Whatcha Gonna Do, PL?

[Venril]

Venril gave a wince of almost physical pain upon entering the Rusty Hook as his senses were assailed by a sudden burst of grungy sights, cacophonous sounds and pungent smells.  It was a run down little joint of the type that most other vermin would be familiar with, but Venril had never been in a real tavern before.  

The single room that made up the ground floor was dominated by a wooden bar that was discolored and marred by years of customers carving their names into it or just gouging it with their claws, and the furniture had clearly seen better days, as well.  What bothered the stoat most, however, was the sheer disorderliness of the place.  Vermin of every species, as well as even a few woodlanders, lounged about drinking and carousing, singing bawdy songs and shouting across the room at each other  and the rather fetching, if slightly unkempt, female vermin who were serving drinks.  

The few beasts who weren?t throwing their personal decibels into the din of the tavern were mostly sitting alone looking morose and consuming their drinks rather gloomily.  The place smelled of cheap alcohol, unwashed fur and numerous other dubious things.

Equally unappealing to Venril was what he and his twenty five hordebeasts were here to do.  This had all seemed so simple when Baron Proklyan had explained it to him?

Venril had stood before Baron Proklyan for almost five seconds before he remembered that as a horde captain he was supposed to salute.  ?Venril, reporting for duty, sire!  Uh, Captain Venril.  You promoted me??

?I am not so old that I require your aid to remember who my officers are, Captain Venril.?    Baron Proklyan was a stoat like Venril, compact but muscular.  He had been a renowned warrior in his youth, but was reaching the upper limits of his middle season.  His fur was graying in numerous places, and perhaps there were a few extra pounds on his frame, but overall he had escaped from the pitfalls of easy living enough that he still looked every bit a warlord.  ?Especially when they are promoted from those who have long served me personally.  You will, no doubt, be pleased to learn that I have found a satisfactory replacement clerk, so it seems likely your office will be an indefinite one.?

Venril?s heart sank as the older stoat stabbed a needle through his last hope of averting his fate.  Literate beasts weren?t common in Baron Proklyan?s horde, and every day that the warlord had failed to find a sufficient replacement scribe had extended his hopes that the warlord would come to his senses.  But he couldn?t say that, of course, so instead he said,  ?Thank you very much, my lord.  I?ll be sure to live up to the trust you?ve??

?Yes, I?m sure you will.  Beasts who don?t live up to my trust don?t live very long around here.?  Venril?s ears lowered with his hopes as Proklyan cut him off again.  

?Now, Captain Venril, I believe I have found a suitable first assignment for you.  My family has a longstanding treaty of friendship with Prince Nashald of the Whitestone Islands.  He has recently invoked the treaty to request that I send a force of soldiers to assist him in putting down a woodlander uprising in some newly acquired territory of his.  Therefore, I am ordering you to take your company to assist Prince Nashald.  I have a standing arrangement with one Captain Matukhana, paying him a regular retainer in exchange for his services in transporting my forces and materials where I need them to be.?  Proklyan produced a sealed scroll and handed it to Venril.  ?Give him this.  It should explain everything.?

?Yes, sire, I will, sire.?  Venril was painfully aware of how much he sounded like the stereotype of whimiscally-appointed horde officers who were promoted for appeasing their commanders, but couldn?t think of what else to say.  At least he wasn?t being ordered into combat immediately.  Maybe he?d have time to do some training, some drilling?something to minimize the chance that he would take a spear to the chest the first time he was confronted by an enemy.

Of course, things hadn?t been that easy.  Matukhana did indeed accept Baron Proklyan?s scroll, but instead of just letting Venril board the ship, he had just thrown another problem at the stoat captain, who was already exhausted from the two day hike to the port town.  It seemed that the fox had lost both several crewbeasts and most of his oarslaves to a slave uprising before it had been put down.  Now the fox needed to replenish both his crew and his galley, and expected Venril to help.

?It?s easy, lad,? the fox had said, putting a comradely paw around the stoat?s shoulders.  ?You just go into one o? the taverns, buy everybeast a lil? drink to loosen ?em all up, and then you asks real nice-like if they want to join.  An? if they say no, you buy them another drink.  An? another an? another, and pretty soon either they all say yes or they keel over and you just drag them off.  It?s so easy a woodlander could do it.?  And then the fox had shooed Venril and his hordebeasts away after giving them some coins to buy drinks with and a few corsairs to show them around.  

And that was how Venril the clerk had found himself standing in the middle of this chaotic mess of a tavern with twenty-five hordebeasts he barely knew but was supposed to command.  ?Hello!?  Venril yelled, his thin voice barely carrying over the din of the tavern.  ?Captain Matukhana was looking for anybeasts who wants to join his crew.  We can, uh, get some drinks if anybody wants??

