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Started by Broof, November 02, 2017, 09:57:29 PM

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Broof

Another little one born in the aftermath of larp weekend.

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Sergeant Fontain, or rather just Sargent Archi huffed his was up the side of a dune that seemed intent on keeping him at its bottom, sand sliding around his foot paws as he finally crested the top, then he began slipping slowly down the other side. His head had hardly slid out of sight before an arrow thudded into the sand where he had been only moments before. His free paw struck out into the sand, digging down almost to the elbow as he managed to stop himself slipping down the sand any more, his sabre flashed in the morning light as his right paw whipped it around in an upwards jab just as a rat came over the dune, sword clutched over his head in both paws.
The sergeants sabre was there to meet him, coming up smoothly and running the vermin though before pulling the sword back in one neat motion as he resuming his slide down the dune side.

"Sorry old boy but no time to dawdle around with the likes of you!"

He muttered to himself as he reached the bottom, moving quickly onto both feet before before setting off at a jog across the sand. His gaze turned to the east, up past the sand and towards the treeline clouds of black and white smoke reached into the blue sky. The smoke issued from the remains of the Patrol camp. In the early morning dawn flaming arrows had rained from the treeline and onto the large canvas tents. Thankfully no one had died in the blaze that quickly over took the camp. The same could not be said about the battle that had quickly followed, and had raged across the dunes for over three hours now. The surprise attack by over fifty vermin seemed to have worked both ways, as the surprise was turned on the attackers when forty quite able fighting hares had charged to meet the foes. For two hours almost a hundred beasts had run across the sands and met massed charges or small groups of handfuls amongst the towering dunes. Dark patches of crimsons sand showed in the sunlight, as well as the bodies of the fallen, sometimes a rat or a weasel and other times a hare crumpled on red sand.
The sergeant grunted slightly as he pulled a rolled bandage from his shoulder bag and began winding it about his upper left arm before tying it in a crude knot, one end gripped in the right paw while the other went between his teeth, he gave a sharp tug on both ends and a small gasp from the sharp stinging pain. The wound was nothing serious, a glancing blow from a pike that had nicked his arm as he dove to the sand about half an hour before. With a grunt of disgust he gave a half hearted kick at the corpse of a fox as he jogged past, the creatures was face down in the sand with a javelin protruding from between its shoulder blades, a ragged red cloak blowing in the light wind that came in off the sea.

"I say.. Sarge! Could use a paw, wot!"

The shout came from not too far off, slightly closer to the treeline that Merryweather was. He turned on the heel of his paws as he spotted the figure. A hare in a red tunic was slumped against a large rock at the top of slight rise in the sand. He quickened his pace slightly as he began to make his way up the slope before his eye caught movement behind the rock. A rat clambered to the top of the rock from it's shadow and raised a spear in both paws, ready to thrust it down on the prone hare below. With a howl of rage Merryweather pulled the dirk from his belt, gripping the blade in one paw he hurled it at the rat, his foot-paw catching on a dropped sword as he did so. Pain shot though his foot as the blade left his paw, his throw knocked off by the slight trip. It flew though the air end over end before the hilt struck the vermin in shoulder, with a cry the rat slipped from the rock as the sergeant covered the last few paces like a thunderbolt, leaving small specks of blood in the sand as he lunged forwards and fell atop the rat. The shaft of the spear cracked into his cheek leaving a bloodied bruise. His sword came round and skipped off the shaft, leaving a curl of wood on the blade.

"No luck there long ears!"

The rat cackled at him only inches away. His sword dropped to the sand, and the next moment his paw came up clutching a rock, swinging in from the side it cracked into the others skull with a soft thud. The rats body went limp, his eyes rolling backwards as Merryweather fell from his body, dropping the rock and grabbing his sword again before bringing it down into the rats chest for good measure. Panting for breath he pushed himself upright, his sword in the sand like a cane as he made his way over to the figure at the rock, only now seeing the two other dead rats laying in the sand.
Against the rock was the smaller frame of the runner Bennet, his fur was wet with sweat and the sand under him was dark red with spilled blood. His tunic had a few rips in the cloth but nothing seeming to go too deep. His eyes then spotted a broken spear protruding from the young ones side, though thankfully it seemed to have only gone though skin and fur, nothing vital. As his eyes went lower however he saw the root of the problem. The runners left leg was a state to behold. Someone had clearly got in a good swing with a sword and had almost taken the leg off below the knee. The sergeant gave an inner wince as he slumped himself down next to the other against the rock, catching his breath only for a moment before pulling his belt and tunic off leaving his red waistcoat on.

