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Sgts. Terrence and Zolomon, hares.

Zolomon had oversleep, something he hadn't done in a long while.He groans as he opens his eyes and tries to figure out where he is. It seems the strong ale made his memory of the tavern a little fuzzy. He sits up slightly and is a bit dizzy.

As with most mornings during this mission, Terrence was having a bad one. The previous day Zolomon had been given some leave (with Terrence's private objections unsaid) and the resulting brawl in the tavern left a civilian rat dead. Not to mention the breach of protocol of a NCO being drunk while technically on mission and in the field - and the fact the other sergeant started the fight didn't help matters at all. So with his mind made up Terrence marches right up to Zolomon's quarters with two privates behind him and forces a polite cough (instead of knocking on a nonexistent door).

"Sergeant Zolomon," the words are formal, "Would you step outside fo'h a moment." It isn't a request.

Zolomon frowns, he gives a snort. "Go away Terrence." He states grumpily but does stand after a few moments and shakes his head, looking a bit not so great as he steps out and in front of Terrence. "Wot?"

"That is sergeant Cadwalladeh to you, sergeant Anderson." Terrence is in no mood for this today. "You'll do well to remembah that - " The tall sergeant is fuming, his anger having been built over the past weeks simmering just beneath the surface. Still, he's in control. "Now then, sergeant Anderson, you can probably guess why I am here."

Zolomon folds his arms over his chest, "To be annoying?" Likely not the best thing to say, " Look, I blooming well have a very bad headache so maybe we can talk later. "

Taking a deep breath, Terrence raises an eyebrow. "I'll be fa'h worse than annoying if you carry on in that tone, Zolomon." The words are hissed and he takes a step forward, leaning into the other sergeant's face. "You stay right were you are, you bloody leveret, until I'm through with you."  Another deep breath and the buck's once again calmer, straightening up, and there almost a hint of embarrassment in response to his own outburst. "You've been trouble sergeant, and if you continue to be so I will see you removed form this blasted mission and the Long Patrol if I can - especially if you insist on starting fights and getting innocents killed like yesterday."

Zolomon starts to push Terrence but thinks better of it, but he does glare. "I didn't get no hare killed... I would remember." He does his best to be... calmish, " I remember a stoat... he tried to stab me but... guess missed"

Terrence steps back as he is pushed, and while Zolomon stopped the intent was clear. With a flash in his eyes the sergeant throws a hard punch to the other hare's stomach, not carrying if he fully makes contact or not. "A rat died as collateral in that fight, you-" 

Zolomon was not planing on a fight, but then Terrence just had to go and punch him in the stomach and cause him to stumble backwards. He coughs and even throws up a bit, he narrows his eyes and truly goes to shove the other Sargeant now! "Rats are... vermin." He says coldly and goes to attempt go punch Terrence.

"ZOLOMON!" The blow grazes his cheek, but Terrence's feet are firmly place. He steps back placing some distance between the two and his paw grips his saber hilt once again reigning in his anger (or attempting to, at the very least). "Zolomon.I'm warning you - I'm the stronger hare; you won't win a fight, no'h will it help you much in a court-martial."

Zolomon breaths in and out, he is peeved. "Court Martial?!...wot..." He looks at the saber and makes a fist but stays where he is not moving yet.

"You're out of line, sergeant," Terrence rolls his shoulders, his cheek bruising, "And you have been a hindrance this entire mission. Regardless of what the commanding office'h has done o'h said o'h ordered, and regardless of you'h rank, I'm ordering you to be confined to you'h quarters until such time the patrol can deal with you properly."

Zolomon snorts, " We are de same rank, you can't order me to do anything.  I have helped while here." He has done  a little, deliver a message or walk around on his own guard duty. He also helped fix a roof cause he was told to help.

"I hold seniority ovah you by several seasons." Terrence is impatient now, wanting the business to be done. "You're actions yesterday and you'h disregard fo'h respect of the commanding officeh speaks fo'h itself. You're unfit fo'h the role you're supposed to fill, and as fo'h you'h help - you've treated the hares poorly because you can't get ovah the fact someone fa'h away died while being blind to that fact that if you insight the local populace - like you have been, you blasted fool - you'll get the hares around you killed. Am I understood?"

Zolomon rolls his eyes, he speaks " And some here are...rude. And that someone was my friend, that vermin killed, and wot we should do with Halyard is clean it up of vermin, you even said once scum live here, so why not be rid of the scum and make it safer here and I plan to...to get even with de stoat. He DID try to kill me." He frowns. " Not sure how..got back here but..who knows. "

Terrence steps forward again, his voice a threat. "Zolomon. What were General Quinten's orders? We are here to help, not kill, and I don't care if they were 'rude' - go whine about it to someone else. Hellsgates, I feel some sympathy fo'h sto-" He stops himself, realizing the implication. "That was out of line on my part." Whether he is speaking of what he just said or referring to half of Halyard's residents as scum (or both) is unclear.

Zolomon folds his arms over his chest "Help..out,  rebuild dock which we are doing. But dangerous beast still are here, wot of them? Wot of that...Brutus stoat. Wot if he comes around again?"

"Then a more level headed hare," Terrence shouts the next words, fully aware of the irony, "LIKE THE DAMN GUARDS WE POSTED, can deal with Brutus. The stoat's none of you'h concern anyway, as stated before - you're to remain here and I will have hares watching you."

Zolomon lifts a fist as if to punch the other hare but then just lets the fist drop to his side. "Wot ever." He says and then. " wot else should I know?"

