A Weasel's Tale

Angus, Stubb, Hactor

Location: Ruingate: The Skull and Candle

Another chilly night in Ruingate has instigated a drinking binge, it would seem, as Angus is sloppily situated in a corner of the tavern. There is an arrangement of empty mugs in front of him, some toppled over and others still sticky with the remnants of brew.

Stubb seems, for the moment, to have extricated himself from his warlord chaperone's company; he enters the smokey interior of the tavern alone. Sniffing away the cold, he cuts easily and swiftly across the room to where Angus has draped himself with saurian insouciance. "Oy, Angus. You take care a tha' mousey?"

With a slow turn of his skull, Angus squints, trying to unite double-Stubbs into one cohesive image. ".. erg. Aye--she weren't much trouble," he mumbles. "Mostly went quiet-like." The dragon rocks forward, clasping his hands on his thighs to support his weight. His head hangs heavily, as he continues: ".. Anything developin'? Y'know .. news 'r somethin'?"

Stubb's head flicks to the door, then he smiles and slips onto a bench seat across the table from the dragon. "Ay. News, indeed. We found a compar'ment, tha foxlord an me. Neaf tha kitchen, back a' the ol' pri'ry."

Hactor entered emedietly after Stubb, his hood up and head low. He didn't make eyecontact with any othr beast as he sat across from the pair. He replied hearing Stubb's words, "Aye. Very interesting, though to small for any of us to fit in."

Angus swings his head up, quirking a glance at Stubb. "'Partment?" he questions, then grunts, ".. An' what's innit? Old grains 'r .. dung? Y'got a reason t'find it t'be special?" The lizard quiets as the hooded figure speaks, turning to size it up.

In the pause that ensues, Stubb presses the tip of a claw to his lips, then leans into the center of the table. After another beat, he takes a small, green leaf from his pocket and sets it atop his grayish tongue and begins to ruminate. "Well," he says, with lips moistened by greenish saliva. "Oi s' pose oi have." He looks between Angus and Hactor.

Hactor quirks an eyebrow from underneath the hood. He replies in a silent voice, "Well considering we seem to be in this together, why not elaborate oh Crafty One." The sarcasm was blatantly obvious in the old foxes voice. Quite frankly Hactor was confused...He /hated/ being confused.

".. Wha'? Have what?" The scaly titan is clearly sloshed, struggling to follow the conversation, in spite of an ever-tilting room. Craning in toward the weasel, Angus angles his head--perhaps so Stubb might whisper some secret. "Aye, ole' pally--what's th'tale?" His brows knit with mild agony; "And *what* are y'chewin' on, mate? Smells like .. Pfft." He cringes.

Stubb's smile is impishly vulpine. "Dis?" He extends his tongue, scaly with masticated bits of the late leaf. "Oi picked it up when was in Ferravale." He continues chewing. "'S a bi' of a long 'un, dis tale. Moigh' wan' a bit a refreshment, first, ma'e." He elbows Hactor with surprising playfulness; perhaps he thinks the fox has lost his bite? "You look loike you've 'ad your fill," Stubb says, regarding the landscape of Angus' discarded glasses.

Hactor growls deeply, "Watch yourself weasel. For I shall be watching you!" He then stood and went to order a drink, leaving Stubb to meditate on his words. Hactor was not happy. Not happy at all. Stubb was up to something. Exactley what Hactor didn't know, but he figured he might as well have refreshment if he was going to listen.

Angus manages a half-charming grin. A sinewy arm encircles the glass soldiers, ushering them closer to his torso. Once the mugs, upright or not, are within proper proximity, the dragon lowers his cheek to them; a suitable perch for a drunken head. "Nah--s'jus' t'whet the gullet, mate. Prime it fer the night ahead." He shifts, causing his pillow to clink about, as he casts an awkward glance to Hactor. "So .. Storytime, mate?"

Stubb crosses his arms on the table and tracks Hactor's progress toward the bar. "Ay. Storytoime."

Hactor returns with a pint of ale, and after sipping at it waves his hand at Stubb to procede.

Angus flickers his tongue as the tod rejoins them. "Howdy," he grunts, showing his teeth, but more or less amicably. "Always a pleasure, m'Lord."

"If oi 'aven' spoke much abou' me past, i's because oi prefer to live moi loife as i' comes to me. No need fo' dwellin'." Stubb looks down at the table. "But oi were a sailor no' so long ago. No' long before oi met tha two a you, in fac'."

