Northvale Interludes

[Zevka]

Interlude: Northvale

The following post is a collection of Interludes written by the cast of Mossflower Odyssey IV. Each of them follows days in the life of different characters, some new, some known, living within the city of Northvale. We hope you enjoy them.


~*~


Interlude - Renegade Maur - By Aldridge

The customs house stood firm against the bustle and murmur of the dock district. Traffic and trade and the smells of fish fresh and rotting alike all roiled outside the diamond-leaded windows, a deadened murmur crowded out by the muttering of beasts and the scratching of quills.


?That was my husband.?


She thought she had shouted, but the baby barely moved in his sling. The urgency and fury of her voice had been swallowed by the whispers of a hundred paper wings, rustling at their stoops dotted about these polished stone walls. The guardsbeast behind the desk at least had obliged, cringing away from the visible fury of the giant otter, if not the audible.


?Ma?am,? he mustered, drew himself to his full height and still craned his neck up to meet her gaze. ?The Hunter in the Deep is not being regarded as a suspicious loss. There is simply no evidence to support a claim that she was boarded, sunk, or scuttled, and until such evidence is brought to our attention we simply cannot afford to divert attention from more pressing matters - murder, sedition, treason. Northvale is a busy city and the harbour is just as bad. There are shipwrecks, and when there are? very few beasts make it back to shore, ma?am. Do you understand??


She felt the old rumble rise in her chest and clenched her teeth, tamping down on the urge to bellow in his face even as the baby curled up a little tighter against her gravel and her warmth. ?I understand that you do not know the strength of Cloudchaser otters. We are the sea?s children, and we find our way home no matter the tempest. So when I tell you that he is missing, he is missing, and you will hunt for him with due diligence. Do you understand??


He quailed. ?I? Alright. I can record your name and the name of the beast you?re reporting, and I can take your address to contact you in case anything, or anybeast, shows up.?


She scowled at the tiny beast. A ferret, was he? No matter. The baby stirred again as she hunkered down in front of his desk and looked him in the eye. ?My name is Renegade Maur, and I am reporting my husband missing. His name is Ongus, and he has a wife and child to care for.?


The guard hesitated, then as her lip curled in anger he scrabbled for a quill and a small black book labelled Missing Beasts. He leafed through it, adding to the everwhere rustle, until he found the current page and set paw to paper. The scratching of his quill quelled her anger, just a little.


Ongus Maur, he wrote, speaking the words out loud as he did. Reported by his wife Renegade Maur, two days after the Great Rains began, in the fourth year of the Cadogan Mayoralty.


?And your address, ma?am??


She kneeled back, still taller than him by a head or more, and nodded. ?We?ve a houseboat in the Thornsbeck barge-home. The Hallowed Ground. Green roof, red trim.?


He wrote the last few words, and looked up at her. ?Ma?am? I absolutely cannot promise anything. For every beast that survives a shipwreck and every joyful reunion, there are a hundred who do not.?


The rumble rose in her chest again. The baby stayed where he was, already as close and warm as he could be. ?I am aware,? she said. ?Beasts of my kind defy the odds. I will hold out hope for now.?


?...I understand.?


Renegade Maur of the Cloudchaser otters, named for their titanic proportion, stood tall as she exited the customs house. The waves of sound and smell hit her and sank back into her awareness like the beat of sunshine to a desert mouse, or the scent of bark to a red squirrel.


She would return to the houseboat, and prepare a meal, and sit before the three Shrines and beg for her husband?s safe return.


And with luck, Stone, Salt and Storm would oblige.

~*~


Interlude: Shari- By Kali

The windows were left open, letting natural sunlight pour into the otherwise stuffy class room along with the chill of Northvale's rain season. However, even though the students in the half-moon circle room drew their uniforms tighter about themselves, the tutor seemed oblivious to the cold. She stood out in more ways than one, dressed in a pink shawl and wearing a plethora of brass jewelry.


