Author Note:
Waycaster: Indeed. Poor Tragg. :P Ah well, at least he's safe in Salamandastron!...for now. *Chuckles evilly*
The Grey Coincidence: Yep. Slowly but surely, all of the separate plotlines are gathering together. It'll be sad when I finally finish TGW, but hey, all things have an end. (Besides, there's always sequels and prequels! :P)
["Only time will tell... Coz you won't coz evil spoilers :P"] Pretty much. XD
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VERMIN CAMP
A corsair messenger came to Blue-Eyes' tent and told him that Baro wanted to see him.
As the weasel followed the messenger, his keen eyes immediately noticed that things weren't normal. Snowlanders and corsairs alike were whispering and murmuring to each other in low tones.
Something's up, Blue-Eyes thought. He instinctively rested his paw on his rapier hilt as he saw a group of vermin gathered, looking at something in the center of the camp.
Blue-Eyes followed his guide through the crowd, pushing the other creatures out of his way.
"Move over! Out of my way," he snapped, "What are you all gawking at anyway?"
He looked forward and caught sight of Baro. The weasel's eyes widened when he saw the emperor's towering companion.
By the fangs of King Leonard the Third! He thought, Now that's what I call a hulking brute!
Blue-Eyes had heard of wolves before, but he had never actually seen one. Trying to act unperturbed, the weasel walked forward.
"You wanted me, Baro?" Blue-Eyes swept his gaze at Bertvar and looked the wolf up and down. "How did you happen to stumble over such a lucky find?"
"I'm right here, you know," Bertvar said, grinning slightly, "I can hear you just fine."
"Allow me to introduce you to Bertvar the Slavemaster." Baro gestured to the wolf. "He and his band of mercenaries will help us take the mountain."
Bertvar nodded as everybeast in the crowd stared at him. "Indeed. The more the pay, the longer my slavers and I will stay."
"Oh I wouldn't trouble yourself over that," Baro smiled. "Once we take over Salamandastron, there will be enough gold for all!"
"So where exactly did you spring up from?" Blue-Eyes inquired, looking up at Bertvar. "It certainly is coincidental timing."
"Well, I had been escorting a large sum of slaves to the coast when we ran into some trouble with reptiles. In all of the confusion, the slaves got away."
"All of them?" Blue-Eyes raised an eyebrow. "Goodness. That must have been dreadful. Maybe next time you should keep a closer eye out, hmm? We wouldn't want you to make errors like that while you're enjoying your stay with us."
"Naturally." Bertvar stiffened momentarily at the weasel's implied message. "Don't worry. I never make the same mistake twice. But let me continue. After we lost – ahem, I mean, after the slaves escaped, we pursued them to the very base of Salamandastron."
"Well that wasn't very clever." Blue-Eyes pointed out. "You could've lost more than you would've gained in a venture like that."
Bertvar was beginning to have a strong dislike for the blue eyed weasel. However, he was used to dealing and masking his true feelings. He pressed on. "Yes. Anyway, long story short, we bumped into one of your scout captains and he said that he'd take us to Baro. And here we are." He finished with a note of finality. "But Baro told me had a plan of sort." He glanced to the wolverine. "Yes?"
Baro nodded. "Aye. Follow me. I'll show you the tool of destruction that will win us entry into the mountain."
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"Wait… That's your plan?"
Hookarm eyed the operation before him with a skeptic gaze.
Baro had led the group of vermin leaders to the outskirts of the camp, where he showed them what he and his paw-picked beasts had been assembling: A massive battering ram set on a platform. Or at least, that was what Baro told them. Currently, it consisted of massive piles of steel, lumber, and other materials.
"Why, it's not even built yet!" Hookarm exclaimed, folding his arms. "I thought ye said that this would ensure our victory?"
"One of the reasons why I have been holding back my force's full strength is because the weapon was having difficulties. However, after days of work, it's finally ready."
Blue-Eyes raised his eyebrow. "You could've fooled me. It looks pretty… unprepared, for lack of a better word."
"I think the word that ye're lookin' fer is a big ol' darn mess." Hookarm muttered.
