The Choice

[Shor]

It had taken a while, but he'd finally caught up. Ever since Tam had rushed off in the middle of their conversation, Lachlan had wondered relation she had to this Skipper. Now that he was actually near the place they were gathered, he could hear all he needed to.

“At any rate, here ’Skipper’ is just another name for ‘marked for death.’”

Right, thought the seer, so this group must have been through several Skippers hitherto. He almost chuckled. Sounded a lot like good ol' Ruddaring. Oh, good! Lachlan was finally within sight of the "camp," so to speak. He could see Tam clearly, but decided to keep himself out of sight until she was finished venting.

“Tagyr is dead, but my uncle is not. Yet. And I intend to keep him alive.” She glanced in the direction of the fort, frustration on her face. “If only Tirael were here. He is the healer, I am not. I am merely the warrior.”

Warrior? An ottermaid? Lachie was interested, but thought it best to figure out what he could from what he could hear. Mulling over what she'd said, he continued watching and listening.

The Skipper put a hefty paw on Tam's shoulder . "Don't worry matey...Undertaker knows what ta' do..." he said putting the other paw on his shoulder as well. "I'll lead tha' battle...I'll be by yer side...I'll make sure you and he stay alive...Even if it takes my life..."

Oh, a sea otter. By the look of him, this was probably a Sea Skipper. Odd, what would he be doing this far inland? Well, probably the same as the Tiderunners. . .

After another moment of thought, Lachlan emerged from his obscure location, and limped into camp. He studied the scene, specifically the badly wounded Skipper, and the other, soaked otter tied to a tree. He stopped as he passed by the latter. Shifting his weight to his good footpaw, he pointed the cane at Rogg. "I like you," he said, a peculiar smirk on his face. It was clear that nobeast very much liked Rogg at the moment, which invariably meant that Lachie did. It was part of lightening the mood, but to lighten a dark mood, one had to kill it.

His potentially irritating charade came to a halt as he glanced between Skipper and Tam. He sighed, and, shaking his head, approached the ottermaid. Lachlan looked up at the large sea otter beside her. "Sorry, but c'n I have a moment with Tam?" Then, as if to dispel any questions, he added, "No, I don't know you." He followed his statement by looking at Tam, now directing the question at her as well.

[tacticalotter2]

As his captors left, Rogg started to feel a burning hate for himself welling up from memories of his past life. Memories of his young days on Green Isle and memories of victims of his business. These thoughts were the worst, the remembering of how he had become a mercenary. His first contract and the screams of his first target's wife. The otter had never thought about all of the pain that he had brought into the world, but the assassination attempt on Skipper had awakened a small part in his heart, a small part the felt compassion and sorrow.

But he was so tired and the young otter could not resist the urge to succumb to sleep, and he did. With the screams of those he had hurt ringing in his mind, the once though killer fell into a fitful slumber, his dreams plagued by his past....



A few lighting streaks the dark sky, and dark storm clouds were forming in the sky. It was an insanely large storm that was about to erupt over Green Isle, and Elian was going to be caught in it, along with her two otter pups, Rogg and Tharin. They had been going to the tide pools by the cliffs to have a wonderful day of paddling about in the warm waters, but she had not read the skys correctly and they had been caught right in the middle of the biggest storm Green Isle had seen in 17 cycles. What bad timing.......

"Tharin! Get back over here!! We're going back to the holt, it's too dangerous out here!! Come on!!" Elian, was screaming at the little otter tottering toward the stairs that led to the tide pools. She knew that if he went further then he would probably fall over the cliffs from which the tide pools were accessed from.


There were algae covered stairs cut into the sheer rock face and the little ones were never allowed to go there without adults keeping them safe and in check. But Tharin was trying to make his way over to the stairs even though raindrops were starting to patter on the rocky ground, and he was not an infant otter that was diverted easily. And he kept going toward the start of the stairs ignoring the imploring shouts of his mother.
"I wanna go play at the tide pools mommy!" He called back over his shoulder in a high, but determined voice.

His brother Rogg, who was slightly older then him, left his mother's side and started to run after his little brother. He wasn't going to be left behind while Tharin had fun in the tide pools, no sir he wasn't.

Elian emitted an exasperated sigh as she chased after her two sons. Why were kids always so hard headed? Why couldn't they just listen to her and come back before the storm really started up. She grabbed Rogg just before he made it to the stairs and pulled him back, talking to him in a commanding voice.
"Stay here and don't move!"
Tharin was already making his way down the steep incline and his mother could not catch him before he had made it quite a ways down the stairs.

