Redwall Abbey

Hello everyone! If you wish to join or see the general overview please check here;
http://redwallabbey.com/forum/index.php?topic=11304.0

But we are happy to have more Crewbeasts or Woodland/Coast Residents to greet the Pirates and Corsairs :>

----------------------

Tulian
Clinging to driftwood
Approaching shore

Its good to have a plan in case of evacuation. Even having practiced it a few times with roles and everything. But when the fires are raging and you are trying to pull your bleeding shipmate out of the clutches of some snarling Fox plans tend to go out of the window.

At least the brush ship had been ignited as well?

Not that it mattered much in the end. A Pyrrhic victory as both vessels were lost now. Sizzling in the ocean and collapsing if they had not already broken down. A certain rat struggling to even remember who had ordered the attack first. Had the foxes swooped down to try and steal loot or slaves? Or had the rats snuck up on the celebrating foxes and stole an attack on them? Feebly spitting out water Tul opened his eyes enough to see that his claws were still stuck in the wood he was clinging too before he returned to the stupor of exhaustion.

He was supposed to get on the jollyboat with the Captain. But in the screaming and fire he had been grabbed as he tried to enter and thrown over the side by a larger crew rat. Floundering and trying to swim after the small boats as they rowed to get away from the blazes. But they were long gone. It was all the rat could do to swim and kick as hard as he could to escape the sucking of the water as the vessels listed and started to sink. He knew several were not as lucky as he. Stuck in rigging or pulled into the cavity. His shivering had been done already though.

It was a shame that he could not keep his eyes open as he would have seen that the shore was approaching. The gentle waves carrying him as well as other flotsam was carried toward the shore. It would have given him hope that he would live. Until he spotted the smaller transport boats already almost there. Hopefully they would be from his ship!

(Up to you others if you wish to have the landing point be near Salmandrastron or we all just landed somewhere on the Mossflower Coast :D.)

Captain Mharbrow glared at his reflection, the annoyance radiating from him openly.

Things had been going so well: The village they'd raided to stock up on provisions had turned out to be wealthier than he'd estimated and he'd been well rewarded for his efforts. True, he'd lost two or three rats while he was storming the gates but, on the whole, it had gone perfectly according to plan.
The ship was loaded with fresh food, gathered weapons of the defenders and a solid oak chest, its lock rusted and flimsy. It had been the work of a moment to break it open and the contents were well worth his hard work and planning. Jeweled beakers, precious stones and, best of all, a beautiful longsword, thoroughly decorated and razor sharp. Mharbrow had buckled it on and felt its weight, well balanced, though not perfect.
They'd sailed away, further enough to be safe from pursuit of the few surviving beasts they'd left behind. Then they'd broken the wine casks and begun to celebrate their victory, laughing with each other over the events of the battle.
Early on in their victory feast, one of the beasts on watch had called out the news of an approaching ship. Everybeast immediately got ready for battle, despite my suggestions that we not engage. The majority vote was to fight though so I got ready also. The other ship clearly had inferior fighters anyhow so it couldn't do too much harm, even if Bladewave's crew were a bit tipsy.
Everything seemed to blur together after that and Mharbrow now found himself in the skiff with only a few crewbeasts around him, the image of his favourite ship on fire flashing before his eyes like some phantom. He'd newly acquired sword had sunk to the bottom of the ocean inside some rat's chest and most of his crew had been killed.
Keelteeth.
The name of the ship who'd caused all the trouble stirred in his memory as he changed the direction of his gaze to the other skiff on the waves. He'd kill every one of the other ships crew, and he'd draw their deaths out as slowly as possible. It would serve them right for what they'd done.

Firestripe ignored the cold waters worming their way through his thick fur as he and two other vermin, a ferret and another fox, slowly made their way to shore using a large piece of flotsam as cover.  He'd been one of the few sober beasts on the Bladewave when the other ship had been spotted, and he'd been one of the few beasts to board the Keelteeth during the chaos of battle.  His plan had been simple: slay the enemy captain.  He knew very well how fast a crew could fall apart once their leader was dead, and he knew that his own crew was at a disadvantage in the battle.  To him, it had been the only logical choice.  What he hadn't taken into account was how much damage the two captains were willing to let their vessels take during the course of the fight.  Near the end, as everything literally began to fall apart, he'd grabbed the two surviving crew beasts that had boarded with him and jumped into the dark waters. 

Now, they slowly made their way to shore, stealthily following the jollyboat that the Keelteeth's captain rode in.  The ferret with him whispered, "Are ya sure dis is a good idea, Firestripe?"

Firestripe gave him a sidelong glance. "There's nothing good about this at all mate, but it's the best idea given the situation." 

The ferret was about to say more when Firestripe quickly held up a paw for silence.  A ways to their right he spotted the figure of an un-moving rat loosely draped across some floating wood.  It looked to be dead, but it was better to be careful; it was imperative that he and the two vermin with him remain undetected.  Firestripe could almost feel the hate-filled looks he was sure his captain was throwing towards the enemies from his skiff; there was sure to be a bloodbath once they reached land.  Because he was sure that this turn of events would occur, his plan was to follow the enemy boat to shore and catch them in a pincer attack once the fighting started.  This, of course, relied heavily on not being noticed. 

Quickly and quietly, they trailed after the Keelteeth's crew.

Tulian
Clinging to driftwood
Washing up.

Barely able to feel his soaked through footpaws touching the sand with Keelteeths navigator could barely bring his chin up to see that he was now looking at sand. Twitching his claws that were stuck into the water logged wood as he made a tiny woo. Before slumping forward again. Sleep is what he needed after that ordeal. Give him the energy he needed to actually rise from the cold sea. Get his claws out of the wood and into some food. Take stock of everything. Survive.

That was the goal at least. But a wave shoving against his back made him groan and work on rolling himself over. His claws scloping out of the wood on his left before he tried the other side. And then painfully crawling over his life saving chunk of wood to be at least slightly above the tide line. Patting around his belt as he nodded to the sand. He still had most of his stuff. And he was out of the sea. Finally smiling the rat would flop over onto his back. Looking up at the warm sun that started to dry him off. The quiet calls of gulls a slight warning but at least he was ashore and alive. The rat sighing contendidly as he lay on his back on the sand. Baely able to hear anything as he tilted his head back to let his ears slightly sink into the sand to help warm them up.

Mharbrow finally pulled his eyes away from his enemies, turning to assess the remainder of his crew. Belladonna was with him, along with several rats, a couple of weasels and a ferret. He guessed that others would have clung to pieces of driftwood and headed for shore, but they might not catch up until the action had subsided, if at all.
Nine in all, counting himself. Not a full crew, by any means, but enough to manage, provided they didn't hit too much trouble. Thank Fate they had landed this far from Salamandastron. Two days' march was a bit too close for comfort as it was, any closer would likely be fatal. Those infamous badger lords didn't exactly have a soft spot for corsairs.
Mharbrow gave a cunning smile as his gaze fell upon Belladonna, sitting calmly on the bow post and watching the nearing coastline. Nothing seemed to worry the red fox and Mharbrow was glad she was on board. She could be very persuasive and he might find need of her skills. Conditions weren't great and tempers had the habit of flaring at the wrong time. He didn't have the numbers to be able to end arguments with his usual... methods. Yes, Belladonna was a useful beast to have aboard, especially when it came to a fight. She wielded her katana with surprising efficiency and had the skills to help the wounded as well, plus she knew some things which he needed to discuss from time to time but couldn't reveal to uninvolved parties.
Mharbrow stood and made his way forward, silently crouching beside the other fox, eyeing the ever-approaching shore for the best place to land.
He extended his paw to the right slightly and gestured to an outcrop of rocks.
"There."
The two weasels, who were rowing, saw his outstretched paw and changed direction, heading for the outcrop.
Mharbrow smiled, genuinely this time. He appreciated it when his crew did what he wanted them to do without having to be told the details. He had trained them well.

Belladonna glanced sideways as her captain crouched beside her. His keen eyes scanned the shore and the vixen swept her gaze over the remainder of Waveblade's crew. Firestripe was missing, she saw. She wondered briefly if he had survived, then shook the thought aside. There were more pressing matters at paw.

Mharbrow jumped into the water as he felt the prow of the skiff scrape sand, pulling the small craft up onto shore, helped by two of the rats, who'd also jumped out to bring the boat ashore.
The other beasts all disembarked and they dragged the boat well above the tideline and behind the cover of the large rocks so it would be less noticeable. Glancing at his severely depleted crew, Mharbrow noted they all had some form of weapon. The ones who'd made it to the skiff were the ones who'd been on the sidelines of the fight so they weren't too exhausted either.
Mharbrow grinned savagely at his crew, jerking a paw down the beach at the other skiff which had just landed, its crew too exhausted to even get out and pull their vessel ashore. They would be easy to finish off. Perhaps too easy, even.
"Right, get some rest. We'll give them what for tonight, probably just before dark. Make sure weapons are ready and sharp. We might take prisoners so bring some rope. Webneck, you take first watch. Look out for any other beasts that land ashore clutching bits of driftwood and alert me, but stay hidden. The rest of you, do whatever you have to, as long as it's quiet. We don't want to attract attention."
His orders given, the Phantom Painted one settled down and started scheming. The crew of Keelteeth would wish they'd died as babes by the time he'd finished with them.

Even with the waves lapping at his prone figure, Firestripe was grateful as he finally felt sand beneath him.  Still using a large piece of flotsam as cover, he and the other two had followed the enemy skiff to shore, circling a ways around to the side the Bladewave skiff had not landed on so they could pincer the Keelteeth's crew.  He signaled to the others to stay prone; they were a fair distance away from the skiff, but he wanted to be sure that they wouldn't be spotted by anybeast when they moved across the beach.  After examining their surroundings for a few minutes, he gave the signal when he was sure nobeast would see them and the three sprinted low across the sand and into the cover of nearby foliage.  His bad leg ached from all the action from earlier followed by a long distance swim topped with a sprint to the finish line, but he pushed the pain it out of his mind as he watched the Keelteeth's crew.  They hadn't fared well, that was for sure; everybeast seemed completely worn out.  Smiling to himself, he turned to the fox and ferret that had followed him and spoke in a low whisper.

"This might be easier than I thought, mates.  Rangfur," he said, gesturing to the fox, "I want you to sneak around to where our crew is and let Cap' Mharbrow know that we're here, ready to pincer if he plans to attack.  Come back after that; we'll be keeping watch from here."  Normally he wouldn't risk sending somebeast out in this situation, but Rangfur happened to be pretty good at sneaking.  Plus, with the shape the enemy crew was in, he doubted they'd be able to spot him even if he ran out in the open while singing.

"Cap'n Dyemhar, three beasts just landed on the beach."

Mharbrow stood up and climbed up to Webneck's vantage point, following his outstretched paw to where the last of three beasts was vanishing behind some shrubbery, casting a quick glance over the beach before he went to ground.
Mharbrow grunted and kept watching, seeing small amounts of movement as the creatures presumably struggled into more comfortable positions.
"Good work. Keep me posted if anything changes and keep looking out for other beasts drifting ashore."
Mharbrow turned and climbed down, then stopped as Webneck's voice reported further details.

"Cap'n Dyemhar, one of the beasts has broken cover. He's heading toward us, skirting Keelteeth's boat. I think he's coming to us."

Mharbrow sighed and drew his twin blades with a hiss of steel on leather.
"I see. Come down and ready your weapons. We'll leave the other beasts asleep. We should be able to take care of one beast."
Webneck obeyed and Mharbrow positioned him behind a smaller rock, while he stood ready in the open.
"When the beast appears, don't kill him. He may be one of our own."
The weasel nodded silently and they waited.

Startling awake from his sun warmed nap Tulian sat up quickly at a rough scream from further up the beach.

"Keeneye! You dead mate?!"

Shifting around enough on his sore limbs to face the large rat Captain looking down at him swinging his mace idly in the other hand the navigator shook his head.

"N...nay Cap'n! Wus jas' uhh...rast'n!"

The larger rat eye rolled before he pointed up the beach toward some tall dunes. "Well go do something useful! Go figure out where we are and report back! Others are already looking for food and useful scrap to use and seeing of those paint tails landed here or elsewhere. I want their tails carved from their corpses and made into a lovely cloak for what they did to my ship!"

A few other crew beats were near the captain as Tulian nodded and hauled himself off. Half limping as he got the feeling back into his legs. "A'e a'e Cap'n!" He responded with a wobbly salute as he started to walk off toward the high dune. He did know a lot of land marks. So if he managed to get up there and see the big ol mountain he would be able to tell the marooned Pirates just how totally screwed they were! How fun!

(Feel free to meet up with him along the way seperate from his crew, either as a Fox to hold him at weapon point or a friendly ships doctor :D)

Mharbrow grabbed the beast by the collar as it came round to his side of the rocks, then quickly released the fox as he recognised him, giving the still damp creature a rough scan to assess his well being.
"Rangfur. I'm glad you survived the fight. Who else is alive and why didn't they come with you?
Webneck, get back on watch."
The weasel climbed to his former position as Rangfur reported, still listening to the conversation.

"Cap'n Dyemhar. Firestripe an' Cutsnip came ashore with me an' are 'idin' in those there bushes. Firestripe is stayin' where 'e is in case you wanna attack Keelteeth's crew, or what remains of it. 'e thought we could trap 'em in a pincer movement."

"Cap'n, a rat just stood up an' is heading for that big dune. He's one of Keelteeth's."

Mharbrow frowned thoughtfully at the news from both his crewbeasts, his lips pursed into a savage grin.
"Ah, good. You'll have to stay with us, Rangfur. The element of surprise is too valuable to risk by sending you back to Firestripe. As soon as we start fighting, take Baretail and Grunt and support him. Until then, he'll have to manage on his own. Webneck, watch the rat and, when he gets to the bottom, tell me and Tornpatch. I assume Firestripe and Cutsnip have weapons?"

(OOC) What is the situation with weapons and such, Kade? Are Firestripe and Cutsnip ready to fight? (taking into consideration their energy levels too)

"What's the situation?" Belladonna asked softly, brushing her tail against the captain's footpaw to gain his attention without the others noticing. She had approached in time to hear what Mharbrow had said to the other fox, but had missed all other information. From what the vixen had heard, Firestripe was alive, somebeast was sneaking up on their position, and Captain Dyemhar was planning an attack.

The sun was shining, the waves slapped sleepily up to the shore, Chiptooth had been sent to hunt some food with two other vermin.
"'ey Chip and Skut get over 'ere"
Not again! Chiptooth thought, This was the third time Flatnose had called him over to "see" something.
"What is it this time?!" He asked in an irritated voice.
"this bet'er be a good'un, not another crab or someth'n!" Skutlip growled.
"'ey, you're not-"
"Just get on with it!" Chiptooth snapped, clearly frustrated.
"Er... well" Flatnose stuttered "erm ther's a stream up that hill, yonder" he stuttered again "it'll 'ave fish in it" he looked at his ship mates who were staring at him as if he had just said that there was ship on his head "what stream?" Skutlip  said half to him self.
"and what hill? Stop playing triks on us ya pig headed buffoon!?" Chiptooth snarled.
"over there" the now very upset ferret screeched, pointing to a large bramble bush.
that was one mad ferret, the heat is getting to 'im!
"Hoi! their be a fox yonder 'ahind that there rock!"
"yore just seeing things mate, there ain't no fox, just ye'r mind." Skutlip said firmly.

Mharbrow spoke quietly to Belladonna as the other beasts hurried to obey his orders.
"Firestripe and Cutsnip are waiting behind some rocks on the other side of Keelteeth's crew. One of the enemy's rats is heading up that dune alone.
"Listen, when we start fighting, I want you to try and disable as many of the Keelteeth crewbeasts as possible, but don't kill them. Make sure they're well secured."

"Cap'n Dyemhar, a weasel just made land on our side of the rocks. He's spotted us and is heading our way."

Marbrow assessed the approaching beast and gave a grim smile of recognition. He was one if his crew and would prove useful in the fight to come.

"Cap'n Dyemhar, three enemy beasts have headed off, away from the rest of the group."

Mharbrow considered this information for a while, then called softly to the weasel.
"How many are left with Keelteeth's captain?"

"Er... about four, Cap'n, including him. They look a bit shabby and exhausted."

Mharbrow smiled thinly, his mind working quickly as it sorted out what was going to happen. He knew just the punishment he'd give these beasts. That captain was a fool for separating the remainder of his crew.
"Belladonna, take Grunt, Baretail and Fanggrin. Catch those three beasts and bring them back here, preferably unconscious. Rangfur, you take the rat twins. Tornpatch, go get that rat climbing the sand dune. You can take Sliteye when he finally gets here. I want as many of the enemy as possible alive. Wait for my signal. Webneck, come with me."

Webneck hurried down from his position and followed Mharbrow, copying his captain's smooth movements as they both slid, unnoticed, across the sand.


(OOC) Just so you know, Webnech and Tornpatch are weasels, Cutsnip and Fanggrin are ferrets. Grunt and Baretail are rats.

  Belladonna grabbed a coil of light sail rope and slid away, followed by Grunt, Baretail, and Fanggrin. She circled round behind the three foraging beasts and paused behind a bramble bush to listen. One of the three, a ferret, had spotted Rangfur, but the others didn't believe his claim and were trying to convince him that he was seeing things.
  The vixen signaled to her companions that they should knock the ferret and the sea rat out while she took care of the mink. They nodded and she held up her paw, three claws raised. One by one she folded them down, whispering to herself as she did so.
  "Three, two, one. Go!"
  Belladonna leaped forward, dagger in paw, and landed on the mink's back, knocking him to the ground. She held the blade to his throat and hissed at him.
  "Move and you're a deadbeast!"
  She looked up and bared her teeth in triumph when she saw Baretail and Fanggrin tying the paws of the now unconscious ferret and sea rat. Grunt sitting on the ground, holding his upper leg. Apparently the rat had managed to cut at him with a knife before Baretail thumped him on the head.

Unfortunately unaware of the peril the medical mink was in Tulian was huffing and puffing as he worked on ascending the dune. Easily able to be seen from pretty much everywhere on the crash site that was the beach as he slowly got higher and higher. At least moving around in the warm sand was helping to get the feeling back into his leaden waterlogged limbs as he finally made it to the top. Waving his arms a little to balance better on the shifting top of the dune before he got to work doing his job.

Slowly turning around a few times as he looked for big landmarks he soon found a likely spot. Well the largest thing he could see at least. So pulling out the barely still holding together Sextant he moved it up to near his face to try and dial in the distance as he looked at the object through the telescope. Though it was entirely fogged up. So looking down at his feet the rat lowered the device and tried to clean it. Carefully as he knew how sensitive this kind of thing could be. He needed to find out where they were after all so the Captain would know!

But the short rat wasn't focusing on his surroundings at all anymore. Surely nothing terrible would happen to him.

Mgarbrow watched the top of the sand dune as Tornpath, accompanied by Sliteye, slipped across the golden sea crumbs and up the steep rise, only visible because Dyemhar knew their exact location and, even then, confusing to the eye. The weasels would disappear for a few seconds, then turn up somewhere else entirely, not moving in a straight line but rather going side to side and up and down. Tornpatch was a useful member of the crew, Mharbrow reflected, though not for the first time.
The weasel had now reached the top and was getting ready to make his move, carefully checking everything to make sure it wasn't a trap and, if it was, that he was prepared to deal with it. He exchanged a glance with Sliteye and gestured for the other weasel to stay put for the moment while he circled round.
Mharbrow looked across the beach in the other direction as a shout of pain came from where he'd sent Belladonna. He could make out a rat on the ground, nursing an injury but still alive, while the rest of the party quickly secured their captives. His gaze switched briefly to the rocks, where Rangfur and the rat twins were waiting for his signal.
He looked back up to the top of the sand dune and saw that Tornpatch was watching the scene bellow, presumably having finished his task and waiting to bring his prisoner down. It was time.
"Webneck, have you got the rope ready?"
The weasel nodded wordlessly, holding up the thick cord with a vicious grin.
"Good. Give the signal."

"The Painted Phantom of your nightmares has arriiived!"

Mharbrow and Webneck jumped from their spot on the sun-warmed shore and charged, Rangfur doing the same with the two rats as the enemy visibly panicked, struggling to draw what weapons they had.
Mharbrow knew any resistance would be futile. He had vanquished another enemy!

Once he brought the tool up to his face again and saw not a well defined mountain of some kind but a grinning weasel face approaching with a rope drawn the navigator knew he was in trouble. But trying not to panic, as several times he had seen panic lead to death, he turned around to seek an escape. Only to find that there was one behind him too.

Alrighty then! Putting the Sextant back in its belt pouch the small rat raised up his forepaws to shoulder level and gave a weak smile. "A...ay fr'nds! Ta' nah' nea'd ta ras'art ta' ve'lence! 'Ah cum' qui'et."

Though how far that rat got in that before he was bound and restrained who knew! But now he was a prisoner of the enemy crew. And it would be clear by the expression on the rats face he was not confident in his chances now.

(Ey friends! Theres no need to resort to violence! I'll come quietly!)

Wrackfur glanced at Salamandastron in the distance. He had, just two nights before, left a band planning on attacking one of the nearby settlements. The weasel had seen what the long patrol could do; he hadn't lived this long by tangling with them. Hearing  a thundering warcry he stalked out of the woods onto the beach, seeing wreckages and driftwood, and beasts. Rats, other weasels, foxes, and ferrets, obviously corsairs by the look of them. The best thing to do, he reasoned, was leave them alone, but he needed food, foolishly forgetting to take any when he escaped. With a huff, Wrackfur stalked up to some rocks and hid behind them to watch the battle. Mayhaps he could join the victors after it had all ended.

From his concealed position on the other side of the enemy crew, Firestripe saw the captain and the rest of the crew begin their charge.  He wasn't sure why Rangfur hadn't come back, but that didn't matter at this point.  Just as he was motioning to Cutsnip, for them to attack as well, he noticed a ragged, hunched over weasel stalk out of the foliage and quickly take cover behind some rocks not far from their position.  The beast didn't look to be part of the Keelteeth's crew; he didn't look to be a wave vermin at all, for that matter.  Not wanting to take any chances, Firestripe spoke low and quick to Cutsnip.

"Change of plans.  I'm going to attack with the captain, you go see what that weasel is up to.  Don't attack him if you don't have to, we might be able to recruit him."

The ferret nodded to him and they both moved at the same time.  Firestripe silently charged the flank of the Keelteeth's crew, not letting out a warcry as that would defeat the purpose of his sneak attack.  The enemy was panicking, completely focused on Mharborw and the rest.  They would never see him coming.

Cutsnip moved up to where the weasel was hiding, trying to be as quiet as he could.  As he caught sight of the beast, he leaned against a rock and called out to him.  "Enjoyin' da show, mate?"

Wrackfur jolted when he heard the other weasel speak. Turning around, he kept his axe hand relaxed and chuckled. "Hehe, you seadogs liek sneakin' up on us, eh? The waves wer'n't good 'nuff fer ya, so ye had t'come here?" He glanced back at the charge before turning back to the seabeast and nodding in the direction of the skirmish. "Wich one o' them are you, if'n ye don't mind my askin'?"

It was but the work of a moment to conquer the unprepared vermin crew. A long moment maybe, but a moment, none the less. The adrenaline pumped through his veins as he charged, scattering the meager force before him like ninepins. In the rush, one of the enemy rats were killed and another was injured badly but, on the whole, it was a successful skirmish.

Mharbrow stood over the vermin captain, his fur moist from the few minutes of high paced action and his eyes still glinting dangerously as he smiled down at his victim. The other captain had dared to destroy his ship. He'd pay dearly for his decision. It was a shame Keelteeth's captain was unconscious. Mharbrow would have enjoyed telling him what he had in mind. Still, there was work to be done and such entertainment was probably not wise in this situation anyway.

Captain Mharbrow nodded to Firestripe, jerking his head towards the rocks where WaveBlade's skiff was sheltered.
"Good work. Let's get out of the open. Webneck, give the signal for Belladonna and Tornpatch to bring their prisoners in. Where did Cutsnip go, Firestripe?"

