The Meat Traders of Baldoshi RP

[shisteer of nothing much]

  Torgen paused, considering the question as he took the initiative in route to the lookout. It was a tricky business, especially with Vint gone. It would've been helpful to have another smuggler on the job.
  "A couple of the merchants mentioned increasing their order, so that would help, though not enough. The pirates are always willing to buy more meat, and we can ship to them in larger quantities with less risk. I usually just take them the leftovers, and they'll buy as much as I have, but I do see your point."
  The pirates didn't pay as well as those in Southsward, but they still offered a decent price. The captain reached the top of the hill and looked out, resting a paw on the railing. He could see his ship on the docks, and the line of captives winding their way toward the temple. On the other side of the island, the flour mill was turning lazily, and a tree fell to an axe, while another was being stripped of bark and branches. Beasts, weasels and stock alike, were busy everywhere.
  Torgen glanced at his companion. Operations looked to be going ahead smoothly, but he was a seabeast, unused to the ways of land. No doubt the other weasel would be able to point out several problems.

[The Skarzs]

  Dartur dropped Nibbles, instinctively throwing up his hands to ward off the debris Cuffa had aimed at him. Letting out a roar of outrage, the big weasel lurched forward and reached out to grab the offending party, but he tripped on Nibbles' form and fell heavily to the ground, still hoping to catch Cuffa by her footpaw.



  Kurlan winced as whips were cracked to push the new slaves forward to the processing, and the whole grouped moved up inland. While they walked, he still kept his attention on Damsey. He didn't much care for the haremaid's attitude, but they were all in a precarious position, so he changed his tactic.
  "My Pa always said that if there's only one way to do somethin', then there's always another. Bit daft, really, but it makes sense if'n y' think about it. 'S too late now, but they're the enemies, remember that."

[Dannflower Reguba]

       "Ugh, I'll spare you another thorough explanation on how much I hate dealing with pirates." Praff liked to work with professionals, and his experiences with the rough sea-goers told him they were anything but. He did not trust them, and worse yet, knew the islands own naval power to be lesser than some of the 'local' pirate alliances. They were yet another threat to be balanced, and far more difficult to hide themselves from than Southsward.

       The pair soon mounted the ridge, a frankly beautiful overlook of the otherwise dreary land. Praff passed his other slowly, allowing him a moment to take in the island before tapping him on the shoulder and motioning towards the seaward side. He crossed the small space, it was oddly quiet up here, a sparse few stone furnishings lay about the flat paving, with a tree sprouted up in the middle, making for one of his preferred escapes. Reaching the other side, he pointed out into the ocean beyond, seemingly at nothing at all, "That's Southsward, a startling few horizons away, and the greater concern. We can cut down more woodlanders, we can deal with a coup, we can even stomach wasted product, but the Southswardian navy?" He tilted his head to look at Torgen while still facing the water, dead sincerity in his eyes, "Never on this side of hellgates can we take them." He turned to fully face the captain, lean-sitting nonchalantly against a stone half wall, "And so we hide... yet they know of us, our location and secrecy are our only protection... but for how long? Every captive we take brings a weeping beast or family to the king's feet, and the resulting outrage brings more eyes to the search, each one longer and wider ranging than the last... At what point do they say enough is enough and do something bold, drastic... stealthy perhaps?" Praff intensified his gaze, clearly looking to see if Torgen was piecing together the breadcrumbs he'd laid out.

*****

       Squeaking quietly as he fell, Nibble landed quickly, though he was not swift enough to evade the charging weasel and got somewhat bowled over by Dartur. Hardly worse for wear, he hopped back to his feet and scurried away from the pair, neither bold enough to run, nor patient enough to walk as he forced himself to stand upright, staying clearly visible above the same tall grasses he'd hid in previously so as not to risk tipping his hand to the otherwise preoccupied vermin.

