Chapter 23: The Skirmish
Galgor did not sleep soundly, his dream filled with an increasingly terrifying nightmare. It had been the same since he came to Green Isle, a figure draped in red stood before him, unknowable and unspeakable, sat like a wall to visions that had once been as clear as day. He felt like something bit at him, shackling his mind to keep his focus on the evil being which tormented him. It sat upon a dark and massive throne, peering out and mocked him. Galgor tried to reach through this enemy, but wire wrapped around him and held him in place. It reached out with its boney paws, as if patting Galgor's head in some mocking tone before the badger lord was pulled backward, ever increasingly until the vision was but a shadow. The memory pierced Galgor's mind, as he shook and shaken. The badger lord pounded at something with his foot, breaking apart the guest bed in Green Isle's royale keep which clattered loudly upon the floor. Noises and concerned squeaks were heard as several sea otter attendants and the sea otter king came in, seeing what was done.
Galgor felt embarrassed as he got up a bit groggily as Sarlo looked over the bed "Well, well, well. Didn't know ya would be this much trouble in a bed, lad. Ya okay?"
"I will. . .be fine." Galgor sighed. He looked out the window of the keep, it wasn't even morning yet, but he began putting on his armor and clothes once again. Sarlo looked him over, his critical attitude did not give much sympathy.
"Well, don't bother pretenden yer fine, lad. Pa always told me you folk have dreams an' visions. Does that happen often?"
"No." Galgor said truthfully, he looked rather fearful, his usually grim and serious disposition partly shattered "In fact, this is new, but it is not something I have not known before. Usually, such knowledge just comes to me, or I read upon it in the sacred chambers of Salamandastron. Yet, now I can do nothing but feel helpless, a feeling which I will admit Sarlo disturbs me greatly. Its as if my very wisdom leaves me."
"Well no doubt, heh." Sarlo mocked. He snapped at the servants, as they left. The sea otter king looked over the destroyed bed and grunted "Maybe next time we will. . .order a stronger bed."
"Sarlo, I must ask. Do you have confidence that we can defeat this threat?" Galgor asked, putting his chainmail over his head. Sarlo grinned "No doubt, especially if what we saw duren dat raid was what they plan on bringun. We ambushed em' all too well, an' lost fewer still. Utterly decimated dem we did."
"What if they have a larger army? What if they bring those armies to your shores instead?"
"I'd like to see em' try. We got forts an' towers along the beaches fer miles, an' they'd sooner starve den we will. Our navy is also still fair an' competent, led by me eldest. The attack will come to Mossflower, but do cheer up, once I figure out me problems at home, we'll be burnen down dat infernal wretch's home by the time yer hares clean it all up. Yer work will be cut out fer ya, badger lord, but ya are a veteran king an' warrior. De's idiots be nothing but overly dressed bandits pretenden to be an army."
"I hope so." Galgor sniffed, putting his great warhammer to his back. "When we meet again, Sarlo, I do hope we will still be friends."
Sarlo gave a weaker smile, although the cheery, half-insane, and crippled sea otter confidently spoke up "Me mate, we were always friends. Now, just to get ya home an' comfy! Trust me, it'll all work out."
There was panic, as two mice sailors were desperately unfurling there on the western sea. It was a clear and sunny day out as the mice yelled and spoke to one another. They were a merchant vessel from southern Mossflower, heading outward towards a hedgehog isle, baring spices from Southward and copper ingots. The vessel was fair sized, the merchant ship veered and lumbered awkwardly on the open water. The mouse captain looked back, seeing two larger vessels catching up, with another trudging behind at a brisk pace. One was a massive black carrack, and the other was far more familiar. The infamous war galley of The Holy Reckoning was upon them, its oars went deep into the water as it continued to pull forward at an unholy pace. The mouse captain called to his sailors "Drop the cargo into the ocean! We need to pick up speed before the vermin ram us!"
The menacing ship pulled ever forward, as the mice began to bring up the ingots first and began to drop them over the side of the ship. The speed was not enough, as the mice struggled to throw their cargo slowly over the ship. Instead of ramming the ship, the massive galley pulled up to the side of the mouse vessel as the captain figured that they would unload an unholy cadre of corsairs onto his deck. Picking up a dagger, the mice prepared for the worse.
A large ramp with iron hooks was latched onto the side of the ship. The mice prepared, some even praying for protection. A large figure, a wild cat with green eyes approached, his great green cape flowing in the wind. He began to speak in a dramatic and loud tone "I am Tarlo Greeneyes, Prince of the Green Eyed Horde, Son of the Emperor of Sandbeach! He who is lord of all Vermin, Master of all sl-" Tarlo didn't finish his sentence, as he stepped and fell face flat onto the ground in front of the mice.
If there was a tense standoff in the air, the mice certainly felt it had flown away. The wild cat's dramatic and menacing demeanor swiftly left him as he casually stood back up and began to dust himself off. "Hold on a moment." He begged as he got back up onto the boarding ramp. The mice looked to their captain, wondering what they could do, but the mouse didn't honestly know.
Tarlo made his way down towards the ship, and reappeared again in a dramatic fashion, although this time followed by Barbo Senger who was trying to hold back a laugh. The vicious, feared, and hated corsair made his way onto the mouse ship and casually planted himself between the mouse captain and the others. "Alright, do it again, my boy. Try to mind the step."
Tarlo coughed and began again, valiantly shifting his paws to his hips "Behold! I am-"
"Oh, Tarlo Greeneyes!" Barbo grasped his face "What did I say about using the word 'behold'! Look at these fearful creatures! They already see you, frightened as they are, they know why you come, no reason to give such a word."
"Oh. Sorry Barbo."
The mouse captain was unsure of what to do, either to stab the stout, or something else. The other mice looked frightened, but Barbo seemed to ignore them and came over to Tarlo. "I suppose we shall have to do it again, although this ship isn't worth much of our time. Come, my boy, I will make you well versed in the art of raiding yet! With a style and wit to add to your own good name!" The wild cat followed the infamous corsair down meekly as the ships disengaged.
The mouse captain and his crew looked at one another, and headed towards Mossflower's shore, all in agreement that their merchant ventures were not worth the terror of the pirate infested oceans.