The rain was starting in earnest now and a loud crash of thunder resounded around the inlet where the tide pools were, making Tharin nearly jump out of his fur. The little otter stopped and looked up at the rain coming down from the heavens. Then another lighting streak lit up the sky and thunder boomed louder then a thousand bass drums. It was too much for the little guy and he sat down on the slippery steps, covered his ears and started crying.

Rogg started at the thunder and his heart started pounding with fear. He peered over the edge of the cliff and looked down at his brother and his mother chasing him, a worried expression upon his rain soaked face. He could see his brother looking pitiful and hunkered down on the steps, poor Tharin, he's going to have nightmares about the storm for weeks.

Elian was almost to Tharin when the thunder exploded from the sky, but she did not care about that. It tore her heart to see the little fellow there, crying, his head buried in his paws. But she needed to get him, and take him back up to safety, and that would be hard with the slippery stairs. She slipped and gasped as she started to fall to the rocks below, but she grabbed for purchase on the wall and recovered her balance. Before she moved on, the otter looked up at Rogg staring wide eyed from the top, then smiled and waved reassuringly and she could see his face break into a half-hearted grin. Then Elian continued down, more carefully now after almost falling to her death. What a horrible way to die that would be....

When she got to Tharin, the little otter looked up, his face so tearful and sad. Elian bent down and picked him up with comforting paws, speaking in a soft voice.
"It's okay Tharin, mommy's got you now. We'll go back home and then come back in a few days to play in the water so don't worry"
The terrified little otter managed a small smile for his mother, her words feeling like a warm blanket on a cold night to his body, he loved his mommy.

Elian started hiking back up the cliff, but the extra weight made it hard for her to move too quickly and she was tired anyway. Every step was like having to walk a mile for her, but she needed to get her son back to the top and back to the holt before it was too late.

Suddenly, she felt her footpaws starting to slip on an extra wet patch of algae. Her left paw reached out to grab at the wall and steady herself, but there was nothing there, and she felt herself starting to fall backwards. Her heart jumped onto her throat and she could feel Tharin's little paws grip her tighter. She started to feel a scream rip from her throat as she saw the wall, and the steps starting to recede, and the sensation of falling engulf her body....

Rogg scream mingled with that of his mothers as he saw her and his brother fall to the tide pools, he could see the desperate look upon Elian's face as she fell, down down down, for what seemed like an eternity to the little otter. He jumped up and stopped screaming as his mother and brother his the earth. His small body started shaking and he stared down at his mother that was once so full of life. How could she be dead? He could not survive without her. Rogg began crying pitifully as he realized that his mommy and his best friend (Tharin) were dead. He looked up at the sky and let out a hopeless, disturbing yell.....


Rogg Streambattle snapped into wakefulness with the vivid dream stamped in his mind. The mercenary otter was sweating, shaking and breathing hard with the long ago memories revisited. That was the worst day in his life. Even though it was such a long time ago, he could still remember every little emotion, every word that creatures had said to try and help him. He still felt so alone, so destitute, so... sad.

His thoughts were interrupted with the appearance of a young male otter. Rogg did not even meet the other's gaze when the stranger spoke. Rogg assumed that he was just another angry rebel looking for Skipper's assassin to beat up.



I like you



The mercenary otter stammered and squirmed awkwardly as he replied.
"T-thanks matey.... I-I um... Well... I'm sorry about Skipper" He broke down then and started crying as he thought of all the pain that he was causing to the skipper. How could he be so cruel to another otter?.....

[Treble Tiderunner]

The Skipper put a hefty paw on Tam's shoulder . "Don't worry matey...Undertaker knows what ta' do..." he said putting the other paw on his shoulder as well. "I'll lead tha' battle...I'll be by yer side...I'll make sure you and he stay alive...Even if it takes my life..."

Tam gave a slight smile as Skipper put his paw on her shoulder. “Thank you.” She left out the words that came first to her mind, that she could take care of herself and that she wasn’t so concerned about herself personally, she didn’t think she would mind death all that much. But he’d offered a great sacrifice and she would not cheapen it.

"Kay, Skipp I'm gonna pour this down you..."

Her attention was drawn to Ephraim as he rushed up with a steaming concoction in a small kettle. She crouched down, supporting her uncle’s unconscious body as Ephraim administered the liquid. “He’s unconscious, Ephraim, go slow or he’ll choke.” His fur was hot under her fingers, it was a relief to lay him back down after Ephraim had finished. She stood again, turning as she heard an uneven tread approach through the snow.

"Sorry, but c'n I have a moment with Tam?" Then, as if to dispel any questions, he added, "No, I don't know you."

“Oh, so ye followed me.” Tam didn’t think she could be of any more use here, she was not accomplished in domestic things and she’d always avoided the healer’s tents except when bothering Tirs, so she nodded a farewell to the sea Skipper. “Ye never said why ye came.” She observed before preceding Lachlan out of the tent.

