Who knew accusations on cannibalism could lead to a kitchen raid and then drunken glory?
RW Abbey: Entry
You stand on a grassy sward between two cottages. To the south you see a small, calm pond. To the north lies an open space where the Abbey has its feasts in the warmer seasons. To the east is the Great Hall, a massive structure that rises far above the abbey walls and is completed with large towers that pierce upwards into the sky. The main building is completed with a large, iron banded door that would allow one into the Great Hall.
The blanket of snow is replaced with the vibrant greens of spring. Newly sprung flowers and young shoots dot the path. They hold a promise of color and enhancement. The earth is relatively dry here, and the soil rich for growing, but muddy patches of dirt still can be found. Many Abbeybeasts can be seen tending to the gardens, though some are content with just being out and about, enjoying the warmth of the virgin sun and the pleasent weather. Dirt pawprints are tracked upon the clearing's surface, serving as witness to the fact that the majority of Abbeybeasts are caught up in the "spring fever." Most will will do just about anything, or make any excuse to be outside, eager to watch as spring colors emerge in scraggly clumps.
Exits/Entrances:
[G]reat [H]all [C]limb to the [R]amparts [A]bbey [P]ond
[Ga]te [H]ouse [Leave] through the gates [Open] Ground
[C]hampion's [C]ottage
Safana shrugs, "Don't know yet, I can't help in the fight now, the injury prevents that, may go back ta Ferravale, well when can anyways."
Lorcan gives a hollow smile to the feline. "I hear it's the best place t' be right now. At least, outta the other options."
Ragg is walking from the pond, seemingly heading to Great Hall. He hopes that when he reaches the steps the two beasts stationed there will ignore him and if not that just give him a nod for he is still rather uncomfortable being around the abbey.
Safana waves "Hello Ragg" She calls out, she then just simply waits on a response.
Lorcan turns away from the feline to rest his eyes on the weasel newcomer... Ragg, apparently. He gives him a simple nod in greeting, and nothing else.
Ragg smiles a twitch of a smile to both beasts, but as Safana says his name his 'twitch' smile grows to a full grin "Hello Safana. Glad to see you back on your paws." He returns the hares nod than seems to remeber somthing that was told to him and he actually looks afraid of Lorcan.
Safana nods "Sort of back on my paws, still unable to fight cause of my arm" Its bandaged wrist to elbow and in a sling.
Lorcan finds it obvious that the cat and the weasel know one another... she did mention that she was an ex-pirate, didn't she? Reagardless, he doesn't find anything strange about it until he starts to notice the weasel giving him a look that can best be described as "strange" by all accounts. "... eh, is something wrong with your friend?" he whispers, nudging Safena gently in the ribs.
Ragg keeps a wary eye on Lorcan as he gives Safana a half grin "There's more to life than fighting, right?" He catches Lorcan's movement to whisper to Safana and takes a small step back, getting a bit suspicious.
Safana shrugs, she looks at the hare "Umm...he is fine, I think"
Lorcan continues to watch the weasel, feeling more than a little spooked to be the subject of such scrutiny. "Ragg, ain't it?" he calls out, standing up and crossing over to him, offering his paw for a shake like he'd done so with the feline not so long ago... but this time, mostly doing it to observe the otherbeast's reaction.
As far as Ragg knows hares are cannibals or some other such of heathenism. Ragg nods, a bit fearfuly as Lorcan says this Inquiry of his name, but as the hare comes toward him than offers the paw Ragg seems almost ready to bolt. But he manages to hold his ground and stutter out "Y-yes. T-that's me." His sense of logic kicks in and he realizes that this beast has of yet to actually try and harm him so he allows himself to grab the hares paw in a limp shake than quickly pull away.
Safana watches Ragg and shakes her head as she stays on the stairs quietly and adjusts her sling.
Lorcan leaves his paw hanging in mid-air, right where the weasel let go of it as if it were a poisonous reptile. Not normal behavior at all... and was he stuttering, too? Wait - perhaps he thought that he was part of the Long Patrol! He might be more scared of their reputation than he actually was of him. "Eh... I'm Lorcan. I'm just ere' visitin', not part of the Long Patrol or anythin'. How do you an' this fine feline know eachother?"
Ragg keeps his paws by his side as he lets his mind chew over the information just given to him by the hare. He once met another hare at a tavern and this hare did not seem to bad, pluse like Lorcan, he was not from the Long Patrol. He nods to himself coming to the conclusion that it must be the long portal hares that are the cannibals. He now seems less afraid as he answers the hare "Good to meet you." He then adds as a side note to himself "I think." He manages to keep his nervous stutter down as he shrugs "Me and Safana met..." He thinks a moment than frowns and looks over at the cat "Say. Where DID we meet?"
