The Return of Rippla [Blackstar]

[Tinsy Stormsight]

Night had long since fallen over the courtyard and chapel of St. Ninian's Order. 'Twas chilly, although not brutally cold like before, and the breeze was wet. Clouds blew over the moon and stars.
It seemed reasonable that the weasel would choose this kind of weather to show up again. This was, after all, exactly the night that he'd pick to die on. And, if he couldn't persuade some of the greener guards of who he was, who knew?
But no. Rippla Forlinost could outfight anybeast in Terralux, with the possible exception of Regen Eale. None of these others were disciplined enough to be a difficutly.
And, in fact, he didn't see a guard at all. He'd left his assistant..and maybe friend, who knew?..Danniar at Starsett. It had rained all day before, and she hadn't seemed very happy to be walking around during the night. She hadn't been going to complain, of course, which was admirable in itself..but Rippla didn't think Terragon Scrufftail would be pleased to learn that he'd gotten the rat a cold.

He'd snuck past the guard at the arch. Clearly the Lord Eale had been busy during his absence..there seemed to be a guard everywhere he went. The weasel hadn't bothered to go through the fort..he was sure he'd see more of the same.
It would appear that Regen was not involved in defense of the Ninian's area, since the guard there didn't even notice the weasel going around behind him. But then, Rippla was dressed mostly in black, and his dark eyes reflected very little light. All it had really taken to get around was covering his rapier hilt so it didn't catch the full moon above. The weasel didn't stop when he got by, but only slipped around and got into the chapel.
It was warm there, and dry. Rippla shed his wet fur cloak and hung it over a back pew. The rapier, too, he left on the seat beside it.

Rippla was a tall weasel, barely finished shedding his winter fur. Aside from his build..lean and steely, like his weapon..and the Thor's Hammer on a cord around his neck, he didn't look that unusual. His fur was muddy brown, and his eyes black as the sky outside..but much calmer, with more ice than wind. He dressed in black tunic and trousers, and worn boots.
Well, that and a livid scar that ran across his face, a souvenir from his arrival at Terralux. He was a bit fuzzy on the exact details of the skirmish..he only recalled a hung squirrel, Mister Eale with a knife, and a whip meeting his face.
All unpleasant, but it seemed more like a dream than anything else. The weasel still had the scar to remind him though..it twisted his left lip into a sneer and ran across his face, ending just under his right eye.

Rippla seemed to be in a good mood, though. He'd actually missed this place..not Terralux precisely, but the church he was in. It had become a sort of hideout of his..although he was Viking, even he could feel a distant Presence here. It wasn't unpleasant.
He bowed his head toward the altar, a slight inclanation..a polite greeting, no more..and settled onto a pew. It was empty in the main church, although there might be somebeast in a small chapel to one side. The candlelight flickered off his eyes, casting an almost pleasant glow over his scarred face.
The chapel, though, was a black opening. Anybeast could be in. In fact, Rippla was counting on somebeast being there.
Terragon Scrufftail, in fact. He knew the squirrel leaderess frequented the church, seemingly just to be there..the same reason he himself did. They were more alike than Scrufftail cared to admit, although he wasn't a fool enough to mention it to her. Rippla had little need to be afraid, but there was no sense in antagonizing somebeast who already seemed to be upset enough.
He took a breath and let it out slowly, contemplating what to do next. After a moment, he decided and spoke in a relaxed tone of voice.
"Hello."
His accent was high-born Briton, very clear and clipped. It was, aside from that, almost like he had no accent at all. It wasn't very pleasant, but was easy to decipher, unlike the rough Spanish accents of the Eales or the low-class speech of Danniar Anglafallen.
He waited a moment for a response, not concerned that he might be speaking to an empty Church. After all, nobeast was there to hear him...

OOC: Open, but specifically w/ Terragon. Rippla reports back.
Mild autohit on Danniar..if you want me to take it off, I can. I just couldn't see her sneaking past Regen's guards in the middle of the night.

[Terragon Scrufftail]

OOC: No, Danniar's a good girl; she goes to bed early and doesn't wander 'round Terralux in the dark, (distant memories, eh?).

BIC: "Hello." *Terragon peers into the gloom of the church, then back over her shoulder at the damp darkness of the night behind her. Though she recognises the voice, the squirrel pauses a second longer than she might upon the thresh-hold. Rippla.*
*She'd been aware the weasel had returned to Terralux. Her first warning had come a little after night had, when Danniar Anglafellen arrived at Starsett House. As the two embraced, Terragon had seen over the rat's shoulder and through the window, the weasel's dark figure, distorted by the thin glass and the night, hurrying away from the house.*
*But this, the next warning, startles her. It had not occurred to her that she'd find Rippla at St. Ninian's. Why, she'd only come here to think awhile and mayhaps retrieve the few posessions - a strong barkcloth belt, a slim dagger, a quill pen... two scrolls of parchment - she'd left while staying here the previous week.*
*She hesitates a second longer but allows a rueful smile to cross her face. Entering the chapel, Terragon bows her head in the direction of the altar, closing her eyes as she does so. She exhales as she opens them and next walks quickly, lightly up the paved eisle, eyes flicking from left to right, pew to pew until she spots Rippla in the candlelight.* Good evening, *The squirrel settles - truly, she does, finding little reason or energy to mistrust the weasel within but two hours of his return - next to Rippla in the pew, half a foot seperating the two. And, seated here, Terragon falls silent and, in the candlelight, slowly smiles again.*