[Shor]

Lachie hadn't heard Rogg's comment, focused more on Tampa at the moment. Still, he felt a tinge of sadness for the otter tied to a tree, though he hadn't the slightest idea as to why.

“Oh, so ye followed me.” Tam nodded her farewell to the Sea Skipper.

Lachlan shrugged. "Where else coold Ah go?" He smiled inwardly. Sounded like Uncle Murdoch for a moment there.

“Ye never said why ye came.” She observed before preceding Lachlan out of the tent.

He followed behind her, limping along steadily. "Ah was jus' lookin' fur Kegret, really," he said dismissively, "but wot kind of otter leaves a pretty ottermaid laek yerself when 'er uncle's wounded?" Lachie had always been a flirt, but this time, he was completely serious (about not leaving her, that is).

He motioned with his paw that they should move a little further away from everybeast else. Keeping his focus steadily on Tampa's eyes, he continued. "Look, I may not know ye as well as these beasts," he gestured to the others, "but Ah know ye lost yore fam'ly, an' this-- yore uncle bein' all ye have left. . ." He trailed off, not really knowing what to say. Why hadn't he thought this through? He looked to his paws resting atop his cane, searching for words. ". . . Well, I don't think ye should 'ave t'deal wi' that. Not on yore own, a'least. . ." He didn't know where he was going with this, exactly. In all honesty, Lachie didn't even know quite why he was here. Perhaps it was because he'd lost his own family recently, and some part of him had resolved not to let anybeast else suffer through the same. In any case, he felt that he was making quite the fool of himself. It was a wonder, as he'd never had so much trouble talking to anybeast before.

---

((Mental block halfway through. Sorry.))

[Skipper of Sea Otters]

so she nodded a farewell to the sea Skipper. “Ye never said why ye came.” She observed before preceding Lachlan out of the tent.


The Skipper looked up. He was a little taken back by the question. The actual reason was that He was visited by a Warrior mouse in his sleep...but that wouldn't have gone over too well. "Just a coincidence...I suppose." he fibbed, trying to mask the real reason he was there. He turned back to the group. "As much As I hate to say this..."He turned to Undertaker. "Undertaker...as much as valuable fighter you are....your going to have to stay here....You medical expertise is the best for the job..." Blade immediately poked his head in having arrived hearing the inexcusable words from Skipper's muzzle. "Skip! You can't make Undertaker stay 'ere! He'll be able to take have the battlefield if we let em go! Make me stay!" he protested as he offered his service. "Blade..." The skipper said in a low voice trying to come within reason. "Blade nuthin'! He can teach me what he knows and I can stay here!"
Skipper was growing restless "And what if he starts having an attack inside of Him?! What if the Poison builds itself up!? What will you do then? I wont have another dead otter on my hands! Not one of my own kind, Steelclaw!" The Skipper shouted infront of the group, tossing a tin cup into the fire outside.

The Skipper had used Blade last name. He must have really been upset. But that only made Blade more upset. "What if it was me...." Blade said keeping a determined look on his face. "What if I was the one there...Irvine Wolf..." Blade had used his Skipper's actual name...This was not good...
"Am I not your own kind too? You've always put priority first...and the priority is this battle you've gotten us into. Your crew...We don't even know why you decided to come here...but were here now so the crew comes first...Undertaker has to fight...I'm not a good fighter anyway. Please skipper....His death will be on my paws...If he dies you can kill me...just...trust me..."
The skipper looked up from his rage. "I'll hold you to it Blade...."

The Skipper stormed out of the tent headed for Rogg and stepped behind him drawing his knife The blade pressed against his face moving down to his throat. "If I were still a corsair...I wouldn't give you time to think about this blade. It would already be embedded in your throat..." The skipper pressed a little harder drawing a small about of blood. He leaned his head against the post in stressful thought."But I'm not....that beast anymore...I came to reason..." The skipper removed the knife from Rogg's neck and moved it from his neck to the ropes. "I was given a Second chance..." He said, cutting Rogg's bonds. "Don't waste yours...."

[Treble Tiderunner]

Treble could see the holt, carefree and lively, but things were fuzzy and seemed to slide in his vision. Then he saw a mouse carrying a sword and he knew it was a dream. Feverdream, though everything was cold. He’d known, since Undertaker had pulled the arrows and he’d realized they were poison, that he’d die. The mouse—Martin!— gave him a sharp look and he shifted, moving about in the dream, reaching for something just out of reach.

”No! Don’t count yore old unc out just yet, Tam!” He shouted but it was just a whimper in the real world, a murmur as his arm twitched, a memory of reaching out to gather something in close.

Then he tasted a warm brew bubbling over his lips and he worked his throat, thirsty for anything.

