The Challenge Part 1
Rorgan the otter and Dylan the lizard cross paths once again. This story takes place ambiguously in the time stream, some time after the Millitia dungeon story arch.
Every land has sights to see. Glorious mountain ranges, majestic lakes, free flowing rivers, forests of splendid trees. Nature is not short on majestic wonders to see and every culture has an export unique to their lands. Some places have food, others have arts, Mossflower has Taverns. Taverns seem to be as plentiful as marauding war lords in Mossflower. You could not turn down one road with out eventually reaching one. Most are usually seedy, backwater, and dens for thieves and bandits. The Marauding Marten is no such exception. A small wooden shack with dirt floors and a hole in the roof to accomidate the smoke from the fire pit in the center. The seats were short logs placed around barrel and box's used for tables. Although made for persons wishing to avoid the law it more often than not catered to woodlanders, at least those who didn't believe in peace and happiness like their Redwall brethren.
The tavern was known to quite a few, but among these few was a certain otter who decided he was going to use a different location for his drinking time. Said otter had just entered the tavern, walking towards the bar and attracting interested looks from more than a few of the patrons there. His first order is of an ale, a common beverage for most beasts his age, and he waits patiently for the bartender to come back with it.
A stout looking mouse slides his drink down the bar before sliding another drink down to the occupant at the end. Even with his head on the table, his hat covering his face, the lizard catches it with out looking. This red scaled lizard has obviously seen better days. His scales have lost their shine, his eyes have lost their luster, his clothes are dirty and soiled, his button up shirt and vest are left open to expose the small but growing beer belly on his waist line. Dylan for all intents and purposes looks like a wreck. Even the feather plum on his hat is bent at an odd angle.
Rorgan takes several seconds after catching his drink before he figures out who the lizard at the end of the bar is, and he looks quite surprised when the sudden realization hits him. Taking a swig of his ale, he stands with his drink and walks over to take the seat next to Dylan. "Looks like yore havin' fun, eh?" He remarks quietly.
The lizard leans back from the counter, drink in claw and smiles at the otter, "Arn't we all?" He begins to chuckle. It is not until the reptile is halfway through his drink that he realizes who he is talking too. Dylan chokes and is forced to spit out his drink towards the counter. He falls out of his chair where he begins to cough violently.
Rorgan's eyes widen and he sets his drink back down, getting out of his chair and kneeling down to help the lizard up. "Dylan, are you alright?!" He asks worriedly, trying to get him back on his feet.
The lizard for his part pulls himself up with out the otters help. A few heads turn in the tavern, obviously uncomfortable with a vermin lizard here in the first place let alone a woodlander paying him any concern but they are too busy with their own drinks to care about them. "Except for my pride I seem to be doing well." All in all Dylan looks rather happy to see the otter, "Please tell me I am not imagining this. Raziel and Hershel told me you were dead!"
Rorgan chuckles and shakes his head, patting his own chest. "Well I'm here an' breathin', so I ain't dead yet!" He gives a cheeky grin, as though he were a dibbun that had just played a masterful practical joke on somebeast.
Poking the otter in the shoulder just to make sure he is indeed real Dylan continues, "So what happened to ya? Last I saw you everything was going to plan and suddenly I have to rescue Fargo and Torran from the Militia gates, then Hersel appears out of the ground in front of me carrying Derrin and...then Raziel shows up out of the blue it..." The lizard ists back down on his log like seat shaking his head, "What the heck happened? They told me you fell into an underground river."
Rorgan nods in agreement, sitting back in his chair and taking a big drink of his ale. "Aye, an' I ended up bein' washed into a lizard cave. One that contained a lot o' lizards that thought eatin' such a 'mighty warrior' like me would give them more strength. Luckily, one o' them helped me out."
Raising an eyebrow to this the lizard laughs, "Fine, you don't want to tell me what really happened, I'm perfectly ok with that. I can imagine its not a fond memory." The lizard sighs as he turns away, "I wish I could forget some things myself..."
Rorgan frowns, looking concerned. "Well wot happened? You seemed kind o' down about somethin'."
The lizard chuckles, "Is that so?" He shakes his head, "I guess retirement does that to a beast." He raises his claw and another drink slides his way. Dylan begins to drink heavily from his mug, spilling some ale onto his chin.