Safana looks at Ragg, "Once in Ferravale, then here another time, you know my brother alot better than I, I believe"
Lorcan nods slowly, finally starting to get sick of not knowing what is going unsaid. With the depressing state of affairs being what they are, the last thing he needs on his mind is that he brought on a panic attack to a complete stranger! "Kay then. Say, wot's the matter Ragg? Is my fur turnin' white, are you allergic to hares... anythin' wrong?"
Ragg shrugs at Safana "I would not say that. You ARE his sister." His ears perk to Lorcan and he quickly shakes his head "No! I mean-" He takes a deep breath and blurts out "Are you a cannibal?" Now that he has said it he feels just a little silly.
Safana rasies an eyebrow and just, well she is now curious of Ragg to ask somethng like that so she waits on reactions.
Lorcan physically recoils at the accusation, his pink eyes growing wide with outright disbelief. "Wait, WOT!? No, I ain't a bloody cannibal! I don' even like the taste of meat!" Backing away from the very disillusioned weasel, the hare looks upon him with absolute bafflement. "Where... where, if anywhere, did you hear somethin' like that?"
The relief on Ragg's face after hearing this statement is almost pitying. He grins widely at Lorcan and offers an apologetic paw "Sorry. I am afraid that I have misjudged you." He will not be surprised if Lorcan does not take the paw considering his actions have been more than weird. "I just heard it here and there." He looks reluctant to expose his sources of information.
Safana shakes her head, she glaces around as its quiet outside,most inside it would seem.
Lorcan narrows his eyes slightly. Here and there? With a rumor that hares are cannibals going around when they're already at lower numbers than he's heard of in years, it concerns him that someone - maube the fox, Vladmir - is actively trying to eradicate his kind altogether. He knows he's probably just being paranoid... but the situation so far has warranted it. "I'd really like to know who said such a thing. Scuse' me if I don' take is as some jokin' matter!"
Ragg shakes his head and answers the hare "They beast did not directly say that hares where cannibals, just that they are a bit unpredictable and...oh never mind." He says this weakly as if losing a fight.
Lorcan feels ready to just slump over the nearest step and wallow in misery, but regardless, forces himself to continue his faux interrogation. He's taller than the weasel at least... and if he truly believes what he's been told, then perhaps he has an advantage in that regard. "You wanna see an unpredictable hare, eh?" he says in a low voice, the corners of his mouth starting to twitch into a rather gruesome smile. "Then keep bein' vague! if this is some joke or summat..." he trailed off, leaving the threat itself to the weasel's fertile imagination.
Ragg eyes widen. This hare may not be a flesh eating beast, but he speaks danger to the weasel. Ragg seems to shrivle and he looks quite horrified "No! I have no desire what so ever to see an unpredictable hare!" He backs up a step, again preparing to sprint if the need should arise "Someone, I don't know their name just said that otters and hares where dangerous...and I am beginning to see their point." He says this last part in a quiet, but still audible voice.
Lorcan is pleased at first to see that his tactic is working, but then, all it manages to net him is the knowledge that this information came from an anonymous source. "That's all you can tell me?" he cries in dismay, wondering if maybe reaching for his sword might prompt better answers...
Scioto walks into the entry, he has had some needed sleep. He wears his chainmail vest, he just doesnt have his sword on as its in the gatehouse, unless he gets permission he keeps it there, he looks over to where the two are and walks over closer.
Ragg winces as the hare speaks and than reachs for a sword "Wait! The beast was a rat! Yes, thats it!" He gives a very weak smile that does not go any where near his eyes. He glances over and sees Scioto with a yelp of joy. He sprints to the cat and doges behind him, peeking over the cats shoulder at the hare.
Lorcan holds off, recognizing the cat chieftain from yesterday and quickly composing himself. Giving him a quick nod of respect. "Scioto, sah..." But a rat, huh? That narrows it down slightly. Still... he's not done with the weasel yet. He needs more details!
Scioto rasies an eyebrow and then looks at the hare, "What is going on?"A touch of grumpyness in his voice, "Why does it appear you are attcking Ragg? Why do you have a sword in here, now I am Not the champion,nor am I the abbot but I know the rules of the abbey and thats no weapons, only Flicktail can carry a weapon in here, he is the abbey Champion,...well?" He looks at the guards, one guard is unsure of listening to the cat but he has a point as he motions the hare to place the blade in the gatehouse, "It will be returned when you leave the abbey" The guard assures him, Scioto studys the hare waiting as Ragg stays behind him.