"... and this is how the slave industry was revolutionized by the Arena's appearance in..." Shari stood off to the side of the chalk board and the map of Northvale upon it. It wasn't very detailed, and looked smaller than present Northvale.


"...and that is how the great fire of Oakenwood Inn started. Any questions?" She turned to the class, frowning when she saw their attention diverted elsewhere.


"I don't know, I mean... it could be her."


"If it is, she hasn't lost her figure since the arena..."


The entire class were piled into one spot, desperately trying to peer over the shoulder of a ferret to get a look of the leather-bound tome in his lap.


"Ahem." All heads turned when their tutor coughed politely into her paw. "Yes, yes, I know we are all excited about the upcoming tournament, but such talk can wait until after class."


The students let out a collective yelp before leaping back to their seats. "O-Oh! We were not talking about the tournament Miss Shredder..." The ferret's eyes went wide, "S-Shari! I mean Shari!"


The tutor raised an eyebrow. She was starting to find little difference between teaching dibbuns and university students. "What on earth are you talking about?" She held out her paw towards the ferret.


Looking quite nervous the student shuffled forward to his own doom, not matching the teacher's eye as he handed over his book. A quick flip through the pages revealed drawings of gladiators and a quick paragraph of their history.


Shari could name every one of them.


"Ah, I recognize this book from our library. It's a bit dated though. If you were hoping to see these beasts at the tournament I'm afraid most don't even fight any-"


And then she came to the offending page the students were looking at. Her eyes widened to the sight of a fearsome gladiator, dressed in spiked armor and strangling an opponent with his own tail.


Shredder the Cannibal.


The class gasped. Obviously they had never seen a wolverine blush before.


"Th-that is you, right Miss Shari? Were you really a gladiator?"


"Whaaaaaaaaaaaaat?" It was the wolverines turn to be nervous now, eyes darting about the room. "No! No, I mean... maybe. It was all so long ago I don't remember! And even if I was, what would it matter?"


This caused the ferret to raise an eyebrow, "Really? The Cannibal?"


The wolverines tail stopped twitching. With a groan she began rubbing her eyes, "I bit off one beast's head, just one, alright?"


Collective gasps filled the room along with a flood of questions.


"What was it like to be a gladiator?"


"How many beasts did you kill?"


"Where you ever horribly wounded?"


"Why did you ever leave?"


The wolverine's groan grew only louder. "Students, please. We have more important things to go over today than my misspent youth. Yes, I was a gladiator, but not long enough to become famous. Once I was married me and my husband decided having a parent in mortal danger was no way to raise a child."


"Oh! That's right, you got married to the Dragon, right? He's on the next page," said the ferret.

Shari paused. She turned the page and raised an eyebrow. She had forgotten what her husband looked like in a chain main and a loin cloth?


"Uh, Miss Shari? You are blushing again."


The book snapped shut, causing the students to jump. "Unless you have an actual question about Northvale's history, it is high time to get back to the lesson."


"Has the arena changed since you were a gladiator?"


The wolverine glanced towards a vixen in the corner of the room. Technically the question was about Northvale so she gritted her teeth and answered it. "It's more theatrical these days. Fighters were mercenaries looking for money rather than fame." Shari handed the book back to the ferret before sending him on his way.


"The way we fought was different too," Shari continued. "It's... hard to explain. I was a group opponent. Nire would throw more than one fighter at me. Kind of like how they throw gladiators at the monsters." Shari chuckled at the memory, "But I didn't actually aim to kill beasts. Oh sure, it happened, but no one wants to see their favorite gladiator torn to shreds by a wolverine. It would drive the audience away if I really let loose on a beast. But now..."


Shari shrugged, "Now, I would be a really popular gladiator. The audience doesn't really want to see a fight, they just want to see a gladiator get killed. Does that... make sense?"


"So... as an ex-gladiator, would you say that the FTN has any merit to battling against the arena?"


Silence fell over the classroom as they waited for an answer. The wolverine opened her mouth but no words came out. After a momentary pause she replied, "Well... without the arena bringing in revenue to Northvale, then you wouldn't have a university to learn about their history. Speaking of which, it's time we get back to the lesson..."