Firestripe pulled one of his blades out of a dead rat.  Breathing lightly, he wiped the blood off with some nearby grass before putting his swords away and looked over the scene.  It had been an easy victory, that was for sure; apparently he hadn't needed to be so cautious about things.  Still, in his mind it was better than being reckless.  As things calmed down, he began to notice his bad leg throbbing once again; he'd been putting it through the paces today and was now paying for it.  Not willing to show weakness, he pushed the pain away and greeted the captain with a nod in return, walking over to him with only a slight limp.  He picked up the Keelteeth's unconscious captain with ease and threw him over his shoulder, before gesturing in the direction he'd spotted the lone vermin in response to Mharbrow's question.

"Caught sight of a weasel, not part of Keelteeth's crew, so I sent Cutsnip to...."  Firestripe paused as he looked over and saw the ferret in question leading the weasel towards them.  "Oh, look, here they come now.  Maybe we'll have a new recruit."

Wrackfur glanced behind him after asking his question and noticed the fight was practically over; it  had hardly begun. Noticing that the ferret in front of him wasn't worried, Wrackfur eventually realized (after a few minutes' thought) that he was on the winning side. "Well," he said after a while, "yer crew seems t'be prett' good at the fightin'..." One beast he could take, but not an entire crew. Still, he needed food, and seabeasts had it. The ferret prodded him forward, and he stepped to the side. "'Ey! no need t'poke me; Ah'll go along, pretty as ye please." Wrackfur strode across the beach, keeping ahead of the ferret, and walked straight up to the fox captain, avoiding eye contact and not saying anything.

  Belladonna's ears pricked and she listened intently to the sounds of battle. After several minutes she looked to her comrades.
  "We won. Get those two back to the captain and find my herb bag, but don't look in it or I will kill you."
  Baretail and Fanggrin nodded and slung the unconscious beasts over their shoulders. Grunt remained seated, clutching his leg. The vixen stood slowly, keeping her dagger pressed against the mink's throat and forcing him to rise as well.
  "Stay here, Grunt. I'll send somebeast back to help you into camp." 

Mharbrow watched in silence as the weasel approached, his gaze never leaving the new arrival as he moved forward, his eyes downcast. He wasn't a seabeast- that much was clear- but he looked to be a warrior or, at least, a fighter. Judging by the few scars visible, he hadn't mastered the parrying moves yet. Still, it might be better to take a friendly approach with this beast. He could use a few more beasts on his side.
"And you are...? Come, you can tell us who you are and what you're doing in these parts over some tucker. We don't have much but it'll be better than nothing."
Mharbrow saw Webneck giving him a strange look and leaned down to him, giving a few whispered instructions.
"Go ahead to the skiff. See what we've got in the way of food and, for goodness sake, stop staring!"
Webneck nodded and hurried away while Mharbrow turned back to the weasel.
"As I was saying, I'm Captain Dyemhar, corsair leader of Waveblade, before it got rammed by that slimy skunk they call a pirate. This here is Firestripe, my first mate. What's your name?"
Mharbrow kept his eyes firmly on the weasel, his look clearly communicating that, though his words were friendly, he wouldn't put up with any trouble.

Raising his eyes to meet those of the fox, Wrackfur noticed the cold look. Seabeasts were more uppity than typical vermin, he remembered. When he'd leave, he'd have to leave quickly. "Name's Wrackfur, cap'n..." Casting his typical lazy glance at the skiff and then the slain vermin lying about, he met the captain's gaze and said, "You mus' be proud t'call yerselves pirates, huh? I'd hate t'cross swords with you...er axes neither." Despite himself, he eyed the captain with a smirk on his face, as most slow-thinking vermin do.

Led along after he was restrained Tul was forced to watch from the sidelines as pretty much everyone he knew was slain. It wasn't the best of times. The rat not making any move to escape as he knew death would be waiting if he tried. He at least had his tools on himself soon to plead his case for his life but his dagger had been taken. It had been a nice one too and would likely be delivered to the captain.

But once the battle was over he was shoved and pulled along before being forced to sit down and back against a piece of driftwood from the ships before he was tied to it. Then just left alone to watch and wait for someone to come and...stick a knife in him? Hopefully not! The navigator squirming as he considered this.

  Belladonna pushed the mink in front of her as she walked, her dagger still at his neck. A weasel was talking with Captain Dyemhar, she saw, and he wasn't part of their crew. She wondered briefly if he was a captive from the other ship, but quickly dismissed the thought. His clothes and posture spoke of a life on the land, not aboard a corsair vessel.
  She stopped several paces away from the fox captain, kicking the back of the mink's knees so that he crumpled before Mharbrow PhantomPaint. The vixen said nothing, waiting for her captain to finish with the stranger before she presented her prisoner.

Mharbrow had a hard time holding in his disgust at the weasel before him. He could guess at the thoughts going through the beast's mind and they only served to annoy him further. It didn't bode well for any of the captives they'd taken.
"I generally refer to myself as a corsair, actually but yes, I suppose it can be a rather satisfying occupation. I'm sure you won't find the need to cross weapons with me or my crew and, if you do, I can't imagine you'll get very far. Now, please excuse me, I have matters to attend to. Webneck over there is preparing a meal. He'll serve everybeast when it's ready."
Mharbrow turned away from Wrackfluff, or whatever his name was, dismissing him as he addressed Belladonna.
"Give you any trouble? I see Baretail and Fanggrin are taking care of the other prisoners. Where's Grunt?"

Tornpatch cleared his throat and, when Mharbrow turned to him, saluted and jerked his head towards a large piece of driftwood, where Mharbrow could see an enemy rat sitting on the sand with his back against it.
"Mishun 'cumplish, chief. 'e didn't put up much resistance neither. What d'ye want me to do with 'im? I kin give 'im a good knoch on the 'ead if ye want me to. 'e 'ad this nice rib-sticker too."

Mharbrow gave the dagger a cursory glance and gestured to the skiff.
"I'll take a proper look later. I think, for now, we'll just leave the rat conscious. If he causes any problems, we'll reconsider. Get Sliteye to put all the prisoners in the same place. It'll save having to address them more than once. Here, would you mind taking this animal over? Tie him up tight."

Tornpatch saluted again, tucked the dagger into his belt and relieved Belladonna of her burden with a savage grin as he prodded the mink forward with his own knife.
"Yes, Cap'n. This feller don't look too 'appy 'bout this. Ah well, ragchops, Tornpatch'll settle your 'atch. Move along now."

Mharbrow lifted an eyebrow at Belladonna, gesturing to the two unconscious rats behind them.
"Let's deal with these reprobates. Then we'll have a solid meal and some fun with the prisoners."

  Belladonna nodded and tied the paws of one rat firmly behind his back. She hauled him to his feet and lightly ran her claws across the back of his neck. The rat stumbled forward and Belladonna kept him moving until he stood a short distance away from his bound shipmate.
  "Sit." she snapped, and the rat dropped to the sand, settling himself in the same position as his fellow captive. Belladonna made sure the two rats could not reach each other before she bound his footpaws securely. Her nose twitched as the smell of fish and old vegetables was carried to her from the cooking area. Not a particularly delicious meal, she thought, but it was food and she was hungry. 

Mharbrow tied the other rat's paws and then kicked him into consciousness, hoisting him up by the scruff and wordlessly shoving him until he'd shuffled awkwardly into position. Mharbrow gave him a savage grin and kicked him at the back of the knee, causing the rat to sprawl unceremoniously in the sand.
"I haven't quite decided what I'm going to do with you lot yet. Sit tight and behave yourselves or I'll give you something to complain about."

Tornpatch shoved his captive in place and grinned at the captain, sniffing the air appreciatively.
"Smells like good grub, Cap'n. I 'aven't ea'en in a while. I 'spect these beasts 'aven't neither. What d'ye think, should we feed 'em?"

Mharbrow turned away and headed for the camp fire casually.
"Of course not. Belladonna, where is Grunt? Was he hurt in the fight?"

  Belladonna ducked her head apologetically. "Sorry, Captain Dyemhar. Grunt was cut on the leg by one of these rats. I told him to wait for Baretail or Fanggrin to come back and help him into camp. Speaking of them, where in Sampetra did they go? Fanggrin! Baretail! Get of your worthless behinds and come here." The vixen tapped her footpaw on the sand as the two rats scampered over to her. Fanggrin held out her herb bag to her, his gaze cast down.
  Belladonna took the bag and pointed towards where they had left Grunt. "Both of you go and help Grunt back here. Get him something to eat and then bring him to me." They took off in the direction she had indicated and the vixen turned back to Mharbrow.
  "Again, my apologies, Captain Dyemhar. I should have known not to depend on fools like them."

Mharbrow shrugged the apology aside, watching Baretail and Fanggrin disappear.
"Don't worry about it. Anybeast will get distracted when they've had a long day and the food suddenly comes out. Speaking of which, let's get some of it before it's too late. Would you help me question that weasel? I don't think I'll have the patience to restrain myself from examining his innards if I have to deal with him on my own."
Mharbrow forced out an exasperated laugh and dished himself a portion of the fish and vegetable soup, licking the splashes from his paws before tucking in to the scallop shell.
"We'll have to see about replenishing provisions too. We'll leave here tomorrow."

Belladonna repressed a shudder at her captain's words and laughter as he brushed past her. She sipped her soup slowly, feeling its warmth spread through her body. "So soon?" she queried, mildly curious.

Firestripe deposited the bound and unconscious enemy captain with the rest of the prisoners as Mharbrow and Belladonna planned amongst themselves.  This kind of thing always annoyed him; the captain regularly treated her much more like the first mate than he himself, even though he was the one that actually held the position.  There was no point in bringing it up of course, they'd been part of the same crew longer than he, but it irked him nonetheless.  He decided to forgo food for the moment to keep an eye out, making sure the prisoners didn't try anything while also watching for anybeast trying to sneak up on them.  Who knows if there were others that had managed to make it to shore somewhere out of sight.  It would be stupid to make a simple mistake like that now.

Mharbrow finished his soup and passed his scallop shell to Tornpatch. There weren't enough vessels to go 'round everybeast so they had to take turns.
"Once you've finished, give the shell to Sliteye and take over watching the prisoners for him. Cutsnip, have you eaten?"

"Yes, Cap'n."

"Good, climb up on those rocks and keep watch. Report anything you see to me or Firestripe. Speaking of which, Webneck, go give him something to eat. He looks preoccupied. Tell him that, when he's ready, I'd have a word with him."

Webneck filled his scallop shell and hurried to do his Captain's bidding while Cutsnip scrambled up the rocks. Mharbrow looked up as Grunt stumbled into camp, supported on either side by Fanggrin and Baretail, the wound clearly visible in his upper thigh.
"I'll leave you to work in peace. I've got some prisoners to talk to."

  Belladonna drank the rest of her soup and tossed her scallop-shell aside. She gestured for Grunt to sit in front of her and rummaged in her bag. She produced a strip of clean cloth and laid it across her lap, then rubbed some herbs between her paws, letting them fall onto the cloth. She took a ceramic jar from the bag and liberally spread its contents, a potent ointment, over the wound. Grunt clenched his teeth in pain as the vixen tended him, binding his leg tightly with the strip of cloth.
  Belladonna nodded in satisfaction and repacked her bag. "Get something to eat and then find a job." she told Grunt. She brushed several herb leaves off her red-brown fur, her green eyes fixed on Mharbrow and Firestripe.

Firestripe heard somebeast scrambling up onto the rocks to keep watch and figured that was his cue to reconvene with the rest of the crew.  As he turned, he noticed Webneck heading his way, soup in paw.

"Got some grub for ye; captain's orders.  He wants a word wiv ye, er, once yor ready, 'e said."

Firestripe smiled slightly to himself before downing the soup in one large gulp, handing the empty shell back to Webneck once he was through.  "Thanks mate.  Suppose I'll head over now; no need to keep the captain waiting."  The large black fox stretched his bad leg out as he walked, showing the same slight limp that he always had.  His left eye-socket felt a bit itchy under his eye-patch and he removed it, inspecting the thing.  It had become encrusted with salt from his time in the ocean and he wiped it down as best he could, removing any buildup from around his eye-socket as well.  Before he knew it he'd already reached the captain and he quickly returned the eye-patch to his face.

"Sorry about that sir.  You wanted to see me?"

Mharbrow nodded, his brows slightly furrowed as he watched his first mate's efforts at hiding his pain. Firestripe was a fierce and capable fighter, despite his injuries. The other fox was a useful and trusted ally and Mharbrow wasn't incapable of feeling a level portion of concern and even sympathy for the beast.
"Yes, I did. I was hoping you'd help me interrogate the captives and that weasel. We're moving out first thing tomorrow and I want everything, or as much as possible, sorted tonight. Is your leg...? I think Belladonna has various herbs that help with pain..."

Mharbrow left the statement hanging and studied the prisoners in the dim light, most of them making an attempt at rest and not doing very well. Keelteeth's captain was still out to it, though he looked as if he'd stir soon. Mharbrow smirked quietly. When his enemy did wake, he'd have a splitting headache and the knowledge that he'd been captured wouldn't help matters. It was just as Mharbrow wanted it.

Though he could easily smell the soup, Wrackfur waited until after most of the corsairs had gotten their meals. Being a newcomer didn't help his situation. He scooped up his soup and drank straight from his bowl, stopping and leaning on one of the rocks near the rest of the crew, fully realizing the size of the band.
"At least the soup is good." he thought.

Firestripe shook his head at Mharbrow's question and statement. 

"No need to worry, captain.  I'll be fine," he said, before inclining his head Belladonna.  "I'm sure we're running low on healing herbs as it is, given the state of things."

He pondered the captains plan.  Information would always be useful, so it certainly made sense.  "About the interrogation, as you know it isn't exactly my forte, but I can stand around and look menacing if you want," he stated matter of factly, a small smile on his lips, before continuing in a lower voice.  "Though, I do think that new... recruit we got should be useful.  He' sure to know the lay of the land in these parts."

Squeaking in surprise as the young Captain Gara was thrown to the sand next to him and a few other survivors the Navigator tried to stay still. To not draw attention to himself as he sat there. He was no fighter and no strong beast especially under threat of blades or beatings. So he tried to just wait and watch as Gara was secured tied to the driftwood near him. And once it was done and the main group of Foxes had moved off the Rat err ummed and finally spoke up quietly.

"C..Cap'n G'ra? Ya' 'k?" (C...captain Gara. You ok?)

The small navigator's tail flicking around in worry which made the sextant in his belt clink and clank around quietly.

  Belladonna smiled slightly. Firestripe was right, she was running low on medicinal plants. She had plenty of dried rosemary still, but it wasn't the most useful herb in the world. She approached the two foxes and spoke softly to them.
  "Would you mind asking that weasel you found if he knows anything about plants, Firestripe? I could use some more black cohosh and echinacea, but I don't know if they grow in this area."

Mharbrow shrugged resignedly, not convinced but willing to let the matter rest.
"If you say so. Mmm, you're very good at looking menacing. Maybe you could do the same when I get round to interrogating the weasel. Keelteeth's captain looks like he's beginning to stir. Let's get ready."
Mharbrow drew his dagger and moved forward, swiftly untying the ropes bounding the other captain to the driftwood and dragging him away from the remainder of his crew. He prodded the stoat gently with the tip of the dagger.
"Wakey wakey, sleeping beauty. My knuckles could give you the kiss of true love, if you think you need it."
Mharbrow kept his eyes on the sea scum, talking out the corner of his mouth to the healer fox.
"I'll ask Wrackfur about those herbs when I question him. Tell Sliteye to keep an eye on the other prisoners. I don't want any trouble from them."

Garavito slowly regained consciousness to find a dagger at his throat and a heavily tattooed fox sneering into his face.
"What do you want?" he asked groggily.

Mharbrow's eyes narrowed as his enemy slowly became aware of his surroundings.
"Answers, primarily. For a start, what's your name and where are you from?"

"I will not tell you anything." Garavito spat defiantly.

Dyemhar lifted an eyebrow, a small smile spreading across his face.
"Is that so? I may be able to do something to change your attitude. If not, it will provide ample entertainment. Belladonna, do you, by chance, have any bogweed?"

  Belladonna nodded, a half smile on her face as she passed a small pawful of the requested herb to Captain Dyemhar. "It just so happens that I do."

Mharbrow took the herb and held it over his enemy's nose, watching as he was forced to breath in the bitter scent and his face turned blank.
"Let's try that again, shall we? What is your name?"

"Garavito."

"And where are you from, Garavito?"

"The Northlands." Garavito said, his voice expressionless.

Mharbrow nodded slowly.
"What was your destination?"

"Southsward." replied the ermine.

"Good. What weapons do you have and where are they?" Mharbrow asked suddenly.

"Crossbow, cutlass, and..." Garavito hesitated for a brief moment, part of his mind fighting to resist the drug. "My ring."

Mharbrow looked at his first mate in surprise at the last admission.
"Interesting... Do you have any particular weakness?"
It was doubtful whether or not he'd answer that question. The hesitation before indicated the bogweed was wearing off, though it might last long enough for him to answer this question.

"Yah, go and boil your head, you mouldy bean!" Garavito shouted, revealing that the effects of the drug had now fully worn off. He tried to kick out at the rival captain's footpaws.

Mharbrow smirked, watching Garavito struggled uselessly against his bonds, obviously trying to kick him.
"Thank you for the information, Garavito. I will be sure to remember it."
So saying, Mharbrow gave the other captain a good whack on his jaw, his eyes narrowing as the ermine sank back into unconsciousness.
"And that'll teach you some respect, you runty toad!" Dyemhar snarled, dragging the limp form back to his crew and securing him to the driftwood log.

  Belladonna had watched in silence while her captain questioned the feisty ermine. She took the bogweed from Mharbrow's paw and returned it to it's place in her bag.
  "Who dealt with Garavito, Captain?" the vixen asked quietly. "I want to inspect that ring and find out how it is a weapon. I suspect poison, but I'd like to be sure."

Firestripe had stood by while the captain worked, somewhat surprised by how effective the bogweed had been, and somewhat worried by it as well.  He didn't know if resisting the herb was simply a matter of willpower, but he hoped it was never used on himself.  As Garavito had mentioned his ring as being a weapon, he'd returned Mharbrow's surprised look with an equally bemused expression, and upon the captain finishing the interrogation, Firestripe took a moment to remove the ring from the ermines paw.  It was a pretty thing with a large gem on top, but there was nothing obviously lethal about it.  He'd been about to start trying to twist the gem when Belladonna spoke up, and he handed the ring to her.

"Aye, it's probably best you be the one to examine it."  He said with a wink.  Though, as he wore an eyepatch, being able to tell it was a wink was a tad difficult.  "I'm really only good at fighting, after all."

  Belladonna carefully turned the ring over in her paws, looking at it from every angle. She twisted the jewel and raised her eyebrows as it flipped back on a minuscule hinge, revealing a tiny needle.
  "You had the right idea about the gem, Firestripe." she said, sniffing the ring. "This needle is hollow and full of poison. If somebeast got this stuck in them they wouldn't live long."

Dyemhar's scarred eyebrow lifted quizzically as he watched the ring in the vixen's paw.
"A simple object, yet dangerous. Still, it's not much use having a valuable looking item as a beast's hidden weapon. A beast's valuables usually get confiscated when they're captured anyway. I'm surprised one of the crew hadn't searched him for anything of worth already."

Mharbrow sighed as he turned his attention back to the main camp and, more specifically, the stranger within.
"Now let's deal with the weasel. I have a funny feeling he'll try my patience more than Garakitom, or whatever his name is. Any looking scary will be very appreciated for this task."

Wrackfur had finished his soup and was going to get another serving when he noticed the fox captain glaring at him. Chuckling he laid his bowl on the rock he leaned against, crossed his arms, and smirked, not really attending to the hazard involved in annoying a vermin leader.

Firestripe chuckled at the captain's request.  "Oh aye, I can certainly try and help you out there."

He ruffled the fur on his face, giving it a more wild appearance, and took his eyepatch off, revealing the scarred socket underneath.  It was a quick job, but it certainly served to give him a more ghastly and frightening visage.  This, coupled with his large frame, was sure to put most beasts on edge.  Drawing one of his sabers, he used it as a mirror to view himself while trying out a few different sneers, making sure to be turned away from most of the crew so they couldn't see what he was doing.

"What do you think, should I go with or without the eyepatch?"

Mharbrow chuckled, a faint, though genuine, smile gracing his features as he shook his head in mock disappointment.
"You're as bad as a delicate mousemaid, primping your fur and smiling at your reflection. Without the eyepatch, definitely. Now that our hair is done nicely, let's get to work. Belladonna, can you circle round inconspicuously and cut off any chance of retreat. I have a feeling this beast is going to be a toad. Try and look scary, though I suspect you won't tidy up quite as well as Firestripe." Mharbrow smirked, then attended to his looks before advancing on the weasel, paw on scimitar.

His smile faded when Wrackfur saw the two beasts heading straight for him and the vixen leaving, but he quickly regained it when he saw the captain place his paw on his sword, laughing and saying, "Wot're ye gon' ta use that fer? Cutting fruit?" Although, he said this more to himself than to the captain. He did not hide his smile, shaking his head as the two beasts approached. "Yew two need swords to talk to liddle ole me?" he thought. To him, the captain apparently did not believe he was competent enough.

  Belladonna crept around and crouched beside a large rock, her eyes bright with interest at the scene before her. The vixen kept her gaze away from the scarred hollow in Firestripe's face, wishing he had retained the eyepatch.

Firestripe had noticed that Belladonna was a bit uncomfortable with his current appearance, but he didn't have time to think about it as he put his blade away and approached the weasel alongside Mharbrow.  He didn't like the looks of this burden they'd picked up; the creature seemed awfully full of himself despite the position he was in.  One would think that he would know better than to provoke others when the odds were so obviously against him.  As they grew near and he heard the vermin's comment, the black fox sharply stuck out his paw, placing it on the rock by the scarred-faced weasel's head, and leaned forward over him.  Firestripe's eye narrowed as he shoved his face in close and spoke in a low, threatening voice.

"I suggest you watch your tongue.  We've treated you well and given you food.  Don't make me feel the need to retrieve it." 

He poked the creatures stomach sharply for emphasis before stepping to the side to make way for the captain.  The rest of the crew we're trying to act nonchalant, but many curious glances were thrown their way and he could see one or two of them palming at the hilts of their blades.

The fox's barren eye socket unnerved Wrackfur at first, making him keenly aware of the danger he was in, but he forced his smirk to remain, chuckling again and saying,  "Yew've given me food, yer right; but I'm sher yew'd hate t'lose yer other eye, eh?" As this vermin wasn't the first he'd seen with only one eye, his fear waned and his recklessness increased, fought down by him knowing he had to cave to them to survive.  "Ah just figger that if I were a vermin cap'n, I wouldn' be scared of one weasel enough to need me weapon. That said-"  Wrackfur drew out his axe and tossed it onto the sand, burying it bit down. He noticed a beast moving behind him as he watched the axe, but figured it was just the crew keeping watch.
"Let's do this friendly-like, eh? No need to get each other hurt."
He couldn't fight off an entire crew. He had to give in.

Well they seemed to have been left alone for now. The Navigator letting out the breath had had been holding when the shifty Vixen came up to take the Captains ring. Half expecting her to jam a scalpel or other blade into the small leaders neck. But now they were distracted by the new recuit they picked up. Leaving the enemy crew, them, alone-ish. There were still crewbeasts about but for now they were not being directly looked at.

The small rat had been feeling his bonds during the interrogation and had worked out that they were not tied tight enough for him. He wouldn't try to escape on his own. Too timid for that. But it was something to keep in mind. First things first though the Captain.

Scooting over as much as he could he leaned over and whispered; "Cap'n? Ta ok?"

