Zeke Ruffgar
Loyal Dibbun
Right Paw
"Good always wins. Always! Not just in books but in real life."
Posts: 348
Main: Zeke Ruffgar
Alt 1: Tristan
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Post by Zeke Ruffgar on Dec 20, 2019 18:25:31 GMT -5
**The golden-brown otter placed the final stone and rose, brushing sand and dirt from his paws. Long shadows crept outward from the cairn before him, a spartan burial for the drowned rat. More’n he deserved, Zeke thought. Shivering in the salty breeze of an early winter, he tightened his bandoliers, cinching the mottled green cloak tighter around his brawny shoulders. Pebbles crunched and clacked under his bare footpaws, giving way to smoother sand as he strode across the rocky shore, back to the wreckage.
Few identifiable features remained amidst the twisted wood and tattered sailcloth. The shorn-off mast stood at a grotesque angle, spiked into the damp sand like a massive spear protruding from the earth, marring its otherwise uninterrupted surface. The twisting, swirling patterns of low tide were the only ghostly shadows of the raging sea that had dashed the pirates against the unforgiving cliffs some days ago, before dragging the lighter jetsam back out to the depths. Drying seaweed hung high overhead from the splintered top, casting a Neptunian shroud between the otter’s eyes and the bloody light of the setting sun.
Zeke circled the derelict mess for the dozenth time, futilely scrutinizing the debris for a nameplate or discernible feature, but the ship remained anonymous. With a guttural cry, Zeke struck, his fist thunking into waterlogged wood. Blow after blow rained down on the mute boards until the otter’s paws were raw and his arms stung from the vibration of each impact. He sank, spent, to the wet sand. Two seasons of tracking, for this. One dead rat and a pile of spars. A dead end. Nothing found, nothing learned, not even any indication if this ship was affiliated with the corsairs.
The old dogfox at the Western Settlement had sworn it was, of course. Zeke was no truthsayer, but he had judged the fox as honest, if a bit deep in his cups. He had heard from a friend of an acquaintance that the corsairs had started raiding down the western shores again. Small sorties in cutters and outriggers, descending on coastal villages in the dead of night, pillaging and kidnapping before disappearing into the morning mists. Zeke had followed the gossip west, and seen the atrocities for himself. But once again, he was too late. His chances for revenge had been swept away by the tide, along with the drowned crew of the cutter.
Unless they were still alive. The searat had washed up on the beach, but the rest of the vermin were nowhere to be seen. If they survived the shipwreck, and were making their way on foot, it meant he still had a chance to find them. And to find answers.
The changing tide had long since washed away any tracks, but the otter had been stalking his prey with a combination of intuition and sheer determination for seasons now. Pirate scum’ll be wary o’ movin’ inland. He scanned the horizon, vision fading to grey as the muted tones of dusk fell across the beach. Salamandastron stood a fortnight or more south, before the harsh coast would resolve into more friendly sands. Still, wouldn’t be my first pick if I was vermin on the run. It was a hunch, but a hunch was all he ever had. Zeke drew his twin blades, giving them a cursory inspection that was now more habit than necessity. Satisfied, he re-sheathed his friends, took a final glance at the shipwreck, and set off to the north. Before long, the sound of his footpaws padding through sand and stones would fade away, leaving only the dull whispers of wind and surf in his wake.**
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Post by Celebes on Dec 21, 2019 0:35:20 GMT -5
**Pedals of shade dripped across the sandy shores as if cast by a great dark rose, a product of a far western cloud bank hanging in the dusky sky. Gulls flitted along the tops of purpled waves like specks of cream on a grape tart, and now and then a dolphin could be seen breaking through the placid waters as a workbeast's nail breaks through soft gold leafing. It would have been lovely evening to sit on a sand dune and ascribe additional metaphors to the sunset, but Celebes was feeling frantic.
It was his own stupid fault for being for losing his parcel. Well, it wasn't his parcel, it's never his. It made it all the worse that it was somebeast else's. He should have taken a cloak, a cape, a wrap, something. Anything would have been better than walking down the beach with that glimmering bejeweled breastplate. Even if it was impossible to carry any other way than on himself, beasts must have had seen him coming for leagues. The good ones would have known to stay away from a walking treasure target, and the bad ones had probably been following him the moment he left the holt!
But he had said yes. He had accepted that rather silly charge of carrying a ceremonial piece of armor from the Ascalon Holt to Salamandastron and back again. As if otters really came in that many different shapes and sizes. But no, not so with the Ascalon otters. Each and every new chief had to have the breastplate fitted special for himself. It was shame this new fellow hadn't sent a guard along with his measurements. Or perhaps just came along himself. But why bother with all that fuss when you could pay a plucky young delivery otter to take the season's journey for you? The only real surprise in this whole ordeal was that the blaggards who had finally jumped him waited so long. He had almost made it back!