"How do Sah... Seems one of the blighters got me good and propper... spear though the side. Then the leg..."
"Bennet you blithering fool, Runners should not be out in hand to hand combat. No, don't look at that leg that's an order! you just keep a look out while I get you sorted."

He said this as the others eyes strayed towards his leg, but then snapped away at the order and began looking out over the sand.

"Cant really feel it to be honest Sah, makes a chap feel queasy looking at it though... Was running with orders Sah, saw these vermin about to jump on poor old Margret, couldn't let that happen sah!... Got two of em though wot!"
"Aye lad, you got them good before the other one got you. Looks like you lost quite a bit of blood though, so dont try and move, you just sit there and rest a while. Gonna' have to leave that spear in your side though, im not a healing beast and it would do more harm if I tried to pull it out. Margret alright?"
"Yes'ah, galloped off to find the Brigadier. Hope she's alright wot."
"She'll be fine, and great-full im sure that such a gallant hero came to her rescue."
"Gosh, you think so?"
"Im sure. Now then, you know that a Sargent is your best friend out here in the thick of it right."
"I'll say sah!"

The sergeant nodded slowly as he carefully looped his belt under the ruined leg above the knee, careful not to move it before he slumped back against the rock, looking about for a moment before reaching out and taking the runner's paw in his own.

"Aye, now, im afraid that your running days are over lad, No more impressing pretty maids with that speed of yours, no ones going to be able to save that leg of yours. But I recon you'll make a fine Corporal."
"You think sah?"

The sergeant gave a smile, and a knowing wink as he gripped the others paw a little tighter.

"Promotions in the bag Bennet, trust old Sarge."
"Well.. I would sah, but your hurting my blinking old paw.... YAAAAH!"

In one swift movement the sergeant let go of the paw, and gripped the runners leg firmly, his other paw snaking around the belt as he pulled it tight with a sharp yank, his other paw keeping the leg pressed down into the sand as the belt tightened up even more to try and slow the loss of blood. The runner thrashed around for several second before slumping back, gasping for breath between clenched teeth and giving the odd moan of pain. Keeping the belt tight picked up an arrow with his other paw, jabbing the tip down into the belt to make a new hole before securing the belt there around the leg. Slowly he drew back both paw, breathing heavily before resting back against the rock, his head tilting a little to look down at the other.

"STOP! Stop it sah! Just cut the blinking thing off! Murder! Help!"
"Sorry boy'o had to keep your mind on other things for a moment, had to patch up that wound to slow the bleeding until we can get you some real help."

The other simply nodded slowly, still drawing in gasps of breath.

"Think of the stories you'll be able to tell all the pretty maids, how you took on three vermin with just a little skirmish sword and got em all, eh?"
"Two... sah"
"Hmmm, looks like three to me you, saying that the sergeants eyes are lying to him."
"No sah..."
"Good lad, you'll have the scars to prove the story too, and old Sarge will be there on your side."
"Heck of a... flippin scar sah."
"Well yes. think of when you is an h'officer though, dashing looking and all that with your medals and cane."

The other gave a slight smile at this, and so did the sergeant before slowly leaning the other forwards and pushing his jacket between the young hare and the rock, his paw coming away clutching a medal that he pinned against the other breast. It was a striped ribbon with a brass wolf's head hanging from it.

"Sergeants is allowed to give medals, and you sure earn't this one lad, make sure you ware it with pride."
"Will do, sah... Sarge?"
"Yes Corporal."

The runner looked confused for moment, before a smile spread across his face and he gave a small chuckle.

"Thank you sah... How come you don't have all that many scars sah?"

The sergeant gave a sad smile, painting to the bloodied bandage around his arm, and the now bloodied foot paw from tripping over the sword blade in the sand.

"Oh I got some lad. got some even bigger ones too."
"Where sah?"
"Ah well, thats an old Sergeants trick lad. Remember me telling you a few seasons back about how a sergeant looks after everyone and makes sure they get home, pretty much keeps the whole army running and all that?"

the other nodded at this before leaning his head back against the stone.

"Well, sadly a sergeant cant always be there to help everyone, we do what we can, but it's never enough. Terrible business all this fighting and killing, but it's our business to keep those that cant fight safe in their beds at night. But here's my little secret lad, dont tell a word to no other beast though?"

The young one nodded his head slowly, blinking against the light.

"Well, I got all these little scars on display to show off how jolly brave I am and all that. But I keep the big ones on the inside, that way you young uns' dont see how how much us and the h'officers are hurting on the outside."

