| Subject: Now 'tis the part where me pers'nal favourite character comes in. |
Author:
Log-a-log Rigg
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Date Posted: 22:04:41 04/05/04 Mon
In reply to:
Log-a-log Rigg
's message, "**An old shrew sits by the fireside.**" on 13:19:01 03/28/04 Sun
The Autumun of the Beastless Boat
Dodge had taken control effeciantly. With Singe the troublemaker out of his way, and nobeast to lead them, the crew accepted him willingly, aided by Pinky and Nakrobi. Pinky was quickly promoted to first mate, while Nakrobi held the spot of second mate. While beached near a stream on the southern shores, Dodge renamed his ship the Briny Bruiser. He didn't like the idea of sailing in something named Fishbait. (Seriously, would you?)
Dodge sailed the waters, plundering the ships of goodbeasts and other pirates, sinking the ships, and sometimes adding to his crew. But one solid rule the weasel had created: no stoats. He thought of them now as rabblerousers and no good to have on board. Any and all stoats were put to death; drowned or some other creatively cruel way the corsairs would think up. The crew of the Briny Bruiser soon grew rich with loot under the leadership of Dodge.
It was as they were sailing in the waters of the southwest did something strange and disturbing happen. Pinky had spotted a ship adrift in the distance. Dodge set about that way, figuring it had lost its rudder and would be easy prey. But a surprise awaited when they reached it.
Dodge hopped aboard the ship, whirling a shell-loaded sling in one paw and his bolas in the other. He sent the shell crashing through the window of the cabin, roaring. "Show yerselves, ye cringin' cowards!" There was no answer. Pinky clambored aboard and took his place by the captain's side. "Where d'you think they went?" Dodge began to get an uneasy feeling in his stomach, but pushed it aside. "Probably shakin' in their quarters by now, you'll see. Get the rest o' the crew an' we'll route 'em out."
Soon the whole ship was being searched. There was no sign of a living soul. All they did find were two deadbeasts; a searat and a female stoat, both starved. These Dodge had cast over the side. The weasel poked around the main cabin, looking for trinkets to take, but there seemed to be nothing there. "Pah, so, 'tis a ghost ship. Crew starved t'death, nobeast 'ere, an' seaphantoms plundered the place already." The weasel jumped at a creaking sound, but it was only Nakrobi.
The old searat glanced about and shuddered. "Ain't nothin' here, Cap'n. No food, no grog, an' no valubals. Now what?" Dodge shrugged. "Best just burn this stinkin' tub an' sail on." Nakrobi shook his head. Most all of the pirates were supersticious, including him and Dodge. "Nay, best to leave it driftin'. Let the seaphantoms take it when they will. It'd be bad luck t'just burn it." Dodge nodded and turned to go. "May'aps you're right, Nak. Best round up the crew an' get back t'the ship."
Nakrobi left, and Dodge was about to follow when he heard a chewing sound. The fur rising on the nape of his neck, the vermin turned and scanned the cabin. Not a sign of anybeast. Was it the ghost of the ship? Or was it the sea phantoms, preying on the bones of the wretched dead crewmembers? Dodge was perfectly prepared to run for his life when a little beast crawled out from behind a desk. It was a dark brown stoatbabe, thin and raggley, knawing on the meatless bone of some longdead, longbeencooked seabird.
At first Dodge thought it a ghost. The little stoat was pale and thin, with big, hungry eyes. Then it grinned and toddled over to the weasel corsair and began patting his pockets, looking for food. The touch of warm paws sent releif through Dodge. "Ahoy now, where'd you come from? Sailin' solo, I see." The stoatbabe looked up at him, frowning and sticking out his paws. "Feedme!" Dodge narrowed his eyes at the little creature. "Or else you'll..." The small stoat flung his skinny arms around his leg and clung on tightly, then started gnawing on the hem of his tunic. "Stay 'ere! Arrr!"
