The Meat Traders of Baldoshi RP

[shisteer of nothing much]

  Torgen nodded, placing the small bag on Praff's desk that contained the rest of their cash profits, after the crew had been paid.
  "No dissent. I keep my crew happy. Is that everything you need, then?"
  The captain didn't move to rise from his seat just yet. He was in no rush, and the other weasel's company wasn't so bad that he was desperate to escape from it. He'd let Praff dismiss him before heading off.

~~~~~

  Morgyn stretched his back as Cuffa's attention turned away from him. He'd have to thank whoever had created the distraction later. He had a fair idea who it might be, but he wouldn't mention any names.
  The squirrel froze as the weasel's eyes returned to him, but relaxed as she shoved him aside and strode off to deal with the new offender. The other weasel looked him up and down, decided he'd had enough punishment, and shoved him back to weeding the garden.
  Morgyn offered an apologetic smile to the hedgehog, who had been unable to rescue his vegetables from the angry paws of the guards.
  "Sorry about that, Abe. Clumsy me."

[The Skarzs]

  Dartur laughed a laugh as ugly as his smudged face. "Huh huh guh huh huh! Almost got ya, li'l thing! Whatchu doin' 'way from d' others, eh?"
  He scratched his lumpy chin as the mouse stammered something hardly understandable, though Dartur was hardly listening. Reaching out a grubby claw, he poked Nibbles in the ribs, checking his vitality. Small, very small, he thought.
  "C'mere, les'go back an' getchu somethin' to fat you up, you ain't grown yet." He attempted to pick up Nibbles and carry him away toward Cuffa, who would surely get this choice cut up to the big weasel's standards.

[Dannflower Reguba]

       Praff nodded along as Torgen spoke, one paw pulling the bag closer and loosening it so he could take a peak inside, an eyebrow raising momentarily as he appraised the contents. Looking back to the captain, he closed his eyes to concentrate on his calculations, letting Torgen's question hang in the air briefly before speaking, "Excluding the payout, how much stock did you bring back this go around?"

*****

       No more than a timid squeak issued from Nibble's mouth as Dartur hoisted him helplessly into the air, panic setting in more severely as the weasel expounded on his intentions, "HIiieek! Uh-buh-bu-but I's notta foods! Ah swear its!" Mouse legs and paws swung loosely as he instinctually resisted, if only half-heartedly, in knowing futility. It wasn't long at all before the odd pair turned the corner back towards everybeast else, an opportunity Nibble took to survey the surroundings once more, now from his significantly greater height. The chance was quickly stifled as his blood ran like ice and his eyes carefully dropped downwards, Cuffa and one or two other problem weasels were still here, a fact the mouse had promptly forgot upon being snatched up by the brute who's paw he still hung from.

[shisteer of nothing much]

  Torgen grinned, easing back in his chair. He'd wondered if the other weasel was going to ask, or had gotten distracted with his bad news, but Praff was a reliable beast and didn't let details like that slip.
  "Thirty-five beasts. Most of them are fairly strong and healthy, though a few could do with fattening up. The cages were a little crowded coming in. Had to secure a couple of beasts on deck."
  The weasel had been more than pleased with his haul of thirty, but the attacking otter crew had provided an unmissable opportunity, even if it meant holding some of the less fiesty beasts outside the cages for a while. There was no need to brag. The bare facts were impressive enough.

[JazzOfRedwall98]

As Cuffa was contemplating which of the other guards she would bully into overseeing the post removal, she perked, seeing the approaching Dartur and some small, unimpressive-looking mouse. She could recall overhearing about the existence of a little mouse among the meat. Not fat enough for the chop, by the look of him. Cuffa approached, paws on her hips and sneering at Dartur.

"Didn't think y'had the brains t'catch a beast tha' small, Dartur," she scoffed, venom in her voice as she spoke the male weasel's name. She did not get too close, however; she was no fool, and Dartur, much to her chagrin, was dangerous. "Must be sick an' dyin'. Only way you had any real chance, hehe."

[The Skarzs]

  Dartur lowered Nibble to the ground, though he did not release him. Scratching his stomach contemplatively, he squinted his eyes at Cuffa.He had never eaten weasel before. Of course, the female guard might taste as sour and grizzled as she was on the outside.
  "Dis un ain't full-growed yet. Give it some better food, I wanna see how big it'll get. If it's sick, fix it! Dat's what you're 'apposed to do. My job is ta keep 'em all 'ere for you, huh, an' I'm good at it."