"This -" Terrence had marked well how many times Zolomon has threatened to attack, even if he never followed through the sergeant was tired of it. He draws back his own fist and launches a savage right hook at the other hare's face, aiming to floor him. "-You cannot raise you'h paws to anothah hare - especially an officeh o'h NCO - and expect to always get away with it, you bloody little - gah! And before you start about me striking first you raised you're paws before, ovah and ovah."

Zolomon was not expecting to be punched back, he gets a good right hook to the right cheek and stumbles backwards.He spits some blood as that loosened a tooth.He stands and his right cheek swollen, he then mutters something and lunges at Terrence!

Terrence rocks back to receive the lunge, stumbling slightly, though manages to throw his left paw forward in an uppercut as Zolomon comes upon him. The result is the other hare dazed, and Terrence collects himself for a solid minute, breathing heavily to weight of what just happened settling in. "You damned fool Zolomon - why couldn't you just stayed to sulk in the mountain?"  Afterwards he waves over the two privates who had initially followed him, gesturing them to guard. "Keep watch ovah him till I send another pai'h to relieve you two - and get something fo'h the pain he'll surely feel waking up, he'll need it." Pinching the bridge of his snout, he mutters something else, shaking his head as he walks away.

It's a long and harsh letter he'll need to write, but now Terrence regrets the confrontation - in part due to the explaining he'll have to Elbio, Gregorian and Varus, but mostly because of the consequences this may have for Zolomon.

Either way, he still writes the document out as honestly as he can. 

***

OOC: Zolomon had to go and gave me permission to knock the character out in my last pose

Pvt. Dom,
Pvt. Donica,
and Sgt. Terrence

'Log Day 20-whatever [the correct number is placed underneath], it's been more than a week in this... [the following phrase is inked out with the word 'unpleasant place' beneath] Sgt. Z and the CO have been at it again, and I cannot claim to enjoy being here. It's not like I can whack the sergeant on the head and order him to stop. Note: I will have to compile an official citation whatever over the behavior, the clark can sort it out. Anyway, Pvt. Konner managed to break his ankle when he fell through part of the dock ruins so that is our first causality this trip! Poor lad was just carrying the water buckets and running from Pvt. Dom who I don't believe was actually doing anything but looking scary, but I digress. As for the inventory, our supplies are holding though we had too much salt - an extra bag or so which I had sent back to the mountain with the injured private. All things considered things are running smoothly despite the aggressive way Sgt. Z has acted towards the locals (and vice versa). I hope a confrontation will not happen, and Brocktree knows I've tried everything to prevent it, but it's somewhat out of my paws.
Today we we began work clearing the south side of the harbor, with...'

Terrence sits writing on a barrel while hares are using a makeshift crane made of wood beams and rope to pull up what appears to be a mast from the shore beneath them.

Dominik had spent the time there at the docks doing his best to be as helpful as possible. As a matter of fact, their current activities seemed to please the large hare quite a bit, for it was an opportunity for him to get in some time doing what he'd spent so much time doing in his homeland before leaving to journey to the mountain... namely, carpentry and building things. It was a nice feeling to be able to actually construct things instead of destroying them, and Dom had gone about his work with a certain importance that he hadn't really felt too often before. Helping the group of hares to pull up the mast, Dom eventually manages to extricate himself from said group once the task is finished, and he makes his way over towards where Terrence is seated on the barrel. The massive buck eyes him for a moment, ears twitching as his arms fold across his broad chest. His head gives a little tilt, a twinkle in his eye as a smirk crosses his muzzle. His fur is matted down with perspiration, and from the looks of him he'd been hard at work for awhile, his clothing all dirty and torn in places. "Hmm. Must be careful, vouln't vant you to get cramp in paw from too much writing," he replies, dryly.

"Ha!" Terrence sets the quill aside, being careful not to stain the page with ink. "I daresay you're about a week late with that advice, Dom." He stands, watching the hares work for a bit. There's some trouble the knots tied around the mast that had come undone they were scrambling to get it fixed. "So... How's you're work going?"

Donica makes her way over towards the other hares, as she does so she is putting some bandages back in a pouch she has, beside her a rat who has a bandaged paw, "Ummm thanks" The hare maid nods and smiles, the rat just nods and walks off else where.

Dominik's chuckle rumbles in his chest as he regards Terrence with what seems to be amusement. At the question, he lifts a paw and rubs at an ear. "Is going vell, for most part. Am surprised at amount of hares who seem like zey haff never seen planks of wood and tools before in their lives, but is okay. Dom knows enough to correct and show correct vay to do things," he nods. "Is happy no vun has nailed footpaw to dock, yet. Am waiting for this." He smirks, before he lifts his eyes to regard Donica. "She has come in handy though for smaller bumps and bruises." The large hare's attention shifts towards the scrambling going on over at the worksite, and he sighs. "Be vun moment, must fix." He trots away and over towards the problem area.

"Alright then -" Terrence eyes dart to the rat as they and the healer approach. "Don't be to hard on them Dom!" He calls after the big hare, "Most of them neveh have seen a plank of wood before used beyond furniture- Sala's all rock stone!" Gaze still following the vermin, he sergeant dips his head in greeting to Donica. He relaxes when the rat's out of sight. "Afternoon, medic. Who was you'h friend there?"

Donica gives a salute, "Can't say friend, but they had a hurt paw so offered ta fix it, rather have beasts here see we are helpful than see us as...well suppose annoying, some vermin here leave us alone or watch us, thar is a stoat though..."

Dominik makes his way towards where the knots were coming untied, and the large hare calmly manages to re-secure the problem areas, making sure that things were secured adequately enough, before he heads back over towards Donica and Terrence. He sighs, giving a shake of his head. "If vant things done right, must do by self..." he replies with a smirk. "Am surprised whole thing didn't topple over." The buck had largely avoided any contact with the denizens of the town when possible, figuring he likely wouldn't be approached due to his size and usual demeanor...and so no issues had arisen from that aspect of things.