_
The differences between Sagan and Barbo's ship and how they ran their crews to Tarlo Greeneyes was as different as night and day. Tarlo's first night aboard the Holy Reckoning was one of tact and culture, as Barbo personally introduced his crew one by one to Tarlo. The stout tended to like to rhyme, as if he was being constantly watched in a play. Each lizard was then introduced next, as Barbo named off each of their roles, their positions, and even their favorite foods. What Tarlo was even more surprised by was when he was guided down into the miserable gallery of the galley slaves where Barbo would do the same thing. Barbo bounded around, cheerfully patting the backs of the slaves who winced in pain as Barbo touched the fresh whip wounds on their back. Tarlo found it rather humorous, but of those who found it monstrous was Morland and Grof.
Morland was still 'helping' as a rower on Barbo's ship, already missing Sagan's pirate vessel by a great deal. The sea otter couldn't help but be depressed and mortified being amongst his own, many of them prestigious captains and even heroes now all chained beneath Barbo's vessel. Morland was the proveryer of the only news from Green Isle and her colonies, having to inform a good number of them through whispers that many thought them dead. Grof on the other hand was nearby, having become quickly bored of the corsairs and remaining in the gallery with Morland. The two had been mostly whispering under their breaths when Barbo and Tarlo arrived, but seeing the stout captain whirl around, introducing each member by name had an effect on both of them. Degenerate. This was the only thing Grof thought of Barbo as he cruelly finished up his many introductions.
". . .and this is Gravewater, my whipmaster of my ship, a dear friend of mine and a younger addition to my crew. Likes apples, but has a fair taste for caramel, which is always most difficult to provide even for a creature such as myself. Now, all of you, do say hello to Tarlo Greeneyes, our benefactor of this wonderful trip."
Fearfully, the entire gallery said hello. Tarlo was rather impressed by Barbo as much as Barbo was impressed by him. The wild cat never knew a creature, even his own brother, bothered to learn the names of each member of his crew and slaves alike. Tarlo asked a prudent question as they returned to the deck "Barbo, why do you bother to even learn the names of your rowers?"
"A habit of mine, mostly. You see, my good Tarlo, when it comes to my legacy, I want all of Green Isle to know full well what I can and will do to them. You see, on one paw, I am merciful for letting their best and brightest live. On the other paw, I am being cruel for letting their best and brightest live as my rowers. I see it as a win-win, for they won't attack my vessel knowing that if they sink it, they will lose a lot of sons, daughters, and prestigious members."
"I suppose, but do they not hunt you viciously as a result?"
"Oh, they try, but they never did find my island. I came very close to even capturing their king once, quite a tale in itself. Sarlo Wildlough, quite a character he is, I would love to add him and his brood to become rowers of my galley. It would be quite a most ironic fate since the last time me and him fought, screaming about how he would behead me. Quite barbarous I must say. I only see it fair that I spare him the indignity of death." Barbo gave a cruel smile as he walked on his ship. Tarlo followed, as Barbo drew in the fresh sea air.
"You see Barbo, have you ever thought much about the days when you pass on, and the wonders of this world yet unseen will pass over you like a mist? A silken blanket in the wind?"
Tarlo cringed a bit "Ummm. . .Uhh, whatever do you mean?"
Barbo grunted "We must work on your prose and culture, good wild cat. An emperor's son should not be so undesired to the tastes of good words and long sentences. Do tell me, what do you think happens when you. . .well, to put it bluntly, die?"
"I suppose when I die, my line will pass to a son or daughter I have with my dearest Gana. Father says when we pass, our tales and achievements will be written down, and all of our family will know of our deeds, which is why we must be alwa-"
"Boring! Oh Tarlo! That is most boring. Histories and other such things? Where is the adventure, the glory? You see Tarlo, when I grew up in the west, your people were quite well entombed in their books and philosophies, but focused so much on the life after death that I soon grew bored of all those small indignities of learning about others. You see, I want the true form of immortality to be a part of a grander tale, for those from Green Isle to the southern tips of every continent to know the name of Barbo with both fear and reverence. Who would willingly want to read a book of history, a defilement upon my deeds, when they can tell tales to their children, and children's children. My dear Tarlo, you are a decent creature, but do not soil yourself to such a low as honest story telling."
Tarlo held a paw to his chin, unsure of what to think of the stout's strange behavior or view on life. For a beast so intent on improving his own image, he certainly has an odd view of things. Tarlo then tried to give a stout a piece of his own wisdom in turn.
"I do not think one's image is the only thing one should worry about, my friend. Surely you can agree that all the things built and otherwise come from decent empire building and civilization to tell those stories to start with."
"My good Tarlo, the story is more important, for it is our world which is built on those stories. This ship. Do you know it's history? Or mine for that matter? Truly, the otters of Green Isle tell tales of who I am, where I come from, but do not know me in person. . .well, except for those below us of course. Do you know who used to rule the seas before us? Ulbaz 'Mad Eyes' they called him. Have you ever heard of the pirate king Gabool the Wild? Their tales and legends are immortalized and profaned in the books of woodlanders, their cruelties all too well known, back seated to their murderers who threw down their legends. Yet, you do not hear of who they were before, for it is sung only in meager tales and the memories of sea vermin. While those on the mainland may write about the truth of their deeds and celebrate the slaying of them, their true memory lives on only in the song and stories told by wayward travelers. True immortality, a desire I one day wish to achieve."
It was quite a fanciful speech, and it left the wild cat wondering to himself. Barbo turned and smiled at him "My good friend, I must show you how to truly become a legend, the old fashioned way. For when we go into battle, defeating the badger lord and taking his ship for our good friend Sagan, we must be well honed and skilled. We always want to make a good first impression."
"I suppose, but I honestly have no clue where to start."
"My good friend, we are corsairs, and this is a busy sea, we will have plenty to start with."
The hares in port Rigbane were packing up their things, although many were not in a good mood about it. Besides a mishap with their rations which had happened in the early morning, which always soured the mood of the normally jovial elite cadre of woodlander warriors, there were other issues abound. Doufy von Evergreen had returned with Cemar, the two friends were silent to one another as each noticed there were now two very firm groups of foreign hares which did not intermingle well with one another. Some of the hares looked to Cemar like he was a foreign and evil vermin, but dared not try to bully him with Doufy watching. However, what perhaps disturbed Doufy was an increasing number of hares who would come up to Cemar, giving him words of encouragement and support, some taking to his hard action as inspiring.