Angus is all ready riveted. His dark eyes are wide, and he moves his head in understanding nods at relevant intervals. "Sailor, right," he echoes, holding up a hooked claw in the ancient, international symbol for pirate.

Hactor raised his eyebrows. He didn't say anything, but he thought on the irony. He himself had led a life at sea. When he was a teenager, he had been made a slave aboard a slaving ship. The memory put a bad tase into his mouth, and he quelled it with a swig of ale.

"We was headin' back to port after being a' sea for free monfs. Noigh' was falling, and the sea was get'in' a temper." The bench seat creaks beneath the weasel as he shifts. "Den we saw i'. Comin over tha crest of a wave. Anuvver ship. First one we seen in weeks." He shivers.

Angus shifts when Stubb does, as if it was some subconscious cue. "For serious, mate? Yew were a bone fide weasel of th' sea? Didja' maraud or .. jus' float about 'n wait fer ships t'drift yer way?" His tongue flutters again, and picks up a glorious scent. One of his mugs contains a forgotten swig or two of ale--hallelujah! The thing is snatched and downed without hesitation. ".. And?"

Hactor gives Angus a glance of distaste before putting his attention back on Stubb. He asked in a hushed tone, "This ship...what did it look like?"

Stubb frowns. "That's tha fing, ma'e. Weren' loike any ship oi ever saw. Moigh' a been a cargo ship. But not large. An i' had free sails an' a friendly flag..."

Angus lifts a brow. "So what happened, mate?" He is leaning inward again, anxious. ".. whassit gotta do wi' the trap door?" An eye rolls to the cloaked fox, then to its drink. "Y'gonna finish that, pally?" the lizard inquires. "I'll take care of it, iffn' it's too much fer his lordness t'handle."

"We troied to hail 'em wif all we had. No response. Dere were loigh's in tha por'holes, bu' no' a soul on board." Stubb shakes his head, still trying to make sense of the memory. "It were loike the crew 'd vanished." He raises his paw, fingertips touching like the petals of a flower, then flips them open. "Poof."

Hactor's good eye swivles in Angus' derection and the tod says, "Keep quite and let Stubb speak!" He then looks back to Stubb, and nodds. But he also slightly slid his ale torwards Angus. Anything to keep the lizard from droning for drink.

Angus swivels his head from side to side, wobbling, befuddled by the strange tale. ".. jus' like that?" he questions nonchalantly. Two fingers are walking the tabletop, closing in on Hactor's ale. When they arrive at its base, the hand swoops around the mug, reigning it in with like the rest of his glassy cache.

Stubb's paw lingers in the air, thus unfolded, for a few moments. "Well, dragon, oi don' know. I' was that way when we came on i'. We boarded. In spoite a tha weatha, we couldn' let a ship loike tha' go ta waste, eh? An' dere weren' a single beast on board. Damndest fing."

Hactor was very intriueged now himself. He leaned forward listening carefully. "Just one," he echoed. "Who?"

Angus runs a finger over the rim of his commandeered drink. "Ghastly business, mate .. ghost ships an th' like. Weren't ye' scared of curses 'n such?"

Stubb blinks at the fox. "Nobeast was on tha ship. An' scared? We moight a been, if it'd look anyfing loike tha ships we all heard abou' as toikes. Dis vessel was tha foinest I ever seen, though. Can' say oi know as 'oo cudda buil' it."

"So wha' happened to it?" Angus chimes, then lifts his mug for a slurp. "Where's it now?"

Hactor went silent, thinking on the matter. He decides to just listen for now...

Stubb toys with the lip of one of Angus' used glasses. "Still at sea, far as oi know. Troi as we moigh', dere weren' no budgin' the ol' gi'l from 'er course. Loike tha ship 'ad a will a her own..."

"You say it was a merchant ship?" said Hactor. He drummbed his fingers on the table before continuing, "From what derection did you say she was traveling from?"

Angus is pleasantly warmed by drink and good company. He takes this opportunity to peel away some of his winter layers, starting with the various blobs of cloth that wrap his head. "Oi, mate--an' .. again .. whaddas' all this gotta do wi' th'secret door? Ghost ships r'good fer campfires 'n all, but I don't see how it helps us."

"Can' say where she was travelin'. Moigh' 'ave been from Halyard. Dat's where we was 'eaded, an' dis ship--ghost ship, if you loike--it was tackin' west boi norfwest." The weasel smiles at Angus. "Oi'm gettin' to it."

Angus chews on his lip, whilst unraveling a scarf. "All right, all right, mate--apologies." He is pooling the garments on the tabletop.

