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Post by Terragon Scrufftail on Aug 9, 2006 17:11:48 GMT
Well, y'see, it tells in one of the myths of a great city, filled with artic monsters called bears; I heard it back in Redwall by some ol' story-telling creature, and it goes something like this... 'Tis snowing upon this winters night, Which hides the blessed earth from sight, Like an eve' in legends I've heard told, When the day was gone and the darkness cold.
'Twas snowing that night in Seladare, And all creatures still save Celte the bear, Who was ordered march, kill by his master, And did all this while the snow fell faster.
The Lord, the King, he did kill, While the frosty night lingered still, And so he fled upon the dawn, And back this murd'rous news was born.
And so the royal King is dead, His princely son gone and fled, To beyond the mountains of the skies, And in dark bleakness Seladare lies.
Will not one of courage come, And then The Eagle's promise done? Will no one this evil come before, To free us all for evermore? [/center] *Terragon pauses.* I remember that poem, the prologue best. The story I found hard to inturpret (sp?) then. OOC: Modified to fit a Redwall-ish theme. The original is dragons and stuff... I prefer it like that.
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Post by Geordie Brushtail on Aug 9, 2006 21:24:44 GMT
*Geordie nods thoughtfully as he digests the information in the poem.* Doesnae seem loike a vera brave sort, that prince...if'n tha Laird was killed, Ah wouldnae rest till Ah foun' his murtherers...
*Geordie stands up and heads to the door. He pauses in the door frame, looking back over his shoulder.* Ah think we best get abo'e decks, lass, afore Ash runs us agroon' or somat.
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Post by Terragon Scrufftail on Aug 10, 2006 8:31:44 GMT
*Terragon frowns slightly at Geordie's comment.* I dunno. *She murmurs finally, and looks up to find the other squirrel going without her. She catches up, and at the mention of Ashnel shruggs.* He claims he knows what he's doing. *Terragon says, as though this needs no further questioning. All the same, as she clambers out into the sunlight she glances around to check where they're headed.* We'll be arriving just after dusk, Terra'. *The dark squirrel calls down from the fore castle. He ropes a passing squirrel (quite literally) into taking his place at the wheel. Ashnel joins the other two, and greets them in a grave undertone.* News spreads fast. Orion, he's... *He trails off, and takes Terragon's glare as an answer.* Right. Anyhow, everybeast else is taking turns steering, and I think I may have got myself a break from it.
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Post by Terragon Scrufftail on Sept 1, 2006 19:35:25 GMT
OOC: Again, apologies for the double post. And, if there's no objections, I'll advance the quest.
BIC: *A few hours after noon finds the ship, newly named "The Windwhiffler" by Ashnel, approaching Seladare. A shout echoes down from the crows nest, and Terragon looks up from her spot on the deck. She turns to Ashnel, who's already climbing to his footpaws.*
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Post by Geordie Brushtail on Sept 13, 2006 2:40:44 GMT
*Geordie stumbles to his feet, mumbling someting about carrots, savages, and a boiling pot, obviously a holdover from some bizarre dream, and disappears into the galley. He reappears a few moments later, head soaked, but of clear mind, carrying a tray full of mugs of tea. He holds the tray out to Terragon, beckoning her to take one.*
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Post by Terragon Scrufftail on Sept 13, 2006 19:23:30 GMT
*The squirrel obliges, but doesn't drink it. It seems inappropriate as Seladare looms closer.* Thanks. *She murmurs after a moment.* Legends 'bout that place. *Ashnel says through lack of anything else to comment upon. Terragon nods.* I told Geordie already. *The other lapses into silence.*
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Post by Geordie Brushtail on Sept 13, 2006 22:10:25 GMT
*Geordie glances at the looming spectacle for a minute before extending the tray to Ashnel.*
Aye, tain't tha friendliest place te be gazin' 'pon, tis it? Still, an unfriendly soight doesnae make fer a warmin' feelin', se drink oop.
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Post by Terragon Scrufftail on Sept 17, 2006 11:47:55 GMT
*This seems to reassure Terragon, and the squirrel drains nearly a half of the beaker. Ashnel warms his paws on his own cup first, drawing the heat in against the sea breeze from the east; the very winds that spur the ship down towards Seladare...*
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Post by Geordie Brushtail on Sept 20, 2006 23:50:29 GMT
*Geordie takes some of his own advice, sipping slowly at his beaker and letting the warming feeling spread through him to his footpaws. He remains silent for a few moments, before the breaking the quiet once more.* Weel, when de ye reckon we'll make land, Ash?
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Post by Terragon Scrufftail on Sept 21, 2006 18:59:24 GMT
*The great squirrel takes a long time in answering and makes a dramatic show of checking the wind's direction with a massive paw.* The wind's still b'hind us, an' the land... I'd say maybe eight, nine miles off at least at the present. Could take us less than an hour or 'til this ev'ning - all d'pends. *He nods up at the sails, pulled tight against the force pushing forwards against their canvasses. Little more is said by either Ashnel or Terragon for a moment as the wind plays around their paws and the latter finishes her drink. The other gulps a few mouthfuls down before looking up, this time skywards.* The sun's been gone a while since this morning. But judging by the clouds, there shouldn't be any rain. *But just to make sure, Ashnel rests both paws surreptitiously (sp?) on the wood of The Windwhiffler's side. Luck and good fortune? 'S all myths, Ash... even so... don't you go tempting fate yet. There's still a little way t'go at present.*
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