Expedition Introduction Side Adventure The Urk Expedition: Apple Crates don't Snore...

While all the discussions were happening far below him in the bowels of the ship, the feared Captain was actually in quite a comparatively rare good mood. He was snuggled into his comfortable, plush mattress in his cabin, safe from the cold biting winds by a copious amount of blankets and pillows, and pleasantly warm due to the arrangement of the steam pipes in his cabin which made his bed quite comfortable. It had been a considerable extra expense in outfitting the Hide, since climate controlling his bed and office required multiple pipes that he could redirect at will or even shut off, but he figured it was justified for the comfort of whoever ended up being the captain of such a powerful warship.

His dream was pleasant, of a much younger todd simply relaxing with his vixen, Dusk, head in her lap and the two of them making dark jokes about the fate of the Imperium under Brudenell and other figures as they relaxed in the gardens of Storm’s Peak on Westisle when it was once an independent kingdom. He found the lengthy metaphor she had about the Lord-Protector having a stick up his arse particularly amusing and openly laughed, then he reached up and kissed her. A rare sight almost none of the Imperium or members of the Hide could imagine, or, perhaps, even the two of them now with the current state of their marriage strained by the decades and the politics of the Imperium.
 
The weasel's expression had softened somewhat, seeing the kit plead to be let go - let to try and make his hopeless swim back to shore. She was relieved to not have to squash that hope - and with Morgan and Silvertongue both seemingly agreeing with her on the plan.

She was less relieved to hear Morgan's next suggestion. More than horror, however, she felt a budding anger in her heart, enough to put her fur on edge, tail raising at her side. Who were these friends of hers to throw their lives away so carelessly? Didn't they understand what that meant to her? She stared at Morgan, then Silvertongue, as though there was some hidden language beneath their expressions, something she just wasn't deciphering.

For her part, there was enough emotion in her throat to drown out whatever words she wanted to give them - mustering only two for their benefit as she backed away.

"Stay here."

If they had more to say, she didn't wait long enough to hear them out. Scrambling for the ladder before anybeast else could, she began her way up and out of the hold, without making her intentions clear. If any were bound to follow her, they'd have to catch up with her first - making a beeline to the captain's quarters, fuming with each step.

The weasel raised her paw to rap upon his door, not about to let some beast she cared about fall upon their sword for the sake of their conscience. She'd think of some way out of this mess, and she'd do it without Morgan or Silvertongue getting themselves further endangered.
 
"Adopted brother? I'm not sure how well that will- Hey, where are you going?" Silvertongue turned as Vihma made a rush for the ladder. "Hold on, wait a second-" He hurried after her, quickening his pace as he saw her approaching the Captains quarters.

"Vihma! Just hold on!" He grabbed her shoulder and pulled her away. "Look-" He sighed. "If we are going to go to the Captain. Let's go together. I don't want to see Morgan getting punished, and like I said earlier, I don't like the idea of lying to the Captain. The two of us together may be able to work something out."

With that, he knocked on Talinn's door, before speaking up firmly. "Captain Talinn, Sir! Permission to enter the quarters? We have a... situation."

@Duke Talinn Ryalor
 
"Oh 'Gates."

Morgan swore quietly as Vihma dashed away, Silvertongue following close after. She started to move, then gave up as she realized how fast they all were compared to her. She had a stocky build, a boxer's frame that benefited her in a fight, but not so much in flight. She turned and went to Finn, kneeling before him. "Listen, kit," she advised quietly, "if they ask why you're here, just say you were looking for your ship, wandered aboard lookin' for yer mum, and didn't realize it was the wrong ship until it had already left. You were scared, so you came down here to hide. Otherwise, whatever they come up with, just run with it. Got it?"
 
Talinn was awoken from his happy retreat from the world and his problems by an abrupt rapping on the door, with Silvertongue mentioning something about a situation that presumably required his immediate attention since he dared to wake him up from his slumber. Jumping out of bed and grabbing his two swords and throwing on his hat, he quickly put the two blades on his belt, one paw on his katana to be ready to deal with combat at any moment, and swiftly rushed to the door. “Situation” could mean anything and it must be quite dire to disturb him in his sleep.

Storming over to the door, he opened it swiftly with something of a bang, his visage stern and serious, voice more than a little rough, irritated, and alarmed.

“What is it Aide Songfox? Pirates? Iceberg? Mutiny? Hull breach?” He demanded, looking at Silvertongue first, then Vihma.

