The Meat Traders of Baldoshi RP

[shisteer of nothing much]

OOC: Alright, chaps! Let's get started. I've left a bit of room for interaction if anything seems interesting, but I'm mostly trying to set the scene. (Trying, because the writing part of my brain has been dormant for... a while. *brushes away a few conspicuous cobwebs*)
SIGN-UPS ARE STILL OPEN! If you want to join, post your character sheet in the OOC topic. Go ham.


BIC:
  It was a lazy sort of morning. The wind blew brisk and strong, and the sun beamed down cheerfully, reflecting off the water and dancing in the waves caused by the wide hull of Soarsaga. It was ideal conditions for the crew to kick back and relax, and they took full advantage of it after almost a moon of voyaging. Torgen grinned at the islands before him. They'd been sighted the day before, but now they were close enough to see the houses and the huge temple he'd grown up calling home.
  The weasel closed an eye and adjusted the ship's angle slightly, navigating through the hidden reefs with the ease of one who'd done it a hundred times. Two of the crew kept an eye on the speed, easing the sheets to allow the ship to slow, making constant adjustments that they knew by heart. Sailing was a dangerous and often unpredictable business, but these waters were home, and most of the crew had cut their teeth on the hidden rocks and other obstructions.
  As they drew closer to port, Torgen glanced over the green fields and tidy village, grinning at the captives as they took it all in for the first time. To him, these islands meant safety and comfort. The organised fields, divided by stone fences, the towering white temple, and the armed and ready weasels on the dock were all a relief. To the beasts in the wooden pens, it meant toil and fear and death. Somehow, that fact didn't seem to bother him.
  The ship came alive with activity as it swung smoothly into port, sails being furled and the lines tossed out to beasts waiting on the wooden jetty. Torgen sat back and watched the chaos, calling orders wherever needed, but his crew knew what they were doing for the most part, and so he indulged in a small amount teasing. Several of the captives had voiced angry threats since being captured, and he winked at them now, spreading a paw to indicate the island behind him.
  "Welcome to Baldoshi. I'm sure somebeast'll be around to give you a tour as soon as they're available. What would you like to see first? There are fields to till, or hay to be made at this time of year, or perhaps some of you would like to skip all that, and go straight to the butcher's block. It's quite a sight. Most who see it leave a little part of themselves behind."
  His announcement was rewarded by a few snarls of anger, and a couple of the younger beasts cowering back in fear, and Torgen laughed, slinging his pack over his shoulder as he turned towards the docks, feeling satisfied with the past two seasons. He'd been on three voyages over the summer and spring, and he had brought in half again what the other two ships had made, when you combined money and captives.
  It was a good climb to get to Baldoshi's largest building, and the stone walls provided welcome relief from the hot breeze. Bypassing the temple area, the weasel made for the offices, touching the coin pouch on his belt to make sure he was ready. He had a report to make, and he looked forward to it, for once. He deserved a bit of recognition for his latest accomplishment. He was fairly sure the net profit he'd made on this voyage had broken at least one record, and he wouldn't be surprised if it did more than that. His destination reached, he stopped and knocked.


~~~~~


  Morgyn paused and stretched, glancing down at the docks curiously. It flew a blue flag, and he shook his head, grinding his teeth. That was the ship he'd been taken in. He wasn't sure of the captain's name, but he hated him with a special passion. He couldn't see a lot from this distance, but judging by the guards waiting on the pier, the ship had brought in some new comrades.
  "Looks like Soarsaga's found us some friends. Goody. Wonder if any of them know how to fight?"
  The hedgehog grunted, then shook his head at the squirrel and sighed.
  "You always wonder that. So far no good's come from it. If they do know how, they'll soon learn not to regardless, like you did."
  Morgyn chuckled at the response, shaking a claw at his friend.
  "Tsk, tsk, way to look at the bright side, Abe. I can still fight, I'm just waiting for the right moment. No sense in getting killed while it won't do any good."
  The spikedog sighed as he straightened his back, then picked up his bucket and headed for the larger bin at the end of their row.
  "The right moment will never come, Morgyn."
  The squirrel shrugged, following the beast with his own bucket and glancing towards the path. The first of the new arrivals were being led up the hill, and he caught the eye of one of them and threw a quick salute, looking them over. Some of them looked like fighters, and one or two looked like they'd been in a fight recently. He winced sympathetically at some of the scars a fellow squirrel was sporting and shook his head, his attention returning to his work as Abe called his name, and he grinned, unable to resist, despite the fact he knew his friend was unenthusiastic. There was a new bounce to his step as he went back into the field where he'd left off.