Sitting back down on the barrel the sergeant lets himself laugh aloud. "Well, alight then! I can't argue with that, Doncia. Bettah than getting..." He waves a paw, searching for the right word, "..Upset with us, eh?" Terrence had paid only half-attention to what was going on with the mast and knots, and was certainly glad whatever the problem was had been sorted out. "Well I'm glad nothing tipped ovah, though it wouldn't exactly be unexpected."

Donica frowns "Rather not deal with any major injuries, been lucky so far"

Dominik finds another barrel to seat himself upon nearby, the large buck taking a brief respite from his work...though his eyes remain on the crew not too far away from where they currently are. "Aye. But is vhy Dom is here, to make sure this does not happen." He chuckles. "Is good crew, though. Most vil vurk, vithout lots of chatter. Figure the less chatter, the faster vurk gets done. Vant to finish, and return home as soon as possible..." he nods.

"I certainly hope there'll be no more injuries." Terrence lets himself slump back to leans against the small wall, pinching the bridge of his snout. "I'd rathah not deal with the things that cause majah injuries, though I'm rathah afraid we're already down that path." He lets the words hang in the air a moment, his implication dark, though soon relents and smiles. "Of course they're a good crew, Dom! Trained them all myself fo'h seasons at this point - thei'h no mountain recruits now, that's fo'h certain."

Donica frowns "Are ya..worried sur? I know Sergeant Zolomon has been rather...well" She isn't sure, best not say something displeasing. "Protective..." Yeah thats good, "and Ensign Elbio has kept rather busy making sure things do well, he is...well somewhere. "

Dominik gives Terrence a nod, the large buck reaching out to give him a pat on the shoulder with a hefty paw. "Is impressive." He sighs, before he slips off the barrel and stretches for a moment. "Hmm. Must return to vurk, cannot spend time chit-chatting, is too much to do." He gives the two a smile, before he turns to head back towards the docks. "If need anything, vil know vere to find." He then makes his way back to what he'd been doing previously.

Terrence nods, looking back at the crew working. "Thanks, Dom. And I think we'll be alright here fo'h now." As the arctic hare leaves the sergeant's expression becomes a bit more thoughtful, as if he'd debating something in his head. "I can't quite say who I mean by that, Donica, but the CO - Elbio - is doing the best he can methinks. I just hope certain comrades don't let themselves lose control o'h it could be disastrous with the locals, and with that we will need you'h skills if it comes to that."

Donica nods, "So far no vermin issues, major ones anyways."

"Which is very good, in my books." Terrence replies with a wry grin. "But there's a few creatures othah than hares I'm worried about here. The Patrol -and more explicitly me - have had poo'h luck in Halyard the past seasons, and the inhabitants don't much care fo'h us as I'm sure you've noticed. O'h at least half the beast living here don't, the othah half seems perfectly welcoming. Ah well."

Donica nods "A couple ferrets wantedto help, a weasel ealier shoved another private,  the private is ok. I dont think anything will happen,  hopefully won't.  I think someond would likely put an arrow in them or so he said. "

"If that someone is who I believe they are," Terrence seems rather serious now, "I might just break his bow if he tries it. As fo'h the private - glad they're okay, though that reminds me I need to have the guard 'round here tightened." The sergeant rubs his chin once again thinking, "Probably bad form to let the civilians just wondeh into ou'h work anyway considering how breakable and dangerous this all is."

Donica says, "Well...hopefully rebuilding the dock wont take long and there is those squirrels and others helping, from that one ship."

With a slight nod Terrence agrees. "Of course! The soonah we're done here the bettah, and frankly I've tried my best to stay out of the way of those those woodland beasts and they've done the same fo'h us, so I have no complaints there." His paw brushes the small book he'd been writing the daily log into. "I'll probably have to add a bit more this though before we're back home."

Donica nods "Well I will let ya get back to that sur" She heads off after a salute.

Terrence gives a half-hearted salute in return, his mind already complying what he needs to write down.
And so he continues putting quill and ink to paper.

'A mast had been moved after some work with the help of Pvt. Dom, and the work in the south side of the harbor is nearly finished. Medic Donica helped a local rat with an injured paw which hopefully will help the Patrol's perception here, as well as...'

This log is from the 5th of December last year a bit before the storm hit - I never got around to downloading it from the Radio before it went down, so here it is now.
Sorry for the delay

Pvt. Dom,
Sgt. Felicity,
Cpt. Gregorian,
and Sgt. Terrence,
all hares + spoofs

While the last pair of hares had been cycled through near dawn to keep watch, Terrence had requested to replace one of them, for the time being. His intentions, for the most part, was to keep and eye on the weather and daylight without having to go out in the cold until needed - he hoped the day would allow for more patrols to go out. Another, small part of him was in the sentry room because it wished to escape the hullabaloo of the mountain, though he'd never admit that to anyone. So he sits silently on a stool and looks out through the narrow window.

Felicity opens the door, then pauses when she sees Terrence in here.  "Oh...'llo."  The Healer who's been assigned to her is right behind her, as usual.  "Gettin' tired o' not bein' 'elpful, y'know?"  The Runner walks over to the window, pulling her shawl closer around her shoulders.  "Tryna find somethin' t'do tha' won't get th' 'Ead 'Ealah mad at me, wot."

