A/N: Abrahem: Yes I had quite a lot of fun with Angus and Andrew and the harespeech. Especially the fear of long words and all the jokes about hares liking things long. I guess yeah, it was obvious Salamandastron was in danger. It's always the first to be under siege, isn't it?
Lord demon, I know, I know... I cannot be trusted with schedules and speed... but hopefully the quality is up to scratch! I am very excited about this coming arc, which means you should be too :P
AlexFalTalon, I do hope I haven't triggered the fear of long words latent within you and all beings XD Glad you found it funny! It was a lot of fun to write.
Keldor: I think we can agree that being in Angus and Andrew's good books is risky business. Oh yes, yes, yes! The long overdue, often neglected piratical pirates are finally here!
Waycaster: This isn't the fiiiirst time Angus and Andrew have been to Salamandastron- they've been bothering hares since they were wee little otters and I think you'll find harespeech an unforgettable kind of dialect. Yes Sharpfur and Greyclaw... was a long time ago. I never do seem to realize how old BaW is...
Sebias: Victoria's not just going to accept vermin- she's willing to give Greyclaw the benefit of the doubt sure, because she has spent a good deal of time with Greyclaw and knows how he works. But it would be massively out of character for her to accept Sharpfur so easily. Why! He could be plotting something sinister! Could be? He *is* plotting something, isn't he?
Codj: Awww, thank you for your kind words. I'm sure there are better fanfics out there, mind, and am not arrogant enough to think myself phenomenal but I appreciate the thoughts!
AvengeThem: Well, Constance is quite a bit more complex than I have really gone into- but she's not quite anti-vermin if you catch my drift.
Guest: Well... the cast isn't back yet but er- I hop this chapter will be worth the hiatus XD
Remnants: Thank you for the art, the fav, the encouragement and support and of course, for reading this. That goes to the rest of you, friends and beloved readers.
And here we are, the long-awaited beginning to the Pirates Arc! I er- advise you all to go back and read the chapters 'Why Be Pirates Pirates, Because We Arr' and 'The Last Blueberry Muffin' to jog your memory on who's who in this arc- bearing in mind that most of the beasts here are canon fodder (but I'm not going to say which ones muahahahahahahaha) or side-characters at best. But they shall be fun to send on adventures and throw krakens at! I'm going to tryyyyyy and update at a steadier pace from now on (at least once a month) but don't hold me to that :P Some excuses seem to be in order for this long hiatus of mine. I was er- working on several other projects at the same time- still am technically but I've decided to put them on the back burner because I've been waiting so long to get to this arc... Anyways, without further adooooooooooooooooo I present to you...
THE PIRATES! In An Adventure With The Manywhiskers!
Dark clouds hung above the pirate fleet as they cut through the open sea. Black sails sagged and drooped miserably, having long since been abandoned by favourable winds. Up in one of the crow's nests Browneye sat in a puddle of fresh rainwater.
"Never should've taken this job," the stoat muttered, trying and failing to expel the liquid from his station. "First mate, pah! All I gets te do is sit and get wet. I'm bloody soaked an' starvin'! No sign of land, no slaves te pick on an' make me feel better about my own misery, and no vittles to boot!"
He had been hesitant at first to accept the position of first mate, but Clogg had been most persuasive and Browneye knew that it was never a good idea to refuse somebeast who could make a sail or slave of him in the blink of an eye. "But nobeast said anythin' about first mates living in the crow's nest…"
Browneye was not the only beast in a foul and sour mood. A terrible storm had snuck up on the unsuspecting corsairs, and wreaked havoc upon the pirate crews. Several beasts had been lost at sea along with a large chunk of their supplies (being pirates, the vermin were more concerned about the missing supplies). They had been blown off course, and with the heavens hidden behind a wall of grey, it would be a while before they could find their way again.
"An' all coz Toothclaw here decided te throw a party!"
Being pirates, the first thing the vermin had done was start pointing claws at one another. Or clawing one another. It varied from pirate to pirate.
"I did no such thing!" Toothclaw hissed. "I merely suggested bringing up a barrel of grog or two seeing as we used te be well-supplied." The mink raised a paw and pointed one of his tooth-tipped claws at another one of the captains. "It was Clawtail what told everybeast te do the same."