Mharbrow's eyes narrowed as he took the axe and studied it. It was a relatively cruse weapon, with a sharp enough blade. It was clear, though, that the weight of it accounted for many of its victories. The weasel, irritating as he may be, would need to be fairly strong to wield it with as much ease as he'd just demonstrated. The fact that he'd surrendered his primary weapon didn't mean he was helpless, by any means. Marbrow would be surprised if he wasn't at least decent at hand-to-hand fighting.
"So, your name is Wrackfur. Care to tell us anymore about yourself?"

Wrackfur shrugged. "Nothin' yew haven't heard twice before, I'd reckon." He looked past the crew, out to sea before adding, "I ain't never been on a boat before though. If yer wonderin' how I got here, I came from a band that uh...met its end a few days ago." He found it easier to answer the captain than he had most others.

Mharbrow nodded, making a rolling gesture with his paw to suggest the weasel should carry on.
"Met its end? How so?"

His smirk resurfaced as Wrackfur replied, "How do yew think? They were up near Salamanderstron! Bloodclaw--er, the lead'r of th' pack--might be tough, but not enough fer them hares! Anyway, I came down the coast, and found yew two lovely parties fightin'. Thought I'd stay and watch th' show, but one o' yer crew decided I'd like t'meet yew." He shrugged, grinning lazily at Firestripe. "Ah think yew can figger out the rest."

Mharbrow frowned at the mention of the Long Patrol hares.
"Did you cover your tracks?"

Belladonna snarled inwardly. If his trail leads them here, he will die by my blade. The vixen promised herself.

Mharbrow caught Belladonna's slight, unconscious movement out of the corner of his eye. She was clearly ready to slay the weasel should he answer that no, he hadn't covered his tracks. Catching the vixen's gaze, he shook his head almost imperceptibly, sending a silent message to the healer.
Don't kill him. He could be useful, especially if those overgrown bunnies turn up.

  Belladonna released the handle of her dagger, tilting her head slightly in recognition of her captain's decision. But she did not move her paw far from the hilt of her weapon.

Wrackfur opened his mouth to speak, but bit down on his lip. "Stupid cap'ns and their stupid questions" He hadn't covered his tracks; he left before the attack even happened! There was no way to miss the sounds of the battle, though. He forced his smirk to return.
"Ach, I know how t'get through th' forest! They haven't found me yet!

Mharbrow turned and began issuing orders.
"Sliteye, get the prisoners on their feet and tie them together so they can march. Cutsnip, Tornpatch, cover any sign of the battle and follow along behind to cover our tracks when we leave. Everybeast form up, we're moving out. Firestripe and Wrackfur, you're up the front with me."
Mharbrow's eyes narrowed as he met the weasel's gaze.
"You better know how to get through the forest. Don't play me false, weasel. Your life hangs as much in the balance as ours does."

Sliteye cleared his throat to catch the captain's attention.
"Ready t'march, Cap'n."

Mharbrow nodded and laid a paw on Wrackfur's shoulder, leading him to the head of the column and positioning him between himself and Webneck.
"Right, Let's go. Down sail! Out oars! March!"

  Belladonna had anticipated her captain's orders and moved to the fire, kicking sand over it and slinging her herb bag over her shoulder. She checked that the strap did not impede the use of her sabre and walked to join Mharbrow and Firestripe.
  "Where do you want me, Captain Dyemhar?" she asked softly.

Firestripe's eye narrowed as he bristled with anger, not only at the news that Wrackfur might be leading an army towards them, but at his ludicrously flippant demeanor as well.  Wrapping his claws around the weasels throat, Firestripe pushed him hard against the rock behind him and snarled into his face.  "You best watch your attitude, weasel."

He had more words to say, but stopped as Sliteye cleared his throat and called out, "Ready t'march, Cap'n." 

Firestripe reluctantly released Wrackfur with a growl and watched as the captain pushed him to the front.  With a sigh, he calmed himself down and followed after them, smoothing the fur down on his face and putting his eye-patch back in place as he walked.  He didn't look forward to marching, but they didn't have much choice at this point.  As Belladonna joined them, he thought back and wondered if he should have taken up the offer to get some herbs for the pain in his leg.  It was too late now though; he'd just have to grit his teeth and bear it.

The weasel rubbed his neck where the fox grasped it. He was stronger than he looked. Grabbing his axe from where the captain dropped it and sliding it through a loop of cord at his belt, he turned to the fox, saying, "Awight; time fer my questions. What's yer name, and tha cap'ns?"

Acking as he was pulled to his feet Tul did his best to try and help his fellow crewbeasts up to their footpaws as well. But some of them were either too weary or too large for him to really help. But being jabbed with spear butts and smacked with sword sides soon got them up. And the colum started to shakily make its way off...Toward the forest?

Sure seemed that way. The rat just keeping quiet as the prisoners were led off. They were still alive. That was good. He hoped they could keep it that way.

Mharbrow's eyes narrowed as he heard Wrackfur address his first mate. The weasel still sounded much too sure of himself and Mharbrow could introduce himself if the beast wanted to know his name.
"If you want to know my name, you could ask me directly, rather than pretending I'm not walking right beside you."

Wrackfur jolted when the captain spoke. These sands made beasts too quiet, in his opinion. Still, the cap'n sounded annoyed, but not bristly. He decided to lay off goading him.
"Mos' cap'ns-- corsair er not-- don't talk to a measly weasel. What is yer name, then, cap'n? And," Wrackfur nodded over to the third fox in the line, "Tha' herbalist can interduce herself if she wants. Seein' as ye know mah name, o'course." Wrackfur glanced ahead at the approaching forest and back at the three foxes.

OOC:They're all foxes, right?

OOC: Yes. Mharbrow, Firestripe and Belladonna are all foxes.

  Receiving no answer to her question, Belladonna fell into step slightly behind Firestripe and Mharbrow. She gave Wrackfur a disinterested glance. "I am Belladonna Redblade, and thinking I am merely a herbalist is a mistake that could well prove fatal." 

A grim smile graced Mharbrow's features as the 'herbalist' spoke up, her tone casual and disinterested despite her clear annoyance. Or clear to those who knew her, anyway.
"I advise you take Belladonna's words seriously. She's a dangerous beast to trifle with."

Firestripe ignored Wrackfur and looked back at the crew.  Their pace was being slowed down by the prisoners, but even so they were making decent progress.  With the beasts in the back covering their tracks, he didn't think the Salamandastron rabbits would be able to follow them.  Looking over the prisoners, he noticed one rat that looked oddly familiar.  After searching his memories for a moment, he realized that the rat had been the one he thought dead in the water.  Lucky creature, that one, he thought to himself.  Once they settled somewhere for the night, he might have a chat with the vermin.  The rat may become a part of their crew at some point, so there wasn't any harm in learning a bit about 'em.  The fox returned his attention to the front as they neared the forest edge, listening to the captain put up with the smart-mouthed weasel.  Mharbrow was oddly patient sometimes.

(OOC: Clarification, the rat Firestripe is talking about is Tul)

Wrackfur rolled his eyes after realizing the captain and mate were not going to answer his question, but he decided not to push their patience. "It's the funnest thing Ah've done t'day, though." he thought, smirking again, scanning the woodline. "How far in do ya wanna go before we make camp fer the night, er, cap'n?"

Mharbrow shrugged, giving the prisoners a glance.
"As far as we can. If it wasn't for the fact that most of those beasts were knocked senseless sometime in the last three hours, I'd keep going all night and most of tomorrow. As it is, we might have to stop in a couple of hours and let them rest or we'll be left carrying them."
In fact, Mharbrow didn't care a fish gill for the captives. He could tell Firestripe was in pain, despite his efforts to hide it. If one of the captives was having trouble keeping up or was in pain, Mharbrow would simply give him a good shove and hold a sword point at his back. If his first mate was in pain, even if he didn't want to admit it, Mharbrow would let him rest, without telling anybeast the real reason for the break. The crew would probably guess why they were stopping but nobeast would mention it.
"I'm Captain Mharbrow PhantomPaint, by the way. You can call me Captain Dyemhar."

  Belladonna was pleased to hear they would be stopping before long. She was by no means tired, but rather she wanted a chance to do some herb-hunting in the surrounding woods. She needed to restock her bag with mallow, plantain, calendula and woundwort.

The groups progress slowed as they reached the woodline and entered the forest, which was to be expected.  Firestripe was surprised, though, that the captain intended to stop soon; he'd expected to be walking all night.  The large fox certainly wouldn't complain though, since the aching in his leg was growing worse by the minute.  As they trudged forward, he kept a watchful eye on the moonlit forest about.  It was oddly peaceful, and he would likely have enjoyed this under different circumstances, but this was unfamiliar territory and the stretching shadows cast in the luminescent darkness could hold unknown enemies.  Scrutinizing the surrounding foliage, he spotted what looked to be a clearing of some sort coming up in the distance.  Leaning over to Mharbrow, the black fox whispered.

"Captain, up ahead looks like it might be a good spot to set up camp for the night."

Mharbrow pursed his lips, studying the spot Firestripe had subtly indicated. He hadn't intended to stop that soon but, looking at his first mate, Mharbrow decided that it wouldn't hurt. Most of the crew had gotten a bit of rest while they'd waited for the right moment to attack Garavito's sea slobs but it was likely that Firestripe and Cutsnip had both been awake and watching the entire time, not knowing when their captain was going to start the assault. Plus they had come in on a random piece of driftwood, rather than the skiff, so they would have been more tired in the first place. Both could do with a few hours of solid sleep and they'd be able to travel just as well afterwards. They'd still need to stop later if they didn't do it now.

"Alright, sounds good. Keep a weather eye on it before we get there. It may well be used already by other beasts and we don't want to find ourselves in the middle of an ambush."

  Belladonna keenly scrutinised the clearing they were approaching. The vixen flicked an insolent moth off her reddish-brown fur and sniffed the air, testing for the astringent and slightly unpleasant smell that would indicate hedge woundwort growing nearby. She quietly questioned Mharbrow.
  "For how long will we rest, Captain?" 

Dyemhar shrugged, giving the healer an understanding look.
"A couple of hours. We can certainly rest long enough for you to find what herbs you need."

Paw on hilts, the fox captain stepped into the clearing, his eyes sweeping the quite scene for hostile activity in less than a second. Seeing nothing that would offer a threat, Mharbrow stepped to the side, allowing his crew to come forward and set up camp, which involved tying the captives between a few well-placed trees and finding a comfortable spot to rest.
"Baretail and Fanggrin, watch the prisoners. Rangfur's watching for outside intruders. Everybeast else get some sleep. We won't be dillydallying for long so enjoy it while it lasts."

Firestripe supervised the prisoners being tied up as they made camp.  He would have liked to immediately find a spot to rest, but he was still the first mate, even without a ship.  Making sure they were bound up well, he nodded to Baretail and Grunt before stalking off.  Carefully he moved around the edges of the clearing, inspecting the area in the dim light.  He was worried that this might be a well or recently used spot since it seemed so convenient, but he couldn't find tell of other creatures passing through.  Satisfied, he looked over the crew, making sure they were mostly settled, before nodding to the captain and sitting down with his back against a tree.  Carefully he stretched his throbbing leg out and forced his tense shoulders to relax.  He'd been on edge ever since the initial battle on the water, and it had drained him.  Closing his eyes, he let the feeling of the soft wind blowing through his fur and the sounds of the rustling trees lull him to sleep.

Wrackfur  selected a spot near a tree and pushed some nearby branches into a small pile. "Ah might stay wit' these fer a while," he thought while settling in. "Stressin' the herbalist and firs' mate is too fun. Th' cap'n," he pondered (if he could be said to do so) for a moment, "Ain't too thick. 'E's kept an eye on his crew since he got here." With that Wrackfur set his axe on the ground beside him and leaned back against the tree.

  Belladonna watched Firestripe out of the corner of her eye. The fox was in pain, she could tell, but she doubted that he would ask for help of any kind. Grinding her teeth in frustration, the vixen padded silently out of the clearing to begin her hunt.
  She walked for several minutes before she smelt the herb she was seeking. Belladonna found three medium-sized hedge woundwort plants growing beside each other and pulled two of them up, roots and all. She put them in her bag and continued, finding a patch of mallow slightly further from the clearing. She turned, satisfied, and made her way back to the camp.

Mharbrow settled down with his back against a tree, closing his eyes and breathing out a tired sigh. It would be a long few days of hard travel but they'd likely break the monotony soon. The provisions wouldn't last forever and they'd need to raid at least one family on the way through the countryside, which would provide a bit of entertainment and lighten a few spirits within the crew. Pirating could be done on land as well. These thoughts in mind, the fox captain drifted into a light sleep.

(OOC) I'll allow anybeast who wants to a chance to post, then we'll move on. Feel free to cause a bit of chaos or anything like that, within the limits of realism. We don't want this RP to get too docile.

Acking as he was shoved along Tul did his best to keep up with the larger creatures as a forced march was under taken. It was thankfully not at direct sword point but the intention was pretty clear. Walk or be left behind without your life. So doing his best to keep his Captain going the smaller rat walked. Before it was suddenly time to stop. Thankfully out of direct view of the mountain and its legendary defenders.

Sitting down without a complaint Tul was happy to get the little break but more so out of the direct view of the hares...Well not likely but at least less chance right? Looking down at his clothing and the chains around his wrists he was pretty sure the Hares wouldn't care about him being in chains. He was still clearly a Pirate. And that would likely mean hed be run through by a sabre despite holding his paws. Clenching his paws together he hoped they didn't run into them.

But even if they didn't...this was the crew that had lost their ship due to them. Their chances looked grim. Tul looking up at some of the bigger foxes that were clearly officers but then looked back at the ground. Drawing attention to himself would be a poor decision.

(OOC: Skipping ahead to just before dawn)

BIC:
Mharbrow stirred instinctively, knowing it was time they got going before he even opened his eyes. He rose to his paws, indulging in a good stretch before he began striding around the clearing, nudging beasts into wakefullness with a none-too-gentle footpaw.
"Come on, rise and shine you sunny lot. Time for our morning constitutional. You have until I say you do to get ready, then we're going. Up, up, up!"

Wrackfur groaned as he rose to his footpaws."Ah shoulda known bettah th'n t'sleep against a tree." he thought, cursing his backache. Fortunately, he was still prepared to be on the move, and was ready before most of theothers were.
"Mernin' constitution'l, huh? Yew an' yer lot showed wot they were made of yestidday."

  Belladonna opened one eye as Captain PhantomPaint began waking the others and sat up. She donned the cloak she had been sleeping on and shouldered her herb bag, ready to move as soon as Mharbrow gave the order.

Mharbrow nodded grudging approval as he noticed Wrackfur was ready to move. He didn't seem to be too much of a liability at the moment. Approaching the weasel, the fox captain leaned down and spoke quietly to him.
"Any small villages or settlements you know of that we can get supplies from? It'd be good to stock up a bit before our journey really starts. Shame I don't have a hell cursed ship to carry provisions in." The PhantomPaint cast a hate filled glance at the prisoners. "Stupid rats!"

"Ah dunno." Wrackfur said before he could stop himself. Mentally cursing, he scanned the area, shifting his lazy gaze out to the sea and over to Salamandastron. He turned back to the captain and winked. "Oho! Ah thenk there's a coupla huts a liddle t'the sou'east o'here.  Dunno how far away they are though. Prob'ly reach 'em afore midday."

(Verdauga, I don't think Salamandastron is visible at the moment. We're in the trees and heading away from the mountain. We were two days' away where we landed ashore, so now it'd be at least two and a half)

Mharbrow nodded curtly, giving the weasel and grim smile.
"In that case, we'll pay them a visit. I'd be interested to see how well you fight."
Excusing himself, Mharbrow returned to supervising the preparations to set off, assigning a couple of beasts to cover their tracks and any signs of the camp and checking the captives were all securely tied, loosening each of the bonds to allow the circulation to flow back into the paws before tying them up again. It was partly a gesture of what one might consider mercy, but mostly so Mharbrow could check that none of the prisoners had managed to loosen their bonds during the rest period and were waiting for a good opportunity for escape.
Rising to his paws, the fox looked around, making his way to the head of the party as the last of his beasts got ready.

Firestripe had woken up partway through his rest, unable to sleep.  Pushing himself up to his paws, he stretched his leg out experimentally and was pleased when he felt no pain.  It was a bit stiff, but that was something he could easily handle.  Looking over the sleeping camp, and aware that he himself wouldn't be able to return to his slumber, he quietly relieved Rangfur, who was on sentry duty, and took over for him. 

It was quiet out, with only the soft sound of wind passing through the foliage above and the occasional snore to break the silence.  In all honesty, the fox enjoyed times like this the most.  They reminded him that somewhere, hidden in his heart, he yearned for a peaceful life where he could savor this feeling more often than not.  Once again, though, he began pushing those emotions back into the deep recesses they had seeped from, as he had done so many times before.  He was a fox, a vermin.  The world had long ago told him that peace wasn't fit for one such as he.  For at least an hour he torturously wrested with the thought, turning it over in his mind as he tried to force it back from whence it came.  Eventually, he noticed the Captain beginning to stir, and all unnecessary thoughts faded from his mind.  It was time to work once more.

Firestripe assisted in breaking camp and ended up overhearing Wrackfur telling Mharbrow about the huts he 'thought' were nearby.  The weasel didn't sound all that convincing.  As the captain headed to the front of the group, ready to move, Firestripe joined him and spoke in a hushed tone.  "I don't think that weasel knows what he's talking about, sir.  Should we really by following his directions?"

Dyemhar began the march, shrugging in reply to his first mate.
"We need provisions and this won't take us off course too much. If it does turn out to be a wild ant chase, we can simply readjust our course and go on our way, plus it'll give me an excuse to gut that weasel. He annoys me."

"You aren't the only one feeling irked by him, Captain," Belladonna murmured venomously as she retied her bandanna. "But, who knows, he may know his business after all and lead us to plentiful supplies."

Having been having a wonderful dream of not being a captive Tul hurfed as he woke up and blinked. Oh right. Terrible terrible reality. Doing his best to look at the ground as he was briefly unbound then rebound he just tried to not appear like he was trying anything. He was scared. Just the scared tiny rat navigator. That hadn't stashed a sharp stone in the looted belt pouches at all. He was just here to be at the mercy of his captors. Not cause a fuss. Let the more aggressive members of the crew or the captain draw attention. He was just the one no-one ever noticed.

More than ever Tul hoped that this time it would be like that.

(Slightly setting up his possible escape)

The hint of a smile curled the edges of Dyemhar's lips upward, his teeth showing in a savage grin as he imagined the satisfaction he'd feel as his dagger point went into the bluffing weasel's flesh, his face a contortion of pain and surprise. The captain nodded agreement, then dismissed the matter.
"How's Grunt doing? He seems to be keeping up well enough. Have you had time or inclination to check his wound?"

  Belladonna frowned slightly. Grunt was keeping up, but only just. "No and yes," she said. "I'll have a look at it now, if you don't mind waiting for a few minutes. I'll probably need to redo his bandages and apply more salve." She paused and glanced quickly at Firestripe's leg. "How is...how are you doing this morning?" she asked, a little tentatively. She hoped the other fox would not be angered by her question.

Mharbrow nodded and called a halt, stopping where he stood and remaining there, the crewbeasts and captives following suit.
"Go ahead. Grant's a good beast to have around. We're better to lose a few minutes' traveling time than lose him."

A small smile played across Firestripes lips at Belladonna's inquiry; despite his stoic attitude, she always seemed to be a bit worried about him.  As to why that was, though, he could only guess.  Shrugging nonchalantly, he replied, "Oh, I'm doing well enough, Miss Bella.  Had a wonderful sleep.  When I woke up, though, I noticed the strangest thing.  I was missing an eye!  I wonder, how did that happen?"  The fox let out a short laugh at his own joke before continuing more seriously.  "Really though, I'm fine.  No need to fret yourself."

  The vixen nodded as if satisfied and unconcerned, but she doubted Firestripe was telling the complete truth. "Still, if it...if you have trouble with anything, please just say so." She didn't really expect the other fox to act on her words, but there was no harm in trying. She excused herself quickly and moved back down the column to find the injured crew member, Grunt. 

Wrackfur listened as intently as he could to the conversation going on behind him, but they were whispering too quietly for him to understand, and he soon lost interest. Leaving the group and pushing ahead through a thicket, Wrackfur saw what he was looking for and stopped. Retracing the few paces back to the camp and giving his typical lazy grin, he winked at the captain and his companions. "So Mharby, yer lookin' fer this village, aintcha? Weel, wot if Ah were to tell ye it were less than a hundred paces away?"

Mharbrow leaped forward and shoved his face close to Wrackfur's, curling his lips at the smell of the weasel's breath and drawing a dagger from his belt, his voice fierce but barely above a whisper.
"For a start, don't you dare call me 'Mharby'. If you want to be gutted, that's a great way to go about it. My name's Mharbrow, but you'll call me either Dyemhar or Captain. That is, you will if you value your life. Second, if there's a village less than a hundred paces away, you need to shut your big mouth. In fact, shut it anyway, or would you like me to shut it for you?"
The fox captain poked Wrackfur's fat belly with his dagger none too gently, his eyes glinting dangerously as he waited for a response.

The situation he put himself in really required Wrackfur to be more submissive, but he chuckled at the fox.  "At least I 'ave guts, Mhar- cap'n." His brain eventually caught up with his mouth and he added, stepping back and averting his gaze, "Not a peep out o' me, no sir." "Not until yew taste yer dagger, that is." he thought.

The rat ears twitched. A village. And a possible confrontation. That had all eyes on the captain and the new weasel. It was now or never. Even better he was near the back of the rope line as he was one of the smaller ones.

It would be the most brave thing Tul had ever attempted as he retrieved the sharp stone and set to work. But not by sawing no that would take too long. Instead he put it in his teeth and slid it between the side of his wrist and stuck out his fingers, angling away from the sharp, and shiny slick, rock and tugging backwards. It hurt. Hellgates it hurt. But he got his paw free with a long cut on his paw. The second one went much smoother with a hand free and then he was up on his footpaws. Holding the injured hand to his chest to try and not leave a big blood trail as he nodded at the crewbeast staring at him.

"Ge'tt'n ha'p." He hissed. "'tay qu'eet sa' ah' ce'n gi't e'it." And then he was off as stealthy as he could be. Toward anywhere that wasn't here. Hoping to find anything that could get him out of this.

(Hope that works D:)

The fox captain growled low, showing enormous restraint as he forced himself to calm down and not gut the idiot weasel right then and there. Wrackfur's slight change in demeanor as his thick head started processing what Mharbrow had said helped slightly, though Dymhar still had to hold himself back.
"I'll let you live, for now, thick head, since you probably wouldn't have the sense to die quietly. But one more display like that and I'll feed your guts to the worms, as well as the rest of you. Shut up and get to the back of the line. I don't want to have to look at your disgusting face any longer."
Mharbrow heaved a long sigh and wiped the small drop of blood from the tip of his dagger before sheathing it.
"Anybeast else want to yell out suggestions and give our position away or can we continue?"
The fox's gaze swept across the crew, most of whom had their eyes downcast. They knew better to shuffle their paws or answer him.
"Good. Let's go."
Dyemhar turned, stopping as he caught movement in his peripheral vision. He let out a few choice curses under his breath and turned back to the crew.
"Wrackfur, go deal with whoever just disappeared into the trees. Belladonna, are we ready to go?"

The movement in the trees eluded Wrackfur, but it would get him out of the fox's reach "Ya got it, Fo-- Cap'n." he winked, and ambled off to the trees. "Hulllloooooo!!" He called when he was a few yards in. "Are ye p'raps... Here!!!" He said, swinging his axe through a thicket, to no avail. The movement in the forest seemed to have been nothing. Scowling, Wrackfur turned back to the camp, now several meters away. "Unnergrown wolf of a cap'n," he muttered low, "Bet 'e's never led an attack 'n a vill'ge in his loife. Pro'lly gettin' his men ready to 'ttack me when Ah get back..."

