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.

 

[Gyles F. Stowett]

Shorris snapped her head to the weasel's cry. One of the beasts the Minister had punished before...she'd heard the mutters and whispers passed through the crew about her - Dimmastagga, they called her, she was sure of it. She howled above the clangor of battle, "I'm blocked in! Make yer way ter me!"

Tultow broke through the line, then, roaring orders and slaying up and down; a true berserker, the like of which the sagas were sung. She stopped mid-stroke in the grip of awe, her breath caught in her throat, watching the leader of beasts standing tall despite incredible wounds from ears to tail; taking another blow then, swinging out with his blade another moment yet.

Shorris turned just in time to redirect the path of an honor guard's spear as she dove into action, following the lieutenant's lead and moving to flank the shrew chieftain, praying the other weasel made it through to join her as the shrew guards closed in.

 

[Gyles F. Stowett]

"They're...they're comin'," Billy repeated, numb, reassuring himself as much as Barret that the Minister and plucky officer had survived. "Somethin' attacked us...a beast. A monster. Somethin'... a devil." He shook his head slowly, trying to come to grips with the memory, with the horror. A blur of roaring teeth and claws flying through a half-dozen hardened marine veterans like a bowling ball among so many ninepins.
"I...couldn't tell ye as rightly wot."
He stared distantly at the rolling oil-dark sea.
"They told us to go ahead, save that rock, don't look back..." He swallowed painfully.
"They're comin'. I know it."

 

[Arthur Barrett]

Arthur's face curled into a snarl, and he spat into the sand of the shores. "Lies! How can I trust anything you say?" he growled. "You're completely uninjured, don't take me for a fool! I'm not falling for your ruse!" Barret let out a grunt of frustration, and spun on his heel to grab the idol to menace the otter with it. The crew was greatly superstitious about the rock, and perhaps he coul--

Arthur froze as he laid his paw on the idol. It was warm. Hot, even. It felt as if a swarm of spiders were crawling over the surface of his palm, and he recoiled in shock as a sour taste spattered in his mouth. "Hell's teeth..." he mumbled, shocked to silence.

Eventually, he turned back to Billy, and loomed over him. Soaked in blood, and looming head and shoulders above most of the other beasts, the pine marten was a formidable sight. He had considered grabbing the otter by the collar -- but there had been enough dramatics already, and he didn't intend to add to it*.

"You and the other prisoner left with over a dozen marines, where are they? What have you done with them?" he barked. And yet... Barrett couldn't figure out what motive the otter would have to lie. Why would he return with the idol? Why not claim Gyles and the Minister were dead?

* His back was also aching something fierce, and Barrett wanted to avoid behding over to lift heavy things if he could.

 

[Vihmastaja]

Vihma didn't reply to either Shorris's cry or Tultow's order. There wasn't the space to, in a sense. With shrews on her left, her right, and ahead of her, she couldn't muster the concentration to shout back a response, busy trying to keep her lifeblood within her veins.

Still, the weasel could hear what was said, what was desired of her, and so she slashed her way towards Shorris, finding herself on the flank of what she could assume was an important shrew of some sort.

Blinking blood from her eyes, and breathing hard, she found the momentary respite - won by the other weasel's efforts - to strike out at the beast with her navy cutlass, hoping if nothing else to occupy his attention as Tultow came around the other way.

 

[Darragh Harper]

Darragh stood beside Barrett, staring at Billy. The look the stoat was giving the otter was hard to interpret. Was it suspicion? Fury? Perhaps even empathy towards what Billy had endured? In actual fact, it was none of these. It was nothing at all.

Barrett had bundled away the injured searat the moment Darragh was done bandaging him. His duties as a paper-thin replacement for a doctor complete, his mind was left with nothing but the enormous grisly pile of trauma it needed to chew over in preparation for the next month’s worth of nightmares. Darragh felt as if all his emotions were floating freely in the aether above the world, waiting to come crashing down and smothering him.

