Captain Cuthbert's Ramblings(Osu's Contest)

[Redwaller]

This fanfiction is an entry of the Contest of Hareish Proportions, started by Osu

Captain Cuthbert's Ramblings

Prologue

Not much is known of Major Cuthbert Blanedale Frunk, or Cuthbert Frunk W. Bloodpaw as he called himself when he went about the seas. A pile of old, dusty documents were found in an elderly officer's papers about one of his most famous feat. The documents say that Cuthbert himself wrote the story, but the authenticity and truthfulness of the story are rather questionable. These events happened not long before High Rhulain Tiria Wildlough came to the throne(actually, when he first met Tiria, he had just come back from it).

But I still brought it upon myself to relay this delightful story to those who will come after me. So here it is.

Badger Lord of Salamandastron

Chapter 1

Cuthbert Frunk W. Bloodpaw paced around the aft of the Purloined Petunia back and forth as he peered through his spyglass at the small vermin ship about ten miles away, making good speed towards the faraway dot of an island. A dozen searats were lounging about the deck, drinking fiery grog and eating bits of fish; he guessed that half a dozen were probably below deck at the moment. He turned around and inspected the seven feet long pike-axe, along with a huge curved sabre which he had in a golden sheath slung on the belt at his side: they were sparklingly clean, without a trace of rust. He had always prided himself of the almost fanatic care he took with his weapons and gear. He strode to the back of the ship, and set course a little way Southeast, so as to cut the vermin off before they could reach the island.

Going into his cabin, he leaned over a partially detailed map of the seas he was travelling on. He noted the location of the Purloined Petunia, and identified the island as being Sampetra, the legendary isle where cannibalistic monitor lizards were said to populate the rich vegetation of the tropical jungles that had covered it. Another reason for stopping the rats before they reached it; once there, they would be out of his reach, and that he would not allow. Crossing the deck quickly back to the aft, he looked again with his spyglass at the vermin ship. Now he saw that it was called the Bloody Tail. She had changed course slightly while he was inside the cabin, so as to circle the island to the hidden point. It seemed that none of the searats had noticed him, too occupied at their own pleasure to mount a sentry on the empty crow's nest which towered over the tattered and dirty sails like a tower of doom. Giving a small guffaw, he sneered at the rats' foolishness,
"What a bunch o' bally beetle bums, wouldn't be fit to wash the bloomin' pots and pans, wot!"

He put away his spyglass as he jumped lightly to the mast, and unfurled the sails to full length. The crude painting of a vermin's head with an arrow in it proudly flew upon its post on the main sail. The red paint was of questionable origin, as was the fur cape floating upon his shoulders. Flourishing it with a heavily scarred paw, he watched upon the crow's nest as the ship slowly came closer. now the rats were in plain view. They seemed to have noticed him now, judging on the way they ran to and fro, picking up weapons and setting the course towards him as they most probably thought he was but a defenseless merchant. Now Bloodpaw broke into insane laughter as he slipped down the ropes and ran to the tiller, where he set course directly at the searats. He drew his sabre, and prepared to board ship.

~*~

One of the rats licked his blade eagerly as he watched the boat loom closer. He peered over the side to catch a glimpse of the cowering merchants, but he could only see an empty deck. The ships came next to each other, and a few rats hooked them together. They all stood silent as they watched the empty boat, where not even a speck of sea dust dared move. The bosun warily climbed on and looked around; nothing changed in the Emery silence, and so he crept to the cabin. Unnoticed to all, Frank was up in the rigging, sabre clenched between his teeth and spear in paw as he swung himself onto the Bloody Tail's mast and down to the deck. The rest of the rats were now cautiously starting to board the other ship, thinking it might be a ghost ship. With an expert flick, the spear flew, and buried into the exposed neck of the captain. The crew whipped around, but it was already too late...

[Gnoflet]

Very good. You copied Cuthbert Frunk W. Bloodpaw's personality excellently. 

[Redwaller]

Thanks! 

[Brinty]

Cool!

[Redwaller]

Thanks! 

More on the way soon!