Baro continued on, ignoring their comments. "I had the weapon put together a while ago and my engineers tested to see if it was all shipshape. One problem with war machines this size however, is that we'll have to take it apart if we want to move it around anyway far. I'll have my troops double their shifts and it should be in position by tomorrow morning."
"So what is it exactly?" Bertvar asked. "What does it do?"
"That, my friend, is what you shall see first thing tomorrow."
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SALAMANDASTRON
The sunset was always a beautiful sight to see from the mountain's crater. Nature, as always, was totally unaffected and continued on, regardless of the fact that Salamandastron was under siege.
Colonel Brewster had gone to admire the view before he turned in for the night when he saw Amber standing alone by the southern parapet.
The old hare officer went over and stood beside her.
"How's One-Ear doing?" Brewster asked her. "He looked like his leg was in a pretty rough shape when I saw him."
"Father's in the Infirmary," Amber replied, "The doctors said that the best thing for his leg is peace and quiet. They kicked me out, so I came up here."
"We're very bloomin' fortunate to have him back. Wot wot. The mountain needs bally brave beasts like him."
Amber gave a fond smile. "I know. I was so scared that father wasn't going to come back this time. I keep thinking that his leaving would get easier, but it doesn't. Whenever my friends or loved ones leave, I feel like… I just wish…" Amber straightened her shoulders and gave a sigh. "What do you think the chances are? For Charlie and Lagworth, I mean."
Brewster fixed his gaze on the shore below. His eyes filled with sadness as he thought of the likely fate of his son. "All I know is, if there is a way that I can free them, I'll do it, no matter the cost."
Amber followed his gaze. "Charlie is pretty jolly-well lucky that you're his father, Sah."
"Thank you, m'gal." The old hare smiled. The two of them looked down at the vermin torches on the shore in a companionable silence. Brewster let out a short cough. "It's getting late. You should probably go and get some rest. After all, you never know when you'll be able to get a solid night's sleep with this confounded siege."
The young cadet nodded. "I want to see if the healers will let me see Da. I don't care what they say, I'm his daughter. If I want to be by his side, then they can't stop me!"
"That's the spirit!" Brewster winked. "You tell those healers that I sent you. If they have any questions, tell them I'll be in my jolly old office. Eh, sound good? Wot wot."
Amber saluted. "Thanks, Sah! I will!" she called over her shoulder as she dashed off.
Brewster grinned to himself. Ah, young 'uns. So full of energy. It's hard to believe that I was like that once. Wait, what am I thinking? I'm not old! Scoffing, the old hare looked up at the stars.
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As night fell, the refugees were led to one of the massive dormitory rooms. Positioned close to the forges, it was one of the warmest rooms in the mountain.
Tragg's footpaw twitched as it slid out from the warmth of his blanket. Grumbling, he turned onto his side and tucked his footpaws in, his eye opening briefly as he did. He gasps softly as he saw a cloaked figure tip-pawing silently toward the door. The creature hesitated for a moment, then turned around and swept its gaze across the room, checking to see if anybeast was awake. .
Staying as still as possible, Tragg waited until the mysterious beast had turned away and, after opening the door with great care, crept out the room.
The moment it was out of sight, the young shrew sat up and went over to where Flugg slept.
"Wake up," he whispered, prodding his cousin until he responded.
"Mmff. What do ye want?" Flugg grumbled, obviously annoyed. "Can't a beast get any sleep around 'ere?"
"Somebeast is sneakin' around. It looks like a thief or somethin'," Tragg explained. "Come on. Let's go see what the beast wants, or at least see who it is."
"Then what are we waiting for?" Flugg got up and looked around. "Should we find a weapon?"
"It'd take too long! Besides, the creature didn't look any bigger 'n us."
Using all of the stealth they could muster, the two shrews crept over to the door – which was still open, thanks to whoever the other beast was – and went into the hallway.
"There," Flugg whispered, pointing ahead of them, "I see 'im. Let's grab 'im afore he hears us."
The cloaked creature was still tip-pawing forward when Tragg leapt forward and flung himself at the beast.
"Come on Flugg! Get 'im!"
"Get off me, you idiot!" The creature yelled, trying to push Tragg away. "It's me!"