Dodge tried to shake the stoatbabe off his leg, but it had an amazingly strong grip for one so young and sticklike. The weasel scowled at him and dragged him on deck. "Blasted liddle nipper! Arh, a'right, I'll feed ye, but after that you 'ave t'stay out o' me fur." The stoatbabe scaled Dodge and perched on his shoulder until they got to the Briny Bruiser.
Pinky eyed the little one, surprised. "Where'd that thing come from?" Dodge shrugged as he tried to disentangle the babe from his back. "Found it on the ghost ship. It won't let go o' me!" Pinky plucked the stoat off his captain and held it at arms length. "Well what d'you think yore gonna do with it?" The stoatbabe wriggled in his grasp, baring his little teeth and snarling. "Feedme!" Dodge looked at Pinky. "Go on, you 'eard it. Take it t'Truvva, or Nakrobi, get vittles like it said." Dodge left Pinky with the wild little stoat, gone to sail the ship away from the empty boat of bad luck.
Dodge took a peek in the galley to find Nakrobi looking after the orphan. The old searat threw up his paws in despair. "Arr, cap'n, ye sure that ain't no sea phantom? Bitin' an' scratchin' all the way down 'ere, then it tried t'eat the table. Now 'e's stuffin' 'imself fast enough t'kill 'imself. Eat'n too much after starvin' can be the death o' a beast." Dodge shrugged. "Ah, let 'im be. He'll like as not end up bein' sick all over the place, but that'll be all. It looks a strong liddle tyke t'me."
The stoatbabe looked up and grinned feindishly through the porridge caked on his face. Dodge glanced at him curiously. "Now, listen up, you liddle wretch. Where'd ye come from? What 'appened on that ship?" The small creature continued eating, babbling through mouthfuls. "Comed froma ship, acourse. Alla beasties go 'way; Ma an' Kij cook 'em up. Den bofa dem go sleepy, no wakey up, an' me do what me likes. Weren't no food dough." The weasel seemed nonchalent, but he shuddered inwardly. "Huh, resorted to cannibal'sm? Weaklins! Hoi, you got a name?"
The stoat had finished his porridge, and now he lay back on the tabletop and belched. "Urp! Nono gotta name. You gotta name?" "What beast don't 'ave a name? No wunner that ship's crew gone starved. Aye, me name's Dodge Spiketail." The little creature crawled over to Dodge and took his paw, rubbing it against his sallow cheek. "Arr, Dodge! Me like you lotsa. I got a name too, I made it now. Wanna hear it?" Spiketail tried to pull his paw away, feeling uncomfortable. "Whatever, long as ye let go o' me paw." "Me name be Didge Spiketail! Nice name, huh? Ho uummm!"
Didge snuggled down on the table and began snoring uproarously. Dodge took a step back, feeling his fur prickle as he muttered. "Er, ahem, aye, you do that." Nakrobi sniggered. "I reckon he gone done took a likin' to ye." Dodge glared at him, keeping his voice low. "Shuttup, fool! Tis just a sniveling liddle brat, still wet be'ind the ears." Nakrobi held up his paws. "A'right, a'right. But it'd do good t'keep that'n. Did y'hear, he said he came from the ship. 'E mighta been born on the seas, or at least lived most o' his short life on it. A beast like that'd make a mighty fine sailor." Dodge glanced at the sleeping stoat. "Aye, but 'e's a, a stoat." "Pah, only a liddle 'un! An' why would 'e be any trouble? Like I said afore, an' I don't mean anything by it, e's taken a likin' to ye."
Dodge pursed his lips and sighed. "Arr, well, long as 'e's brought up loyal an' not overambitious, then so be it." Nakrobi nodded once and left. Dodge gazed at the sleeping Didge, doubts still swirling through his mind. If he did take this stoat in, would he end up with the perfect crewbeast, or with a knife between his ribs? Didge was young yet. What trouble could he possibly stir up? Dodge flicked a clump of porridge from the stoatbabe's smock and headed for the deck. He would have no worries for now.
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