  "They looked fairly strong. I'm hopeful."

[JazzOfRedwall98]

Sallow perked, watching his fellow farmbeasts stand tall and glancing towards the the docks. For a moment, the otter considered paying it no mind and focusing on his work. He never liked it when the ships returned, bringing with them new creatures doomed to suffer under the watchful eyes of their weasel captors. So many new faces, and many of them would soon disappear as soon as they arrived, gone to fill their bloodthirsty bellies. Sallow knew this, and still, after some consideration, he looked to the docks anyway. He needed a break from tilling, anyway. A paw rested on his back as he straightened up, groaning at his aching muscles. An interesting assortment of woodlanders; the otter hoped to learn a few names, at least. Even if they were to die, knowing their names kept them alive in his heart. Sallow shook his head, not wanting to think of such things. Instead, he offered a small wave in their direction. His eyes darted, hoping that there were no guards watching. Such cruel things, many of them were...

Some beasts were talking, he noticed. The otter glanced towards a squirrel and a hedgehog. They seemed to be talking about fighting. Sallow could not help a small, humorless laugh.

"It's pointless," he muttered. "Won't do any good, tryin' t'fight..."


---


Cuffa watched, gleefully, as the new arrivals were marched up the hill. Turning her back to the workers (and giving them a much-needed respite from her hostility), she flashed them a wild and toothy grin, eyes glinting with malicious intent and her paw firmly grasping the handle of her whip. She took a few steps towards the meatbeasts, relishing in the wide-eyed stares the more fearful ones gave her.

"Oh, yer a nice, FAT one, ain't ya?" she snickered, pointing her whip at a trembling volemaid. "I'd love t'get a bite o' ya when yer on the chop!"

CRACK!

Cuffa cackled at the resulting yelps and sobs as she lashed out with the whip. She was not close enough to hit anyone, but the threat was made very clear. Licking her chops, she turned to the farmers, and cracked the whip again, this time, catching a poor mouse across the back.

"Back t'work!" she demanded. "Who told ya t'stop!? Ain't nothin' fer ya t'be lookin' 'round at!"

[Dannflower Reguba]

      Ticking, the echo's of an unassuming marvel of tinkering declared the passage of otherwise quiet moments within the record halls, this one, small disruption being the only thing to keep Praff company aside from the silent records themselves. Knowing at least two ships were supposed to be returning as early as two weeks ago, he had been brushing up on and crunching several of the intake numbers alongside the various orders that had been filled in recent months, or were to be in short order. The calm start to his morning was then interrupted by the familiar din of sighted sails, the Soarsaga's name eventually being dropped by a passing guard, allowing the industrious weasel to pull already prepared sheets to get a head start on the record. Pages ready, he awaited the inevitable call of the captain, perusing various treatise's and other external works when the knocking landed on his door, "You may enter, Torgen."

*****

       One especially small mouse's ears and nape twitched unwillingly at the sound of Cuffa's second strike, the distant sound of pain that followed being the exact reason he kept his distance from that particular weasel. Nibble, small as he was, managed to be equal parts easy to bully but difficult to find, having long practiced escaping the eyes of the especially cruel whilst still being productive enough to not prompt the ire of weasels who had nothing better to do than find a place to nap. Poking his head up for a peek, the dwarfish rodent first noticed the hedgehog and squirrel pair that, even this late, he could clearly tell had been sizing up the new arrivals. Truth be told, Morgyn had caused a definably greater ruckus than was normal, even for larger, more aggressive beasts. This in turn caused Nibble to keep something of an eye on the potential troublemaker, worrying over what kind of havoc he might cause if fanciful ideas set light to desperate slaves. Fortunately, the squirrel had seemingly kept his head low and out of trouble, so the mouse passed his gaze over to the approach of their new cohorts, mentally checking each one over as best he could should there be need of particular herbs or grasses that he might nab before departing the fields.

[shisteer of nothing much]

  Torgen pushed the door opened and smiled at the weasel within. They weren't particular friends, but they were well acquainted and he was in a good mood. Praff was ready, as always.
  The captain claimed the other seat in the room and relaxed, rocking onto the back legs of the chair as he folded his arms in front of his chest.
  "How's it going, Praff?"

