Greeneye walked ahead of the two beasts. This burnt out village, it reminded him of the raids his father did, but on a far larger and deadlier scale. One might think there'd be no survivors, but Greeneye knew from experience that you never killed them all the first time around. There were always stragglers.
Expedition [Urk Climax #1]: The Long Watch
- Thread starter Duke Talinn Ryalor
- Start date
- Influence
- 12,743.00
Swifttail managed a weak smile, the corners of his muzzle twitching as he looked up from the stake he’d just finished re-securing.
“Blame the frozen silt,” he muttered. “Won’t hold a stake straight to save its life.”
He straightened and took a few quiet steps closer, gaze drifting down to the wrapped form that Barrett had so carefully sewn. The humor faded from his face once again.
“You shouldn’t have to do all this alone,” he added gently. “I’m here. Just tell me what you need.”
“Blame the frozen silt,” he muttered. “Won’t hold a stake straight to save its life.”
He straightened and took a few quiet steps closer, gaze drifting down to the wrapped form that Barrett had so carefully sewn. The humor faded from his face once again.
“You shouldn’t have to do all this alone,” he added gently. “I’m here. Just tell me what you need.”
- Influence
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Tultow considered the kit before him, sizing him up. Still young, still small... but, against the shrews, that might actually be an advantage. "Very well," he allowed. "The first lesson you need to know, when up against a beast with superior range, is to keep to cover. These fortifications will save your life, and no amount of charging across the battlefield will save you. Rather, should the shrews come back, they will likely attack us from range to provide cover while the bulk of their forces advance upon us. No matter what, do not go out to meet them. Is that understood? Now," he continued, drawing his own blade, "let's find a small barrier, and I'm going to teach you how to hold position on a wall."
~ ~ ~
As Greeneye explored, there was a small sound from what of the wrecked huts. It was a slight shuffling, accompanied by a few plaintive, high-pitched squeaks.
~ ~ ~
As Greeneye explored, there was a small sound from what of the wrecked huts. It was a slight shuffling, accompanied by a few plaintive, high-pitched squeaks.
- Influence
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Vihma watched Greeneye walk further and further ahead, giving a bit of a sigh before she turned to answer Piper.
"If it were up t'me, no. I'm surprised 'e's even standing right now... it's from somethin' the Minister gave 'im."
Scanning the ruined townscape as they drew closer, the weasel took an arrow from her side quiver, holding it loosely nocked against her bowstring, ready for anything that might jump out at her or the others. She hadn't actually heard anything, or didn't think she had, but the memory of Honeytail lying bleeding in the snow was enough to stress caution.
"If it were up t'me, no. I'm surprised 'e's even standing right now... it's from somethin' the Minister gave 'im."
Scanning the ruined townscape as they drew closer, the weasel took an arrow from her side quiver, holding it loosely nocked against her bowstring, ready for anything that might jump out at her or the others. She hadn't actually heard anything, or didn't think she had, but the memory of Honeytail lying bleeding in the snow was enough to stress caution.
- Influence
- 4,430.00
Barrett sighed, and looked helplessly at the tent. It was set up well enough to be used, but how well would it fare in strong winds? The pine marten was uncertain of the forecast, and looked tense for a moment. If the tent collapsed in the middle of treating wounded, it could cost lives.
A frown returned to his face at the offering Swifttail made, and his hackles involuntarily raised. Though the fox was expressing a kindness, the stress of setting up the infirmary and the recent loss of the marine blinded him. All he could see was the intrusion on his duties. "The tent, if you please, Mr. Fairpaws!" he said curtly, shooting a harsh look at the fox.
The pine marten put several stitches in the hammock, too proud to admit what had just happened, but after a few moments, he softened.
"The tent is critical infrastructure. It mustn't collapse should the weather turn foul. I would greatly appreciate if you would..."
And he softened again. Swift and Kai had both come in to help save Morgan. The fox didn't mean anything by it, he was a good sort. "...the tent can wait a few minutes. Would you like to help lay Honeytail to rest?" he asked, offering the fox the needle and thread.
A frown returned to his face at the offering Swifttail made, and his hackles involuntarily raised. Though the fox was expressing a kindness, the stress of setting up the infirmary and the recent loss of the marine blinded him. All he could see was the intrusion on his duties. "The tent, if you please, Mr. Fairpaws!" he said curtly, shooting a harsh look at the fox.
The pine marten put several stitches in the hammock, too proud to admit what had just happened, but after a few moments, he softened.
"The tent is critical infrastructure. It mustn't collapse should the weather turn foul. I would greatly appreciate if you would..."