Gregorian has been working through a pile of reports all day. He swears they multiply every time he spends time working in the forge. He's not even looking where he's going as he flicks through a few pages on his way to the sentry room, muttering quietly to himself until he pauses in the doorway "This report, there was a...er" he'd finally looked up and didn't find the hares he was expecting to find. Greg frowns. A quick glance around confirms he hadn't wandered in to the wrong room. He rifles through his papers again until he finally comes across a guard schedule and he stares at it. He'd read the right names and it took him a moment to figure out the problem "...This is for tomorrow evening. Hrm. Carry on" he turns to leave again but pauses, giving Felicity a squinted look "Wot are yah doin' here?"

Dominik seems to be out on the beach, in view of those in the sentry room more than likely, as he is attempting to herd the few remaining leverets that he'd taken outside for a bit of leisure time on the beach. Most had made it back inside, but as usual there are those last couple who seem to be stubborn and refusing to return inside. Dom doesn't seem to be losing his patience, however, as he trots around the beach, trailing after the wandering leverets. Just as he gets one closer to the entrance, another one wanders off and he has to go after them. This goes on for awhile, the large hare practically running in circles as he attempts to retrieve everyone. "Beach day is done," his voice is heard, booming. "Must go back inside -now-. No go inside, no dessert for after dinnertimes!"

Terrence had nearly drifted off by the time the other sergeant enters, having been lulled by the distant waves. He startles when he hears Dom though - sitting straight upright - and notices Felicity. With a brief look of confusion morphing into an even briefer flash of worry, he finally relaxes when it's clear there's no bad news to be shared - and that outside Dom is dealing with leverates. "Of course, Felicity." He's a bit more formal as there is an unnamed private in the room (who was standing to attention in the corner). "Though frankly aftah being in here for more than an hou'h one remembahs how dull it... well..." Trailing off when Greg enters, he stands and salutes. "Captain, sah!" There's more confusion on his face as to why the blacksmith came down here, but regardless of reasons he's no unwelcome - even if the sentry room is starting to feel cramped.

Unfortunately, Julia has a cold and so didn't get to go on the beach adventure with everyone.  Bummer.  Felicity smiles as she sees the big hare herding the children.  The Healer stays outside the door, saluting to Greg when he shows up.  The Runner looks at the Smith.  "I'm sick o' bein' stuck not doin' anythin', but the 'Ead 'Ealah won't let me return t'even basic duties.  So I'm tryin' t'find someplace where I c'n be 'elpful.  At ease, soldiah, an' return t'y'duties," she says to the other sentry.

Gregorian appeared confused and distracted in general himself but then his mind sometimes gets lost in the paperwork and he'd been looking for someone else only to discover they wouldn't be on sentry duty until the following day. The salutes snap him out of it a bit and he quickly returns one "Right, yes, at ease" he quickly says before there's a sympathetic nod to Felicity "Hm. Well we've all been there" or at least he has. He nods to the healer "I can see it's all approved" or he assumes so given the healer's there "So, yes, carry on" his ears twitch to the sound of the children coming back and he peeks out the window. Grace is somewhere in the mix, without Julia to fight with she might even not be causing trouble.

Dominik finally manages to get all the leverets back inside the entrance to the mountain, and their care is taken up by another one of the hares as the large buck leans there against the rock, visibly exhausted but with a grin upon his muzzle. Grace seems to be one of the last ones lingering there before the others are shepherded away, and the buck lifts a paw and gestures that it's perfectly fine that she remains there. All the others head back inside. "So, leetle Grace. Did you enjoy the beach today?" He crouches down to be more at her level.

The private nods, and sits back down - but not before Terrence waves them over to take over keeping watch. Relatively free now, the sergeant for his part is no really a part of the conversation. The young leveret Earlbuck is trundling along at Dom's heels with a long piece of driftwood more than twice his height slung over his shoulder and runs smack into the arctic hare having not noticed Dom crouching down until it was too late. He falls on his rump and blinks, not quite upset but more than a little taken aback. "You nots 'posed's stop."

"If I might ask, Sah," Terrence gestures towards the papers in Greg's paws. "What brings you down here? Can't be fo'h just the view."

Felicity snorts.  "Good luck getting tha' stupid hoity-toity maniac t'let me go back t'm'duties.  Says I'm 'too unstable.'"  The Healer smiles and waves to the leverets as the toddle past.  The Runner looks back out at the beach, her face an inscrutable mask of many emotions.

Gregorian hesitates slightly at Terrence's question and he keeps his eyes out the window for a moment "It's nothin', really. There was just a delivery a couple of days ago and I couldn't find a list of wotevah had been delivered..." he lowers his voice to a mutter "I heard Grincol ovah in Halyard was supposed tah be bringin' some of his new ales down soon. If Colt gets word of it first they'll be gone before the week ends" it's purely personal business apparently. He clears his throat and tries to look professional. He nods to Felicity "Yah free of the dreaded infirmary room, it's a start. Give yahself a little time" Grace meanwhile was quite happy taking her time and skipping along behind the group "Yeah! I got a crab!" she proudly announces to Dom and shows off the tiny crab she's been carrying pinched between her fingers for a while now. It's still furiously trying to snap its claws at her but just can't quite reach.

Dominik feels that little bump from behind as Earlbuck thumps right into him, and the large hare peers back over his shoulder at him with an amused grin. "Is sorry, but vas stopping to talk to leetle Grace. Vas very important, you see." He sees the large piece of driftwood the young leveret is carrying, and he gives him a smile. "Wow, is beeg piece of wood from sea. Is going to make into veapon?" he asks him, before he turns back to Grace to see the little crab she managed to catch. "Oooo! Is biggest crab Dom has ever seen! Is fearsomes!" He laughs softly, especially as the poor little crab can't do much but flail its little claws and look miserable...hence the name 'crab'.