~~~~~

  Morgyn glanced at the otter, revealing sharp teeth as he grinned in reply and shook his head. A guard was passing a bit close for him to answer verbally, so he merely caught Sallow's eye and winked at him. He wasn't expecting agreement, but maybe that would change. Maybe the new arrivals would help him encourage everybeast. Maybe... There were countless possibilities. He chuckled, and then ducked as he caught the attention of one of the weasels, who lashed out with the butt of his spear. He managed to still catch a glancing blow to the head, though, as the weasel snarled at him.
  "Get back t'work."
  Morgyn glared at the beast, but did as he ordered, his mood dampened. Maybe the new arrivals would help, or maybe they'd be discouraged like everybeast else, and the Meat Traders would continue their business uninterrupted.

[JazzOfRedwall98]

Sallow had not returned the grin, instead, flinching at the distant wail of the whipped mouse, and flinching again when Morgyn was struck. He turned away, paws trembling and gasping tightly onto the wooden rake he had been provided with. He waited a bit, and before long, he aimed a cautious, yet sympathetic, glance at the squirrel.

"Y'alright, matey...?" he asked in a gentle whisper.


---


Cuffa could not shake the feeling that somebeast had been watching her. She turned back towards the new meat, her black eyes searching the group of woodlanders. For a moment, she thought she spotted one of them looking back. Cuffa furrowed her brow. It was difficult to make them out, and she was sure that the beast had looked away once they made eye-contact. A low growl rumbled in the she-weasel's throat, before she stalked off, returning the whip to her belt.


---


Indeed, someone had been watching Cuffa just now, one of the newest arrivals to the island, a haremaid with eyes of amber. She met Cuffa's gaze for only a moment, before turning to the volemaid weeping nearby. The hare, Damsey, frowned, before pushing a bit closer to the vole.

"Chin up, wot?" she said in a firm, yet hushed voice. "Sobbin' like that won't do you any good; just lets 'em know you're an easy target. May even send you to the block to shut you up."

Damsey's words did not seem to help the volemaid to calm down. Instead, she began hyperventilating. Some attempted to console her, while others flashed Damsey glares of disapproval. The haremaid's ears fell back. She was only being honest...

Nearby guards, irritated at the noise, began approaching the vole, one raising his spear to wack the poor thing. Damsey acted quickly, smacking the hysterical volemaid across the head.

"I said to be quiet, wot?"

It did the trick, and the volemaid silenced herself. The guards backed off, but the glares from Damsey's fellow prisoners remained.

"Hmph..." she grunted, ears rolling back. "Glare all you want. I did her a favor, don'tcha know...?"

[Dannflower Reguba]

      Praff's examination of the books lining the back wall slowed, "You know darn well you needn't knock when entering the Record hall during my operating hours." A lazy, but attentive eye slid over the captain as the weasel turned to face him, "One might even be convinced you do such to grate on my ears, aye?" Praff himself wasn't quite sure if his own words were supposed to be jest, or a proper complaint, but his observations had told him that results were often better when he made at least one comment that wasn't directly on task. With social mandate now met, he raised pen to paper, "Any loss of personnel, excess expenditures, damage to the ship or cargo to report?" He closed his watch, muffling the mechanical clicks as the two got down to business.

[shisteer of nothing much]