All eyes turned towards the fat fox. Clawtail flared up with rage and began thrashing his tail from side-to-side, his paw on his sword-hilt. "None of us expected a storm. Not even yew and yer little fish-bones Toothclaw! And it weren't me what suggested we bring the vittles up too. That were Prince Bork!"
The young wolverine crossed his arms as the accusatory eyes turned towards him. "I didn't bring anything up actually. I was down in the hold, protecting the barrels from yew lot."
"By eating everything in them, lardbum!" One-Eye snapped irritably, giving the wolverine a hard shove. "Somebeast should have been guarding it from yew!"
A few beasts chuckled, Bork scowled and refused to get up, and the wildcat continued. "But it wasn't the Princesses fault we lost the food. We could have saved it from falling overboard if we weren't all drunk! We should be blaming whatever beast made that hellgates-damned grog so good!" With a great flourish, the wildcat drew his cutlass. "Death to the grog-makers!" he cried, before falling on his face. Evidently he was still suffering from a hangover.
"I wasn't that drunk," muttered the ever-grumpy Ripple Sharkbreath. "I was tryin' to get everybeast t'get the supplies back below deck, but for some reason I was locked out of me own ship!"
Bloodface let out an involuntary squeak and the captains turned to him. As one they approached, their snarling faces drawing ever-nearer. "C-cap'n said te secure the hold."
"Which captain?" demanded Toothclaw, grabbing Bloodface by the scruff of a weather-beaten tunic.
"Which hold?" demanded Sharkbreath, twisting the weasel around to face him.
"With all the supplies back inside it, yew idjit!" howled the Dreaded, tearing at his beaded fur.
"I-I'm sorry Cap'n. I-I-I was drunk."
"Ye'll be worse then that when I'm done with ye, ye mountain-climbin' son of carcass!" the greatrat roared, shoving both Toothclaw and Sharkbreath aside, so that Bloodface fell upon the floor. "I'll tear ye limb from-"
"Watchit! Who'd'ye think yer knockin' over?" Sharkbreath reached for his cutlass.
Poisonblade was between the captains in a heartbeat. Standing over Bloodface, she cleared her throat and all present fell silent. "I lost a few of my crew to that storm." she spoke in a whisper, but everybeast heard her loud and clear. "More than any of yew…" she trailed off, and drew a knife from her belt, before whirling around to face the weasel. "If anybeast deserves a shot at Bloodface it's me!"
"B-b-but it ain't my fault!" the weasel protested, scrambling away from the she-rat and her blade. "I only locked m-m-my Cap'n out on the' deck."
"Only!?" howled the Dreaded, wrapping his meaty fists around the unfortunate weasel's neck and beginning to squeeze.
"Well we didn't have any of that rubbish on my ship," Ripple scratched the tip of his chin, as Bloodface began to choke. "In fact we'd have made it out alright and intact if some meadow-legged, rabbit-eared squid hadn't crashed their ship into ours!" The ferret spun on his heel, the better to point his drawn cutlass at Clawtail.
"It were an accident!" the fox snarled, raising his own blade. "An' I only crashed into yew coz Toothclaw crashed inte me!"
"I did not crash into anything, thank you very much," the mink seethed, baring his fangs. "Yew hit Clogg's ship."
"So it's Clogg's fault!" roared Clawtail.
"Yer all stupid." Bork shouted suddenly. As one the pirates turned towards the wolverine, their jaws clenched and their paws balled up into fists. "It's the rain's fault." he said, with an air of great intellect.
"Which is another way of sayin' it's nobeast's fault," Clogg barked, stomping towards the group and appearing at Bork's side. "An' certainly not Bloodface's. Let him go before he passes out."
The Dreaded grunted and threw the gasping, purple-faced weasel hard upon the deck.
"Now, as I said… it's nobeast's fault," the rat glared at them all, daring any of the pirates to challenge that statement.
The one-eyed rat personally blamed whichever beast (and he had some pretty good ideas as to which beast 'whichever beast' was) had locked him in his cabin and hidden his spare key, thus preventing him from putting down the party idea. But there was nothing to be gained going down that rabbit hole…
"Look, the storm is behind us an' when the sky's clear we'll have our headin' again. Until then we ration what supplies we have left -especially the water. An' if I catch any one o' ye gettin' any bright ideas th' storm'll be the least of yer worries..."