Terrence brow furrows slightly at name 'hoity-toity' not because he disapproves of the name but because he head healer is technically a superior officer and one of their orderlies is in the room. However, seeing as the healer escort shows no sign of outrage at Felicity's words he allows himself a chuckle. "Of course I can't say I've seen eithah Colt o'h Grincol once since I've been in this room, so I can't help you there. Also haven't seen any barrels get passed inside, officially o'h unofficially."

Earlbuck ignores Dom's sorry in favor of Grace's crab and he rushes forward to get a better look and completely unaware of how the long stick swings in the air. "Lemmie see!"

Gregorian hmms and frowns a little "Perhaps he'll be along next week. At least I might not have missed him" Grace giggles at Dom "Nah, he's really small like me but 'e's gonna get biggah!" She is more than happy to thrust the tiny angry crustacean in to Earlbuck's face when he wants to look so it snaps at his nose instead "I called him Cookie!" she proclaims happily.

Dominik watches in amusement as Grace holds the angry little crab right in Earlbuck's face. He is waiting for the inevitable wailing as the leveret's nose is lightly snapped with those tiny claws...

"Cooki-" Earlbuck is nearly finished saying the name when the little crab pinches his snout - he lets out a howl of pain and falls back, dropping the large stick to fall wherever as both paws grasp at his snout. "WHY'D'S COOKIE DO THAT?"

Terrence nods. "Well, hope it works out then. We are talking about that type of ale, right? If I see Colt with any barrels I'll let you know."

Felicity is jarred back into reality upon hearing the leveret crying.  She rushes into the hall, and she turns to her Healer escort.  The Healer shakes her head.  "Leverets.  Always gettin' int'trouble.  C'mon, I think Dom's go' it 'andled, but we should go send anothah 'Ealah down 'ere, just in case.  I don't have any supplies wi' me if 'is nose is a-bleedin'."  Felicity nods in agreement, and the 2 does head off to the Infirmary to send an equipped Healer down here to check on Earlbuck's nose.

Gregorian chuckles faintly "Ale worth watchin' out for" he says before the wail also makes him quickly head back to the hall. Frowning Grace very firmly scolds the crab by waggling her finger at it after Earlbuck is pinched "Bad Cookie!" Cookie shows no remorse. Grace is immediately distracted anyway by Greg suddenly appearing and grins again as she proudly shows him the crab too "Dad! Look! This is Cookie! Can yah build him a home?" Greg is taken by surprise "Err..." she named the thing, he can't really say no now.

Dominik also seemingly had the same problem of being unable to tell Grace no, and so he snrks a little and tries his best to hide his chuckle as the crab does indeed snap on Earlbuck's nose. He sighs, a little, shaking his head and giving Greg an amused look. "All leverets were good on beach, nothink really happened.  But am thinking leetle crab does not appear to be happy vith arrangements."

Terrence had also started for the door before realizing he's got at least two more hours on sentry duty. Besides, Greg and Felicity and hopefully Dom and handle whatever the commotion is. So the sergeant returns to his stool.

"MY SNOUT WAS PINCHES!" Earlbuck had followed Dom and stood looking indigently up at the tall hare. "THATS VERY MUCH SOMETHINGS!" The betrayal of Cookie will not be forgotten anytime soon. The leveret, his outburst done, goes to look for more symphony far from Grace's crab.

Never run towards the screaming Greg thinks. It always results in trouble "Alright..." he gestures after Earlbuck as he talks to Dom "Perhaps yah should herd the othah dibbuns, I've got Grace for now...and the little crab" so much for paperwork now he has to find out to keep a crab alive. He turns his daughter around to get her moving back upstairs "We'll see wot we can do but yah can't let go of him yet"

Blisa & Co, a cat + spoofs,
John, a squirrel,
Patch, a rat,
and Texo, a ferret.

Patch had been out for a short while, asking around Ferravale on where a cloaked beast ran off to, out the gate is all he got. He did search a little then made his way back to the tavern.

Though traveling by the trees over the snow was by far a faster method, John had been going slower than he liked. He'd returned to the clearing and searched the hut more thoroughly, finding the ration sack and tucking it into his belt. Perhaps beasts might recognize it. After that he'd kept an eye on the Gull, though he'd dare not enter - that place was crawling with all sorts of unsavory types who'd take none-to-kindly to a squirrel dropping in among them. So at least his path turned him towards Ferravale, a place John had done his best to avoid ever since a particular vermin had taken up residence and later died. The town, being mostly buried, seemed nearly deserted besides the sounds coming from the tavern, so John came there. Brushing snow off his shoulders and ears he makes his entrance as quietly as he can.

Patch is at the main bar area, getting some drinks made as he speaks with a stoat " I don't know Otis...didn't find much and in that snow Redwall is fairly far ta goto."

John takes in the tavern's common room, searching for ANYBEAST other than Patch willing to speak to him, though he does come over to the bar. "Ah'd like it if ye were tae fetch me any meade ye got, Ah would." With the words he places the coin required.

Patch nods and gets the meade and sits it before John before getting the coin. Not too many beasts are in the tavern right now.
No, there isn't many beasts around John realizes as he takes in the room, sipping the drink as he does so. Left with little choice he leans o the counter not facing the rat which in his mind might as well be in cahoots with the murderers and dibbun-nappers, considering Patch's history of being so helpful. "Ye haven' much luck seein' a cat 'round here, have ye? An' a donnae mean h'good chieftess, Ah don'."

With a slow nod, John finally turns to look the rat in the eye. "Tha'may be, tha'may be, bu' this one woulda been passin' through, she would - an' mayhaps with a partner o' sorts." There's a small smile that spreads over the squirrel's face which is anything but friendly, "Ye cannae get many visitors in here... wonderful tavern since th'snowfall, now can ye?"