Ragg grins a little as Scioto says all this and is *this close* to saying something cheeky, but he recovers himself and stays silent.
Lorcan raises his eyebrow, a little confused by this. "Wha? But there was a cat here with a cutlass just a few-" glancing around, he can no longer see any sign of his former companion. In all likelihood she must've ascended the stairs... she did admit that it was her brother who knew more about Ragg, the weasel, than she. "I ain't aware of that before... I'll hand it over," he says, but with obvious reluctance, and understandably so. The sword looks to be the only valuable thing on his person. "but chief, that weasel knows somethin' about hurtful rumours. An he ain't bein' too cooperative about it."
Scioto answers, "I do not think someone else would have a blade in here"
Ragg looks indignant as the hare says this "There is not rumor!...or....maybe there is." Now that he has Scioto between himself and the hare he is feeling a bit bolder.
Scioto glares slightly, "Ragg, come with me" He walks to the great hall.
Lorcan reaches out and grabs hold of the weasel's arm. "Ain't gotta let you off that easy..." Trotting away towards the entrance, the hare gives the weasel a companionable smile lacking in warmth. "How bout' you make sure I turn in my weapon in person, eh?"
Ragg seems just about to follow Scioto when he is grabbed. He wants to shrink away, but he can't. He smiles back at the hare in a rather helpless way "Sounds fun." He says weakly.
RW Abbey: Main Gate
You are at the main entrance into Redwall Abbey. The gates are a a massive, double-doored wooden affair, reinforced with iron, and with a heavy latch and crossbar on the inside to prevent would-be invaders. While the gates almost always stand open, you get the impression that the builder of this portal designed it to be nigh impregnable. The entrance arch is amazingly thick, denoting the strength and thickness of the ancient walls themselves, which, despite the upheavals of the past, and numerous cracks present in the rose colored stone, still stand tall and strong. Uncountable pawprints can be seen in the dirt, leading both in and out of the Abbey. Along the bottom of the wall on either side of the arch, weeds and wildflowers can be seen in plenty.
You can hear the bustle of activity within the Abbey, and the occasional murmur of a passing conversation. The sun is high overhead, and shadows are small. All is bright.--------------------------------------------------------------------Are you a newcomer to Redwall? Type +skills apply rwchat to keep track of what's happening.--------------------------------------------------------------------
Exits: [Enter] the abbey, [R]ight Along [W]all, [L]eft Along [W]all, [R]oad
Lorcan twists the weasel's arm and walks at a brisk pace towards the gatehouse, unsheathing his fine-looking sabre and... very hesistantly, handing it over to one of the dozing guards. Likely the same one who forgot to check him for it earlier! "Now then..." he breathes, turning around and fixing his milky stare back on the weasel. "You were tellin' be about the rat who says I'm an unpredictable cannibal?"
Ragg winces as his arm is twisted "Go easy. Thats the only right arm I've got." He looks at the guard, willing him the wake up and help him along, but said guard is completely oblivious to the weasels plea. He meets Lorcan's eyes and gives a nervous laugh "She- I mean, the rat did not say that YOU were the cannibal, in fact she did not say that hares were cannibals at all, she simply said they were unpredictable" He repeats the same information with a little shrug.
Lorcan suddenly falls completely silent, a cold dread starting to creep into his bones. A female rat... it couldn't be the same one, could it? "Wot... wait now, this rat then..." he says quietly, one of his floppy ears giving a slight twitch. "She weren't blind, were she? With a stick an' one heck of a swing?"
Ragg nods franticly, sensing he might have a life line "Yes! She had a stick and was as blind as a-"He can seem to remember the rest of the saying, but he shrugs it off. He gets a little curious "Why?" That is all he can get himself to question, fearing what the hare would do if he added more questions.
Lorcan loosened his grip, his heart sinking. So much for a conspiracy... he knew who started the rumor, and heck, he might even have caused it! He was certainly proving the old crone right, acting irrational over such little provocation. "... eh, I think... I'm goin' about this wrong." Giving the weasel a despairing look, he sighs, releasing his grip altogether. "Folks have been sayin' lately about the Long Patrol bein' picked off, an' how there ain't many hares left in these parts. With all this buisiness about Ferravale an' Redwall bein' attacked by some mad fox too? It ain't exactly been good for me." Folding his arms, the hare leaned back against the wall and sighed deeply. When he next glanced over to the weasel - his look was nothing if not apologetic. "Look, I'm sorry... kay? I'll make up for it or summat. Are you ungry'?"