Belladonna nodded and drew her sabre from its scabbard on her back. "Yes sir." The vixen took a deep breath and prepared herself. She was more suited as an assassin than a straight up fighter, but she was willing to bet she could hold her own in a skirmish such as this. She met Mharbrow's gaze confidently. "We're ready."

Mharbrow nodded, his temper cooling slightly as Wrackfur disappeared into the trees. It flared again as he heard the weasel yelling out loudly, still well within earshot.
Idiot! The fox thought. Nobeast is going to just come out of hiding and let him brain them with an axe. The fool needs to actually look.
Dismissing the matter, Captain Dyemhar smiled grimly at Belladonna, his gaze sweeping the rest of the crew to make sure they were ready as his ears picked up the sound of Wrackfur stumbling through the bushes back to them.
"Right, we'll start then. Sliteye, would you please go help that moron find whatever was spying on us. In fact, send him back here to help with the attack and go find the beast yourself. Tornpatch, Fet'n'Fret, Belladonna, Baretail and Cutsnip, you're with me. Firestripe, you're in charge of the prisoners. Everybeast else, listen to Firestripe. If I hear of any disobedience or slacking, you'll be in trouble. Let's go."

The crew muttered assent, Sliteye slipping quietly into the trees while everybeast else copied their captain's movement, drawing weapons and following, their voices quiet, even if their paws made the odd rustle and thudd as they moved. They had all been involved on many small village raids in their time as pirates and, though they didn't have a ship anymore, they felt like this was finally something familiar. Small grins were exchanged between crew members as they prepared themselves for the probably one-sided fight to come.

OOC: Got impatient. Get writing, folks!


Patrol Captain 'Riff' Cardilon wiped his saber with it's polishing cloth, leaving it brilliant in the morning sun. After a short 8-mile morning march, the patrol had just finished an early lunch, and the hares were ending their preparations while the runner swept the march ahead. There hadn't been any news or sightings of enemy militants, so the patrol would long-march up the borders of the eastern woodlands to the borders of the dunes.

Sheathing his saber, Cpt Cardilon looked over and caught the eye of the Sergeant, calling him over with a flick of the ear. "Sergeant, tell the patrol to clean up the vittles and shoulder packs. We'll meet the runner on the road."

Suddenly, the runner came tearing into the camp from the woods.

OOC: Sorry. Yeah, we need to get a move on. If the crewbeasts could post, I'll be able to do more with Mharbrow. For now, here's some Sliteye stuff to get everybeast moving.

  Sliteye bent to check a snapped branch, seeing the fresh sap leaking from the tree's wound, confirming that he was tracking the right beast. He got up and carried on, his eyes scanning the ground, looking for further sign of his target, resentfully muttering to himself under his breath.
  "Why'm I always th'one t'get sen' away when th'fun's 'bout t'start? 'Sli'eye, go help Tornpatch catch some puny rat while we get to actually fight.' 'Sli'eye, go track some useless woodlander while we get to raid th'village.' It's no' fair. They'll pro'ly be scoffin' all the vittles whens I get back, an' Cap'n'll whan us on th'move soon as I arrive. No res', no scoff, no nothin'! I'm sick of it!"
  Sliteye kicked a stone bad temperedly, suppressing the urge to cry out in pain as it didn't budge and left his footpaw very sore, with some blood coming from his claw. It was a minor injury, but it hurt like Hellgates.
  "Stupid rock!"
  The weasel carried on, muttering to himself as he kept an eye out for signs of his adversary; a pawprint in soft ground here, a snapped twig or snagged thread there. All small signs, but enough to tell the weasel he was on the right track. He kicked another pebble, this time giving a grunt of satisfaction as it moved, skidding to the side obligingly.
  "Well, if that ain't no sign 'o good luck, I don' know wha' 'tis."

(Aww Poor Slit, I feel bad for him always getting the raw deal....surely it wont get /worse/ for him or anything~)

Doing what he could to run at a good speed and not leave a huge rat shaped impression in the bushes Tul kept doggedly on as much as he could. But his mind was racing. Making him totally miss the confused hare face as he stumbled past. What was he hoping to find really? Another village of goodbeasts? Then what? Try to convince them that other pirates were coming and he wanted to help. Sure that would go over great when he still looked like a pirate himself. This indecision caused him to slow as he looked back. He had run from a hostile crew. Horrible torture was what awaited him now. Were as it would just likely be labor back there. Hells he could have probably gotten off easy with his navigator skills. Change crews and live better.

But now that was never going to happen. He had totally sunk his own ship of life here. Slowing down more as he clutched his bleeding forearm Tul sighed and leaned against a tree. Barely catching wiff of cooking vittles as he looked at the floor. Pondering what terrible fate would befall him now. The enemy crew would find him eventually...

(Feel free to have the Captain turn up and greet him pointily :> )

(OOC: Don't feel bad for him. He's just complaining about nothing. Tul had it much worse a moment ago)

  Sliteye gave a quick glance behind as he heard pawsteps on the turf, rolling his eyes at the sight of the stumbling oaf of a weasel who came into view around a bush. Giving an irritated sigh, Sliteye retraced his steps until he was close enough to hold a conversation with the other beast without sending the entire forest echoing with their voices.
  "Wha' 're ye doin' 'ere, scum-breath? Ye should be 'elping th' Cap'n an' crew t'fight th' village. Git back an' do wha' yer told. Cap'n doesn' like 'is comman's bein' disobeyed. I'll take care o' whoever was watchin' us, maybe even bring 'im back as another prisoner. Hah, bet he'll like tha'!"
  The weasel gestured back the way Wrackfur had come, waiting for him to turn around and be on his way. Stupid creature couldn't track a badger through mud.

(OOC: Hope this is alright, Verdauga. Slight powerplaying there. I can edit it, if you want me to)

OOC: Nah, it's fine.
BIC:

Wrackfur snorted at the other weasel. "O'course Ah cood, but then ye'd be stumblin' aroun' tryin' t'catch him all by ye lonesome," he winked. "Which is perfeckly alright wi' me if ye wanna tell th' cap'n thet ye los' the prisoner 'cuz ye dinn't know which way the trees grow!"

Upon hearing the runner's report, Cpt Cardilon barked out orders to the camp. "Fires out! Packs on! Weapons drawn! Vermin on the loose, chaps, no time t'waste!" The hares quickly kicked dirt over the smoldering embers  and stuffed any remaining equipment away. Within a minute, they had filed into patrol order and began moving through the woods cautiously but quickly. Elgon, the runner, went ahead stealthily, leading them to the area where he had sighted the vermin.

Suddenly, Elgon signaled for them to stop. Cpt Cardilon moved forward to where he could see a rat, obviously one of the sea vermin, wandering haplessly through the woods. Seeing that he was alone, wounded, and apparently in distress- and obviously not a threat- he nodded to Elgon. They both stepped out of the woods in front of him just as he settled down against the tree, Elgon on the left and Cpt Cardilon on the right. The rest of the patrol moved in, quietly surrounding the tree and cutting off any route of escape. Placing his drawn saber to the searat's throat, the Captain drawled, "Now what are y'doin' here, buckoe?"

Tul had just been about to slump down and sit. Waiting for his pursurers to catch up and deal with him. When he saw small footpaws stop in front of him. Blinking he looked up just in time to see a flash as something rested against his neck. Eyes going wide as they darted side to side to see the uniformed hares of the Long Patrol completely surround him and looking rather grim. The navigator quickly putting his hand paws in front of him so they would be visible and in no way considered a threat as he looked at the one directly addressing him. Ears wilting under the cold stare as he tried to stammer out a reply.

"A...ahh..S'ah!" He stumbled over the words as more and more hares seemed to materialize. " 'Ah wu's cap'tur'd ba' ta' re'vel cr'w! T'ey tr'nn 'ta ra'd 'ta l'il v'llag'e S'ah!"

(Uh, sir. I was captured by a rival crew and escaped. They are trying to raid a small village sir.)

  Sliteye returned Wrackfur's snort, sneering derisively.
  "I don' plan t'lose th'tracks of 'oe'er was spyin' on us. Cap'n's no' the on'y beast who doesn' want to be slung on the end o' a Long Patrol spear. If yer goin' t'come, stow the gab an' let's git movin'."
  Pushing past the other weasel, Sliteye contined his march, his eyes scanning either side of the obscure path for clues of who had passed by, and when. He felt he was gaining on the beast and he increased his pace, fully aware of the idiot weasel behind him. Stupid creature'll probably ruin everythin'. He's as noisy as a flippin' hedgehog! he thought, rolling his eyes as he heard another loud crack of a branch snapping. A blind badger could track that fool! The Cap'n's usually a fairly sensible beast. Don't know why 'e didn' give 'im a dagger in th'ribs. Maybe I should do th'Cap'n a favour an' stick 'im. Could add a spot o' fun t'this cursed trip... nah, beda no'.
  Sliteye continued, encouraged by the fresh tracks in front of him and energised by the thought inspecting Wrackfur's insides with his knife.


  Dyemhar clenched and unclenched his jaw as they approached the small settlement quietly, still undetected by whatever beasts lived within. His left paw rested on the hilt of a scimitar, ready to draw it at a moment's notice or less. The crew was silent, each watching their pawsteps, weapons at the ready, waiting for their captain to give the order.
  An old otter was splitting wood for a fire, while several kits played nearby. Beside another hut, a squirrelmaid was hanging washing on a line to dry. Two hogbabes raced each other outside to join the otter kits and they began piling soil up to make some structure, which would likely be stomped on. A mole was collecting water from a clear pool on the far side of the dwellings and a couple of voles were in the garden, clearing it of weeds.
  Mharbrow's lip curled in a grim smile as he watched the peaceful scene, knowing what it would be like once they were finished. The neat thatch huts would be a smouldering pile of ash, the gardens would be ripped up and bare of the veggies that had previously grown in them. The ground would be stained with blood and, if they were lucky, there would be a few more captives to join the crew of Keelteeth, and the fox captain had no doubt that they would be lucky. A beast forged his own luck, and Mharbrow was an experienced fortune maker.
  Satisfied that everything was as it should be, Dyemhar drew both his scimitars and pointed, his eyes glinting in the sunlight.
  "Let's go."

  Somebeasts screamed warcries as they attacked, Belladonna knew, but she preferred to approach swiftly and silently. No sense in drawing unnecessary attention to oneself in a battle, she believed. She heard Mharbrow speak and focused on the present.
  The vixen held her sabre in her right paw and her dagger in her left. She planned to skirt round the outside of the fight and take care of raiding the buildings. She would like to survive this attack with minimal injuries, and skipping straight to the houses seemed like the safest bet. Belladonna hesitated just long enough to avoid being in the front line, then charged.

Suddenly, a terrifying cry split the clash of combat in the village. "Eulaliaaaa!!! Death's on the wind!"

Shouting war cries with abandon, the hares of the Long Patrol burst into the village on the sea vermin's flank. Having acted with all possible speed, they had left Elgon to bind Tul and immediately charged towards the village at full speed. At the shouts, a sea rat towards the edge of the village looked up from leering wickedly at a squirrelmaid cowering against the outside of one of the farmhouses. He hardly had time to gasp in horror and confusion before Cpt Cardilon leapt forward and took him with a flying saber thrust through the neck. Behind him, the other 8 hares of the patrol charged into the village proper, weapons out and shouting blood and vinegar.

After a split second taken to usher the terrified woodlander inside, the Captain turned and found himself staring straight at a vixen slinking silently along the edge of the woodlands, also holding a saber in her paw. Taking a stride forward, he smiled grimly and extended his own saber to greet her.

OOC: Your play, @Ebantu the Kararehe . Also, I left open what happens to Tul @Faclan , you are free to control Elgon.

 Belladonna's eyes locked with those of the hare, and she bared her fangs in a snarl. "You always have to show up where you're not wanted, don't you?" she hissed, and slashed at the Long Patrol captain. The vixen felt a jolt of doubt as she realised, too late, that she was hopelessly outmatched. Her eyes betrayed her fear but she would not surrender; she expected no mercy from this hare.

It was the screams that first alerted Tul to the fact that the battle had been started. The crew had chosen to indeed raid the settlement. Just as he was having his paws securely bound in front of him and his ankles hobbled together. At least he was alive. He needed to focus on that. Trying not to look at the hare that had been left to guard him he didn't resist when he was sat down against a tree and then watched the hare pacing back and fourth as the battlecries of the patrol rang out. It was clear that he wished to be with them. Not sitting back here watching a vermin. But Tul tried to make it worth his while at least.

"Uha...Sir'ah. Ta' e's a' fe'w me'ba'hs a' ma' o'ld cr'we he'd c'pt've a' wel'. Ta'y w'ul'd 'ppr'c'te a' r'scu'e." (Uhh sir. There is a few members of my old crew held captive as well. They would appreciate a rescue.)

He hoped that wouldn't be doling out brands and mutilation's to himself and his crew...even if they were pirates they were victims here too dangit!

(I think we could have a little dialogue while the more action orientated stuff is going on @Wylder Treejumper :>)

Cpt Cardilon

In reply, the captain merely took a long stride forward, closing to saber range with the bristling vixen. He was not the kind to waste words on seascum. He began probing her defenses, a jab here and a short slash there, the clash and parry of the sabers slowly narrowing the gap between them to an effective fighting distance. He could see that she was experienced with the saber, but years of practice on defenseless goodbeasts had done no wonders for her dueling skills. Locking fiercely narrowed eyes onto the glowing eyes of the pirate in front of him, he suddenly dropped down into an elegant lunge, saber whistling as it charted a course for the vixen's torso.

--------------

Elgon

Taken aback by Tul's indecipherable accent, the young galloper rubbed his ears. "Eh, wot's that, ol' chap? I didn't understand a blinkin' word of whatever it wos that y'said." After listening again, a little more carefully this time, he paused a moment in thought.

The cap'n 'll have my ears for breakfast it I leave the prisoner unguarded. But, wouldn't it be a jolly surprise if I brought back another boatload of prisoners? In any case, I don't suppose it'd hurt as long as I took the old bean with me, quiet like. Just to see what's the recon, and such.

He drew his dirk and placed it on Tul's back, then growled out as menacingly as he could, "Righty, me hearty chap-o- or whatever you pirate types call each other- take me to your mates. And don't make a bloomin' peep, or I'll skewer you right in your thingummy, I will!"

  Belladonna saw the thrust coming a fraction of a second too late. She leapt sideways and gasped as the hare's sabre cut into her, not quite missing. She dropped her own weapon and clutched at her side, sinking slowly to the ground, her face twisted in pain. The vixen turned her head away from the captain and closed her eyes, waiting for him to strike. "Curse you, longears." she whispered through gritted teeth.

Looking down into the hard eyes of the vixen, Cpt Cardilon raised his saber for the blow that would send this scourge, this murderer of innocent beasts, to the Dark Forest. Yet even as he swung, a voice directly behind him cried out loudly, "NO!", startling him. The saber thrummed past Belladonna's head and buried itself in the earth.

"What in the bloomin' blazes are y'doing?" He said furiously at the squirrelmaiden he had saved just moments earlier, who had rushed out from the door and thrown herself down by the wounded vermin.

"She is wounded- incapacitated. You cannot just kill her!" the maid protested, shielding the fox with her arms.

The captain drew up in a towering rage."That vile murdering scum has taken the lives of many an innocent woodland beast like y'self, miss- children, old beasts, and injured ones alike! And she would just as flippin' likely take yours, if she weren't wounded as y'say."

"All the same," she insisted firmly, "I won't allow you to kill her, not in this state."

Cpt Cardilon drew back. "Then she is in your care, miss," he said coldly. "Take care not to become her next victim." Bending over, he quickly stripped the vixen of her weapons, then turned back to the battle without hesitation.

  Belladonna had flinched as Captain Cardilon's sabre whistled past her and flinched again as the squirrelmaid touched her. She listened in a shocked daze as the young creature defended her from the Long Patrol captain; she didn't move as he took both her daggers and picked up her sabre from where it had fallen from her paw. The vixen opened her eyes and tried to speak, wincing at the pain.
  "Why didn't you let him kill me?" she whispered. "One of my comrades attacked you just now, and yet you just saved my life." It didn't make sense. This squirrelmaid should hate her. Belladonna shook her head. It hurt too much to think clearly. Her vision swam, she squeezed her eyes shut tight and tried not to throw up.

Quote from: shisteer of nothing much on May 17, 2020, 07:10:10 AM
  Sliteye returned Wrackfur's snort, sneering derisively.
  "I don' plan t'lose th'tracks of 'oe'er was spyin' on us. Cap'n's no' the on'y beast who doesn' want to be slung on the end o' a Long Patrol spear. If yer goin' t'come, stow the gab an' let's git movin'."
  Pushing past the other weasel, Sliteye contined his march, his eyes scanning either side of the obscure path for clues of who had passed by, and when. He felt he was gaining on the beast and he increased his pace, fully aware of the idiot weasel behind him. Stupid creature'll probably ruin everythin'. He's as noisy as a flippin' hedgehog! he thought, rolling his eyes as he heard another loud crack of a branch snapping. A blind badger could track that fool! The Cap'n's usually a fairly sensible beast. Don't know why 'e didn' give 'im a dagger in th'ribs. Maybe I should do th'Cap'n a favour an' stick 'im. Could add a spot o' fun t'this cursed trip... nah, beda no'.
  Sliteye continued, encouraged by the fresh tracks in front of him and energised by the thought inspecting Wrackfur's insides with his knife.

At length Wrackfur leaned over to Sliteye and whispered loudly into his ear, "Y'know, th' point o' trackin' beasts is to not step oveh all th'leaves in creation!"
He had no sooner gotten the words out of his mouth when the Long Patrol warcries echoed across the forest, but Wrackfur honed in on a quieter sound. Clamping a paw over Sliteye's mouth (or rather his face) he hissed, "Now's not the toime fer gabbin'. Our liddle friend's just ahead!" That said, Wrackfur dashed loudly through the forest toward the sound.

{Sorry if that is powerplaying. I'll modify it if you want.}

(It's perfectly fine)

  Sliteye cursed the other weasel's hide, guts and every other part of a beast's anatomy that he could remember, which included snout, ears, tongue, teeth, several different creatively nasty terms for the lower regions of the torso and claws.
  "Stupit creecher! 'Spose, if 'e ge's sticked, i' 'll save me th' trubbl, an' migh' e'en privide a touch o' warnin'."
  Sliteye kept his steady pace forward, continuing to avoid brittle twigs or crunchy leaves. He was more comfortable aboard ship, where he didn't have to worry about such things, but he was competent enough on land to be able to survive.
  A good thin', too. the weasel reflected, his ears picking up the sounds of battle in the village with ease. I pro'ly won' 'ave no crew lef' neither, once th' fightin's done.


  Mharbrow cursed as he heard the war cries of the Long Patrol and turned to greet the new danger, ignoring the young hogmaid he'd been menacing as she scurried for safety. The crew had scattered to gather loot and start attacking, so they were mostly alone, some in pairs.
  Dyemhar readied his scimitars as a fit looking hare bounded towards him, yelling battlecries and chatting interchangeably. The fox captain had just enough time to see one of the rat twins dispatched by a tall, officious looking hare before he was fully engaged with the incesantly prattling beast.
  "Eulalia! Take that, old boy! Huh, y'think that trick'll work on me, wot! Much too experienced for that sort, doncha know! I say, jolly rude of you, slicing a chap's tum, wot! That white tummy fluff was my ole gran's pride and joy, wot wot, old lad. She won't be very pleased t'see you've stained it, no sah! Blood'n'vinegar, wot! I'll have y'guts for an appetiser and what little brains you have for after, wot! O'course, y' legs would be the main meal, doncha know. Very partial to an ole' fox leg or three. Yowch! Leave me ears alone, y'great pudden walloper! Hah, take that, frog sniffer! Boil me bones, will y'leave my footpaws alone, sah! Jolly rude of you, attackin' a beast's footpaws when 'e's too busy tryin' t' attack yore 'ead to notice! Oi! The forepaws are even less respectable, swig swiller! Hey, git back 'ere and finish th'fight! I can still use m'left paw, wot!"
  PhantomPaint ignored the injured beast's empty threats and accusations of cowardice, knowing better than the hare did that he was out of action, most likely on a permanent basis. If he didn't die from blood loss or infection, he'd be crippled for life. Surveying the battlescene, the captain caught sight of a huddled heap of redbrown fur on the ground, slightly away from the main fight. A squirrelmaid was leaning over her and, from the close distance, Mharbrow could clearly make out the blood from the vixen's side.
  "That squirrel will pay with her life!" the captain muttered, his eyes narrowed into slits and his teeth clenched angrily as he skirted the battlefield, gaining speed and knocking the squirrelmaid to the ground, holding one of his blades at her throat.
  "You killed the vixen, so I'll kill you. I'll do it very slowly and make sure you feel every inch of pain, squirrel! Are you ready?"

Suddenly, the tip of a saber hovered into the searat captain's field of vision. "Quite right, y'know- the small, unarmed squirrelmaiden wounded a vicious, experienced murder (who is most certainly not dead yet, by the by). Just the quality of observation I'd expect from a decorated bit of flotsam like y'self, wot. That happened to be myself, sirrah- and now, I suggest you step away from the lady and face me like a gentlebeast. Unless, of course, menacing maidens is all the real quality you have..." The words were spoken softly, but they were as hard as frozen steel. The ghost of a touch of the saber on the vermin's throat made the consequences for denying the offer perfectly clear.

  Mharbrow froze for a second, then smiled fiercely, pressed his scimitar blade closer to the squirrelmaid's throat.
  "You move that fur styler one bit closer to me and the squirrel dies. Back off three steps and I'll face you properly. I'm not accepting a duel while I'm being held at bladepoint, ready to go down the moment I've agreed to your terms. Want to be killed like a civilised beast, you need to give me room to bring such fate upon you."

Belladonna shook her head to clear it and tried to place her paw on her captain's arm. "Mharbrow, please...don't kill her. She...she saved my life. She didn't hurt me. Please." She felt dizzy again and rested her head briefly against Dyemhar's shoulder. The vixen's paws were covered in her own blood and she chlenched her teeth tightly, trying not to moan at the pain in her side.

  Mharbrow ducked under the hare's sabre, rising to his footpaws, his blade still placed on the squirrelmaid's neck and his eyes locked with Captain Cardilon's.
  "I won't kill her unless I have to. Here's the deal, long ears: You let me and my crew go free, without any pursuit, and I'll let the squirrel live. In fact, once we're a sufficient distance from you and your hares, we'll even let her go. You have ten seconds to make your choice. If you choose wisely, you'll tell your hares to stop fighting and give up their weapons. If not, she dies."
  The fox kept his gaze fixed firmly on the hare, knowing that it would be a hard decision to make. He'd likely try to argue and negotiate until the terms were more in his favour, but Dyemhar knew what he wanted and he wouldn't settle for anything less.

(That was some rapid posting! Fine work peeps :> I think I'm right in thinking that Tuls few remaining crew mates were left back at the camp between those trees? If not lemme know and I'll edit.)

Thankfully for all parties involved besides those seeking him out Tul was silent. Accent hidden away for now as he just nodded and led the hare off as best he could into the forest. Mainly moving away from the main sounds of battle and back toward things he reckongised. And thankfully as his former job was a navigator he was very good at this. And in a rather short amount of time he had led them both back to the former camp of the corsairs. Pretty much deserted now thankfully.

He had done nothing to cover his tracks however as he did his best to point with his ratty snooter at the two trees the others were tied too. But like he had been ordered to he said nothing. Just waited to see what the hare had to say about this as he stood there. Hoping for the best really. There were a few guards he could see. Maybe there was more than two? He hoped not. Prisoners of the Patrol would be better than prisoners of the enemy crew. At least the Patrol were less likely to torture you to death.

Well...hopefully.