Klis, who now stood at Clogg's side, raised a paw. "An' if ye could put down yer cutlasses it'd be nice. A-an' yer knife, a-an' yer tail-blades a-an' yer teeth-c-claws. Oh an' maybe somebeast should bring One-Eye te his cabin."
To Clogg's surprise, the pirates lowered their unused weapons, gave the downed wildcat and the gasping Bloodface a kick or two, and went to nurse their hangovers in private.
The burly ferret turned to Clogg, a massive grin on his face. "How did I do?"
A meager, miserable meal was served upon the decks. It was Bork's worst nightmare, a single stale biscuit (all the not-stale biscuits had been swept up by the storm) and a dry stew of half-rotten sardines that was so sloppy and looked so much like mud that even the ever-hungry Bork approached it cautiously. It didn't taste any better than it looked. The wolverine knew from experience that the biscuits only tasted good in large quantities and nobeast could've made the stew taste good.
He still ate it of course, for such was the way of the gluttonous, but being raised a Prince he was used to sumptuous, well-made dishes. The fare of pirates was lowly and piteous, and not just in comparison.
"All the cooks got swept away…" Bork muttered grumpily. Why had nobeast bothered to rescue the cooks?
Around him, the various crews alternatively made noises of agreement and scowled and swore under their breath.
Scarface was of the latter group. A big, angry and short-tempered stoat, who wore a hat too small for his massive head. He was a pirate captain in his own right, but not one important enough to sit in a cabin and dine with another. Of course he could have retreated to his own ship and let his rage simmer in peace, but the Bloody Gull had been badly hit by the storm, and Scarface did not like to hear all the noise his crew made while repairing it.
Bork licked his bowl clean and placed it upon the deck. "We're gonna starve…" he sighed miserably. Starvation was a fate worse than death, all princes knew that. And if a beast was starved for too long, they'd die too!
"Aye. Unless another storm carries yew off," Scarface sniggered. "A dozen beasts could live off yer rations."
There was nothing corsairs and sailors loved more than a good duel, verbal or otherwise, and the assembled crewbeasts watched Bork now, waiting for his reaction.
Bork did not seem to notice, and nodded vigorously. "I knew I wasn't being fed enough. A wolverine ought ter eat as much as a hundred beasts!"
Scarface bit back a growl. "Bet yew could feed two hundred."
Bork sniffed, and turned his nose up. "Can't do that if I starve. Can't do nothin' if I starve…"
The corsairs in his immediate vicinity were suddenly eating much quicker, eager to finish before Bork got any ideas about second helpings.
He's too thick-skulled te be insulted! "I meant," Scarface hissed, determined to get his point across. "Yer so fat we could roast ye over hot coals an' feast for weeks! Use ye as fish bait! Feed ye te a squid an' live on ink!"
The tips of Bork's muzzle curled into a frown. The young wolverine was beginning to grow annoyed. "We haven't got any coals, an' yew need worms for fishin', an' yew can't eat ink. Everybeast knows that. What we need is te find somebeast that cooks."
"Mangy-furred cousin of a pine tree!" Scarface snarled, rising to his feetpaw. He stomped towards Bork, his paws clenched into fists. "Can't ye tell I'm insultin' ye or is that stomach of yers blockin' yer ears? It's yer fault we'll starve! Eatin' too much an' doin' nothin' all day like a fat little-"
Bork's fist cut short the angry stoat's sentence. Scarface fell upon the deck, his hat knocked askew. To his credit, he got up a moment later, snarling even louder.
"Ye'll pay fer that yew flabby-faced-"
This time Bork, who had had enough of Scarface, smacked the stoat away and sent him hurtling towards the nearest cabin. The one Klis just so happened to be exiting. The burly ferret yelped, and braced for collision. Not that that made said colliding any easier.
"Ye ought te be more careful," the ferret scolded, helping Scarface to his feetpaws. "Could have seriously hurt yerself the way ye ran inter me all hurried-like. Could've even broke the door!"
The crewbeast giggled like mischievous dibbuns, and watched as Scarface's face began to turn red.