The day did not get any easier for Shari. The pictures in the book were a reminder of just how much she had changed. How much her husband had changed. Thoughts about how wild they once were persisted even after class and on her way back home.


That barbarian wolverine of long ago would never imagine herself settling down to a nice comfortable home, or raising a-


"Momma!" The instant Shari opened the door she was assaulted by hugs from her daughter. The little red furred vixen was growing up. Each year the fox was starting to resemble her biological mother in the painting above the fireplace.


"Welcome home!" Came a voice from the dining room, "Come in and get comfortable. I got home early so I started dinner."


"You're cooking tonight? That's one way to stick to your diet." Shari gave her daughter a tight squeeze before sending her on her way.


"Oh har har. Why does everyone keep saying I need to diet?" Drake said as he poked his muzzle around the corner. The beasts embraced, Shari easily lifting the armorer off his feet no matter how jolly he looked these days. "And how was your day, my Sweet?


"It's good, now that I'm home." Shari set her husband down, "An interesting thing happened today. The class brought up the FTN."


The armorer rolled his eyes, "Free the north? Heh, ever wonder what they want to free the north from, our livelihood?? He scoffed, "What did the class want to know?"


"Oh, we were just talking about how the arena has changed since our day. I didn't realize how... different it was back then. They also asked if the FTN had... you know, merit to their argument."


The fox for his part, merely shrugged. "Without the arena I would have never met you after Vivian passed. So it can't be all bad."


"Oh you little charmer." Shari ruffled the fox's head fur. "Come on, let's see how much you burned the woodpigeon this time."


"Hey! I will have you know that charred woodpigeon is a long guarded family recipe!"


Shari only rolled her eyes.


Her husband was right. Sure, the arena had changed since they were there, but it couldn't be all bad, not if it brought the two warriors together.


Right?

~*~


Interlude: Blue - by Thrayjen

?Blue? Blue, girl? DELILAH!?


?What, Pa?!?


?I said you haven?t touched your carrots. Not enough honey? I?ll call the server over if you?re unhappy.?


?The carrots are fine, Pa?? Blue mumbled, staring down at her full plate. A bright silver paw crept into her peripherals and immediately she flicked her fork, slapping Plockette?s paw away from her coveted fried perch. Several patrons in the brightly lit restaurant glanced up as Plockette clapped a paw over his muzzle to politely stifle his yelp.


?Then what?s botherin? you, girl??


From the other side of the table, Blue looked up and eyed her father. Well dressed for dinner, the large ferret was easily twice her size, taller than even her brother, and with a girth that betrayed years of muscle building and years more of good food. His chocolate coat reflected her own, but his single, uncovered eye was steely grey and staring at her with the creased concern of a worried parent.


Sighing heavily, Blue glanced towards her lithe brother and took a long drink from her glass, red wine staining her muzzle. Her claws gripped delicately at the thin neck of the cup, even as she placed the empty vessel back upon the table. A waiter immediately approached and refilled her drink from the bottle on the table.


?It?s the Blackwhiskers,? she said simply.


?Bah!? her brother barked, reaching for the basket of dinner rolls. ?If I had known that greasy rat was actually Prince Thrayjen the Blackwhiskers, I?d have poisoned his ruddy mead, aye.?


Her father considered her for a moment, tilting his chin down to his chest as he regarded her over the rims of his spectacles. He placed the drinks menu back upon the table, folding it up and lining his cutlery over his empty plate.


?What about him??


?I?m worried,? Blue blurted out before she could think. ?The Grand Tournament starts in just a few days, and he?s gone from a reluctant sparring beast only concerned with living another day to this blood-crazed monster that revels in pain. It?s not about the fight anymore, and it?s not about survival. It?s??


?Like he?s a different beast when the Arena welcomes him.?


?It?s like he?s not even there any more, when he puts on his armor,? Blue said desperately. ?He?s the same rat he was when I first met him until Nire calls him up to the Arena. Then he?s?.?