[JazzOfRedwall98]

"Bah!" Cuffa waved her paw. "Y'got lucky, is all. I could've caught the mouse twice as fast if it weren't fer these noisy, good-fer-nothin' slavebeasts distractin' me. Anyway, y'best be givin' that'un t'me. Why don't y'make yerself useful and get rid o'tha' post? Can an oaf like you accomplish tha'?"

Glancing Nibble over, Cuffa couldn't help agreeing that the mouse needed fattening up. Not that she would give Dartur credit for his observation at all. He was already stronger than her; she did not need him feeling smarter, as well.


---


Things seemed calmer now, Sallow noticed. He snapped out of his self-induced trance and looked up from his work. Aside from Cuffa and Dartur's distant back and forth, the guards did not appear to be as hostile as they once were. The otter sighed in relief, before stealing another glance towards Morgyn. A great shame clutched at his heart, and his ears fell as he turned away. He was happy that the squirrel seemed relatively unharmed, but hated himself for simply standing by and unable to help. It was nothing new, but it stung all the same.

[The Skarzs]

  Dartur hid Nibbles behind his back like a child hiding a candied chestnut from a reprimanding parent. "No, s'mine! I found the mouse. Any'ow, why should I? An' why should I do the dirty work, that's what the slaves is for! Mama says I gotta keep this shirt clean or she'll make me eat my own tail, an' I don't wanna eat my own tail! Why don't you dig up the post?"


  Back with the new arrivals, a young male otter stared hard at Damsey. Kurlan was his name, and he was not fond of bullies. There seemed to be enough of those among the vermin surrounding the group, so they didn't need more from within. Sidling up beside the volemaid, he put a protective paw around her quivering shoulders and spoke to the haremaid.
  "Ain't no reason to 'ave hit her, longears, even if she was puttin' up a racket. We ain't gonna last long here if'n we don't stick together, so next time lend a paw instead o' layin' about with one."

[JazzOfRedwall98]

Cuffa's nose wrinkled with indignation at the suggestion that she should stoop as low as to do slave work. She spoke again through gritted teeth.

"You an' yer ma afraid o' dirt, aye? Hmph. By the scent o' ye, I'd say you'd be right at home in the filth." A sly smirk then formed on Cuffa's scarred face. She glanced down at the soft earth beneath her footpaws. "Heh, mayhaps I can help with yer fears." She bent down to scoop up a pawful of grass and soil, and her smirk widened into a mad grin as she flung it towards Dartur. "Try some o' this on fer size! Hahaha!"


---


Damsey met the otter's stare and folded her arms across her chest.

"Spare me the lecture, waterdog," she huffed, her nose twitching with annoyance. "Like I said, I did her a favor. Those vermin would have beaten her black an' blue. Might have even killed her, wot? She should be thanking me." The haremaid then sighed, shaking her head and speaking in a somewhat calmer tone. "It's not as if I wanted to. Desperate times call for desperate measures and whatnot..."

[shisteer of nothing much]

  Morgyn was feeling a trifle too stiff and sore to cause much of a scene, but he watched with interest as the two weasels squabbled. Nibbles was... well, one of the subjects of their argument now, but the little mouse seemed largely forgotten, from what he could tell. He shook his head sympathetically and pulled out another weed.

[Dannflower Reguba]

       "THIR-!?" Praff leaned forward suddenly in response to Torgen's words before he managed to cut himself off and stand up. The generally blank weasel was more than clearly steamed by the offered information as he performed a handful of tight circuits around his now abandoned chair. Somewhat composing himself, he turned back to the sea beast, frustrated indignation laced through his words, "Thirty five!? How many more times am I going to have to call for cutbacks before yer listen!?" Every so often, when the highly professional record keeper was ruffled enough, his excellent grasp of common would slip into a more traditionally vermin drawl, and now was one such time, "Frann n' Vildor've been list'nen juss' fine, 'ow much feedin' does yer bloody pride require!?" Punctuating his final word with an uncharacteristic slam on the prized desk, Praff rather literally attempted to unwind himself by repeating his circling, counterclockwise this time. Truth be told, he really did respect Torgen's work, and in some fashion, perhaps even envied the gusto his compatriot put behind everything he did, it was a sensation the unmotivated recorder simply did not understand. Completing his second round of pacing, he looked the captain square in the eyes, arms crossed as he did his best to explain his problem as to a valued resource as opposed to an unruly babe, "Your ability has never been in question Torgen, and come such a time when we need to drastically increase our stock, I'll gladly inform you before you leave." He looked down and away, contemplating a new thought that had come to mind. Stepping around his workstation and making way to the door, Praff offered an alternative olive branch, "Come brother, walk with me, mayhaps my reasoning will stick better if you stop to see for yourself. You are quite busy abroad after all, perhaps you've nay looked about your home recently enough to grasp my concerns."

