From Bad to Worse

Derrin is led back to the Militia camp where they find that the xenophobic woodlanders have started to dig fortifications with out Arundal's consent...

By the time the beasts make it back to camp the sun is begining to rise over the forrest. It is a beautifull site tainted only by the blood spilled just a few hours earlier. The soldiers look tired, exhasted and expent, especially those forced to half carry, half drag Byron the fox's bulk. The camp north of the village is larger than one expected. A simple clearing with tents pitched in a large circle. Around the camp beasts are hard at work making entrencements, digging ditches and lining them with wooden spikes. Sergeant Snips ignores the fox's terrifed look and comments, "Well, something new has been added." Elise leans on her walking staff, even her foot paws are in starting to hurt, "I don't remember there being fortifications when we left."

Derrin's keen eyes scan the area as he walks along. He had been very used to traveling long distances, so he couldn't say he was as exhausted as the others, but he was certainly curious as to why entrenchments were being made. "Sergeant, who is in charge here?" He asks, having made sure to stay close to the hare while they walked.

Snips rubs at his chin, "More like who /was/ in charge here. Someone's head is going to roll for this. The arundalers are going to freak out when they see this!" Snipps growls as he continues to walk towards the camp. Prehaps its from simple oversight that he hasn't put two and two together that Derrin is not who he says he is, or maybe it is because his stressed mind has reached a breaking point and he needs to believe that somewhere, order still exists and if that otter fills that spot, then so be it.

Derrin continues to follow after the hare, very curious to find out what was going on around here. "What do you mean, was?" He asks, making sure to square his shoulders and at least act as though he was the lieutenant that he used to be. "Who is the senior officer?"

"Was as in, the corperal that I left in charge is going to get demoted back to the stone age!" The hare rants as they enter the main /gate/ as it were. A small dirt bridge leading into the camp. Guards part to let them through. Beasts Salute. The hare shouts at the nearest guard, "What is the meaning of this? Who ordered this?" The terrifed mouse squeaks a stuttered reply. "I-it was..." Before he can finish the hare walks off, too much in a rage to listen to the answer. "Don't you worry lieutenant Derrin I will get to the bottom of this!" Snips walks towards the command tent in the center of camp.

Actually quite curious, Derrin follows after the hare, nodding to the beasts that begin saluting him after the mention of the word 'lieutenant'. "Sergeant!" He says with a hard tone, suggesting that the hare should pay attention to the otter at the moment.

Snips however is beyond all hope. Some beasts were just not ment to be military commanders. Fueled by a desire to please the 'lieutenant' behind him the hare marches towards the tent. He is stopped by the Lancers at the entrence. "What is the meaning of this! Where is Corporal Lars! Take me too him now or so help me you will be digging latrines with a spoon for the rest of your miserable peon pathetic carriers!"

"Now isn't that a bit harsh?" A voice calls out from inside the tent. The flap opens, revealing a small, tailess brown mouse dressed in polished platemail. Even with out the armor Luco is pretty easy to recognize with the jagged scar across his face. "Corporal Lars isn't in write now, can I take a message?"

The hare nearly fiants at the sight of the Supreme Leader of Militia. He salutes quickly, "Sir!" The mouse chuckles, "At ease." His gaze bores a hole through the otter next to the hare though. They have met before, sort of, its been so long since Derrin was a captive in the militia base. No its his twin brother that Luco got to meet well, and who looks so familiar. If he reconizes the resemblence he doesn't mention it. An instant later Luco replies with a slight cough. "It's to be suspected. When I heard that Tavis was missing I ordered the change myself. You're men did good." The mouse turns his gaze towards the fox, "I see you brought friends."

Derrin, who had also given the mouse a salute, stands with his feet slightly apart and his paws clutched behind his back nervously. However, he does not turn his gaze away from Luco's, knowing that it would be suicide to do so. "Sir, I ordered the soldiers t' bring Byron back t' Arundal t' testify against Edwin on Tavis' orders." He says evenly.

Luco begins coughing for a long moment. He turns away from the troops as it gets worse. Finally taking a deep breath and covering his mouth with a cloth he clears his throat. "Ah yes, Tavis did mention him in the letter. And here I thought Tavis was exagerating about his size." The mouse snaps his armored fingers. Two guards push the fox forward. Reaching forward Luco grabs the fox by the muzzle, bringing him eye to eye with himself, "Mr. Longtail...and yes I do appreciate the irony that you have the same last name as Tavis. Tell me Mr. Longtail, how badly do you want to live?" The fox whines, "Glad to hear it. Otter, make this beast comfortable, get him something to eat, some wine. He is going to tell us all about Arundal, and about everyone who has ever supported its /glorious/ mayor. In detail."

Derrin nods and salutes again, gripping Byron by the arm and beginning to lead the fox away. However, he stops and turns to Luco again. "Where should I keep him, sir?" He asks, feeling as though he is about to burst out laughing from the relief that Luco hadn't mentioned anything or recognized him for the most part.

Luco points with the paw holding the cloth, its interesting to note that the white cloth has been stained red. "That tent should do. And remember Byron, if you tell us what we want to know, I'll let you live." With that the mouse turns back to the command tent leaving the otter and hare to lead the fox to his new accomidations.