?'Ey lads, take a look at the new barmaid!?  A drunk weasel staggered up to Venril and clapped a paw around his shoulders, dragging the bewildered stoat to his table.   ??E?ll bring us our drinks iffen we just sign up with ?is captain.?  

?Get your paws off me!  I?m a captain in Baron Proklyan?s horde, and if??

?Ooh, the new barmaid?s a captain, too!?  Laughter rang out amongst the beasts at the table and its neighbors, but the rest of the tavern had mostly lost interest by this point.  Venril?s ears burned red as he tried desperately to escape from the weasel?s inebriated grasp.

?LISTEN UP, EVERYBEAST!?  Conversation in the tavern stopped as a ferret hordebeast, the same one who had identified Venril as a clerk and expressed his own desire for a promotion back when Venril had first met his company, jumped up on a table and belted out a shout that carried well over even the songs and arguments of the drinkers.  ?Captain Matukhana?s in town.  He?s had a good haul, and he feels like spreading his luck around a bit.?  

The ferret flung a heavy bag of coins at the rat barkeep, who snatched it out of the air.  ??Keep, that?s for everybody, compliments of Captain Matukhana and Baron Proklyan.?    

A cheer went up and the rat immediately set to work fulfilling the renewed demand for liquor, and the ferret hopped off his table soapbox, walking over to Venril and the weasel.  ?Sorry mate, but we need our captain back.?

Venril breathed a sigh of relief.  ?Thank you for your help, uhh??

?Verand.  And you?re welcome.  But I?m sure you had the whole situation completely under control.  Building a close rapport with the locals and whatnot.?  Venril was not so clueless as to miss the slight smirk behind the ferret?s deadpan assessment of his efforts, but he wasn?t about to try to dress down a hordebeast who had just saved him from disaster.  

?Yes.  Well.?  Venril turned to his company, many of whom were struggling, or outright failing, to wipe the smirks off their faces.  ?Just go around and talk to everybeast.  Buy them more drinks if they run out.  The sooner we get a crew put together, the sooner we can get out of this nas?the sooner we can get on with our mission.?

The hordebeasts didn?t have to be told twice to go carouse, and pretty soon, Venril was alone.  The stoat sighed, feeling rather foolish.  That had been only a hairsbreadth away from an outright debacle.  He decided to go look for someone to recruit on his own, hopefully someone who wasn?t too rowdy.  His eyes were quickly drawn to a burly ferret whose clothing was only partially up to the task of hiding what even Venril could tell was an impressive array of battlescars.  

The ferret was seated next to a younger feline, who appeared to be trying to make some idle conversation, but both cat and mustelid seemed fairly intent on their drinks rather than each other, and neither looked particularly chipper. The cat was a novelty, if for no other reason than his species, but Venril could have sworn he had seen the ferret before.  Better yet, the ferret was clearly far more athletic than most of the other beasts in the tavern.  Maybe if he could recruit this one it would partially make up for him having been so unsuccessful earlier.  The cat did not seem particularly muscular for his species, but even a fairly lightweight feline was nothing to scoff at either.

Walking over to the ferret, Venril plopped down on the opposite side from the cat, who was rummaging around in his pockets for something, and almost asked for a goblet of wine before remembering to order an ale instead.   Getting a better glance at the ferret, it suddenly clicked where he had seen him before, and Venril knew that if he could get this beast to sign on, one way or the other, it would be as good as getting three or four others.

"Hello.  Like I said, I'm Venril, and my beasts are going somewhere with Matukhana's crew, so if either of you need anything else, it's on him."  Venril said, trying to sound comradely.  The feline nodded in acknowledgment but did not seem hugely interested in this offer.

"Thanks for the offer, but I'm not really from around here.  I just stopped in to wait for a bit and see if I can get some new business going."  The cat took another drink from his mug.  "I'm Keane, by the way."

The ferret, if anything, seemed even less interested in what Venril had to say, and seemed fairly intent on his drink, but the stoat was not going to just let the other mustelid ignore him, especially now that he was starting to remember why he looked familiar.

?Hey, I know you!  I?ve been to gladiator ring with Baron Proklyan a few times.  I saw you fight.  You?re?you?re the Whirlwind!?  The awe in Venril?s voice was more genuine than feigned at this point.  ?Let me pay for that.  What are you doing out here?  Are there matches being held here?  You were all really, really good when I saw you??  

Suddenly Venril?s mood was considerably lightened.  He really had enjoyed sitting in the box with Baron Proklyan and watching the gladiator fights.  He had never quite understood why Proklyan had invited him other than to take down bets and record payments and wins and losses, but it had been a rare treat to escape from daily routine and watch the scarred, fit gladiators fight in the ring.  Maybe this press-ganging thing wasn?t so tedious after all.