Doufy and Cemar both were soon re-entering the command post, the hares packing up and the sea otter merchants they had kicked out previously coming back in. Cemar spoke slowly to his friend, who grimly looked about "Always one to set up a command post first an' foremost, Doufy. Bloody predictable, I'd sugg-"
"You can help by packing up that stack of maps." Doufy said coldly, not bothering to look him in the eyes. Doufy shuffled up a heavier box of booze, his favorite brand which clinked as he picked it up. Cemar could see something was wrong, but he knew full well what was wrong. My friend, I just wish you would open your bloody eyes already. Both hares packed thing up, but as soon as they exited, they could see their respective commanders tearing into one another.
Hares were an overly polite bunch, but even the wayward otter prince Gorgland and the hare admiral Adam could not help feel overly awkward as they stood between Biggum and Barfoof. If there was a distaste between each other before, it was now full blown hostility now.
"You will do no such thing, you and your subordinates will be coming onto the Mountain of the Sea and that is final! Barfoof, I do not know what has come over you and your hares, but you should count yourself lucky that I do not have you court martialed, which I may just bloody well do! You incompetent, barely groomed, fool!"
"I will not stand for you or your hares one second longer, Biggum! My crucial ploy saved a lot of damn lives! If you had been quick to the draw, perhaps that bloody fool wouldn't have even escaped at all!"
"Oh don't get me started, Barfoof. Had you not convinced Adam's subordinates of your insane plan, we would have had that entire rotten lot dead or in custody!"
Gorgland may have kept between the two hares, but he looked desperately to Adam who had no comforting thing he could possibly do. Adam tried to calm the two hares down "Gentle beasts, please, I beg of you both to reconsider all this. Wrongs have been made on both sides here today."
"Both? Adam, it was your bloody subordinates who allowed this to begin with. Perhaps I should also take up Salgor's suggestions when it comes to crucial inspection of you and your subordinates."
"Do not think I have forgotten you, Adam. We wouldn't be in this bloody mess to start with if we didn't stand and fight on Black Beach!"
Adam fumbled his words and then kept his mouth shut, allowing the two hares to trade skirmishes against one another. Neither Doufy or Cemar intervened, but both gave each other a difficult look. Both silently agreed to not intervene, and both silently went back to the ship. At least we got cards Doufy thought.
_
As the whole of the hare army was packing up onto their ships, some still admired the sea otter repairs, designs, and speed for which they worked. Most of the repair crews had become experienced due to the sheer need to arm their galleys, especially against a constant threat from the sea. Gorgland also had a lot of things to admire about the hare ship and the large shrew galley docked in its port. Gorgland was about to enter his own ship, The Green Gaze, a fast and nimble sea otter war galley. It was Gorgland's favorite ship, and was one for which he prided himself in commanding. As he got up on its ramp, surrounded by his crew of marines and sailors, he heard a voice call out to him. "Wait! Wait for me!"
The ever so familiar voice filled the elder prince with dread as he turned to see his brother Canton Wildlough approaching. Gorgland dismissed his crew and approached his brother, breathing through his nose with some distaste. Canton was in a gilded armor, it was silvery and encrusted with some old warrior markings. However, it wasn't armor, it was ceremonial.
"Brother! Brother! Glad I could make it, when I heard you going off, I just wanted to see if I coul-"
"You are not coming, not even on a routine mission such as this." Gorgland said coldly.
"But Gorgland! I've been trapped on Green Isle for years! I want to be on the open ocean again, fighting pirates like you and pa did. If I sit through another court session, I'll die. Die of boredom."
Gorgland usually tried to comfort his younger brother but instead gave him an annoyed sneer, which frightened the younger prince a little "Enough of that. You are not ready."
"But brother, I got my armor, my blade, I got ever-"
Gorgland pushed into his brother and took out his blade to inspect it, and sighed when he predicted correctly it was the ornate silver blade also used for ceremonial purposes. Gorgland put it back into Canton's sheath "Yer gonna get yourself killed or worse, Canton. You ask me to bring you along when you got nothing but a useless blade and useless armor. Now get back to Pa, and do so quickly."
Canton sighed as his brother entered the ship without him, the ramp swiftly being brought up as the sea otters began to row out into their harbor. As the expedition of hares and the badger lord began to sail our, Canton watched in jealousy of his brother. A thought formed in his head as he spied one docked ship nearby, a smaller sea otter patrol vessel which was still seaworthy and its younger crew. He swaggered on over to it, his anger at his brother overcoming his own wisdom.
The Mountain of the Sea did not glide over water, it smashed through it, its massive size and hull was impressive to behold. The calm western sea broke way to light waves as the five Long Patrol vessels were joined by two Green Isle war galleys, guiding them back to their mountain. It was the 2nd day thus far, although the slow moving procession could very well take a month just to reach back towards the shores of Mossflower. Adam surveyed the open ocean, the ships of his fleet were in his usual defensive line. The Mountain of the Sea was in the middle of the fleet, with Shren's The Battle Log rowing to the left of the ship. The Shepdog guarded over the Bloodriver and the Coralscrub to the right, the two transport vessels kept close to the smaller carrack which jutted along next to it's masterful command vessel. The sea otter galleys took a fairly distant approach, with both vessels being farther out with one on the right and left, with the prince's vessel keeping mostly to the left of the ship. Adam found this tactic rather strange, but he figured it had something to do with scouting.
Vermin sea raiders, pirates, and corsairs often relied on sudden and swift attacks, their main weapon was not the ships, but the fear they could cause in swift succession. Numbers was a new tactic that Adam bore witness to, but pirates fared poorly against disciplined war ships. However, they were still much a threat, and with decent numbers could easily overcome even experienced fighters like the Green Isle otters. In such a large formation, the sea otter vessels could easily disengage one of the most severe advantages of the vermin sea scum; their element of surprise. It was a risky tactic, Adam had to admit. If one of the ships was ambushed on the open sea, it would not have enough support to save it, but it would alarm other ships of the pirate's presence and allow a swift call to action.
Galgor and his sons were meandering on the ship, a rare sight of them not arguing, and Adam was pleased. He stood at the far end of the ship, looking out over the sea with his paws behind his back. It was a stoic position he took when he needed to think. As Adam stood, watching the waves roll on by, he was again approached by Biggum who seemed to get more used to the sea air. "Do tell me, Adam, when will we reach home, wot?"
