Lord Redstripe was gazing out over the sea that beckoned to him, yet he knew he could never sail. He had always wanted to seek out the mysteries of the waves that taunted him so. But he was a Badger Lord, and his subjects needed him. Nevertheless, he could still hire a band of sailors to scour the waves for him. This he had done, and the time was at hand for the motley band of seabeasts to make their maiden voyage. He walked down to the field outside the gates of Salamandastron, where a great feast was being held for the sailors. A twinkle appeared in his eye, This will be a good night, he thought. One more celebration before they have to suffer whatever injuries the sea has to throw at them. He sat down in his seat at the head of the largest table in the throng, and the feast began.
OOC: Sorry for taking so long, this is kind of thrown together, but we will embark tomorrow.
Foxglove was not a fan of feasts. Oh he loved them of course, and his stomach could have told you that from a mile away, but inevitably somebeast would ask him to 'pass the salt, wot', in complete ignorance of his inability to speak and it would remind him of the seer he'd slain and his so-called fate, long ago dictated. Nothing infuriated him more than said reminder...
But the food was good.
"Don't talk much, do you?" came a voice from Foxglove's left, where a thin and scruffy shrew sat with an amused look on his face. The shrew reached for a pitcher of elderberry wine to refill his cup, the third time he had done so thusfar.
"Can hardly blame you, I suppose. Sat here surrounded by the finest food for miles - not to mention the finest drink - and you have to listen to hares." The shrew snorted as he offered the pitcher to Foxglove.
"Name's Thorne. You get hurt, you come to me. You find some sort of exotic wine on an island somewhere, you come to me. Hmph, let's hope so. After this," he chuckled, motioning to the food laid out in front of them, "it's just bread and rum where we're going."
The otter accepted the cup of wine, jabbed once in his direction with his left paw, then opened and shut said paw like a pair of jaws before shaking his head.
He had never truly perfected sign language, and communication was made more difficult with only one paw available and the sweetly-scented elderberry wine so close to his nose.
"Hmm. Not so much 'don't talk' as 'can't talk', then?"
Thorne motioned to the bracelet of teeth around Foxglove's paw.
"Those aren't yours. Wrong shape, have to be closer to a fox's teeth than an otter's," the shrew mused, draining his cup, "Seen a lot of disturbing things, but even I don't know if I want to ask about that..."
Chugging the eldrlower wine at a perhaps unhealthy pace, Foxglove Lackjaw grinned. He liked this shrew. They had an uncommon sense of perception he was not-at-all familiar with, yet thankful for. Upon licking the remaining dregs free of the cup, he set it down and extended a paw towards the shrew.
After all, a voyage set upon alone was deadly dull.
Thorne nodded with approval as the otter downed his cup.
"We have something in common, it seems," he chuckled, accepted the proffered paw, "hopefully we don't drink through the ship's stocks too quickly. Seen one of the best searat crews in five seasons slaughter each other over the last keg in a few hundred miles. Fortunately, this crew seems more sound of mind... except the otter with a fox's jaw clamped around his wrist."
Lightly he punched the shrew's shoulder. He was not a fan of word games, they were rather hard for an illiterate mute. Although perhaps Thorne had a point. The fox's teeth was rather macabre jewelry.
The otter grinned wider at the memory. Perhaps he was insane, but the seer had stolen his tongue, in return he'd stolen her teeth... and her life but that was besides the point. The bracelets served as a constant reminder of the words she'd spoken. Death at sea, there was no fate more humiliating for a creature of the water than a death at sea.
A tall hare walked up to their table, carrying a large plate of different varieties of food. As he sat down next to Thorne, he accidentally bumped into the shrew with his elbow.
"Woops! Sorry there me ol' chap! Didn't quite see you there. Wot!"
Cayden sat in his room packing up the rest of his belongings. The sounds of feasting rang in his ears, but he wanted no part in it. Now was the prime time to find any loose belongings that any creatures had left in the open on there way to the festivities. He chuckled to himself, he would be long gone on the sea voyage before anybeast noticed that they were missing something. He decided he would stop by the hare Frodrim's room first. He had seen him trying to choose between two amulets to wear. After he chose, he had left the other one on the table in his room. Cayden causally strolled into Frodrim's room. His eyes fell upon the amulet on the table, he looked around to make sure no one was watching, then took it up an cautiously put it into his inner pocket. This was the way it went for some time until he though he had a nice bit of trinkets to add to his collection. After he disposed of the loot in his lockbox, he dressed himself in the best he had to offer and strolled into the mess hall.