Cpt Cardilon

The Captain's face remained as cold and still as stone as he listened to the searat captain try to extract himself from his precarious situation. The vermin was a shrewd sort of beast, and while his gamble was desperate, it was well-played. With a different hare, it might even have worked.
"There is only one choice, vermin. Yours." His voice, in taking on an razor edge rarely heard among hares, had lost part of the trademark accent. "That is, to live, or to die. Your crew has already been nearly routed by my patrol. If you harm the squirrelmaid, or try to leave with her, I will cut you down where you stand, and then your crew will be hunted down and utterly destroyed. You will have taken her life, yes- but you will never take another. If her death is enough to console you on your way to Hellgates, so be it. Or, you may release her, and you and your crew will be allowed to leave the village peacefully. As for guarantees, the word of a Long Patrol Officer is renowned enough that you may trust it. Or not, in which case you and all your associates will die- no great loss." He gaze bore into the searat captain. Suddenly, he whistled sharply from between his teeth, and all of the hares not in the heat of combat turned towards him. "There is no escaping fate, captain. What will it be- life, or extermination?"


--------------------------------------


Elgon

Elgon ventured forward slowly, sliding between the trees to the area indicated by the unintelligible, but apparently harmless searat. The camp appeared deserted, but there was a bit of a racket at the far end. Moving quietly along the edge of the clearing, he got moved into sight of a couple of very bored-looking vermin guards, tossing dice and idly stirring a tiny fire. There were a few more vermin tied to the trees behind them, but they were obscured by the guards and a bit of brush, and didn't seem to be doing anything.

Well, time to make a go of it! But I'd better jolly well not botch the job, or Cap will have my ears, wot wot!

Striding boldly into camp, Elgon drew his rapier casually and pointed it exaggeratedly at the two flabbergasted vermin. "Har har, me 'earties! Surrender yer booty and join up with the great corsair Elgon the 'Orrible, er prepare ter face the 'orful consequences!" Contorting his face into an awful, twisted expression, he began to spout off the most horrible things he could think might terrify superstitious sea vermin.  "I'll shiver yer gizards and lilly yer timbers, asides from keelhauling yer miserable remains and then letting me pet sea serpent flay yer hides from yer rotting carcasses! So, wot'll it be, me lads- me crew, er the plaaaaaank?!"

OOC: Someone want to take over the poor vermin guards here? You should be able to have a bit of fun with them XD

  Sliteye rolled his eyes as the other weasel charged through the trees, entirely oblivious to the tracks which showed their target turning and heading back the way he'd come, a few metres parallel to his previous path.
  Good ridance! Stoopi' beast. the tracker thought, frowning as he noticed a new set of tracks following the other. Sniffing the thread that had caught on a nearby twig, the weasel screwed up his nose in disgust. The scent was of a hare, and the hare in question smelled clean and vaguely of flowery soap.
  Yuck! 'o would use such disgistin' poshuns an' wotnot? 'e mus' be no' righ' in th' 'ead, proly why 'e's not joinin' the fight. 'is mates mus' be scared 'e'll kill them, 'stead o' the enemy. Either tha' or 'e don' 'ave no fightin' skills anyways. Harharr!
  Despite his scornful thoughts, Sliteye moved more cautiously, knowing the reputation of the infamous Long Patrol as well as anybeast. To vermin corsairs, the mention of the Long Patrol was far more terrifying than mention of ghosts or sea monsters. In fact, if it weren't for the fear of his own captain, Sliteye would have turned and made a run for it.
  Still following the tracks, he approached camp again, spying the rat he'd been tracking first. Now he got a good view of him, the weasel recognised him as a member of Keelteeth's crew. Specifically, the same one he'd caught on the sand dune.
  'e wants ter be knocked on the 'ead again, huh? I moight as well oblige 'im.
  Sneaking up on the beast, Sliteye drew his knife and held it by the blunt edge in his teeth, tapping the rat on the shoulder.
  "'ey dere, make." the grinning weasel whispered fiercely around his knife.


  Mharbrow's eyes glinted fiercely as he listened to the hare's counter offer. If he did try to cut him down, it wouldn't be easy. Many beasts had tried to kill him in that past and none had succeeded, or lived to see another sunrise. If it came to a fight between the two, Mharbrow had no doubts as to who would win, but the hare was offering him another alternative.
  The word of a Long Patrol captain was renowned, though, all the times he'd heard of it, the hare in question had sworn to never stop hunting a particular vermin down until he was dead, and he generally succeeded, though occasionally he died in the process, in which case his friends finished the task for him. Even if the hare captain was dead, Mharbrow had no doubts that, should he harm the squirrelmaid in any way, he and his crew would be hunted down without mercy.
  "So, should I choose to let the squirrel go, I have your word that you will not come after us and, if I do harm her, I have your word that you and your friends will stop at nothing to see us dead. Either way, I will get to find out how good the word of a Long Patrol captain is. It is a hard choice, but I will go with the first option. I doubt you'll succeed in killing me, but I'd rather not have to watch my back that thoroughly."
  The fox released the squirrelmaid slowly, making sure she could support her own weight before removing his paws from her completely and stepping back.
  "There. I have fulfilled my half of the bargain. Tell your hares to stop fighting and we'll be on our way."
  Dyemhar watched the hare carefully over the head of the young squirrel, taking another pace back and dropping to his haunches to show his submission, though every muscle in his body was tensed and ready to move in case of treachery. In the vermin world, the only promises given by Long Patrol hares that he'd heard of were ones of certain death for the recipient of the promise. He had no knowledge of how trustworthy a treaty of peace was, and he wasn't taking any chances.

Firestripe wasn't sure if he'd been upset or relieved about being left behind; raiding peaceful creatures had never been his favorite thing to do.  Of course, he'd always done his duty without question, and more than one innocent creature had fallen under his blade, but deep down he knew that this wasn't the kind of beast he wanted to be.  Life, however, had left him little options, and so he did what he had to in order to stay alive.  Pushing pointless thoughts out of his head, the large, black fox sat under the shade of a nearby tree, nearly disappearing from sight, as he awaited the rest of the crews return.  However, the distant sounds coming from the village started to sound more like a battle and less like a raid.  After thinking for a moment, he ordered Fanggrin and Rangfur to quietly make their way to the village to see how things were going.  He didn't think some woodlanders could give the captain much trouble, but he figured it was better to be cautious.  Hopefully Belladonna, Mharbrow, and the rest were fine. 

As the ferret and fox vanished into the brush, Firestripe ran his good eye over the prisoners; they were pretty quiet for the most part, but some had a strange look in their eye as if they were expecting something.  He was about to get up and go inspect their bonds when he heard a noise to his right.  Seconds later, a hare waltzed past him from a yard or two away and straight into the middle of the camp where Grunt and Webneck had been playing dice.  The two looked exceedingly confused as the hare, naming himself Elgon the... 'Orrible, menaced them with rapier and silly accent alike.  Firestripe had more interaction with hares than most vermin, having been captured by a small patrol when he was younger; they'd been one of the groups of goodbeasts he'd tried to peacefully approach after he'd lost his parents.  He wasn't sure why they'd kept him alive rather than killing him, but not too long after he'd been captured, some... things happened that he'd rather not think about, and he'd managed to escape.  Elgon here definitely seemed to be your average hare.  He was obviously brave, and obviously reckless, treating danger as a joke.  And the way he handled his rapier was pretty par for the course, meaning that he seemed to be quite good with it.

Firestripe silently rose to his footpaws, one saber in paw, and approached the hare from behind.  "Plank walking is old fashioned, friend.  Nowadays, we just gut ya and then toss ya overboard.  I can show you what I mean, or you can drop your blade.  Your call."

Looking extremely confused as the grand hare rescuer just walked into the camp and started to try and act like a terrible Pirate Tul just kind of stood there. Really unsure of his plan here. Like...these were actual vermin pirates. They would know what and Pirate sounded like. And there were more of them than the single hare. What did he think was going to happen really? But as he was still bound there wasn't a whole lot he could do besides try to hide from the big fox left in charge and peak out every so often to observe the happenings.

That was until he was tapped on the shoulder. Expecting it to be another Hare asking what the doodle was going on his confused faced quickly went to fear as the weasel was there from before. Looking like it was time for rat noses for dinner. Tul just squeaking and being momentarily frozen.

  Sliteye chuckled maliciously at the fear in the rat's eyes, reaching a paw down and grabbing hold of the conveniently pre-bound beast while his other paw retrieved the knife from his mouth.
  "Don' ye worry, mate. Sli'eye'll look h'after yer. Jus' don' make a'noise an' everythin'll be a'righ'. Come 'round 'ere an' git back ter yore mates. They be'n missin' yew, y'know."
  The weasel shoved his face close to the rat, smiling reassuringly in such a deliberate way that he looked anything but reassuring. He kept his face close until the rat answered, his yellow fangs showing around the vile scent of his breath, which came out in heavy gusts as he purposely bullied the helpless creature, his knife held casually in one paw to dissuade defiance.

Wrackfur stopped in a clearing. The voices he heard had to be nearby, so where were they? He had to find the rat and bring him to the captain--
The captain.
"Ohohoho!" His sides shook as Wrackfur realized what he had done. He'd escaped. "Ah got some food out o' them, an' got 'em busy, an' Ah got 'way from 'em!"
A gruesome smile showed on his face as Wrackfur twirled his axe in his paw, heading out of the reach of the badger lord and his army, and Pirate and crew.

Cpt Cardilon

The Captain put up his saber and signaled to the alert Long Patrol soldiers to disengage- which they did, with some reluctance. He then shifted his gaze to glare at Mharbrow. "Now, leave here peacefully with all your crew, quicklike, and be gone from this region. Find some honest work to do- because by the left, if I ever meet up with you and any of your vermin plundering or murdering again, there is nothing this side of the dark forest gates that'll keep me from removing you scum from the Earth."

----------------------------

Elgon

Well, this is just what I was bally well worried about. You've done it again, Elgon- put your hindpaw right in your jolly big mouth. And this time the situations got a point to it, wot! Elgon let out a tiny, dejected sigh as he heard the searat's words and felt the swordpoint between his shoulder blades. He dropped his rapier, but couldn't resist having the last word.

"I say, a bit barbaric you modern pirate types are. We great corsairs have a flair for the dramatic, doncha know- there's a sense of style to it that you overly practical types will never understand. Leave it to commercialization to ruin the arts, wot!"

  Mharbrow smiled and sheathed his weapons, coming upright again and crossing over to where Belladonna lay.
  "Mind if I carry you, vixen? You look slightly too wounded to walk and we're going to beat a rather hasty retreat."
  Not waiting for a reply, the captain scooped the wounded beast up, slightly surprised at the weight of the female, though he wasn't in need of help. He considered asking the hare for her weapons but decided it probably wouldn't go down well. He'd just give her one of his scimitars if it came to a fight.
  "Well then, good day to you, longears. Crew, gather the dead and wounded and come along. I'm not leaving anybeast to the Long Patrol's tender mercies. Hurry up."
  The captain paused as he passed the squirrelmaid, who was still standing where he'd left her.
  "Thank you, fluff bottom. You saved my healer's life and provided a way for us to disengage, even if it wasn't intentionally. I won't forget that, though the chances of me being able to repay you are probably slim."
  Having said his piece, the captain moved on, calling orders to the vermin under him and gesturing with a free paw and his head.
  "Get moving you blaggards! Hurry up before the hare changes his mind!"

  Belladonna hissed in pain as Mharbrow lifted her, closing her eyes and concentrating on not screaming. She opened her eyes when her captain addressed the squirrelmaid and flicked her gaze to the creature who had saved her.
  "Thank you, miss," she whispered. "If I live-" She gritted her teeth in sudden pain before continuing. "And if I ever see you again, I'll remember what you did for me."
  Mharbrow kept moving and the vixen shut her eyes again, wincing as her captain shouted to the crew. Fates and seasons, this I say, let us live another day and that squirrel I'll repay. She vowed silently as Dyemhar carried her away from the battleground. 

Tul would just nod at the deal that was laid out to him. How he would get to live through all this. Thankfully he was told to stay quiet so that was nice and easy to do. If he were a more daring skilled fighter he may have tried to move on the Pirate. Despite his bound paws he may have been able to surge forward. Shove that dagger into his mouth before grabbing another weapon and swinging. But he wasnt that. At all. He was just a short navigator who was soon shoved on the ground next to the other members of his old crew as they grumbled and shook their heads at him. Some rescue this was. It looked like the hare was going to be joining them soon as well!

The group just had to hope that the hares found them before the foxes got back.

As Firestripe menaced the hare with his blade, he noticed out of the corner of his eye Sliteye returning with the run away rat.  Good, that's another problem solved, he thought to himself.  Without looking away from the hare, he called out, "Sliteye, tie that one back up with the rest, and check him for a blade, for goodness sake.  We don't need more escapes." Firestripe then gestured to Webneck, who quickly retrieved the fallen rapier from beside the hare; there was no sense in leaving the weapon within easy reach.  Keeping the tip of his blade pressed against Elgon's back, the black fox spoke in a menacingly calm manner.  "Smart choice, friend.  Now would you mind telling me what exactly a patrol hare is doing out here?  I somehow doubt you're alone.  Oh, and before I forget, get on your knees... Mr. 'Orrible."

Mharbrow

  Dyemhar surveyed his group, sighing at the sight before him. Three dead, one injured badly and two fit, not counting himself.
  "Cutsnip, you can take Tornpatch and Baretail, Fret, carry Fet. Let's go."
  Without a further word or backward glance, he marched away from the village, heading on right angles to where the camp was until he reached the trees. The method was virtually useless, since nobeast was covering their tracks, but it was a formality that he liked to take care of anyway.
  "Cap'n, what 'appened? Firestripe sen' us ter see if'n ye needed 'elp."
  Mharbrow sighed with relief at the sight of the two beasts, thanking fate silently for his blessed first mate.
  "Firestripe's a good beast. Rangfur, give Cutsnip a paw with his load. Fanggrin, cover our tracks. I'll brief everybeast back at camp."
  The fox and the ferret hurried to do as they'd been instructed, casting shocked glances at Fet'n'Fret, one of which was carrying the other. They couldn't imagine having only one of the brothers around. They were inseparable.
  Stepping out of the bushes into the clearing, the most prominent feature that took the fox captain's attention was a young hare, his rapier at his footpaws and Firestripe's blade between his shoulder blades.
  "What- Webneck, Grunt, get a stretcher set up. Rangfur, help everybeast who survived with whatever they need to do, including sorting out what provisions they got, then make a start at digging some gra- Scratch that, get Keelteeth's crew to dig some graves. Firestripe, what on earth happened here?"
  The camp immediately came alive, everybeast rushing to do the captain's bidding. Mharbrow approached the black fox, Belladonna still held as gently as possible as he studied the first mate's captive.
  "What's your name and what in season's name are you doing here? Webneck, hurry up with that stretcher! This vixen needs a decent place to rest."

Sliteye

  Sliteye checked the rat for weapons and, confirming that he had none, attached his bound paws to the line of prisoners, hurrying back to help with the dead and wounded who had just arrived with the captain. At his order to have the captives dig graves, he hurried back to them and selected two from the line, attaching a lighter rope to their footpaws and bringing them into the main part of the camp.
  "'Ere, I'll git these beauties starded on th' graves. Thems love diggin'."

Elgon

Elgon knelt, grimacing as the pirates snatched up his rapier. The searat-no, fox, he saw now, craning his neck to glance behind him- who had captured him gazed at him with a self-satisfied look on his face. Well, here's a pretty pickle, wot! I've made a bloomin' mess of the plan, I have. Hmph, talked meself into it, and I suppose I'll have to bally well talk meself out!

"Well, me fellow pirate chum, I was a patrol hare, wot! But I've had quite enough of marchin' all over the bloomin' continent from north to south, wearin' out the ol' hooves and gettin' nothing to show for it. So I struck out fer myself to have a lark at this corsairing business- sailing the sea, saving 'elpless maidens from marriages with crusty dukes and other such unsavory types, liberating gold aplenty from unscrupulous bodgers.. anything better than split footpaws four days of the week, wot wot!" He twitched his whiskers primly, imitating a somewhat snobby major he had often seen during his service in the Officer's Mess. "And by the by, that's Captain 'Orrible to you, mate!"

The grip Firestripe had on his blade tightened as he saw the crew, or what was left of it, return; the defeated look in the eyes of those still alive told him enough of what had transpired.  Things like this were bound to happen from time to time, they were pirates after all.  He knew this, just as well as he knew that there wasn't a single good creature among them deserving of a better fate.  Even so, the sight of Fret carrying his dead brother made his blood begin to boil.  And then he saw Belladonna, and the the wound that had nearly taken her, and he felt himself go light headed with anger.  Gritting his teeth, he reached down and wrapped his claws tightly around the hares neck from behind, shoving the tip of his blade more firmly into the defenseless creatures back.  It took all of the will Firestripe could muster to keep himself from simply running the hare through, there and then.

"Enough of your games, rabbit," his voice growled through tightened jaws as his hot breath ruffled the fur on the hare's head, "Answer truthfully!  Don't think I won't send you screaming in agony to the Hellgates."

  Belladonna forced her eyes open and carefully turned her head in the direction of Firestripe and the young hare. She saw a faint red stain on the fabric where the fox's swordpoint met Elgon's back.
  "Please, Firestripe," she said, her voice tight and low. "If you're going to kill him, do it quietly. Pounding headaches aren't helped by screams."

  Mharbrow chuckled humourlessly, shaking his head.
  "Firestripe, can you at least leave him alive long enough for questioning, please? He could turn out useful."
  Webneck tapped the fox captain lightly on the shoulder, gesturing to the hastily set up stretcher at the edge of the clearing, far enough from the activity that its occupant wouldn't be overly disturbed by the noise but close enough that they would be at paw, should Belladonna need anything.
  Mharbrow nodded and excused himself from the conversation, crossing over to the stretcher and laying the vixen down as gently as he could.
  "Sorry. Should I find out if Keelteeth's surgeon survived and get him to administer to you or would you rather not have anybeast from that season-cursed ship touch you?"

Belladonna leaned her head back and shut her eyes. "Thanks for that, Dyemhar," she murmured. "And yes, if the mink is still around I'd have his service. Better to be tended by an enemy and live than go untended and die." She smiled grimly, eyes still closed. "Although death doesn't sound too bad at the moment. No provisions, a lot of the crew wounded or dead, and the Long Patrol on our tails when they find out we have this rabbit here." The vixen tilted her head toward Elgon. "Oh well; we'll get by. We always have."

Cpt Cardilon

Cpt Cardilon looked over his patrol as they went about returning the village to a semblance of order- at the edge of the clearing, two hares put together a fence that had been smashed in the melee. The medic had finished wrapping the wounds of Cpl Ferris, whose leg was seriously injured. It would take no small amount of time before he was fit to return to active duty patrol. The patrol Sgt was helping two very shocked-looking mice to gather up some sacks of blood-spattered produce that had been dragged out of the barn by the marauding pirates and scattered on the path. Catching the medics eye, he gestured for him to come over. "Lieutenant, find Pvt Harrowson and return to the village with the prisoner immediately. It's imperative that we keep a sharp eye on those--"

He was interrupted by the pounding of footpaws, as an exhausted-looking hare sprinted into the village square. "Captain!" The hare gasped, completely winded, "your patrol- needed- Salamandastron, immediately." He bent over and placed his paws on his knees, holding himself up. Theother hares of the patrol hurried over, listening intently as the runner relayed his message. "The Wraith, sighted inbound; corsair fleet attacking. Orders are, report to the garrison at once." He looked up at the Captain grimly. "The attack has probably already started."

The Cpt bit back a sharp reply, instead turning to the patrol to relay orders. "Right chaps, on the double! Gear shifted, weapons cleaned! We move out in half an hour. Double forced march until we get back to the mountain, or die trying, wot!" He turned back to the medic as the Sgt began haranguing the troops into order. "Go on, no time to waste! Get Elgon back here on the double!"

----------------

Elgon

Elgon gritted his teeth as the tip of the blade dug into his back. He could feel a trickle of warm blood as it seeped from the wound. This is serious business now, bucko! he thought wryly. You've always wanted excitement and adventure, and now you've bally well got it! Captured my murderous seascum who'd like nothing more than to chop you in ribbons and keelhaul me from the mainsail, or whatever thingummy it is pirates do. And to top it all off, no sense of humor whatsoever. No wonder their mum's kicked 'em out and they fell into a life of villainy.

"Well, chaps- n' chappeses, of course," he said, nodding gallantly to Belladonna, "I do figure it is time for me to be off. It seems like the Patrol's around, and they're none too merciful to deserters and great corsair types like meself, wot!" Here he grunted as he felt the sword prod a bit more against his back- but he forced out a grim smile and continued. "As it seems like you beans 'ave already verified. So, if'n you don't mind, I'll be takin' my leave, wot! Corsairs run a busy schedule ya see; I can't be late for this week's beauteous maiden liberating, bad form doncha know!" He felt the tears beginning to pool in the corners of his eyes, but quickly blinked them back, continuing to smile defiantly. Kill him they could- but never would he cringe or beg. Pvt Elgon Filmorley Harrowson would meet his death smiling!

  Mharbrow nodded once and stood up, giving the vixen a determined smile, his eyes glinting.
  "We'll survive. Webneck, get the mink from Keelteeth and have him tend Belladonna. Watch the scum closely for funny business."
  Webneck hurried to do as he'd been told, liberating the miserable looking beast from Sliteye, who had a fresh willow switch and was going about instructing the prisoners on graving digging.
  Turning back toward his first mate, Mharbrow let a more amused smirk cross his features as he shook his head mildly, too tired for more anger or bloodshed.
  "Firestripe, do you think we could let the poor beast live for at least a while longer? There's some information I'd like from him."
  Moving Firestripe's paw back slightly, the fox captain gestured to the hare, heaving a tired sigh.
  "Up you get, longears. Time for a little conversation over a nice cup of... water."

Firestripe turned his eye sharply towards Mharbrow, anger still pumping through his veins; the captain's seemingly nonchalant attitude did little to douse his ire.  He felt his grasping claws begin to dig into skin as they tightened around the hare's neck, and for a moment he was overcome with the desire to end the beast right there.  It wouldn't change what had happened, but it would certainly make him feel better.  The moment passed, however, and with a deep, calming breath the black fox relaxed his grip and released the creature.

"Fine."

Refusing to look back, Firestripe strode away as he sheathed his blade and went to let his head cool as he supervised the rest of the crew.  Checking in with Sliteye and Rangfur, he made sure the grave digging and provision sorting were moving along, and after seeing that they were, he cast an eye across the camp and spotted Fret working away, dry eyed and tight jawed.  Walking over, Firestripe put a paw on the vermin's shoulder.

"Need a break?"  he asked as Fret looked up at him.  The rat hesitated for a moment before silently shaking his head; he was obviously letting himself be absorbed in his work to keep his mind off of his brother's death.  The black fox nodded in understanding and patted the creature's shoulder in quiet support before walking away.  Doing a once over of the tree line, Firestripe checked for movement before letting his gaze roam over to where Belladonna lay on the stretcher.  He watched from a distance as the Keelteeth's mink healer tended to the vixen's heavy wound.  It was a nasty one, to be sure, but it didn't seem like it would be life threatening.  Still, he couldn't help but shake his head in annoyance at how little he could help now, and how little he'd helped before.  Of course, he had no way of knowing if his presence would have made much of a difference, but he was certain that they would have at least faired better than this.  Heavily perturbed, he settled for keeping watch over the treeline, over the camp, and over Belladonna.

  Belladonna watched Chiptooth closely as he worked, her teeth gritted as she tried to keep her breathing even. She refused to let her pain show; the mink wasn't trying to hurt her, after all. Chiptooth kept his gaze fixed on the vixen's wound and the supplies he had been lent.
  He certainly knew his business, Belladonna thought to herself as he finished cleaning the wound and threaded a needle from her medical bag. She fought to stay silent, but knew she wouldn't be able to stop herself from yelping when Chiptooth began to sew the wound closed.