"Weeks, my good general. Weeks. I do say it was rather unknown to me as to why you would allow Barfoof back on my ship. I can stand the badger lord's sons wanting to rip each other's throats out, but hares? Nothing but mean word and ill intent all around."
Biggum sighed "Quicker I get back to the mountain, the better Adam. This whole thing has become intolerable. Perhaps it was that tolerance that allowed this. . .factionalism to spread as it did."
"Sir, it would have spread with or without Barfoof." Adam glanced at his superior "The war with Kasg was difficult for us all, and no one was happy with the result even when we won."
"I should bloody well know." Biggum was not nostalgic for the days when Kasg roamed down from his dark kingdom to cast his black shadow across Mossflower, memories of his black clad horde suppressed any good notes and feelings Biggum would have had. "Many hares died in that war, too many in fact."
"One too many." Adam snidely commented "We all heard of the reports, listened to the accounts of survivors. If we were smart in those years, we would have sent expeditions against him while he was still a young threat."
"Don't chastise me for that, Adam." Biggum grunted in annoyance "No one could have foreseen the kind of threat he was."
"Yet here we are, Biggum. We need change, Barfoof can see it, I am just wondering why you do not?"
"Change is a stupid word to describe what Barfoof, or apparently you, seem to think we need. Our way of life, our codes and conduct, have gotten use through Kasg as it got us through every threat upon Mossflower. Everything from the wild cats to the Rapscallions. The change you would want is an eternal war, without any true end, sending out bravest and brightest to die in some frigid wasteland to bully and berate a people who would sooner kill us then speak to us. I will not be the one to enact conscription for villagers who have no interest in war, or to hear the wails of their mothers when their youngest return in coffins. Do you truly want that, Adam?"
"It would have been better then having to see a lot of good friends and comrades buried in our 'glorious' halls, sir."
Biggum scoffed and went back to his own duties, leaving Adam peacefully looking back out over the ocean. The admiral sighed deeply, already missing the days when his fellow Hares were more united. If Kasg had not succeeded in life to break the will of the Long Patrol, he has certainly done so in death.
_
The day was still young when Gorgland awoke on the Green Gaze, the Wildlough prince clumsily yawned and got out of his bed of his cabin. It was about a couple days still at sea, and they were farther from home than usual. He was sitting down at his desk, playing with some crumbs from his previous night's meal, when he heard a frantic knock on the door. He called out lazily "Come on in, lad." The door swiftly opened, and Gorgland regretted his words, for it wasn't a lad but a lass. The sea otter maiden was his lookout and quickly saluted him. She was young for a lookout, which wasn't a big surprise due to his father's conscription. The sea otter quickly spilled her beans "Sir, it is Adam's ship, their signaler says a ship approaches, from their starboard."
"Is it a pirate vessel?" Gorgland snapped to attention. The signaler looked unsure, but spoke truthfully "No, the hares say it's a friendly vessel. I tried to see if I could get a better look, but it was too distant. Tall enough to be a carrack at least, a war ship."
Gorgland was put a bit at ease but quickly put on some quick clothes. "Follow." He ordered. The sea otter prince walked out onto the deck, looking about as he ordered his ship to break their formation and to move towards the farther end of the ship flotilla. The sea otter war galley rowed along to the beat of a light and humble drum, but as the ship moved closer, the signaler who was at Gorgland's side looked up at the hare ship.
"Sir, the signaler is missing on the Mountain of the Sea, I think they are all looking over the side."
"Whatever this mysterious ship is must have everyone curious. That's usually good news."
Gorgland was then interrupted by another otter, a marine and scout. He nudged Gorgland over to the side "Sir, another sea galley is upon us, from the farther off stern. It's gaining speed." He pointed to a smaller war galley off in the distance. Gorgland was confused, unsure of what to think as the smaller ship was sporadically picking up pace. Odd, I didn't send for reinforcements.
As Gorgland's ship cut between the main ships, he could see his fellow galley in the far off distance, but it was turning around as best it could. Gorgland came forward on his ship, seeing two large vessels off in the distance. One was clearly a hare ship, but the other looked like a large galley.
It was in that moment, Gorgland's eyes widened as he called out "Beat the drums! We need to row outward! Signal the hares! That isn't a friendly vessel. That is Barbo Senger's ship! Beat the drums!"
The drums of war began to beat on the war galley as the towers went to work. The marines drew weapons as Gorgland went into his cabin and drew out his favorite hatchet and shield. Putting on his armor swiftly, the signaler outside called to him "Sir! The hares want to know what to do!"
Gorgland did not answer and nearly tripped coming out onto the deck. The danger of Barbo was an all too real threat to him. He called out "Have the hares detach their own war galley, they will want to board any of the ships! We cannot give them the chance. We need to get to our own before we smash into it!"
Gorgland looked out at the approaching ships, the waves of the sea slowly dying down to give way to yelps and battle drums.
_
"Sir, I can hear drums."
Canton Wildlough was at the edge of his 'new' ship, the wayward crew of mostly younger sailors and marines he had conscripted by his royal authority were undisciplined and ignorant, as they all held close together, their snouts looked out over the deck as they watched from afar. The Green Gaze was rowing fast to relieve its lesser scouting ship as the hare ships were slow to maneuver into a battle line. To Canton, only two ships from afar were approaching. However, the size of one certainly put fear into him. The Holy Reckoning was not making an approach, but it looked like it was slowing down as if it wasn't interested in the prey it had just come across.
Canton turned to his crew of hapless fellows, who stood in silence and unsure of what to do. The traditional captain of the ship looked desperately to his prince, wondering what the Wildlough would say or do. Canton looked about, with an increasing anger and frustration to his facial features. "Well? What are you all standing around for! My brother is calling us all to arms, and you lot are looking like a bunch of new born pups! Rowers! Get to your oars! Marines, get ready for boarding! Ummm. . ."
Canton came close to the captain, unsure if his speech roused the otters, his voice cracked and looked unsure of what else to say. The captain filled in for Canton "Well, you heard your prince, the Wildloughs are going to war! I want to hear some drums! Eeeeeeee Aye Eeeeee!"
