Expedition [Urk Climax #1]: The Long Watch

[Duke Talinn Ryalor]

OOC: This is the main shore party thread where the major events will occur, but Urk proper is now open for side adventures and other things, such as detailing the landing and the initial finding of the state of the village, the construction of the camp, scouting parties, character introductions, et cetera.

Talinn stood with his first mate, Gyles, a small complement of marines, and the selected prisoners on a small hill overlooking the burned and shattered remains of the shrew village, observing the hurried, makeshift encampment that the beasts of the Hide had erected in its place. He had ordered it be laid out in the most defensible manner he thought possible, tight and with concentric layers of defense already under construction in order to help ward off a possible massive shrew assault and a field of fire beyond them so that their true home could open up fire and thin their ranks somewhat before they were able to engage in melee, although he hoped that they would be able to achieve their objective and then simply leave before the natives had a chance to regroup and attack. He was careful about the lives of those under his command.

The first line of defense under construction was a simple, but effective, shallow trench concealed by cloth upon which snow had been carefully sprinkled, leading to a pit of spikes below, with small paths of actual ground running between it and subtly marked with stones in order for scouts and foraging parties to walk through unharmed, and the widest of the three lines. The second layer of defense, smaller and tighter than the first line, was a hastily constructed low wall made out of debris, packed earth, and whatever they could find, where the main assault of the shrews would hopefully be stopped at. Finally, the third and last line of defense, the tightest, was composed of a small moat from the diverted river running through the camp, a single hastily constructed wooden bridge upon it. Behind that lay the various supply tents, medical tent, and, of course, what all of this was meant to protect: the landing boats, which they would need to escape at the end of the day.

He hoped it would all be enough, and that the officer he had left in command, Lieutenant Tultow of the Marines, would be able to hold the line would be able to maintain the necessary order and discipline would be able to keep them all organized, or, failing that, that some beasts would prove their courage and might through combat. Nodding at Gyles, the Minister of Innovation turned, and began to head towards their main objective.

 

[Duchess Dusk Rainblade]

Tultow hadn't seen the shrew hiding among the ruins. If he had, he would have shouted and warned Corporal Honeytail before he'd passed between the charred husks of the huts. All Tultow had time to do was yell in alarm as the shrew had leaped from cover and drove its bone dagger into the ferret's throat. A volley from the other marines' crossbows had taken down the shrew in a moment, but the damage was done. Tultow has run to the Corporal's side, and hadn't even felt the ferret's weight as he dragged him back into the camp. "Hold on, blast it," he adamantly ordered the ferret, trying to keep down the panic in his voice. It couldn't end like this, it just couldn't, where was that blasted medic-

Honeytail stopped choking and went still, his eyes turning unfocused and glassy. Tultow stopped in crossing the barricades, his heart seeming to stop as well, time freezing in that moment. Finally, as he came back to reality, he slowly lowered the ferret's torso to the ground, closing his eyes with a pass of the pawfingers. The marines gathered about looked on somberly, removing hats and helmets in respect for their fallen comrade. None looked directly at the Lieutenant; as subtle as Tultow and Honeytail had kept their involvement, in a tight-knit unit like theirs, such things were still bound to be noticed. None would dare to intrude upon the Lieutenant's mourning in this time.

The Lieutenant knelt with Honeytail's head in his lap, letting the grief wash over him, before he finally lowered his fallen comrade's head to the ground and stood. He took a long, deep breath, bracing himself in the frigid air, and turned to face the crew of the Hide. "We're in enemy territory now, gents," he addressed the group, ignoring that, technically speaking, there were several femmes among the group as well. "We cannot let our guard slip for a moment. Behind every rock and ledge out there, those blasted shrews could be lurking, waiting to pick us off one by one. We must be vigilant, and proceed with caution. If you must venture, then venture in groups for mutual protection. Watch each other's backs, and return well before sunset. Darkness is our adversary here, and we shall need strength in numbers if we are to survive the fall of night." He hesitated before adding, more softly, "one casualty is already too many. Let's not add any more."

 

[Vihmastaja]

Vihma had tried to stay with the marines. Tultow and his beasts had helped pull her and Gyles out of the drink, given her a blanket to warm herself - she was thankful for that. They had a sort of camaraderie she felt jealous of. The Hide was a big ship with a big crew. The marines were only a small part of it.

An outsider of sorts, she still felt the loss of the corporal. Of course, she hadn't known Honeytail at all. But she could see he meant a great deal to the lieutenant, and that the marines had lost one of their own. It made her think of Morgan, how she was recovering, hopefully, from the injuries she'd taken at the hands of the shrews earlier. That ferret could have been her, instead. Slain in an ambush before there was time to react. Stabbed in the throat, not even left the chance for parting words.

The weasel breathed fury through the cloth wrapped around her muzzle and face. She'd sworn off exposure to the cold last time she'd been near the island - back on the Valdez. They'd lost good beasts then, too.

She gripped her bow more tightly, raising her head to try and speak to the stoat lieutenant. Her face couldn't really be seen under the well-worn rags she'd covered herself with - significantly more camouflage than her tawny and orange fur would have presented, only undercut by her navy blue uniform.

"Sir, permission t'scout ahead in the village - mebbe find where the spikebacks are hiding..."

Vihma would have been surprised at herself, risking her neck like she was, getting riled up for a beast she hadn't even known. But the weasel felt a fury in her heart that perhaps only blood could soothe. It didn't matter to her that the shrew's village had been destroyed already, didn't quite register. They'd hurt beasts who'd helped her. What was she supposed to feel?