"Aye Scarface! Be more careful!" somebeast jeered.
"Could've hurt yerself, ye know!"
The big stoat growled, and now that he had regained his balance, gave Klis a hard shove. "Ye ought te be more careful, brat!" A strong paw tightened round the ferret's silken wrappings and Scarface drew Klis in so that they were nose to nose. The better to snarl into his face. "I don't need yer advice an' I don't need yer help." He gave the ferret another rough shove, and this time Klis lost his balance and went sprawling to the floor.
The crewbeasts outside had already begun jeering at him.
"Now, now, Scarface, no reason te bully the babe."
"Lad hasn't got his sea legs yet."
Klis did his best to find his footing again, but Scarface did not let him and delivered a strong kick to the ferret's chest.
"Stay down ye little runt, an' watch yerself next time!" Scarface turned away, satisfied that he'd managed to save face a little.
Klis might have stayed down were he not fully aware that such a maneuver would not bode well for his future. Weak leaders were killed, everybeast knew that. Scrambling to his feet, Klis snatched up the bowl of stew he'd been contemplating beforepaw, raised it high and sent it hurtling towards Scarface's unprotected back.
SPLAT!
It was a direct hit, and in half a heartbeat the crewbeasts turned their jeering towards Scarface once more.
"Yer gonna regret that…" the stoat snarled, turning back towards Klis. "Yer gonna regret that when I rips out yer spine!"
Klis, who already felt spineless, squeaked and made to slam the cabin door shut, but Scarface was upon him before he could do so.
"Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!" cheered the vermin on the deck.
The stoat cracked his knuckles. "Or should I start with yer eyeballs?"
Klis whimpered, stumbled backwards and fell hard upon the floor.
Scarface roared with laughter, raised a fist, and suddenly froze as cold steel pressed against his throat. Swallowtail stood besides him, on tiptoe. "Now is not the time te be makin' enemies," the jill warned, her eyes narrowed dangerously.
Scarface scoffed and brushed her knife away, only to realize (with a little gasp) that she had another pointed between his legs.
"Why don't ye go back te yer meal Cap'n Scarface?"
A short, silent moment later, the stoat spat upon the ground, stepped backwards and stomped away, determined to make his footfalls as loud as possible. Swallowtail sheathed her knives and turned to offer Klis her paw.
"C'mon Marick-son. Let's get ye patched up," she shot a wink at the vermin outside (who knew her reputation) before gently pulling the cabin door shut.
The crewbeasts outside gave one another knowing nudges and winks, some hooted and whistled. All turned to find their bowls missing or empty.
"Who took me biscuit?"
"Where's me stew at?"
As one, the corsairs turned to find Prince Bork smacking his lips, a tower of polished bowls standing before him. He belched, oblivious to their glares.
"I'm doomed!" Klis whispered to himself, tugging at his ears. He was a walking corpse, future fishfood, dead in every sense of the word! Scarface would be back no doubt at some point, in a fouler and more terrible mood, and no doubt holding something sharp. "A-a-a ferret-cutter!" he stammered under his breath, his eyes wide with worry. And if Scarface didn't kill him, the shame would. He'd never be able to show his face out upon the deck. The laughter and jeering, brief though it had been, had cut through him like a thousand knives and nobeast could or would respect him now. "An' then they find out I'm a fake an' they kill me!" he continued to whimper. The burly ferret paced across the cabin relentlessly. "An' if they don't, Clogg will!"
Bit of a mummy's boy aren't ye? Swallowtail sighed inwardly. Why'd I have te get stuck with him? "That were a close one, eh?"
Klis, who had somehow forgotten all about her, straightened up as if electrocuted. "S-s-swallow- h-h-hullo."
The jill put on her most winning smile, and approached the white-faced and frozen ferret. "Nothin' yew couldn't have handled by yerself of course, but I didn't want ye te get in trouble or anythin'."
"Y-yeah n-nothin' I couldn't-" Klis made as if to back away but seemed to think better off it. "B-but thanks! It's er- I'm glad ye stepped in," the burly ferret cleared his throat. "Bad time te get in trouble a-at a time like this."
