More trouble for Arundal

The path to war begins...

The morning dawns on the Bushfolk camp, painting it in an errie red light. Somehow fitting for the state of the camp. The vermin encampment has changed since the last time. It has grown larger, there are several hundred tents pitched in the once large clearing, which has become crowded with vermin. The majority of beasts are no longer elderly or children. There are young beasts and adults here, each dressed in a combination of traditional warrior garb, animal skin vests and war paint, and also those dressed in more 'civilized' garb, armor plates, modern studded leather. The majority of vermin, foxes and weasels moslty, appear to walk about the camp armed with spears, axes, and maces. Some made with stone, others made with iron.

For his part, Rorgan knew he would want to be careful when facing these bushfolk, but if he mentioned his parents, perhaps they would leave him alone for the most part. If not...well..he could at least fight until he died, but there was no way for him to sneak in with this many vermin who would raise the alarm on sighting him. It is with this in mind that Rorgan rises from the bushes he had been hiding in at the outskirts of the camp and begins to make his way through, making sure to keep his paws visible to show that he is not trying to attack.

Oh the stares the otter recieves. Most vermin stop what they are doing and stare at him in every way other than freindly or currious. A small group of beasts begin to follow the otter. The group grow as he walks further into the camp. they remain silent as they walk. The leaders tent lays ahead with a single ferret dressed in squirrel hides to not so much guard the entrence as to keep unwanted beasts out of it.

And ahead towards the tent Rorgan walks, very much aware of the growing crowd that he is gaining. He stops at the tent entrance in front of the ferret. "I need t' speak with yer leader," He says evenly, seeming to almost stare through the ferret guard.

The ferret matches his stare with one of his own. It appears to be the same lanky ferret as before. "Welcome back Rorgan. Variken thought you might return sometime. He wishes to speak with you but is in a meeting with other tribe leaders at the moment. You can not enter."

Rorgan crosses his arms rather stubbornly, his eyes cold. "Where is my family?" He asks. Honestly, that was the main thing he had been planning to talk to Variken about anyway, and so if this ferret could answer him, then that was a load off his shoulders for the most part.

"RORGAN!" The otter is suddenly assaulted by another otter. A familiar one who wraps him in a bare hug that one would not expect from such a small otter. Rorgan's father appears shortly afterward but at a more controlled pace. The ferret snickers, "Apparently right here." The crowd, with out a reason to stay any longer begin to disperse. Apparently this intruder is known to the tribe. A few still eye the otters warily as they walk away.

Rorgan can hardly stay on his feet when his mother nearly tackles him with a hug, and he can't help but laugh as he wraps his own arms around Galah as much as he can, though his arms are mostly trapped by the other otter.

She doesn't let go, only continues to squeeze the life out of him. "What are you doing here?" She shouts, "Don't you know its dangerous out there! You could have been mugged, or killed or worse!" The ferret stands there awkwardly. Not really wishing to bud into the conversation but can't exactly leave either. The tent flap opens behind him and several beasts begin to file out of the tent. Elderly vermin beasts, a fox, a ferret, a weasel, even a stoat. All dressed in either thick sweaters or traditional Bushfolk garb. They eye the otters curriously as they walk past.

Rorgan laughs in a slightly wheezing tone as his mother continues to squeeze him. "M-Ma!" He protests, slightly embarrassed. "A l-little less t-tight..." He can handle many things, but his mother's hugs are a force to be reckoned with. He can't even be bothered to notice the beasts that come out of the tent as he tries to not completely suffocate.

"Let the poor lad up, dear." The otters father laughs, "He ain't going to bolt on us the moment you let go." Galah replies with, "How do you know? He did last time!" She non the less lets him go. The ferret dissapears into the tent. He returns shortly there after. "Chief Veriken would like to speak with you after...um, you are done here."

Rorgan takes a look at his mother, and he gives the otter a soft smile. "Mother, trust me. I'm right here, and I won't be goin' anywhere without tellin' you." He says gently. He looks back at the ferret, and nods. "Tell him I'll be in there in a second. I haven't seen my parents fer a while." Turning back, he now gives his father a hug as well. "It's good t' see you both.." He mumbles happily. For all his feats and toughness, he is still particularly young.

The otters enjoy the company of their son...at least until they realize, "Wait! You were in jail!" The middle aged father of the twins says with out warning, "How...how did you get out? Did your brother get that job done for Tavis? Where is Derrin?"

Rorgan quickly begins to look very confused when Derrin comes up. "Wait...forget jail, what job are you talkin' about? I haven't seen Derrin since I came back t' Silver Valley!" His face is absolutely beffudled, showing that he has zero knowledge of recent events.