As Lorcan lets go of his arm Ragg seems to grow happier. Despite his obvious happiness he frowns "So you know the rat?" He seems to almost feel sorry for the hare, but then he remembers those eyes and most of his pity leaves, replaced by caution. "That's understandable. At least not ALL hares where killed." He looks almost surprised as Lorcan says sorry "Welllll....." He sees potential in this offer to make things up, but he lets it rest for now "As a matter of fact, I am a bit hungry. What do you have in mind?"
Lorcan shrugs, not really having thought the offer through, considering that he had been in a somewhat frenzied state up until this point. "I dunno. Just don' wanna leave you with such a sorry impression... and I'm sorry I grabbed on you." Feeling hungry himself, food having popped into his head as the most natural way to make amends, he places a hand on his chin and puts some thought into it. "I know there's food to be had ere'... but there's also the pub, or market. Though I can understan' if you don' wanna be goin' someplace with me alone right now." Yes, fine maker of friends he was! First threaten them with implied cannibalism, and then take them out to dinner. Heck... he doubted even the old crone could make up something so crazy if she put all her thinking into it.
Ragg shrugs "First impressions are not always the most truthful...at least that's what I am hoping." He shrugs again and says ruefully "it's fine. It was only my writing arm." He grins and says good naturedly "You have a point. Going somewhere alone with you right now might not be the best idea. They do have a kitchen here and the food is not half bad. Sound good?"
Lorcan cringes. "Writin' arm? Eh c'mon, let's get you some food!" The hare says with obvious guilt. Were his ears not naturally floppy, they would be tucked down against his head regardless. "Let's go find t' kitchen... all this suspectin' folks is giving me an appetite."
Ragg smiles faintly, starting to trust the hare ever so slightly "I agree. They say that you hares tend to eat....A LOT. Is it true?" on the subject of eating he looks just a little nervous.
Lorcan scoffs a little, starting to lighten up a little at the prospect of food... and generously deciding to take the weasel's comment as a joke. "Eh! That's such a stereotype..." And he'd prove it. He ate a solid seven meals a day, just the same as any other beast!
RW Abbey: Kitchen
This is a long, narrow room with five large fireplaces set into one wall, and two equally large wood burning iron stoves set against the opposite wall. Several small, rectangular tables rest in here, but there are no chairs available. The rest of the wallspace is taken up by an entire array of shelves, cupboards, and counters which hold the day-to-day cooking supplies and utensils. The kitchen is clean and well maintained, and more recent efforts have been made toward organization of the cooking ware.
On the wall just right of the door leading into Great Hall is a neatly penned chart, which lists the names of beasts assigned to cooking duty as well as the dates and times they are scheduled. A small note above the chart urges residents to volunteer for at least a slot or two a week.
The light from the windows is bright and cheerful. This room is rather warm due to the ovens being used, and at times can get quite uncomfortable.
Exits/Entrances:
[G]reat [H]all [Wine] Cellar [Sc]ullery
[C]avern [H]ole [Pan]try [La]rder
[Ki]tchen [P]ath
Lorcan moved stealthily, his nose peeking around every corner before taking a turn, finally arriving in the abbey kitchen and rubbing his mitts together eagerly. At last, mealtime! No wait... amends, he was here to make amends.
Ragg walks in after the hare, wisely keeping Lorcan in front of him. He glances around the kitchen and much to his joy it is empty of beasts for the moment....well not ALL beasts. There is a kitchen helper washing some pots and pans, but hopefully she will not notice the two beasts that just entered.
Lorcan considers how to go about this... it doesn't seem to be one of the abbey's scheduled mealtimes yet, but he's hungry now, not to mention the fact that he owes food to Ragg as an apology for all the unwarranted arm-twisting, and possibly almost threatening him with a sword too. "Kay, I can pay... so we take what we want, then give em' money?" he asks the weasel, looking for justification in his daring scheme.
Ragg shakes his head and even goes as far as to pat Lorcan on the shoulder, in the moment forgetting his fear of the hare. "Of course not. The food here is free. The plan is to take what we want and /not/ pay." He probably should have phrased that better considering he just told that to a hungry, full grown hare.
Lorcan raises his eyebrows, a strange glint coming over his eyes. "... free, you say? Eh! Well then!" Turning so fast that his ears spun around in the air, the hare was off in a bound, casting the door to the pantry wide and staring down the food contained within with the same kind of look a hungry hawk gives a mouse. "Lessee ere'! Try this, an' a bit of- YES! That! Plenty of that!" he babbles to himself as he starts grabbing whatever catches his eye and placing it into the crook of his arm. Pies, pasties, cakes and tarts all vanished from their neat little places - and one was even unfortunate enough to be stuffed into the hare's mouth, once he had run out of hands to hold his food with.
