Mad Pursuit (Part 1, Group 1)
Mad Pursuit: Part 1, Group 1
Stubb, Hactor, Amos, Scaith, Darkmane
Location: Ruingate: Gallows
Stubb no longer concerns himself with the remaining rat forces, now rather few in number after Darkmane's bloody work, which the horse continues with gusto, his rage inflamed by the kidnapping of his female friend. "Ta hell wif 'im!" the weasel splutters rather incoherently, mingled with a few choice expletives. His eyes are framed in spectacles of sweat and red with passion. His claws work furiously but fruitlessly at the hairline crevice that rings the closed tunnel entrance into which Viddick and the others disappeared. "Curse 'is muvvah!"
Hactor is still rather confused by this turn of events, and shows his frustration by hissing loudly, "I knew that damned rat would be trouble! But I repeat," he began slamming at the entrance with his stick, emphasising each word,"What..the..hell...happened!?" Ove his shoulder he could hear the slaughter but at the moment there where bigger fish to fry.
Stubb's fists fall silent. He heaves a few calming breaths, accepting the futility of this approach. "Dey ambushed us. Oi... Oi miscalcula'ed. To hell wif dat lily-livered..." His exhales loudly. It rises in an angry cloud from his snouth. "We was makin' a deal, that rat, him an us. An oi... Oi... Dey go' tha hare. An... An moi... devoice." He knocks on the closed tunnel. "Dey got ou' frew here. Probably ge'tin' free a tha walls boi now."
Stubb spits. "Dammit, ma'e!"
Hactor furrows his brow when hearing about Dangeon being taken, but at the news of the device he roars, "That little pile of bat droppings!! I'll-I'll-" he nearly broke his stick in half he was so furious. But now it was the foxes turn to take a calming breath. He then spoke in a much calmer tone (though his tail's brisstled), "Why on earth would they take the doe?"
Stubb watches the horse dispatch or chase off the remaining rats as he falls limply to the ground. His leg is bleeding rather badly, but he seems only now to realize it. He touches a claw to it and winces. "Din have a chance ta ask 'im, ya know. Weren' really tha first' fing on moi moind, 'Actor." He allows himself a dry grin. "Tha bastar' set free rats on me an took moi stuff."
Hactor snorts in duscust and mumbles, "Only a coward sets rats to do the fighting." He crouches next to Stubb, only galncing at the leg. He sighes and adjusting his eyepatch asks, "Well what now? It's not as if we can effectivley give chase...Can we?"
The wildcat's [Amos] eyes dart back and forth around the area, he hisses in agreement as Hactor speaks of Dangeon but says nothing. Stripped of his belongings as well, he is mostly undamanaged, having done more damage to the rats that attacked him at their peril. The taste of their hides still in his mouth, "Disgusting creatures them, only good eat'in if ya roost them well."
"Damn if oi know." Stubb clenches his teeth and sucks in air as he tries to rise to his feet, an enterprise he gives up for the moment when Amos approaches. "Glad ta see you made i'. We made mincemeat a dem, eh?" He shudders and manages to rise, wobbly but upright. "Dis tunnel ain' no use, is all oi can say. Sealed toigh'."
Hactor nods to Amos and huffs in irittation at their predicament. He begins to stroke his beard deep in thought, pacing around the area as he does so. Every so often he stops and gazes down at one of the corpses, sometimes crouching to close their eyes, sometimes to take a weapon they would no longer need. But he still was deep in thought all the while.
Amos gives the weasel a look over, grinning, "Aye, that we did, and we ain't done yet!" He turns to look at their surroundings. Pawing his ear, "Argh, one of those bastards took a bite out of my ear, " He hisses.
[Scaith:] Stumbling toward the gallows without dignity or grace is a hooded figure; its face is obscured but its sobriety is already in question. Held in one paw is a growler of some strong-smelling drink, the other an unsheathed dagger that would look menacing if not for the wielder. "Oiiii, is there ganna be an 'angin' tonight?" The voice is shrill and feminine. "I'd def'nitely like a bit o' entertainment. Oo's the lucky fool?"
Stubb limps back toward his pack, leaving little rosebuds of blood in the crisp snow. He offers barely a glance to the dead and dying rats. The circle of earth around the battered backpack is disrupted by a complex tapestry of pawprints and dotted with blood and fur--evidence of the earlier struggle. Much of his bag's former contents has spilled out and sits gathering snowflakes. "I' 'll be you, if ya don' guard your tongue, sweet 'eart!" The weasel is in no mood to tolerate drunkards this evening. He stoops to grab his second weapon, another dagger, then raises it in the newcomer's direction. "Now stay where you are!"
Hactor aproches Stubb,now carrying a short sword and dagger. Any dying rats he passes he finishes off quickly so that they wouldn't suffer too much. Even though he was still an old beggar his warior code would get the better of him.
Amos narrows his eyes and hisses in response to the marten, "Aye, careful ya don't become the entertainment ya be seeking."
Scaith sobers slightly at Stubb's harsh words, stopping in her tracks and letting her arms fall limp at her sides. She nudges her hood back with her snout, and allows one eye to peek through. "Nay need to be so gruff, master Weasel, all y'need to say is that 've missed all the fun," she snuffs, slumping slightly-- though her mood almost immediately shifts back to proud and somewhat mocking. "But nay beast tells /me/ what to do, 'cept m'mum 'n dad, of course." She steps forward, and raises her own dagger at Stubb.