Rorgan tilts his head only slightly, asking, "Wot d'ye mean retirement?" A bit softer, beginning to feel a sinking feeling in his chest. He doesn't want to be right, but seasons of experience taught him that few things could do this to somebeast like Dylan.
Dylan's grint is anything but pleasant. "Forced retirement actually." The lizard says as he wipes off his chin with his shirt sleeve. "Luco apparently also survived his tumble into the river. I don't know how but he found my camp after that and well..." he shrugs, turning back to his drink. There isn't really a need to explain what happened next.
Rorgan looks away, his fears being confirmed. "I'm sorry Dylan..." He says quietly. He knew how much Dylan loved being a bandit leader, and surely this must've caused more damage than he was letting on. "How long ago?" He asks.
Dylan finishes off his drink in the next gulp. "Don't be. They were cut throats, thieves, and bandits. All in all they probibly got what they deserved." He says coldly, staring off into space. The door opens and a brown furred squirrel enters the tavern. A leather curras covers his chest over a dark green tunic and trousers. The squirrel looks a bit well fed but still retains a sleek appearance. He strides up to the other side of Rorgan and orders a drink "It happened shortly after we rescued Raz, after that me and the survivors divided what we had and went our separate ways," Dylan finishes.
"Heh, you would be surprised how quickly money goes when you dont have an income..." The lizard belches and pats at his gut, "But don't you worry, I have enough left over to drink and eat myself into oblivion." The squirrel next to Rorgan gets a chuckle at this, "I think he has already reached oblivion by the looks of it."
Rorgan looks over at the squirrel, raising an eyebrow. "Well if you had been through wot he's been through, you would have too." Of course, he doesn't want to be agressive about the way he says it or anything only because he isn't in the mood for a fight.
The squirrel leans back and chuckles, taking a sip of tea of all things. "Oh yes, we can all let ourselves go to pot simply because bad things happen to us. Poor thing." The lizard turns his head and narrows his eyes at newcomer. He doesn't reply letting the squirrel get in another jab at his ego, "No wonder these woodlanders let a vermin lizard in here. Look at you, wasting what little gold you have left on your stomach, slowly grown soft and fat and useless. But that's ok cause you are in a bad mood and everyone just has to accept it." He says with a chuckle.
Rorgan narrows his eyes. A little bit of a jab at a beast is one thing to him, but making fun of another's misfortune is another thing entirely. "Listen here furball, you'd better shut yer trap an' mind yer own business afore I give you somethin' t' chuckle about." Sure, the otter isn't in the mood for a fight, but that only made his look and tone that much more menacing.
The squirrel begins to chuckle at this, "Ah yes, Rorgan the warrior. I've heard plenty of tales about you as well...kind of hard to sort out the tall tales from facts though." He sips from his tea, "Somehow I suspected you would be taller...of course I expected Dylan to be skinnier so, I guess it balances out." The lizard stands from the counter, paw resting dangerously on his hilt. The squirrel chuckles at this, "Come now Dylan, you are many things but I don't ever recall you murdering a beast in cold blood simply because they hurt your feelings." Dylan responds by beginning to growl at the annoying creature.
Rorgan raises an eyebrow, curious at how the squirrel knew of him. "Wait..." He says slowly, cutting off ideas of combat for the moment. "Wot tails?" He asks. He had no idea anybeast would know about him, much less being able to identify him just by looking at him.
The squirrel passes the two beasts a grin. It is a devious thing, splitting his face in half and showing off his slightly yellowed teeth. Setting down his tea the squirrel leans away from the counter and nods slightly, "Call me Piper." The squirrel doesn't seem to answer Rorgan's question. "And I might have a job opening for Dylan the bandit...not the pot bellied oaf I see here with wine stains on his shirt." Dylan growls again at the squirrel, "Listen you furry little fiend...I..." then closes his mouth again. For once words seem to escape him and so the squirrel crosses his arms and rolls his eyes, "I must say I am truly disspointed in you Dylan. He /is/ Dylan Locke, right?" He asks Rorgan.
Rorgan looks taken aback for several moments before nodding. "Aye, that's Dylan. Why?" By this point, he is extremely confused, and there's not a whole lot he can think of to do or say at the moment.
