Scouting Out

[Angel-Like Stature]

Granuaile sat beneath a tree beside the road. The mousemaid impatiently tapped her pike against her footpaw as she waited for Keltset to return. What was taking him so long anyway? Surely the fort wasn't that hard to scout around.

As soon as the thought crossed her mind, the otter appeared beside her. Her huge friend sat down next to her and Granuaile looked up at him. Even when they were both seated, Keltset towered over her. "How's it look, mate?"

The mute otter gave her a wide grin and gave her two thumbs up. Further elaboration was not necessary; it was obvious that Keltset had found Fort Emerald Bay to be clear of danger.

Granuaile slapped her paws against her knees decisively and got to her paws. "Alright, Kel. Let's go see about this fort." The pair made an odd sight as they jogged down the road to the fort's large gates. A small mousemaid dressed in an outlandish red outfit keeping pace with a burly otter who was easily two or three times her size. It was irregular, granted, but there were no better friends in all the land.

They slowed to a walk just before they reached the portcullis. Keltset strode forward and rammed a clenched fist against the door several times. Granuaile followed his forceful knock with a shout. "Hallo! Anybeast home?!"

OOC: I'd like a reply, but if no one can get around to it I'll just NPC it by myself.

[Grickle Longcrest]

Grickle strutted along the road whistling a merry tune, his reed javelin held lenghtwise across his slim shoulders. The yellow and black speckled newt was in high spirits because he was once more going to visit the Fort meaning some proper food was soon to be filling his gullet. It wasn't that he was a bad cook it was just when one lived alone as he did one tended to get tired of one's own cooking. And the bakers and various cooks at the fort were excellent.

Grickle chuckled at a memory of his being chased off from one of the baker's stalls in the marketplace. That poor pastry-slinger's face had been so funny contorted in irritation as it had been. Why couldn't beasts understand that the irascible Grickle absolutely adored the smells that waft in kitchens?

With a start Grickle noticed two figures at the gates already nearly missed his step. He recovered and broke into a trot. Now closer he could see that one of them was a small mousemaid with and incredibly garish red outfit which next to the newt's own drab garb looked even more eye-shatteringly bright. As for her companion he was a true giant of an otter absolutely bristling with knives and daggers. Ah fellow hurler, what fun! He came to a halt before the odd pair and gave and artful courtier's bow.

"Pleasant day to ya mates but if I may impose?" He stepped past them and placed himself firmly before the gates. He turned to the pretty little mousemaid and winked rougishly. "Ya won't get them to open them gates if yer to scared to berate 'em."

He turned away from the femme and returned his gaze to the poticullis. He drew a big breath in, expanding his slight chest to its full extent, his many daggers glinting in the sunlight as his big overcoat parted with the breath. "OI! HAIL THE GATES! OPEN UP ALREADY WE AIN'T GETTIN' ANY YOUNGER!"