And he softened again. Swift and Kai had both come in to help save Morgan. The fox didn't mean anything by it, he was a good sort. "...the tent can wait a few minutes. Would you like to help lay Honeytail to rest?" he asked, offering the fox the needle and thread.
- Influence
- 17,374.00
Finn listened intently -- and nodded as if he understood. Charging a bow and arrow was foolhardy, and Finn had no desire to meet his end.
The activity helped keep his mind off the recent death of Honeytail, and his tail gave the tiniest wag as he scooped a stick off the ground and chased after Tultow.
The activity helped keep his mind off the recent death of Honeytail, and his tail gave the tiniest wag as he scooped a stick off the ground and chased after Tultow.
- Influence
- 1,899.00
Tultow schooled Finn in the basics of how to hide behind cover, how to use a hat or helmet on a stick to test for sharpshooters, how to stab down at an opponent from the high ground while protecting oneself, and as much as he could of basic swordsmanship. It was all too little, Tultow knew. He'd seen far braver and more competent beasts than this kit fall to truly senseless deaths, moments that should have been seen and avoided.
"There's one more lesson, lad," he added, kneeling down to speak to Finn on his level. "When your commander tells you to turn back and run, you turn and run. No heroic last stands, no making yourself a martyr for the songs to sing about. Dying pointlessly doesn't help your comrades. They might need you a minute, an hour, a day from now to save their lives. Dying for glory is the most foolish, selfish thing a soldier can do."
~ ~ ~
The interior of the hut was a wreck; the ceiling had caved in, leaving the floor covered with rubble and debris, and part of the ceiling smoldering where it had fallen into a cooking fire. There was a form on the ground, and movement, and blood. On closer inspection, the blood belonged to the body of a shrew dressed in a warm parka of a distinct style from those the warriors had worn, perhaps indicating a distinct social role or gender. It had apparently designated the shrew to be impaled by a falling support beam as a cannonball had ripped through the structure of the house. The squeaking noise that had drawn Greeneye's attention came from a small bundle still resting in the shrew's arms, tiny paws flailing as they fruitlessly worked at their caregiver's parka, perhaps seeking attention, or to shake them awake from a slumber they would never escape.
"What is it?" Piper called from outside, adjusting her crossbow and removing the safety, even as she kept it pointed at the ground for now.
"There's one more lesson, lad," he added, kneeling down to speak to Finn on his level. "When your commander tells you to turn back and run, you turn and run. No heroic last stands, no making yourself a martyr for the songs to sing about. Dying pointlessly doesn't help your comrades. They might need you a minute, an hour, a day from now to save their lives. Dying for glory is the most foolish, selfish thing a soldier can do."
~ ~ ~
The interior of the hut was a wreck; the ceiling had caved in, leaving the floor covered with rubble and debris, and part of the ceiling smoldering where it had fallen into a cooking fire. There was a form on the ground, and movement, and blood. On closer inspection, the blood belonged to the body of a shrew dressed in a warm parka of a distinct style from those the warriors had worn, perhaps indicating a distinct social role or gender. It had apparently designated the shrew to be impaled by a falling support beam as a cannonball had ripped through the structure of the house. The squeaking noise that had drawn Greeneye's attention came from a small bundle still resting in the shrew's arms, tiny paws flailing as they fruitlessly worked at their caregiver's parka, perhaps seeking attention, or to shake them awake from a slumber they would never escape.
"What is it?" Piper called from outside, adjusting her crossbow and removing the safety, even as she kept it pointed at the ground for now.
Greeneye froze in place. He was no stranger to these sorts of scenes. He had been raised among pirates. This fact did not stop the wave of coldness that suddenly racked his body, a different chill from the one caused by their icy environment. He didn’t answer when Piper first called out. This is the last thing they needed to deal with right now. Was it cruel to leave this child to its fate? The cold would likely take it before hunger would. That was the only consolation Greeneye could think of. The emotional burden would be too much for the others to bear, not to mention having another mouth to feed.
After a few minutes, he composed himself, and he turned away from the tragic scene which laid before him, walking out of the hut. He just silently hoped that no one else would hear the childs’ cries.
“It’s nothing.” He called out to Piper and Vihma. “I wouldn’t go in there, though. It’s a grisly scene.”
After a few minutes, he composed himself, and he turned away from the tragic scene which laid before him, walking out of the hut. He just silently hoped that no one else would hear the childs’ cries.
“It’s nothing.” He called out to Piper and Vihma. “I wouldn’t go in there, though. It’s a grisly scene.”
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