Canton smiled as the ship pulled forward, worry and sweat pierced the sea otter prince's brow as the ship pulled ever forward towards The Green Gaze to aid them. Canton had never felt such a rush, he wondered why his brother had denied him such joys. The ship pulled ever forward, and ever closer as the tides of darkness creeped ever closer
Barbo and Tarlo stood at the end of the Holy Reckoning, their long journey had hit quite a snag. What seemed to be a lone ship soon turned into a large flotilla which Barbo admittingly over estimated as just a larger merchant fleet. Barbo was at once excited to show Tarlo yet another trick he learned at sea, his fearsome reputation he wanted to show off. He did not expect to see the Mountain of the Sea near such a flotilla, let alone several otter war galleys, one which was approaching. The woodlander forces were setting themselves into comfy formations, but neither Barbo's ship nor Sagan's black vessel moved, and simply trodden along with wonder upon the open waves. Tarlo looked out, a bit worried as he bit his lip.
"I had hoped my brother would at least sink one of the vessels, if they have left so soon, then something has happened. I thought we had a lot more time."
"Apparently not. However, this is a fairly even battle if we decide to engage it."
Tarlo looked to Barbo, shocked "Engage?! Those are not small time merchant vessels, those are war ships. With good crews and expert marines most likely. Do not mistake my caution for cowardice, but this does seem to be beyond us."
Barbo laughed "I've done worse, my good Tarlo. Although, this is Sagan's operation an-"
Barbo was interrupted by his signaler who tapped his shoulder. Barbo turned to him as the corsair spoke meekly "Barbo, Sagan wants to know our orders. Do we engage?"
Barbo was stunned for a moment, and turned to Tarlo. Tarlo gripped his trident awkwardly as the elder and strange corsair seemed to goad him with a smile "My good Tarlo, this would be a great opportunity for a proper introduction. Trust in us, experts of our trade, to see this through. Shall we engage, on your order?"
Tarlo felt a surge of confidence, seeing into the stout's general smiling attitude and partial madness of even the possibility of engagement. Intrigue and curiosity overcame the wild cat, but Barbo had not led him astray thus far. Tarlo turned to the corsairs, and smiled broadly to them. "We didn't come this far just to watch and sneer at them, have we? Alright, let's cut them to shreds!"
There was an awkward groan from the pirates which made the wild cat cringe and frown, as Barbo gripped his shoulders "My boy, we really do need to work on that tongue of yours."
Barbo turned to his crew and resounded with them his own speech, more prepared and brutal. "This will be a tough fight, my good beasts, but I have not led you astray thus far. We have fought, bled, and died many times over for the loot we got, and to the glory we receive in life and in death. Today, I ask of you to fight to your most bitter yet! We fight not only the badger lord himself, but his cadre of hares and other precious work beasts for which we will overcome with our wit and our might! Sound our drums in turn! Whip the oars beasts, and ready your hooks! Today we make even the mountains tremble with our coming!"
There were sudden yelps of victory as the pirates made ready, some taking out oars from the upper deck to aid their oar slaves below to hold power their ship. The elite marines stood ready, grabbing their hooks with long ropes. Barbo slowly approached the captain's side of his ship, ordering his signaler to tell Sagan to engage. The drummer on deck sounded a tune of death from a western land, and the whipmaster below ordered the oar beasts to heave.
Tarlo stood ready, worry was on his face as the Mountain of the Sea began to get into a defensive position behind its other support vessels, facing them from the front. Tarlo gulped in anticipation, while also trying to think of what he would say to the badger lord once he met him face to face.
_
Sagan was informed of the engagement as the Holy Reckoning pulled ever forward at a pace, veering off to the side. While Barbo's daughter was farther off behind, there would be no reinforcements. Barbo's ship crew ever farther as Sagan called out to his crew who were busily doing what they could below "Alright me laddies, this is the big one! I want the deck of our new ship clean of hare filth when we gets it!" Sagan laughed, turning his wheel. His first mate Brea was readying her own pirate marines on the deck, climbing the masts and attacking their boarding ropes. It was going to be a difficult fight, but Sagan's eyes looked to the Mountain of the Sea with increasing envy. Ah, the prettiest and most damned ship in the whole of the western sea, and soon she will be mine. I gotta save a couple of hares to add to me crew so I can fix her up, eh? Sagan pulled the Black Sea Plow to right, circling around towards other ships. Sagan kept a close eye on Barbo's ship, for which a lot of their tactics in engaging the flotilla depended quite heavily on what they could see.
To any normal pirate, what the two pirate legends would have been doing was mad, but Sagan and Barbo had their secrets. They knew their enemy quite well, and knew the speed of the hare vessels and their crews. Sagan could spot the biggest danger nearby, Shren's Battle Log which kept a close proximity to the Mountain of the Sea. Speed would be important, and if not handled correctly, a lot could end in disaster. Barbo and Sagan were bold in different ways, stupid in others. As Sagan's ship pulled menacingly to the far right, it then veered towards the three smaller vessels to the Mountain of the Sea's side. Sagan smiled, his dark desire was right in front of him.
Galgor and his sons could not believe what they were seeing at first, as the sea otter galley which was retreating to them was being hounded by a larger and surprisingly faster ship. Adam was the only one to snap to attention as his signaler rushed to the group which stared out beyond. "Sir! There is another ship which is heading towards the Shepdog! Captain Uldan wants your orders!" Adam quickly rushed to the wheel of his ship and sent out orders "Tell them to veer towards the Battle Log, and order Shren to engage! No doubt the bounder is going after our transports!"
The Mountain of the Sea began to veer off as panic began to arise, the massive vessel began the only bulwark between it and the Black Sea Plow which was catching up. The Battle Log pulled itself forward, trying to scare off the Black Sea Plow as it came ever closer to the transports which safely began to go around. However, this was an awkward tactical decision as the Black Sea Plow did not engage Shren's ship but instead glided by both vessels and back out into the sea behind them. Adam could see what the vessel was doing and quickly ordered his men about.
"Galgor! Prepare for a boarding action! Signaler, tell Shren to disengage and to attack the other vermin galley! We will handle this bloody cretan."
Galgor did as ordered along with his sons who pushed past one another to get their respective weapons from below the deck. Galgor called out to Adam who was eyeing the Black Sea Plow with malicious intent "Adam, is it one of ours?"
"Used to be, my lord! It is the ship of Sagan Black now, wretched pirate of the sea! Prepare for a difficult fight, that hardened group of murderers and sea scum are certainly over their heads but will cause us quite some grief!"
