Redwall Isn't Safe Anymore! (Is Redwall as Safe as they Say it is? Part Two)

[Groddil]

OOC: I'll start it, I guess. Timeskip!

BIC:

Still seated inside Alfhild's tent, Daxian straightened up, tightening his grip on the crossbow's trigger. He could see the shadows outside, as the form of a ferret got closer and closer to the flap. Finally, his chance for revenge!

*****

Farther north, near the Wetlands, the group of escapists stopped at the treeline, at Mossflower's most northern point. One-Ear glanced over his shoulder, to see the chaos. Screams and the clashing of steel still filled his ears, and flames danced inside the walls. The primarily wooden buildings, and the gas in the bogs, had caused a terrible blaze. The fox dreaded to think what would have happened to them if they had been trapped inside those walls. Ducking through the treeline, the group of travellers soon found themselves at a stream. The squirrel came over to One-Ear.
"Don't worry, I'd already sent a message to the Guosim in this area because Seacloak arrived. To take you back when the time came, y'see. This shrew, Gruddil. He'll be 'ere soon, wid a couple o' long boats."

[Hickory]

Right on cue, the logboats swung around a corner and slowed to stop by One-Ear. "Nice ta see ya, mate," said Gruddil as the shrews shifted aside to make room. The other shrews muttered amongst themselves upon sight of One-Ear's companions, but Gruddil silenced them with a cool glance. "I 'ope you're not scared of a bit of water," joked the shrew. "We'll be taking the rapids back into Mossflower."

[Groddil]

The squirrel shook his head.
"Change o' plans, Gruddil, mate. Half o' us are going further upstream, ta the lagoon, ta meet up with the Log-a-log o' the North. The foxes an' the hare are goin' down th' reapids to the watermeadow an' hoppin' ship ta Filargo's raft. 'Ee'll be there at some point, always stops there once a day. D'ye reckon ye can accommodate that change, bein' at such short notice?"

[Hickory]

"No problem," said Gruddil. "Still going the same direction, aren't I?"

He waited for the others to get in.

[Groddil]

The squirrel and the other two Wetlanders hopped into one logboat, One-Ear and Shadomay boarded Gruddil's craft, and Mortembell unceremoniously dragged Needle into a third. The squirrel and his companions took up some spare oars, and began rowing the craft upstream. It would take them some time, but they would eventually reach their destination. The squirrel yelled over his shoulder just before the logboat disappeared around the corner.
"Aye, same direction! Just pull into the Watermeadow after the rapids an' drop 'em off with some supplies for Filargo. Then ye can go about your business, an' that ole vole'll find 'em afore long!"
Shadomay took one oar and handed it to One-Ear.
"I'll help ye row fer a bit, but I don't know how long. Still pretty weak."
The fox nodded, glancing at the other boat, where Mortembell sat idly, a daggerpoint fixed on Needle. He lowered his voice so that the hare could not hear him.
"That's understandable. But you know what isn't? Needle. I still can't figure out what he has against me. I never did a thing to him, and yet he still stayed loyal to that... beast. Shamolt, that squirrel, said it best, 'Soon, not even fear is enough to keep them in check.' I think he'll denounce that badger soon enough."
Shadomay nodded.
"Aye. I wonder who this Filargo beast is, though. He sounds like an interesting character..."
"Mmm."
One-Ear glanced up at Gruddil.
"We all ready ta go, mate?"

[Ashleg]

OOC-
Slow down for Sand please.
I'll post later.

[Hickory]

"Yeah," said Gruddil. The boats pulled away on his mark, the shrew rowers expertly moving the craft along at a tidy pace.

OOC: Should Gruddil update One-Ear on the situation in Mossflower?

Prezzers: D'oh.

[Groddil]

OOC:

Sage: Might be a good idea.
Prezzers: Mkey. I don't think the Guosim fleet has any Sand charries, though.

BIC:

One-Ear dug his paddle in, keeping in time with the shrews. At one point, the fox glanced at Gruddil.
"You're from Mossflower, right? One of Log-a-log Chrysanthe's shrews? What's the situation there, with Redwall, and the horde?"

[Hickory]

Gruddil frowned. "Not the best. Horde's still going strong, an' Redwall failed a rescue mission. They lost two of their own, the badgermum and that strange rat. They did get Bracklew out, though, but 'e lost 'is paw an' the ferret Rapshade is in the camp. What else...? Yore Vigil is moving underground, Moledeep or something. I'm sure ye'll get the details from that otter Charm."

OOC: Last post for the night, sorry. I REALLY need to go to bed.