?Then he?s the Blackwhiskers,? her father said, nodding. ?I always suspected it was him. Since his first fight, alongside the Highlander. Looks like his father, aye.?


?Once a crazed inbred royal maroon,? Plockette began, ?Always a crazed inbred royal maroon.?


?Interesting note, his mother wasn?t actually a Greatrat?? Blue?s father mused, trailing off as a server carried a large slice of strawberry and cream pie towards an eagerly awaiting pair of otters.


?He isn?t the Blackwhiskers until he has to be,? Blue insisted. ?When we first met, he was nice.?


?Nice??


?Polite. Sweet. He acted like a gentlebeast. I didn?t think he?d make it through his first week, but? he could fight.?


?Of course he could,? Blue?s father said. ?I trained him when he was just a lad. Just as I trained his father before him, and just as I trained you. Didn?t you say he had a familiar style? And that Moor fellow, too. I can?t believe his hide turned up alive, after all these years.?


Harrogale Khor regarded his daughter deflate, his own pride flittering away as she turned blue eyes towards the polished floors.


?I?m sorry, Blue,? Harrogale apologized quietly, reaching a paw over to squeeze his daughter?s. ?I know you were fond of the stoat. Fact of the matter is, I knew both your boys before they came to the Crater. I knew who they were before I fled Muskroarka, and so I can?t find sympathy for either of them, least of all Currathalla?s boy.?


?That?s just it,? Blue said insistently. ?I don?t think Thrayjen is that beast anymore. But he?s becomin? it again?and it hurts to watch him change.?


An excited squeal from across the dining room stole the ferret family?s attention. The otter whose dessert Harrogale had eyed sprung up from where he had been kneeling on the ground, his new fianc? crying and laughing as she flashed the shiny gold ring now resting on her finger. The entire restaurant burst into applause.


?Well,? Harrogale grunted, shoving his chair back just slightly and resting his now sore paws on his belly. ?Have you considered that perhaps the reason the Crater is bringing out his bad side is that he never had a good one to begin with??


?He lied, remember,? Plockette added. ?Saying his name was just some homage to royalty. He?s quite capable of lying all the time, about everything and anything, especially to a pretty girl.?


?Which is why I don?t want you trainin? alone with him since we found out who he really was,? Harrogale said.


?I?m not a baby, Pa, and I don?t think he?s lyin? about not wantin? to kill anyone,? Blue said sharply, annoyed with her father?s lack of faith. ?He has reason to want a simple, peaceful life.?


?What reason could that be?? Harrogale asked through a boisterous laugh.


Two reasons, Blue thought. Two small, spiky reasons.


?Beasts change,? Blue said simply, shrugging. ?Things happen to them.?


Across from her, Blue?s father sighed and drummed his claws upon the white linen tablecloth. After a moment, he met her eyes.


?What could have happened to him then, to make him change from a bloodthirsty savage to a ?nice? beast??


Blue shrugged again, picking up the drink menu and reading the small, tidy lettering.


?A beast with a secret, then,? Harrogale grumbled, flagging the server with a snap of his claws. Immediately, the weasel maid rushed over and pulled out a stick of charcoal and her note pad.


?Send that poor otter fellow a bottle of plum brandy, for him and his new lady, aye. He?ll need it once he realizes the prison he?s locked himself in!?


The server forced a laugh before thanking the ferret and returning to the heavily decorated bar, stopping only to adjust her whiskers in the mirrored backing before exchanging words with the fox bartender.


?Are you coming to the tournament, Pa?? Plockette asked. When his father shook his head, the silver ferret protested. ?You don?t come around much since you retired. It?ll be excitin? to have you back! I?ll ask Lord Nire if you could sit with him in his box, even; I?m sure he?d love to catch up with the Crater?s first Trainer!?