Celebes kicked the sand, sending grains twinkling into the late light. Well, at least he had his life. He may not have his parcel, his letters, his harpoon, or even his cap, but at least he had his life. Nothing too serious. Just a priceless piece of a holt's age old culture. And his father's fish sticker. Both long gone and half a day up the beach.
There was little guiding his paws at this point, only the vague hope that he could beg for a suitable replacement from the Badger Lord. It wasn't like he was about to track down the brutes who had robbed him clean. He had no weapons, and what's more, he didn't really have the temperament. He would just have to head south towards the fire mountain and pray for the best.
In the midst of the fading late and his own self-pity, Celebes hadn't notice the other traveler coming along beach from the opposite direction. It was only in the midst of recovering from a stumble that he looked up and saw the well-armed otter heading towards him. It was difficult to see if he was an inland or coastal sort. A knot of fear welled in his stomach beneath his torn tunic. If this otter was indeed a sea dog, from the Ascalon holt, the tribe he had just failed, he would be in trouble. He'd need a bit more than an apology with him before he went back there. But with the gap rapidly closing between himself and the stranger, Celebes decided to take the initiative. Better learn who this stranger was before the distance narrowed any further. Forcing a friendly facade, Celebes called out, surpised at how hoarse his own voice sounded.**
Hoi there sea dog! You have enough knife there to off a shark!
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Zeke Ruffgar
Loyal Dibbun
Right Paw
"Good always wins. Always! Not just in books but in real life."
Posts: 348
Main: Zeke Ruffgar
Alt 1: Tristan
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Post by Zeke Ruffgar on Dec 22, 2019 2:03:17 GMT -5
**The day’s final shafts of light flickered across the surface of the ocean, lapping softly at the shore. A brief flash of annoyance danced across the river otter’s face. On a hotter trail, he might have pushed on through the night, hoping to close the gap with his quarry. But this pursuit was driven by instinct at best. More likely, by futility. Traveling through the night was a surefire recipe for needless exhaustion, which would do more harm than good in the long run. The rational aspects of his hunter’s brain won the day. Time ta find some cover, hunker down fer a bit. Zeke slowed his pace and turned inland, when he saw a figure moving in his periphery.
He dropped flat on the sand to minimize his silhouette. For the briefest moment, Zeke wondered if he had already found a confederate of the late searat, but he quickly curbed that over-optimistic line of reasoning. It would be pointless for the marooned crew to idle this close to their broken craft. In the muted light, it was hard to make out who or what was heading down the beach, but they certainly were not trying to avoid detection. In Zeke’s wayfaring experience, that lack of concern for subtlety and safety indicated of one of two things; either the otherbeast could afford it, due to their own strength or that of nearby companions, or they were not thinking clearly.
Regardless, Zeke had to choose confrontation or flight. He knew he was similarly obscured by the dusk, but the open beach offered little cover as the plodding figure drew nearer. Contact would risk conflict or delay, but the creature might be able to provide a useful lead on a very cold trail. That was worth the chance.
As he approached, Zeke realized the meandering figure was a fellow otter, and his pulse began to relax. Friend, not foe. Zeke cleared his throat, attempting to recalibrate his thoughts; casual conversation was a rarity in his line of work. Luckily, his vocal endeavours were preempted as the oncoming otter hailed him.**
Hoi there sea dog! You have enough knife there to off a shark!
**Zeke started at the quaver in his voice. Not scared of another otter, is ‘e?** That’s riverdog to yew, matey. But I s’pose you kin be fergiven, what with the locale an’ all. The name’s Zeke. **Offering his forearm in friendly greeting, he scanned over his new acquaintance. He had the dense face fur of a sea otter, and easily stood half a head above Zeke, although he judged him to be of a similar age. No weapons in sight.** I dunno about sharks, matey, but ye can’t be too careful when yer travelin’ alone. It’s not safe - **His words caught as his gaze fell on the otter’s tunic. The forest green fabric was interrupted by a jagged tear, exposing belly fur beneath. Zeke’s eyes hardened, boring into their cerulean counterparts for an answer.** Yew alright, matey?
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Post by Celebes on Jan 3, 2020 1:50:50 GMT -5
**That’s riverdog to yew, matey. But I s’pose you kin be fergiven, what with the locale an’ all. The name’s Zeke. I dunno about sharks, matey, but ye can’t be too careful when yer travelin’ alone. It’s not safe -**
Celebes nodded distractedly as Zeke went through his pleasantries, his relief of that the other otter was not from the holt he had failed was such that he only barely registered the paw being jabbed towards him. The sea otter took the proffered limb and gave it a hearty shake. Perhaps a bit too hearty. He was left weak from his scuffle, and it seemed as if he was trying to overcompensate by putting all his energy into his grasp.