“Treble.” The mouse repeated himself when no attention was paid. “Skipper. You are very close to death, but those who love you are not ready to let go and you still have a chance. Win this for me. I have sent you a Skipper. He will lead well, they will always have a skipper to follow, but he is not you and this is not your time.” His voice was suddenly amplified by scores of the old heroes and heroines, and he gaped at the first solid thing in his sight, two great wooden gates set in stone and guarding a dark forests. He was so tired and the dimness was so inviting… he took a step forward but the Shining Sword was in his way, the mouse grimly wielding it. “No my friend. You cannot rest yet. Go back and have some happiness yet in your life.”

“Martin…” Skipper finally recognized the mouse and… the dream seemed to end and he was waking, laying beneath heavy lids an argument went on about his head.

"And what if he starts having an attack inside of Him?! What if the Poison builds itself up!? What will you do then? I won’t have another dead otter on my hands! Not one of my own kind, Steelclaw!"

“Stop…” but the words seemed to go by unnoticed, the single whisper of a dying beast.

"What if it was me...." Blade said keeping a determined look on his face. "What if I was the one there...Irvine Wolf..."

“Martin.” He said, marginally louder. Who was Irvine Wolf?

"Am I not your own kind too? You've always put priority first...and the priority is this battle you've gotten us into. Your crew...We don't even know why you decided to come here...but were here now so the crew comes first...Undertaker has to fight...I'm not a good fighter anyway. Please skipper....His death will be on my paws...If he dies you can kill me...just...trust me..."

This was frustrating, he thought, forcing his lids open and staring around the small tent. Or at least, seeing what his eyes would roll and see.

"I'll hold you to it Blade...."

“Nonsense.” Skipper managed a full word, almost at normal speaking volume. “No one need…” he faded off before blinking and forcing his head to turn and find Blade. “No one need stay behind… I am not an invalid… I will not die.” He knew suddenly this was true, how could he have ever considered just… letting go? “Tirael… where is my son?”

“He will be needed… after the battle.” They would need him. They would need them all but they needed the healers most of all. “He’s needed to heal… where is your Skipper? I have a… message for him.”

His volume dipped and faded but he kept the numbness at bay. Eyes firmly on Blade, if a little feverbright.

[tacticalotter2]

Rogg sighed as Lachlan left, he had hoped that he might have been able to talk to the other otter, that was something he missed; companionship. He had not really had a full conversation in such a long time, he might find it hard to carry on speaking with another creature for some time. Rogg, being an otter, was by nature talkative and friendly, but after all his mother and brother had died, he had become socially inept and most of his friends had left him. His father had tried to help him, but Rogg never fully experienced the love of a mother, and the lack of that was the main reason that he is the way he is.


After a short while, the young otter could hear loud but indistinct voices coming from inside the tent, and then the big otter who had beaten Rogg up earlier came storming out of the tent like an shark, looking for blood. Great, not this guy. When he saw who it was, the once powerful assassin braced himself for another beating, or worse.

The young otter blenched as the skipper's foul breath met his nostrils. What a pong this otter had... But there were worse things to cope with for Rogg, like the sharp blade that was pressing into his thick throat fur. Then even more fishy breath as the other otter spoke.



"If I were still a corsair...I wouldn't give you time to think about this blade. It would already be embedded in your throat..."


"Wow..." Rogg interrupted sarcastically, but immediately stopped realizing that Skipper had more to say. The mercenary otter would never have thought that this other otter had been a corsair, he just didn't seem the time.



"But I'm not....that beast anymore...I came to reason..." The skipper removed the knife from Rogg's neck and moved it from his neck to the ropes. "I was given a Second chance..." He said, cutting Rogg's bonds. "Don't waste yours...."


Rogg was extremely surprised when he felt his paws jerked as the rope binding him to the stake were cut. Maybe this Skipper chap wasn't that bad after all? Letting a prisoner go, now that was a new one on the young otter. If their positions had been reversed, the other otter would probably be dead laying in the woods, feeding the ants. But compassion? What a strange thing coming from a corsair. But the surprised otter was not about to look a gift horse in the mouth, and he knew that he should play his cards right. With his leg wound still open and bleeding, and no weapons, and a camp of angry rebels, it would be good to take the 'second chance'. Besides, they had spared his life and that had touched Rogg's heart. But he still felt the remains of malice towards Skipper after receiving such an intense beating, and he looked up at the other otter, still sitting on the ground.
"A second chance to do what? Be hated? No, you should have killed me before and spared me your anger" He said with a wan expression upon his whiskery features.


The young otter awkwardly rose, rubbing ruefully at his wrists where the tight rope had cut through his fur and into his skin. Immediately, he gasped and leaned on the stake as streaks of pain radiated from the dirty wound on the back of his leg. He had forgotten about that....