?I?ve had enough excitement for one lifetime, boy. I retired for a reason,? Harrogale chuckled, thumping a foot down upon the floor. The distinct wooden echo raised a few heads, and a young squirrel sitting with his parents turned with a gasp as he looked from the pages of his history textbook to the large ferret. His grin widened with every second until he turned to his parents and pointed at the ferret, only to be promptly scolded with a quick slap to the offending digit and have his book taken away. Dejected, the young squirrel lowered his head and missed his own mother looking curiously over at the Khor family.


Blue looked from between her father and her brother, a slow, knowing smile spreading across her face. When her mother had died, Harrogale had two children of his own to raise, and the Crater could have orphaned her and Plockette. That was the true reason her father had left the Crater, an open secret she and Plockette kept for him every day.


As if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders, Blue sat back up from slouching over the table and stabbed her fork into a honeyed carrot.


?You can always change your mind,? Blue said to her father. She smiled fondly at him.


Her father excused himself from the table, wiping his paws and moving towards the otter and his fianc?. Watching them thank Harrogale and shake his paw, Plockette leaned over to Blue and whispered very quietly to her.


?Do you really think your rat isn?t the Blackwhiskers anymore? That he?s just playin? for Nire?"


?I think he?s doing what he feels he has to. It?s all a show, brother,? Blue answered. ?That?s what the Crater is. That?s what the gladiators do. It?s all a show.?


?Well,? Plockette muttered, face grave. ?I hope you?re right. Rumour at work says Nire?s going to release his favourite gladiator slave after the tournament, as a prize. I don?t want the Blackwhiskers runnin? around Northvale.?


?That confident in my fighter, eh?? Blue teased with a laugh.


?How do you think I can afford takin? you and Pa out for dinner, aye!? Plockette exclaimed, rubbing his claws together as he pointedly looked around the posh restaurant. Blue kicked him playfully under the table, but Plockette continued as though he hadn?t felt a thing. ?Why, I?ll have to bet a week of wages on him for this meal! Or maybe the Thrasher will put me in the poor house.?


?We?ll see what happens,? Blue said. ?In light of everything that?s been going on at work, I think the Tournament is going to be? interestin?, aye.?

~*~


Interlude: Quin Aroway- by Minerva

"Timmbeerrrrrr!"


The working beasts of the Aroway Lumber Company scattered out of the way as the large oak fell to the forest floor with a deafening crash. Seconds later, when the dust settled, everybeast shouldered their axes and cheered heartily.


"Aye, that's the way to do it, lads!" Quin Aroway, the company leader, called out over the din. The burly hare gave a hearty slap on the back to the closest beast before he stepped forward and inspected the trunk of the massive, downed oak. Young and thick, it was of quality material. No doubt it would impress their clients. "Aye, she's a right, beautiful lass, this one. Grab the ropes and fetch the carts, and maybe we can get her down to the mill in time for lunch."


The workers cheered.


-.-.-


"Twenty. Thirty. Forty. Fifty." The sack of coins jingled in the hedgehog's paw as he counted the money within it, before tying it closed and setting it in front of Quin. "Fifty gold pieces."


Quin raised a brow. "Fifty?" the hare asked. "Mister Maes, the contract you signed said seventy-five."


Maes wiped away a speck of sawdust from his coat. "Yes. And it also said that you would bring me strong, aspen wood. You've brought me oak."


"There isn't such thing as strong aspen," Quin argued. "Aspen is a lady's wood. It's for finishes, or making things look pretty. If you want strong, nothing is better than a good, old oak. If you build that summer cottage of yours with aspen, you're asking for it to be knocked down once the autumn winds begin to pick up."


The hedgehog narrowed his gaze at the hare. "I suppose I could just give you the ten gold service cost and take my business to Northvale Stoneworks. I'm sure stone would stand just fine in the autumn winds."


Quin grimaced. The hare looked to the sack of coins still on the table. Fifty was barely enough to pay for the cost, his employees, and leave any leftover for him. There was no profit to be gained. At best they'd break even.


The hare clenched his teeth. "Fine. I'll take the fifty."