Scaith's attention snaps to Amos, as does the point of her dagger, "Wha's crawled up in y'r bum, ey? This crowd's worser 'n drinkin' by m'self." She sways a bit more before crouching, seeking the comfort of the earth.
Stubb lets his dagger arm fall to his side. There's distance enough between him and Scaith that his threats are pure braggadocio. "You'll pardon us if we're wary a strangers, marten. We jes' 'ad ourselves a bit a unwelcome comp'ny, an oi fink we're abou' done wif en'ertainin' for tha noigh'. Keep your distance an we'll keep ours." He nods to Amos. "Keep your oiyes on dat one, eh?" he says quietly, then turns to retrieve his strewn goods.
Hactor stares at Scaith for a moment with his good eye, before he goes back to taking weapons of off rats. Once he reaches Stubb again he whispers, "I beleave she could be of some use to us."
Darkmane having finished venting his anger on the rats in a rather spectacular and messy manner stalks back toward the closed off area to see if he can't find a way to open it using brute force and some ingenuity, the 'massacre' having allowed his mind to clear and let him think more properly again.
Amos hisses again at Scaith, "Aye, my pleasure, " He grins.
Scaith matches her focus with Amos with utmost intensity. "Aye, liss'n to th' weasel, y'pretty kitty cat," she mumbles, smirking, "Would y'like me to scritch y'r belly?" She motions with the tip of her dagger while crouching on the ground. She somehow seems more lucid than a moment ago, perhaps from the cold, and she suddenly returns to her full height.
Stubb leans into Hactor while still watching the exchange between Amos and the marten. "Oh?" the weasel says skeptically. "Use? For anuvver drunkard? Anuvver beast 'oo 'angs abou' for tha free booze? An jes' wha' use were you finkin'?" He lowers his voice. "Wha's on your moind, warlord? Fink she know da way outa dis dunghole?"
Amos chuckles, still showing off his teeth and staring at the marten in an undicidedly unfriendly manner, "Ya welcome to try missy, want to end up like them rats there eh?" He steps forward, moving to retrieve a weapon, his own belongings scattered but plenty laying in the snow due to the struggle.
Hactor grins a reptialian like grin and replies, "Pricisley. Or if things get hectic...bate." He looked out of the corner of his eye at the marten and continues to Stubb, "Think it over."
Darkmane turns his attention back at the group for a moment "would ya stop acting like lovestruck nutcases already and focus on the more important matters" his attention going back to the entrance and with the help of one of his daggers he manages to find a small gap to focus some force on while pushing as hard as he can against the entrace, a grating sound being heard as the door(boulder or whatever) starts to move
Scaith's sensitive ears catch much of Stubb and Hactor's exchange, and she smiles. "Why not use th'old man f'r bait?" she quips. "'n not that I 'ave to explain m'self to any o' you, but I ain't a drunk, neither." She takes a last swig from her growler, and tosses it at Hactor and Stubb's feet. "'ave some, ey?" All the while, her body remains turned toward Amos.
The sound of the boulder giving way spurs Stubb to cut short his hushed council with the warlord and finish packing his bag, if clumsily. "Bless dat love-made beast!" As the weasel gathers, his paws fall upon the marten's projectile flask. He sniffs at it, then hands it to Hactor. "Warlords firs'."
"Mach oblidged," replies Hactor taking a swig. He then sayes over his shoulder to Amos and Scaith, "Let her come then. We'll need a snack in this weather!" He chuckles a bit darkly as he passes the drink to Stubb. The snow is begening to fall a bit heavily, and the fox goes over to hel Darkmane in any way.
Amos mews, "Ya ya, we know ya want to get Dangeon back. Ya ain't the only one, " The wildcat responds to the horse, still turned toward the marten and doing as instructed as he grips his weapon. In response to Hactor he grunts, clearly not liking the idea given the last time they had someone unknown joined them. "
Darkmane with the help of the others gets the boulder out of the way and looks back at the group. "They have a fair amount of head start so no slacking, if we want to catch em we must move fast." And with those words the equine starts down the tunnel with blades drawn just incase there are some rats left behind to delay.
Stubb pulls the second strap of his pack over his shoulder and grabs the drink from Hactor. He tosses it back toward Scaith. "Seems we don' need no 'elp ge'tin out a here, ma'e," he says to the fox as he limps past, bound for the open tunnel. "If you wanna bring 'er, she's your problem." He brandishes his daggers and plunges ahead.
Hactor nods and with his good arm brandishes the short sword following the horse. Deep down he was hoping there would be more rats. The warior in him was looking forward to more combat and bloodshed. (Hopefully he wouldn't loos anymore body parts this time.)
Scaith steps towards Amos, still curious about the cat. "So why's a big ol' beastly kitten like y'self takin' orders from these ruffians? Shouldn't ye--" She's cut off by the sudden noise of the boulder moving and everyone else moving on. "Oi, what's the 'urry?" She casually follows through the tunnel, dagger still in hand.
Teasing somewhat as the marten approaches, Amos blinks at her question and then turns his head at the noise of the boulder being moved. Watching as the others move off through the tunnel, he follows, "Just don't cause any trouble, and ya free to do as ya wish, " He warns the marten, moving swiftly to catch up with the others.