**Yew alright, matey?**
The question jolted Celebes back to the present. It was not hard to follow Zeke's gaze to his own tattered tunic. But before Celebes was able to even utter a syllable, the gaze of the otter became locked on his own. It was piercing, one that Celebes could have sworn that only his mother was able to pull off. There was little point in giving anything but a straightforward answer.
**Hah, well, guess'n I should have taken your advice about travelin' alone earlier, matey. 'Specilly on these shores. Got surprised by a pack of robbers not far back from here. Was deliverin' a special piece of armor from the Fire Mountain, and I suppose they thought it was shiny enough to give me a good roughing.**
Celebes was surprised at his own cavalierness, but he didn't attempt to chase after his own words once he had said them. He almost blamed himself more than the vermin who robbed him. They were doing what they were born to do, it was he who should have known better.
**You'd better be careful yourself, matey. They're clearly bold enough to pounce on lone otterfolk, as far away from a holt as we are.**
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Zeke Ruffgar
Loyal Dibbun
Right Paw
"Good always wins. Always! Not just in books but in real life."
Posts: 348
Main: Zeke Ruffgar
Alt 1: Tristan
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Post by Zeke Ruffgar on Jan 17, 2020 21:01:49 GMT -5
**The young sea otter grabbed Zeke’s extended paw and shook it with the vigor of a sailor wringing out a line. Rescuing his forepaw from his newfound friend’s grip, Zeke noted the tension in his bearing, and cursed inwardly at his own blunt behavior. His companion was clearly shaken, and Zeke had cut to the core of the issue with all the tact of a mole tunneling into a deeper’n’ever pie.**
Hah, well, guess'n I should have taken your advice about travelin' alone earlier, matey. 'Specilly on these shores. Got surprised by a pack of robbers not far back from here.
**Zeke started at his words. There was certainly a full menagerie of vermin on this coast, but the timing and location were almost too perfect. Could be my missin’ corsair crew… He tried to shake the thought from his head. It never paid to be optimistic. Still, if his hunch was accurate, perhaps the wind was finally turning in his favor.**
- deliverin' a special piece of armor from the Fire Mountain, and I suppose they thought it was shiny enough to give me a good roughing. You'd better be careful yourself, matey. They're clearly bold enough to pounce on lone otterfolk, as far away from a holt as we are.
**Zeke barely registered that the robber’s recent victim had continued speaking. Fury began to build in the hardened river otter’s eyes, his unflinching gaze locked onto his poor compatriot. His voice cut the conversation like a blade.**
What did they look like? Corsairs? Or inland vermin? How many? I need ya ta focus ‘n think!
**Coarse sand shifted under his footpaws. He broke off the interrogation and paced a tight circle, heated questions hanging in the evening breeze. His discomfort grew as he slowly processed the insensitivity of his approach. Running a paw through his headfur, Zeke took a breath and tempered his racing mind. When he re-met the sea otter’s gaze, it was with kinder eyes.**
I’m sorry, matey. Got... carried away. I’m jes’... tryin’ to track down some particular vermin. First we better get yew ta safety, ‘n make shore yer alright. Time for my questions later, there, er... one more, I s’pose. What’s yer name, matey?
**His warrior’s mind began to take a mental stock of the situation. He had a lead on his vermin, but there was also the problem of the messenger. In his haste, he had not checked if his rattled friend was hurt. A quick scan had not revealed any outward injury, so perhaps the otter had been lucky. Still, he was unarmed and alone. Zeke could not condone leading the otter into further harm in his own selfish pursuits. He was right; they were leagues from friendly territory. Night was fast approaching, and they were exposed to more than just the elements on the open beach.**
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Post by Celebes on Jan 23, 2020 0:16:19 GMT -5
Standing on firmer ground, Celebes would have naturally taken a step back as Zeke launched on his withing barrage of questions. As his paws were sunk in sand, he had to content himself instead with leaning back perceptibly to bear the crossfire of malice. The storm soon passed, leaving Celebes without time to wounder if he should just leave this fellow on the beach.
**I’m sorry, matey. Got... carried away. I’m jes’... tryin’ to track down some particular vermin. First we better get yew ta safety, ‘n make shore yer alright. Time for my questions later, there, er... one more, I s’pose. What’s yer name, matey?**
That was more like it, and Celebes said as much.
