Welcome, to our Abbey!

[Hickory]

Asher shouldered his bow and sheathed his dirk."Ashenwyte, we better leave on the double. And don't put that sword away, there may be some leftover Flitchaye to deal with."

[Søren]

Dakar heard the rumble of the table. Realizing that he had probably been discovered, he grabbed everything he could and darted from the kitchen. He ran out of the room, unsure of what to do. He tried to find a hiding place. Running around frantically, he found a small door that lead down to a dark room. Slowly, he ran down through it. He stepped into what appeared to be a cellar. Lined with walls of various kinds of ales and drinks, he's thirst took over. He found a low hanging barrel and stabbed at it with his sword, hoping to create a small hole to drink from.

[Ashleg]

"Wait!" Roscoe shouted, darting out after Dakar and giving chase. He stopped outside the cellar door and sniggered. "Yer scared o' me? Stabbin' barrels t'death ain't gonna do you any good." He mused, reaching for his dagger. "Coward."

[Lady Ashenwyte]

Ashenwyte bounded through the woods, spraying dirt and shrubbery everywhere. He stopped at the river edge, drew his sword, and sat down at the river's edge. He took a horn and blew it and smiled. The time had come.

[LT Sandpaw]

Casta slowed down and accepted the sling, nodding his thanks wrapping the weapon around his wrist for safe keeping.
"Come otter, lets go."

[Abbess Mhera]

Fern smiled at him and clapped his shoulder lightly. "The name's Fern, matey" she said, before she took off running again. Her javelin was clutched tightly in her paw, she had a feeling she would soon need it.

[Søren]

Dakar turned to face Roscoe.
"Coward?! COWARD?! At least I have the state of mind to get things done! To survive! You hide underneath tables, squirming and waiting for me to leave! If ANYONE is a coward, it's YOU!!" Dakar moved close to the vermin, and drew his sword. "Go ahead! Take your dagger! Make my day!"

[Hickory]

OOC: Scar, what wil we do with the flirtchaye. Are we free to PP them?

[LT Sandpaw]

Casta grinned back footpaws pounding as they ran. "I'm Casta, comrade." A small bead of sweat dribbled down his nose, he blew it off slight weariness dragged at his limbs, he had been fighting and running for some time now, he could only keep this up for so long. Ignoring the slight burning in his limbs he concentrated on the pounding of his paws on the ground.

[Ashleg]

OOC- Yeah, sure. 

IC-
"M-make yer day? Ych! You'll make my day...Okay? Bring it on, old man! Nobeast calls me a coward an' gets away wi' it!" Roscoe exclaimed, taken aback by all the yelling at first, but soon pulled his dagger out and lunged at Dakar with a growl.

[Hickory]

OOC: Ooo, a fight!

BIC: Asher dropped down from an oak and looked around. Sure enough, a halfscore band of Flitcheye was hanging around. Asher slid an arrow from the quiver and picked a target.

[Søren]

"I just did!" Yelled Dakar. He hated when people called him old, as he was no more then 16.  This drove him to a level of anger he rarely felt.
Drawing his sword, he charged ahead at Roscoe, swing his sword in a wide, deep sweep across the middle.

[Lady Ashenwyte]

The badger got up and left the river, his secret desire fulfilled. He dropped on to his four legs and ran all the way near the Abbey, where he accidentally crushed a Flitchaye warrior.

[Ashleg]

The blade caught Roscoe mid-leap, cutting into his leg and leaving a long diagonal slash mark.
The runtish weasel cried out in pain and fell on the ground beside Dakar.
Covering the scar in an effort to stop the blood with his free paw, he whipped his dagger out at his opponent's footpaw.

[Lady Ashenwyte]

The badger got up and started attacking them, slaying some using brute force.