  Mharbrow looked after Firestripe with a slight frown, taking into account his stiff shoulders and the way he was holding himself. It was clear the black fox was angry. Mharbrow shrugged as he turned back to the hare, making a mental note to make sure his first mate wasn't angry at him before he went to sleep.
  He drew his dagger and toyed with it casually, watching the long eared beast carefully.
  "I have a feeling you won't be giving up information about the Long Patrol easily, if at all. As a matter of fact, I don't have any particular questions about Salamandastron or its defenses right now. My current concern is more about staying alive. Would you be so kind as to show us how to forage? A few of my crew can identify basic edibles but we're not particularly experienced and it would be helpful to have a local to show us where to find the larger food sources, since your captain or whatever he is didn't like the idea of us raiding villages to survive."
  Mharbrow watched the hare carefully, his dagger held loosely in paw, waiting for a response. The hare would be far more useful if he didn't need to be 'persuaded' to help the fox captain, but he would still be a good bargaining chip, even if he was injured. Either the hare would help him or Dyemhar would find some other village and trade his life for some food. Both ways would feed the crew, so Mharbrow didn't particularly care which one the hare chose.

Thanking the stars that guided him that he wasnt picked for the grave digging duties Tul would just sit and listen. All he could do now. He was a known escapee now. So needed to keep a low profile. Let them forget him. Live.

But then those big rat ears had to pick up that the fox captain was looking for help foraging. And Tul couldn't help but jump, metaphorically, at that. Tugging at the ropes as he tried to stand up he was likely about to get slashed with the switch before he squeaked out.

"Cap'n! Sirrah! Ah' ce'n 'alp w'th 'ta fer'ag'! Ta Nav'e'getah ta ha' ta' 'earn n' lot 'bout lan's ta' fe'nd oo't wha'r ta' lend'ed!" Hopefully they could understand his dreadful accent.

(Captain, sir, I can help with the forage. As navigator I had to learn a lot about lands to find out where we landed)

((Hope thats ok with peeps))

Elgon

Pushing himself upright again, Elgon gazed at the captain and vermin crew, taking in their measure. A sorry, beat up bunch they were- and pretty hungry looking, as well. Suddenly, his own stomach let out a loud rumble, and he realized that he was more than a bit peckish himself. Hmm, I suppose it can't hurt to show the blokes how to get some scoff- I guess it might stop them from stealing otherbeasts tucker, too. In any case, I'm flippin' famished, and I don't suppose I'm going to get any vittles otherwise, wot!

With a flourish he turned to Mharbrow. "Pirating's hungry work, so it is mateys, wot! You're bloomin' lucky you've got the great Corsair and forager Elgon the 'Orrible on your side, or your timbers would be shivered, and without scoff t'boot! I suppose I could help out a few pirate chums scrape up some duff and skilly, or whatever it is you less refined sea-going types eat. The maiden liberating can be done along the way, wot! Although I'll have to ask that you keep that uncivilized excuse for a pirate-" here he he glared pointedly at Firestripe, "-and his bloomin' meat cleaver away from my person."

  Mharbrow smiled despite himself. It was a small smile, but a smile, none the less. This rabbit was quite the comedian. If he wasn't a Long Patrol hare and Mharbrow wasn't a pirate captain, the fox reflected, they might actually become what some might call friends.
  "Wonderful. Will I need to tie you up, or do you want to give me your word that you won't try to escape or hurt anybeast?"
  Dyemhar outright laughed at Elgon's rather pointed comments about Firestripe, shaking his head at the acclaimed Corsair.
  "I suggest you don't make too many slurs on Firestripe's person or his blade. He doesn't seem to be in the best of moods at present and I doubt insulting him will help matters. I hear you, though. Behave yourself and I'll set other beasts to watch over you, rather than my First mate."
  Mharbrow heard a bit of commotion behind him and turned slightly, raising a scarred eyebrow at the rat captive, completely uncomprehending.
  "If somebeast can understand what that sea scum is saying, please tell me. If it's something I wouldn't like, don't bother passing the message on."
  Turning back to the hare, Elgon the 'Orrible, or whatever his name was, Mharbrow sheathed his dagger and spat on his other paw, then held it out to the beast.
  "So, you'll show us how to forage and, in return, we won't kill you. Deal?"

Stepping out of the main throng of crewbeasts on Mharbrows side a rat missing his left front incisor nodded. "Aye Cap'n - he was talking about how he was a navigator. So could help with the foraging cause ey had to learn lots about lands and the like for his job." He squinted at Tul who had a big smile on his face. "Dunno tho Cap'n, sounds like a bit of a fib." And the smile was gone. "Nice to 'ear a far Tauril accent tho, been seasons since I 'erd it again. Good rats those lot." Somewhat of a smile back.

--------------

Meanwhile in the wide open seas, though getting worryingly close to land, a large ship would be approaching. Much larger than the two smaller ships that had sunk each other this one was a full galley. Oars pumping rythmically away to speed the vessel along with the added boost of sails. Corsairs of all types of verminous persuasions going about their jobs quickly and not daring to look at the beast standing with a foot on the prow. Staring at the land that had been sighted that morn. A new land to claim as his. Or at least a substantial chunk of it. And then burn the rest. As he had done before.

(Feel free to add to it as you post as we build up the big bad :>)

Elgon

Elgon flashed a smile at Mharbrow. "Sounds bally good to me, wot!" The hare spat on his paw and grasped the captain's, shaking it. "I'll show you the jolly ol' ins and outs of forest scavenging. Why, there won't be a bally blueberry left un-pilfered, or a root left un-scoffed by the time I'm done teachin' you chaps. Or my name isn't Elgon the 'Orrible - which it is, wot wot."

Greeneye & Silvertongue

Meanwhile, further in the woods, two young creatures were strolling along a dirt path. The first was a fox, who was rather tall. He was covered in reddish-grey fur, and had blue eyes. He was wearing some well ketp-black clothes, and a silk purple cloak that billowed behind him. He was playing a lute, his paws expertly twanging the strings as walked next to his friend.

The second creature was a rat. Whereas the fox appeared more elegant, this one looked much more rugged. He had a ragged green shirt with some leather armor thrown over it, along with some wrinkled brown pants. The rat, despite being young, had clearly seen some battles. He had an eyepatch covering right eye, a hook replacing left handpaw, and; oddly enough, an iron prosthetic replacing right footpaw. His one green eye was locked onto the fox, grunting as he readjusted the two heavy bags on his back.

"Silvertongue, could ye not play that wretched music?" The rat asked.

"Oh, Greeneye, you never have any appreciation for the finer arts." Silvertongue replied, huffing and looking over. "Why don't we stop for the night, and start a fire?"

The two of them went back and forth like this as they walked, Silvertongue still plucking away at the lute.

  Mharbrow lowered his paw, his eyes reflecting the agreement they'd made as he nodded approval. Goodbeasts were usually far too up themselves to heed vermin traditional, especially when it involved spitting, but Elgon didn't seem too bad a chap. Hiss eyebrows lowered as he turned and studied the rat navigator up and down for a few seconds. He was a rather scrawny beast, obviously not built for hard work, though it was Dyemhar's opinion that such an issue could be remedied without too much difficulty, on his part.
  "Thank you for translating, Tormbo. So, rat, you think you can help? As it turns out, I have a forager here, so I don't really need you at the moment. I suppose a willing set of paws could be useful, though. Get back to work on that grave and we'll have a chat later, yeah?"
  Dyemhar nodded to his crewbeast and the rat obligingly put Keelteeth's navigator back to work, leaving the captain and his new ally in peace.
  "I'd rather the roots remain unscoffed for the time being. We want to have food to bring with us and Belladonna is not in a fit enough state to treat a stomach ache. Just find the food and we can eat it later, in more moderate doses."
  Mharbrow rose and gestured for Elgon to do the same.
  "We can go in maybe half an hour, but we need to bury the dead first. Stick around and pitch in to help wherever you can. Fret, watch the hare. Make sure he doesn't try any funny business."
  Fret left what he'd been doing and joined the acclaimed hare pirate as the captain went to check on things around the camp, approaching Belladonna's stretcher as the mink was finishing up its administrations under Webneck's watchful eye.

Firestripe had simmered down by now, the sharp edge of his anger dulled to a blunt, throbbing in his head.  It surprised him how easily he'd let himself get caught up in that fiery feeling; he'd always considered himself to be a pretty even keeled creature.  It seemed, though, the annoyingly unfortunate series of events that had befallen the crew had taken a toll on him mentally.  He ran a paw through his headfur, trying to put himself into a better mindset.  Things had been bad, but at least right now it seemed that they might have a chance to gather provisions without having to fight anybeast.  To him, that certainly was a step in the right direction.  On that note, he had to accept the fact that it was a much better decision to leave this Elgon character alive.  It wasn't like Firestripe enjoyed killing goodbeasts, after all.  It's just... he had an aching in his chest that he wasn't quite accustomed to, and from this pain a blazing rage had sprung forth.  The black fox shook his head, annoyed.  If this was going to be a continuing problem, he'd have to learn how to control it.  The chance that he could fly off the handle like that at a moments notice only made him a liability.

While, mentally, Firestripe had been wrestling with these thoughts and emotions, physically he'd been running on autopilot.  His body was well accustomed to the task of being First Mate, and so he'd been moving around the camp without thinking, making sure things were running smoothly and assisting where needed.  Even while doing this, though, he'd glance over at Belladonna's stretcher every once in awhile.  Unconsciously, he was worried for her, and was surprised that a creature as capable as she had taken such a grievous wound.  He noticed the Captain approach her stretcher and assumed that he was done talking to the hare.  The large, black fox sighed and headed over as well.  He hoped that the Captain hadn't been too perturbed by his earlier attitude.  Stopping beside the other male fox, he looked down at Belladonna along with him.

"Sorry about before, Captain," Firestripe said in a low voice, not wanting to disturb the wounded creature in front of him.  "I got a little heated, it would seem."

If it were possible for a rat to deflate thats what happened to Tul when he was told that he got to dig graves! Horray! The smaller rat fumbling with the shovel that was thrust into his paws before he managed to get a ahold of it. Looking over at the one known as Tormbo for some help for a fellow rat. But the other just shrugged and smiled.

"Aye mate - at least ye still alive. So keep doing good and we'l do good by you." Tul didn't believe that for a second really. But he had little choice. Refusing to do a job the captain gave him would be beatings at the absolute best. So he just noded and turned to set to work on digging. Trying to follow the lead of the other beasts who had been given the job.

Though it would be fairly clear to all watching that the navigator had never really held a shovel in his life.

  Belladonna was clearly in pain, her teeth clenched and her eyes squeezed shut to keep from crying out. Mharbrow felt a tightening in his chest and had to force himself not to stop the mink from continuing his work. He stubbornly pushed the sharp order that was hovering at the edge of his tongue down. The vixen needed this treatment. She may even die without it.
  The captain took a deep, hopefully calming breath and continued watching as the female fox was bandaged up and the mink was escorted back to the rest of the captives and given a spade. He didn't look up as Firestripe came to stand beside him, also watching Belladonna's mostly still form.
  Then the first mate spoke and Mharbrow let a slow, slightly amused smile spread across his face.
  "It would indeed seem that way.' the Captain replied mildly. 'It's not often that I see you lose your temper. I'm glad you've got control of yourself again. The poor rabbit is not harmed badly, but he's maybe more than a little scared of you now. That beast is playing a dangerous game and I think he's crossed the fine line between bravery and stupidity. He's lucky we're the ones to have captured him. I know several other corsair captains who aren't nearly so easy going."
  One captain in particular sprung to mind and the captain felt a cold hatred clutch his heart. Ulrik El-Dinbar. The beast who had robbed a young corsair blind, stolen his ship, killed most of his crew and gotten away with it, for now. One day, Mharbrow would get revenge. His words were quiet, but none the less vehement.
  "Stupid, fat, ugly stoat! I'll settle our agreement one day, you'll see."

  Belladonna let out a long breath as Chiptooth finished his work and returned to the task of grave-digging. She listened to the muted conversation of the captain and first mate and opened one eye a crack to regard the two foxes beside her. She frowned in annoyance; the fact that they were there out of concern for her didn't register with her.
  "Yes? Can I help you?" the vixen asked, with just the faintest hint of sarcasm. The pain was making her irritable, she realised, and tried to feel apologetic. The attempt was a failure.

  Mharbrow looked up sharply in response to Belladonna's question, frowning at the clipped tone and answering accordingly.
  "Oh, no. It's not like we were worried you'd die or anything!"
  Spinning on his heel, Mharbrow stormed away from the vixen, fuming at her irritability. He'd been trying to look out for her and make sure she was alright. She shouldn't have snapped at him. As the captain, he deserved more respect.
  The crew didn't even have to be given orders. They all noticed Dyemhar's worsened mood and all made themselves look very busy and productive with various camp tasks.
  After looking around for something to do, Mharbrow decided to put his anger to good use in getting a fire started with the sticks already gathered. It would most likely be a cold night and, in all the rush of them arriving back, the small fire that had been licking sticks to nothing before had reduced to a pile of ash and coals.
  And I shouldn't even need a flint and steel. The captain reflected humourlessly. Put the dry tinder in front of Belladonna and she can just snap at it.

Thankfully the rat was quick to pick up proper positions for his paws on the shovel and most of the form needed to stop his back hurting too much as the digging resumed. It was decently quick work with four beasts on it. It was just a matter of cooridinating their swings up and down to not clang against each other and slow down. Which happened occasionally but less and less as they got more experienced. Then there was some fixing and shifting needed to make it so they wernt flinging dirt on any beast or fires. And finally it was just digging.

Wasn't even any whips being snapped around their heads which was a very nice change but Tul suspected it was because they were working and not complaining. And just like slaves they knew what would happened if they slacked. Besides, glancing over at the camp as he dug the shove into the earth, most of the slavedrivers and whip masters looked like they were resting. Oh well you take the victories you can as he continued to dig and fling.

Doing what he could to keep his big dish ears open to pick up anything that could help him out of here. Not wanting to be a slave really. What a shock.

Further into the woods, a silver fox with black ears, face, and tail tip slank silently through the woods. Only the very slight slapping of his sheath against his thigh gave away his presence, and that was only if you were right next to him. And the only beast near him was a stoat, sniffing a little ways ahead. The two weren't planning any ambush mission or such, but they'd heard Long Patrol hares might patrol this far out.

Funny, I thought those overgrown bunnies usually didn't travel much past the shores, the fox thought to himself. Good thing my last clients were willin' t' give me th' tip.

The stoat suddenly stopped in his tracks, his nose sniffing the air, ears swivelling.

"What's wrong, mate?" The silver fox said quietly, coming up to his friend's side, straining to hear what put his pal on alert. He didn't expect an answer. The stoat was incapable of talking.

The stoat could smell a host of other creatures, mostly foxes and rats, and the two could make out somebeast talking, albeit indistinctly.

"Think it's safe?"

The stoat only trilled.

The silver fox shrugged, unsheathed his sword just in case things turned hostile, and headed forward, keeping as much in the shadows as he could, his stoat companion following behind him.

Firestripe sighed to himself as he watched the Captain trudge away, tendrils of anger bleeding out from his movement.  The black fox figured that Mharbrow was likely aware that Belladonna wasn't fully cognizant at the moment, but the fact that it still got to him showed that he was just as mentally drained as the rest of them.  They really needed a break; nothing had been going well for them lately. 

Firestripe refocused his gaze on the wounded vixen and let a small smile play on his muzzle as he placed a paw lightly on her shoulder.  "Sleep, Belladonna.  You'll feel better, and the Captain will be in a better mood, methinks."  Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked away to leave the vixen in peace.  As he strode through the camp, he made note that things were running smoothly.  Apparently the crew had caught on to Mharbrow's mood and were responding appropriately.  As it stood, though, there was little for the large fox to do, and so he fell into his usual routine of patrolling the perimeter of their encampment.  Keeping an eye out for movement in the surrounding foliage, he made himself more familiar with the area immediately around them.  One could never be too careful, after all.

Maut slipped stealthily through the woods, his stoat companion right behind him. The two didn't dare make a sound. They didn't notice the big black fox until they walked into his line of sight. Maut nearly did a double take at the size of the fox. Vulpuz! Was 'is mother a wolf?! Picking a fight with him would obviously be a very bad idea. He raised his paws placatingly, forgetting for a moment he had his sword drawn. "We was jus' passin' through. We ain't lookin' fer trouble."

His stoat companion kept a wary eye on the black fox, ready to jump to Maut's defense should the other fox attack, though he made no attempt to appear threatening.

Firestripe had instantly dropped into a combat stance and put a paw on one of his sword hilts as soon as he'd noticed the fox and stoat stealthing their way through the underbrush.  They were quite good.  He hadn't heard them at all, and he had the feeling that it was only via luck that he'd spotted them so quickly.  He also couldn't help but notice that, though the silver fox claimed to mean no offense, he very clearly had his blade drawn. 

Glancing between the pair, the black fox relaxed slightly, but didn't remove his paw from the hilt of his saber.  "Friendly you may be, but your steel says otherwise."  He said, scanning his one good eye around them, casting about for any more hidden figures.  "Is it just the two of you then?" 

If that indeed was the case, then he might be able to recruit them.  They seemed like capable creatures, and goodness knows the crew could use some reinforcements.  Maybe their luck was finally about to change for the better, even if only a little.

Maut looked bemused for a moment, before he realized he was still holding his sword. He chuckled nervously as he sheathed it. "Sorry 'bout that, mate. Heard there were Long Patrols out here. Figured it was best ta be prepared. And yes, it's jus' th' two of us. Name's Maut. This is Veach." He indicated to the stoat.

Seeing that the two seemed non-hostile, Firestripe finally dropped his paw from the hilt of his blade and nodded at the pair.  "Everybeast calls me Firestripe.  And you're right about the Long Patrol; my crew had a run in with them not too long ago."  "Though..." he paused, thinking quickly.  The pair seemed worried about the mountain hares, meaning he might be able to use that to convince them.  "We did manage to come to something of an... understanding.  Basically, they'll be leaving us alone for the time being.  If you're worried about the hares, I'd suggest joining up with us."  He finished with a wink.  Though, because of the eyepatch, it mainly looked like he simply blinked at them.  It was an old habit he still hadn't gotten out of.

The silver fox barely hesitated. "I think we'll take ya up on tha'."

Ulrik El-Dinbar

The sharp salt breeze snapped the blue pennants of the Silver Gull high above the waves. The ship shuddered as the boarding plank came down onto the blood-washed deck. There was the thud of heavy boots, and then Ulrik El-Dinbar jumped down onto the reddened timbers of his latest conquest.

Clad in a black greatcoat with silver braided trim, one paw resting on the ornate hilt of his cutlass, the stoat surveyed the Gull with the dispassionate eye of the expert. The pirate crew bustled about the deck, dumping bodies overboard- mainly sea otters, but a scattering of mice as well- and securing broken spars. The anguished moans of prisoners mixed with the derisive laughter of the pirate crews, the moaning of the hull and the creaking rigging. He bent over, and easily flipped the corpse of a brawny sea otter with a crossbow quarrel in his neck over the railing. It landed in the waves with a splash.

"Cap'n Dinbar's arrived!" a ragged fox cried, looking up from his work. "Get Cap'n Craggin!" From the aft cabin, a scarred searat with a wooden leg burst out and stumped his way across the ship to meet the pirate king. "Harr, Cap'n Dinbar! How d'ye like the newest addition t'the armada? She's a fast 'un, we 'ad a mighty chase ter catch 'er."
The stoat nodded sharply. "She's a fine ship, Craggin. Get 'er secured and get the prisoners aboard the Vulpus Infernal, she'll be taking these bilge scrapings back to Terramort along with the others. Leave a few of yer crewbeasts 'ere too, I'll be sending over a skeleton crew to take her in for refitting." His even baritone betrayed only the slightest hint of an eastern isles accent.

Captain Craggin smiled, a terrible expression on his deformed face. "Right ye are, cap'n. But I got a present fer ya too, sommat special. Foller me." He led Ulrik up the stairs of the aft quarterdeck, where the stoat saw, tied up and under heavy guard, two hares. The first, a young female, whimpered and sniffled almost unconsciously, frozen with fear as the two vermin guards on either side of her leered down wickedly. The other, an older, well-dressed male, looked up at Ulrik with horror-stricken, worried features.
"Hares." There was an edge to his flat tone.

Suddenly the older hare struggled upright, despite a rat giving him a sharp blow to the side with the butt of his crossbow. "Yes, sah, we are hares! And I demand that my daughter and I be released at once!"
Ulrik stared at him for, then, looking at the guards, made the slightest motion with his head. The rat spat over the gunwale, but moved away from the hare, who struggled to his feet, almost incredulously. "I say, I th-"

In a flash, Ulrik's paw flashed forward, and a silver streak betrayed the dagger that embedded itself in the underside of the hare's chin. He gurgled, and then Ulrik withdrew the dagger slowly. The hare toppled slowly backwards over the gunwale, and the splash was inaudible beneath the horrible shriek that ripped from the hare maiden's throat. Ulrik flicked his dagger once, then licked the blade. Slipping the newly-shining blade back inside his greatcoat, he nodded matter of factly. "Yer request is granted." He turned back towards the stairs, but as he did so he spoke to the guards. "Once you've done with 'er, dump her over the side."

The screams of the haremaid echoed across the water as Ulrik El-Dinbar and Captain Craggin walked back across the deck towards the gangplank. The searat looked at him, amused. "Har, I knew that'd be a good one fer ya." The stoat gestured equivocally. "I much prefer the ship. Good work, Cap'n. It's been a fine day so far, wouldn't ye say?" He jumped onto the gangplank and lightly climbed back up to his own ship.
"Set course, due south! We sail fer Salamandastron!"

  Belladonna gave a half smile in reply to Firestripe's gentle words and touch and closed her eyes. "I'll try," she murmured. The vixen heard his retreating pawsteps and opened one eye again. She scanned the campgrounds until her gaze fell upon Mharbrow, crouched beside a fire he was in the process of kindling. She let out an irritated hiss and lay back, wincing as she settled down to sleep.

Robert Pinebrush kicked sullenly at a patch of thick grass. The young squirrel was in a foul mood, a stark contrast to the beauty of the forest surrounding him. A few birds trilled their songs with gusto, almost seeming to mock Robert's miss fortune.

"Why do I have to fetch things for everybeast?" he muttered, slinging the bag he was carrying onto his other shoulder. "You'd think I was a slave for all the work I do! I mean, couldn't somebeast else collect mushrooms? I've been out here for ages! Hmph." He stomped over to the base of a tree, catching sight of an edible piece of vegetation. Shoving it onto his bag, he plowed on, mumbling under his breath.

Before his parents sent him on his task, Robert had been whittling a piece of wood. His carving knife was tucked into his belt. He brought it out now, slipping the bag off his shoulder and dropping it. He stabbed the blade's point into a nearby tree, shaving off a piece of bark, then did a few fancy twirls with it. "Nobeast could tell me what to do if I was a great warrior. Why, I could do whatever I wanted! Ugh... I wish Old Tom hadn't stopped teaching me..."

Old Tom was a hare who lived in Robert's village. He was ancient, grizzled and grumpy. It had taken a lot of persuasion on Robert's part to get the old veteran to teach him how to use a sword. However, once Robert's mother learnt of his antics, she immediately put a stop to it.

"I know Ma wants to keep us safe and all," Robert said aloud to himself, "but I don't want to just become some farmer or something. I want a life of adventure!"

  The work of kindling a fire had largely put out the residue flames from his angry encounter with Belladonna and Mharbrow was left with a somewhat guilty feeling. He respected the vixen. She was a good healer and an excellent navigator, in addition to being a competent crewbeast and his oldest ally. It wasn't often that the two foxes snapped at each other like that.
  Rising to his footpaws, the captain glanced around, looking for any beast who didn't appear to be doing anything and not finding one. They had all seen his encounter with the vixen and decided it was best to stay out of his way.
  Sighing, the painted fox approached the graves, picking out the rat who had volunteered to help with foraging and gesturing for Tormbo to bring him over. Dyemhar gave Keelteeth's navigator a brief inspection, then nodded and gestured towards the fire.
  "Let's have a chat."