  Torgen's grin broadened at the other weasel's reprimand. It was good to be home.
  He sobered some at the beast's question, a touch of regret flitting over his face. Smuggling was a dangerous business. It was rare he didn't come across some sort of trouble on a voyage, and this time, though comparatively minor, would still leave families grieving.
  "Aye, young Vint got herself captured in Haymund's Crossing. Finished herself off before I had to do it, good beast. Then Dryger finally found something harder than his thick skull when we came across an otter crew just before we got home. No damage to ship or cargo, and we spent less than expected at the ports."
  Vint's death was a shame. She'd had potential and was a fun beast to work with. Dryger had it coming for a long time. The rat's ears seemed to be painted on most of the time, and although the captain wasn't glad of his demise, he took it in stride and was slightly relieved he wouldn't have to worry about the beast disobeying his orders and forcing emergency changes to plan. The beast had caused more than one minor disaster, and he wasn't a weasel anyway, so he was somewhat expendable.
  "Vint's family will be told as soon as we're done here."

~~~~~

  Morgyn got back to work with a will, turning to take a particularly stubborn weed at a different angle as a ruse to wink at the otter, his good mood returning at the beast's question. His comrades were somewhat subdued, but none of them were cowards and they looked out for each other. That had to count for something.
  "I'll be fine. Little bit of bruising maybe, but nothing I haven't encountered before."
  Some of the meat traders were more vicious than others, but they all knew that pelts were as valuable as meat, and were fairly careful not to reduce the value of anybeast's hide. Bruising was fairly common, but punishment rarely broke the skin. Even the whips that were used were thick enough not to cut, though they still hurt like blazes.
  Morgyn's weed came loose suddenly, and he tumbled a bit, knocking Abe's bucket over and spilling the vegetables the hedgehog had harvested. He picked himself up quickly, but still managed to draw the unwanted attention of more than one guard. He sighed and plucked a spike from his fur, setting Abe's bucket to rights as he faced the oncoming punishment.
  Goody. Must be my lucky day. Wonder what kind of mood they're in today?


OOC: One of the guards can be Cuffa if you want, Jazz. Feel free to beat the living daylights out of Morgyn. Could be a fun way to get the ball rolling.

[Dannflower Reguba]

       A moment passed before Praff realized what Torgen had said after reading his own, recording scrawls. Usually dull eyes sharpened, if only a touch at the realization of the loss, "Vint? They got Vint? The other one makes sense, but we lost her too?" This event was no small deal, Vint's side of the family wasn't necessarily powerful enough to raise too big a stink over the matter, but Vint herself was productive, and blossoming well into the roles she was assigned. He looked up, eyes narrowing, though not accusingly so much as unsure, "She had light feet, how did she get snagged? And at Haymund's?-Wait..." He leaned back in contemplation, as the location sparked concerns that lingered from other problems he saw cropping up in the ledgers, "Was Vint nabbed by Southswardian military or another group? Were you entrapped in any way, and did they give any indication of knowing who and what we are?" Even Praff's often even-keeled, spindly voice took a note akin to urgency.

[JazzOfRedwall98]

Sallow flinched again, dread gripping his heart like the talons of some great eagle. All around them, he could see weasels approaching, brows furrowed, whips drawn, and paws ready to deliver blows. He backed away from Morgyn, still gripping the rake the way a Dibbun might have hung on to their favorite blanket. The otter knew what was to come, and he could not bare to watch it. Closing his eyes, he turned away from the squirrel, shivering as he felt a guard push past him.

"Move it, otter," the guard spat. "'Less y'want a taste o' the whip as well?"

Sallow did not need to be told twice, moving further away and occupying himself with some fresh, untilled soil. Dread quickly became guilt.

"I'm so sorry..." he murmured under his breath.


---


Cuffa's discomfort was quickly pushed aside when the opportunity to punish arose again. A squirrel was to blame for the ruckus, it seemed, and Cuffa recognized him. She did not care to learn the names of slaves, but those green eyes of his were quite the distinctive feature. The scarred she-weasel was one of the first to arrive at the scene, and wasted no time in drawing her cutlass and thwacking Morgyn's face with the flat side of the blade. A sudden anger had flared within Cuffa; in truth, she despised these brawnier sorts. Not only did they look less appetizing, but they often times had more fortitude. She hated those who would not tremble in her shadow. She hit Morgyn again, adding a kick for good measure.

"Y'think tha's funny, squirrel?" Cuffa seethed. "Makin' noise? Causin' a scene? I outta run y'through!"

[Dannflower Reguba]

       Nibble hoped against hope that the weasels would just ignore the overturned bucket like the incredibly minor inconvenience it was, but truthfully there wasn't a soul in the fields that didn't foresee the inevitable results. Sniffing anxiously, the mouse's mind raced for a way to safely intervene, and as his memory would have it, not all of the fences in the fields were well-kept. Darting eyes quickly perused the nearby supports, searching for an ideal candidate, eventually coming to a stop on a post surrounded by tall grasses that he knew was rotten through. With guard's backs turned away wholesale, it was an easy matter of brisk patience to navigate himself near enough his target. With Cuffa being kind enough to raise more noise, Nibble made his move, ducking low as he ran up on the fencepost to crash his minute body against the fragile structure. The wooden post shattered in response, collapsing and dropping all of the connected spars in a short, but loud enough report to command attention. The mouse himself stayed low, weaving through the grasses on all fours, making no greater a ripple across the green tips than the passing wind as he made his escape around a rocky outcropping. The distraction would by no means spare Morgyn, but perhaps it would draw just enough attention to shift the weasels' focus such that they would be less interested in prolonging his beating.

[shisteer of nothing much]

  Morgyn screwed his nose up as he saw Cuffa draw her cutlass.
  Apparently a worse mood than usual. This'll be... exciting.
  He only flinched at the first blow, but when the second hit he whimpered, turning his back to the weasel to present the easiest target. A whip hurt like crazy, but when a beast started using the flat of a blade, it was best to make things easy for them, lest they accidentally chop you in half.
  Thankfully the other guards didn't deem it necessary to join in. Everybeast knew Cuffa was perfectly capable of dolling out punishment on her own. The weasel was rather infamous.
  The squirrel glanced up at a sudden noise, frowning as he spied wooden fragments flying into the air and half the far fence come toppling down. It was due for replacement anyway. He wasn't sure if he should be quiet and fade into the shadows, or maybe try and bribe the guards with an offer to fix the broken fence.