His parrents exchange glances before answering. "Honey...your brother made a deal with Tavis Longtail to find Byron. In exchange you wouldn't be harmed and we could leave the city in peace." The ferret guard standing here coughs politely, "Wow, this is...awkward." He debates whether or not he can guard the tent from inside the tent itself.

Rorgan rubs the back of his neck slowly, trying to think. "Right..." He says slowly. He could definitely see the many ways that this could go wrong for Derrin, but he knew his brother wouldn't be as worried about it, being the more reckless of them. "An' how long ago did this happen?" He asks finally.

Lee pages, "Hello" to you, Rorgan and Zarola.

The ferret coughs politly again, "Um...not to be a bother but, by 'when you are done here' I'm pretty sure Veriken...er, the Chief ment as soon as possible." The otters ignor him, "Not that long ago. You, you don't think he is still in Arundal do you?" His father replies, his mother just looks sick with worry.

Rorgan shakes his head decisively, doing his best to keep himself from running back out and searching for his brother. "No. If he was lookin' fer Byron, then he's likely out of Arundal. All we can do is hope he succeeds in his job. Fer now, just let me speak with Veriken, alright?"

The otters both nod, "We will talk more after you get back. Vari is..." Galah says, rubbing the back of her neck, "Not well right now." Rorgan's father crosses his arms, "That is one way to put it. If you can try to talk some sense into him." The ferret opens the tent flap for the otter warrior to enter.

Rorgan sighs, and turns away from his parents, entering the tent, looking down in humble respect. He remembered what Varikan had thought of him last time they had met, and he wasn't really in the mood to fight with the fox, especially when he needed said fox's help.

The fox is alone in the tent. The red fox's fur is mostly exposed under the 'traditional' beaded vest he is wearing. His waist is covered by a pair of trousers and a leather sash. On his head is a large feather head dress that extends down to his tail...which is also wrapped in feathers. With black paint criss crossing his way down his body the fox turns to the otter. "Hello Rorgan." He pauses for a moment, "It's...traditional." He says shyly as if he would rather be wearing anything else but the traditional cheiftains garb.

Rorgan raises his eyes ever so slightly, and he meets Variken's eyes. "Uh..hullo Variken." He says. "You...uh.....wanted t' see me?" His stance is rigid, and his paws are behind his back. He didn't want to take any chances here with disrespect of any kind.

The fox nods his head, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yes its...I need to ask a personal favor." He begins to pace back and forth, waving his paws about as he talks, "You may have noticed that the camp has changed since you have been here. With Grandfathers passing I have taken over the Mkuta part tribe of the Bushfolk. The other tribe leaders agree that something must be done about Arundal. They have amassed an army to the north, beasts called the Militia. It's only a matter of time before they attack us." He says, his tone is...odd. Rehersed rather, prehaps more for himself than others.

Rorgan nods slowly, making sure to keep track of everything being discussed. "An' you want me t' assist in defense?" He offers in suggestion. The jobs that beasts usually ended up hiring for or asking him to do ended up being very repetitive in nature, so he had gotten good at guessing most times.

The fox shakes his head, "No. Its...your parents. I..." He rubs at his arm. "Your parents are good friends to the tribe. When the plague struck they came in to take care of the kits who lost their family to the plague and the violence that followed. For a lot of us, for me, they are the only family they really have." Variken looks up to the otter then, "I want you to take them somewhere safe. We are sending the non combative beasts away from the camp soon, but even then its no guarantee they will be safe with them. You though...you are a city beast. You can take them else where away from this."

For the first time, sympathy and sadness fills the otter's eyes. "Variken...let me fight with you. I can lead my parents an' the others away an' come back. You'll need every fighting paw that you can muster, an' I won't stand by while I can do something t' help." He reaches out and places a paw on the fox's shoulder. "Please, Variken, I can't abandon these beasts that my parents worked so hard t' save."

The fox seems to rock back and forth in place. "Rorgan...the battle is going to be bloody. I...I think I made a mistake, but I...things are already in motion..." The fox seems to be having second thoughts, "For the longest time I just wanted to burn Arundal to the ground...but...that wouldn't be right, but I can't stop now either. It's..." He realizes he is babbling. Shakinghis head he casts off the otters paw, "If you want to stay and fight I will not stop you. But know that the Bushfolk and Arundal are at war now. The beasts there may not take too kindly to you after this."

Rorgan chuckles softly, crossing his arms over his chest. "That's alright. I don't think I'm in good standing with that town t' begin with," He says with a hint of humor in his tone. "Trust me, when this battle starts, I'll be right there by yer side. Deal?"

The fox grins. He looks somewhat relieved and yet still stressed. "Go be with your parrents. I have...things to discuss with the tribe." The fox turns, setting the itchy feather head dress down on a cushion. Blasted thing. The fox looks in a near by mirror and sighs. By all that is holy he hopes he knows what he is doing...