Ragg looks quite surprised as the hare does this than dismay clouds his face "Wait! I am not sure if we can eat it /all/." He walks over and stands by the hare "Than again, I am sure they can make more." He says reasonable. He quickly grabs one of the few remaining pies before the hare can get it "Leave some for me!" He says indignantly. It would seem that the two have forgotten about the kitchen helper who looks on in horror. She than gets a determined look on her face and slips out of the kitchen to get reinforcements.
Lorcan decides that he's done for now... no wait! One more pie, there. And a tub of clotted cream. Finally finished with his preparations, he turns to the weasel and nods his head firmly. Unable to speak, but still able to indicate that... oh dear. As he turns around, he catches sight of the helper's look of abject horror before she leaves. He knows that look... he's seen it many times before. "Mrnnghf!" He declared, which, roughly translated, was; "RUN FOR IT MATE!" His eyes glancing around for places to hide, the hare finally sprints off, his fast pace slowed down only by the enormous weight of all the food he is carrying.
Ragg is confused by Lorcan's actions at first than he remembers the kitchen help and it all clicks. He grabs one more tart before sprinting after the hare, wondering what in the world he meant by 'mrnnghf'
RW Abbey: Wine Cellar
The wine cellar is cool, dry, and dimly lit. It is a very large, low room, extending far back into the Abbey's under works. The vast space is almost entirely taken up by rack upon rack of wine bottles and ale casks, barrels of all sizes, and shelves of flagons and stoneware flasks. For all the space available, the drink here only fills a small part of it, and most of the barrels still stand empty. There have been obvious work efforts occurring here recently, and the cellar is, if emptier than seasons past, cleaner than it has been in a long while. The further corners of the cellar are hidden in shadow, and consist of many nooks and crannies.
Exits: [Up] to the Kitchens
Lorcan scurries down into the depths of the cellar, his body sweaying carefully, somehow managing to keep his stack of food balanced... is it though luck? No, experience. Definitely. Taking a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure the weasel was following, he ducked behind the wine casket furthest from the door and sagged down onto his haunches. Spreading out his cache of treats so graciously 'liberated' from their imprisonment in the pantry in front of him, reaching up, and finally removing the leek and cheese pasty from his jaws after taking a substantial bite.
Ragg is indeed following, his pie and tart looking like nothing to the hares pile of food. He quickly follows the hare behind the wine casket and sits down all the way, leting his back rest comfortably on the casket. He looks over at the hares pile of food with a slightly jealous glint in his eye "Soooo....are you going to share any of that?" He looks down at his own tart and takes a bite, grinning as he does so.
Lorcan nods his head, unable to give an immediate response due to his jaws being busy munching the aforementioned pasty. Within thirty seconds maximum, he finishes it, nodding in approval. "Of course! I brought multiples that we can trade opinion..." he says with a devious smirk, brushing a flake of pastry away from his whiskers. "Nice savoury stuff, it seems. Reckon next I'll let you know how this rhubarb tart goes down with... clotted cream." Pulling a spoon out of his pocket, the hare is quick to dollop cream in such quantities that a shovel would have been better suited to his needs. Passing the spoon along to the weasel afterwards as he dispenses with the cutlery, simply tearing away a hunk of tart and gnawing away at it resolutely.
Ragg frowns, suspicious of the hare intentions toward the food. "Are you sure the doubles aren't just for you? By the way you are eating I would not be surprised if that was the case!" He is mostly joking, but there is just a hint of realism in his voice. He looks in awe at the amount of cream the hare just put on his food "How..." is all he can manage and he dazedly takes the spoon. He puts one spoon full on the rest of his tart and takes a bite, eyeing Lorcan's pile of food to make sure it does not all disappear before he can commandeer some.
With the sounds of the kitchen staff frantically searching for them still peacefully far off in the distance, the hare keeping his own massive set of ears primed and at the ready, he at last started to feel genuinely relaxed for the first time since coming to the abbey. Of course, the blackberry pancakes with strawberry syrup he reached for next only helped with that! But perhaps most of all, it was nice to have company with whom the only subject of conversation was war and death. "Smmmmch...! Eh, so then Ragg, wot brings you to t' abbey?" he asked between bites, chewing through food at the rate of a man starved beyond reason.
Ragg takes another bite of his tart and shrugs, speaking through a mouthful of crumbs "I am here because my teacher, Nightbreath, is here. I am an apprentice seer, you know." He says this last part with obvious pride. "And what brings /you/ here?" He asks as he swallows the bit of tart he was chewing and takes another bite, not matching Lorcan's by a long shot.
