All these years - I'm still the same..

[Tinsy Stormsight]

Beasts and weapons flashed past me where I stood in a foot of mud, staring at them. Some of them bled, others didn't..I could tell for sure who had actually fought the battle and who had hung back, hoping to surive the night. The moon shone down on the scene, lighting us all bright silver and flashing off armor, weapons, shields..fewer than we'd started this march with. The day before had been harder fighting, as we'd wiped out a large well-armed village in order to get it under control of Baron Tervin Blackstar. Today was not as bad - just a small outpost, a few farms - but we'd been on the march for weeks now. Nobody was looking forward to another fight.
The night was cold, and my breath floated away from me as I stalked through the English muck, using my spear for support. The creatures around me didn't meet my face. It was pretty obvious why..they all expected I would be dead by the end of this march. Nobody looked at anyone else at all, in fact. Except for one band. They were barely distinguishable under the filth, their eyes staring out of the mud and fangs bared as they laughed at the men around them. War-addled. They only wanted to fight and die. I was assigned to them.
"Captain Eale!" A rat of that band waved a spear at me, trying to get my attention as he pointed a claw toward the front lines. "Look there."
I did. There was a short line of spears visible off on the top of the hill. Damn these woodlanders. There was always one last group ready to fight for whatever muddy plots of farmland and filthy, defenceless houses they had. I could count about ten, due to the bright moonlight. Easy. It would be like threshing wheat or whatever these barbarians did for food around here.
I turned back to the rat who'd hailed me and shrugged, strolling to the front of my little platoon..what was left of them from the fight we'd had the day before..and shouldering my spear. This campaigning was a drag. Hopefully I'd be done with it soon and could go somewhere else..I'd heard that there was excellent dry-weather fighting if you joined the Crusaders..
The order to march rang out in the night. I kept step with the others, one paw on my lance and another on my sword as the column moved forward..
Arrows hailed down..they never hit me.
A mouse died on my blade, suprise in his eyes to see a squirrel among this host.
Sharp pain seared through me; a beast hit me from behind. I gutted him as I fell...

---

A flame crackled in the Tavern's fireplace, keeping the room pleasantly warm. It was empty, which was typical of this time of night, aside from a golden squirrel, which was typical of this time of night. The squirrel sat awake, staring dully into the fire with his arms crossed, brown eyes fixed on the orange flames. He glanced up for a second as the snow picked up outside, rattling off the windows. Kind of odd, how one night he'd been thinking of the Crusades and the next he was lying half-dead in the mud with an injury that ruined his career forever. He'd never made it to the warm-weather fighting..Regen still lived in the frozen North. England.
He turned his eyes back to the fire, vaguely noting the sound of paws coming up the stairs into the building. The opening of the door was also ignored. Mostly.
"Who is it."
The words weren't as slurred as usual..Regen hadn't bothered to drink anything tonight, as he hadn't needed it to keep remembering a fight that happened four years ago. Amazing how a beast can forget about something for a whole year, and it comes back like yesterday one perfectly normal evening..

[Terragon Scrufftail]

*The other's words weren't as slurred as usual, that made the stranger smile and then also stop and frown. He'd not drunk anything tonight either, as he hadn't needed it to keep remembering a fight that had been going on inside his mind for nearly five years now. Amazing how a beast can forget about something for a whole year, and it comes back like yesterday one perfectly normal evening... amazing.*
*He stands wearily in the dim entrance of the tavern, paw gripping the open door, with the warmth of the fire and the smell of beer hops washing over him and the cold night outside at his back. What did I leave behind? Already, the room before him is different, unfamiliar. The weapons and shields that used to line the walls are gone, the stranger notices.*
*Blinking snow from his eyes, he steps into the room and closes the door. Amazing how a beast can forget about something for a whole year, and then can come back like he's only been gone since yesterday one perfectly normal evening... amazing.* It's Ashnel.

[Tinsy Stormsight]

Silence. The door closed behind him. Regen waited quietly, not bothering to reach for a weapon..no real point. If the silent creature standing behind him wanted to try and kill him, they would get a suprise even if he didn't have his sword in his paw. But still, since he wasn't dead yet, that seemed unlikely.
"It's Ashnel."
Regen didn't reply at first. Ashnel..really. The voice sounded about right, and the tone, but he didn't really expect that the dark squirrel had decided to just show back up again. But then, maybe Ashnel had enough guts to do it. Whatever. Not really his business.
The golden squirrel turned, brown eyes leaving the fire and glancing the other squirrel up and down. It was Ashnel. Huh. He shrugged slightly and stood, moving to stand a few feet away from the other squirrel. It felt a bit odd to be wary of a beast he'd known for years, but..that was how the world was now. Regen was a man of importance. As Lonas constantly reminded him, he had to be more careful than when he was Captain of troops for Blackstar. Back then, he only had to worry about getting killed. Now..
"Didn't figure you'd be back."
His brown eyes didn't show much of his wariness, only a little mild curiosity.
"Terragon said you'd moved on to other places."

[Terragon Scrufftail]

"Didn't figure you'd be back. Terragon said you'd moved on to other places."
*Ashnel moves closer into the room towards the fire and hangs his cloak over the back of a chair. Simple, normal movements, but they feel unfamiliar all the same. He keeps his eyes on Regen, wary too. The golden squirrel looks... not different, but perhaps more tired? Who knows. Ashnel quickly forgets the thought as he draws together a reply.*
I had. But I heard rumours. Blackstar...
*He gives Regen a questioning look. He drags the chair from beneath the table but does not sit, feeling almost as though he is asking Regen for his permission to do so and feels he has somehow managed to imply he thought Terralux needed his help. He'd doubted it did and his motives for returning to the settlement are rather different.*
...I think, *Ashnel says slowly.* That it's probably best that I hear everything from you. There's so many stories flying around Mossflower, you must know that. *He stops, swallows and continues.* Stoakly Centurio, *He says the name bluntly and the question even more so.* Is it true that he was killed?