Expedition [Urk Climax #1]: The Long Watch

[Dusk Rainblade]

That, fortunately for Billy and Shorris, was the right answer. Tultow lowered his paw gently, calling to the marines. "LET THEM THROUGH! YOU TWO, TO THE BOATS, NOW. Chance of plans, lads!" he called to the marines, modulating his volume slightly. "Vihma, you've got the scope - if you see Stowett and Ryalor coming, you holler and point them out! We're going to hold this beach for as long as we can, and if they need us to carve them a path through, then that's what we'll do! We leave this beach with the minister, or not at all! Now - fire at will!" He gestured forward, and a volley rang out toward the approaching shrews, the marines hurrying to reload immediately after.

 

[Silvertongue Songfox]

Silvertongue grimaced as Swifttail and Finnian both defied him. "Saints, grant me strength." He thought to himself, putting the sword away.

"Please, just do as I say." He said quietly. "You don't want to lose me? I don't want to lose all of you." His voice started to waver. "You are all the most wonderful beasts I could have ever hoped to know... I would rather die a thousand deaths, than to see any one of you suffer any more than you already have!"

He looked up at Swifttail- "Please, just let me-"

"They're alive. They're comin'!" A voice shouted out, loud and clear, a knife slicing through Silvertongue's pleading.

If was if the weight of the world was lifted from his shoulders.

Silvertongue collapsed to the ground, sobbing. It was going to be over soon. They were going to make it. Adrenaline came rushing into his system, hitting like a tidal wave. He turned his head and he vomited on the snow. His chest heaved and he retched, until he had upended the entirety of his lunch, which mainly consisted of hard bread and coffee. Now, the pain of his arm- ignore and untreated, was searing through him like hellfire, and he struggled to stop himself from falling flat on his face.

 

[SwifttailTheFox]

Swifttail listened to Silvertongue speak, his paw slowly curling, tension running all the way up to his shoulder. Gates, he wanted to slap the sense back into him. It was the kind of impulse that came from watching somebeast you care about unravel right in front of you. A desperate frustration, seeing the normally cheerful todd in way over his head, trying to martyr himself like it wouldn't further abandon the surviving lower crew to even less leadership than it already had.

He took a breath, ready to snap back with a sharp retort, but the shout cut across the noise of the retreat like a cannon blast.

“THEY’RE ALIVE! THEY'RE COMIN'!”

Everything around him seemed to halt. Swifttail turned, ears up...Then Silvertongue crumpled. He dropped to the sand like the last thread had snapped, sobbing, retching, and folding in on himself.

Swifttail dropped beside him without thinking, reaching out to brace a paw on the bard’s shoulder.
“Hey. Silvie. Breathe, mate. You’re alright.”

He spoke as low and calm as he could, given the circumstances at paw.
“They’re comin’ back. You hear that? The inland party made it. You didn’t fail anybeast.”

Swifttail stayed put, steady and warm beside him.
“We ain’t done, but we’re not lost either. We need to finish getting this boat loaded, and we need your guidance to do it. Best not keep the captain waiting!"

 

[FinnianBrightfur]

Finny looked quite concerned as Silvie collapsed -- and would have rushed to aid the fox if not for the terrible retching noises he made as he lost his lunch. Finn could stand many gross things, but vomiting wasn't one of them!

Finn turned green beneath his fur, turned away and doubled over. "HURRK! Ahhh, gates Swift..."

Foxes looked so undignified when they made sidewalk pizzas. All bent in half, chin stuck out, ears pinned, eyes bulging and blinking. "HUUUUURRRRK!"

Unfortunately for Finn, he didn't have much food left in his tum, and wouldn't have much of an appetite for a little while now.

 

[Darragh Harper]

“H-here now, the doctor’s put you at the front of the queue,” Darragh joked, though the tremor in his voice betrayed him. The searat seemed too shocked after the battle to take much notice. It occurred to Darragh that this patient was a lot younger than he had at first supposed. He must have been perhaps just a few years older than himself, but the prosthetics, and the look in his remaining eye were those of a beast much older, and more world-weary. Darragh wondered if he would ever learn the searat’s name, and perhaps even his story.

There was a moment of anxious quiet in the tent, as Darragh wordlessly bandaged the searat under Doctor Barrett’s supervision. The cacophony outside shrieked and bellowed on, as though the battle itself were a gibbering many-voiced monste. Darragh could not make sense of it. Silvertongue had ordered a full retreat, hadn't he? Patients had been evacuated, supplies either abandoned or destroyed, and every familiar face seemed to have run off. Had somebeast been left behind? As a lowly Deckswab, Darragh had little idea of what had been planned, and had missed much of the drama taking place beyond the tent flap.