[Cornflower MM]

While the voyage had been relatively short for Bryant Albrush, having been one of the last captives to be taken, it had been extraordinarily hard for him to stomach. He despised Captain Torgen and everything he and his crew stood for on professional, personal, and moral levels - Idly standing by and keeping his head down compliantly made the albino squirrel want to scream instead of turning a blind eye to the abuse and fear spread by the traders. . . And it was only going to get much, much worse now that they were on the island. Still, Bryant had argued for this mission and volunteered for it, despite his superiors deeming it too risky, and he was determined not to blow it prematurely.

      Disembarking the ship proved more eventful than he'd anticipated, however, and while Bryant was too far back in the line to intervene he'd watched the entire situation go down. An ear twitched as he studied Damsey's actions. They were supposed to be staying low and under the radar, not calling attention to themselves like that...

      Turning his attention back to scanning his surroundings as the line continued along, it was easy to note the fenced in fields, the sheds and buildings scattered about and concentrating in what Bryant could only assume to be whatever could be considered a "living area" here- "Hold on now, is that-? Are they fighting?" The squirrel couldn't help a smirk crossing his features as he observed what looked like a budding tussle between two guards. If the traders had high tension within themselves that he could exploit, that would only make Bryant's job easier going forward. Catching the eye of a different weasel walking the line, Bryant quickly schooled his features and dropped his head, making sure his brush dragged on the ground to appear the picture perfect, broken, obedient soul.

[JazzOfRedwall98]

A panicked chirp escaped Cuffa's lips as she dove back, her footpaw just narrowly avoiding Dartur's grasping paw. She tumbled over onto her back in a rather embarrassing display, earning laughter from some of the onlooking guards and even a few slaves. While normally, the she-weasel would lash out insults at such mockery, her fear of Dartur's iron grip far outweighed her pride. She scrambled onto her footpaws, reaching for her whip.

"Stay back!" Cuffa shouted, trying her best to stop her voice from trembling. "Y'great brute...it was a joke! Surely y'know what a joke is, y'overgrown babe!?"


---


"You think I don't know that?" Damsey snorted. "I know what vermin are like, waterdog, and I know how ruthless they can jolly well be." She sighed again, and threw up her paws in defeat. "But...seeing the way everybeast's looking at me, perhaps I was a bit rash."

The hare gazed at the watervole she had struck.

"Apologies, lass. I only wanted you to settle down, wot? Just be grateful I didn't get you with my good paw. You'd really have something to cry about then."

It seemed to be something of a joke, although Damsey's delivery was quite off. The bankvole only nodded, seemingly ready to put the incident behind her. Damsey frowned.

[shisteer of nothing much]

  Torgen cracked a smile at his friend's distaste of pirates. They certainly weren't the nicest creatures to deal with, but he found them quite helpful from time to time, mostly for selling excess goods and, occasionally, livening up his crew when they got too bored. The shabby crews in their barely floating piles of junk didn't worry him.
  The captain wanted to wave away Praff's concerns about Southsward, but the beast was right. It wasn't a large navy, but the ships Southsward had were crewed by experts, both at sailing and fighting. He'd been lucky enough to not encounter the wrong side of many of them, but he shuddered at the memory of a pirate ship taken down by one. They didn't take prisoners.
  All the same, they weren't sitting ducks, and Torgen pointed out the fact.
  "The Navy are powerful, but slower and more awkward than our ships. We can lose them with little effort, and even if they did manage to find us, it'd be next to impossible to get one of their square rigged craft through the maze of underwater traps, and we'd have ample warning to prepare a welcome for them. We're basically untouchable from outside. What are they going to do that's stealthy? Try to navigate the way to our shores in the dark?"
  Torgen had been worried initially by Praff's concerns, but the recorder was not a seabeast, nor a warrior.
  "Poor innocent beasts can cry to the king all they want. We've been avoiding the Ironkin's efforts to stop us for three generations. Nothing is going to touch us here."