This story takes place in the Redwall universe (which was created by the most amazing Brian Jacques), and begins in the Vulpine Imperium, an Empire of vermin in the oceans far north of Mossflower. Details about the Vulpine Imperium (often referred to as the VI), a world created by the great Retto and other fantastic RPers, can be found at rovl.org/vi

The characters are mostly of my own creation, developed over many years through RP at the VI. A few characters written by others on the VI will be making appearances in this first story arc and perhaps future stories. Credit will be given to the writers of those characters. If you have questions about the characters or about the VI, feel free to contact me or see the link provided below.

For maps and other information about the VI, visit the VI wiki: rovl. org/vi_wiki/index. php

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Prologue

Also titled: An honest beast? Hardly.

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"So we have a ship and supplies. Now all we need is a crew." Sken tapped the rim of her flagon of ale with a claw, gazing across the rough-hewn, round oak table. Sitting across from the marteness was her business partner and close friend, Torrent Antonius. The dapper ferret look back at her over steepled fingers, a glass of cordial in front of him.

"And a heading," he added. Sken raised an eyebrow in mock surprise.

"You don't think 'sail into the wild blue yonder' is a good heading? I think it might tempt somebeasts."

"Only those with very good reason to get away from here—types we may not be particularly interested in having in our crew."

Sken looked hurt. "Am I not a beast who has very good reasons to get out of this place?"

Torrent sighed and shook his head as Sken took a sip, sharp, blue eyes twinkling over the top of the flagon.

"Yes," Torrent said. "But you are likely an exception in that you are an honest beast fleeing because the dishonest ones are after you, rather than the other way around."

"Honest?" Sken's boisterous laghter crowed through the near-empty tavern. "Hardly. You know me too well to say that with seriousness."

"You know what I mean," Torrent said in exasperation. "To get back on topic, I just think some sort of heading will help us draw in a good crew."

Sken raised a scarred paw in defeat. "Okay, okay. You're right. You also sound like you already have an idea, which means you're ahead of me in the matters of logistics, as usual."

"Not as usual as you think, ma'am," Torrent said with a respectful bow of his head. Sken snorted and rolled her eyes. The ferret continued after taking a sip of his cordial. "But I do have an idea. Take our goods for trade to Downel. Pick up wine there with our profits and sail to East Tookumberry—"

"East Tookumberry?" the marteness cut in, incredulous. "I am not trading with goodbeasts. Besides, the Navy has exclusive trading rights in return for protecting the silly woodlanders."

"They do?"

"Oh aye. Can't believe you haven't heard about that silly little monopoly. It should be illegal if you ask me. I never liked the smell of it when I was in the Navy, and now even less that I'm out and this place is being run by—" She stopped at a look of warning from Torrent. Sken looked about at the others in the tavern.

"Misanthropy," the marteness finished in a hissed whisper of disgust.

Torrent shrugged. "Well, if we can't go to Tookumberry, then we go to Merith Cove."

Sken shook her head. "They won't give a good price for Downel wine. And besides, I never said we can't go to Tookumberry."

"But then—"

"Think a bit more…creatively, my friend. Those woodlanders will give us a good price for the wine, and they also have an abundance of goods themselves."

Torrent looked confused. "You said we can't trade with them."

"Can't trade, aye. Raiding is a different matter altogether." Sken showed her teeth in a toothy grin. Torrent looked alarmed.

"The Navy protects them. We can't possibly…You're insane, you know that?"

The marteness shrugged and cocked her head to the side, pulling a silly face. "I've been called that so many times, I'm pretty sure it's true." She straightened her head and winked at the ferret. "But, insane or not, I haven't led you wrong yet, have I?"

The ferret looked thoughtfully into his glass. "Well, there was the time on the Skeered that you thought it'd be a good idea to teach me how to swim by dangling me off the deck by rope."

"You swam rather well, I thought," Sken said before taking another drink of ale.

"Only because I was being pursued by a school of sharks. My point is that, with Naval protection, these goodbeasts are untouchable."

Sken put her half-empty flagon down with a thump. She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. "How long did you serve in the Navy, Torrent. A year?"

"About that, yes."

"A year. So, on a scale of one to ten, with ten being very knowledgeable and one being as ignorant as a sack of gibbering molebabes, what would you consider your knowledge of the workings of the Imperial Navy?"

Torrent opened his mouth, then closed it, working his jaw in annoyance. Sken grinned.

"I'd put you at about a two, myself. Just above the molebabes, the cute things. What would you say for me, hmm? Ten? No, probably a nine. Things have changed a bit since my time in…service." She trailed off, looking into the depths of her ale for a moment. Sken saw the shadows of dark memories in the amber liquid, faces of beasts long gone. The memories were old. The pain of them, however, resurfaced with a dull ache like that in her side where she had been pierced by a poisoned dagger wielded by a beast who had once been a friend but was no longer called such.

"Marm," Torrent said quietly. "Come back to me."

Sken shuddered and sighed, shaking her head as she pushed the thoughts away. She tipped the ale to her mouth and downed the remainder. When she was finished, the sparkle had returned to her bright, blue eyes.
"What would I do without you, Torrent?"

The ferret shook his head. "I am naught but a friend looking out for my own."

"Either way, you're a good beast and more loyal than most." She paused and gave him a sincere smile. He returned it with a nod.

"Thank you."

A moment of silence passed between the two friends, not awkward, but rather a mutual understanding of the need for a pause in the conversation. Sken ran a paw through her messy headfur and continued.

"As I was saying, I know the ins and outs of what the Navy is doing down there. Even while I was in service, there were many holes in their so-called protection of the goodbeasts. With my knowledge of what's going on down there, as well as of Navy protocol, we can slip through the defenses and perform a very successful raid so long as we have a good crew. Which very nicely brings us back to our original purpose of this outing."

"You," Torrent said with a slight smile. "Are absolutely incorrigible."

"That's why you like me so much." Sken winked at the ferret. He sipped at his cordial before continuing.

"With the matter of our heading determined—if you can describe it as such—I suggest we first put an advert in the Smelt. We can also advertise verbally at the Navy and merchant docks and hand out information to anybeast interested."

"You go to the Navy docks. I don't want to run into any old acquaintances that might recognize me. Whether they're happy to see me or not, I really don't need any more mouths that could possibly tell the wrong beast who I am."

Torrent nodded. "A good point."

"Another place we could advertise would be in Market Square," Sken said. "Post fliers around and the like. That may be enough to draw in a good pool of beasts that we can test and choose from in the next few weeks before we launch the BlueRogue for her maiden voyage."

The ferret finished his cordial and pulled out his pocket watch. "Quarter to three. We had better get back to the ship. Tanya will be returning with Caden soon."

Sken stood and stretched. "Aye, and that little imp will want to have another lesson in swordsmanship, knowing him."

"Takes after his mother," Torrent said with a smile as he stood.

The marteness quirked an eyebrow. "A bit too much for my liking, sometimes."

They left the tavern and entered the street. A stiff breeze off the harbor blew away the usual stench of the offal that drifted lazily down the streetside gutters. Sken breathed deeply the briny smell of the sea air.

"Soon we'll be out there again, Torrent. Back to where we belong."