[Tinsy Stormsight]

Rippla looked up as the squirrel stepped into the candlelight, his dark eyes incurious. Interesting..she wasn't here in the chapel. Also interesting that none of the Eales were, come to think of it. Lonas, at least, had gotten extremely religious all of a sudden; just when it looked like his short and mostly unimpressive life would be coming to an end. Regen never came to the church anyway..he, at least, was irreligious and tended to trust his sword and not divine providence.
A smart move. But then, the younger of the two squirrels was perhaps the smartest. He hadn't fallen in love with an Englishwoman, either. Rippla had often found himself wondering what would happen when his lauded family discovered exactly who 'Oakrose' was. Probably an interesting scene, if nothing better.
If Terragon wasn't here, she must've been doing something else. Perhaps the squirrel had finally realized that she was at war with the King of Mossflower. There was always a chance she was even taking command instead of leaving Regen Eale, Head Woodland Captain to do it. Without that Alashia here, there was always a good chance of it.
An interesting thought. Rippla would have to talk to Regen about it tomorrow, when he'd explained what had gone on while he was gone.

The weasel stared mildly at Scrufftail as the other sat on the pew, his face mostly blank. One eyebrow, perhaps, was raised slightly to indicate his thoughts, but otherwise there was no change in his usual expression.
All business, all the time. That was how the real world worked, after all.
"Evening."
Rippla listened to the sound of his voice echo in the chapel for a moment. He ought to give his report now. After all, that was why he was here..
"Burde won't be coming. We're on our own, unless Captain Eale has somehow managed to persuade someone local to send us troops."
That was the shortened version..there was plenty more, of course. Reasons why, mostly. Now for the next part.
"I believe, though, that he intends to launch an attack on Lord Blackstar. This will undoubtedly bring England and afterwards France and Spain into the picture if the Wildcat decides to call his Lords for help. Things could get very interesting from here."
Very interesting..and all, it appeared, over their small settlement.

[Stoakly Centurio]

The moon hung in the sky, lingeringly above the otter. He grimaced as clouds rolled ever so gently, covering the stars and the night sky, a macabre stiffness -- distinct, but something unnoticed by those not under the oppression of the coming storm -- in the air. An otter knelt down, his left paw sweeping through the damp, high grass; the other paw rested on the hilt of his javelin. With a sling firmly in position -- in a strap tied around his chest -- and a pouch of stones around his waist, he was the picture of a warrior. A scar ran down his cheek, splitting at the jaw and turning downward to the neck. One cut, sliced through the outermost layer of his fur, reminded him of the stoat who had attacked his Tribe. Archers brought him down, but he was only a decoy; behind the Tribe, an army of stoats, weasels, and ferrets had flanked their home, leaving them all but helpless against the odds. After the otters had piled into the large Tree House, the last defense, they were cornered by armies in the front and the sea at their back. Those who were too young and those who were too old to fight swam away while the rest were attacked. Some of the fighters managed to escape, but the onslaught continued. Many were killed, but Rames had fled after he was struck in the cheek by a stoat. It was his first wound, and the only one that decided to stay, haunting him.

Six seasons had passed, with only little word from his old Tribe. Now, he was lost in the fray of Blackstar and Burde. For only one season he was enlisted with Lord Blackstar, but he was too much of a free-spirit to be bound by rules and regulations. Thus, he left and went traveling, but he had now decided what to do. The only way to protect Mossflower from total war was for Terralux to fall, and neither Burde nor Blackstar gain the land. Redwall Abbey insisted on staying out, so now it was up to Terraluxians and the people of Mossflower. He pushed himself up, the cream colored tunic fitting with never a wrinkle on his lean figure. Rames continued down the path, St. Ninian's to his right. He knew he was nearing Terralux, where the battle would be fought in the coming seasons. If Blackstar gained control, Mossflower would be in a frenzy, but if Burde gained control, all of the goodbeast areas would rise to fight against the vermin. No one was truly seen fit to rule Mossflower; it was to remain divided.