A seer... Nightbreath? Faintly the hare thinks he can remember seeing someone matching that description before he left the hall the other night, pointed out to him by the wry old ratwife whose cane had a buisiness end - he thought he could still feel the bruise on his arm, even now. "Tha's pretty impressive. Dunno nothin' 'bout how you go on learnin' seer things though, myself." A slice of nutbread smeared with jam later... and the hare found his brow lifting, pondering what to say in response. "Me? I'm here... well, since this is where I ended up. Ain't got any real reason t' be 'ere..." Except perhaps for one. A lingering paranoia, perhaps... but one he wanted to see through.
Ragg grins and gulps down the rest of his tart "I know, right?" He lets his voice become a bit airy "You see, becoming a seer is very interesting and you have to have a certain....resolution." He continues to talk in this voice until he moves his legs around and his pie falls on the floor. He looks completely crest fallen. "Did you see that? It's not fair!" He looks at the pie for a moment than sighs and lets his paw snake over to Lorcans pile of food. He quickly grabs a pie to replace the one that fell on the floor and grins as he starts to use his paw as a fork. "Where you ended up? So you has no intentions to be here, you just came?" He looks curiously at the Hare.
Frowns a little, filling the temporary void of silence in the conversation with, perhaps predictably, a small quiche... or three. It wasn't exactly easy for him to put into words how he'd come to end up here. Or rather, the events that had started to lead up to his life of wandering. "Well, I ain't got no home now. So I jus' goes places lookin' fer one, I guess." An optimistic description. But then, he couldn't exactly just sit down and outright tell a stranger that he was running away, or what it was that he was trying to escape. "I used to be in t' Long Patrol, y'see. Lower ranks like... back when I weren't not long from bein' jus' a dibbun. The platoon are all dead though. Ain't nobeast left but me, an' I can't go back to Salamandastron."
Ragg looks on a silent awe as the quiches disappear down the hares throat. Then he shakes himself "Are you planning to stay here?" He takes a bite- or more so a pawful of pie. He looks surprised "A whole platoon dead? How did that happen? And why can't you go back to Salamandastron?" He asks this barrage of questions oh so innocently and he will not by any means take offense if they are not answered.
There was something missing from all this conversation... plenty of food, but no drink. Something would have to be done about that! Standing up and leaving his pile of smuggled food... for the moment, the hare returned after a quick visit to one of the wooden racks that lined the halls with a bottle of elderflower cordial... or was it mead? He wasn't paying any particular attention to the label. Sitting back down again, he popped open the cork.... what had they been talking about? Oh yes, his platoon. "It ain't summat I particularly wanna talk 'bout." he says with a guilty twinge, taking a long, drawn out swig right from the bottle itself. "But wha's been happenin' 'ere, with the Long Patrol bein' ambushed and the fox? It ain't far apart from that."
Ragg watches the hare get the drink and looks curious "Oooo, what kind of liquid is /that/?" He takes another pawful of pie and nods "If you don't want to talk about you dont have to by any means." He is still wary of making this hare mad and he can understand about not wanting to talk about your past. As Lorcan indulges in telling him a little bit about what happened and his listens eagerly "Ah, I see." He seems to be thinking than changes the subject accidently "So, what are your thoughts on the fox?" He takes a pawful of pie.
Scioto has walked past grumpy beasts, well he is grumpy too and enters the wine celler looking around, "Hello?"
Lorcan opens his mouth to speak, and then to cram more food into it in short order, when he hears a voice call out, his arm moving quickly over to Ragg's mouth and clamping over it. "Shhh! Did you hear tha' Ragg lad?" His eyes wide, he remains stowed away behind the furthest wine casket from the door alongside the weasel, gesturing down to their still nowhere near finished stockpile of food. "We gotta' be gettin' outta' 'ere!" Mouths the hare in silence, passing Ragg the bottle, since he seems to have such an interest in it anyway, and then moving to save as much of the food as he possibly can before they are caught.
Scioto walks the rest of the way down and folds his arms over his chest, "What is this? This no time for trying to eat as much as one can, abbey needs to save food not eat tons of it..already had a bad afternoon, had to help take Flicktail to infirm"
Ragg was also about to speak as well, but he winces instead as the hare puts his paw over mouth. He than understands and stays quite, grabing a bit of the food as well and he also takes the bottle. He sniffs the liquid and seems curious and he is about to take a sip when Scioto comes upon them. He quickly shoves the bottle behind his back and smiles sheepishly "Hello Scioto" He offers weakly.