**Well, that's a bit more my speed, mate. I'm Celebes. Runner for Redwall and the Holts. Well, until this little mess up sinks that venture, doubt anybeast will be trustin' things to my paws now.**
It was the first time that particularly depressing thought had hit Celebes, that of his future trade probably being jepordized. He wouldn't trust a slouch who had lost his messages to deliver anything more. He doubted that robbery would be a sufficient explanation either. Any parcel beast of ill repute could just use the same excuse, as common as a dibbun claiming that a bird had eaten his Abbey school work. He was finished as a messanger.
In part to distract from his own doldrum, and in part to not to be seen sulking, he latched onto what Zeke had said during his fit of passion.
**But what about thse vermin your trackin'? From the looks of your fine gear you haven't been absconded. How'd they wrong you?**
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Zeke Ruffgar
Loyal Dibbun
Right Paw
"Good always wins. Always! Not just in books but in real life."
Posts: 348
Main: Zeke Ruffgar
Alt 1: Tristan
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Post by Zeke Ruffgar on Feb 4, 2020 23:26:00 GMT -5
**Zeke watched his companion recoil before the barrage of questions and grimaced. His solitary hunt had not made him the best conversationalist over the seasons, and he had overdone it. Again. Luckily, Celebes seemed to be giving him the benefit of the doubt after a hasty apology.
Well, that's a bit more my speed, mate. I'm Celebes. Runner for Redwall and the Holts. Well, until this little mess up sinks that venture, doubt anybeast will be trustin' things to my paws now.
Redwall. Seasons of memories surged against the fortifications in his mind, bursting through walls of pain and of singular focus. Laughing dibbuns. A crisp breeze rustling the orchard leaves in harvest time. Splashing in the pond with the Skipper of Otters and his father. At peace. The mists faded from his deep brown eyes as he shook off the grip of sentiment. Those were the memories of a different otter. Zeke had no time for the luxuries of peace.
He looked at the young sea otter before him. Celebes was lost in the throes of his own morose thoughts, but he seemed to be a goodbeast. Honest, and trusting. The admirable qualities of a Redwall Abbeybeast, and the attitude that had nearly lost him his hide today. Celebes was exactly the sort of beast who should be safe to travel, even to these western shores.
But what about these vermin you’re trackin'? From the looks of your fine gear you haven't been absconded. How'd they wrong you?
How indeed, Zeke thought, rubbing the oar-chain scars on his forepaws, left in lieu of the missing fur. How to explain what it took to become a beast like himself. To pursue a single-minded obsession with every moment, tangled in a web of his own design between justice and vengeance. The otter chuckled grimly. Any explanation would make him feel like more of a fool.
Well, Celebes, you’ll hafta forgive me; longest conversation I’ve had in awhile. Ain’t much of a reason I can give, ‘cept I’m huntin’ a corsair crew that washed up downshore a few days back. Timin’ seems ta line up, so I think your vermin might be my vermin. They might not have my gear, but they owe me all the same.
He paused. His developing idea made sense in his warrior’s brain, but that did not mean he had to like it.
The ways I see it, you kin continue to the holts yer headed for. I kin set you up with some gear so you’re not easy pickings on the rest of yer trek, but I can’t spare the time on this trail to come with. I’m not one to lead the unwilling inta danger, but I’m goin’ after that crew. If ye’ wanted to show me the site where they jumped you, I’d be much obliged.
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Post by Celebes on Feb 22, 2020 0:05:39 GMT -5
**Admittedly, Celebes had begun to zone out in the midst of Zeke's dialogue. It had been a long day, he was sore and the idea of just flopping down on the sand was looking increasingly inviting. But when the other otter paused, Celebes realized that he may have missed his turn to speak, and with an embarrassed pit in his stomach he realized he didn't know how he was supposed to respond. Thankfully, Zeke began to speak again.**
The ways I see it, you kin continue to the holts yer headed for. I kin set you up with some gear so you’re not easy pickings on the rest of yer trek, but I can’t spare the time on this trail to come with. I’m not one to lead the unwilling inta danger, but I’m goin’ after that crew. If ye’ wanted to show me the site where they jumped you, I’d be much obliged.
**The sea otter could feel his eyes widen. His acquaintance of three moments was about to go attack those brigands?! Sure the fellow was heavily armed, and he fit the warrior mold quite nicely, but he had been jumped by a whole pawful. Who knew if that even represented their whole gang? Still, Celebes did not wish to appear overly skeptical of his self-appointed date with destiny, especially after Zeke had just kindly offered to part with some of his own gear to outfit him.**
Look, matey. This ain't no mottly band of amateur looters. I may have had a paw in my face the better part of the encounter, but I could see well enough that they were all armed! I'd hate to lead you into the teeth of a scuffle where your odds are slimmer than kelp on a keel!