It was silent for a long while, the wind blow about the rock and picked up grains of sand to toss though the air. In the distance there was the occasional sound of steel on steel, or perhaps a scream from a vermin going down. The sergeant looked down as he felt a paw nudge his own, the the young Runner now Corporal gave a squeeze back and a light smile.

"Sorry... About you'r scars sah."
"Dont you fret Bennet, you got bigger things to worry about at the moment."

Over the dunes came three hares running at full speed. Two had a stretcher between them, the third was a pretty young maid, though she did have a bandage about one ear, and a dressing on her cheek.

"Thanks for making sure I get home Sarge."
"Just doing my job Corporal. Though don't be holding this against me when your all grown up and a fancy h'officer."
"Hold what against you sah?"

The sergeants clenched fist came out of no where, landing neatly on the others cheek and sending him off to sleep quicker than a flash. The sergeant pulled himself to his feet as the stretcher bearers came closer, letting the stretcher rest on the sand as they moved to gingerly pick up the wounded hare, careful not to disturb the broken spear in his side, or the crude tourniquet about his leg. The young hare maid came forwards, worry about her features as she looked at the now passed one hare being loaded onto the stretcher.

"Is he Ok sah?! He's not... dead is he?"
"No, no my dear, Bennet's just having a little rest, probably for the best, wont feel too much this way for a while."

She nodded slowly, tears almost making themselves know before she blinked them back.

"He was jolly brave sah, Will he be alright?"
"He was missy, and aye, though he might have a bit of limp one he's all better. Looks like you took a few knicks too."
"Aye sah, right on the cheek and ear!"
"Well it'll give you a dashing swashbuckling look miss, make others know you mean business eh? Now you run along with young Bennet back to the infirmary eh? make sure he's alright. Would do him good to see a friendly face when he wakes up"

The maid gave a nod and slightly shy smile before throwing a smart salute before turning and starting to jog alongside the stretcher as it was carried off before calling back over one shoulder.

"You heading back sah?"
"Will do shortly, got some stuff to attend to first."

He watched quietly as three figures jogged off over the dunes towards the smoke of the camp where already the wounded were being tended to before being carried back to the mountain stronghold. After several minuets he let his gaze wonder over the sand, taking in the corpses of the fallen with a low sigh. With one paw he reached down and picked up his jacket, now a darker shade of red from Bennets blood. He slung it over one shoulder, then rubbed at his eyes with the other slowly before sinking back down to the sand with his back against the rock. He was sure no one would deny him a few minuets rest to rub the sand from his eyes, ghastly stuff making his eyes water.
A sergeants work was never done. But at least he had managed to be sure one would get back home.

Captain Tammo

Glad I took the time to read this one. I think it's a really, really nice story. You don't always need a bunch of fighting and blood to make a good Redwall story. Sometimes a solid drama can take place after all of that's been done. Did these stories all originate from the Redwall LARP? Like were these events that happened in the LARP itself or was it just ideas that popped into your head with the 50 vs. 40 things?
"Cowards die a thousand times, a warrior only dies once. The spirits of all you have slain are watching you, Vilu Daskar, and they will rest in peace now that your time has come. You must die as you have lived, a coward to the last!" -Luke the warrior

Broof

Thank you kindly, im glad you enjoyed it.  They are all ones that cropped up after the event, but featuring characters from the event.  There was enough fic written after the LARP to fill a new book.  It's a shame it was just a one off as everyone involved is keen for more.  a group of us who went are running a little social event on the 13th for characters meeting up at a Long Patrol camp called Camp Cambria, with plans for thee more small events, first one being Winter Social, then Spring, Summer and Autumn.  So if could grow into something bigger in time.

Captain Tammo

Oh cool! That actually reminds me of a similar topic I saw here, which is about getting a bunch of Redwall fans together for something fun.
"Cowards die a thousand times, a warrior only dies once. The spirits of all you have slain are watching you, Vilu Daskar, and they will rest in peace now that your time has come. You must die as you have lived, a coward to the last!" -Luke the warrior

Broof

I guess it's the same sort of concept, this one was just centred solely around role-play, as was the winter feast on the 13th (That had shrimp and hot root soup I might add).  And now we are looking at putting together another "one off" event like the first one as well as smaller ones though the year, Spring, Summer and Autumn.

The Skarzs

Finally got around to reading this.

Well done! This isn't a "traditional" fanfic, but that makes it great. I love the interaction between the corporal and the sergeant; they seemed very natural.

There were a few grammar errors and run-on sentences, and the irregular spacing of paragraphs made me have to look back to figure out exactly who was talking, but it was still very enjoyable.
Cave of Skarzs

Cave potato.