The Black Sea Plow did not take the bait, even as Shren's ship veered off towards the battle with Barbo. Adam looked from behind him as Barbo's huge galley rammed into the backside of the lone sea otter galley, the two ships exchanging javelins and sling stones. The massive galley did not try to board, but instead began to creep closer and encircle the sea otters, trying to prevent Shren and Gorgland's ships from ramming into it. Adam was mortified at just how speedy such a large ship could be, but his impression turned to disgust when another large war galley began to come closer as well.
Snapping back to the Black Sea Plow, the black carrack veered towards the backside of the Mountain of the Sea and was hounding it. It became an awkward dance between Adam and Sagan, as the Mountain of the Sea tried to both protect its transports as much as engage the smaller pirate ship. The Black Sea Plow began to bait the Mountain of the Sea further away from the hare ships, which annoyed both Adam and his lord immensely.
"I am prepared Adam, but what is taking us so long!" Galgor angrily yelled. Adam did not answer, as the ship began to lurch forward, leaving the transport ships under the protection of the Shepdog for the time being. However, as soon as the Mountain of the Sea was out of range, the Black Sea Plow circled around and began to go straight for the Shepdog. Adam soon realized what kind of rouse the fox pirate was playing at, and looked on mortified as his massive ship was unable to turn in time for Sagan's assault.
"My lord! The pirates aren't after us entirely! They will be after our smaller vessels! Prepare to board to aid the Shepdog!"
_
Gorgland Wildlough's ship could only watch in horror as his subordinate captain desperately tried to veer his own ship toward safety, but Gorgland and Shren's ship found it to be a nuisance as the two ships bumped into one another simply trying to keep up with the Holy Reckoning as it circled the horrified sea otter vessel. Even though they were three ships, Gorgland realistically assumed there may as well have been two, as his subordinate ship was far too terrified to be commanded. The vermin pirates would throw javelins onto the deck of the sea otter vessel, which caused confusion, as the fumbled responses for skirmish resulted in pointless damage. Gorgland and Shren's ships drew closer, which was when the The Holy Reckoning did something rather peculiar. Once the two streaming warships came close enough to range, the Holy Reckoning crashed the smaller sea otter ship and began to wedge it and steer it with its size, forcefully veering it into a different course. Gorgland looked confused, wondering if the pirates were going to board the ship.
Instead, the Holy Reckoning disengaged and veered hard out to sea, which was when Gorgland realized what Barbo had done. The smaller galley, unable to steer correctly, came on a direct course with his own ship. With a sickening crash, Gorgland was nearly flung forward, but held onto dear life. Soon, only the Battle Log was heading towards the corsair vessel. Shren was practically beating his fellow shrews to row faster, but the corsair ship simply outpaced them and was heading straight for The Mountain of the Sea. Shren looked on in horror, his mouth affixed with shock as the black pirate ship in the distance drew ever closer to The Shepdog. Shren had not patience for the sea otter prince, and looked to his crew.
"The Sea otters can take care of their own, look onward! We need to help the Shepdog! Forward! Forward!"
As shren's ship attempted to come forward, a short scream was heard in the back. Shren turned to see his shrew signaler lurch forward, a javelin sticking out of his back. The poor creature fell overboard and a series of javelins began to rain down. There was a crunch and a crack, as hooks quickly began to appear on the stern. All the shrews froze except for Shren who rushed forward with his rapier drawn. He peered down, to see a group of rats from a large corsair ship climbing the rope to his deck, along with a host of others. Shren cut one of the ropes, much to the dismay of the rats peering up at him, as they fell into the water. Soon, all manner of sea scum were upon the Battle Log.
_
Uldan was at the stern of his own ship, watching as the creeping black pirate vessel ominously came forward. Uldan had noticed, and his marines were ready. His ship was the fastest it could be, but the other vessels had troubles. The transports began to regroup as he ordered, resting in the safety of Green Isle galleys. Uldan however then noticed nothing, as the pirate vessel began to lower sails and distance its speed. Uldan gave his signaler a worried look.
"Are they. . .slowing down?" Uldan asked sheepishly. He wasn't sure if the tense anxiety of being trailed by a terrifying black ship was getting to him, but his signaller slowly nodded his head, confirming Uldan was not crazy. The gears in Uldan's head began to turn, as the black ship went farther and farther behind, as if it wanted to get caught by the Mountain of the Sea. This seemed like an odd tactic, at first, up until Uldan felt a tap on his shoulder.
One of his lookouts whispered into his ear "Sir, Shren's ship is being attacked, and the sea otter galleys are damaged. The corsair ship is head-" Uldan did not need to hear the rest, his eye suddenly looked to his right, and saw the Holy Reckoning streaming towards the capital ship. Uldan froze at first, but snapped himself out as quickly as he could and screamed "Turn this ship around! Turn it around now! They are going to board the Mountain of the Sea! Hurry! Hurry!"
Tarlo looked straight forward at his prize which laid off in the distance, the great hare ship looked menacing as it grew in size as they came ever closer. Grof came closer to his master, his sword at the ready. Grof knew all too well that Tarlo was a great fighter, but he had only seen little of the true combat of marine fighting. Tarlo gripped his trident uneasily, but his pride prevented him from running. Barbo stood close to him, his boarders ready and blood hungry. The corsairs came ever closer, the hairs not noticing as they were preparing to board the Black Sea Plow. They realized what was happening far too late, as the Holy Reckoning swayed its way toward the underbelly of the ship. Rather suddenly, Barbo put his paw infront of Tarlo as the ship finally reached its climax, crashing its battering ram into the Mountain of the Sea. Tarlo nearly felt himself going flying, as everyone on the ship lurched forward and regained their composure. Tarlo had never felt such a force before, but Barbo's paw kept him from flying off into certain death.
"Come, now is a time to make our entrance. We have little time before the other warships crash upon us in turn! Quickly!" Barbo's mood changed. The riskiness of this endeavour was considerable, and if it worked and they could take the ship, all this trouble would have landed him a legendary victory. Grof threw up his rope and climbed on, throwing himself and the other pirates into the fray that began to spill onto the Mountain of the Sea once again. Tarlo and Barbo went up second, climbing the ropes and keeping an eye on the deck.