**Celebes hesitated before continuing. The thought of sending this good, if somewhat morose, river otter into a lopsided fight was naturally unpleasant. But he couldn't help but wonder that, if he had an extra paw, perhaps it wouldn't be a complete slaughter. Celebes was still reeling over the loss of his ever faithful harpoon, not to mention his stolen delivery.**
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Zeke Ruffgar
Loyal Dibbun
Right Paw
"Good always wins. Always! Not just in books but in real life."
Posts: 348
Main: Zeke Ruffgar
Alt 1: Tristan
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Post by Zeke Ruffgar on Mar 22, 2020 16:44:47 GMT -5
Look, matey. This ain't no motley band of amateur looters. I may have had a paw in my face for the better part of the encounter, but I could see well enough that they were all armed! I'd hate to lead you into the teeth of a scuffle where your odds are slimmer than kelp on a keel!**Zeke nodded, calculating. From his vantage, Celebes seemed to be a peaceful beast, but he did not strike him as naive. This was not the bluster of a beast exaggerating to make excuses. But he was not accounting for the skillset Zeke brought to the table. It was good odds that he had faced worse and survived.
There was, however, the added risk of Celebes. Try as he might, Zeke could not drum up a plan to leave his fellow otter without leaving him in danger. And if he intended to come along on the hunt, the otter warrior realized that the situation may call for caution.**Ye might be right, matey. That’s why this trip is gonna call fer a lighter touch, if yer up for it. **The plan was still hazy in his mind, but it was starting to come together. It had been a couple long seasons of tracking, and a part of him had been longing for a straightforward fight. Alas, back to the shadows. The voice of a white fox echoed in his memory as he turned back to his new companion.**First things first, tired beasts make mistakes, and mistakes make trouble. I know I’m beat, and you’ve had a busy day yerself. Ever shelter in sand before? **** **Zeke stepped back to evaluate their work. After a quick bit of digging, the otters had deepened the natural trough between dunes to fit a pair of bodies. Some gathered driftwood and the stakes from his pack served to shore up the dune walls - waking up buried in sand would put a real damper on his tracking plans for the next day. With his oilcloth staked over the top, and buried in a layer of sand, the shelter was concealed from all but the seaward side. Satisfied, Zeke took some rations from his pack and turned back to Celebes.**Right quick bit o’ work there, matey. Yer supplies get lifted along with yer armor? Some trout jerky and oat cake’s about all I have to offer, but no matter. Can’t risk a fire on this open shore, anyhow.
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Post by Celebes on Jun 27, 2020 21:07:27 GMT -5
**There was nothing like a good bit of shared labor to crack the ice between two otherwise strangers. Even as they were finishing up their little lean-to, Celebes found a lot to like about Zeke. The river otter was industrious, resourceful, and upon finishing, quite generous.**
Right quick bit o’ work there, matey. Yer supplies get lifted along with yer armor? Some trout jerky and oat cake’s about all I have to offer, but no matter. Can’t risk a fire on this open shore, anyhow.
**All traits of a fine goodbeast. This was the kind of otter Celebes would feel comfortable watching his back.**
Har! Those brigands skinned me clean! Not like I had much with me, I was looking forward to catching something fresh at the holt. I'd greatly appreciate any crumbs that you had to offer, mate.
**The light was fading fast on the western shore, and Celebes watched the waves as he munched on the proffered rations. Their hypnotic motion had caught his mind in their rhythmic vice many a time, but now his thoughts were otherwise occupied. This little mission that Zeke proposed. This "lighter touch." The sea otter could only assume what that meant. Some kind of stealthy affair. Celebes didn't think himself particularly sneaky. Sure he knew the basics: don't sneeze, watch where you place your paws, and patience, patience, patience. But he hadn't practiced that kinda thing since he was a dibbun! He couldn't let Zeke sneak in there without backup, but neither did he want to be the reason Zeke needed backup in the first place.**
Zekey, this little light affair yer proposing. Yah done anything like it before? I confess I'm not the sneakiest of thieves.
**Well, maybe thief wasn't the right word. Was it thievery if he was taking back what was rightfully his?**
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Zeke Ruffgar
Loyal Dibbun
Right Paw
"Good always wins. Always! Not just in books but in real life."
Posts: 348
Main: Zeke Ruffgar
Alt 1: Tristan
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Post by Zeke Ruffgar on Jul 8, 2020 20:24:20 GMT -5
**It had been the better part of a season since Zeke had shared a meal with another beast, and longer still since he had done it with one he was growing to consider a friend. He suddenly wished he had more appetizing rations to offer; the jerky was oversalted, and he could not remember if the oatcakes had been rained on and hardened, or if that was the last batch. It was too late. Celebes had accepted, and Zeke found himself laying out his supplies between them. The river otter picked at the edge of his half-eaten oatcake, chipping away at a stray oat that had failed to conform to the expected structure. The stubborn grain refused to budge, and the pressure from his foreclaw opened a fault in the stale cake. The hairline fracture was almost imperceptible amidst the interwoven seeds, but Zeke knew from experience: scars run deep. With a gentle tap, it split. He tossed the smaller shard into his mouth with a satisfying crunch.**
Zekey, this little light affair yer proposing. Yah done anything like it before? I confess I'm not the sneakiest of thieves.