Thorne gave Foxglove a bemused look as Toby sat down.
"Watch it, hare," the surgeon said with a smirk, swiping a wedge of fine cheese from the new arrival's plate, "don't want me to have to perform eye surgery, do you?"
"You're in the wrong place, sailor," came a voice from behind Cayden as he entered the mess hall. "They're holdin' the feast outside."
Like Cayden, Montgomery had worn his finest on the night before the departure of the Fortuitous, though despite the effort that had gone into producing his uniform, the lack of awards left it lacking. Montgomery was aware of this; it tore at him. Wearing a dress uniform with nothing pinned on it may as well have been wearing nothing at all, for the recognition it carried. Subconsciously, the hare felt himself paw at the empty patch of fabric over his chest as he passed the otter.
"Believe me, it's far from one you'd best be missing. Tonight's a night to remember, isn't it?"
Typical clumsy hares... Thought Foxglove as he filled his goblet once more. Although... some of the hare's chosen pasties certainly looked appealing. And a good taste in food was always welcome. He nodded once at the clumsy hare, raised his goblet and drained it as swiftly as he could.
Toby gave the fox seated at his table a long look.
The chap looks like he got into a fight with a river pike, he thought, glancing at the otter's deformed tail.
Holding out a paw, Toby cleared his throat. "Eh hem. My name is Toby Clewiston, what's yours? Wot?"
The hare wanted his name... why did everybeast want names? Could they not just refer to him as 'him'?
Not wanting to get on the wrong side of his new shipmate, the otter jabbed one finger at the tooth bracelets to mean 'fox', mimed a motion of putting gloves on, for 'glove', shook his head and repeatedly crossed and uncrossed his arms to indicate 'lack' then pointed at his jaw... to mean 'jaw'.
Foxglove Lackjaw had not always been his name of course, but it was the name he'd chosen when he decided to defy destiny. Besides... it had a very lovely ring to it.
"Ah," Toby said knowingly, "Braceletpaw Crossmouth. I gotta admit that is a rather interesing name. Wot."
Cayden strolled up to the table and sat down across from Foxglove. He didn't have much on his plate, he didn't want to be full if any trouble arose. As he sat he noticed that the otter across from him was having troubles with one of the assigned crewmen. He addressed Toby, "Oi! Where do ya think you will be putting all that scoff? You better be well enough to rise at the crack of dawn tomorrow!"
Foxglove grimaced and shook his head. This time he did his best fox impression, waving around his malformed tail like a vulpine's bushy one, tugging at his ears until they were pointed. That was 'fox'. Once more he mimed the putting-on of gloves. He emptied his goblet and pointed at it to mean 'lack', then jabbed a paw at his jaw, which he moved up and down. Somebeast ought to have come up with paw-signals...
Toby glanced over at the otter who had just sat down at their table.
"A hare could never eat to much flippin' scoff, wot!"
He turned to see the strange otter with a deformed tail making more signs with his paws.
Must not have guessed his name right the first time. Wot, Toby thought to himself.
After watching him carefully, the hare nodded his head. "Ah, I see. Tailear Tugempty...That's...er...I nice name. Wot."
This hare was deliberately insulting him. Foxglove decided, as his paws clenched into fists. He removed one of the bracelets and shoved it in his face. A shrew had spotted the fox teeth, surely a hare could too?
Toby almost had to leap back as the odd otter showed his tooth bracelet into his face.
What is this blinking chap's name!
"Uh... Foxtooth? You know what, maybe I could just call you something simpler like stumpy or Mudfur," the scarred hare joked.
Foxglove had had enough. His entire life somebeast had called him Stumpy- Mudfur he'd never heard before but it made his eye twitch in annoyance- it was partially why he was so proud of the name 'Foxglove Lackjaw'. Siezing the elderberry wine, he up-ended the entire contents of the bottle over this lackwit hare.