Flags draped over bodies sewn into their hammocks. Tents and crates stamped with the Imperial Navy crest burn on the beach. A shrew chieftain wearing a marine’s belt and boots too big for him, his children re-enacting the battle in play. The foebeast is driven back into the sea. In a few seasons time, we’ll just be the villains in a fireside story.

Darragh had to say something, or else he would be overwhelmed. He would collapse to the floor and weep and start babbling half-formed rhymes and sentimentalist imagery, and be of no use as either Poet or Practitioner. The throbbing bump on the back of his head prompted a question for him to focus on. He glanced at Doctor Barrett as he worked, and cleared his throat. “Is… will Kaii- will Mr. Nashirou be alright, Doctor?”

 

[Kaii Nashirou]

While Kaii was sobbing and very self-absorbed, primarily due to pain and self-hatred, his perception of the surroundings didn't stop. What he heard in the distance was... Swifttail. Yelling about what Kaii could only assume was inland party. Part of him relaxed, one that was responsible and duty-driven. If they were back then his task was fully complete and now he could suffer at least knowing that it didn't affect any beast. As long as his friends were safe, especially those he had sworn to protect, his pain mattered not.

Then he heard Darragh, the same one who assaulted him earlier, now asking if Kaii will be alright. Even at his worst however, Kaii could not be vengeful. Maybe Dar lacked tact and went to forceful act too hastily. Maybe Dar only now felt bad about his actions. It mattered not. Kaii once swore that while he has no ways of comprehending why beasts act irrationally so often, he won't hold it against them. Knowing that most beasts weren't able to shut off their emotions further fortified his acceptance.

The tonic he was given took the effect, both dampening his pain and mind alike. Thrown from being a slave of rationale to a slave of emotions he had now overwhelmingly felt. Hence why he continued to cry, even as he spoke not without trouble, but without thinking. "I don't... t-think I'll ever be." He finally managed between the sobs as he attempted to raise himself enough to see the surroundings. Failing quickly as his body was too weak to do that, yet nor giving up in the slightest.

 

[Arthur Barrett]

[ A little bit of time slurring here to line up Darragh's, Kaii's and Barrett's posts. ]

Barrett panted softly from fatigue as Darragh worked on Greeneye. The pine marten left the cotside for a moment and fetched a pitcher of water to drink from. Gates he was thirsty. Hungry too. He fetched a piece of hard tack from a basket in the tent and popped it in his mouth, before carrying another piece over for Darragh. "Here. Eat this. Keep your strength up..." he said, pushing the bread into the stoat's muzzle. This was one of the special hard tacks -- it had dates baked into it, and the sweetness would give the weary sailors a little energy boost.

Barrett leaned down to scoop Greeneye up into his arms. He was surprisingly strong for his age, and didn't seem to have any trouble moving beasts around. While Darragh ate, he carried the wounded beast to the nearest boat.

“Is… will Kaii- will Mr. Nashirou be alright, Doctor?”

"Mr. Nash-ee-roo? ...Is that how you say it?" he asked. He'd only heard it once, and... ...oh he was butchering that poor fox's name.

"I don't... t-think I'll ever be."

Barrett looked with sympathy at the bloodied marble fox. The beast had been pushed to his limit, Barrett wouldn't begrudge him his tears. Something about Kaii tugged at his heart strings -- though he'd never admit it publicly. The fox stuck his neck out for Morgan, and Barrett admired that. (Even if the disregard for procedure had driven him mad.) He even felt bad about how blunt he'd been with the fox in the moment... ...but he was a stodgy old git, and didn't say that out loud either.

"Of course you will be, Mr. Nashirou," he said with a brave, corageous tone. "You've still got to explain your lung draining device to the medical college. If you make me to present it to them, I'll never forgive you -- and I'll instead market it as a cough-ee percolater."

 

[Silvertongue Songfox]

Silvertongue had an awful taste in his mouth now. How fun. He grimaced and he shakily stood up, his expression a bit queasy. How was he supposed to keep on slinging orders after such a pathetic display? He had to, regardless. "Okay, new orders. We wait on the shore as long as we can for the Captain-"

He looked around. "Barret- the doctor isn't back yet- we must have more beasts in the medical tent still!" He turned around. He made to run towards the tents, but his legs wobbled, and he struggled to not fall over. The post adrenaline rush had turned his limbs into jelly.

 

[Shorris]

Shorris caught a brief flash of the soldiers' faces as she and Billy tore past the firing line. They were veteran and greenhorn alike, more of the latter by a good five-to-one.
And not a jack or jill of them breaking before the thundering horde fast crashing on them. For a long hard moment, she watched the boats bobbing in the Sea of Calamities, the distant Golden Hide riding at anchor beyond, sails already unreefed and bellied out under the sun like the silver-tipped wings of a heavenly chariot. Deliverance.

