|
|
Post by Tirael on Oct 15, 2009 18:13:29 GMT -6
Redwall has stood for a lot since its construction. To all its inhabitants, it has been a place of safety, of peace, of the happiness a simple life can bring. To vermin, it has been a treasure trove, a fabulous palace inhabited by witless rubes. To hares, and many other travelers, it's been the home to the best kitchen in Mossflower.
To the young otter being pulled through the gates, it was a death sentence.
Having given up on escaping a short time after he was captured, his urge to resist returned when the Fort began looming up in front of him. Despite the way the rope halter chafed his neck as he dug his footpaws into the ground, and despite the jabs and kicks he took when he tried to pull away, Tirael knew that if he went through into the grounds, he was a goner. He was a healer, and a defenseless and stupid one at that, as Sleet would have no doubt been telling him right now. What chance was he supposed to have against an army of vermin, especially one that was feeling particularly bitter about woodlanders at the present?
Apparently, he was going to find out, as with a sharp tug on the ropes, he was brought stumbling in. The gates closed hard behind him, the sound having a vague finality to it. Looking around fearfully, Tirael thought of his family and tried to emulate their strength. Except they're real relatives, he thought sadly. Their courage runs in their blood. What do I have to show for blood I don't have? But even if he was just adopted, a young one taken in out of pity, he'd been raised by Skipper. That had to count for something, right? Adoptive or not, they were family...
A sharp tug on the halter brought Tirael out of his thoughts, and as he was lead toward the main building, he thought of all the lovely things he could do to the stoat triumphantly displaying his "prize" if his paws weren't tied behind him. His favorite involved- well, we don't need to think about it.
"Where's Cap'n Lorna?" Kirig (the stoat) asked a guard. Pulling his captive in closer, he smirked and said, "I got 'er a present."
|
|
|
|
Post by Treble Tiderunner on Oct 20, 2009 8:51:50 GMT -6
”What is this?” Lorna said with a twist of distaste to her mouth as she stalked up behind Kirig. Ignoring the stoat’s jump, she sauntered around Tirael, examining him and dismissing him as a threat or even something remotely important. “An otter. You brought me an otter.” She moved to prod Tirael with the butt end of her ordinary cat-o-nine.
“Kirig, WHAT exactly am I supposed to do with such a useless looking creature?” She asked sharply, turning to face the stoat. “Why didn’t you bring back MORE of them, if you’re gonna bring back captives?”
|
|
|
|
Post by Tirael on Oct 20, 2009 17:42:29 GMT -6
"What is this?"
The reaction came as a surprise to both Tirael and Kirig, though the stoat took it harder. Somehow, he'd painted a mental image of exultant gratitude, of how everybody would be praising him for his accomplishment. Irritation hadn't been part of his list.
Tirael glanced uncertainly at Lorna as she circled him. He could feel himself getting more and more uneasy, so in an attempt to remain calm, he diverted all his attention to maintaining outer composure. He didn't want this fox to know how terrified he was; he'd heard about her cruelty, and he didn't want to do anything to invite it on himself. Of course, all the effort in the world couldn't prevent him from revealing a little bit of fear as she prodded him with the cat-o-nine. It was such a horrible weapon, so evil, every bit as cruel as its owner. One look at it and he was certain no good creature could ever stand to use such a thing.
“Kirig, WHAT exactly am I supposed to do with such a useless looking creature?”
Kirig was too shocked by the destruction of his mini-fantasy to come up with a good answer. "Uhhh- uhhh..."
“Why didn’t you bring back MORE of them, if you’re gonna bring back captives?”
Gulping unhappily, the stoat blustered his way through an answer. "T-there weren't any more..." he lied. Ephriam would have been nigh impossible to capture anyways with the resistance he'd put up, and he hadn't wanted to try anything that might risk the loss of his first catch. "But it only takes o-one prisoner to get information?"
This isn't good, Tirael thought as his captor was berated. He could only be used for gaining information or leverage, and if he wasn't thought to be useful for either, what point was there in keeping him alive? He needed to make sure he seemed important, then, to give them a reason not to kill him. Biting his lip, he waited to see if he would have to.
|
|
|
|
Post by Treble Tiderunner on Nov 3, 2009 13:12:49 GMT -6
"Uhhh- uhhh..." … "T-there weren't any more..."
Lorna raised an eyebrow, her expression one of tested patience. It really was quite amusing, watching Kirig stumble over his excuses, but not too terribly useful. And with storerooms flooded with the rain of the week before, she needed useful.
"But it only takes o-one prisoner to get information?"
“A practical suggestion from you at last, Kirig.” She said condescendingly, patting his cheek with one paw. “Now off with you. Go see somebody about those nasty wounds you and your patrol took capturing a single, unarmed creature.”
Done with the stoat, she turned back to the otter. “And you are who exactly?” She asked, holstering her whip as she considered her captive again.
|
|
|
|
Post by Tirael on Nov 3, 2009 19:40:42 GMT -6
“A practical suggestion from you at last, Kirig.”
Kirig actually brightened up a bit as he imagined he was getting on Lorna's good side, after all. She never really "complimented" anyone, and he wasn't too good at reading sarcasm. But anybeast could read her expression, and when he noticed it he deflated again. Apparently, he was getting no breaks today.
