Darklett Odyssey - For How Big the World Is, It Sure Is Small

Uncharted territory. This is completely uncharted territory for Darklett. From the moment the ship pulled into the dock, the major realized just how much he wishes he could walk a quick town block to Halyard Tavern. He hadn't even bothered to ask where he was headed while on the ship. Now that he's standing in the dock's main square, he looks, and feels, helpless. "...Where is this?" he tries to ask one of the sailors that passes by.

One of the sailors pauses and gives Darklett an odd look. "'s a port, mate, what's 't look like?"

"No, I mean. What port?" Darklett glances sidelong at the sailor. "Where am I?"

"Pepper Island," is the sailor's response, before he goes on his way.

"Pepper Island," Darklett repeats. He looks a little downtrodden; he'd been hoping it'd be something he recognized. He just stands there for a moment longer before walking towards the main part of town to get some information.

One of Dark's rescuers trots after him and falls into step beside him. Chelan! Captain's son, as we discovered last time. "Ya look like someone just stomped on yer pet cricket, mate."

Darklett's ears perk and he turns to the side to face the sea otter. "Heh, yeah. I was just kind of hoping I'd at least know where I was." The hare walks along, thinking, before turning towards the otter again. "So do you know this town, or...?"

Chelan nods. "Oh yeah! Been here a few times. Nice place, nice place. You'll like it! Better'n Mossflower." He sinks his paws into his pockets.

"Hah. I'm... Sure it has its charms." Darklett doesn't want to offend nor commit. "Who would I talk to about the next ship to Mossflower? Do you know?"

"Dock master? Name's Jansin. 'Less the bloke's dead." Chel shrugs.

"Jansin," Darklett repeats. "Good." And as he walks there's a few moments of quiet from him, before he decides to ask the burning question. "...Chel, I'm kind of afraid to ask this, but how far away /am/ I from home?"

"Uhhhhh." Chel kind of rubs at the back of his neck. He stops in the middle of the road, going down on one knee while he digs in his pack. "You know how t'read nautical maps?" Apparently he can't bring himself to /say/ it. He pulls out a rolled up parchment, which he spread out on the ground. He holds the corners in place with a couple small rocks. Glances upward.

"Any different than land maps?" Darklett half murmurs this as he looks down at the map, eyes scanning over it to try and locate Pepper Island, first.

"Eh," Chel mutters. The otter points to Pepper Island, then draaaaws his finger along, along, along... and finally stops on Mossflower. There's a scale in the bottom corner of the map. Dark can check it for himself.

Darklett's mouth drops, a little, his paw going to his headfur to drag backwards through it. He's stunned. "...I'm not getting a ship to Mossflower, am I?"

"/Dammit/, ye ol' loon, next time ye try t' cheat me 'll lay y' out flat an'-- .. whadda'ye mean I /can't/?" There's a deep, annoyed growl from somewhere across the little town's square, where a large, kilted otter stands in the doorway of a shop, arguing with the owner. "'m 'alf again yer size an' I /can/ bloody well tie ye in a knot if I feel like it, ye /git/!"

"You might get a ship goin' somewhere that's goin' somewhere that's going to Mossflower," Chel says - kind of apologetically. He glances around then at the raised voices. Smirks. "That's one thing about Pepper. Lotta arguments. Gotta watch yerself."

"No problem with that," Darklett mutters, turning towards the source of the argument. Can't very well ignore it forever. "...You have got to be kidding me." Darklett leans forward a little, narrowing his eyes. "That's..." He takes a few steps towards the argument, trying to judge if it really is him.

Oh, it's him alright. Zade kicks his boot out against the frame of the door, making it shudder. Not a very sturdy little shop, is it? The otter shows his teeth at the guy inside, then turns, shaking himself, going to head off away. He hasn't seen Darklett yet.

Chel does not recognize the other otter. The other, much larger otter! He looks skeptically between Dark and Zade. "Ya know 'im?" He trails after, curious.

"Zade." Darklett says it to Chelan first. "His name's Zade, and I really never thought I'd be this glad to see him. Zade!" He calls out to the other otter, of the river rather than sea variety. For the first time since he's been lost at sea, he actually can't keep himself from smiling.

Zade's small ears flick and his stride slows, then stops after a few steps. He turns. "... what. /What/." There's a moment of just staring at Darklett, before a barking laugh comes out of the big mustelid. "/What/! Are ye /doin'/ 'ere!"