Then she looked at Billy, heaving, worn, passing the idol into the boat bearing among its refugees the fox they called Swifttail before falling to his knees and on his side in the sand. She did not see who helped him - the offering of a dozen paws was immediate and without a bit of hesitation.

Hellsteeth. Hellsteeth and claws. There, there was a fallen cutlass.
She couldn't believe it when she seized it and dashed back to join Lieutenant Tultow and his thin green line in the sand. No sooner had she taken a spot than the shrews' final attack crashed into the defenders with a resounding clang of blade on blade, shield against shield, bone against bone.

The blue shrew from before now stood above the others, held aloft in the background atop a shield borne by his comrades as he blocked arrows and slingstones with his own shield and squalled orders left and right. That wretch...

Shorris turned to Tultow. "Ye thinkin' wot I'm thinkin', Mister Tultow sir?"

 

[Gyles F. Stowett]

"Deuce of a party they're havin', ain't it."
They had no stretcher. The big ferret Brull was carrying the battered Minister, Yosha trying to help in any way she could but achieving little while carrying the head of Ulog he'd passed her. The fox was too awkward a burden in his slackened condition that no amount of poking, adjusting, and readjusting could compensate. It had been painstaking, and more than once Gyles had intervened to make the distance more quickly.

Gyles crouched on the hill outcropping between two dead tree trunks now and watched the battle on the distant shore with seemingly languid amusement, while inside the gears were whirring as a plan swiftly took shape. A cracked, desperate plan, of course. Sane alternatives were rarely of use to anyone. If it failed, well. She'd be waiting in Hellgates.

He looked at Talinn, then met Yosha's eyes, questioning. She nodded.
Still livin'. Demmed will on you, I'll give you that.
He motioned for the others to come closer. They leaned in.
"Nothin' for it, I'm afraid. We come at 'em with blades an' hurrahs an' the only place we're gettin' to in a hurry's the Devil's kitchen door." Gyles shook his head slowly. Yosha scratched her ear in puzzlement, but said nothing, waiting expectantly for him to continue. "No, a surprise's just what we need. Somethin' to blow the bristly bounders plum out of their braies so high we'll be through by the time they come down on their bottoms. As a wicked stroke of fortune would 'ave it, my dear Yosha," he winked, "you've just the ticket in paw."
He motioned to the lumpy bloodstained sack that was the last testament to Ulog the Savage.

The stoat officer drew his sword and pulled one ear. "If things go upside down. Never die without a blade or a brandy in your paw, you know. Won't do. 'Specially not in front of the Minister." He nodded his head at the unconscious Talinn. The soldier and medic stood straight as they could. They met his gaze firmly this time, determined to survive.
See you on t'other side, S.
"Righto. Quick's the word, eh."

 

[Kaii Nashirou]

Kaii laughed. Such a grotesque it was really. He squirmed from pain, cried from his failing mental state and yet he laughed.

“Sure. T-they ma-ay enjoy... Sob. En-joy. Talking wii… ith a living corpse.” He spoke out before chuckling again. Being unfiltered like that was in no way pleasant experience. One that he hated whenever it happened. Yet one he couldn’t in any way stop other that slipping into unconsciousness. And that was now prevented with that wonderful tonic.

Subjected to torments of his warring head, Kaii perched himself slightly by putting his arms and paws under his back. Lying on them was not comfortable, but it gave him ability to see anything beyond the boat.

 

[SwifttailTheFox]

Swifttail had only just stepped back from Silvertongue’s side when he caught the change in his voice. He was still shaken. Still struggling. But his tone had shifted. He no longer was going to blindly throw himself away, for now anyway... Swifttail let out a slow breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Maybe it wasn’t a perfect ending, but for now, it was enough.

That small relief didn’t last long, however.

The scrape of paws in the sand made him turn, just in time to see Billy stumbling toward the boat, ashen, breath ragged, and barely upright. Shambling past the silver fox, he deposited a shaped stone, glowing faintly from the moisture still infused within its pores, right next to him into the boat before collapsing at his paws into the fresh vomit Silvertongue had just left.

Swifttail’s heart slammed into his ribs.

He knew what it was before he even registered the details. The air felt wrong near it. The shape of it buzzed in the corner of his eye like something half-seen in a nightmare. No sane beast would touch it without some sort of heavy ultimatum.

"Gates, Finny! Get away from that thing!"

His voice cracked with urgency. He didn’t wait for an answer. He was already crouching down to Billy. Swifttail dropped to a knee beside him, careful not to even glance back at the idol again.

"Let’s get you away from that, mate," he said, paw settling lightly on Billy’s shoulder. "You’ve done plenty."

Whatever the thing was, it held too much power. He didn't understand why this artifact was so important for the Imperium to have, but he wasn’t about to let it claim another beast right in front of him. Best leave it for a beast better trained in it's safe containment, if any were still alive, to take it from here.