"Aye, leave the brawlin' for the landlubbers, as me Cap'n used te say," she stopped a short distance away, and shot him a wink. There was nothing to be gained from drawing any nearer. Indeed Klis was eyeing her the way one watched a particularly vicious-looking shark. "But still that were mighty brave of yew, standin' up te a brute like Scarface. Not any beast could've done that ye know. An' the way ye threw that stew!" Swallowtail shook her head in mock-amazement. "Best flick of the wrist I ever saw."
Klis swallowed audibly, but nevertheless went pink around the ears.
Blushing already, geez, ye'd think nobeast ever payed ye a compliment. Swallowtail went on, as if she had not noticed. Never had a mark this easy… "Why! Yew must be the first beast in a dozen seasons te give him what his ugly mug deserves! Nobeast else had the courage y'see, considerin' what he done te the last one."
"W-w-what did he do?" Klis whispered, dreading the answer.
Swallowtail shook her head grimly. "Nothin' pretty, but I'd like te see him try do the same te a son of Marick!"
"Y-y-yeah. But still it'd b-be best if I d-didn't get into any trouble-"
"Oh of course, that'd be terrible. No needs te worry." She looked Klis right in the eye and threw in her hook. "I'll always be there for ye."
It had been too much too quickly and Klis stepped backwards resolutely. "Oh I don't know… I don't think it'll… it'd be er- necessary."
Swallowtail backtracked hastily. "Of course, of course. What am I saying? Yew don't need my help for somebeast like Scarface! Yer more than a match for him all by yerself."
Klis nodded in agreement. "Y-yeah! I-I don't but er-" Realization struck the hobb and at once he stopped nodding and began to curl in on himself. "If it ever looks like I'm er- in trouble or anythin'-"
There ye go. "I'll be there for when ye need me," Swallow clarified, beaming.
"Th-thanks!" he squeaked, smiling nervously.
"Any time- Klis was it?"
"Aye that's me. Klis," he suddenly remembered that he was not supposed to be Klis. "But er- I-I'm also Whimper."
"Whimperrrrrr…" Swallowtail tasted the word and shook her head, taking a cautious step forwards. Klis did not recoil. "I much prefer callin' yew Klis if ye don't mind."
"W-well I-I don't mind. Y-ye can call me Klis just er- between th' two of us."
"That sounds wonderful!" she beamed, and drew even nearer. Klis continued to seemingly shrink into himself. The burly ferret was melting away into a mass of blushing pink and nervous smiles. It's always the shy ones that cave in quick-like...
"Say, ye threw yer rations at him, didn't ye? Scarface that is. Well I was just considerin'... since I haven't touched any of me food yet- but no that'd be silly. Forget I said anythin', I shouldn't 'ave thought it."
"What is? What's silly?"
Ye poor, sweet kit, ye really are gullible… yer lucky it's me comin' after ye. "Oh I was just wonderin' if yew wanted te share, but that wouldn't be proper. What am I after all, next te yew?"
"H-hey that's fine. Ain't silly at all. I'd love te share with ye!" Klis cleared his throat. "I-I mean, yer offerin' an' it's the polite thing te do, see? An' yew saved me from- I-I mean ye helped me out with Scarface- I-I should be offerin' yew my rations!"
"Pity yew threw them at that plankton-munching sea salt, eh?" Swallowtail's laughter was genuine this time. "Ye'll just have te share t'morrow then. C'mon, afore that sorry excuse for stew gets cold." She offered her paw and after a moment's hesitation, Klis stretched his own out to meet her's. "Oh an' in the future if there's any trouble with Scarface, chuck a chair instead. Hurts more y'see."
"Yer rations are up there?" Klis swallowed, staring up at the crow's nest far above the deck and suddenly feeling very small.
"Oh yes," said Swallowtail matter-of-factedly. "Had te make sure nobeast would steal 'em ye know. That Bork feller…"
"Y-yeah, Bork c-can't get up there…" For that matter, Klis was not entirely sure he could get up there either.
Swallowtail tapped the side of his head and gave him a smile. The sight of her pearly white teeth was enough for him to, temporarily, forget his fear. "Smart lad, ye've got a good brain in there. C'mon, race ye te the top."