"Be that as it may..." came a voice from behind Cayden as a hare sat beside him, "tonight may be the last for some time that we see food like this."
Like Cayden, Montgomery had worn his finest on the night before the departure of the Fortuitous, though despite the effort that had gone into producing his uniform, the lack of awards left it lacking. Montgomery was aware of this; it tore at him. Wearing a dress uniform with nothing pinned on it may as well have been wearing nothing at all, for the recognition it carried. Subconsciously, the hare felt himself paw at the empty patch of fabric over his chest.
"Let the fellow eat his share; he is a hare, after all. If he can't pull his weight tomorrow, I imagine the Mate'll ensure he doesn't forget that mistake. If not, let us all make this a night to remember for the right reasons."
Thorne gave a chuckle at the fast escalation of the "conversation" between Foxglove and the new arrival, before jumping out of his seat as drink began flying. The surgeon had no intention of being caught in a brawl; patching up any injuries that were likely to arise would be enough of a bother.
Toby gasped as he was hit by the flying wine.
"How dare you!" He roared, grabbing a slab of cranberry pie and smashed it into the otter's face. "This is my favorite tunic!"
As Thorne attempted to remove himself further from the situation, tears of laughter forming in the shrew's eyes, a brawny otter shoved him aside and stepped between Toby and Foxglove.
"Enough," he growled, shoving Toby's platter across the table, where it came to rest in front of Cayden, "Don't take this any further than it needs no. Not now, not here, or you'll spend tomorrow in the brig, if our host lets you step foot on his ship."
Flynn turned his gaze to Foxglove.
"And you. I'll chalk this up to too much of that wine. Best you learn to hold your liquor. If you get drunk and start something like this at sea, the Captain will have you flogged. None of us want that."
Toby tried desperately to wipe the wine off his tunic. "He started it," he mumbled, pointing to the stumpy-tailed otter, "I was only tryin' to figure out the chap's flippin' name. Wot wot."
The hare shot a frosty glare at Thorn. "What are you laughing at?!"
As soon as Cayden saw the wine leave the otter's paw he snatched an empty tray from a passing cart and proper it up to deflect anything else the mad otter threw. After a few minutes he cautiously lowed the platter, and to his delight he saw Toby's tray heaped with food. Smiling to himself he liberated a few of the tastiest morsels for himself and kindly returned the tray back to the grumbling hare, "Here you go mate, the food will take your mind off the present"
"Leave it," Flynn grunted, "if there's one beast you don't want to make enemies with, it's the surgeon. It don't matter how many fights you get in, nor how many lashes you get, if he don't want to fix you after. Sit down and don't do anything stupid."
Toby snatched the plate from the short otter. "Hmm...Thank you."
To the scarred otter he gave a grumbled sigh. "Fine. Forget it."
Grabbing his haversack, he walked to the other side of the table, hopefully he would be out of accurate range if the silent otter tried to throw anything at him again. Mumbling under his breath, he started eating his food.
Hmm...I thought there was more food on my tray than this, wot.
Foxglove licked the pie off his face, enjoying the sweet taste of cranberry. He didn't enjoy much else though, being threatened with a brig and a flogging was hardly the best start to a journey. The hare had also proved to be a) a bumbling fool and b) an idiotic bumbling fool. And too much wine? The very thought of it made his lips curl with distaste- not because he could hold his drink very well- but because there was never enough wine. Ever. No matter what.
Still, he could feel the watchful eyes of onlookers, and in silence replaced his fox-tooth bracelet before moving on to a wonderful cheese and leek turnover. The taste of it set his mind at ease.
Toby filled up his tankard with ale and took a big gulp. Yup,he thought to himself, Things are going to be rather interesting with that otter aboard. Wot.
Shrugging to his self, he started shoveling down some more apple pie. Who knows when we'll get to eat a meal like this?
Foxglove stumbled into bed a short while later, having eaten and drunk his fill (and packed a few choice samples for the trip). Exhausted as he was, he did not notice the pie on his bed until he had landed right into it. A few seconds later, after his hazy mind recovered from the shock, Foxglove was growling.
There was only one beast in Salamandastron that would do this to him...