Speaking of cats, who should come in but the Chieftain?  Blisa stalks across the tavern to the bar, Ferdinand the only bodyguard in her wake.  "I need tea.  Hot tea," the feline grumbles to the rat, huddled down in her sweater and cloak.  Her hat is pulled down over her brows, and her scarf is wrapped around her nose.  What little fur is showing is poofed up in an attempt to keep her warm.  She tucks her mittened paws in her armpits.  Ferdinand smiles at the rat.  "2 cupth of tea, pleathe."  Blisa glances at the squirrel.  "Hello, John.  What bring you out in this inhumane weather?"

Patch gets the tea first as you don't keep the chieftain waiting. He sits the 2 mugs of tea down. "Here.." He then turns to John "No female cats..no, was this male wildcat had a scar thats clearly sumthing he got recently, when asked bout it, he took off rather quicklike."

"Scar, ye say? Anything else ye remember from 'im?" John nods to Blisa, doing his best to greet her while preoccupied with the rat's words, "Dark tidings brin' me here, they d'. Ah'm lookin' for a cat an' another beast - who might b' another bloody cat - who took a wee dibbun from th'abbey an’ killed poor Xander." Letting out a sigh the squirrel shakes his head, "Th'wee ones father, actually." 

Blisa accepts her tea and sips it gratefully...until the squirrel says why he's here.  Tea goes spraying everywhere as she chokes.  Setting down her mug and regaining her breath, she slips her mittens off and goes to grab the front of his tunic in one fluid movement.  "WHAT DID YOU SAY?!"  Her nose is mere centimeters away from his.  "If you're lying to me, I swear..."  Ferdinand interrupts.  "Are you thure Xander hath been killed and Oz kidnapped?"

Patch gets himself an ale as he listens to John "Yeah scar...Claimed...who..died?" He was holding a mug, it dropped and broke onto the floor

While getting on in years, John is still a squirrel - and as quick as he can he swats away the paw (and presumably claws) reaching for him, and, if failing that grabs the cat's wrist with as  much force as he can until she lets go, his free paw drawing out his knife as there's not enough room for the sword. His face a snarl, John practically spits the next words. "An' why, pray tell, in hells gates would Ah lie? Yore th'vermin, an' Ah swear tae ye it were vermin tha' killed h'poor badger." He steps back away from the cat, lowering his knife yet still on edge and ready to bolt. "As sure as Ah'm speaking tae ye now, Ah am. Krisha had him buried some days ago."

Patch looks in a daze, he blinks when John looks to threaten Blisa "Ummm...good way ta..be snake food." He then looks at two stoats. "Orag...Otis..ye..in charge taven a bit..." Tears start to go down his face as he rushes to his office upstairs, a sob, and door slams shut.

Blisa bares her teeth in an equally vicious grimace.  "For the same reason woodlanders kill vermin for sport and vengeance even when they have done nothing wrong!  Woodlanders and vermin, we're all the same, with the same potential for evil."  The cat sits back on her stool.  "But you have never done that...forgive me."  She then starts digging in her messenger bag, cursing Xander's murderer with some very colourful oaths.  She pulls out her sketchbook and shows him the sketch she made of Zoltar.  "Is this who you're looking for?  He came into the tavern a few days ago, and made a very quick exit once I began asking about the injury on his face."  Ferdinand looks almost as shocked as Patch.

John puts the knife back in his belt, nodding at her apology. He stays standing, tense and ill-at-ease, however. "Ah donnae rightly know." He ignores for now anything that doesn't have to do with Zoltar. "Though he would match up with me suspicions. At th'place were Xander were killed Ah found a two pairs o' booted footprints, an' this sack here, Ah did." He takes the bag out and sets it on the counter. "It's o' the abbey, methinks, as th'cloth is near enough tae their habits. Th' only creature Ah can say with any certainty were at th'place is a healer cat, named Enys-somethin', Ah cannae rightly remember. Ah know she had a partner, an' tha' cat there might well be it."

Blisa shakes her head.  "This wildcat, who said his name is Mitch, is the only cat we've had for a while, other than myself, of course."  The Chieftain rubs her forehead, suddenly looking much older.  She curses again.  "Xander....he was a dear friend, as was old Zee.  And Oz was only just rescued from those accursed slavers..."  She gives the squirrel an inquisitive look.  "Is there anything Ferravale can do to aid you in trying to find Xander's killer?  If I could come with you, I would, but perhaps there is something else we can offer."

"Mitch, eh?" John laughs mirthlessly. "What an odd name..."  The squirrel returns to his mug and downs the contents, especially at the mention of Zee. Friend is not the word he'd use for that badger. "Ah need tae know which way Mitch wen', Ah d'. Xander were me friend as much as yores, an' th'sooner Ah find these cats th'sooner wee Oz'll b'back at th'abbey. Ye sure ye didnae see any other beast 'round Mitch, or know o'any beast who'd seen anything else?"

Blisa shakes her head.  "You could ask the guards.  This 'Mitch' said that he needed supplies, and that he had friends he was traveling with.  Said he had to get to somewhere by a certain date in order to get his gold.  But he didn't really give much helpful information."  Ferdinand sips his tea pensively.  "Once the wildcat wath in the woodth or down to the dirt road, the guardth wouldn't have been able to thee where he went.  He could have gone in any direction once there, possibly even having gone the wrong way at firtht to throw uth off."

John nods, again. "Bu' knowin' which bloody way he wen' would give me a good place tae start lookin' for his trail. Even withou' th'snow Ah know how tae track beasts, an' if he's dragging alon' a wee badger he cannae hide tha'. Ah need tae know where tae look first, though."