**Zeke choked as the playful moniker took him by surprise. He marveled at Celebes’ resiliency. This one’s a true goodbeast. Beaten and robbed, and he’s already worried about stealin’ from the thieves… This plan would have to be watertight, Zeke reckoned. This sea otter did not deserve to have any more harm come his way.**
‘S not thievin’, mate. It’s liberatin’. As for me, I’ve done my share of it, to be sure. Been trackin’ down pirate scum like these for more than a few seasons now.
**Although he liked Celebes, Zeke remained unsure of how much to share. Trust did not come easily to the seasoned warrior, a lesson he had learned at the paws of fate. But Zeke had a second reason to hold back; for the first time in recent memory, the otter found himself seeking another beast’s approval. Share too much, and he might lose the respect of his newfound friend. He grimaced. Letting emotion cloud his reason would only put them both in harm’s way.**
As for sneakin’, you’ll catch on. But we should take this swim one stroke at a time. Find ‘em first, and then figure out our next move.
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Post by Celebes on Jul 10, 2020 22:54:49 GMT -5
As for sneakin’, you’ll catch on. But we should take this swim one stroke at a time. Find ‘em first, and then figure out our next move.
**Ah yes. Priorities. No use fretting about cooking the egg before you figured out how to crack the shell. Celebes stuck a claw in his teeth to fish out a wayward morsel of jerky, his manners having become somewhat raw during his time alone on the road. The sea otter wasn't exactly inexperienced when it came to way finding, he had had to chart many a detour in his career that took him off known and dangerous roads. But that was a skill more suitable to finding a fixed place, not a roving band of robbers. Still, speaking aloud he was sure they could narrow down a manageably small search range.
After a bit of leaning Celebes grabbed a short shift of driftwood, breaking off one end to form a tighter point. He used his new stylus to diagram in the sand as he spoke to his companion.**
Right your are, matey. Gotta find them 'afore we find anything. Now, I only know two things for me'self, but hopefully we can guess well 'nuff for the rest. One, they bopped me not too far from this spot maybe...two hour 'afore sunset? Assuming they ain't travelin' at night that's only a quarters day slow march. Two, they were traveling up the beach when they left me, aways from Salamandastron.
**Celebes paused, letting his scratches in the sand catch up to where he was in his narrative.**
Now, they coulda turned inland, or they could have gone along the coast. Two hours march is two hours march, they coulda covered a good track of land in any direction northish of here. Not looking good for us. What helps us out is the knowin' that they're gunna need vittles wherever they go. There was 'anuff a them that they probably won't be livin' off gulls. They'd need to stay on shore if'n they want to catch 'anuff food. It either that, or they would have had to rob a decent hamlet for provisions inland. Know of any around these parts, Zekey?
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Zeke Ruffgar
Loyal Dibbun
Right Paw
"Good always wins. Always! Not just in books but in real life."
Posts: 348
Main: Zeke Ruffgar
Alt 1: Tristan
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Post by Zeke Ruffgar on Jul 16, 2020 2:18:37 GMT -5
**Zeke saw Celebes shift his grip to break the driftwood a second too late. On firmer ground, the limber warrior could have reacted and stayed his companion’s paw. But as he moved to intercept, his shifting weight dislodged the sand beneath him. As the sand flowed around his footpaws, his momentum seeped downward into the dune. He winced. The sharp crack of snapping wood rang out into the darkness. Seasons of tracking had taught Zeke that even a small sound could travel dangerously far on open shores. Mebbe we’ll have to work a bit on the sneakin’ as well.
Armed with his makeshift stylus, Celebes was busily sketching in the sand. Thin furrows began to coalesce into a coherent map. The sea otter’s wayfaring skill shone through in the clarity and speed of his work. Zeke nodded approvingly as he oriented himself while Celebes laid out the facts.**
Right your are, matey. Gotta find them 'afore we find anything. Now, I only know two things for me'self, but hopefully we can guess well 'nuff for the rest. One, they bopped me not too far from this spot maybe...two hour 'afore sunset? Assuming they ain't travelin' at night that's only a quarters day slow march. Two, they were traveling up the beach when they left me, aways from Salamandastron.