Looking past the distraught otter, Darragh noticed there was a huge black wolf in the boat. As though he was in a trance, the young stoat tottered forward, his eyes wide in disbelief. The wolf loomed over the wounded, licking strands of drool from its lips. It turned its glowing blue eyes on Darragh, and smiled horribly.

You look like a tasty scrap of meat to get caught in my teeth.

“…We shouldn’t have taken you,” Darragh whispered. “You belong to the shrews.”

The wolf seemed to fill his vision. Every strand of its black fur seemed to end in a glowing needle-point that pierced through Darragh’s jacket, his fur, his skin.

I belong to whoever has the stomach to use my power. I am power. There is no right or wrong. Only strength. Tonight, your side was stronger. Hmph. Barely.

“What are you, really?” Darragh muttered. For the moment, Barrett’s angry barking was drowned out, as Darragh’s ears were filled with a horrid metallic clicking noise, like the call of some nasty, poisonous cricket. The wolf raised its snout to the sky and howled, but Darragh couldn’t hear it. On an impulse, the young stoat reached out one small, white paw, and touched it.

Darragh blinked. His outstretched fingerpads were touching the smooth, black surface of a stone idol, carved into the shape of a wolf, with dead, black eyes.

 

[Kaii Nashirou]

Kaii observed as Silvertongue given in and put the idol near him. His rationale was in charge now and was very satisfied with this outcome. All while his emotions were burning with self-hatred and he himself was stuck observing in shock. If there was anything good coming from his mind once more taking control, it was ability to withstand pain more easily.

Not having much better to do, Kaii observed the action around. Barrett managing the wounded newcomers, Swift doing the same. Marines fighting in a distance... Apparent lack of the captain and the Minister. Kaii started pondering already how to help locating them. Maybe trying to use mirrors and various lenses they had...

His attention was brought to Darr. Stepping to the boat. His muscle tensed as he still remembered an assault from moments earlier. But Darragh just spoke to the idol. Coherently, as if having a conversation with it. Kaii could not understand at all why he was doing it, sure he sometimes talked to items but it was monologue, not conversation. Here however? Darr seemed to be hearing words from it, at least he acted as such. Then he touched it, before his expression finally became more reasonable to Kaii.

"You. Okay?" Kaii asked slowly, still having to deal with pain as he lied there with Finny who tried to help him. There was no fire, nor ice behind his words. But there was caution. This beast attacked him, now acted insane. Kaii had to be vigilant, even as he was far to weak to do anything but stare.

 

[Dusk Rainblade]

Tultow felt his heart racing with excitement and adrenaline as he, Vihma, and Shorris closed in on the chief. The honor guard surrounding him was a problem to be sure, but in truth, Tultow worried less about them than the impending sense of fatigue beginning to creep into him: the crash that followed the high, the moment that exertion tipped into overexertion and then slingshot straight into exhaustion. He had maybe a minute before his body would fail him, and he couldn't afford to waste a moment. He didn't try to play fair; as one of the honor guard turned to engage him, Tultow slashed at the beast's arm, leaving a gash and a bloodied spear on the rocky beach.

Tultow pressed on, not even engaging with the disarmed beast anymore. He charged forward to swipe madly at the chief's back, aiming for the legs, the tail, the shoulders, anyplace that would hurt. It was less precision than persistence, hoping that he could at least draw the chief's attention away from the femmes, give them an opening with which to strike and, hopefully, bring this fight, and this battle with it, to a close.

 

[SwifttailTheFox]

Swifttail sat slumped among the injured and the exhausted, his breath shallow, ears twitching at every distant shout and rising clash. The sounds of the battle were growing louder and closer. The wind shifted, and he could taste smoke on it. His paw throbbed, his muscles ached, but his mind refused to rest. Too much noise. Too many unknowns. Every instinct screamed move, but there was nowhere left to run that didn’t condemn the fighters, captain and first mate to death by cannibalistic shrew.