Blisa nods and stands.  Drinking the rest of her tea and closing her sketchbook, she bundles back up and heads to the door, stuffing her sketchbook back into her bag.  "Well, let's ask the guards now."  Ferdinand hurries after her, buttoning up his quilted jacket and tugging his hat back on.  "No time like the present!"  The Chieftain leads the way to the gate, not looking back, assuming the squirrel wants his information and so will follow.
"Indeed..." Having not stripped off his winter cloak or boots, John simply follows, picking his way cautiously through the snow.

Blisa leads the way up to the wall top, the guards coming to attention and saluting as she walks by.  More than a few of them show some signs of fear as she passes.  The Head Guard, Ann, is currently up here.  The rat is speaking with one of the lieutenants, getting a report on the activity of the day.  The both salute as the Chieftain stops by them.  "Good afternoon, Chief," Ann says.  "How can we help you?"  The cat tells them what they're needing to know about Zoltar.  The lieutenant bids them to wait a moment as he goes to get an off-duty guard.  Blisa sighs.  "I hope he's sober..."

John notes the fear and the tenseness he's had since the 'disagreement' in the tavern feels mildly justified. In response to Blisa's hope the squirrel merely grunts at first. "Lon' as they can speak Ah donnae care."

The lieutenant returns with a weasel in tow.  This off-duty guard is actually sober, and he looks nervous.  "Y'wanted me, Chief?"  Blisa explains what they're wanting to know about Zoltar.  The weasel nods.  "Aye, I saw 'im, I did.  'E was pushin' an' shovin' beasts outta 'is way as 'e ran out th'gates.  Now that's strange, says I, where's 'e runnin' off to, an' whot's scared 'im so?  So's I watched 'im, I did, an' saw 'im go that way."  He points in the direction the wildcat went.  The cat turns to the squirrel.  "Did you have any more questions for him?"

"Ah d'." The squirrel turns to the weasel. "Were there any other beast he had in tow? Did th'cat look like he had more than enough equipment for himself, did he?" John hold up the pack to illustrate. "Meanin' did he have extra packs or blankets or coats or such things? An' did ye see if he were armed or ready for a fight?"

The weasel snorts derisively.  "'Course 'e 'ad weapons.  Y'd 'ave t'be a fool or an Abbeybeast t'come inta Ferravale wi'out a weapon.  'E was definitely alone, though.  As for all tha' otha stoff...."  Here the weasel pauses, making sure he remembers correctly. "Nah, 'e wasn't ready t'go a'travelin', nought by a long shot, 'e wasn't."  Blisa breaks in here.  "He actually came into the tavern asking for supplies, and he left without accepting any of them.  He said he'd talk to his friends about whether they'd accept my offer of staying here.  They obviously haven't returned."

The squirrel's ears perk up at the news. "He wouldnae accept th'supplies?" John rubs his chin, thinking. "Well, hopefully that means he cannae have gotten far, an' his friends - who Ah think we can safely guess are th'healer cat an' Oz - must b' still somewhat nearby. It'd be th'three o'thems death if they tried settin' out in this weather. If he does return, Ah'd suggest arrestin' him, Ah do. Just in case."

Blisa cocks an eyebrow.  "He left in too much of a hurry after I asked about the wound on his face to worry about supplies."  The weasel looks between them, then adds, "Y'know, ours ain't th'only tavern in these here parts.  I would ask 'round th'Black Gull, I would.  May'ap they've seen 'im 'round there.  May'ap 'e even got supplies there."  The Chieftain scowls darkly.  "He has a valid point.  They tend to not ask as many questions at the Gull as we do here.  Although I must advise you to be very, very careful.  They don't take kindly to woodlanders over there."

"Ah bloody well know tha'." John chuckles, shaking his head. "Ah'd spent nearly a day already slinkin’ 'round there as Ah were none tae keen tae introduce meself tae tha'band o' pleasant fellows, Ah were. Though now Ah suppose Ah have little choice. Th' scar - d'ye have a drawing o' Mitch with it? An' can Ah take it if ye would b'so kind?"

Texo was on his way to the tavern when seeing the chieftain on the walls...well he was curious so wandered over " Ello.....all, a nice eve or maybe not?"

Blisa cocks an eyebrow.  "'Tis the picture I showed you in the tavern.  I already have some copies of it at my house.  Hold on a few minutes and I shall get you one."  She jogs off towards her home, the faithful Ferdinand keeping pace with her.  The lieutenant claps the weasel on the back.  "You did well.  Let us know if you remember anything else."  The weasel nods, salutes, then slinks off, back into the warm barracks.  Ann the rat Head Guard shakes her head.  "I wish these stupid murderers would just crawl off and die.  They're the reason the rest of us vermin have to be careful where we go."  She nods to Texo.  "There's another mudererin' vermin out on the loose.  He may have a young badger captive."  Always short and to the point, Ann is.

As the chieftess runs to fetch the drawing, the squirrels eyes are drawn to the newcomer. "It's damned cold taday, that's what it is." John rubs his paws together, speaking to Texo. "Ye notice anythin' strange abou' a cat callin' himself Mitch? Ah cannae yet say he's th'murderin' type though everythings pointin' that way, it is."

Texo says, "Never heard that name, sorry. Maybe he was passing through? Did...someone in Ferravale get killed?"

Blisa returns shortly and hands a copy of the drawing to the squirrel.  "You can keep it.  I can make more."  She nods to the Architect in greeting.  "No, Xander from Redwall was killed."  Ann shakes her head again.  "I need to get back to my rounds.  Good day, Chief."  The rat walks off, her tread silent, her tracks not as noticeable as those of other beasts.  The lieutenant salutes.  "Need anything more from us, Chief?"  "Not at the moment.  Thank you."  The guards turn back to their duties as the Chieftain goes to lead the squirrel and the Architect to the tavern, Ferdinand close in her wake.  She just assumes they'll follow her.