[shisteer of nothing much]

  Torgen grinned at the beast's initial response, lifting a curious eyebrow as he watched Praff circle his chair like some sort of predator. He couldn't imagine the furniture tasting too nice. The beast would be better off taking out one of his prisoners. Torgen was rather partial to hare, and he'd found a few of the longeared creatures.
  His grin faltered as the weasel turned to talk to him, his usually refined handle on the language dropping to slang. The beast must be serious. He drew breath to answer a few times, but wasn't given a chance, and then the beast was back to pacing, though this time he didn't look quite so ready to attack his seat, and Torgen decided to take advantage of the silence.
  "We can always just send 'em to the chopping block if we don't need 'em for breeding."
  Butchering usually happened closer to the full moon, but he was sure exceptions could be made.
  Torgen relaxed slightly as his companion stopped pacing and talked in a more reasonable, though still slightly frazzled, tone. He did remember the record-keeper telling him they didn't need any supplies, and that there was plenty of stock too, but most of the beasts he'd brought home had been opportunities too good to miss, and a few had been far too suspicious of his operations to leave alone. The offer for a walk was unexpected, but welcome, and he rose to his paws.
  "It has been a while. Last time I was home I only stopped for two days to pick up more supplies. It would be nice to have a look around again."

[Dannflower Reguba]

       Praff threw on his cloak, hanging next to the door which he promptly opened, waiting for Torgen to pass before crossing the threshold and gently shutting it behind himself. Then proceeding to lead the captain for a comfortable but thorough jaunt through the premises whilst the recorder made his case, "Although convenient, if we harvest too many of the woodlanders in too short a time, that same fear and apprehension that we use to keep them inline can quickly turn into a desperation so fierce they are pushed to fight. Bad for us, and even worse for business- Ah, first stop." The pair had arrived at the primary holding pen for those deemed not-food, Praff slowing their pace as he spoke again, "Take your time and look, seeing as you're a captain, I presume you noticed already, but pay special attention to just how many bodies we have down here since the last time you really took it in."

[shisteer of nothing much]

  Torgen nodded at the weasel's words. What he said made sense. Ruling by fear was always a fine line. It was one of the reasons he always made a point of being as bloodthirsty and handy with a blade as he claimed he was. On board ship, the tactic worked splendidly, but he could see how it wouldn't really work on land, and how being forced to kill all your stock to put down an uprising would be bad for business.
  He stopped as they arrived at one of the main holding pens. There were another dozen in this 'street', each being the home to the female breeding population of a different species. They typically held between forty and fifty adult beasts, as well as their babes, but it only took a glance to recognize they were well over that number. The pens weren't packed, but they were much more crowded than they should be.
  "I can definitely see the problem, but I should think narrowing numbers down shouldn't cause too much of a fuss. An extra batch every ten or so days would be more than manageable. I'm planning to stick around for a little while, so I can help out if the butcher gets overwhelmed."

[Dannflower Reguba]

       "I have it on quite good authority that tensions are already stretched, but we've more than head count to consider, come, I don't like to tarry around this place." Praff continued the walk, ascending once more the rolling island, espying the line of captives on the way, and even having a brief overview of the happenings in the field a couple terraces down from the pair of weasels. Mentally cataloging names and events below quickly, he turned back to his companion to offer another leading question, "Let us set aside the matter of insurrection and suppose we did increase our turnover at the butcher," he turned his head more directly to Torgen, attempting to engage with him a bit more intentionally on his proposed hypothetical, "Who then, do we sell it to? Being as the law does not stand between those of Baldoshi and our own prized meats, it is easy to forget just how novel our product is on the mainland, novelty wrought from the difficulties of transportation and sale. With that in mind, we're already ahead on orders, even as we search for new and replacement vendors, our ability to preserve and store is at its' limit, I'm sure you of all beasts knows just how short lived our quality cuts are. So, I ask again, who do we sell to?" Praff slowed himself down, allowing Torgen to take the lead both in their walk and conversation, they were almost to the watcher's rise anyway.