Then Billy spoke, low and rough, but clear enough to carry. Talinn and Gyles. They were coming back! Swifttail’s eyes widened, and a flicker of hope surged through his chest. But that flicker died the moment his eyes slid to the bow of the jolly boat... Darragh stood there, paw outstretched, touching the idol...

Swifttail shrieked. He lunged forward on instinct, shoving himself across the boat’s boards, ignoring the scream of his battered limbs. His paw wrapped tight around Darragh’s wrist, yanking it back....

...And in the process, he touched the idol...

It was warm, like blood. A strange tingle danced under his flesh, the fur on his arm prickling in alarm as something, not pain, but very much not right, bloomed at the edge of his senses. He recoiled fast, eyes wide.

"Gates! Everybeast stop touching the cursed thing!" he shouted, his voice sharp and cracking. "Is there a crate or a barrel we can chuck it in?"

He looked around, wild-eyed now, as if expecting the idol to come alive and bite them. They needed to contain it, and fast.

 

[Kaii Nashirou]

Kaii now looked at Swift, he too was behaving insane. Such reaction was uncalled for. Why was he so scared of this idol? The reaction to touching it was vastly different than one of Darr... albeit more similar to one of Silvie. But they were all very emotional about it. Empirically, this item could be causing some discomfort and thus such strong reaction but... Silvertongue held it. So did those who came with it. Darr didn't lash out either.

It was a phenomenal thing, one that was artistic, even if crude. One that had something that made minister desire it while bringing apparent pain and discomfort to many. Kaii wished to be able to move now so badly, just to touch the thing and see for himself. Alas, while he was still controlled by his mind, rationality won this time and made him wait, observing and inquiring as measurements could wait.

"Swift." Kaii spoke through clenched teeth as plain as before. "Panic. Consumed. You." He took a deep breath. "Focus. We. Still. Need. You." He finished. And now just gazed. A last thing that was now needed was Swifttail succumbing to panic. Especially as Silvertongue was still there and Kaii knew already these two had a bond that made them codependent. Both todds were needed in his mind, not just as pieces of command structure but also as his friends.

 

[Silvertongue Songfox]

Silvertongue had barely managed to help the otter into a boat when there was more shouting. The idol. Silvertongue's head pounded just looking at it. There was too much chaos all around him. Noise, stench, pain... Another wave of adrenaline came surging through Silvertongue's body like a tidal wave, and his legs wobbled. He collapsed onto his knees in the boat, not even noticing that Greeneye had been dragged into a seperate boat. His vision blurred, and stars danced in his eyes. He was barely able to keep himself from collapsing in the boat, right then and there. He gasped for air, taking quick panicked breaths. It was all too much for him to handle.

 

[Darragh Harper]

Darragh nodded at Kaii, a faintly confused look on his face as reality reasserted itself, his pawpads unnaturally warmed by the black stone wolf. He wasn’t sure why Kaii was worried about him - after all, it was the marble fox that was battling terrible injuries, medical malpractice, and some kind of personal epiphany about his friends Silvertongue and Swifttail, the details of which poor ignorant Darragh could only speculate. Then again, Darragh supposed he had been acting a little strange.

Oh, right. He had been talking to the wolf. This made perfect sense in the spiritual, symbolic, and transcendental world that Darragh could occasionally glimpse. Nobeast else beside him seemed to see beyond the rational and the material world, though. It wasn’t exactly easy to talk about either - Darragh hated being looked at like a mad beast, or worse - a religious one.

“I’m alrigh-” Darragh began. Then Swifttail was upon him, eyes wide, his face contorted with horror and distress. The stoat was left speechless and stammering, as Swifttail yanked his paw away from the idol. His fur stood on end as the fox shouted, his ears flattening to his head.