@Morgan Liu @Silvertongue Songfox @Vihmastaja @FinnianBrightfur
 
Silvertongue stepped back, an alarmed look on his face. "Nothing like that, sir, but I felt that this couldn't wait until morning. You see, uh..."

He winced, rubbing the back of his head. "We've found, well... a young kit, sir. Stowed away on the lower decks."
 
Being a prisoner on death row was a terrible thing, but how much more awful it was when the weight of the noose rested on your shoulders! Before Finn could protest for more time to put off the inevitable, the fox and the ferret were gone.

Finn locked eyes with Morgan as he started to shiver involuntarily. He had heard the whole story twice now, but the expression on his face said there was no way he'd be able to convincingly tell that tale. But maybe if he just kept quiet, Morgan would make it up for him?

"Do the right thing, Finn..." came his father's voice, grave, but calm. Finn had a pawful of vivid memories of his pa, and many of them would come rushing back when he sat by Oliver's lantern. This one was a memory too -- when he was caught with his paw in the cookie jar. But this time, the memory was speaking to him in the present.

"But that could kill me!" his mind blurted out to the memory. But there was no reply, only a knowing silence.
 
Talinn took a moment to understand the situation, then was internally bewildered for a moment that it was such an urgent issue as to wake him up from his peaceful slumber, then realized that his whole disciplinary act earlier on in the journey must have worked. It was backfiring on him a little, now, in the sense that they must be terrified enough to immediately tell him if anything, even small, was amiss, but at the same time, he could not exactly be mad at them for that. In the end, despite the disruption to his slumber, this boded well for the journey. And as for the little stowaway? A chance to show he could be magnanimous and merciful. He had used the stick to keep the crew in line...now would be a good time for a carrot. Building loyalty one block at a time. Besides, another crewbeast would be useful in the adventure ahead.

Straightening himself up, he removed his paw from his katana, then straightened his hat, while keeping his face neutral for now, then gestured for Silvie to lead him towards the kit, while glancing at Vihma, the crewbeast who seemed so familiar, yet distant. Why was she here? He had almost forgotten about her...and now remembered to send a letter to Dusk to investigate her background if possible.

“You did well to report them to me so quickly, Silvertongue. Now, as we go to meet them, tell me more about them, where they were found, what gender and species…”

@Vihmastaja @Morgan Liu @FinnianBrightfur @Silvertongue Songfox
 
"Well, he's just a kit, Sir. He's barely a boy. I didn't find him, sir. It was Vihma here, and well, Morgan. Apparently, he down in the food stores. Morgan is keeping an eye on him right now. The poor lad, he's practically dressed in rags, and he looks just about starved, Sir. Though, I am unsure when he was able to get onto the ship, and how no one noticed."

As Silvertongue explained all this, he lead Talinn down to the hold, giving an apprehensive look to Morgan once they arrived.
 
Morgan straightened up as the captain approached. "Sir," she hailed him, standing with footpaws spread, paws clasped behind her back. "Permission to speak on the kit's behalf, Sir?"
 
Talinn listened to Silvertongue give his explanation, but did not do much besides simply nod as they walked down to the hold. He was more thinking about adding additional charges of negligence to the previous Captain of the Hide in his courts-martial-had security been so lax a literal kit could have somehow snuck his way aboard the pride of the Navy? What if it had been an Alkamarian saboteur? It was a blessing in disguise, this Urk mission, to restore a sense of discipline and order to the Hide, and, hopefully, Gyles would follow in his pawsteps.

He was pleased to see Morgan giving him the proper amount of respect, and returned her salute. Now that she was actually acting like a decent crewbeast, he could treat her as one. He shook his head to indicate no, then spoke.

“Let us see if our little stowaway can speak a little on his own first.” Talinn replied, lowering his voice and making it more soft. None of the crew would probably suspect it of him, but he actually was a father who had, when he could, raised kits and tried to raise them well...or as well as he was able, given the approximately zero guidance he had received and the little time he had. He liked to think he had improved with each kit...although Alwyn might never forgive him and the particularly ...problematic... one in Westisle scared both him and Dusk deep down, with her skills and the combination of both her parents' ambition.

Approaching the frightened, scrawny little fox kit in rags, Talinn actually knelt down and gently spoke to him. “Hello there young fellow...might I have the pleasure of knowing your name?”

He was not, despite what most thought of him, an unfair beast. A kit who barely knew right from wrong was a far different matter than a rebellious adult crewbeast. He intended to be lenient on this one.