**If the vermin were heading away from the mountain, they were either lucky or they knew the coast. Either way, it was a shame. The hares would have been useful allies. While he had little time for the bureaucratic proceedings of the Salamandastron regiments, chance encounters had led Zeke to throw his lot in with the Long Patrol a few times over the seasons, and he and the hares had developed a mutual respect. These days, he could count on long patrol runners to pass along intel on pirate movements when he was in the region.
Zeke was confident they could make up a quarter day’s lead in no time. By Celebes’ estimation, the robbers were not in a particular hurry. The otters had a twofold advantage. The vermin did not know they were being pursued, and the otters were traveling light, Zeke by design and Celebes by circumstance. Less fortunate was the terrain; any trace of pawprints would be long gone by morning, the grains of sand rearranged a thousand times over by the sea breeze. Zeke tapped the side of his snout with a foreclaw in contemplation. If they were lucky, the vermin would be careless and leave food scraps or embers behind. Otherwise, direction might prove hard to pinpoint.**
Now, they coulda turned inland, or they could have gone along the coast. Two hours march is two hours march, they coulda covered a good track of land in any direction northish of here. Not looking good for us. What helps us out is the knowin' that they're gunna need vittles wherever they go. There was 'anuff a them that they probably won't be livin' off gulls. They'd need to stay on shore if'n they want to catch 'anuff food. It either that, or they would have had to rob a decent hamlet for provisions inland. Know of any around these parts, Zekey?
**Zeke’s tapping foreclaws nearly slid off the end of his snout as the diminutive caught him off guard. Have t’ do summat about that name. Shaking his head, Zeke refocused on the task at paw. He was intimately familiar with the southern portions of the western shores. However, his past forays to the north had largely been limited to the coastline.**
Not my expertise, unfortunately. There’s a nasty batch o’ toads to the east. If they’d knowed that they’ll have steered clear. North’ard there’s not much on the coast. Barren until you get into the badlands, then the rocks might encourage ‘em to turn east. But if yore robbers are my corsairs, stands ta reason they’ll stick to the sea.
**The remaining rations sat untouched, forgotten amidst their planning. Zeke rewrapped them in their oiled cloth and stowed them in his pack. They had the beginnings of a plan. In his experience, that was enough to start.**
As I sees it, we kin head back to the site of yore incident at first light. It’s a long shot, but if we’re lucky we’ll turn up some indication of where they headed. Otherwise, we head north. Sightlines are good enough that we should see ‘em a ways off. If we don’t, we deal with it and turn inland. They’ve got a head start, but we kin travel faster. But ‘nless you’ve got more thoughts, our first step should be shuteye.
**Zeke tossed his pack into the makeshift shelter. Unbuckling his bandoliers, he carefully unslung his twin blades. The absence of their weight left a strange emptiness on his scarred back, as if he were a bird and his steel wings had just been clipped. He ran a paw fondly over their matching hilts. Soon.**
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Post by Celebes on Jul 30, 2020 23:30:20 GMT -5
**With little else to add to Zeke's wise words, and more than a little tired, Celebes joined Zeke beneath the lean-to. Stretching out on the sand, Celebes felt his joints relax, sinking into the sand with a satisfied sigh as he listened to his spine crackle. Sticking his paws under his head, the sea otter took a moment to gaze at the rapidly apperating stars through a small rupture in the oilcloth. It had been a long day. He had woken up expecting more of the same, spent it thinking his life was over, and ended it in the company of a new friend. And to think: tomorrow would be even longer.
***
The next morning arrived with a flash of starlight entering the exact same hole he had gazed through the previous night, only this was just one star burning big and hot. Taking a moment to stretch his stiff limbs, Celebes exited the shelter. Amidst the bundle of bags that had layed with them in the shelter Celebes had not spotted Zeke, but the other otter could have been wrapped up in a blanket. The sea otter was too bleary eyed to check too hard.
The dawn light felt warm on his back, and lit the grey sea ahead of him with a touch of pinkish hue. The early birds were out, catching not worms but fish in the choppy waters. Celebes decided to join them. A dip in the sea was as good a wake up as a slap in the face.
Celebes labored for a pawful of minutes seeking to replicate the catch of the seagulls, for it seemed every dive gave on of them a fish. Preparing a fresh breakfast would be one small way to thank his warrior acquaintance, especially since he had shared his own food the night before. Eventually, his efforts were rewarded, and the otter was able to land two small fish the natural way.
The otter barely had time to dry off before he spotted Zeke, to whom he raised the sunfish by its tail with a toothy grin.**
Breakfast, matey! I hope you don't mind eating it like a savage, I don't think it would be prudent nor timely to cook 'em.
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Zeke Ruffgar
Loyal Dibbun
Right Paw
"Good always wins. Always! Not just in books but in real life."