“Aye-aye! I’ll find somethin’!” Darragh shouted back, throwing Swifttail a quick tug of his hat before scurrying off. The idol was, admittedly, fascinating, but every moment the crew spent worrying about it, the closer they came to the final threads of their composure snapping.

It wasn’t long before Darragh found a suitable improvised solution. A small tent, only half-completed, leaning at a crazy angle. He drew his cutlass; with a few quick swipes, he cut the guy ropes, and bundled up the thick canvas. Returning to the boat, Darragh spread the canvas and tossed it over the idol. He then took the guy ropes and lashed them around the oddly-shaped canvas silhouette of the wolf, tying the whole thing up tightly, with Navy-regulation knots. Finally, he withdrew his piece of writing charcoal from his pocket, and scrawled across the wolf’s nose.

CAUTION
EVIL
DO NOT TOUCH!​

Darragh tucked away his charcoal, and patted Swifttail’s shoulder. “Objective secured an’ stowed for transport! Er…”

It was only then that Darragh noticed that the last thread had indeed snapped for Silvertongue. His whiskers drooped - Silvertongue had really been coming into his own as a commanding officer, but there had been only so much of this nightmare he could take. They could hear the marines fighting and dying for them out there, while all they could do was lick their wounds and wait for some sign that the captain and the first mate yet lived. That was enough to break anybeast's spirits, but it was Silvertongue suffering the pressure of having to make the call that could mean life or death for them all.

"Mr. Swifttail I think you better try to do somethin' for Mr. Songfox," Darragh suggested with a thoughtful frown. "Maybe your reassurance can snap him out of his, er... conniption? Try givin' him a hug. Or a slap. Erm... better try the gentler option first, aye?"

The stoat took a deep breath, and turned to the next highest authority figure in sight.

“Doctor Barrett, we’re running out of officers,” Darragh reported, a look of grim determination on his face. “What’s our next course of action?”

 

[SwifttailTheFox]

Swifttail watched Darragh with a tangle of feelings in his chest. Tension still coiled tight in his spine, but something softer blooming underneath it.

He was grateful. Deeply so.

Swifttail hated yanking him away like a misbehaving dibbun caught stealing candied nuts, but it had worked. Whatever spell the idol had held over Darragh broke, and now the cursed thing was finally bundled up. Swifttail caught a glimpse of the message as Darragh tied off the cloth. His paw hovered for a moment, almost reaching to squeeze the stoat’s shoulder. But Darragh had already turned, eyes fixed on something else.

Silvertongue.

Swifttail followed his gaze, and was already moving before the words left Darragh’s mouth, Kaii's plea ringing in his ears.

He ducked low beside the bard, grabbing a canteen that had rolled against the side of the boat. Silvertongue’s eyes were distant, his breathing rapid. Swifttail winced and slid an arm behind his shoulders, gently cradling the fox’s head.

"Oi, oi! Silvie. It’s okay, it’s okay."

He plucked the floppy blue hat from where it had tumbled beside them and used it to fan the bard slowly, coaxing a little air back into his lungs.

"Here. Sip this and breathe."

He held the canteen to Silvertongue’s lips, trying to steady the tremble in his own paws.

 

[Gyles F. Stowett]

The big, musclebound beast Billy had once been was a whisper on the wind. In his heyday - had it only been months ago? - he would have dwarfed the marten doctor. He could've taken him then, he thought to himself as the natural fighter's instinct to size this brash creature up took hold, and likely would have wanted to. Not anymore. Not after.
He didn't know what he wanted now. To be free. Aye, maybe that.
"Don't want t' fight...nobeast. I tole ye. They're alive. They're comin'." The big bent frame heaved. Tears streaked the weathered gaunt cheeks when he looked up to meet Barrett's eyes with his own, hard and determined. "We need... need t' leave this place...with them. 'Tis cursed."