Chelan just looks lost. He kind of trails along, looking between the pair. This buck's got the /strangest/ luck ever.

"You really wouldn't believe me..." Darklett shakes his head, still smirking. "But I got thrown out to sea by a huge osprey, picked up by a pirate ship, thrown overboard during a shark attack while a storm was happening then got picked up by," he points his thumb over his shoulder, "Chelan here and his father's ship, and they took me here."

"Uh... huh." Zade's brows are lifted, muzzle twisting into an expression of amusement. "Osprey, pirates, shark, storm. 's that all?" The big otter gives Chelan a glance with heading toward Darklett, looking him up and down. "Y' look like th' wrong end o' a toad, Maj. An'.. yer a /looon'/ way from yer mountain, 'll tell ye that righ' now, heh."

In the face of the older two's conversation, Chelan takes a step back. "Well, I should go check in with Da'. You all right, Dark? Ya need a bed, we're gonna be docked for a while." Another step back.

Darklett heaves a huge breath, sighing it out as he knowingly nods. "Yeah, I know. Chelan just showed me just how far it is away." The major looks back towards the sea otter. "So where should I go to get Zade here to buy me a drink? Fates know I need it. And hey, join us. Not like they're gonna leave you or anything."

Oh. Well. Chel hesitates. "Ah, well. Okay! Um. There's this little back-alley place I know... kinda rowdy." He looks between the pair and doesn't /dare/ ask if they're up for it. The young whippersnapper's not an idiot. "Ya game?"

"Oh 's /that/ 'ow 's gonna be?" Zade says with a growl at Darklett, but he's grinning. That grin is then directed at Chel. "Oh, aye? I reckon I know th' one yer talkin' 'bout. C'mon Maj, let's get ye some booze in ye." He reaches to make a grab for Darklett's arm.

"Hey, you're the local expert, I'll trust you." Darklett's arm is grabbed, and he guesses he's about to be led off to the bar regardless of whether or not he wants to. "I'm game." The sight of a familiar face has healed Darklett's mood considerably.

Ah, well! Chel lets Zade lead, then! "Who'd you come in on?" he asks of the other otter.

"Came in on /my/ damn ship," Zade says with a gruff note, tugging Darklett along. He pushes the buck in front of him and lets go with a herding gesture. "Me an' two ol' buddies o' mine. We 'ad some rough waters an' a pissed off seal so now we got repairs t' do." He thumbs toward the shop. "Bloody git o'er there tried cheatin' me out'a th' money we 'ave fer fixin' 'er up."

"So how long've /you/ been stranded here?" The major asks the otter, probably more interested in another detail of that story, but for now sticking to conversation.

"Stranded? Hah. I ain' /stranded/, Maj, 'm jes' takin' m' time, see," Zade chuckles. "Got no where t' go an' nothin' t' do, not since lil' Sivvy took off t'ward Sal'mandastron wit' all 'em."

It's kind of nippy out. Chel turns his collar up, ducking his head a little. His shoulders hunch. "That that great big hunk o' rock with the fire badger in it?" The legends have clearly not reached his home untwisted.

Dark's almost going to nod and say yes until something strikes him odd. "Uh, no fire badger. It's called the 'Fire Mountain' sometimes, because it's an old volcano. It's been a while since there's been a Badger Lord. /I/, for one, think we don't really need one and we've been getting on just fine without one." But, to Zade, "Sivvy... D'you mean Sivaine? When'd she leave for Salamandastron? She wasn't there when I was."

Zade snorts at the misconstrued myth, and shakes his head. "What, she didn' get there? 'ow long ye been gone, Maj? Siv an' Harper an' th' others, they left.. ach, must'a been a month 'r more 'go, now. Headed t' Sal'mandastron t' see th' wee one, I think 's th' reason."

/Oh/. Chel ducks his head and falls silent again.

"...Uhh, no, none of them had reached the mountain. I've been gone for a pretty long time, though. They may've just arrived right after I got lost." No worries! Darklett shakes his head as they approach what looks to be the bar. "This it?" He looks at Chelan questioningly.

Chelan glances up. Hm? Oh! Yes. He nods his head to the little dive. "Yeah. Yeah, that's it. /Yeah/." He grins, straightening when he seems a few familiar faces milling outside. Becoming instantly more cocky. "'Ey. 'Ey! C'mon. /C'mon/. Where's the love? Been gone fer /months/ ain't even worth a 'how-do' no more?" He quickens his pace, arriving ahead of the other two to exchange greetings.