Then finally it came, Tarlo leaped onto the deck of the ship, and looked around. Gore and bodies piled onto the ship's deck as the Long Patrol and the pirates frantically tried to gain control over the deck. Tarlo looked forward at his query, the mountain lord himself. Tarlo shouted at the top of his lungs at the badger lord, pride etching his voice, and the badger froze to greet him.
"I am Tarlo Greeneyes, Son of the Lord of all Vermin, and Master of all Slaves! I have come to enact vengeance upon my whole family line, usurper! Your end has come, and I shall make it so!"
Tarlo gave a look to Barbo who only gave him a 'it was okay' shrug, and drew his own weapon and entered the fray. The dance of fighting on the ship was great, as Tarlo tore through the lines of Long Patrol who stood in his way. Galgor Ironpaw was mortified at the ease that Tarlo duelled and butchered his Long Patrol. Anger swelled in the badger as he charged forward, smashing his warhammer into the deck of the ship, only for Tarlo to nimbly dodge and stick his trident into the badger's arm. Galgor reached back in pain, but before Tarlo could strike further at him, the wildcat was rammed into by Dagor. The scarred warrior practically rammed the wildcat across the ship, and looked on in fear as the badger attempted to finish him off with his battleaxe. Tarlo reached down into his belt and knifed the badger clean across the face, forcing him to release him. Tarlo was able to get out just in time, only to see yet another badger far off into the distance looking straight at him. The three badgers locked their dreaded eyes on Tarlo and his green cloak, and began to charge.
_
Sagan was on the deck of the Mountain of the Sea, his new ship, but worries stretched his mind as he looked around. The Long Patrol put up a fight that was beyond fearsome, even as his skilled pirates were dying in droves as the Long Patrol surged from the below deck to aid their comrades. Sagan saw Tarlo, only but for a moment, looked around helplessly. Sagan thought he was frozen in confusion and fear of battle, looking for a weaker opponent to fight. He was slightly disappointed, but he understood fully, up until three badgers came barreling at him from all angels. Sagan soon thought that Tarlo may as well be dead, but the wildcat surprised him further when he rammed his trident into the ground, leaped onto it, and jumped out of danger in time, the three badgers crashing into one another. Sagan smiled, in grim satisfaction, fighting his way through the mess to meet up with Barbo on the other side.
"I am afraid, matey, we are over extending ourselves! This is taking too long!"
Barbo couldn't have agreed more, looking more and more around. The badgers alone were not racking up casualties, the hares held their own, they were highly focused and skilled, far more than even Barbo had anticipated. Even as their comrades were felled by the pirates, it only strengthened their resolve. The hares guarded those with crossbows who fled onto the upper deck of the ship, sniping at the pirates. The hares were cornering lone raiders, and the badgers would not take long to recover. Tarlo and Grof, both looking quite bloodied, joined them.
"Their delaying us." Grof sneered "I saw in the distance your daughter's ship breaking off, and a damaged war galley heading towards us. The other ship turned fully around. I suggest retreat."
"We cannot retreat!" Tarlo interjected "We are winning. . .aren't we?"
Barbo and Sagan looked at Tarlo and shook their heads. Barbo cheered up the Wildcat with a smile "We damaged them, but it won't take them long to recover, but we can recover far faster. We slowed them down, that is certain. When we return, we can finish them off!"
Tarlo sighed, but couldn't fight such logic. The pirates were soon speedily tapping shoulders, as they formed lines to get onto their boarding ropes, sliding back down to their ships. Tarlo and Grof were nearly back onto Barbo's ship, before he felt a rough tug on his cape. Tarlo turned to see Dagor Ironpaw gleefully looking at him, gave a smirk, and grabbed the wildcat's cape and threw him further into the ongoing fray. His brother and father distracted with fending off Sagan's pirates, Tarlo found himself weaponless and practically surrounded. Dagor lurched forward, trying to gut Tarlo into twain.
Tarlo felt hunted for the first time in his life, and it was a sickening feeling. Dagor crashed through the vermin, as Tarlo would bump into vermin and hare alike. Dagor had his eyes set on him, but before the badger could catch up with him, the badger let out a bloody cry and fell onto the floor. A terrified looking Grof stood over the badger, but before he could try to grab Tarlo and escape, Dagor punched the gray rat which sent him flying into the side of the ship. Grof's nose was practically flattened, he was alive, but he felt horrifying pain as he felt his face. One of Barbo's pirates took him, as Tarlo made his escape onto Sagan's ship.
With the distance of the battle behind them, the two pirate ships disengaged, blood once again painting the deck of the ship red, and the wails of hares could be heard. Dagor finally collapsed and passed out from pain, his only thoughts on what he would do to the Greeneyes if he ever met them again.
_
Barbo was at first concerned when he was back on his ship, and a pirate came back with Grof, Tarlo's faithful guard and servant. Barbo was practically shaking an agonizing gray rat about Tarlo's fate, only for Grof to give a wheezing and unintelligible response. Barbo looked onto The Mountain of the Sea, scanning it for clues, but could see nothing. Barbo had no time to waste, as the Holy Reckoning was disengaging. Of the pirates who poured onto the deck of the hare's ship, so few had come back. It was disheartening. Perhaps I shall write a ballad of their glories when we return to my palace, but for now, we must retreat. Barbo's heart soon began to soar however as the two ships went forward, evading the Shepdog at it came too late to the aid of the larger ship. Barbo could see Sagan and Tarlo safe, although Tarlo looked to be limping a bit. Barbo's mind wandered to what happened, but his focus soon shifted. The pirates had done a number on the fleet of ships, and Barbo was tempted to go after the transport vessels.
However, a tap on Barbo's shoulder from his signaler snapped him out of his daze. "Cap'n. Sagan says they lost a lot, but mis Penolpe's ship be still full. Sagan wants to know the plan."
"Signal him to retre-" Barbo was looking out to sea, and then he saw it, a Green Isle vessel. A large one which he had been evading. It was trying to avoid the pirates gaze, turning all the way around to meet up with the transport vessels. Barbo shifted his sight to the back, the damaged and terrified ship he had forced to crash into it was chugging behind. Barbo quickly deduced that the larger vessel was a more pleasing target, and it was right, allowing the scouting vessel to escape unharmed. Perhaps it thought the other hare vessel would be enough to deter a direct attack.
They were wrong.
"That ship. . .looks quite vulnerable. Tell Sagan I am boarding that ship over there, my dear friend. I am thinking of taking in some extra slaves."