Hactor stroked his beard and muttered something, looking at the ground. However he quickly looked back at the two and beckons Stubb continue.

"Tha ship was beau'iful," Stubb says, his eyes pooling with memory. "Shoiny floors, polished walls. Loike she'd never touched tha sea. But i' go' stranga. Tha loigh's we saw weren' lamps, but enormous foirefloies, large as oi am, in cages." The weasel shivers again. "An' tha rooms were filled wif... Wif tha strangest contraptions..."

Angus flashes roguish grin. "And y'sure yew weren't jus' chewin' on a few too many of those leafeys, pally?" He clicks his teeth, eyes rolled back in his head, as fingers pantomime wiggling hallucinations.

Angus says, "Y'know--c'mon. Overgrown fireflies 'n contraptions? Of what sort?"

That's what Hactor wanted to know. The fireflies were interesting, but at the mention of contraption the foxes ear twiched. He still said nothing, absorbing all this information.

Stubb clears his throat. "Fink oi need a drink moise'f. Wai' here an we'll continue in a momen'." He stands up, bones complaining in a chorus of pops and creaks, then strides over to the bar.

Angus watches the weasel rise, drumming his claws against the tabletop. "Fireflies," he snickers, and nudges an elbow at Hactor.

Hactor glares needles at the lizard. And if he had two arms he would have crossed them. But he decided to swallow his irittation. This story disturbed him, for reasons he did nto know.

Slopnose walks into the large common guestroom.

Slopnose walks in from the main tavern.

Angus is, as we last left our heroes, situated at a table. His lizard head is cocked, all ears on Stubb's ghastly tale.

Stubb returns to his seat with a frothy mug of the murky ale. "Now den..."

Angus eyes Stubb's mug. His gaze then travels to the range of empties on the table, tinged with a bit of sadness. "Yes," he declares, as he idly roots through his pocket for some sort of currency.

Hactor waites patiently and ligts his pipe. He put the match between his teeth,and with a turn of his head against the bowl made it come to life. Afyer a few pipes he sayes, "Yes er...fireflies."

Stubb savors a long drag from his drink, then wipes a forearm across his mouth to brush away the residue. "Can' remember most a dem contraptions. But dere one fing what caugh' moi fancy." He focuses on some object an impossible distance away, raising his paws to shape this object in the space before him. "Oi can' descroibe i' wew..." He sighs loudly and gives it up as futile. "For wha'ever reason, oi fewt oi had to take da fing back wif us."

Angus taps a claw against an empty glass, contemplating this alleged contraption. "So didja'?" he pipes. A distorted image of the weasel reflects in the glass, so the lizard fails to look up as he speaks. "Out with it, mate--yer drivin

Angus says, "' me mad with suspense."

"Aye," piped in Hactor, "Did you?" This contraption greatly interested him. Evenmore so the possible function..Explosions came to mind.

Stubb's eyebrow twitches slightly at the fox's unwonted curiosity, but he airs no comment about it. "Aye," he nods, smiling. "Whoile the uvvers were loo'in', pickin' fings off walls an tha loike... Oi packed it up, dis contraption, an hauled i' off, wifou' our captain no'icin'."

"S'simply scandalous," Angus insists with lop-sided grin. He pokes at the warped reflection, chastising it for its sneakery. ".. and what'd ye' do with it, mate? Kept it inna' hidey hole all these seasons?"

Hactor raised his eyebrows, but still remained silent. The only indicator of his growing excitement was the ever growing cloud of smoke, he was puffing fromhis pipe.

Stubb drinks again and purses his lips in an expression of aloof concern. "No... When we got ta shore... Oi wound up in a bar. Met a lovely jil. Fur as foine as..." He clears his throat. "Anyway, oi showed i' to 'er, tha devoice. Her uncle had made i', turns out, bu'... Well, dis is anuvver long story," he says apologetically.

Angus is still poking at the glass, but it would seem he got a bit aggressive with it. The thing finally tumbles to its side, rolls and clanks unceremoniously against its mates. ".. Wh-whoa .. wait wait, mate--th'jill's uncle? Are ye' sure ye' ain't just yankin' this whole wretched narrative outta yer rear? Fetchin' far, Cap'n. I mean .. c'mon. *You* met a jill .. and she didn' run screamin' first chance she got?" He shoots Stubb an impish glance.

