Expedition [Urk Climax #1]: The Long Watch

[Arthur Barrett]

Barrett was busy assisting with loading the wounded into boats when Billy came back with the idol. At first, he was preoccupied enough with his duties that he forgot the bulk of the campaign was resting on Silvertongue's shoulders. The pine marten lifted his head to look around, and saw the poor secretary vomiting onto the beach. Gates, that poor kit.

Only moments later, he realized the significance of what it meant for the idol to be near the boats. The away team must have returned -- but Arthur didn't hear Talinn barking orders like he expected. He searched a little further among the crowds of beasts, and Talinn was no where to be seen. Something about that set his teeth on edge. Something was wrong. There was no way the Minister would let the idol out of his sight.

Where was he?

"Darragh, with me..." he called out, crossing the beach to the trembling otter. Barrett recognized him as one of the prisoners who had the dubious honor of carrying the idol back. "You there, prisoner! Where is Captain Ryalor? What news of the away team?"

 

[Vihmastaja]

Vihma answered Tultow's first order in the typical navy fashion - a stiff "Aye aye!" from her position by the barricades. The next order needed no verbal response, her first bolt flying out for the shrews beyond with the reat of the marine volley.

Hers fell short, she thought - the weasel had set the scope's elevation to minimum, after all. With all the speed of a beast with time for only so many more shots, she reset her crossbow's tension and loaded the next bolt.

Thwack!

The weapon was noisy for what it was. With a zip through the air the bolt hit home, taking a charging shrew warrior through the throat, sending him falling in a gurgling mess.

Again...

Vihma wasn't as fast as the other marines, not trained on their weapons. But she had fewer bolts, their number beginning to dwindle as the shrews drew closer and closer yet, no sign of Stowett or the minister through her scope.

Then it was too late to look.

She loosed one last bolt as the shrews drew in, taking the time to sling the precious weapon over her wounded back before drawing steel. The battle became chaotic very quickly, Urk's hordes easily turning the defensive line into a confused melee as they tried to push them back into the sea.

The weasel hadn't time to think. Hacking away spears and slashing away war clubs, Vihma fought for her position as well as she could, though she fell back three steps for every one she tried to clear fowards. Tultow and other marines were still alive, still fighting, somewhere off to her side. Further still she saw another beast, one she didn't recognize, though she had cutlass in paw and fought the foe as fiercely as any. She was alone, having pushed too far, soon to be surrounded.

Vihma charged forth without hesitation, fighting to keep the path to her open. Spears nicked her fur, cut her uniform, threatening greater wounds before she could bat them away, sometimes slashing the enemy, sometimes thrusting for the kill. Her navy issue blade streaked red, almost steaming in the cold.

"T'me," she called, trying to be heard over the din of battle. She was breathing hard, tired before the battle had even begun, though her heart gave her all the blood and vigor it could, working hard to keep her alive in her moment of greatest peril.

"Be quick!"

 

[SwifttailTheFox]

With Silvertongue’s help, Swifttail managed to wrestle the big otter into the jolly boat, every movement tugging agonizingly on his damaged paw. He hissed quietly under his breath, shaking it out once they finally eased the otter into a seat, doing their best to make him as comfortable as a wooden bench on a rocking boat would allow.

That was when Barrett spoke. Swifttail stiffened, just slightly. He hadn’t stepped a paw near the brig since coming aboard. He had made a point of avoiding it. But stories got around. Two beasts kept below decks for the whole voyage out to Urk: Billy Clubbs and Shorris. So this had to be Billy, then...

He looked over the otter again. The gauntness. The sunken eyes. That withered frame barely holding shape. Whatever punishment he’d earned, it was clear he’d already been through hell.

Swifttail exhaled slowly. Doesn’t matter what he is, he’s not runnin’ anywhere. And no beast gets left behind.

He shifted back a step and looked to the shore, jaw tight, eyes scanning the surf. Where WAS the Minister, and his First Mate Gyles?

 

[Dusk Rainblade]

Tultow was caught up in the thick of it, his sabre flashing as he bellowed orders to the marines around him. Vihma, the Forest bless her for it, was fighting with a fervor that would have done any marine proud. He afforded himself a brief pang of guilt that she wouldn't be commemorated back in Bully Harbor with the appropriate honors. He and his men would be honored according to the young traditions of the marines; she would be be treated as just another navy beast. If we meet in the Forest, he resolved, I'll save a seat for you at our table.

Abruptly that one prisoner, Shor-something, charged past the line, diving into the melee with a verve and fire that briefly gave Tultow pause. That earned him a nick to the side, and he hissed, redoubling his efforts. Vihma, he saw, broke from the line to charge after the voluntary vanguard, heading for a shrew that, by virtue of size and ornamentation, had to be a chief of some sort. His heart leaped, recalling the reprieve that had been bought when the flame shrew had fallen. Perhaps...

"HOLD THE LINE!" he called to his men before charging forward himself, pushing through to follow after the two valiant femmes. It was a sea of blood and bone and teeth between him and their best hope for survival, but he fought through it with all his strength, with a strength he could feel slowly fading from his body as the gold worked its way out of his veins. It was too late for him now, he knew; once this mystery substance was gone, his body would collapse, perhaps never to rise again. He had to make the most of the time he had.

"FLANK HIM!" he called to Vihma and the other warrior, managing to push to the side around the chief. Perhaps felling him would be enough to save them all.