Scioto growls low, "Ragg we have a chat, and you hare...look both of ya outta here, need to find a leader" he walks off and they should follow
Lorcan freezes in mid-stride, recognizing all too well the voice of the wildcat chief from earlier. Turning around, on the spur of the moment, he grabs one of the leftover tarts and reaches up - attempting to silence the chief's reprimands by slotting the delectable pastry neatly into his mouth! "Pardon me sah, but as you can see good and plainly, me an' Ragg was jus' settlin' our misunderstandin' from earlier!" he explains, making reference of course to the face that he very nearly pulled a sword on the weasel, after said fellow accused him of being a cannibal, among other things. "Feel welcome t' join. I jus' wanted make amends with him like, since he's actually a rather top-notch chap."
Ragg laughs outright as Lorcan tries to put the tart in Scioto's mouth than he gulps as Scioto growls and starts to stand as Scioto walks off, but seeing that he does not REALLY have to go, he stays back and glances at Lorcan. He smiles as Lorcan calls him a 'top-notch chap' "Thanks" He murmurs than he sinks back to a sitting position. "Are you going to follow?" He pulls the bottle from behind his back and takes that sip he was wanting. He grimaces and quickly sets the bottle aside since it is indeed mead.
As the chief walked away out of the cellars, the hare folded his arms and stuck out his tongue at him from behind. Honestly... he would have thought the wildcat would be proud that he and Ragg were settling their differences in such a civilized manner. True, the wildcat did have a lot on his mind, and reason to be serious... but being overzealous had been the hare's own undoing, earlier that same day. "Nah. He won't pay us second notice, I reckon." Folding his arms, the hare started to turn when over at the far end of the cellar, from the same doorway the wildcat walked out from, there was what sounded like a battle cry and a clanging of cutlery... a sound that send fear down to the very pit of the hare's overstuffed stomach! "Ey, that sod! He's gone and told em' where we are, Ragg! Run fer it!!" ... but to where, exactly? "Or eh, failin' that... hide??"
Ragg can't help but wonder at the hares daringness. Sticking out his tongue? The admiration shines in Ragg's eyes. He relaxes and puts his paws behind his head "You're probably right." He yawns and seems to be settling down for a nap, than as the 'war cry and cutlery' is heard his eyes get wide. He jumps up and nods at the hares words "Good point, but where to hide?" he eyes the door warily as the angry cooks get closer and closer.
Lorcan glances around the cellar, his eyes wide and staring. None of the barrels are large enough to shield them from view for long, and the nooks and crannies in the corner /might/ have hid them... had they not just been feasting, with bellies full! That does it then. Sprinting over to one of the barrels of october ale, which is not supposed to be disturbed until the aforementioned month, he beckons Ragg over and prizes open one of the caskets, and then another. The barrels are large enough to hide in, just about! Provided that they leave the corkholes open for air, and don't mind... well, drinking away a little of the surplus to prevent themselves from drowning. "Eh to that chief! Next time I see him, there ought' be hell to pay...!" He vows, before fitting his whole body inside one of the barrels, up to his neck in ale, and gesturing for Ragg to do the same. "Hurry up! Secure yourself!" Are his last words before he seals the top down on himself, poking out the cork with his finger for an airhole, and lying in wait, marinating in lukewarm ale
Ragg follows the hare, but frowns at his plan. "But-"There is no time to argue as the cooks can be heard coming down the stairs. Ragg quickly slips into the barrel and shivers at the ale. He seals the lid on and tries his best no to drink the ale, even though it is up to his shoulders. He too pokes out the cork and mutters somthing to himself as he tries his best to not even look at the ale.
The cooks come in, and search they do... very intensively, some of them finding traces of food and the open bottle left behind by the unlikely pair and crying out in dismay, other of them muttering words of revenge under their breath and using colourful language. Swinging their ladles like cudgels as the knock on several of the barrels, checking to see if any are hollow. Miraculously, neither the hare nor the weasel are discovered... but a very long time seems to pass before the cellar is finally empty again. Leaving in longer, just to be sure... after nearly two hours, the top off the hare's barrel is opened from the inside, Lorcan stepping out with fur as white as the snow aside from a few grubby patches of grey, all that remains of the charcoal normally used to dye his fur. "... eeeeeeh, *hic* Raggy?" he calls out, tentatively.
Ragg waits the two hours, than does the same as the hare: Pushes off the top of his barrel and comes staggering out. Liquor has not touched his lips in two seasons, but the record was broken today as nearly one third of the barrel is gone, all into Ragg's stomach. He looks over at Lorcan with a silly grin on his face "R-rright heeerrreee Lercon!" He suriously mispronounces Lorcan's name.