Posts: 348
Main: Zeke Ruffgar
Alt 1: Tristan
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Post by Zeke Ruffgar on Aug 2, 2020 17:05:43 GMT -5
**Waves lapped against the packed sand at the water’s edge. In the darkness, the all-encompassing murmur of the tide was at once both quiet and deafening. Zeke drifted in and out of restless sleep, one eye open and one paw delicately cradling the hilt of his twin swords. Seasons of experience had taught the weathered warrior to expect a fight at a moment’s notice. But some battles could not be fought with blades.**
**Another wave swished into the shore, and transformed. A massive breaker crashed against the pitch-sealed cedar. The impact shook the entire hull, breaking the rowers’ tempo. The drummer redoubled his efforts, beating out a tattoo in a frantic attempt to unify their strokes. Another wave struck. The starboard oar-holes spat icy seawater into the galley, dousing the otter and his benchmate. Zeke blinked away the stinging salt, and saw that Virgil’s eyes were closed again. Let him rest. Water swirling around their footpaws and the single piton that served as anchor for both of their chains. A few tender voices cried out in fear and were cut short by barked orders and whip cracks. Zeke’s paws tightened around the ash handle of the oar, worn smooth by seasons of salt and rage. He rowed, pulling double weight so that the searats would have no cause to notice Virgil’s lapse.
Keeping his head bowed, he stole another glance at the mouse. He was so thin. Zeke shifted his right footpaw to overlap Virgil’s left. The mouse did not move. He has to keep his paws on the oar, or they’ll see. He tried to whisper to his friend, but the storm crescendoed to drown him out. Zeke tried again, louder and louder, but the pulsing drum and crashing waves grew to impossible volumes. He shouted Virgil’s name. His friend sat beside him and did not answer. Tears mixed with brine on his cheeks.
The next wave crashed over his head. Tossed about like a piece of driftwood, he gasped for air and swallowed seawater. The ship was gone. Wave after wave pummeled his body. The otter swam with all his might, calling on the muscles developed over seasons of endless rowing, but to no avail. He sank. The cold metal on his wrists, his last tether to his friend, pulled him beneath the surface. Darkness enveloped him as saltwater rushed into his body.
The quiet gurgle of low tide transported Zeke to the shore. Every step was punctuated by the clatter of chainlinks as the second set of manacles trailed behind him. Empty. He wobbled on unstable legs and fell face first in the sand.
Zeke lifted his head and spat out a few intruding grains that clung to his tongue. Firelight danced in his dark eyes as a looming shadow fell over him. Zeke pushed himself up onto all fours with a gentle clink, mirrored by the ring of steel as the approaching beast drew his twin blades. He knew who it was without turning to look. He fought this spectre every night. This time, I won’t move. This time, he gets me. I’ll get to be with Virgil again. All I have to do is nothing.
Zeke rolled over and swung the chains, hard.** **Zeke gasped for air as he snapped awake. He scrambled for his swords, then stopped as consciousness caught up to him. Celebes lay next to him in the sand, fast asleep. His chest rose and fell in time with each metered breath. Without the slightest thought of social decorum, Zeke watched the sea otter sleep for a moment. His gaze stopped on the white scruffy fur of the sea otter’s face, and marveled at him. He looked so calm. So peaceful. Zeke shook his head and slipped out of the makeshift shelter. Let him sleep a while longer.
The sun had not yet risen, but nature agreed that it was not far off. The rising tide had begun to eat away at the shoreline. Sea birds were awake and circling, diving for their breakfast. Zeke strode up the beach as he buckled on his worn bandoliers. Within earshot but out of sight, he began his morning ritual. He drew his swords. The polished blades took on a cold, flat texture in the pre-dawn half-light. Separated in his paws, they remained part of the same weapon with him at their center. Zeke began to work through his forms, moving slowly at first and picking up speed as he danced through each position. The blades began to sing around him. He sliced through the crisp air and stopped their momentum in an instant. Satisfied, Zeke reunited the matched pair and sheathed them on his back.
He swam out into the sea to rinse the sweat from his body, then returned to the camp with the sharp twinge of salt lingering in his nostrils. As he walked up the beach, Celebes hailed him, holding a fish aloft.**
Breakfast, matey! I hope you don't mind eating it like a savage, I don't think it would be prudent nor timely to cook 'em.
**Zeke smiled, accepting the proffered sunfish.**
Beats stale oats, matey. Yer right, better get movin’ if we plan to catch up to yore thieves.
**Their disguised shelter had served its purpose. Zeke unpinned the oilcloth from the stakes and shook off the sand. He rolled it neatly around the stakes and returned the kit to the bottom of his pack. Slinging it over his shoulder, he turned to face Celebes.**
If yer ready, lead the way.
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