"A wise decision, Mister Aroway. It's been a pleasure doing business with you."


"Aye... a pleasure."


-.-.-


"Bloody, uppity, greedy..." Quin stopped himself with a scowl as he strode through the lumber yard with the coin purse dangling at his waist. Around him, his employees were hard at work cutting and carving the massive oaks they acquired into sizable planks, oblivious at the lack of money that they were paid. No doubt they would be disheartened.


Quin looked towards the sky, where grey clouds were beginning to touch on the horizon. Bad

weather was supposed to come soon. He hoped it rained on Mister Maes' coat.


"Excuse me."


In surprise, Quin turned and looked towards the beast who called. It was a young squirrel wearing the uniform of a purser. As the beast approached, Quin noticed the T embroidered in golden thread on his black vest.


The squirrel huffed to catch his breath, before standing straight and tall. "Excuse me, sir, your workers pointed me in this direction. You're Quin Aroway? You're in charge of the Aroway Lumber Company, yes? My employer, Blasio Timberfell, has a job offer for you, if you're

interested."


Quin gritted his teeth. Blasio Timberfell was another uppity, rich beast like Maes, and no doubt just as greedy. The light sack of coins jingled at his waist in reminder, and the hare sighed as he looked around at his workers. "What's the job?"


The squirrel produced a scroll from the bandolier on his belt and unfurled it, turning it to present it to the hare. As Quin's eyes darted over the words, Timberfell's messenger spoke with simple instructions. "The dam should be large enough to cover the mouth of the Northvale Tributary."


Quin read the specifications on the scroll and furrowed his brow. "A dam like this wouldn't last very long."


"No, it needs only to stand for as long as the Crater holds its upcoming Grand Tournament. With the tributary dammed, the Northvale river will rise and allow easier access for larger ships to port and new visitors to attend. When the tournament is complete, you will break it down."

Quin's eyes fell upon the three stamped insignias where Northvale Mayor Cadogan, the Crater, and Blasio Timberfell had all approved of the plan.


Then he nearly choked when he saw the pay.


"This much!?" he nearly shouted in glee.


"Yes, and you'll be paid in advance," the squirrel said, holding out to him a massive sack of

coins. "Do we have a deal, Mister Aroway?"


"Aye. We've got a deal."


Maybe Blasio Timberfell wasn't so bad after all.

~*~


Interlude: Frey - by Kentrith

Frey planted her footpaws on the street, both paws propped on her hips. The platform at the end of the square had been decorated in colors that made her salivate, but the subject matter of the banners caused her blood to boil. She glared up at the herald that ascended the stage as the prissy rat spread open an ornate scroll, sniffing haughtily before reading from it.


?By decree of the Lord of the Crater, Nire the Gallant, Prosperous and Revered??


?By ?oo, the big fathead!?


The rat stiffened in indignation, as the crowd around them shuffled anxiously. Frey briefly considered smacking Murbilee in the head with a reminder to behave, then shrugged the thought away. It never helped her behavior, and often worsened it.


Several voices hissed out behind her, the rest of her crew rounding on the heckler as the rat gathered himself and continued, ?Due to recent events and the traitorous acts of those labeling themselves as Freedom Fighters, Nire has benevolently decided to give the traitors one final chance to prove themselves loyal to him, in a Grand Tourney! His ability to lead has influenced him to offer this generous chance??


?Leadership! He?s scared stiff, more like!?


Frey rounded on the shrew this time, grabbing her shirt and yanking her close. Before she could berate Murbilee, however, someone else shouted, ?Aye, this isn?t a chance to prove loyalty! It?s an execution!?


?How does he know who?s a rebel or not?? came from elsewhere in the crowd.


?His blue-backs broke into my sister?s house, and carried off her husband!?


?We?ve given him nothing but support, and this is how he repays us??


Shouts came from all sides now, and Frey glanced around her, realizing that a mob was growing. As much fun as that sounded, the Guosim had other things to do.


