Footfighter's Camp

[Tale Weaver]

Briante felt a bead of sweat trickle down her noise tip but she did not reach to wipe it off. She studied her opponent as they took a moment of stillness during the middle of their duel. The hare held her twin rapiers in the firm grasp of a trained swordsbeast. Each of the keenly edged blades was wrapped in a strip of oiled bark cloth to keep their blows from inflicting injury. This was a friendly duel, something she often enjoyed to take part in with others from her band.

"Ach but you've got some moves there mate... been practicin' 'ave ye?" She bantered with the other beast while flexing her grip of her blades. "Let's 'ave one more go eh?"

With that the leader of the traveling footfighters made a leap forward, slicing in with both blades.

The footfighters were camped at the edge of the sand dunes that lead towards the shore of the southern continent. They had roamed from far inland and earned a breath a couple days in length camped near the sea shore. Most of the beasts in the footfighter band relaxed and enjoyed the brief respite. They knew all too soon their leader's whim would send them on another trek. However, that was the life they had signed into. Nobeast was part of the footfighters on order, they had joined of their free will and the invitation of Briante.

The sun began to sink towards the horizon. Dinner would be served and camp would be made for the night. It was pleasant out on the salt marshes and dunes... almost too peaceful.

[The Skarzs]

***
Reahn stepped back with a grunt as he moved his own sword to strike the swinging blades, going immediately back into a better position. He breathed through his nose and out through his mouth, something he was taught many seasons ago to keep from becoming dizzy too easily in a fight.
"I've been practicing since I could hold something I could fight with," he said bluntly.
The large hare took a step forward, the sand under his feet flying out like a wave, and made a sharp jab, drawing his sword back quickly to make a swift diagonal cut. He had not intended to do much other than distract his opponent with his jab, making room for his secondary attack.
He would not let it show, but Reahn was frustrated with Briante's twin blades; it was the one thing he had little experience against. Certainly he could attempt to use his large size and strength to force his opponent down, but that was a desperate last-attempt method that he only used when he intended to kill his combatant. This was not such a time; as much as he was disloyal to Briante, she was the leader of their group, and removing her would only cause problems to the Footfighters as a whole as well as to himself.
Another reason he found this match a challenge was because of his size; Briante was small and quick, and he had to take extra care to avoid her stinging weapons. On the battlefield, where groups of creatures would fight, his stature was intimidating and helped, but he hadn't been in such a large skirmish for a while, not since a couple seasons after he joined the fighting unit.
He had since gotten accustomed to the way of life he now led, constantly on the stop and go, eating when food was ready, and sleeping when it was dark. His nostrils filled with the smell of food cooking, and he knew he would get his ration after this duel was complete.
Maybe if he could maneuver her so that she was looking toward the sun. . .

[Dannflower Reguba]

       The still night made for quite the picturesque moment as the sun painted the sky with its' evening shade. A cool breeze interrupted the lazy air, though Aurin was perfectly fine with the new smell the breeze brought on, pleasant aromas of the salty sea, as well as tantalizing wafts that depicted dinner clearly to the imagination. Sadly, the dark furred squirrel lacked the time to fully appreciate what his nose offered him, as he was in the midst of his own heated duel with that confounded hare Serge Longscut.

       Aurin Windbourne, the shadow of the Footfighters, never got along with his adversary. This same duel had happened many a time, though he himself made sure his hubris was in check when considering another fight. This time was no different, another disagreement that flared and immediately turned into a challenge. But, now was not the time to reflect; now was the time for action. They had spent far too much time circling and "poking"  at one another. He counted his breaths, preparing mind and body for the start of what would almost certainly be an intense dance of blunted metal. 

       He hop-skipped the two paces that lay between the combatants and chopped straight down with his previously raised Katana. Aurin quickly followed up with a double switch-back swing, raising the sword and sweeping right, down, left and back up for an underhanded swing at hip height. This strike repeated itself on the other side with twice the speed of the first. His initial assault completed, he just as quickly fell back a pace to provide room for parrying the inevitable counter-attack, "Come come, dinner spoils as you wait you walking stomach, I'd have thought the smell of food would've roused you... Getting lazy now aren't you."