[Skipper of Sea Otters]

“He will be needed… after the battle.” They would need him. They would need them all but they needed the healers most of all. “He’s needed to heal…

Blade shook his head. "Out of the question...matey...I'm stayin' here with you...even if I'm not gonna heal ya I'm still gonna protect ya. Skipper's orders...." He said with respect.

“He will be needed… after the battle.” They would need him. They would need them all but they needed the healers most of all. “He’s needed to heal… where is your Skipper? I have a… message for him.”


Blade looked out of the tent looking for the skipper but couldn't see him. When he turned back to the other skipper a worried look had made its way to his face.

---------------------
((approved G-mod ahead))

"A second chance to do what? Be hated? No, you should have killed me before and spared me your anger" He said with a wan expression upon his whiskery features. The young otter awkwardly rose, rubbing ruefully at his wrists where the tight rope had cut through his fur and into his skin. Immediately, he gasped and leaned on the stake as streaks of pain radiated from the dirty wound on the back of his leg.

The Skipper had had enough...He balled up a fist and gritted his teeth in anger. "GAAAAH!" He launched himself at the wounded otter in an unearthly growl grabbing him by his tunic and smashing him into the stake. He smashed his forearm into the back of Rogg's neck to pin him and pulled out his dagger. "Maybe I should kill you! At least I'd be rid of your Stupidity! Dammit I'm trying to Help you!" He held the tip infront of Roggs face centimeters from his eye. "Get some sense in yer head...I'm giving you second chance. I want you to be better than me..." He re-sheathed his dagger. "You can leave the life you had...killing the innocent...Its not worth it...whatever you were getting paid...Its not worth it...it never is....trust me. I've been down your road before." He took his forearm off of Rogg's neck and released him to the ground and stood up. "Your not going to be hated....at least until you do something else stupid..." he stepped back breathing heavy from adrenaline. "One more mistake...and I promise you...no air is ever gonna pass through your lungs..."

[tacticalotter2]

Rogg's eyes widened as he heard a disturbing roar and as he saw the big otter charging him, he was not ready to retaliate and all he could do was brace himself for impact. He wasn't expecting that Skipper's next move would be to charge and try to kill him, maybe the mercenary had misjudged Skipper? At first, Rogg had thought that he might actually have a bit of sanity in his head, but apparently he was wrong.... The Skipper of Sea Otters seemed to be completely mad.

"Maybe I should kill you! At least I'd be rid of your Stupidity! Dammit I'm trying to Help you!" He held the tip infront of Roggs face centimeters from his eye. "Get some sense in yer head...I'm giving you second chance. I want you to be better than me..." He re-sheathed his dagger. "You can leave the life you had...killing the innocent...Its not worth it...whatever you were getting paid...Its not worth it...it never is....trust me. I've been down your road before." He took his forearm off of Rogg's neck and released him to the ground and stood up. "Your not going to be hated....at least until you do something else stupid..."


The young otter unfortunately could do nothing to stop Skipper from pinning his to the stake by his neck and menacing him with a dagger. At first, Rogg thought that he might need to take drastic action, disarm the other otter, neutralize him and then hobble off and hide somewhere in the forest whilst his leg healed fully. But as the skipper spoke, Rogg could start to feel his emotions and thoughts going from a survival mode, to a flood of memories and self hate. Deep down, he had always hated himself for what he had become, for what he had done, for not being able to save his mother, for leaving Green Isle, for so many things. He had gone from being a motherless little otter, into an emotionless killer, living only to serve himself, rarely thinking of others; except in the rare case when he would spare the life of a victim or not kill a creature in cold blood. But for all of the things he had done, he still just wanted to be loved, to be accepted into a community, to have one true friend. Could there be any hope to resurrect the love in his own heart?


Staring at Skipper, he slightly fell back, leaning heavily on the stake, his wounded leg burning like fire, he spoke his mind to the angry otter, voice shaking with sadness, and unshed tears welling up in his eyes.
"You have no idea what it's like to be hated and feared everywhere you go! To be looked on as just a tool for the slaying of others. No idea what it's like to try to strike up a conversation and be responded to with: 'What the hell do you want' EVERYWHERE. Everywhere you go, known for your killing techniques, not your kindness, not your face, the way you kill."
A hot tear rolled out of the otter's eye and slid down his cheek.
"You have no idea what it's like to kill with no emotion, with no remorse! No....." The young otter diverted his eyes, remembering the last time he had been hugged with any true love.... so many years ago, and he also remembered the first time he had taken a life without thought. Those two thoughts hurt worse then the bleeding wound on his leg. He continued softly, another tear splashing to the earth.
"No feeling"


The distraught otter suddenly looked Skipper right in the eyes and swiftly moved forward, mixed emotions engulfing him and making him forget the physical pain, only the mental anguish remained, driving him onward the few limping steps. Rogg got right up in Skipper's face, his eyes so sad and tearful, but his voice nearly screaming.
"KILL ME. KILL ME AND JUSTIFY YOUR MISERABLE EXISTENCE A LITTLE BIT MORE BY ENDING MINE. Do it. Stab be right through my broken heart. I've got nothing to live for fool"
Rogg's heart pounded as he shouted in the skipper's face, he almost meant the words he said.... and it shocked him.... he had nothing to live for...