John takes the offered drawing, nodding slower at the cat's words as he takes in the details and commits them to memory. "Thank ye." The squirrel mutters as he begins to follow them back to the tavern. He's quiet as he studies the drawing.

Texo follows "Xander Winters?...He's dead?"He frowns " I knew his Uncle Zee Winters..he"s de one that helped me get a home here and job"

Blisa nods, sighing.  "Aye, Zee did, didn't he?  Another Winters, dead and gone.  More's the pity, too.  I liked Xander.  And his son is missing, as well, according to John here."  The cat leads them to the bar and orders more tea for herself and Ferdinand.  "I wish we could offer more help, John.  The Winters' clan has seen too much grief."

"Ye've done more than Ah could've hoped for, ye have." John says with a shrug. "Just keep an eye an' an ear out for any news o' this Mitch - an' wee Oz. Ah'll need tae keep searchin' in th'meantime." He's stayed in the tavern doorway, and now he turns to go. "Ah may b'back, Ah may no', Ah dunnae rightly know." The squirrel bows to the creatures inside the tavern. "Fare thee all well till then." And then he is gone.

Blisa waves to the squirrel, then digs paperwork out of her bag.  She'll spend the day in the tavern.  Just to make sure nobody gets in a fight.  This snow is making everyone edgy.  She makes a note to tell the guards to keep a close look out for Zoltar and Oz.  Just in case...

A General Guide Battalion Campaign Equipment for the enlisted hare of the Long Patrol
Note: Personal items are allowed but never at the expense of required equipment

I.
Basic Equipment
All enlisted hares in addition to their uniforms are expected to carry the following:

1.
Every enlisted hare, meaning private, lance-corporal, corporal, sergeant, colour sergeant, and master sergeant, is expected to carry with them a spear, dagger, and sling in addition to any personal weapons.

2.
Every enlisted hare, meaning private, lance-corporal, corporal, sergeant, colour sergeant, and master sergeant, is expected to carry with them in addition to their uniform and weapons a pack which is water resistant upon their back to carry rations for up to three days, personal mess kit (REQUIRED at least a spoon, knife, and either a bowl or cup), personal sewing kit (REQUIRED at least one needle, spindle of thread, and piece of cloth), personal weapon-care kit (REQUIRED at least one whetstone, one rag, and one bottle of oil), spare clothing (REQUIRED at least an extra shirt, pair of shoes, pair of socks, and pair of trousers), personal hygiene kit (REQUIRED soap, rag, and comb, in addition to any other items a hare might need), first aid kit (REQUIRED bandages, medical needle, and thread), and ground cot and blanket which will be held by straps on top of the pack.

3.
Every enlisted hare, meaning private, lance-corporal, corporal, sergeant, colour sergeant, and master sergeant, is expected to carry with them in addition to their weapons and pack a half-tent and cloak either rolled up together or separately and slung over one shoulder en bandolier crossing over the chest to the opposite hip, hanging loosely.

4.
Every enlisted hare, meaning private, lance-corporal, corporal, sergeant, colour sergeant, and master sergeant, is expected to carry in addition to their weapons, pack, half-tent, and cloak a canteen for water and small belt pouch for stones and any extra items such as a flint and steel.

5.
All enlisted hares are expected to carry a bundle of wood for fires* (*when not in an area that fire wood is readily available).

II.
Specialized equipment
In addition to the general equipment listed above, certain roles in the battalion are required to oversee more items.

1.
Battalion cooks and their assistants are expected to oversee in addition to the standard equipment at least one cart which will carry any cooking equipment the battalion requires (pots, pans, etc) in addition to the primary food supplies of the battalion as well as a large tent pavilion for the mess an kitchen area. As many extra pots, pans, cutlery, and, of course, food as can be fit will be carried in the cart.

2.
Battalion blacksmiths and their assistants are expected to oversee in addition to the standard equipment at least one cart which will carry any black-smithing equipment the battalion requires (honing steels, sharpening stones, whetstones, hammers, tongs, small anvil, etc) as well as a pavilion to shelter he smithing area. As many extra weapons and equipment for the battalion (spears, knifes, daggers, swords, slings, arrows, bows, armour, etc) as can be fit will be carried in the cart.

3.
Battalion quartermaster, ensigns, and any colour sergeants are expected to oversee in addition to the standard equipment at least one cart which will carry any item which the battalion might need replaced (tents, half-tents, uniforms, clothing, boots, sewing kits, mess kits, weapon kits, ground cots, blankets, great coats, etc) as well as individual officer tents and the command tent. In addition, any equipment which Commissioned Officers do not wish to carry themselves can be placed into the cart, in order of highest rank to lowest rank (beginning with the Colonel, then the Major, then Captains, then Lieutenants, then Sub-Lieutenants, then Ensigns), as long as space permits.

III.
Definition of Terms

Battalion: The basic unit of the Long Patrol, command by either a colonel or major, and is divided into a number of companies (each commanded by a captain). It is the smallest unit of the Long Patrol capable of prolonged independent action and contains within it everything needed to fight a battle or march on campaign. Each battalion has in addition to officers and enlisted hares an attached group of cooks, blacksmiths, clarks, and healers who are generally non-combatants and allow retired hares a place in active service still.

Campaign: A military operation; here used to differentiate any time the Long Patrol is in the field and on duty and not garrisoned in the mountain, usually for the purpose of warfare and travel.

Half-Tent: A tent half made to be paired with another half tent via hooks and buttons on one end; this allows hares who are separated from their unit to have shelter even when alone.

OOC:
I wrote this up as an IC document that all hares in the LP should read and be aware of instead of just doing it OOC'ly.