~~~~~

  Torgen sighed. He'd been sad to see the young weasel die, but also very proud of her.
  "Smuggling is more about subterfuge than stealth, once you get into port. Light feet don't make too much of a difference once the town watch have started suspecting something. She did well to dispose of the evidence before they caught her. I sent for some reinforcements to break her out of the guardhouse once it got dark, but the beast in charge there had his head screwed on and ordered her taken to Irongate for questioning. When we were close enough to the palace for there to be no hope of rescue, she took matters into her own paws and threw herself back onto a guard's spear. She laughed in the shocked guard's face before she died. I wasn't accosted or questioned, nor was anybeast in the crew, and we left cleanly. Vint had nothing on her person to give away who she was, and she answered no questions. Even if they figured out what she was up to, there was nothing to link her to either the ship or Vodon Hardhammer's business. She will be missed, but I have no reason to believe her capture and death could lead to further problems."
  Torgen frowned as he considered the details, making sure he hadn't missed anything before he gave a firm nod. He'd reported accurately. If Praff needed more details, he'd ask for them specifically. He shook his head to clear it. This was the easy part. The rest of the Baldoshi would be harder to tell, and they would only be practice for when Frann got back. Reporting losses was the least pleasant part of his job, and sometimes it also had an element of danger.

[Dannflower Reguba]

      Nibble's ears twitched to and fro, picking up various complaints from the weasels about the fence. Having put sufficient distance between himself and the damage to avert suspicion, he meandered out of the grass and onto one of the paths, eyes snapping about in search of any item that might assist any excuse he could conjure upon returning. It was always best to have a backup reason for why the overseer's shouldn't spend time tanning one's hide in this place.

*****

       Returning to his recording, Praff noted Torgen's words with careful precision, passing over once again to affirm his accuracy before looking back up to the other weasel, "About as good as can be expected, I'll be confirming witness accounts as well you know, the crew can catch me up to speed on Dryger, though I'm sure it's nothing of consequence. I take it you already distributed the remaining budget amongst the crewbeasts? Was there any notable dissension?"

[The Skarzs]

  Dartur was having a good day. He had just finished a hearty meal and was feeling full, and he heard a ship had brought in some more morsels. The big weasel was meandering down a path when not far in front of him a little mouse hardly more than a bite, scurried out of the long grass. Crouching down in a manner he figured was sneaky, he shambled toward the tiny figure in hopes of catching him unaware. In his mind, he imagined frightening the morsel to death and bringing him to kitchen for his dinner. Dartur stifled a gutteral snicker as he got closer. This would be fun.

[Dannflower Reguba]

       Unnerving sensations started to roll up Nibbles spine, a moment passing before he started to put together just what they were. Those who consumed meat often carried a particular scent around them, the smell intensifying the nearer one was to the time of eating, and the current whiff this little mouse was catching was concernedly strong. With this, the occasional sound of a softly placed foot and an errant breath caused him to turn around before he could brace himself, especially for Dartur's stature and uncomfortable proximity, "EEEE! Ha-HaaAiIIi!" His voice wavered tensely in a pitiful response whilst almost tripping over himself when he instinctively jumped backwards, "Ah-ah-I 'eard the fence collapse o-o'er yonder n' thought I might, ya know, find some'in's that could fix-er-eeer up sees!" Scrambling for words, Nibble did his best to reduce the shaking, looking innocent, harmless, and useful were some of the best defenses to punishments, or potentially in this case, far worse. Trying his best, the mouse pryed his gaze up enough to almost look at the guard, though never quite able to meet the beasts' eyes, "Tha-... That's a'right.... r-right? Sir?"

[JazzOfRedwall98]

The noise stilled Cuffa's paw, the black-eyed guard turning to glare at the wooden post. For a moment, she thought it had finally decided to give way and collapse on itself; it was, after all, an old, rotted post. It might've needed removing, lest some slave decided to throw themselves on it and ruin a perfectly good pelt to spite their captors. Her wrath fading as quickly as it arrived, Cuffa aimed one last look of contempt at Morgyn before shoving his roughly at some other weasel to deal with. He would not show her the fear she craved, anyway.