"You are playing with fire squirrel. I am Dylan Locke. Bandit, skirmisher, and master thief and..." Dylan is interrupted again by Piper before he can finish the threat he was going to say, "Then /prove/ it." The squirrel leaps easily onto the counter and declares so all beasts can here, "Listen up you good for nothing louts. I know have of you are bandits, the other half are thieves, thugs, murders, and blades for hire. There is a cart coming down the main road for Collinson in two days time. There will be a chest on that cart, a simple wooden box...filled with more gold and jewels than you have ever seen. One of them will be a large ornate golden head peice. Bring that too me in the Black Gull tavern with out killing the passengers or guards and you will be rewarded richly." The squirrel hops down off the counter with all eyes staring at him. A conversation begins to fill the air as the theives and bandits talk among themselves.
Rorgan looks away from the squirrel to Dylan, a mischievous twinkle suddenly alight in his eye. "Wot d'ye say Dylan? Sounds like old times eh?" He chuckles. "Not quite so much /old/, but still." The thought of adventure always gave him a thrill, as though he could never get enough of it.
Dylan grinds his teeth together. "Yeah, just like old times, what are you playing at squirrel?" Piper chuckles and crosses his arms, "Consider this an on the job interview. If you want to know more, grab that head piece." The pudgy squirrel turns and takes his leave through the exit.
The lizard begins to call out to the otter but stops and watches him leave. Several other beasts begin to do the same, thieves, bandits, mercenaries, or just plain old criminals take to the door, many leaving their drinks unpaid for. Dylan doesn't trust the squirrel at all, nor does he have any desire to be led into some kind of elaborate trap. Then looking down the lizard clutches at his stomach and his face contorts into a frown. Trapped in a wave of self pity and despair the lizard has gone from one tavern to the next squandering what was left of his money on food and drink. His belly has grown thicker while his body has grown softer. His clothes are a mess, and he is a far cry away from the bandit he once was. Shaking his head the red scaled lizard tosses a few coins onto the counter and after adjusting his hat takes his leave with the other villains. One thing for certain, it's time for a change...
Once again I have decided to place the descriptions of players in the log. I do this on occasion because often I find myself wondering what characters look like. Since we play them so much we already know what the other player's alt's look like and just use first names or species to describe our movements. But new players or others later on who scroll through the logs have no idea what they look like.
Also its a good way to keep track of what they look like as they progress. Not all descriptions are set in stone and they change based on icly events or as the player gets better as writing descriptions.
Rorgan is an otter that stands at around 6 feet tall with piercing ice blue eyes. His black fur is mostly covered save his arms, head, and tail by a suit of black leather armor. A brown leather sheath can be seen on his back containing his bow. In his belt are three different scabbards that contain his three daggers.Two of them are identical in design; their hilts a dull silver from use. have a red gem set in the centers and their scabbards appear to be replicas of each other. The third, however, has a different look about it. Its hilt is wrapped in a leather grip and seems to be rather new, though still gently used. Its sheath looks almost brand new, like it had just been made yesterday. The most notable feature about him, however, is the bright red tattoo that marks his right arm. It is an intricate circular design that resembles a very large arm band that somebeast had cut complex designs into.
It is hard to tell exactly what sort of lizard Locke is. Even Locke might not know. He is a tad smaller than most beasts, wiry but with a slight bulge to his stomach, and has a very brightly colored appearance. The majority of his scales range in color from bright to dark red. His underbelly, stretching from his chin to the tip of his tail are gold colored as are the insides of his clawed feet and hands. The lizard has several small spikes along the ridge of his face and above his eyes.
The lizard wears a long sleeved yellow frilled shirt with brass cuff links which is tucked into his dark brown hard cloth trousers. His chest is also adorned with a sleeveless light brown custom made vest. Made from the leather of a beast best left to the imagination it has chain mail sewn into it to protect the lizards belly and chest.
Made from the same leather as the vest, a thick sword belt wraps around the lizards waist and attaches itself to the hilt of a double bladed sword. The paw guard is made from copper and the long leather bound hilt hides a make shift hold out dagger.
The lizard's feet are covered by thick leather boots with a flared out top, his head is covered by a wide brimmed felt hat with an eagle feather sticking out the side.