[Skipper of Sea Otters]

"You have no idea what it's like to be hated and feared everywhere you go! To be looked on as just a tool for the slaying of others. No idea what it's like to try to strike up a conversation and be responded to with: 'What the hell do you want' EVERYWHERE. Everywhere you go, known for your killing techniques, not your kindness, not your face, the way you kill."
A hot tear rolled out of the otter's eye and slid down his cheek.
"You have no idea what it's like to kill with no emotion, with no remorse! No....." The young otter diverted his eyes, remembering the last time he had been hugged with any true love.... so many years ago, and he also remembered the first time he had taken a life without thought. Those two thoughts hurt worse then the bleeding wound on his leg. He continued softly, another tear splashing to the earth.
"No feeling"

The Skipper simply stood back and listened, glaring into Rogg's eyes. There was no sign of Anger in him at all. Irritation maybe, but not anger. Why wouldn't this otter just realize he could start over? Forget the past and come back to reality? It was time he was told. If Rogg didn't make a change, Skipper would do no more.

"KILL ME. KILL ME AND JUSTIFY YOUR MISERABLE EXISTENCE A LITTLE BIT MORE BY ENDING MINE. Do it. Stab be right through my broken heart. I've got nothing to live for fool"

Skipper was calm...as calm as he could be anyway. Skipper grabbed Rogg by the tunic and pushed him back forcefully."I have no idea what its like to be hated?! Who tha' hell do you think yer talking to?! You think I had an easy life?! Sit down...." He said calmly. "NOW!"
Skipper began pacing back and forth.

"Let me tell you about my life...I was born in this forest...my mother and my father took me when i was 6 to the western shore...just for a little trip to see the sea. We were captured by corsairs and we served on a ship until i was about 12...I started being defiant towards them...because I knew right from wrong. I knew who to stand for...for a while anyway..." he said. His attitude became increasingly vile as he remembered the events that took place. "The Slave captain...saw I was becoming rebellious. I refused to follow their orders and took a beating from them nearly daily. I in fact became so rebellious I strangled and killed the ships second in command...Oh the captain he loved this....Loved it to death he did! He offered me a life without the beatings. No more rowing! No more pain! No more taking orders...! I accepted of course...I didn't know what the price was..." his eyes showed a little more sadness as he spoke and his voice was quiet.

"The Captain....took my paw...placed this dagger in it....and forced me to run my parents though. He forced my paw to take this dagger... and plunge it into my parents hearts...I hated it...every moment of it...the more and more the dagger sunk, the more and more I wish my life had ended...And I thought about it...But I turned my sadness into anger...I put all my emotion into hatred. I didn't care it was an otter, mouse or rat at the oar. I became the hated. I became the feared. I killed the captain and took over command of the vessel. Everywhere I went, I was the one being eyed. I was the one who was different and I turned that into more anger! I was non existent! I killed anyone who looked at me funny or eyed me the wrong way! I went through 25 years of that... You think your the one with problems!? At least I'm giving you a Chance to get out of it sooner than i did!" Skipper slowed he's breathing and calmed down.

"One day...I met a another ship...another otter...Immediately I ordered to attack it. I wanted him dead...I was already the most feared on the sea. My ship was known by every captain who lived to tell about me...I wanted him dead..." He smirked tilting his head in thought. "That otter...Killed every one of my Crew...accept me...I was the first otter he had met to have been serving the wrong side...No doubt i put up a fight...i but he saw something in me...I don't know how...but he did..." he looked at Rogg. "Somehow he saw that he could turn me around...it took him a year before his crew trusted me...I went from being the most hated vermin dog to being part of the Skipper of Sea otter's crew. When he died I took up his place...his crew had it no other way...they wanted me...So don't tell me you deserve to die.....if anything you deserve to live...More than I do...."

[Treble Tiderunner]

Skipper rolled off the bed, his limbs seemed a little sluggish in responding but he didn’t give it a thought. He stood, unsteadily but he stood. He was still Skipper, and scorch his rudder if he was going to lay about like an invalid. He made it to the door, swaying, but this too went unnoticed by the Skipper. His eyes narrowed as he took in the scene before him. Never in his life had he seen such obstinate beasts, so young and so hurting and so angry. Well, he saw it in his Tam, but not like this.