[The Mask]

***

Serge always found sand odd. The grit and roughness was very different to what he was used to in the forest. But this was not the time for pondering. Aurin Windbourne was sending blows in fast in all directions and it took all his skill to block them. The squirrel was fast, but this was not their first fight. He already a few bruises but he was determined.

How had this duel started anyway? Maybe something about a piece of food? Yet again Serge Longscut got distracted from the fight. And then an opening, Aurin had stepped back. Serge wasted no time in attacking, whirling the blade of his kusarigama before throwing it straight at Aurin's leg.

"Yah! Take this you rascal!" Serge shouted as he brought his weapon back before it struck and rushed at Aurin with a the blade in his hand. 

[Cornflower MM]

Bryony Coldwater was humming rather cheerfully, and rather out of tune, as she chopped up some onions. "Hey, Bernie, could you stir my soup?" She asked the male mouse who was on dinner detail with her. The otter swiped her paw across her eyes - The onion was making them water. Starting on the last one, she ran her mind over the menu: Hotroot 'n' watershrimp soup, onion and carrot flans, with a tasty wild raspberry and blackberry tart to finish, and blueberry cordial to wash it all down.

[Thomas Barkshield]

"Righty ho, Bryony" Bernie replied. He paused from kneading the crust for the flans, and stirred the soup. Using a quick bit of sleight of hand he emptied the contents of a small pouch from his pack containing a special variety of hotroot pepper. He snickered slightly as the hotroot was, in a word, powerful. He made sure the pepper was well mixed in and continued to work on the flans. " Hey Byrony, your an otter aint you? Have you ever heard of ghost hotroot before?" He said with a grin playing around his face. He finally finished working the dough and passed it to Byrony for the filling.

He started on the tart shells and began to think about the strange otters he had got the hotroot from. They had been kind to him but there had always been an air of hostility, as if they ere only helping because they had to. He decided toask byrony about it. She was an otter, and might know them. " Have you ever met a pair of otters living along the river moss in a little old hut, about midway between here and Redwall?"

[Cornflower MM]

"Thanks, Bernie." Bryony said with a quick grin as she received the dough. "Ghost hotroot? Hmm, sounds familiar. And, no Bernie, I can't say I have met them." She replied, her brow furrowing in concentration as the otter tried to remember if she had ever heard of ghost hotroot, or met the otters Bernie was talking about. As Bryony started putting in the onions and carrots, Bryony exclaimed, "Wait! Yes, I have heard of ghost hotroot. Why, Bernie, did you put it in my soup?!"As she put gravy n the flans, she gave the mouse a searching look.

[Thomas Barkshield]

"Oh heavens no, I was merely wondering because those otters gave me a pouch which I have NOT put in your soup" He replied while looking quite indignant. "Now where did you put the cordial for tonights dinner?" He inquired. "Those pesky hares haven't made off with it have they? If we cant find it we'll have to make due with water." 

[Cornflower MM]

Bryony shook her head, while putting the last bit of filling into the last flan shell. "Bernie, you better not have. And the cordial is right over here, behind you." She replied, pointing with her paw as she started preparing the tart filling. As the otter very slightly mashed the berries, for the juice, Bryony started wondering if the fight would be done before dinner.

[The Skarzs]

Reahn considered how he had gotten into this predicament, why Briante had chosen him to spar with. Perhaps it was his size, making him easy to spot and choose. Then again, it could have just been chance; she did make sure everyone had their fair share of bouts.
This fight was particularly pointless, in one way: If Briante won, she would insist that he get more practice, and the two would probably end up fighting again soon. However, if the big hare was the victor, she would certainly call for a rematch. Sighing inwardly, Reahn paid attention to the fight.

[Tale Weaver]

Briante moved with an easy grace as Reahn made his attack. It was a good one and she narrowly missed being struck by the diagonal slash. However, she was always the agile hare and was able to step nimbly to one side just in time. Her twin blades flashed in the last rays of the sun as she skipped forward and slashed one of her blades to counter the attack the larger hare had made.