She turned and dragged the spiteful, spitting shrew after her, snagging another on her way through the press of roused beasts. The rest of the shrews straggled after her reluctantly.


?Why did we leave?? Fenner asked waspishly when they stopped in a side alley.


?Aye!? Murbilee grumbled. ?It was just gettin? excitin?!?


??Cause we?ve got a job to do!? Frey snapped at them, glaring around her.


??Tisn?t as though we can?t have a bit of fun,? growled another shrew.


??S all fun and games ?til summun loses a paw!?


?Enough,? Frey barked before the bickering could get any worse. ?We gotter meet up with the youngun, at the herb place.?


She glanced toward the open market, where the shouts had turned into a dull roar. ??S not as if we could get through that t? the Crater anyhow. We?ll just have to wait til Kent can come to us.?


She ushered her quarreling companions ahead of her, sending worried glances at the mob that raged behind them.

~*~


Interlude: Vinny- By Komi

A weasel, a rat, a hare, and two mice sat on the rim of a fountain in Northvale?s west side. One mouse had a flier with the Grand Tournament announcements on it.


?See,? the mouse said. ?Not a thing says that the Monster?s gonna be fighting.?


The rat slouched, crossing arms over his chest. ?Aw, she?s my favorite. Wonder why Nire?s not letting her fight in the Tourney. All the other names are there. Coward, Blackwhiskers, Thrasher, Banshee...?


?Could be hurt or sick?? the mouse offered.


?I guess.?


?Who you wanna see?? the weasel asked the mouse with the flier.


?I wanna see the Coward again. She?s fighting this time.?


The hare scoffed, ?Coward ain?t got a good fight in since that scorpion one.?


The young beasts all laughed. ?Yeah, that thing with the Lowlander don?t count, eh?? The weasel made loud, sloppy kissing noises, which brought about more laughter.


The rat leaned in. ?You hear about that one? The Lowlander? They say somebeast murdered him. Poison.?


?Somebeast get back at him for killing the Highlander?? the hare asked.


?Dunno. Mum said there were blue-backs and town guards checking some of the inns around town, though, so maybe they?re looking for his murderer.?


The other mouse twitched his nose. ?It?s a shame. The Blackwhiskers is out another partner.?


?Yeah, if you want a good fight, the Blackwhiskers is the one to watch.?


?My mum says the Crane was better, in his day. Wonder if he?ll do any more fights.?


?Excuse me,? a voice said to one side.


A young stoat stood with a shrew near the fountain. Both beasts looked damp, as if they?d been washing up in the fountain.


The stoat said, ?Sorry, but I was listening to you all. New to town, you see. This all have to do with the big Crater over yonder?? He waved a paw in the direction of the arena on the edge of town.


?Yeah, there?s going to be a big tournament in a couple days. A Grand Tourney, Nire Borean says. It?s gonna be great. Fights to the death all day!?


The two newcomers looked at each other with wide eyes. ?May I?? the stoat asked, gesturing at the flier.


The mouse handed it over.


The stoat read it, the corners of his mouth tightening slightly, then he handed the paper back. ?Thanks.? He turned on his heel, and walked away quickly. His shrew companion glanced once at the youngsters by the fountain, then turned to run after him. The group?s conversation quickly turned back to the upcoming tournament.


The shrew caught up with the stoat after half a block. ?What got yer tail in a twist, mate?? she asked.


?I?ve got to get in that Crater.?


?Not ?til we catch up with the fox, ya ain?t. Frey?d have my tail if I let ya go runnin? off on yer own.?


The stoat sighed. ?I?m not stupid.?


?That ain?t what Frey says.?


The stoat glared at her and adjusted the long, narrow bundle slung over one shoulder. ?After what I just did, you think they?d give me a little more trust.?


?Ain?t a matter o? trust, Vinny,? she said, skirting around a baker?s cart. ?It?s cause yer heart?s all tied up where yer head oughtta be. We all know it.?


"Then let's find this herb shop so Frey leaves our tails intact. The sooner we get in that Crater, the better.?