Gorgland was white in the face, he had made a crucial mistake and he knew it. He had hoped to do a wide circle around the battle and meet up with the Shepdog to fend off the pirates, and if the pirates disengaged, he would at least be in a position to fight them. The sea otter prince was now looking forward, the Holy Reckoning bearing down on him with undue speed. It's black ally was also making turns, and even if the other ships arrived on time, the pirates would have taken out their own. However, there was yet some hope, the Shepdog and the Battle Log were heading straight for him, and if his ship could simply last that long, the pirates would be fully run off. The mysterious ship also was on his mind, it was a Green Isle ship, and clearly had a young crew. Its signaler used broken codes and it was ready to make a stand.
"My lord, your orders?" One of the sea otter marines, a captain, asked.
"Prepare the marines, and get ready to fend off this enemy. Hopefully the cr-" There was a sudden crash at the end of the ship. There were shouts and cries, as javelins were thrown, as the third enemy ship which had been fighting Shren made its appearance once again. This time however, the ship crashed into his own backside. He cursed under his breath, his lookout should have noticed! Perhaps he had wanted to keep such a full eye on the enemy ships that he had not bothered to look for the pirate's fleeing ally. This would be no fight, but a massacre.
Gorgland looked as battle raged across his deck, his sword clanged against the pirates who flooded from the stern, as the sea otters made desperate attempts to keep their enemy at bay. His sight returned to the hated enemy, the Holy Reckoning, which was getting ready to crash into his own. Suddenly however, another ship pulled up to the gap between themselves at the pirate galley. The mysterious ship had stopped Barbo from ramming into his own, and a pained smile went across Gorgland's face. The damned braved fools, maybe perhaps we can kill Barbo yet! Gorgland looked to the ship, as Sea Otter marines and sailors brandished makeshift weapons as pirates poured ontop of them from all sides.
Then he saw him.
Gorgland looked out, his joy of safety suddenly becoming ash in his mouth.
His brother, clear as day and in his fine tunic, his sword outstretched, stared down a pirate. Canton Wildlough parried the blade, but was hit in the gut by the pirate. The ship was overwhelmed in minutes, precious time as Gorgland yelled at his crew.
"Pull this ship around! Pull it around! To ar-"
"Sir, we need to escape, the signalers on the Shepdog and Battle Log say they cannot make it!"
"You don't, they don't-"
"Sir, your orders!"
Gorgland looked frozen in fear, practically mad with fury and hopelessness as his little brother soon faced the evil monster himself, coming down off the ship. Barbo looked surprised, and intrigued. He could practically see the smile on his face. Canton stood no chance, as the pirates disarmed him and came upon him.
"No. . ."
Gorgland was shivering, calling out to all who could hear him "Pull this ship around! We are boarding that corsair's ship! Tur-"
Gorgland's officers, who had finished fending off the other pirates, were beside themselves and were trying to hold Gorgland back from going into the water. They knew the smaller ship bought them time to escape, and they did so with what speed they had, ignorant of what Gorgland saw.
The battle was over, and an eerie mist descended upon the fleet of the woodlanders. Galgor looked out over the sea, Adam by his side. Both were bloodied, and small scars could be seen in parts of their bodies, and clothes torn. Yet despite the pain, both stood as grim as ever, with Adam's paws clasped behind his back. Galgor looked behind him, with the hares delivering dead comrades below deck, and scrubbing off the sea scum from their precious and more valuable wood. His son Dagor suffered a severe injury to his leg in the battle, and his other son still would not speak to him. The hares would give angry glances at both him and their comrades, no comradery was amongst them. They had won, but it was a pyrrhic victory.
"Adam. How many did we lose?"
"37. The corsairs lo-"
"Too many, Adam. Too many."
Adam sighed but agreed. The ships were closer together now, but we're all damaged in some way. The battering by the Holy Reckoning was considerable, but Adam was only slightly relieved that their transports were not hit. The thought of entire divisions of Long Patrol sinking into the sea mortified him.
The solemn moment was broken by an angry sea otter prince, cursing and yelling at his subordinates and others. Gorgland pushed past several hares and came up to Galgor "Badger Lord! I order you to turn these ships around, for the sake of Green Isle an-"
"I understand your frustration, Prince Wildlough, but we have no means of catching those ships. I am sorry yo-"
"You don't understand, my brother! That damn fool caught up, he, I, he. . ." Gorgland lost words, but Galgor looked surprised but unfazed.
"I am sorry for your loss, Gorgland, but I have no means of giving you vengeance. We need to get to Salamanderstron immediately."
"Do you not hear me! My brother. . ." Gorgland paused, mortified at the thought. His fellow captains kept a distance as Gorgland was furious, and little would calm him. Other hares stood around, watching as the sea otter prince and badger lord verbally fought.
"I cannot help your brother if we all sink into the bottom of the sea! I don't think you noticed, but we are bleeding dry in both supplies and in skill. By the time those ships pulled away, they were already lost!"
"Please! I cannot lose him. Not now. . ."
"I am sorry, but we can only help him later, once we get back to sa-"
"We have no time!"
Arguing continued, until the signaler of the ship came up, trying to get their attention. Neither tried to notice, as Adam came to the signaler and spoke to him. Adam's eyes lit up as he whistled at the two.
"We must leave, my lords. We must leave now."
"I will not abandon my brother!" Gorgland practically was ready to jump as Adam, but was held back by Galgor. Adam only pointed out to sea, and all turned to where he pointed. On the horizon, past the mists, a vast armada was coming. Vast arrays of ships with green sails poked their heads out of the mists, black and green flags swung wide in all directions. Galgor and Gorgland looked all around, there were so many ships they they could not count them all. Fear ran down Galgor's spine, a feeling he thought he would never had. Is this the Green Eyed Horde? Is this what comes to my Mossflower? Spirits help us.
Galgor turned to a fuming Gorgland and replied coldly "I cannot help you, but my lord, come to Salamanderstron before it is too late. You cannot help your brother now, but I would prefer not to tell your father I lost both his sons at sea."
Gorgland sniffed and nodded his head in agreement. Pushing past the hares, the sea otter and his crew returned to their ship as the vast aramanda loomed ever closer. The fleet of Salamanderstron was soon on the chase, pushing hard and fast into the horizon.