Fenrir
Beggar
A Warrior's Honor is His Life[Mo0:0]
Posts: 37
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Omens
Sept 3, 2010 16:11:08 GMT -5
Post by Fenrir on Sept 3, 2010 16:11:08 GMT -5
Thestios gazed over the wide world. He had been seeing things, premonitions of darkness to come. Dreams of fire and blood and screams. So the Badger Lord watched. Awaiting the arrival of the messenger he had dreamed of. A lone Beast racing across the fields at the base of his mountain. From outside his chambers the Long Patrol Hares could hear the steady rasp click [/i]rasp[/i] of the whet stone sharpening the mighty badgers blade.
Ragnar, a sword like no other. two handed with blades going out from each other like a staff, with a bladed hand guard on each of the two sections. The weapon could be used as one or as two separate blades. The Hares prepared even as their lord did. They could sense the tension like a powerful storm front.
"Captain Waterlily, Do ye really think there's a battle on the way wot?" A young Hare, still green, spoke in a quiet whisper.
"Aye little Longleg, When the battles come the Badger lord will know. Now lets finish up these jolly swords and get us some grub wot?" The older Hare captain sighed she'd hoped to never see another battle in her life, but when duty called the Long Patrol moved out. She was far to old to travel with them now, but, she would give them a right proper send of she would!
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Tarpin
Beggar
Picture by Gloria Pike's UNTITLED! Comic [1:Currently connected [0:currently connected to boring RL]
Posts: 28
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Omens
Sept 5, 2010 14:26:39 GMT -5
Post by Tarpin on Sept 5, 2010 14:26:39 GMT -5
Sitting on the cool stone floor of Barracks chamber 3-B, Patrick Benton was sorting through gear that was spread out in front of him. He and the other members of second platoon were packing up for a patrol. They were to travel east and sweep north and south, and report any meetings they had. Patrick had gotten the order yesterday.
Many of the hares of second platoon were tenderpaws; but there was a strong number of veteran sergeants at the core of the platoon. Patrick thanked the fates for that. Like all lieutenants commanding their first platoon, he had very little experience compared to his the Non-commissioned officers below him. It was a balance. He was at the head providing leadership and guidance, but without his subordinate officers providing individual guidance for the privates and supporting him in his executive role, he would be lost.
Patrick looked up from the paraphernalia in front of him. All around the barrack room, hares were sorting, cleaning, and folding their own gear. He had to grin to himself. Almost every one of them was packing too much weight. He looked down at his bag. He was included. He pulled a wood plate out of his mess kit. The bowl was sufficient. He didn’t need both. He also put his divers knife on the “Not packing” pile. All the little things added up. He lifted his head and addressed the room in general.”Pack light. Only things you know you’ll need. Not things you might need. You can improvise out there. The less you take the happier you will be!”
Looking back down, he began following his own advice. Weapons: His saber was crucial. He would carry it on his back. It was slow to draw that way, but it would be infinitely easier to move around. His sling... The capabilities it provided were well worth the weight. He pushed the sling pouch to his left. His shovel was next. It was a tool as well as a weapon. Its edges were sharp so that it cut earth like butter. The same applied to flesh and bone. It had its own leather sheath and belt strap. He pushed it left as well. His woods knife… No he didn’t need it. Traveling without a knife would be odd, but he felt his shovel could perform every task his knife could. Except medical purposes… He slowly pushed the knife to the left as well. He knew he wasn’t taking his diver’s knife.
Mess kit: a small bowl, a wood mug, a canteen, a spoon, fork, and a small knife. His tinderbox was also in his mess kit bag. Patrick was determined to cut out gear. He pushed his bowl to his right into the reject pile. His mug could serve to hold everything. He pushed the mug and his spoon and knife to the left. The fork met the reject pile.
Next was his cloak. It was long and volumous. It was also heavy. But its capabilities made it invaluable in the field. He rolled it into as small a bundle as possible and pushed it to his left. Next he had a large rag of brown material. It was light and could be used for many improvised purposes. He kept it. And that… was all.
Patrick was very proud of himself. His gear actually weighed less than his weapons. That was always good. He would probably miss his plate, bowl, fork, history book, pillow, apple corer, reading spectacles, fluffy slippers, scut warmer, tea filter, tea kettle, tea cup, tea stirrer, tea saucer, and tea spoon. But comforts must be sacrificed while on patrol… Patrick bit his lip… and pushed the tea kettle to his left. He justified it by telling himself it was good for moral. Well, it was!
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Fenrir
Beggar
A Warrior's Honor is His Life[Mo0:0]
Posts: 37
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Omens
Sept 6, 2010 9:44:47 GMT -5
Post by Fenrir on Sept 6, 2010 9:44:47 GMT -5
"If you need a spoon to eat it you can drink it straight from your mug." Thestios stood behind the Young Lt. "The tea kettle can be used not just for tea but also to boil down herbs for poultices. It can be used for stew as well. Always good for Moral." The big Badger smiled at his youngest officer. "You should bring a short spear as well. it can be used for a walking stick and will be quicker to use then your saber."
"What brings you down this way M'lord? Thought you was right watching wot?" Captain waterlily looked at the badger lord he seemed thinner then he had a few days before.
"Your Mother seems to think I've kept my self cooped up to long. So I've taken a jaunt through the mountain. I'll be stopping in the mess for a bite to eat as well." The Lord of Salamandastron, cowed by an aged Hare mother.