@FinnianBrightfur @Morgan Liu @Vihmastaja @Silvertongue Songfox
 
Despite his perilous situation, Finn couldn't blame Vihma or Silvie for doing their jobs. They weren't being cruel, just bound by duty. The foxkit was convinced though, Morgan's pity wasn't bait. He gave her an apologetic glance as the footsteps loomed closer -- as if to silently thank her for trying.

As Talinn stepped down into the hold, Finn took a deep breath and held it. This had to be the captain. Or if not, someone who had the authority to decide his fate. Whoever he was, Morgan stood at attention -- and it seemed wise to follow her lead. Hesitantly, he stood up straight behind the apple crate, careful to keep his paws away from the knife tucked into his waistband.

Still, as Talinn came closer, the foxkit's posture failed. He shoulders curled in defensively, and he struggled to not pull away. His whole frame trembled once, before the adrenaline dump finally seemed to wash out of his system. "Finnian Brightfur..." he answered politely.

...and then, at great length, and with a measure of uncertainty, he added: "...sir!" That's how you were supposed to address people like him, right? It occurred to Finn that he didn't know anyone's names, but now didn't seem to be the time to ask questions.

His eyes looked Talinn up and down. He was definitely an olderbeast. Though Finn was taken a back a little when he knelt down, it did seem like a good sign that he wasn't overly stern. Maybe he'd find favor with the man.
 
Morgan's eyes widened at Talinn's disposition. She'd seen enough over the past few days to realized that she'd badly misjudged him at first, but to see him behaving almost paternal was, well, surprising. When Finnian added a peppy "sir!" to his introduction, Morgan smiled and nodded at him encouragingly, sneaking him a small thumbs up. The kit seemed genuinely good-natured, which Morgan hoped the captain would see. After all, he had tried to show her mercy, albeit in a convoluted way. She hoped that he would be similarly generous to this lost kit.
 
Talinn gave the kit a reassuring smile as even at his tender age he was showing proper respect, then nodded.

“And Finnian, how are you feeling? Are you ill? Hungry? Did you get a little lost and that is how you ended up on how our ship, or did some mean beasts chase you onto it?”

Unfortunately, judging by his age, Talinn was well aware that he was likely a street kit, and either had abusive parents or ones who were dead judging by how ramshackle he looked, so he avoided asking that question for now, although he would ask once he was more comfortable just in the event he was some poor misguided runaway or had living but impoverished parents. He could also, perhaps, be a war orphan? It had been ten years since the end of the Civil War, his father or mother could both have died during it or one and then the other struggling to make it. Either way, although the MinoNice was experimenting with a very basic welfare system for kits and the disabled, many still fell through the cracks.

@FinnianBrightfur @Morgan Liu
 
Finn's eyes were fixed on Talinn, but a vague motion in his peripheral vision caught his attention. His eyes broke away briefly, and caught a glimpse of Morgan's gesture, and his spirits soared.

The captain might have noticed a flicker of a smile spread across Finn's muzzle for just a heartbeat -- but Finn dared not hold it. For one, the situation was too serious. But for the other, he couldn't bear to have his hopes dashed. No sense in letting his spirits run away prematurely.

His attention snapped back to the captain as the questions started to come in. Finn never enjoyed the numerous questions adults had, but if anyone had the right to ask them, it was the captain. Finn shook his head no at Talinn's questions -- and in his mind, it was the truth. But his stomach was tied up in knots, and when he took a deep breath, you could count his ribs through his shirt. Still, he didn't seem to have fleas, at the very least. Nor did he appear injured. Though perhaps Talinn would need to take his word with a grain of salt.

But now was the moment of truth. How did he come aboard? The foxkit looked to Morgan for a hard moment. Was her story the better gambit? Finn hesitated to answer, and his face betrayed the internal conflict.

"No, I... I climbed up one of th'mooring lines. I was getting chased, because..." and here, his voice trailed off, and he looked positively ill. Finn had forgotten he'd fled the scene of a murder. Didn't even call for help, was only thinking of his own skin. The captain wouldn't want cowards like him aboard his ship.

At this, the kit burst into tears, and shamefully burried his face into his paws. Some poor beast lay dead in an alley, and here Finn was, still only thinking about saving his own skin.

But the burning question needed an answer. And though Finn felt wretched for doing so, he put the memory of the murder away in his mind. If he met his end here and now, what good would that do? Clenching his teeth, the kit collected himself well enough to force out an answer. "... 'cause I knew they wouldn't follow me onto a warship..." he blurted out, before being overwhelmed with sorrow once again.
 