Tragg instantly let go as he recognized the voice. "Tilda? Is that ye?"
Tilda huffed as she threw back her cape's hood. She bent down and snatched a small pouch that had fallen from the inside of her cloak during her and Tragg's brief scuffle.
"Er, uh," Tragg stuttered, "What are ye doing 'ere? And what's with th' bag?" – He gestured to the haversack she was holding.
"I could ask you the same thing," she replied, clutching tightly to her haversack.
"Hey," Flugg protested, "In our defense, we weren't the ones sneaking around in the dead of night, cloaked like some thief! How were we–"
He broke off as the faint sound of voices reached their ears.
"The guards must've heard us!" Tilda hissed as she began to run back down the hallway, "Quick, before they find us!"
"Who cares if they find us?" Tragg asked, running beside her.
"Yeah," Flugg added, "We weren't doing anything wrong. At least," he shot Tilda a sideways glance, "we weren't…"
They reached the door to their room and Tilda ushered them in.
"Come on," she said, "I'll explain later. Quick – Pretend like you were asleep!"
Tragg and Flugg hopped into their beds, diving under the covers. Tilda only just managed to scurry underneath Flugg's bed when the flickering light of a torch could be seen by the doorway.
A few moments later, a hare's head popped in and looked around. A few of the other woodlanders, woken by the guard's light, glanced up with weary glances.
"What do you want?" an ancient-looking female vole snapped, squinting her eyes. "Is the mountain under attack, or something?"
"Er, sorry marm…" The hare shuffled back a few steps. "You didn't happen to see any beasts run in here did you? Wot wot."
The vole gave him a withering glare. "No. After all, I was sleeping soundly until you barged in with that torch of yours."
"Ah. Point taken, marm. Ahem, well, let us know if you see anything suspicious. Wot wot."
The hare left the room and closed the door behind him. From where he was, Tragg could hear the guard talking with his comrades, then, after a brief conference, the voices were silent and it sounded like the hares had left.
After waiting until the rest of the awakened refugees had gone back to sleep, Tragg muttered under his breath to Tilda.
"Care tae explain what all this is about, Tilda?" he asked.
The female shrew crawled out from her hiding place, keeping her movements as silent as she could so that hopefully none of the other woodlanders would wake up.
"I…uh…" She paused. Then let out a sigh. "Alright. I guess you both deserve to know the truth."
"Well, isn't that might decent o' ye," Flugg scowled. "Ye know, I thought we were friends. Friends don't keep secrets from each other, or sneak off in th' middle o' th' night alone."
"I was leaving Salamandastron," she explained simply. "I couldn't stay anymore. I have unfinished business elsewhere. The only reason I never left before was because I wanted to make sure you two, and all the other slaves, were safe first."
Flugg and Tragg shot each other confused glances in the darkness.
"Wait…" Tragg scratched his head. "What? This doesn't make any sense. Ye couldn't 'ave left before, even if ye wanted tae. We were prisoners on a boat, remember? Did ye hope tae somehow just magically untie your ropes an' fly away or somethin'?"
A hint of a smile touched the corners of Tilda's mouth. "No. Nothing like that. But believe me, I was only sticking around because I wanted to. There's more ways to escape then flying off like a bird, you know."
"Hold on a moment…" Flugg's face lightened up. "Is that why you suddenly happened tae have a dagger when we were fightin' wit' th' toads? Ye had it all along, didn't ye? Why didn't ye tell us? We could've escaped together!"
"Well, the thing is," Tilda hesitated. "…I sorta made a promise." She held up a paw, forestalling any further questions from the other two shrews. "Just listen and I'll tell you. But remember," She wagged her fist threateningly, "I've never told anybeast this before. If you ever so much as breath a single word about what I'm going to tell you…"
"Don't worry," Tragg replied instantly, "We won't say anything."
"Okay then. So, my family lived in a small cottage just north of the mountains. Da was never home much, he was always away trying to find work, so it was mainly only me, Ma, and my two brothers at the house." Her eyes closed. "I'll never forget the day that Bertvar's goons came. Dirty, lying, murdering scum. Two of them came to our house, begging for us to help and let them in. Ma was a kind hearted soul, always wanting to see the good in everybeast."