Derrin quickly turns, still gripping Byron's arm with an iron grip. "Alright, let's get you going," He says evenly, continuing to walk towards the tent without looking back.

• • • Some time later...***

"...and then, and then he says what ferret?" The militia beasts get a good hearty laugh. Inside the tent. Byron is busy doing what Byron does best. With the threat of death no longer effecting him the fox has spilled the beans so to speak, and being rewarded for it. Over the course of one large meal, fish, casseroles, pies and everything nice, the grey furred glutton has told the militia every dark deed he has ever committed for Edwin. The list is extensive. Assaults, destruction of property, racketeering. Even hiding bodies. The fox maybe not be good with paperwork but his memory of details of events and beasts, especially those who benefit the most from the Shrewish mayor is amazing. Snipps is having trouble keeping up with writing what the fox says down on the a scroll of paper.

Derrin is also sitting in the tent, keeping an eye on everything and mostly acting as the supervising officer over the question and answer session. To be absolutely honest, he had to admit that the militia beasts were getting along with Byron this easily, though that could mostly be contributed to Byron's amazing social skills.

The fox leans back in his chair and sighs, the fox loves his meals obviously but even he has limits. "Pity about my cousin being kidnapped. Hope for the best with that one. Do say hello to him when you find him Derrin." Snips raises an eyebrow, "Tavis is your cousin but...he's a mouse..." Before an answer can be made the tent opens again. This time luco is dressed in a simple brown tunic tucked into a thick leather belt. "At ease. How goes the interrogation. I trust Byron isn't giving you any trouble?"

Derrin quickly stands and faces Luco in an at ease stance. As overseeing officer, it was his duty for the moment to report progress. "Byron has given us all of the information that we have required, sir," He says quickly, his eyes and stance not as tense as before, but still cautious. "The interogation has been a success."

The mouse walks over and prods the sitting fox in his enlarged stomach. The fox's gut hangs somwhere around his knees when standing or when sitting, "And you have successfully stuffed him with our finest food as well I see." The fox chuckles, "You know how to treat a beast well Luco. I must say, I'm surprised. I had you militia beasts pegged all wrong." The fox stretches in his seat, "You need anything else I'm your fox. Just let me know." The mouse nods. Folding his paws behind his back the he says to the otter, "A fine job indeed. Otter, follow me. The rest of you...I have one last job for Byron. My cape has started to get a bit ratty. His hide will make an excellent replacement."

The fox sits up right in his chair, he can't believe his ears, "B-but You said you would let me live!" Luco gives him a coy smile, "I did, I just didn't say for how long." And then leaves, gesturing the otter to follow.

Without hesitation, Derrin begins to follow Luco out of the tent as the rest of the militia soldiers in the tent begin to advance on the fox. Derrin was not willing to risk himself for Byron, seeing as how helping a vermin had jeopardized his life last time, and he didn't need that while he was trying to keep everyone else from remembering why his name was so familiar, which was difficult considering he had become somewhat well knwon throughout the militia in this area. These thoughts all run through his head as he follows the mouse, and his heart beat quickens as he begins to worry about if Luco had put two and two together before everyone else.

"Luco! Luco! Wait! Don't be a fool! We can talk about this!" There is pleading in the fox's voice, "Derrin! Luco! Luuuuuuucoooooo!" Please that fall upon deaf ears. "Waste of food if you ask me." The mouse says, smile fading, "But the wife is always nagging me about never bringing her something nice. I guess a fox fur vest will do." The mouse pauses to cough again. This time the coughing spell is short. "Otter, Derrin, right? I have a special job for you." He chuckles, "Don't worry, not the same as Byron. You look like a capable beast. I need you to take that tracker you have and find Travis. Prehaps where armies have failed a few beasts might succeed."

Derrin slowly nods, trying his best to look as though he agrees one hundred percent with what the mouse is saying. "Aye, sir. I'll find the tracker and we'll be off as fast as possible. Where should we start the search?"

The beast smiles broadly, "I would start in Arundal, it was where he was last seen." The mouse folds his paws behind his back, "You have your orders, leave at first light." With that he just...walks away. The tailless mouse hums a cheerful tune as he walks. The guards of his tent salute as he enters.

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Byron (me)

Byron Longtail is tall and very fat grey furred fox in his 15th or 16th season. His long ears and mix match of colors in his eyes, one blue the other brown suggest that not all of his ancestors were foxes. His fur starts at a light shade of grey on his middle and gradually grows darker along his body until forming an almost black stripe down his back. He is also an incredibly heavy set vulpine. His obese body is saturated with rolls of fat to the point that his great belly hangs somewhere below his knees when he is walking on his hind legs, and brushes against the ground when he leans too far forward. Byron wears a loose fitting pair of brown cloth trousers. His chest is adorned by a light blue cloth vest, frayed at the edges and left open to expose the expanse that is his chest and stomach.

Derrin

Derrin is a jet black colored otter that wears a green vest with no undertunic. His pants are black lace up pants that fit tightly to his legs, as does his vest. He is around six feet tall and his body appears to be very well built, though not overly muscular. That you can tell, he carries no weapons with him, but has white handwraps around his paws, signifying him as a hand to hand fighter. His eyes are a piercing ice blue and hold a large degree of calm in them and they look at everything with a strong confidence reflected in them.