Morgan's heart broke as Finn told a story that was too heartfelt to be anything but true. To be honest, it was better than the story she'd come up with. She wondered if, perhaps, the truth always was. As Finn broke down, she quietly stripped off her leather jacket, her most prized possession, and moved to drape it over the kit's shoulders. It was far too large for him, but she knew it was warm enough, and the hold was a cold place.
 
Talinn listened patiently to the young foxkit, hearing a story that he was all too familiar with over the years, and indeed one he sympathized with personally. Before the name Ryalor became synonymous with power, it was one that carried a death sentence, especially when he was around Finnian’s age, though few of the younger beasts serving on the ship would know this and even fewer would understand. And fear was so powerful when you were so young, not yet ravaged by the cruelties of the world and time. As Finnian burst into tears, quivering, he remembered his son Alwyn, in the few moments he had with him before their relationship had been severed, afraid of the night, coming to him looking much the same. And decided to do much the same as he did then.

Pulling Finnian close to him and giving him a hug after Morgan had given him the jacket, the Minister let the poor kit sob into his clothes, holding him tightly while telling him everything was going to be okay, until the sniffles died down a bit and the poor thing stopped quaking in fear. It was an extremely rare sight for the Duke, a perhaps one a million moment that showcased that, despite public impressions, he was still a beast at the end of the day.

Continuing softly, Talinn spoke once again.

“And, young Finnian, do you have any parents or relatives who might miss you? We cannot turn back now, but I could send a Misertrosse Gull to let them know you are okay, and when approximately we will return, barring unforeseen events.”

@FinnianBrightfur @Morgan Liu @Vihmastaja @Silvertongue Songfox
 
Finn's eyes were too blurred with tears to see what was going on. But he heard footsteps approaching, and recognized Morgan's jacket as it was placed on his shoulders. Finn clung to it instinctively, but was too ashamed to look up in thanks.

But then, the last thing he'd ever expected happened. Without hesitation, Finn buried his face into Talinn's side and wept quietly. If not for the coat over his shoulders, he'd have flung his arms around Talinn's neck -- but for now, a muddy brown paw would slip out to clutch at his coat.

He'd never be able to put these thoughts into words, but this hug was... Paternal. Finn just knew it. When Talinn said things would be alright, he meant it, and had put his reputation up as collateral. Somehow, against all odds, things really would be alright, wouldn't they? At Talinn's reassurance, he'd give a silent nod. He believed it.

It wouldn't take too long for Finn to regain control of his faculties. When the captain pulled away, the foxkit looked changed. Somber though he may be, he no longer carried the crushing shame or fear, and could finally look the others in the eye.

"No sir, 's just me..." he said softly, but clearly.
 
Morgan felt her eyes water, and it was hard for her to keep her composure. "Sir," she spoke softly, "permission to find a spot for him to bed with the crew? Silvertongue, Vihma, and I can look after him, sir. I'll happily split my rations to keep him fed."
 
Talinn felt the little kit’s anxiety ease, and, internally, a rare sense of joy was invoked in the older todd. He hardly ever got to do things he felt genuinely good about and that were not morally questionable at best. Sadly, though, the kit’s story was a common one, both on Westisle and in the Imperium proper. Many, many beasts had lost their parents through the tumultuous 1740s and 1750s before peace and order had been restored with the firm velvet glove of her Majesty and the sharp points of the swords of the beasts sworn to her. And, given the state of Finnian, the poor thing would likely have not survived much longer on the streets. Glancing closer at him as he hugged him, he took a moment to ruffle the headfur of the kit, and internally sighed at what he saw. A flea infestation, or at least the beginnings of one. That would have to be taken care of, posthaste. Essentially everywhere this little kit had gone would have to be meticulously scrubbed with special soap and they would likely have to throw away the apples. His own clothes would now have to be steamwashed and when he got back to his cabin he would have to apply his special MinoInn flea-killing ointments and such to himself, just to be careful.

Well, he looks to be about the age we could reasonably induct him into the Navy. I could give him some kind of more backlines job while he learns the basics of sailing and self-defense appropriate for her size. I know some rich or middle-class philosophers would be raising hell at the idea of kit soldiers but at least he has a chance to survive and learn some skills this way. Rejecting him and turning him back to the streets would mean certain death.

Talinn waved away Morgan again before speaking.

“No, Morgan, that will not be necessarily, I think. Finnian, how would you like a position on this ship? It will not pay well to begin with, but you will have food, you will have clothing, you will have medical care, and while the accommodations may not be the roomiest, you will always have some and protection from the weather.”

@FinnianBrightfur @Morgan Liu @Vihmastaja @Silvertongue Songfox
 
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