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Omens
Sept 6, 2010 11:59:34 GMT -5
Post by iolana on Sept 6, 2010 11:59:34 GMT -5
Patrol Cadet Sandfoot Seascut-Livesey III bent his head over his half-filled pack, narrowing his green eyes to dark, conifer slits while he regarded his throwing knives. This would be his first away assignment since joining the patrol and he wasn't sure if he should bring them as well as his rapier. Sneaking a glance over to the commanding officer of the expedition, Lieutenant Benton, Sandy tried to gauge what would impress him - or not invoke his wrath. Irritating the officers is never a good idea. He looked back to his knives and decided to bring them anyway. Just in case. He had just begun to adjust the straps to ensure his pack would fit comfortably across his back when the lieutenant addressed the room.
”Pack light. Only things you know you’ll need. Not things you might need. You can improvise out there. The less you take the happier you will be!”
Sandy looked up again, hiding a frown. Improvise? But he didn't have the experience for that yet! There were plenty of veterans coming along for the ride, of course, but they wouldn't appreciate having to babysit a young trainee officer along with all the other greens. That, and Sandy was rarely one to ask for help. He liked to work things out on his own, thank you very much. And now he was overthinking the whole issue again. He'd be the last soldier ready if he kept this up. He was just in the middle of angsting over whether or not he should bring the sheaths for his blades as well when Thestios, the badger lord of Salamandastron himself, spoke, his voice booming around the small cavern the platoon was packing in. Sandfoot jumped, then looked down again guiltily. He hadn't noticed his ruler coming in.
"What brings you down this way M'lord?" "Your Mother seems to think I've kept my self cooped up to long... I'll be stopping in the mess for a bite to eat as well."
Sandy stood, shouldering his pack, and marched up to his commanders. He saluted shortly before offering, "M'lord, Lieutenant, sahs! Packing completed, correct and ready t'go when the rest of the platoon is, sah!" He wouldn't normally go out of his way to talk to creatures, but he wanted to impress his superiors, and being one of the first soldiers done packing seemed like a good enough reason to get their attention.
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Fenrir
Beggar
A Warrior's Honor is His Life[Mo0:0]
Posts: 37
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Omens
Sept 6, 2010 14:27:59 GMT -5
Post by Fenrir on Sept 6, 2010 14:27:59 GMT -5
"Throwing Knives? A nice touch Cadet. The question is can you get them in the heat of battle? If you're ambushed by vermin can you reach them before you're cut down? Best to have them hidden but close at hand." The Badger lord gave his paw a flick and produced a short dagger from within his long sleeved tunic, revealing a clever sleeve sheath. "I am never without a blade of sorts,and I fully expect my Long Patrol to be just as ready!" His voice was loud, yet jovial. And a number of the senior Patrol Hares shouted in agreement, producing blades and knuckle dusters from various hidden pockets.
"Eulaiaaaaaaaaa!" His voice echoed piercingly in the barracks. The Ages old battle cry, filled with hope, belied and anxiety deep in the Badgers heart. Trouble was brewing and he knew it would come soon.
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Tarpin
Beggar
Picture by Gloria Pike's UNTITLED! Comic [1:Currently connected [0:currently connected to boring RL]
Posts: 28
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Omens
Sept 7, 2010 22:33:31 GMT -5
Post by Tarpin on Sept 7, 2010 22:33:31 GMT -5
There was a tense silence for a few seconds even after the echoes of Lord Thestios’s cry had faded from the rock cavern. Bug eyes, deafened ears, and bewildered stares were ubiquitous. Patrick had his lip sucked in. He would probably never figure out these badger types. Sneaking up on you quiet as a cat one minute and then imitating a bally foghorn the next.
“Ahem… Right. Seascut. Good work, now help the platoon out and help a buddy pack.” Then just raising his voice a touch, he addressed the platoon. “When you’re all packed, leave your packs here and take care of whatever business you need to take care of. That will be a good time to say goodbyes and what not… Actually We’ll be going through the village on our way out, so collect any letters from your buddies and we’ll drop by the post station. We will NOT, however stop anywhere else. We’ve already had three days of furlough, and no matter what she says, your doe CAN live without you for a day. Tracking? Alright. Back here, in formation, in one hour... Carry on.”
Benton turned back to Captain Waterlily and Lord Thestios. “Sir, Ma'am, I’m glad second platoon was chosen for this patrol. It’ll give us a chance to stretch our legs a bit. But, sir, would you care to shed some light on this assignment. The written orders made it sound like we were looking for something or someone specific, but didn’t specifically say what. And usually, short range patrols like this are done by solo runners, so I’m very curious as to what we’re after.”
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Fenrir
Beggar
A Warrior's Honor is His Life[Mo0:0]
Posts: 37
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Omens
Sept 8, 2010 8:29:48 GMT -5
Post by Fenrir on Sept 8, 2010 8:29:48 GMT -5
"Watch for any beast that seems in a hurry, particularly anyone that looks scared. I would tell you more if I knew." the badgers eyes were vacant a moment recalling the recurring dream he'd had the last three nights. "Keep your eyes open. And make sure you've got some Hare watching your Scut. Remember that old codger Barleyear, Turned his back a moment and some crafty rat Snipped his pride and joy right off\." The story of Barleyear Hare was one from Thestios' Cubhood. His father had told him that tale again and again. The more the Badger tho9ught about it the more he wanted to tell a Tale of oone of his good friends.
"Waterlily would you mind gathering the Young Bucks and Does for me. In the Great Mess. I've a tale to tell, I think they may find it rather enthralling."
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