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Dec 17, 2009, 8:46am

Saviour :: Roleplays :: Redwall Fringe Roleplays :: Carapace

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Topic: Carapace (Read 58 times)

Louis Markis
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Louis Markis

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Joined: Feb 2004
Gender: Male

Posts: 90
Location: ColchEng

Carapace
« Thread Started on Feb 25, 2004, 7:41am »

Briefing:
I'm utterly stuck for Fur Future ideas at the moment, can't wrap my head around the concepts needed for my next article, and am trying not to turn hysterical over my upcoming mock exams. So here's a roleplay. Jump in. And don't fret about doing your own thing.

I put it in the Redwall Fringe category because even though it's set in the Redwall world, it explores the concepts of civil war and fascism and has two new towns never heard of before.

The Beginning:

A low rumble sounded beneath the delicate forest scene.
Dulled [FISHY]nlight leaked through the canopy of the forest, illuminated fallen leaves and petals where they lay. A Red Emperor fluttered lazily between tree trunks, a cry of blood red in a frame of greying green and brown. The [FISHY]n hung low in the sky, a cold halo around it.
A form lay beneath an oak, cushioned by leaves and damp earth. It breathed slowly, breath condensing into a plume of wispy smoke in the cold, autumn air. The Red Emperor fluttered into one of these plumes, sagged for a moment, recovered and flew away as the form held its breath.

---

The two villages of Hellespont and Jeneva lie in the marsh. They are an architect's dream, held above the trapping mud by thick oaken stilts. The roads are made of wooden planking, as are the buildings themselves - anything else would surely sink. Archaic designs rule the settlements, unchanging here because of the danger of renewal. Timber which was not hardened to the marsh could deteriorate at any time.
The residents of the villages are chiefly voles. They have sea [FISHY]s enough to stand the changes of the marsh, and resourcefulness enough to combat them. They depend on places such as Salamandastron for forged metal, and Redwall for aid in gathering food, but their technical ingenuities have earnt them this slight decadence. There are many artificers throughout Hellespont who can assemble hinges, latches, catches and all the tasks too delicate for the Badger Lord's paw. There are weavers in Jeneva who can make baskets and clothes of any required standard, and who are proud to do so. The mass production of green tunics and robes for Redwall can be a little difficult sometimes, but the job is always done.

---

Phearson strolled along, whistling merrily to himself. The otter had taken to the road a clear tenday ago, and had left everything behind. Life was good.
He swung his staff jauntily as he walked, occasionally reaching up to knock an apple off its branch or some berries from their bush. His tunic was tucked under his belt, forming a pouch into which the spoils of his journey went.
The birds squawked whenever he knocked a branch, and he laughed. "If ye must sit on branches wi'ripe fruit, ye must expect things like that t'happen!" He was feeling good, and anyone watching him would have known.
The foliage started to get a bit denser. Phearson thrust his way through the green mass, the exulting grin still on his face. A couple of thorns lashed him, but there wasn't any pain. He hopped over a bramble, ducked the branch of a blackberry bush, and tripped on a stray green tendril. It was ivy, and Phearson hoped it wasnt poisonous. He pushed it away from him, and tried to remember the cure for poison ivy stings. Mithra would know, he thought. But she's not here, is she. He touched the spot it had brushed against, but didn't feel anything out of the ordinary. Phearson went back to forcing a path through the undergrowth, keeping a closer eye on the ground and a worried smile on his face.
Moments later, he was clear of the undergrowth. A butterfly flew past and he admired it for a moment, watching the red and black blur as it fluttered along.
The Emperor drew his eyes to the other. A squirrel was curled up on a bed of leaves, staring into space.

---

"Merris, we can sort this out peacefully. There's no need for protests."
The vole stood at the head of a body of his own kind. Purely his own kind. "There's always a need," he snarled. "We've been ballotting for months, calling the public attention to this, and nothing's happened. Your bureaucracy holds us from doing
anything to the common good."
"Excuse me." Lemma, one of Jeneva's councillors, spoke up. "How is this to the common good? We rely on other species for diversity, for creativity which we do not possess ourselves."
Merris smirked. "I knew our tableteer's bedding habits were exotic, but I did not see her stooping so low."
The volemaid snarled right back, pushed Mayor Thair out of the way, and drew her rapier. "We can take this as far as you want, Merris."
He raised a hand above his shoulder to recieve a scabbarded rapier. "Then let us. Lord Mayor, do you say this duel is [FISHY]itimate?"
"I wish you wouldn't, but if it must be done... Yes, it's [FISHY]itimate."
A circle widened, spectators frightened for the outcome. On one side was Merris' group, not as confident as they had been before. On the other were the town council, concern for Lemma all over their faces. The blades met.

---

"Who's there?"
Phearson knelt down, trying to get into her line of sight. "Name's Phearson," he said. "Can you... see me?"
She looked straight through him. "I haven't been able to see for quite some time," she said. "What brings an otter into deepest Mossflower?"
"How d'you do that?"
A faint smile crossed her face. "Scent and sound. Your body and your voice are clearly otter. Now, why here?"
"Adventure!" He grinned. "Fresh air, forest-"
"The chance to leave everything behind?"
His face fell. "Yes," he said. "What gave that away?"
"Your demeanour, false eagerness in your voice. And the fact that nobody healthy of mind and soul comes into these woods alone."
He looked at her more closely, noticed the curve of her jaw and the shape of her muzzle. She was slender, and she didn't look all that strong. "How have you survived so long?"
She blinked, and sat up. "Survival," she said, "isn't a matter of fighting. It isn't even a matter of avoiding the right things. It's just a form of passing through, without being noticed." Her tail twitched, and she stepped forward. "But now you're here," she said, "you can help me get to Jeneva. I was given directions, but it seems they were the wrong ones. You know where it is?"
"I think so."
"The village on the marsh. They're wary of strangers, but they know that they need us."

---

Everything was silent as Merris wiped the blood from his rapier. "Fool woman," he said, and turned to his group. "Another disbeliever meets her fate," he cried out. "Those who do not accept it will fall. This town is only for the voles."
Thair paled. "You can not rule over us with violence, Merris. You can't take our people and crush their spirits."
"I haven't crushed them, Thair. They're stronger now, don't you see? Stronger than ever, and it is I who made them so. Voles will forever remember my name. Now run back to your parchment. Call on whatever aid you will, but you know it is only voles who can settle this now. Run."
Thair turned, walked up the stairs in as dignified a manner as he could muster, and called the council to follow. The doors slammed shut, and Merris' men cheered.

---

OOC: Begin. Play any mentioned character save the squirl-girl or Thair. Both are mine. The rest are yours.

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