Huffing a little as he kept digging away the navigator in question was clearly not cut out for overly physical labor. Not because of was horribly overweight or anything but his small stature and often more delicate focused job just meant he didnt have much practice or know-how to work smarter. So instead he had to work harder and was starting to flag behind the larger grave diggers. His sweat matted face looking up just in time to see the Captain point at him before Tormbo waddled on over. The shovel being gripped tighter as Tul couldn't stop an epp coming out of him. Thinking his time was up!

Before it was revealed that the Captain wanted to see him. Which dropped his fear and stress from about a nine to a eight. See him could mean gut him and roast him over the fire. Especially after he was directed TOO the fire. But he tried to hold in his fear as he set the shovel down and moved over. Though both Tormbo and the Cap'n could tell he was terrified as he looked at the ground in front of the fox and waiting to be addressed. Tormbo standing around for translation purposes when the need arose.

  The poor rat was petrified, that much was clear. Mharbrow considered putting his fears at rest but decided to have a little fun first. Taking his dagger from its sheath, he began to sharpen it casually, watching the navigator in silence for a while. He was very small and obviously quite timid, likely willing to switch sides at the drop of a hat, which could be a good thing or a bad thing. He also had a fair amount of competence at planning, since he'd escaped and managed to avoid Sliteye for quite a while.
  Deciding to start the conversation, the fox looked up from his work, still moving the dagger over the whetstone steadily.
  "So, you're the troublemaker who tried to escape, is that right?"
  Dyemhar allowed a smile to flicker across his face at his gruff question, since the rat wasn't looking his way. He wanted to see how far the rat would go before he started pleading for his life. Hopefully he would hold out for a while. The captain despised cowards.

As Robert jabbed furiously at the tree again, his blade twisted suddenly, causing the young squirrel's paw to smash into the bark. "Yeowch!" Robert dropped his knife and hopped around in a pained dance, blowing furiously on his paw. "Ow, ow, ow!"

A while later, it stopped throbbing and the squirrel began to pick up his things again. His ear suddenly twitched. "Hmm, what's that?" he mumbled aloud, looking around. It almost sounded like... voices? But what would creatures be doing this far in the woods? The nearest village was a good ways off.

Snatching up his bag and knife, he shot up the side of the tree and whisked along a branch, following the faint sounds of the noises.

"Aye, Silver, quiet-" Greeneye held his paw up. "I think I hear some beast nearby."

"Oh, uh, maybe they're friendly?" Silvertongue looked over.

"I doubt it." Greeneye unsheated his cutlass. "Let's be careful about this."

The two of them trailed aong towards the voices, Silvertngue shoving his lute into his bag and pulling out a sabre.

The rasping of a blade against a whetstone did nothing at all to calm the navigator down as his ears started to twitch and flick around. Foot and hand paws flexing and closing as he tried to keep himself from trying to make a run for it. If he was to die then it would have happened already. And torture wouldn't likely take place near the hare as he would be against that...right? Finally clasping his handpaws over his lap to try and stop himself fidgeting just as the fox spoke up.

A half groan half sigh coming from the rat as he nodded before looking up. "Y...ye Cap'n t'was me." Hands still clasped ready for begging when the time came for it. "E...et'...uhh...," there had to be some way to explain this better. He honestly had thought the time he would be needled for this had passed so he had pushed it from his mind? Why now? What did the Captain want? Taking a breath Tul did his best to meet the Captains gaze. "'A'h th'nk t'was sum'hn'g ta' wo'ld 'ave d'un, eh?"

Tormbo shrugging at Tul. "He thinks its something you would have done in the same situation Captain. Trying to justify himself probably."

  Mharbrow considered the words for a moment, nodding slowly and sheathing his dagger, then removing a sabre from his belt and beginning on that.
  "Aye, you are correct, up to a certain point. In such a situation, I wouldn't have simply run off, I would have taken whatever I used to get free and slain my captors with it. You, however, should be glad you didn't do that, because then I'd be forced to kill you. As it stands, you can keep your life, but it will be nothing short if miserable."
  The fox stopped here, waiting to see what his captive's reaction would be. A navigator could be useful while Belladonna was out if action, but anybeast working for the captain needed to fight. For such a small, timid beast, learning the skills required would most likely be a nightmare.

Robert's jaw dropped open as he caught sight of the vermin crew below him. He could see beasts digging - what appeared to be - graves on the right side of the camp. Sliding forward along a branch, the squirrel inched closer, studying the rest of the crew's activity.

What are corsairs doing this far inland? Wonder if they're just passing through, or if they plan on carving out an empire of something.

Robert peeked down toward the fire, where three beasts were talking. From the little that he could pick up, one of the foxes appeared to be the captain. Perhaps if Robert could get a little bit closer, he could hear more of what they were saying...

Ears up! The Captain was agreeing with him! Before they lowered down to a more normal level as he further explained that it wasn't fully what he would do. The smaller rat holding up his paws to show their relative softness in comparison to the rope haulers and battlers of the crews. "Sa'rah Sah'. M'dde 'ta ma's, na'h 'ta s'eb's."

"He made and likely worked on the maps Cap'n, not the stabbing. So trying to sneakily end some of our crew was likely not in his skill set."

He frowned when he was told it would be miserable anyway but he kept himself looking at the captain and not deflating fully."We'll...'tis u'er cr'w Cap'n. Ba' tr'i 'ta 'elp c'a'us y'ew wen."

"Seems to accept it Captain Mharbrow, since you won. At least hes not begging eh?"

  Mharbrow ran a paw lightly over the blade, pleased that it left a straight trail of blood. Letting a smile reveal his fangs, the fox captain flicked the sword up and caught it by the tip, holding the razor sharp sabre out, hilt first, to the rat.
  "Well then, welcome to the crew. As you can see, I already have a navigator, but I can always do with an extra set of paws, so you're going to learn to fight. For now I'll assess you myself, then pair you up with somebeast to teach you at your level. En garde."
  While he had been talking, the captain had moved away from the fire. Now he drew his other sabre and stood almost side on, knees bent and relaxed,  left paw behind back, sword pointing up, tail swishing steadily, waiting for his opponent to take his place.

Twitching his ears, Robert leaned his head down slightly. The tree he was perched in was directly above the three beasts. One of them had drawn their sword, causing the squirrel's eyes to widen.

A fight? This could prove to be interesting. Robert began to crawl along the branch, trying to get even closer. He froze as the wood began to creak underneath him. Bad idea! Bad idea! Mumbling under his breath, he tried to go back. Unfortunately, as he did so, his footpaw suddenly slipped and the squirrel let out a terrified squeak before plummeting down to the ground.

  Dyemhar jumped back, quickly pointing his sabre earthward as a beast fell from the overhanging trees. A second later and the... squirrel would have been impaled on his blade. As it stood, he likely had several bruises, if he was lucky. Swapping sabre for dagger, the captain took a pawful of the treejumper's shirt and dragged him upright, glaring menacingly as he did a quick check to make sure the beast wasn't too badly injured. He didn't appear to be.
  "Well, well, well, what have we here? A young spy, is it?"

Robert shook his head a few times. The fall had dazed him somewhat.

"W-what?" he stammered, registering the vermin's words. "Me, a spy? N-n-no, sir!"

  Mharbrow shook his head, taking a length of light rope from his belt and binding the squirrel's paws together.
  "That's what they all say. Regardless, you'll be staying for tea. Name?"

Robert wiggled his paws a bit, seeing how tight his bonds were. He cursed inwardly. Bloody corsairs and their knots. He looked up at Mharbrow. "W-what's your name first?" Old Tom had always said to never give an inch to vermin - the very act would only encourage them.

  Mharbrow let a small smile grace his features. Impudent little fluff tail. It wasn't exactly what the captain wanted to hear, but he had to admire his bravery. The beast was clearly young and probably quite scared, but he wasn't going to show it.
  "They call me Cap'n Dyemhar."

The squirrel blinked. Did the vermin actually just answer his question instead of running him through? His confidence boosted a little, the woodlander said, "M-my name is Robert." He looked around. "What do you plan to do with me?"

  The captain's smile vanished without a trace as he gave the squirrel a light poke with his dagger, not hard enough to pierce the skin but firm enough to remind the beast to stay respectful. He gestured to a large tree at the edge of camp, near Belladonna's stretcher.
  "That remains to be seen. For now, you're going to sit nicely beside that tree and be very quiet. See that vixen, there? She doesn't like squirrels, at all. She's also in a bit of pain, which makes her grumpy. Disturb her and you'll wish you were never born."

Robert bobbed his head. "Alright, sir," he said. Robert's breath stopped for a heartbeat as he caught sight of his dagger lying on the ground barely a whisker away from him. It must've fallen from his belt in his fall. He slowly stepped on it, hiding it from view. "I hurt myself in the fall..." he said, bending down and pretending to rub his lower footpaw. "Do you have a healer?"

(OOC: Robert is going to try to grab it and maybe hide it in his shirt or something.)

  Mharbrow glanced over at Belladonna, who appeared to have finally gone to sleep.
  "I do have a healer but... I don't think it would be a good idea to disturb her right now. You don't appear to be badly hurt, so you should be able to wait a while. Pass your footpaw over here and I'll have a look at it."
  He'd watched Belladonna at work hundreds of times, surely it couldn't be too hard, though why he was willing to help his prisoner was a mystery to him. Maybe it had something to do with the squirrelmaid who had saved them at the village.
  Shrugging the matter aside, the fox bent down and gently grabbed the young beast's footpaw.

"Ah, ah, ah! On second thought, it's fine!" Robert flailed his paws in the air, firmly keeping his foot planted on the knife.

  The captain lifted an eyebrow, his paw still around the beast's ankle.
  "Are you sure? It might be something serious."
  Now that the squirrel was making a big deal about it, Mharbrow was curious as to what he was up to. He seemed to be hiding something.

"I'd rather not have some uncivilized brute - er," he coughed, "Th-that is, uncivilized beast mess around with my wound. Really, I'm fine!" Robert's brain seemed to be pulling in multiple directions at once as he tried to think of something. "Ah, c-captain, I have a confession to make."

(OOC: @Masika sorry for the delay)

Firestripe let out a wide grin at the pair.  "Wonderful then.  Our campsite isn't far from here actually; I was just checking the perimeter when I came across you two.  This way."  He said, gesturing for Maut and Veach to follow him.  After a short walk, he pushed through some brush and found himself back in the camp with a scene he hadn't been expecting playing out before him.  There was a squirrel, of all creatures, now amongst them, and the captain was... grabbing at the creatures ankle?  A bemused expression plastered across his face, the large fox strode up from behind the squirrel and peered over the beasts shoulder down at the captain.

"So, uh, captain... did you make a new friend here?  So did I."

Maut took in the group. There was a convalescent vixen off to the side, a stoat, a few rats, and some kinda marten digging graves, a Long Patrol hare in the group, and a green fox grabbing a bound squirrel's footpaw.

"Well, this is somethin', eh Veach?"

The stoat knew something was off with the squirrel, but he wasn't going anywhere near there, figuring it was a lot safer beside Maut.

Oh Hellgates the fox wanted him to fight now? Whyyyy? He had plenty of other fighting beasts around did he have too? But the look in his eyes made it obvious that there was no choice here. So Tul started to get up. Assuming that the fox just didn't want him to be a liability of a fight should break out. Give the rat a bit of spine so if the time called for it he could swing and likely be a bit more loyal to those that trained him.

Or something.

Before a Squirrel almost impaled himself on the sword that was being offered to him. Tul mostly just staring but staying where he was at this played out. Especially after the huge fox showed back up. Best not to cause a scene as he and Tormbo just watched this from the sidelines.

  Belladonna's ear twitched and she half opened one eye. Why did everybeast have to be so loud? she asked herself irritably. Her other eye opened completely and she propped herself up on one elbow to survey the small crown gathered around Captain Dyemhar. There were several beasts she didn't recognise, including a fox, a stoat and a squirrel of all things. Her head began to ache and she opened her mouth to snap at them all to shut up. However, the vixen remembered Mharbrow reaction last time she had spoken to him like that and took a deep breath.
"Will somebeast please stop nattering long enough to tell me what's going on?" she demanded, trying to keep her voice even.

  Mharbrow transferred his grip back to Robert's collar, letting out a tired sigh. He really needed some sleep, as did the rest if the crew. Everybeast was worn out, physically and mentally.
  "You could say that. This squirrel was spying on us, for some reason. Probably employed by the Long Patrol, but he keeps denying that he was spying at all, so that's no help. Regardless, we can't let him go and report back to whoever he's working for, so he's staying. Who're your friends?"
  He'd have a chat with the squirrel later, in a bit more privacy. Apparently there were more strangers that needed to be dealt with.
  Not looking at the vixen, Dyemhar gave her a brief summary of what appeared to have happened.
  "I've caught a squirrel spy, Keelteeth's navigator has agreed to join the crew and Firestripe found some visitors. You need rest. Go back to sleep and we'll try to keep the noise down."

"The name's Maut," the silver fox introduced himself. "This 'ere's Veach." He indicated to the stoat at his side. "We're mercenaries. We were looking fer a new job when we stumbled inta Firestripe."

  Mharbrow gave Maut a grim smile, holding his left paw out to the other fox, his right paw taken up with holding his prisoner.
  "Ah, so I assume he's recruited you, then? Excellent! I'm Captain Mharbrow PhantomPaint, but you can call me Cap'n Dyemhar. We've been rather out of luck as of late. I'm glad to see things looking up."
  While the captain spoke, he studied both creatures up and down. They looked fit enough and didn't seem too shifty, though the stoat had a more vacant expression than the average beast and it was strange that he walked on all fours.

Maut shook his paw. "Well, then it's prob'ly good we ran inta ya, then!" he said with a grin. "Me an' Veach here have been over most alla Mossflower, and even int' the Northlands a few times, though this is the closest we've ever been to Salamandastron. Might be able t' introduce ya to other recruits."

While the surrounding creatures weren't focused on him, Robert sat down, tucking his knees up to his chest and continued to rub his footpaw as if it was sore. His eyes darted around, then the squirrel leaned forward, quietly sliding the knife into his jacket. He winced as he waited to see if his movement had been spotted, continuing to rub his foot.

In the nearby bushes, Greeneye and Silvertongue had seen more than enough.

The rat shook his head, a grim look on his face. "Aye, let's get the blazes outta here." Greeneye said, starting to put his cutlass away.

"I couldn't agree mo- woah!" As Silvertongue had been stepping back, his foot caught in an upturned root. The fox crashed to the ground, his lute slipping out of his knapsack and clattering louldy against the earth.

  Mharbrow didn't have to call out any orders as Sliteye, Tormbo and Rangfur lept into action, weapons appearing in their paws as they moved swiftly to the bushes, quickly locating the source of the noise.
  "Wha' are ye doin' 'ere?"
  The three corsairs didn't wait for an answer to Sliteye's question. They fell upon the two beasts, aiming to stun or disable them, rather than kill. The vermin may have been spying on them, but maybe they could be persuaded to join them. At the very least, Dyemhar would want to question them.

Greeneye jumped back, cutlass in paw. "Aye, I'll gut the lot of ye!"

Silvertongue was still on his back, and he was unable to recover before being set upon. "Hey, hey your filthy paws off the cape!"

  Sliteye dragged the fox upright and held his blade to the beast's neck, smiling grimly at the creature's companion.
  "Sure ye will. Make a wrong move and I'll sep'rate yer friend from 'is 'ead."
  Rangfur and Tormbo stood either side of the weasel, blades in paw as they waited for the rat's response.

Idly rubbing his paws gently against his wrists which he quickly abandoned as it was making both areas more sore Tul was mostly just watching this play out now. He was part of the crew. So that was good. But he had a feeling he still had a lot to prove. So he needed to be on the straight and narrow for awhile. Right. Not get into any trouble. So he took a few steps over and plopped himself on a log to be in view of his new Cap'n and watch the scene currently unfolding. This camp sure was proving popular with Mossflowers residents.

Greeneye looked between the two creatures, and his friend Silvertongue, before shaking his head and holding his cutlass up. "Ye can kill that airheaded dunce fer all I care, I'll still flay the lot of yas."

"Uh, he doesn't speak for me!" Silvertongue spoke up. "We surrender!"

The rat started to object, but he stopped when the fox lightly shook his head. Greeneye sighed and he slowly sheathed his cutlass.

"Silver, yeh bumblin' dummy." He growled under his breath.

  Sliteye made a motion with his head and Rangfur obligingly moved forwards, taking a cord of rope from his belt as he moved behind the rat and dragged the beast's paws behind his back.
  "Some sort o' friend ye ah. Tormbo, ye kin take th' fox. 'E kin keep 'is paws free fer now, but don't let 'im cause trouble. Back ter camp with both of 'em."
  Shoving the two captives ahead, Tormbo and Rangfur slipped back into camp, Sliteye following and exchanging a brief nod with the captain.
  "Yew to watch 'em wit' a sharp blade. Th' Cap'n's busy. 'E'll talk to 'em when 'e's available."
  Mharbrow let a slight smile flit across his face. Competent crew members were such a blessing.
  "Tulian, come over here and listen to what I have to say. As you can see, Maut, my crew are not dunderheads. I've had a few stupid crewmembers in the past, but they didn't last long. We go through a lot and the ones that need to be given orders to block a thrust from an enemy are finished off fairly fast. My crew can fight and think. You need to be able to do the same if you're to be a part of it."
  Turning back to the squirrel, the fox captain gestured for him to stand.
  "Up you get, lazybones. My prisoners don't sit around in the middle of the clearing either. We've got a nice big pit to bury you in if your paw is giving you that much trouble."

"Watch the hook, I wouldn't want ye teh cut yerself." Greeneye sneered as he was tied up. The rats left hand-paw was missing, instead replaced by a sharp metal hook.

Silvertongue just held his paws awkwardly behind his back. "My friend here was probably just bluffing, he wouldn't have let me die." He turned back as he was shoved towards the camp. "Can one of you fellows grab that instrument back there?"

"Damnit, Silver, that damned gee-tar of yers isn't important right now!"

"For the last time, Green, it's a lute!" The fox shifted about nervously as he continued to look back.

The two of them seemed to be ignoring the other creatures around them.

  Sliteye paused, glancing behind him, then back at the fox, one eyebrow lifted.
  "Yer a musician, huh? Fascinating."
  The weasel swallowed as the two captives' argument brought back a cascade of memories that he'd done his best to bury. His mate had been the musician aboard Bladewave,  before it had gone down. She'd have tanned his hide if he left a good instrument like that to rot in the dirt. Making an about turn, the weasel jogged back and retrieved the lute, carrying it back to its rightful owner and pawing it to the fox.
  "She's a beauty, mate. Any good at using 'er?"

"Well forgive us, Captain," Maut said, "but it seemed like yer crew already had et handled."

"Aye Cap'n!" Tul quickly hopping to his feet and pattering over to stand next to the fox and the new arrivals. Need to make a good showing after all to stop himself being punished. Though as the little spiel continued Tul started to look more and more nervous. Like it was all directed at him...Tapping his fingers together as he moved to the side in case the prisoners were moved past as he thought about it some more.

Sure his swordplay was bad but he wasn't useless? Right? They had no ship anymore so didn't need to navigate...that was bad. But he was great at directions and land knowledge...right? Looking more and more concerned for his own continued existence as his mind dug itself deeper.

"Any good? Am I any GOOD?" Silvertongue seemed offended as he cradled his instrument. "Am I not named Silvertongue? Are my ballads not sung through the great forests? Across the mighty seas?"

"Ah, shite, now ye've gotten 'im started." Greeneye rolled his eye.

The fox then proceeded to strike a pose, puffing his chest out as he started to strum at the lute, each flick of his fingers producing a rousing tune as he sang out.

"All through the land, many shall hear,
Of my glorious tales, if they just lend an ear!
The tales of today, tomorrow and more,
I'll sing my heart out, or at least 'til I'm sore!"

His rat companion winced. "He really won't stop singin until his throat can't take it no more. Could ye at least knock 'im out?"

  Mharbrow let the edges of his lips curl upwards in amusement at the fox's indignation, his smile increasing as Sliteye gave his answers to the rhetorical questions.
  "'Ow am I s'posed te know yer name was Silvertongue? Ye 'adn't interduced yerself an' I've never 'eard yer ballads. An' I've bin on both land an' sea."
  The fox captain found himself tapping his paw to the lively beat of the song, despite his usual aloofness with such things. He chuckled and made his way into the conversation when the rat asked to have his friend knocked out.
  "No, sorry. I'd like to chat with you two and I need you both conscious. Thank you, Sliteye. You're dismissed. Please check on how the graves are going and report to me once they're done."
  Sliteye nodded and hurried away to do as he was told, throwing a backwards grin at Silvertongue. Mharbrow took a seat and let his smile drop into a void of deadly seriousness.
  "You have two options..."

~Blah, blah, an amount of time has passed~

  "Cap'n, the graves is dug."
  Mharbrow rose to his footpaws, giving the fox and the rat a friendly smile.
  "Maybe you'd like to see what happens to beasts who don't make the right choice. Come watch."
  The captain's voice rose to address everybeast in the camp.
  "Time to bury our dead. Gather 'round."
  The crew members obliged, new and old. Sliteye, in the absence of his mate, recited the verse for the comrades they'd lost, then the captive members of Keelteeth, under the watchful eyes of Fret and Grunt lowered the bodies down carefully.
  Mharbrow nodded, then held his paw up in a gesture to stop as spades were picked up to shovel dirt back into the holes.
  "Hang on a moment, there's some other business to attend to first. For all the seasons I've been a pirate, I have never let a vanquished enemy survive. That is not about to change now."
  With a lightning flick of his wrist, the fox captain revealed the dagger in his paw and buried it into the neck of Garavito, yanking it free of the dead ermine as he gurgled his way into the grave he had been standing beside. Dyemhar looked around at the shocked faces of the now captainless crew and his new recruits, his eyes burning with an intensity not foreign to the beasts who'd served him for seasons.
  "Everybeast here has two choices: Follow Garavito or follow me. Which is it?"
  Silence, then one of the prisoners, a mink, stepped forward, lifting his spade to strike the closest of his enemies, backed up by two of his comrades. None of them lived to take another breath as they found themselves staring down the blades of Fret, Grunt and Rangfur, then their dead bodies were cast into the pits they'd dug with contempt. Mharbrow nodded, then met the eyes of each of the other beasts, crew and captive alike.
  "Anybeast else? ... No? Alright, fill in the graves and be done with this business. If anybeast would like to change his mind, I'm always available for a chat. In the meantime, set up camp. We'll be here until Belladonna is fit to move, at least. Keep an eye on the squirrel, the hare and the musician and his friend."
  Turning away, the captain approached Belladonna's bed, reassuring himself that she was asleep before disappearing into the trees. Time to find some moss and a few flowers.

~Blah, blah, more time passes, sorry for slight powerplaying, Eb~

  Mharbrow crept into camp, nodding to the beast on watch, eyes scanning the clearing to make sure everything was in order. The young squirrel shifted in his sleep, shivered and then settled down. Everybeast else remained how they were, be it asleep or awake. Not far from the bushtail was Belladonna's stretcher. She was awake, the fox saw, recognising the tight jaw of teeth clenched to keep from making noise from the pain.
  Making his way through the sleeping forms of his crew, Mharbrow approached the vixen and crouched down by her bed, whispering softly as he pressed the peace offering into her paw.
  "What do you need?"
  The vixen opened an eye, looking down at the pawful of plant matter and smiling despite her pain.
  "Exactly that. Thank you."
  Moving the stringy bark to her mouth, she began to chew it, her eyes beginning to close as her pain eased and exhaustion took over, barely registering the captain's explanation.
  "I couldn't find the right kind of moss, but that bark looked useful anyway. Goodnight."
  The fox gave a sigh of satisfaction and peace and, finding a spot, settled down to rest, glad in the knowledge things were sorting themselves out. The Long Patrol had promised to leave them alone, they had an expert forager and his most recent enemy was dealt with. Things were looking up.