The look on the hare's face lights up visibly as his 'friend' emerges from his own barrel. Bounding over, Lorcan wraps his arms around the weasel and gives him a jolly great hug, his stance swaying unsteadily, as if he could topple over at just about any moment. Despite this, he bursts out laughing! Not even really knowing why... "Heeeeehhh! We gave em' the *hic* slippp we did, Raggggg!"
Ragg hugs his drunken pal right back, still grinning like insane ninny. "That wee did buddy." He sways to the left and nearly falls over and probably the only thing keeping him up is the hare. He grins "Weeee! Soooo, w-what d we d no?" In translation he just said do without the o and now without the w.
Staggering towards the door, the weasel clinging to him helping the hare keep his balance just as he is the one keeping Ragg from falling over, he reaches the door and peers outside. It seems darker in the hall, which means it must be night... bad luck for him! With his camoflage gone, his white fur sticks out like moonlight! "Ahhhh bugger!" Crouching down on his haunches, hegrabs hold of Ragg's arms and holds him with a solemn expression, looking deeply into his eyes. "Lisshen *hic* Raggy lad... I ain't never gonna make itsh. Go on widdout *hic* me..." Hanging his head low in his drunken state, the hare's ears flop forlornly. "Save yersshelf! *hic* I ain't worth bringin'..." Slumping against the side of the barrel, Lorcan starts laughing uncontrollably, and without signs of restraint.
Ragg looks right back into Lorcan's eyes, tears forming in his yellow orbs "Bu...I can't leave you." He places a shaking paw on Lorcans shoulder "either w' go together o-or....No at all." He slumps down beside the hare and has completely different emotions as he starts to weep.
Lorcan continues laughing, hysterically! But very slowly, his laughter starts to fade, giving way to quiet sobbing as tears start to streak down his face, mixing in with his grubby fur. "Raggy... I don' *hic* deserve..." he begins, his voice trailing off as his chest begins to heave, his breathing highly irregular. "I left em' Raggy... my patrol. I'm a *hic* worthless, no-good deserter, who got no right be seen inna company o' *hic* fine chaps like yershelf." Overwhelmed by the weight of his pent-up guilt, the hare reaches forward and tries weakly to push the weasel's paw away from him. "Leave me Raggy, itsh wot I deserve. Haresh are supposed t' be brave an' courageous an' all that... right? But I acted like a coward... an' I'll never be anythin' else."
When he sees Lorcan is crying as well, Ragg starts to cry harder. He shakes his head while trying (and failing) to wipe away his tears. "N-no. Yo'r not worthless! An belive me, I'm no fine." He does not budge as the hare tries to push him away. "I's not leave! I don't care if yo'r courageous or no, I NO leave!" He stays in his spot, looking as determined as ever.
Lorcan blinks at the weasel, dumbfounded. "You'd... shtay... with... me?" he asks, speaking very slowly and emphasising each word, before reaching forward and giving the weasel a hard shove. "Gerrof! You're bloody mad!" Standing up quickly... a little /too/ quickly, the hare stumbles over and trips, falling onto the floor with a hard *thud*! "Ouch!" Rolling over quickly, he starts flailing his footpaw in the weasel's general direction. "Leave me behind, madbeast! An' you're a jolly good sort, who deserves better company, don' tell me no two ways different!"
Ragg looks quite hurt as he is shoved away "Bu I don't wan't to leave you! Yo'r my friend...right?" He steps forward to help the hare, but the flailing footpaws stop him. Suddenly somthing comes into Ragg's eyes "No. I's not a good sort. I could have saved her, bu she left to quick." He shakes his head bitterly and steps forward again, offering a paw to help Lorcan up "I's NOT leaving, and yo's can't make me." He keeps his shaking paw out, not moving from the spot.
Lorcan nods his head adamantly, looking affronted. "Of coursh I'm you're friend! I just ain't got the right t' be..." Pushing both arms against the floor, trying to stand up by himself, he utterly fails. In the end reaching for the weasel's helping paw and rising up to his feet, throwing an arm around Ragg's shoulders and limping forwards, towards the steps. "Thish... thish ain't over! Talk... later bout' thish!" he says through his drunken slurr as he tries to lead the way towards the exit, already dreaming of a soft bed to lie in... heck, at this point, even a patch of any old grass would do!
Ragg shakes his head, but keeps his paw out "Of coursey you got the right." He supports the hare, throwing his own arm around Lorcan's shoulder. He limps along with his friend, the two of them looking like war veterans. "Yo's right. Thit's no over." He too starts to dream of a bed as they limp closer and closer to the steps. To add affect he starts to hum a marching song in a very drunk way.