 

[Arthur Barrett]

A dangerous fury flashed in Barrett's eyes. The sniveling otter was evading his questions, and trying to get them to leave. The coward's only looking to save his own skin. The pine marten viciously jerked as if to throttle the beast -- but the weighty eyes of the crew gave him pause. Gates, why were they all staring at him?

As Arthur's perspective broadened, he took stock of the situation. Silvertongue was down, and Darragh's words echoed in his ears. Though the situation warranted a beating, the fragile morale couldn't endure the violence. Barrett seethed as a new energy flooded his weary body. The Hide needed a leader.

First things first. Bolster morale. Barrett stood to his full height, and flexed his aching shoulders. Old beast as he was, he still knew how to have a commanding presence. "You there -- the boat with our dead. No sense waiting here on Urk. Our boys have done enough, it's time they went home." Grim as the topic was, there was a tenderness lying beneath his gruff voice. "Row them back to the Hide, and then return on the double. Bring along four new rowers with you from the Hide, we need strong beasts. Quick like!"

Turning to the remaining beasts, he paused. Internally, he was scrambling to find something to say. The crew had to be asking themselves the same question Billy was: why wait any longer? Why not leave now? Barrett had to find something to say to inspire them to stay just a little longer -- but words failed him. And so, Arthur did what he always did when he needed inspiration. He studied the crew intently, meeting their gaze individually. A deep affection soon surged in his chest.

Raising his voice loud and clear, Barrett addressed the weary crew. "Out on the ramparts, Tultow and his marines are holding the line!" he declared, giving the words a moment to sink in. "They've pledged their lives for our escape -- that we all might see Bully again. All of us! From the Captain and First Mate, down to the lowest deckswab!" The pine marten searched the eyes of the crew, desperate to know if the seabeasts were with him.

"Our captain has yet to return with his men, but the marines are still holding the line!" Barrett's voice surged to a roar as he pressed the crew with a question. "WILL WE LET THEIR SACRIFICE BE FOR NAUGHT?"

 

[Silvertongue Songfox]

Silvertongue looked over at Swifttail, his eyes staring a thousand miles away. His gaze slowly focused onto his fellow fox, and he grasped the canteen in his paws, bringing it to his lips and greedily drinking its contents.

“Th-thank you, Swifttail.” He gasped out, taking his hat and standing up once more. He stood besides Barrett, looking out at the crew.

“I know that this is scary, for all of us. Many of us are wounded, tired, or worse. But too many beasts have died for us to give up hope.” His voice cracked a bit. “We have to wait- and fight if we must- for the Captain to return.” He looked at Barrett. “Until the bloody, bitter end.”

 

[Shorris]

Shorris bit deep into the shrew guard's ear, refusing to relinquish her hold as the tough warrior fought tooth and claw to free itself, finally tearing away and spitting the severed skin and cartilage at the foebeast. "Howsit feel ter be on the menu fer a change? Haharr!"

Her body burned white-hot from a dozen cuts and slashes and throbbed from as many bruises where a rib had been broken, tail bent, or joint displaced from socket. None of it mattered. He was still alive, the blue bugger, and she was not going to let him get away with the hurt he and his cannibal flock had done her Billy.

The blue chieftain backed further away, putting every guard between himself and the three brave creatures cutting their way through to him. His mouth hung open in shock as they invariably pushed forward, unstopped by glancing spear graze and cudgel strike.

Even as the shrew horde were overrunning the beachhead, he was fighting a losing battle against his singleminded pursuers as one guard, then another, fell slain. Through the hedge of blades and forms, Shorris caught his eyes darting nervously over his shoulder. He had decided it was time to break and flee.

Shorris gave a frustrated yell and sent another shrew to Hellgates, or Ulog, or whatever awaited them below as the shrewchief turned and broke into a mad dash away from the fight.

"Come on! We got t' gettim, cut off their 'ead- " Thwak!

A big flat river slingstone struck her between the eyes.

The ground rushed up to embrace her.