Suddenly, his ears picked up a conversation. Two voices - one gruff and the other . . . a bit feminine. By his warrior instinct, he got closer, drifting silently through the trees. He held his javelin at the handle, moving through the foliage; he closed in on them, spotting the two creatures. A squirrel and a weasel. At a glance, he would be worried for the squirrel, but she seemed confident with the vermin. The weasel could be one of the rare vermin who are somehow good. But then, he distinctly heard them speaking of Burde and Blackstar. O' course. Alla 'em will be speakin' afore the storm comes. The weasel seemed a little ignorant, considering Burde had recently come to Terralux. According to the letter he recieved from Barclay, anyway. Deciding that the time was right, he stepped out of the trees. "Wrong, weasel. Burde'll come, but 'e won't 'elp Terralux unless 'e knows 'at 'e can take over it when th' time is right. Don' ferget, Terralux is th' border 'tween Burde an' Blackstar. Whoever wins 'is battle controls central Mossflower." The otter smirked, his arm resting on the javelin.

[Tinsy Stormsight]

OOC: They're in the church, Stoakly. No foliage.

[Stoakly Centurio]

OOC: Eh? I must've misread something. I thought they were standing outside the Church. Anyhow, carry on as if I entered the church.

[Terragon Scrufftail]

*Kael pads along through the passage into the chapel. Voices ahead; ones he'd not expected to hear. Entering the chapel, he sinks on one knee, and, standing against, pauses, not wanting to intrude. Terragon's brief greeting he recognises, but the second voice is unfamiliar to him, although, listening to the one-worded reply, it does not sound unfriendly to his odd, rounded otter ears.*
*His eyes adjusting to the gloom and candlelight, Kael spots the two figures, seated peacefully enough on the pew and nods to himself, satisfied that no danger lies here. But a moment later, his paw flies to a knife at his side that is not there, for he came unarmed into the chapel; another otter, a warrior by what Kael can see of him, has entered - and this creature is armed. Stifiling the snarl that rises unbidden in his throat, the otter takes hold of edge of a pew, his claws digging deep into the soft wood, his teeth clenched as he watches the newcomer.*

*Terragon turns her head sharply and surveys the otter, her surprise giving her an angrier expression than perhaps intended. Sneaking a sideways glance at Rippla, she speaks first and with more boldness than she might otherwise have had.* And what interest is that to you? I know there's been many comings and goings in these parts recently, but you seem like a warrior; and if you were a warrior of Terralux, I'd recognise you... even in this light. Your name, sir, and how you come to be here; the gates of this settlement close at sunset and I was there as they closed tonight, *She tells him, a little fiercely.* How did you get past the guard? *The squirrel demands. And there is more than a little curiousity behind the question, despite her best efforts to hide it in anger.*

[Tinsy Stormsight]

"Wrong, weasel. Burde'll come, but 'e won't 'elp Terralux unless 'e knows 'at 'e can take over it when th' time is right. Don' ferget, Terralux is th' border 'tween Burde an' Blackstar. Whoever wins 'is battle controls central Mossflower."
Rippla spun at the voice, his eyes narrowing and lips parting in a snarl. Somebeast had come in behind him -how? the doors were shut, and they squeaked-, gotten across the church, and was even now behind him, bearing weapons.
The weasel reached for his blade before remembering that, in respect, he'd left the weapon on a pew near the front of the church. Damn and curse him - he was a fool, and a sentimental one at that. This was what happened when a warrior lived too long at peace.
He turned away and took a breath, squashing a tide of anger that rose up. He'd long ago cut out most traces of emotion..it was difficult to fight hot, like Regen, or laughingly, like the squirrel Alashia. He was no good in a battle when he was angry.
"And what interest is that to you? I know there's been many comings and goings in these parts recently, but you seem like a warrior; and if you were a warrior of Terralux, I'd recognise you... even in this light. Your name, sir, and how you come to be here; the gates of this settlement close at sunset and I was there as they closed tonight. How did you get past the guard?"
It worked as always, and Rippla turned again and faced the otter..otters now, the spy had appeared too. For a moment he felt at a loss without his weapon, but he clasped his paws behind his back firmly and studied the other beasts with a gimlet eye.
Try as he might, there was still a little anger in his gaze. It couldn't hurt, though, and Rippla let it flicker in his dark eyes. If he were to be angry, they ought to know of it. It was truly unfortunate he was in a Church and unarmed, or the otter with the low-bred accent would have a few inches of steel in him.

"Ye come armed," he said after a moment, drawing his courtly speech into his words for added effect, "Into a Church. Ye were taught no manners?.. or belike ye are a Barbarian..or a Fool, mayhap?"
Christian or not, it was polite to disarm before entering a Church, which was a place of sanctuary. One could not bear arms in here. In some other places, or if one of the Eales had been around, the otter would already be dead for the insult to their Faith.
Maybe he was a fool. Or, perhaps, he was so good with that javelin that he could hold off several angered beasts at once? It seemed unlikely, so the fool was better.
Rippla glanced at the otter spy and read the other's fury, matching his own. He glanced the other beast in the eye for a moment, his own dark gaze as inscrutable as always, before returning to the invader.

It was a pity Regen Eale was not around. Maybe the golden Captain had acquired another warrior and not told any of them. That seemed, though, unlikely..he would've told Scrufftail if nobody else.

[Terragon Scrufftail]

OOC: Bump.