"You were allus the serious one weren't ya Reahn?" She eyed him for a moment before allowing a smile to play on her features. "I guess you'd need teh be livin' the sort of life we lead eh?"

She swung her other blade in for a final assault, slicing down from shoulder height to waist level. Reahn was one of the best swordsbeasts in the group and she really had only challenged him to a spar for the enjoyment of crossing blades with somebeast.

Though it was late in the day a certain level of humidity persisted. Briante found herself covered in a light layer of sweat as she prepared to counter the hare's next move. The smell of dinner had begun to waft on the air. She would soon call a halt to the day's activities so her clan could come together for a meal.

[The Skarzs]

*
Reahn was slightly disappointed that he had missed, but that was how fighting worked: you made a move, your opponent does something with said attack, and everyone's actions are reliant upon the other's. Funny how that worked. No matter how little skill anybeast had, they could still react and change whatever plans one had in an instant; such was fighting.

"Yes, I'm serious. Life did that to me," he said, backing up quickly as Briante attacked again. He grunted as her rapier knocked painfully against his left forearm, but he couldn't stop his downward chop he had thrown against the smaller hare. He could try to avert it, but she would, hopefully, block it, and if he did move it's path, the fight would be over as soon as an opening in his defense was made.

At the rate this is going, Reahn thought as a bead of sweat trickled slowly down his face, running off his snout. This is going to be a draw.

[Dannflower Reguba]

***      

      Aurin was, to say the least, unimpressed. He calmly flicked the wooden weapon into the ground before it could reach him, though judging by the speed with which it was taken back, it hadn't been an actual attack anyway. The squirrel humored himself with a brief, yet satisfying roll of the eyes, "Only a fool would announce that he is on the assault before he actually attacks. Then again, Serge's foolishness was never in question. He's certainly the most brain dead beast I've yet to meet." Sighing, he refocused on the confrontation at hand. His opponent charged, but waited far too long to strike, "My turn again it would seem."

      Black northern steel thrummed through the air as Aurin spun the blade backwards in his paw in such a way as to swing straight up Serge's body as he thundered forward. He carried his momentum off to the left, spun, and struck sideways from the right side; his aim was centered on the midriff. Though he was not one to mince words, the squirrel was never adverse to mincing a cause of such extreme aggravation. This, in turn, made him far more comfortable with using less.... "accommodating," fighting techniques. He secretly drew one of his throwing knives, and made his intended final offense. Raising the darkened blade, he threw his entire body into a downward swing straight at the hare's dinky head, but this was just to occupy his adversary's weapon. The knife revealed itself for a fraction of a second as a dark furred paw thrust the much shinier blade straight for the gut.

      The heat of the day was making itself known, causing some perspiration now that activity had raised Aurin's blood. The fighting had distracted him from the smells he had previously been enjoying, and he took this breather to sample the aromas once again, "Hotroot soup!? It's been far too long since I've tasted a good dish of that. The smell seems different somehow though, almost burns the nose." It was sad really, getting all worked up just before supper. He set his mind on ending the duel now, even if the hare managed to stop his last attacks and strike back, he would offer up stalemate as the end result of this particular instance, albeit grudgingly.

     

[The Mask]

Serge was finally getting into the fight when he got knocked out. "Why don't ye take yer head outta ya backside squirrel?" he cried as he blocked the onslaught of attacks. Then Serge saw the small blade. "Ah, fightin' dirty are we wot wot?" he muttered as he prepared to end the battle then. But the blade...it was in his father's head...

The memory was painful to say in the least. Coming into the house. Seeing a blade in his father's head and hearing mother screaming from the bedroom. Fighting away a fox from his mother's now dead body. With a gasp Serge jolted back to the duel.I can't keep getting distracted,Serge thought,It's gonna cost me mah life soon.

This memory had made Serge lose the plot so when Aurin made his final attack Serge missed the katana completely and focused on blocking the knife. Clunk! The sword made a loud noise as it hit Serge's head. The hare went out like a light.

[Thomas Barkshield]

Bernie was finishing up his contributions to the evening meal and started to clean the cooking utensils. "Would you like to hear a tale of my daring do while I wash up, Byrony?"