Klis did not like the idea of climbing up to the crow's nest so much- and was beginning to wonder whether he ought to just go hungry when Swallowtail, already quite high up the rigging, turned. "Afore the vittles get cold Marick-son!" she called, shaking her tail at him.
"I-I'm comin', I'm comin'!" he called, not entirely sure whether all the ropes could take his weight.
"Not scared are ye?" she teased, and before he knew what he was doing he had one footpaw on the ropes.
"C-course I'm not!" Klis called back, not daring to look at her lest the fear be apparent on his face (it certainly felt apparent). "J-just findin' my footing is all!" His second footpaw was raised onto the rigging, just as a harsh and hollow wind came howling forth. The whole mast seemed to shake, and Klis, barely an inch above the ground, fell backwards with a scream.
Up above, Swallowtail sighed. This is going to take a while…
"I-I did it!" Klis panted, pulling himself into the salt-rimmed bucket that was the crow's nest. Hot, puffy and red-faced from the climb, the burly ferret slid to the ground. His paws were sore from gripping the rope too tightly, and his arms were still shaking. Thrice he had made the mistake of looking down and had frozen, only to be bruised and battered about by the winds that seemed to grow stronger the further up one went. But he had made it.
"Knew yew had it in yew…" Swallowtail wheezed, joining him at the top. She was breathless and sore from the countless times she had had to all but carry him (Klis was not very light), but smiled her radiant smile nonetheless.
"Oi!" came a third voice. "'o made yew two first mates?"
The pair of panting ferrets turned as one towards the crow's nest sole occupant, a weather-beaten and soaking-wet stoat, at present frowning at them.
"Nobeast… did…" Klis replied, glancing at Swallowtail for confirmation. The jill nodded, and with slightly more confidence Klis affirmed that they were not first mates.
The stoat harrumphed and crossed his paws over his chest. "Which explains what yew two are doin' up here, eh? Get back on deck before I tan yer hides!" he made the motion of cracking a whip, which was rather less threatening than it might have been considering he was unarmed.
"Er- who are ye?" Klis ventured to ask.
Browneye flared up like a porcupine, as if offended by the question. "Only Captain Clogg's loyal an' trusted first mate!"
Klis opened and closed his mouth. "Yew… are? I thought that was-"
"He killed his old one for a bet." Browneye clarified, leaving Klis (who had seen Darkhide earlier that day) incredibly confused. "Hired me as a replacement. Said 'e had his eye on me he did."
"I don't think I've seen ye before…"
"That's coz I've been up here for weeks, haven't I? Ain't got the time te associate with the crew, y'see? Just gotta fulfill me duty as first mate an' keep a look out for land. Cap'n's relyin' on me."
"First mates don't live in the crow's nest…"
Browneye scowled. "An' how would ye know?"
"Everybeast… knows…" Once more Klis turned towards Swallowtail for confirmation. She nodded and Klis went on. "Everybeast knows it's the lookout's job te spot first mate follows the Captain around an' does what 'e's told te, doesn't 'e? An' it's the lookout what stands on the crow's nest an' sees everythin'."
Browneye blinked once. "Yer pullin' me leg here! T-tryin' te get me te abandon me station an' inter trouble with the Cap'n, eh? Well l-I ain't gonna fall fur that rubbish- I- I-" Browneye's face fell and he went on in a smaller voice. "Y-ye mean I've been up here all this time for nothin'?"
Klis scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "Well… not fer nothin' since yer the lookout but er- somebeast else was s'posed te be the lookout."
Browneye blinked again, and for a moment it looked like he might faint, yet soon a growl came bursting out of it. "That darn rat lied te me! Told me I was s'posed te watch for land- the- the nerve of somebeasts! I-I'll tan her hide! Th-that Darkhide! Was that even her real name!? I'll whip her b-bloody! Paint her black an' red!" Such was the stoat's fury that, without another word to Klis or Swallowtail, he stomped to the edge of the nest and scrambled down towards the deck- snarling under his breath the whole way down.
"That was… unexpected…" Klis continued to scratch the back of his head in confusion.
"That it was Marick-son," Swallowtail agreed. "Now c'mon yew lunk. Sit down afore the stew gets cold!" And, as if from thin air, Swallowtail pulled out a bowl of hot, steaming stew that made Klis' mouth water.