“Now off with you. Go see somebody about those nasty wounds you and your patrol took capturing a single, unarmed creature.”
Nodding unhappily, Kirig turned to leave, pausing as he caught Tirael smirking at him. The stoat left in a huff; Tirael didn't mind. After all, who could witness their captor being berated by a superior and not feel a sense of revenge?
“And you are who exactly?”
Eying Lorna's holstered whip, Tirael suppressed his nerves and tried to figure out how to respond. "Uhh...Tirael. But that's not important." Taking a moment to steel himself, he made his assertion. "What's important is that you're not going to kill me." Swallowing nervously, he tried to maintain a calm, defiant expression at the sadistic fox before him.
|
|
|
|
Post by Treble Tiderunner on Nov 13, 2009 22:08:50 GMT -6
"Uhh...Tirael. But that's not important." Taking a moment to steel himself, he made his assertion. "What's important is that you're not going to kill me."
“Ohoho. Really.” Lorna said, chuckling a little.
“Let me make this perfectly clear.” Suddenly she was in his face again, invading personal space with her clear, mad eyes and calm expression and voice. “You are in my fort now, and you are what I say you are. Important, non important, fed, not fed. Alive. Dead. Do you hear me, waterdog?” she tugged the strands of the whip through her fingers. “Or should I clean your ears for you?”
|
|
|
|
Post by Tirael on Nov 14, 2009 1:05:24 GMT -6
“Ohoho. Really.”
Tirael accidentally winced a little before he remembered to keep a straight face. However, he found himself thinking So much for assertiveness...; maybe there had been a reason doing that had gone so strongly against his instincts. Time to tweak tactics.
“Let me make this perfectly clear.”
Considering how close she was getting, Tirael got the impression that she was very concerned about how clear this was.
“You are in my fort now, and you are what I say you are. Important, non important, fed, not fed. Alive. Dead. Do you hear me, waterdog?”
Tirael was considering how to respond to this when he heard a dry, slithering noise coming from...Lorna's...stomach? Oh, there's her whip again... Seriously, what was her fascination with that thing? Given the general shortage of foxes in the area, and the even greater shortage of creatures Lorna would probably find worthy of her attention, it was probably her way of replacing a romantic relationship...
“Or should I clean your ears for you?”
"Uhh, no, I can hear you..." This wasn't going well. Lorna obviously didn't care at all who he was, and probably didn't think it mattered anyways. If this kept going the way it seemed like it was, she'd probably "say" he would be not fed, or something equally unpleasant. Or, in a worst-case scenario, more unpleasant. It was well within the fox's capacity.
Wonderful.
After a few moments, Tirael glanced back up at the vixen. "Um...what are you going to do with me...exactly?..." he asked with a great deal of hesitation, adjusting his wrists in the cord holding them together. He wasn't sure he wanted to know...
|
|
|
|
Post by Treble Tiderunner on Dec 6, 2009 22:34:49 GMT -6
"Uhh, no, I can hear you..."
“Good.” Was her cheery response, though she still cuffed him not-too-roughly about the ears. She couldn’t be thought of as easy going, after all.
"Um...what are you going to do with me...exactly?..."
“I don’t know yet.” She grabbed his arm roughly and led-dragged him towards the slave compound. “I don’t like slaves, they’re a bloody nuisance in all aspects, but I’ve got you and I’ve got the others.” She shoved him through the gate. “Well at least you’re good for hard work. Healthy specimen, if scrawny.”
She crooked a claw at the guard. “No food for the new one tonite or tomorrow. And don’t feel it necessary to be gentle.” She left, turning on one elegant footpaw and went back to business.
|
|
|
|
Post by Tirael on Dec 7, 2009 0:22:40 GMT -6
“Good.”
Tirael flinched as his captor smacked his head. At least that whip was staying nice and safe, away from Lorna's paws and, more importantly, his own body. The longer it stayed that way, the be--
He was quite literally pulled away from that thought as Lorna grabbed one of his arms and dragged him off toward one side of the main building. If he remembered the layout of the Fort right, they were headed for the slave compound. At least he wasn't getting any special treatment; no reason to be conspicuous in this sort of situation.
“I don’t know yet. I don’t like slaves, they’re a bloody nuisance in all aspects, but I’ve got you and I’ve got the others.”
Huh...slave... Somehow, it hadn't really occurred to him yet that he was a slave now. Sure, he was a prisoner, but he'd gotten into close calls more than once without it coming to anything; apparently, his luck had run out, because what he'd eluded for seventeen years had finally caught up to him.
“Well at least you’re good for hard work. Healthy specimen, if scrawny.”
Lorna's shove sent Tirael off his balance, and he fell to the ground, unable to steady himself or even soften the landing without the use of his paws. At least the dirt was sort of soft.
“No food for the new one tonite or tomorrow. And don’t feel it necessary to be gentle.”
While the fox relayed those last instructions, Tirael rolled over and pushed himself up to a sitting position with his elbow. As if to drive the point home, the guard just offered him a sneer and slammed the gate shut. A few moments later, the otter managed to get back on his feet, but after a long look at the gate, he just hung his head in defeat.
What was he going to do now?
|
|