"Oh, huh. 'r maybe they died, who knows," Zade says with a shrug and a low chuckle, following Chel into the little pub. Rowdy, oh yes it is. A grin works its way across his muzzle. "/Nice/! Real nice, mate," the otter aims at Chel, and heads toward the bar.

This is just what Darklett needs. Places like this are bad places for hares with bad luck, Chel. As they step in, Darklett follows Zade to the bar, sliding up onto a stool. Ahhh. He doesn't look too comfortable yet, but he still feels safer than he probably should.

Much safer than he probably should, because /another/ big sea otter comes up to Chel and punches him in the back. "HEY!" Chel shouts, turning around with fist raised - but then he comes as close to a squeal as any sailor with a wish not to be beaten up can safely do and /lunges/ forward, catching the other otter in a fierce hug. "HEY! Long time no see!" And the two start talking ports and schedules and so on. Catching up.

"Round o' ales fer me an' me bes' mate 'ere, aye?" Zade says good-naturedly to the 'tender, producing a few coins to pay for it. He gives Darklett one hard thump on the back and then glances over, eyeing the big sea otter. He grins, and the expression then turns back to Darklett. "So 'ey, 'ow'd y' like th' kilt, Maj?"

"The kilt! Hah." Darklett rolls his eyes, ears twitching at the bigger otter. "It was great. Wore it every day, can't believe I forgot it when the osprey took me on holiday." When the ale comes, Darklett is very grateful, eyes locked on the mug until he takes the first few gulps, savoring it. "Ahh..." His eye is kept on the big sea otter until he's sure he's harmless. Then, ale.

"Bloody liar, ye don' 'ave th' guts t' put 't on," Zade accuses, with a light punch. His knuckles connect with Darklett's upper arm and the otter laughs, taking up his mug after that and ... draining it.

"I put it on /once,/" Darklett admits, chuckling into his ale, almost spilling it from the punch, which spins him a little. "If you were a Long Patrol Major, you wouldn't wear it, either."

"I would /so/! Ye know why, bucko?" Zade chuckles, clumping his mug down on the bartop and gesturing for a refill. "'cause 'd look /damn/ good in 't, 's why! Reckon ye do too, ey, Maj? Ye can't wear th' blasted uniform all th' time, either."

"I don't wear the /same/ uniform. I have like... Five of them." Darklett gets indignant, but playfully so. He is not quite ready for a refill, just sipping instead of draining like Zade does.

Zade takes a swig of his second drink, but goes at it slower than the last one. "Yeah, but they're the /same/. /Thing/. I mean I know the heroic soldierin' look ain't bad, bet ye get a good many swoonin' girlies. 'r lads! Whiche'er ye prefer, ey, Maj?" He elbows at the buck's ribs. "But really. Nothin' like a kilt t' mix up yer wardrobe a bit."

"It's unreasonable, Zade. Unreasonable." Darklett shakes his head. "I can't go about the mountain wearing a kilt, just... No, can't do it. I need hares to take me seriously." Snort. He takes another drink, eyes smiling at Zade as he waits for the retort that's bound to come.

"/I/ wear a kilt," Zade points out, leaning forward. His hand is on the edge of the counter, grip tightening, which causes the muscles in that arm to stand out. The otter's teeth show in a smug grin. "Ye don't think anyone takes /me/ seriously..?"

"I don't think that has /anything/ to do with the kilt, Zade." Darklett grins, gulping once again. "Might have more to do with the fact that you're the size of a house."

"An' /yer/ Darklett bloody Fletchpaw!" Zade points out, nearly cackling. "Reputation like that, ye can dress in a frock an' bonnet if ye want t'!"

"Okay, /fine./ When I get back, I'll... I'll pick a day and wear the kilt. But you have to be there to see me, 'cause I'm not gonna do it again, got it?" Darklett snickers, sipping at his ale. "If you cost me that reputation, though..." He shakes his fist. Hah.

Zade smirks broadly, shoving the fist off away from him. "Oh, aye, figure since 'm goin'a be draggin' yer sorry arse back 'ome, least ye c'n do 's let me cool m' 'eels at th' mountain fer a while, aye, Maj? More drinkin' an' less fist shakin'!"

"I don't know if they'll let you in the mountain. You can stay at Halyard, though." Dark's feelin' pretty good, and it shows. He starts to run his words together. And, as ordered, he drinks more. So maybe his luck isn't so bad after all?