[Groddil]

"The Moledeep plan? And its working? Seems like Charm's a natural at running the Vigil. The horde has Rapshade? As a prisoner, or an ally? Wait... Badgermum and rat? Ava and Fangfang? Bracklew lost a paw? What is this? Do you know how many creatures were involved in that rescue mission? Did the Vigil know? Damn it! If the Redwallers just trusted us, we could have helped. Maybe then Ava and Fang wouldn't have had to die... This is ridiculous. What is their problem with us? The reason the Vigil exists in the first place is so that things like this don't happen. So Redwall isn't always in danger. I need to have a few words with the Abbot."

[Hickory]

"Yeah, Mossflower's in bad shape. Asher and his squirrels went with the rescue team. They barely got out alive, from what I've heard they emptied out the entire camp to kill the team."

Gruddil pointed ahead to the large section of frothing water. "There's th' rapids. The rescue team wasn't that large - besides the four squirrels, it was Ava, Duncan, Petu for some reason, and Fangfang. Personally, I wouldn't have sent 'em near the camp without at least twelve shrews."

[Groddil]

"Nor would I. That's ridiculous. Of the four Redwallers, Duncan's the only real fighter. Petu is lucky to be alive, and the other two... Okay, Shamolt said that the water meadow is on the other side of the rapids. So who's this Filargo creature, that we'll be travelling with next? You know him?"

[Hickory]

Gruddil shrugged. "'E's a native, but more o' a hermit than anything else. Trades win us ev'ry once an' a while, but never stays."

He broke off the conversation to focus on the rapids. "Let off on the paddles! Let the water to the work; save your energy for steering!"

The older shrew continued shouting commands as they plunged into the hectic waters. All the passengers were sprayed with a fine mist as the logboats cut through the currents. Gruddil used his paddle to push away from a deadly rock jutting out from the rest. The logboat lurched forward into a steady speed at they fell back into the main current. "That wasn't so bad. The Guosim usually don't go this far north, so I figured bringin' some of the older hands at ridin' rapids should come along to 'elp out the greens."

He patted a younger shrew on the back, who looked like this was his first time traversing the rapids. "Ye did fine. Keep up this work an' you'll be captaining yer own logboat soon!"

"Anything else ye wanted t'know about in Mossflower?" he said, looking back at One-Ear.

[Groddil]

One-Ear shook his head.
"I'll find out soon enough. That looks like the water meadow up ahead, anyway."
Suddenly, a sharp trilling noise rang out across the stream. One-Ear's paw was already at the hilt of the Governor's blade, when a large raft shot out of the water meadow entrance, into the stream ahead of them. A small cabin had been constructed in the center of the raft, with several tall poles littered around it. A line stretched between some of these poles, airing out dirty laundry. Several fishing lines trailed in the water behind the raft, and a large cauldron sat outside the cabin, bubbling with some sort of sweet smell, a tiny fire built underneath it on a fireproof platform. Up front; however, was the raft's owner. A small-ish vole whistling a jolly tune, he brandished a long paddle as he steered the raft around to face downstream. The vole stuck the paddle end under a tree root on the closest bank and hooked the handle into a loop on the raft itself. Swinging around to face the Guosim, he gave a swift salute.
"Oh, 'ello me Spikey Mice Pals. 'Ow's the Union farin' this time o' year? Ahh, ye have passengers, eh? Three foxes, an' a captured 'are. 'Ave ye turned tail an' joined th' vermin?"
The vole giggled, taking a long knife from his belt and twirling it with expertise.
"Ah, but I jest. You there, fox wid one ear. Are ye lookin' ta travel wid Filargo? I got nice 'ammocks, an' nice vikkles."
One-Ear nodded.
"Yes, mister Filargo. We wish to travel with you."
"Hmm, three passengers, and a prisoner. That's a heavy load, Gruddil, me ole pal. 'Specially since most woodlanders'll be scared off by yon foxes, an' th' captive 'are'll make 'em think that Filargo's a badbeast. 'Ave ye brought me compensation, mate? Lot's o good vikkles, or mebbe some o' them beautiful shrew rapiers, eh?"

[Hickory]

"Aye," grumbled Gruddil. He lifted out several sacks and set them on the raft. "Fresh shrewcakes. Well, fresh to an extent. And a few flagons of our special shrewbeer..."

Once the shrews had finished unloading Filargo's "payment," Gruddil stopped by One-Ear. "Good luck, mate," he said. "Hopefully we'll meet again, under better circumstances."

He stepped back into the logboat. "See ye around, Filargo."

The shrews started to paddle away.