“Ye both are… fools. Idiots.” He said, leaning on the pole at the entrance to the tent. He was haggard but his fevered eyes rested squarely on the two squabbling otters. He pointed a paw at Rogg. “Yore life ‘as…been ‘ard matey—aye, an’ yores too.” He swung his focus to Skipper. “Life is not easy… Life is not kind.”

“He is givin’ ye wot…was once offered ‘im.” He looked at SoSO. “I wish I could… ‘ave met ‘im, yore Skipp.” He walked towards the pair, unsteady, pulling at his wounds and injuring them further, but feeling them only as twinges and an unlooked-for inconvience. There was a sense of dignity and pride that forbade help. He rested a paw on either otter’s shoulder.

“Do not look t’th’ past…lads. Only, only th’ future…offers ye any kindness…in these times.” A hint of a sad smile ghosted his lips as his eyes distanced, looking into his own past. He turned now to Rogg, removing his paw from Skipper’s shoulder and placing it on his own chest.

“Ye shot me lad.” It was a statement, and his direct look demanded nothing, only waited.

---

"Where else coold Ah go?"

“To the fort.” her voice was flat on the words, decades of hate and desperation behind them. The fort. It was Redwall to the elders, but still everyone called it The Fort. What sad times they lived in.

“Ah was jus' lookin' fur Kegret, really," he said dismissively, "but wot kind of otter leaves a pretty ottermaid laek yerself when 'er uncle's wounded?"

“One who's smart.” She said, giving Rogg-- the assassin, a dirty look as they passed.

"Look, I may not know ye as well as these beasts," he gestured to the others, "but Ah know ye lost yore fam'ly, an' this-- yore uncle bein' all ye have left. . ." He trailed off, not really knowing what to say. Why hadn't he thought this through? He looked to his paws resting atop his cane, searching for words. ". . . Well, I don't think ye should 'ave t'deal wi' that. Not on yore own, a'least. . ."

“I have not lost all my family.” She stated, looking back towards the fort. “I have my brother. I have my uncle.” She stopped, words not coming easily after all she had said in the tent. At least, she hoped she still had Tirael. How long would he last? Lorna had always been cruel, calculating. Tam had barely made it out of the Fort alive, now Lorna was leader, and her brother was captive. Absently she rubbed her wrist, feeling the rope scars through the thin fur there, it had never really grown back.

“Who did you lose?” She said, turning her face and mind back towards Lachlan.

[Shor]

“To the fort.” her voice was flat on the words, decades of hate and desperation behind them.

Lachlan frowned inwardly. She was so serious for an ottermaid.

“One who's smart.” She said, giving Rogg-- the assassin, a dirty look as they passed.

Well, at least that was directed at Rogg.

“I have not lost all my family.” She stated, looking back towards the fort. “I have my brother. I have my uncle.”

He shrugged his big shoulders. "Semantics," Lachlan said nonchalantly. So she still had family, but there wasn't much blood relation. As far as Lachie was concerned, she'd still lost her family -- most of it, anyway. Even Lachlan had uncles, but he had no desire to visit them again, let alone consider them family -- Uncle Murdoch was the only one he liked, but then, Murdoch wasn't a blood relative. As far as Tampa's brother went, it was obvious (at least to Lachlan) that he was an adopted one.

He caught the slight movement of Tam rubbing the scars on her wrists. It was safe to assume she held some deep feelings about the fort in regards to her slavery. Lachie couldn't honestly say that he could relate -- he'd never been a slave before. It would probably be wise to tread softly here.

She turned to Lachlan. “Who did you lose?”

That felt like a blow to the stomach. While he'd expected the question, it was still too soon. Though, now that he thought about it, she could have meant one of two things. Either she was asking who he was looking for, which he figured he'd already answered -- Kegret -- or, more likely, she was asking about his family. He sighed. "Everybeast. . ." As he spoke, his eyes searched Tam's expression, as though her own brown eyes held the solution to his dilemma.

Shaking his head, he steered the conversation elsewhere. "But anyway, try nottae worry 'bout yore brother." He gestured to the fort. "I'm shore 'e'll show up 'ere safe an' sound." He spoke reassuringly, including a warm smile for good measure, but didn't really expect it to ease Tam's anxiety much.

"But Ah think ye should be more concerned wi' the Fort fur now. I'm sensing there'll be a big battle soon--" Lachie stopped, mentally slapping himself. He'd said "sense." And after all he'd done to keep from being a seer! His good footpaw shifted nervously as he hoped Tampa wouldn't pay heed to his mistake.