Hactor chuckled a bit, but then gave Stubb a shrewed look saying, "Well I don't think we'll be going anywhere tonight. And I like a good story before bead." He waved his paw at Stubb and continued, "Go on." He looked closley at the weasel, as if trying to read his thoughts.

"Oi mee' plen'ny a jills, ma'e," Stubb says with a defensive snort. "When oi wan' 'oo. An dis jill, she were real hoigh class. Fancy earrin's an all. Very pre'ty. Her uncle, he'd been a inven'or, working dere roigh' outsoide Halyard in a li'tle hut. Made all manner of fings, most of em strange, some of em powerful."

Angus echoes, "Strange 'n powerful, aye--" and he shifts uncomfortably in his seat. It is hard to properly situate a giant lizard tail, even in a mostly empty tavern. He picks up where he left off; "Jus' like these tasty brews." The dragon uprights various toppled glasses on the table, and begins to arrange them in a precarious pyramid.

Hactor watches Angus with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. Nut he was also thinking deeply on this inventor, and his machines. He looked back to Stubb, as if to say 'and?'

"When dis uncle doied, tha jill's father dismantled most a the uncle's old junk. He fough' it were evil or somefin'." The weasel props his head on his paws. "Said dey had powers. Tha jill wouldn' tell me what dose powers were. Oi troied ta foind ou'... Anyfing 'e couldn' dismantle, her old man put aboard a ship an sent it out ta sea."

Angus frowns softly. "Sounds like a waste t'me," he grunts, continuing to organize objects on the table.

Hactor lickes his lips a little impatiently and sayes, "Yes but what has this to do with.." He stoped himself, and not wanting to irritate Stubb continues, "I meen to say what happened next?"

"Hones'ly, oi forgo' abou' the ole junk for a whoile. Me an tha jill," Stubb says, with a glare at Angus, "we go' ta be close. Delilah an me. Very close." He grins stupidly. "I' were her who mentioned tha trinket. Dat devoice oi found. It had been taken apart, along wif tha rest a tha stuff on dat ship. She said, what oi found were just a piece..."

Angus rolls his dark eyes at the besotted weasel, and stacks another glass. "Sounds like ye' found a piece all right, mate." With another unsavory grin, the lizard lowers himself a bit, as if to avoid a potential projectile.

Hactor narrows his ey and sayes to Angus, "Stop egging him on and let him explain what this has to do with that artifact." He lookes at Stubb and sayes in a puff of smoke, "Am I right in assuming that that's whats in the hole? Another peice ta this contraption?"

Angus narrows his eyes at Hactor. "Egg?" he croaks gruffly, and his mouth twists into a tight frown. The lizard goes silent after this.

"Dat's what oi'm hopin. Deloilah's father were... scared of tha power in tha contraptions, specially moine. So he had tha pieces scattered, as if... Well." Stubb shrugs. "Oi don' know. Bu... Deloilah... She made me promise..."

Hactor nervously glancess at Angus and mutters, "Jus an expression. Na need to get worked up." He then looks back to Stubb saying, "So your trying to find tha peices to this contraption? How facinating." He then puffed on his pipe a few times before adding, "I'm nearly resolved to spend my days helping you, than trying to become a king again..Nearly."

"Weasel .. mate, c'mon, Stubb. Getton' with it! Ye'r tellin' this like a badgermum, waitin' fer the younguns t'drift off--we, on the other claw, ain' got all night. Well, mebbe we *did*--but th' sun's almost up! What's wi' the promises 'n dames 'n ghost ships? What's all this gotta' do wi' some dumb trap door in some crumby nowherestown." The lizard's mood has shifted for the worse. Angus folds his arms over his chest and kicks back, knocking a calloused foot against the tabletop. It's a miracle that the tower of mugs manages to not topple.

Stubb sighs, and the tips of his ears grow crimson. "Nuffin'. Nuffin'. Jes' forge' it. Oi'm tuckin' in." He starts to rise. "We've go' ta keep an oiye on tha' li'tle mouse. We'll need 'er help."

Hactor glowers at the lizard, and then at Stubb. He snorts and replies, "Very well but.." He continue pointing a bony finger to Stubb, "We will have words later you and I Stubb. About certain matters past and present." He rose extinguishing his pipe into one of the empty glasses. He turnes to angus and sayes, "And as for you. Sober up and be patient. i'm sure Stubb will reveal all...In due time." He flashed Stubb a warrying glance.

Angus feels a pang of remorse as Stubb announces his resignation for the evening, but he does not speak. The lizard, instead, is staring into space--brooding about one thing or another.