Tilda's voice was bitter. "So she let them in, and those…those vermin killed her for her kindness. When they had attacked my brother, she just managed to cut the big one across the side of his face, and he got mad – Real mad. Once they were done with her, they…they…" Her voice trailed off.
"Ye don't have tae tell us if ye don't want tae," Tragg said. "We know how ye feel. We lost loved ones tae vermin too."
Tilda rubbed a paw across her face. "Thanks. I won't go into the details but I'll say this: they had no right to kill them the way they did. Nobeast deserved to die like that."
"How did ye survive?" Flugg asked.
"I hid in a pile of old laundry. I was too frightened to even move. I'll never forgive myself for not doing something to help." She sighed. "Once they were gone, I crawled out and cried, begging for Ma to wake back up." Her voice turned grim as she went on. "That's when I vowed that I would find those two vermin and kill them no matter what it took. I'd heard them talking to each other and I learned their names: Grunner and Barktail. I had tried following their tracks, but ended up getting lost and knocking my head on a branch or something. When I woke up, I was in an old ferret's cave. Apparently he found me and decided to bring me to his home."
"Thank goodness ye met him when ye did" Tragg nodded and smiled.
"I guess he thought of me as the child he had never had. You know, I never thought I'd trust a vermin again after what had happened, but he was different. He fed me, gave me a place to stay, and more importantly, trained me in the art of an assassin. Poisons, knife-throwing, stealth, tracking, everything that I needed to know. And then one day, he was gone."
"Gone?" Tragg and Flugg echoed.
She nodded. "Aye. I remember waking up and he had left. I looked for him, but couldn't find any tracks at all." She smiled. "It was obvious that no matter how much I thought I had learned in the art of tracking and stealth, he was the master."
"What did ye do then?" Tragg scratched his head. "Leave tae avenge your family?" he guessed.
She dipped her head. "It took a while, but long story short, I found out that the two vermin had joined a bigger band led by Bertvar the Slavemaster. I let some of his scouts capture me and, after they had brought me to the camp as a slave, I managed to find out where the beasts I was looking for were."
The other two shrews leaned forward as she went on.
"I was waiting for the right moment to kill either one when Bertvar suddenly decided to ship the slaves out to Terramort. And that's when I disguised myself as one of the simple slaves and I bumped into you two." She couldn't help but grin as she added, "Literally, at least in Flugg's case."
Tragg sat back. This was a lot for him to take in. He glanced over at Flugg and saw that he was also trying to process everything.
Noting their silence, Tilda shrugged. "Well, that's my sad little story. Though, it sounds like you both have had your own share of those. I trust that you understand now why I can't stay. I'd like to, but I have to fulfill my oath."
"But ye can't jus' leave!" Flugg protested.
"I have to. I'd be breaking my word."
"How do ye even plan on gettin' out? We're surrounded by vermin!"
"I could slip through their lines easily." Tilda grinned wryly. "It's not like it should be too hard. We seemed to have gotten in without too much trouble."
"That's different! Some o' the hares were saying that the vermin had doubled the guards 'n' tightened their defenses!"
"Ye should at least wait until the vermin horde is dealt wit'," Tragg added. He looked into Tilda's eyes. "If ye wait a bit longer, then we could go wit' ye!"
Tilda looked slightly surprised. "Really?" She glanced at the two shrews, who nodded their heads.
"Aye!"
"Ye bet we would! After all, what are friends for?"
Tilda glanced to the door, then back at Tragg and Flugg, the hesitation plain on her face. "What if Bertvar leads his goons back north?"
"Then we'll track them down together," Tragg replied.
"Hmm… Could you give me a bit of time to decide? I'd like to sleep on this."
"Okay. We understand."
"Well then. Goodnight."
Tilda waved to both of them, then crawled into the darkness back to her bed.
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As midnight came, foreboding black clouds gathered in the night sky, and the sounds of deep thunder rumbled ominously.
On the shore in front of Salamandastron's gates, Baro Steelclaws stood impassively, watching as his vermin, along with a crew of slaves from the corsair ships, prepared his weapon.
"Sleep tight, woodlanders," the wolverine murmured. "Baro is coming."