That hare...
After Toby had eaten his fill of food, he decided to head down to the place where all the recruits slept to catch a good night's rest.
Whistling a merry tune he walked down the hallway, wondering what he'd have for breakfast in the morning.
Foxglove stormed out of his room, the look on his face, positively murderous. Well, he wasn't going to murder the hare of course, but he had found that there weren't many problems you couldn't solve with a nice fist.
And it just so happened that the hare was walking towards him!
He'd meant to save the apple crumble for the journey, it was delicious and sweet. But revenge was sweeter.
As Toby walked own the hallway, he saw the otter who had thrown the wine in his face carrying a apple crumble. Ah, the chap must be having a late snack. I wonder if he'd be kind enough to give me some...
Foxglove Lackjaw gave him some alright! A swift twist of his arm and WHOOSH! the apple crumble was flying towards the hare with the speed of sound!
"Hey there, would you mind if I- ACK! WHAT WAS THAT FOR!?" Toby was suddenly hit full in the face by the platter of apple crumble. By golly, that otter was going to pay! Toby leapt forward, a handful of the crushed food in his paw.
Foxglove was ready for him, and as if from thin air, drew his pillow. Parts of it were still covered in pie (like his face) and it wasn't a hard enough weapon to give the hare what he deserved, but it would do for now!
Toby saw the pillow coming and just managed to duck. As the pillow whisked by overhead, the hare swung the food at Foxgloves' nose.
Foxglove growled as his pillow missed, and some vague food (no doubt already chewed by this hare) caught him on the nose. He brought pillow back and swung again.
Toby was hit by the flying pillow. Giving the otter a glare, he shouted, "That it! Eulaliaaaaaa!" He jumped forward and grabbed the other end of the pillow. "Let go you blinking cad! Wot!"
My pillow! Foxglove would have said, had he been able to talk. He held onto the pillow and tugged against the hare with all his might. He heard a faint ripping, but was too busy to care.
"Give! Me! The! Bally! Pillow!" With both of them pulling with all of their strength, the inevitable happened with a loud rip and a poof of feathers.
Both landed painfully on their rumps.
Foxglove glared. Now his pillow was ruined irreperably! Snarling (but also rubbing his rather sore backside) he got to his feet.
Toby had landed on a rather sharp rock so if he wasn't in a bad mood before then he sure was now. "What is your bloody problem?" He asked, throwing his half of the pillow at Foxglove. "I just wanted some apple crumble an' a good night's sleep!"
The otter pounced! Good nights sleep? He had booby-trapped his room and stayed to laugh!
They both painfully crashed into each other! If this otter thought he'd get the best of the Fearsome Toby then he had another thing coming!
Foxglove stood up again, and spun round to slam his deformed tail into the hare's nose.
"Gah! You blinking savage!" Toby threw all caution to the wind. (If there even was any wind inside the hallway) and tackled the otter, trying to pin him to the ground.
Foxglove brought both feet into the otter's face in an attempt to push him off.
So what if they got locked up? So what if they wound up getting pelted by rotten seaweed? This hare was going to suffer!
Just then Cayden walk around the corner and stumbled over them both
Another otter?! Considering Toby's luck, the newcomer would probably try sitting on his head or something. "I say, chap! Watch where you're going! Wot! We're in th' middle of a blinkin' battle!"
Foxglove pulled away and dusted himself. Without another word (well... there had been now words to begin with) he stomped away.
"Who spit in his cranberry pie?" Toby wondered aloud. Wincing as he stood up.
The door of Foxglove's chambers slammed shut with unnecessary force.
Toby stood in the hallway in silence. Maybe I should see what triggered the bally fool this time, he thought. After some more contemplation, he shook his head, Nah. I'd probably just upset him.
"Alright, crew! Time teh go teh bed so that ye're all ready an' set fer da morn!" Barry Beach announced, making his way through the halls.
OOC: I really have no idea how to play this character.
Foxglove was already in bed, fuming. His revenge had been interrupted! Again! That... hare...
Still, he thought, twisting into a more comfortable position, he'd given more than he'd got and he likely wasn't getting flogged in the morning.
Slolwy, he drifted off to sleep.