[tacticalotter2]

[I'm not gonna copy SoSO's whole tirade here lol, so I'll just respond like parts of it I guess.]

Skipper was calm...as calm as he could be anyway. Skipper grabbed Rogg by the tunic and pushed him back forcefully."I have no idea what its like to be hated?! Who tha' hell do you think yer talking to?! You think I had an easy life?! Sit down...." He said calmly. "NOW!"
Skipper began pacing back and forth.



Rogg did not even resist the Skipper's strong paws that grabbed him and thrust him back, he didn't care, if he was going to die, this was as good a day as any. What did he have to live for anyway? All he had ever done was kill and destroy, never thinking about what was right and wrong, he had no right to live, and now his life was going to be ended by an insane otter. Then he was released. What a strange world Rogg Streambattle lived in.... But he still didn't care, all he could feel was self hate, and self pity, and he stepped back, stumbling over his own thick tail but caught himself before he could fall completely. He just stood there, starring glumly at the pacing form that radiated anger and emotion.



Section one Tirade



Rogg started to feel sick again, what a horrible thing to happen, being captured by corsairs. The young otter had never actually been on a corsair ship before, but he could imagine the hard life that it must have been for Skipper, and the awful atrocities that must have been committed inside the walls that probably reeked of death and despair. Probably, it would have been a lot like prison.... Rogg shifted uncomfortably.




Section two Tirade




The distraught otter almost threw up when Skipper told him he had killed his own parents. He sat down hard on the ground, wide eyes starring into empty space. What a malicious thing that captain had made the poor otter do, how could Skipper even do something like that? But then again, how could Rogg shoot another otter with poisoned arrows.



Section three Tirade



This creature had been given a second chance? Rogg had rarely known mercy or compassion in his short life, but somehow, it struck him in the depths of his heart, triggering a small flow of tears to course down his cheek. And now who was the one getting the second chances? Him. The one who had shot the other Skipper. Him. The young otter buried his face in his webbed paws, shaking as he tried to hold back the cries that wanted to burst into the light of day, carrying all the painful memories and thoughts with them. But he did not let them out audibly, only soaking his paws with salty tears and racking his stocky body with tremors of unspoken emotions. All the hopes and fears of all the years, they seemed to descend upon Rogg at that moment, he saw his mother's face, he saw his first love, he saw the face of Skipper as the arrows entered his chest.... He saw so many things, but he could never let them out, never.



“Ye both are… fools. Idiots.” He said, leaning on the pole at the entrance to the tent. He was haggard but his fevered eyes rested squarely on the two squabbling otters. He pointed a paw at Rogg. “Yore life ‘as…been ‘ard matey—aye, an’ yores too.” He swung his focus to Skipper. “Life is not easy… Life is not kind.”



Rogg did not even look up to see who these new words of wisdom, he just sat there crying, and he shivered as he felt a heavy paw rest upon his shoulder.



“Ye shot me lad.”



Rogg looked up into the face from whence the voice had come, his tear stained face a mask of terrified anguish. Those very words had been haunting his for years, he had heard them in his dreams, thought of them when he was alone, all these years they had haunted him, for some unknown reason. But now that he had actually heard them said, they shocked him like ice cold water on a summer day, and they burned like a hot iron poker, searing into his fur and flesh. The young otter suddenly gave a demented wail and he once again buried his face in his paws, crying without shame.
"I'm sorry I'm sorry I don't know wh-who I am... I ca-cant... do ... No... no no no no..."
He was basically babbling now, but he felt truly sorry for what he had done, for all he had done.....

[Skipper of Sea Otters]

“He is givin’ ye wot…was once offered ‘im.” He looked at SoSO. “I wish I could… ‘ave met ‘im, yore Skipp.” He walked towards the pair, unsteady, pulling at his wounds and injuring them further, but feeling them only as twinges and an unlooked-for inconvience. There was a sense of dignity and pride that forbade help. He rested a paw on either otter’s shoulder.


Skipper looked down and tightened his lips, nodding his head. "Aye....I wish I could've known him longer..."


"I'm sorry I'm sorry I don't know wh-who I am... I ca-cant... do ... No... no no no no..."
He was basically babbling now, but he felt truly sorry for what he had done, for all he had done.....

Skipper rolled his eyes. "Enough enough enough...!" He said grabbing the otter by the collar and slapping him across the face. "Get your tail in that tent and get yer leg mended and you'll fight for us in few days, all good, all done, all forgiven...Otherwise you can take that stuff of yers, shove it in yer ears and go away. Stop yer blubberin' and decide. Ya know what? Let us know what you decide...We'll be in the tent." He leaned in and whispered to the other Skipper. "Lets head in...He'll make his choice but he'll have to do it on his own."