Maut, who was keeping watch, nodded back to Mharbrow.
Veach was pacing one edge of the encampment, and thus saw the captain deliver the healer her medicine. He watched Mharbrow, just out of weapon's reach.

Watching the few that remained of his former crew quickly get cut down and kicked into the grave or join up was a new experience for Tul! Often he was just shifted to a new crew back out on the sea but then again Pirates really taking captives and not just slaves was rare too. So here he and a scant few others were. Closely watched new crew members before they proved their worth. Tul currently poking at the remains of the food the crew had managed to get before nightfall. Before he finally gave up and laid back on some piled up grass. Trying to settle his mind and rest.

-- Woooosh five days later --

Things had thankfully improved since the murder day. All the earth kept the smell away nicely and Tuls new crew haddn't danced on the graves too much and had mainly worked on setting up make shift dwellings and cooking facilities to make their foraging and hunting more successful. Tul himself had spent those days being quickly brought up to speed on the basics of swordfighting and had gotten himself a long mostly sharp dagger to wear around. As well as several small cuts and nicks over his arms and ear from the crew so nicely teaching him how to fight. But he was feeling better as he added some fuel to the cooking fire. He wasn't so much of a burden anymore!

And better yet he had heard that the healer vixen was almost ready to move! Move too he wasn't sure yet. The food around the forest and the dunes wern't the worst but they were safe here. Perhaps the Captain would like to move more inland in search of easier pickings? Hard to tell and Tul was far from the captain to make that decision.

Besides, the dune rovers should be back soon with news. Maybe they spotted that crab again. Hopefully it haddnt nabbed anymore.

Though the dune rovers likely also spotted a ship, a ship many of them could see wasn't a happy Hedgehog trader, that was also approaching the shoreline...

  Belladonna glanced around to make sure nobeast was watching before she took a deep breath and sat up, easing her legs over the side of the stretcher and carefully straightening up. A spasm of pain shot through her side and her paw flew to the healing wound, her jaw tightening as she took a slow step forward, then another. She felt her confidence surge and she decided she would make it to the cooking fire, have a quick rest and then go back to her bed.
  The vixen looked around for somebeast to share her triumph, wanting to prove that she would not be a hindrance for much longer. She grasped Sliteye's forearm as he passed her.
  "Where's Mharbrow? Have you seen him recently?"

  Sliteye, on his way to chat with Silvertongue and maybe hear a song or two, stopped and gave Belladonna a broad smile, his yellowed teeth showing as he stopped to answer the vixen's question.
  "Constellatuns on th' walkin', mate. I think th' Cap'n's talkin' te Maut or somethin'. Nice fox, that. 'Ave yew noticed 'is funny talk when nobeast 'cept Veach kin 'ear 'im? Dunno what it means, but it sounds like a strange language. If ye ask me..."
  Sliteye trailed off as he realised Belladonna wouldn't care what he thought of the fox or his companion.
  "Oh, right. 'E's on th' other side o' camp, just 'side the big sycamore yonder. 'Ave fun wid yer conservation."
  Sliteye trundled off, lute under arm as he continued on his way.

(OOC: Mharbrow was about as appreciative as Greeneye about Silvertongue's constant singing, so he confiscated the lute and put it into Sliteye's safe keeping, as he knows how to look after instruments)

In the week following their capture, Greeneye and Silvertongue has remained at the camp. Greeneye refuses to leave without his friend, and Silvertongue refused to leave without his lute. They had both proven themselves to be somewhat useful, the fox being a sort of jack of all trades.

Not only could Silvertongue sing expertly, but he was a novice herbalist and could even write, given the proper materials. Greeneye had a mind for strategy, not to mention he was skilled in various forms of combat. The two of them were currently sitting near the middle of the camp, whispering to one another.

"Nothin' much t' report, Cap'n Dyemhar, least what ye prob'ly don't already know," Maut reported. "I think the Long Patrol 're watching us; been seeing somebeasts that look bunny-shaped. Mebbe they know we got one'a theirs. An' I think I seen some woodlanders, mebbe a hog, or a fat mole, but they're keepin' their distance, so I leave 'em be. They ain't botherin' us, so why give those flopears any reason t' come after us?" The silver fox glanced up at the night sky a brief moment. Most of the moon and stars were covered by clouds, and the wind was blowing hard. "Also, I think we might be in fer some rain soon."
Veach came up to the foxes, carrying a mouthful of moss.
"Veach, why in Vulpuz's name do ye got that?"
Veach's only response was to lift a hindpaw to scratch his ear.

  Belladonna nodded her thanks to Sliteye and changed direction to head towards the sycamore he had mentioned. She was in a unusually good mood, she thought to herself as she limped carefully along, her eyes searching out and finding Mharbrow. He was, as Sliteye had said, talking with one of the new crewmembers, the silver-furred fox. The vixen wracked her mind for his name but gave up as she neared them.
  Belladonna raised her paw to greet Mharbrow and instantly doubled over as her side twinged again. She stumbled forward a pace and placed a paw on his shoulder to keep from falling, quickly regaining her balance and standing erect.
  "Sorry, Captain," she apologised. "I didn't mean to interrupt like that."

  The captain nodded slowly, filing the information away. He had his doubts about the bulk of the Long Patrol party still being around and watching. Captain Cardilon would have no hesitation in attacking his camp if he knew they had another hare prisoner, even if Elgon did insist he was the most fearsome pirate in the world and could vanish like smoke on the breeze if he wanted to. The hares had the skill and numbers to do some proper damage, especially if they planned it right. Still, one or two hares could well have been told to keep an eye on them while the rest got back to work.
  As for regular woodlanders, it would make sense that they'd be around. There was a village fairly close and they hadn't all been slaughtered in the pirate attack. Still, the fact they were there didn't mean they were aware of his presence, or his whereabouts.
  "Definitely in for rain. It's looked like that for a good while. Belladonna, good to see you on your paws!"
  The green eyes of the fox smiled as he stood still, letting her stumble and catch herself on him. He knew she wouldn't appreciate too much help. He had a better chance of accepting assistance if he made it look like he wasn't trying to help her.
  "That's alright. We're basically finished here anyway."
  The captain rose from his space on the tree stump and nodded to Maut, then walked around the sycamore and ordered Tulian to get Maut and Veach their dinner, turning back to the creatures and nodding a dismissal to the two scouts before giving the redfurred vixen his full attention.
  "Thank you. Go get something to eat. Anything I can help you with, Belladonna?"

~Sliteye~

  Sliteye let a grin split his face as he took a seat beside Silvertongue, passing the lute to the fox and moving his paws up to catch the warmth of the fire in one, expertly smooth movement.
  "'Ow 'bout a song, matey? Wouldn't want yer te git out o' prac'ice. Do ye know Th' Blind Ole Seal?"

  Belladonna shrugged. "I guess. I'm hoping to go on a herb forage tomorrow, and I was wondering if there's anybeast you could spare to help me. I'll need to take it slowly, and I don't know how far I'll have to go to find the herbs that I need. Chickweed, ideally, and marigold..." The vixen paused and indicated the handy tree stump Mharbrow had been sitting on a moment ago. "Mind if I sit down for a minute? I don't really want to go back to bed yet, but I don't think I can just stand around much longer."

  Mharbrow nodded at the request to use his seat, his thoughts on each of the crewbeasts as he considered which would be the best on to accompany the vixen. Sliteye had a basic knowledge of herbs already, but he had some other tasks to do. Probably Webneck would be the next best option.
  "Aye, go ahead. Standing's good for me anyway, all this land dwelling is giving me a belly." The captain gave his friend a wink, grinning at his own joke. In truth, he had never had problems with gaining weight in his life and food was sparse, so it didn't seem feasible in the near future. "You can take Webneck or Grunt tomorrow morning, whichever you prefer. Maybe even both, I don't care. Do take it easy, though. We should start moving again as soon as possible and that's not happening until you're ready."

  "Thank you, Captain," Belladonna smiled and looked up at the sky, amazed by the sheer multitude of stars. A thought struck her and she voiced it aloud, not moving her gaze from the constellations. "Where's Firestripe got to? I haven't seen him recently. Although, I haven't been up and about recently, so that might just be bad observation on my part."

  Mharbrow looked in the direction of the sea, then back at Belladonna.
  "He led a scouting party out towards shore. Should be coming back tonight or tomorrow morning."

Thankfully already tending to the fire as he had been heating up some of the days soup for the night watchers Tul gave a quick salute and an 'A'ye 'ye ca'pn!'. Before starting to shift and move about to eventually get two pots going over the fire. Stirring them gently as the smell started to seep around the camp. It smelled like leak soup. Not the most filling or the best but hey it was food and something they had. Something they didnt need to stab a mouse for. So excellent!

Setting the one for the night shift on a rock to cool as he headed over to the group with the small pot of soup for Maut and Veach. Nodding at the two with a smile as he held out the stick the pot was hung on.

"Ah' 'ope ta' oh'k we'th js'st 'ta pa't. Bo'ols kn'da sk'nt 'ere."
(I hope your ok with just the pot, bowls are kind of skink here)

Silvertongue took the lute from Sliteye, plucking the strings of it. "The Blind Ole Seal, aye? I think your Dad liked that one, didn't he?" The fox turned to Greeneye, only to see him storming away. "Oh, wait. Green! Gree, I'm sorry!"

Silvertongue sighed and shook his head. "Poor Green ended up killing his own dad. He's a bit sensitive about it. Now." He stood up and cleared his throat. "A song!"

Silvertongue started to sing the tune requested, tapping his feet on the ground and twirling about.

Maut raised a brow at Tulian's accent, but thankfully understood most of what the rat said. "Thanks, mate. Veach, spit that out." Maut took the pot and ate straight from the ladle.
The stoat dropped the moss, and plunged his face right into the ladle of soup Maut held in front of him.
The silver fox chuckled and shook his head. "Veach, you pig."

(Faclan, I think you meant scant. Skinks are lizards. And before anyone asks, someone likened Cap'n Slipp & Blaggut's table manners to pigs in an official novel.)

In the night, a caw as harsh as the scrape of sharp claws against chalkrock reverberates through the darkness. A cloud from the black fabric of the sky detaches itself from its course, descending downwards.

Another caw comes forth, this more urgent and more harsh. The falling cloud is no longer a cloud but a winged creature.
Black feathers are its mantle, not wisps of midnight and choking smoke. The cold air is no enemy of this bird, as she caws uproariously, circling in the air above a fire in the blackness.

As the wind shifts in whim, so does this crow shift in control. Now not a deft rider of the sky, she comes down to the earth in an inelegant mixture between flying, shuffling and twitching.

But she lands, and stands tall as she approaches the fire. Unafraid, seemingly, and undaunted, she raises her wings as she caws.

"Caw! I am she, Caw! Who are ye, drinkers and wanderers?"

(Is this alright? I intend for Caw to approach @Masika, @Shy-Guy and @Faclan)

Veach jumped and spun around to face the crow, snarling, as Maut immediately got to his footpaws, his paw on his sword's hilt. "Should be askin' the same of you, crow," the silver fox said lowly.

"I already cawed my name, ye! Caw, known as Bellybeak by some and Tealeaf by others. I am neither pleased nor ruffled to make your acquaitance."

Caw opens her wings wider, meeting black eyes with Maut.

"Snarling? Not with your fangs! I have wares for your dirty teeth, stoat, but for a price!"

If a bird could grin with unrivalled splendour, Caw would be doing that very well.

(I meant skint, as in not much or many available)

Tul would thumbs up at the thanks and go back to stirring the pot in case any other beast wanted some. The smell nothing stellar but hey food was food when you didnt have much. The rats tail and ears start to flick and wriggle at the music being played as he sighed. Remembering the times of the sea - wondering if they were ever coming back. Before he was nearly flattened by a gust of wind of something large and air filled landed near them.

As the smallest breed of vermin Tul was shoved off the stool and thankfully not rolled over by the hot soup pot as it remained on its stand. But when he looked up it would be fairly clear what he thought of what he saw.

"Ne'i! Ne'i! Ta' mess'e'veh be'rd! Sa' ee'tms!" (No! No! The Massive Bird! Gona Eat us!)

Before he scrambled away and was soon hiding behind a tree. Peaking out at Caw and the others.

  Belladonna's paws gripped the edge of the stump as the inky bird landed by the fire. Her breath caught in her throat and she forced herself to breathe deeply. The vixen could not stand large birds. She carefully maneuvered herself to crouch behind the stump, one paw clenched around the hilt of her dagger.
  "What is that thing doing here?" she growled softly, the fear seeming to shake her voice before it escaped from her.

"She's a traderbeast, obviously," Maut grumbled. "Worse than anythin', 'ceptin' maybe an angry badger. They come t' peddle junk, an' they refuse t' leave ya alone 'till ya show 'em steel." The silver fox leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Course, she could always provide dinner. Never eaten a bird, mesself, but I hear they're s'posed t' be good eatin'." He grinned and winked at the vixen.

  Mharbrow allowed himself a smirk at Maut's idea, chuckling and shaking his head as he moved forward to greet the bird.
  "No, we'd better at least pretend we don't know what she wants."
  Moving forward, the captain held a paw out to the creature, not showing deference or aggression until she chose one of the options.
  "Good day. What can I help you with?"

Greeneye eyed the bird warily. "I don't care what ye does with it, just keep it away from me foot."

Silvertongue sat up, looking over. "We could perhaps get some information from them." He mused, rubbing his chin. "With a trade of sorts."

OOC: Ahem, Ash has disappeared, so I don't think we'll receive a reply in that quarter. What do y'all think of going back to before Tealeaf arrived, and potentially doing a short time skip to where Firestripe gets back and Belladonna is moving a bit more comfortably? I really enjoyed this RP and I would be quite sad if it died.

OOC: Agreed. I will try to come back and post in this RP if it gets revived.

Tul would thumbs up at the thanks and go back to stirring the pot in case any other beast wanted some. The smell nothing stellar but hey food was food when you didnt have much. The rats tail and ears start to flick and wriggle at the music being played as he sighed. Remembering the times of the sea - wondering if they were ever coming back. But the bubbling of the soul and nearly burning his stirring paw as it dipped from his musings quickly brought him back to reality. There would be no benefit of thinking of what could have been now. He was in the situation he was in as were the others. They just needed to work together and do what they could now.

Giving the soup a sniff he nodded and added in a few more of the basic herbs they had gathered today.

"Ta' so'ps all'mast' r'dy." He would speak at a slightly louder than normal volume to the beasts still up. Those sentries needed a warm pick me up as did the injured he suspected.

  Sliteye grinned as the familiar tune began, tapping his paws enthusiastically, prepared to join in with the chorus, when the time came.

OOC: I figure we don't have a huge amount to say at the moment, so I'll just begin the timeskip now, before I'm obliged to make lyrics for The Blind Ol' Seal.

BIC:
  "Cap'n! Firestripe's comin' back! 'E looks to be in need of 'elp."
  Mharbrow looked up at the report.
  "Then give him help. You can get together a party well enough, Sliteye. You can take Tulian. I think he's had enough of sword fighting for one day."
  Sliteye grinned and slapped the rat's back good naturedly.
  "Harhar, mate. 'Ad some fun with the Cap'n? Didja beat 'I'm? Get up, ye lousy louses! 'Urry up!"
  Many beasts were already getting up to help, having heard that Firestripe was finally returning, hopefully with some news, and a bit of food. In short order, Sliteye had a raggly bunch as organised as they'd get, and he marched them towards the shore.

  Firestripe made a quick headcount as his party filed into the forest, leaning against a tree in exhaustion. Pawsteps and the clank of running beasts alerted him to possible danger, and he straightened, sword in paw. The three beasts left in one piece from his party also drew weapons and stood ready, their injured and the two prisoners they'd taken in the middle of the circle.
  The fox relaxed as he recognised his own crewmates. Sliteye nodded, grinning.
  "Need some 'elp, eh? Good to see yer back alive, matey."
  The two groups clasped paws and exchanged greetings, then Sliteye's crew slung the wound over their shoulders and moved behind Firestripe. Sliteye pawed Tulian a spear and nodded to the rat.
  "You 'elp with th' prisoners, mate, an' keep an eye on them crewbeasts. Make sure they don't drop dead from tiredness."
  The weasel laughed raucously, and the party trudged off for camp.

OOC: Sorry it's short, but this should get the ball rolling. I'm away at the moment, and role-playing on my phone is not ideal. I'll edit when I get home if need be.

Thankfully not completely fumbling the spear as it was handed to him Tul just nodded and tried to focus. He wasn't the prisoner this time which was good but it made him feel bad that he was now going what he had hated the others for doing to him so shortly before. And they looked miserable. Not at all helping his emotions about the whole thing as he gently prodded one of them with the spear haft.

"R...ra'ght up. Sa' on'ly a' l'l be't ta' cm'p. Ta' ca'n m'ke it." He encouraged. Trying to be at the back to assist those in going on. Trying to use his paws to help them up and keep up with the words. Though it was unlikely any of them were really understanding him.

One of the two prisoners was Nyisha, first mate to Ulrik. The lynx was covered in scars, most of them fresh. Despite this, the lynx clearly had fire in her eyes and glared at Tulian and Sliteye as though the only thing stopping her from tearing them to pieces was the ropes binding her paws behind her back.

  Mharbrow watched as the beasts filed into camp. Sliteye set about organising the prisoners into secure spaces, checking and removing any weapons, while they waiting crew leapt up to help the wounded. It was a good thing Belladonna was fetching more herbs, because she'd likely need them.
  The captain gave his first mate a pat on the back and a bowl of stew. Grunt had taken down a plump crow the night before, and it had tasted surprisingly good, especially with a few spices and some of the vegetables they'd been able to find.
  "You look a fright. Eat first, then you can make your report."
  Firestripe took the food gratefully, shoveling the warm, thick gravy into his mouth. It hadn't been an easy few days.
  "Ulrik's here. There's his first mate. He's not following us, but he has a big force and he seems to be setting up residence on land. We can't take him as we are, and he's not going to just let us be. I don't know what you want to do, but we need to do it soon."
  Mharbrow looked up at the bigger beast thoughtfully, his face creased in concern at the news.
  "Hmm... I'll think on it. We'll ask Belladonna when she returns. Two heads are better than one... Have some more stew and get some rest. We'll at least need an hour for her to tend the wounded, and you may as well get some sleep."
  Firestripe nodded, scooping another generous portion of stew into his bowl.
  "Yes, Cap'n."

  Belladonna shoved a pawful of dock leaves into her pouch and ran her gaze along the far bank of the fast-flowing stream. She spotted an evening primrose plant flowering beside a small elder bush and instantly began casting around for a way to ford the small torrent. The vixen rummaged in the undergrowth and pulled out a long straight branch; dead, but still fairly sturdy. Belladonna made sure her pouch was secure, took a run up and launched herself out across the water, thrusting the pole into the streambed.
  She had overestimated the extent of her recovery, however, and just past the middle of the stream her grip loosened and she lost her hold on the branch. The cold water, made icy by her panic, clutched at her legs as she scrabbled to climb the far bank.
  "Are you alright, Belladonna?" Grunt called nervously, conscious of the fact that he could well get the blame for anything that happened to the healer.
  Belladonna flung herself onto the flat ground above the rushing water and bit back the angry reply that sprang to her lips. The rat was concerned for her safety, even if the reason was selfish and the question stupid.
  "Yes, I'm fine. I just-" she flinched and doubled up, her paw flying to her mostly-healed wound. "I'm fine." The vixen straightened and swiftly gathered all the evening primrose and elderflowers her pouch could hold. "Right, now to come back over."
  "The branch is snagged just over there," Grunt suggested helpfully, pointing downstream a little.
  "Hmm. Well, if I die, you can console him that it was for a good cause."
 

Maut happened to overhear Mharbrow and Firestripe. "If I might say somethin', Cap'n?"

  The captain's brow lowered into a frown. His more experienced crewbeasts had made a point of giving the captain and his officer space to let them talk in private, but the fox was new to his crew and he hadn't told anybeast to stay away.
  "I don't entirely appreciate your listening in to our private council, but if you have an idea, I may as well hear it. Go on."

"Apologies Cap'n, but I do happen to know of a few beasts we could recruit, further inland. There's a farming camp a bit further east, a mix of vermin and woodlander. There's also a bandit gang, about 30 beasts strong, but they don't stick to one place too long. Last I encountered 'em, they were about halfway to the mountains we're next to. An' of course, there's my hometown. 'bout a score o' beasts, some of 'em mercenaries."

  Mharbrow smiled at the beast. He was helpful, and not entirely brainless. Still, he had no idea what they were up against.
  "They'll be great additions, I'm sure, but Ulrik's crew is huge. We could take every vermin and mercenary in the near vicinity and he'd still have us outnumbered, and his beasts are experienced fighters. We'll send a few groups out to recruit beasts, and that'll be helpful, but we're not going to be able to face Ulrik in the open."
  Glancing up at the sun's position, the fox frowned. Belladonna had been gone long enough to get what she needed, but she hadn't come back yet. With the news Firestripe had brought, he didn't want to leave anybeast alone too long.
  "Sliteye, follow Belladonna's trail and make sure she's alright. Help her back here, and try not to leave too much clue of where you've gone."
  The weasel saluted and scurried off into the undergrowth, leaving the captain reassured. Sliteye was a capable beast. He'd bring the vixen back safely.

  Belladonna glanced across the stream at Grunt without moving her head. He was crouching awkwardly by the water, tossing in pebbles and twigs. She smiled inwardly and poked another stick into the fire she had built, sprinkling several more mint leaves into the small, bubbling pot nestled in the embers at the edge. The vixen's ears twitched and she sat up straighter as she heard somebeast approaching through the bushes.
  "Ah, Sliteye!" she called, and Grunt started in surprise, nearly toppling into the stream. "You can tell Captain Mharbrow that I'm living here now. I have crossed this river and thus chosen this spot to be my dwelling place. Farewell."

  Sliteye grinned, chuckling at the vixen's proclamation. He stopped at the edge of the bank and looked down into the fast flowing current. Turning to rummage in the undergrowth for a stick, the weasel replied.
  "Firestripe's back. 'E brought some intrestin' news, an' the Cap'n doesn't want anybeast strayin' too far from camp. I think I 'eard them mention Ulrik El-Dinbar."
  The beast used his acquired stick to leap the river and smiled at Belladonna.
  "Do ye still want to stay 'ere, or should we brave th' cold an' survive the savage?"

  Belladonna's expression lightened at the mention of Firestripe's safe return, then darkened at Ulrik's name. "I'll assume you didn't hear me just now over the roar of the water. This is my home now. I have no wish to die an icy death at the paws of a river." She pulled her pot from the fire and splashed some cold water on the outside to cool it. The vixen wrapped a swathe of her cloak around the pot to protect her paws and sipped the brew, pretending to ignore Sliteye.

  Sliteye frowned, sure of what needed to happen, but wanting to have the vixen's cooperation. His Captain had told him to make sure she got back safely, and he'd do it whether or not Belladonna wanted him to. Still, she was bigger than him, and he'd rather carry a beast across a body of water while she wasn't struggling.
  "I don't think it's that cold. Th' Cap'n told me te bring ye back safely. I'll carry ye across, though I 'spose ye kin finish yer tea first."

  "Don't even think about it, weasel. It's freezing, and I very much doubt you can lift me." Belladonna took a sip of her tea. "I'll get myself across the river, using that stick you helpfully brought over. But if you really want to be useful, you can carry my bag."
  She stood up and emptied the rest of the tea over the fire, making the flames hiss, then held out her paw for Sliteye's stick.

With the prisoners sat down Tulian was soon back in the main corsair land home camp settlement thing they had going on. And was currently in the process of slicing up vegetables and other ground grown food. At least his former map maker paws made him pretty decent at this as he was going at a good speed. They weren't all uniform but with how many mouths they soon had to feed with all the new prisoners and, if his big rodent ears didn't deceive him, potentially new recruits - it wasn't like they would notice the carrot slice in their soup was smaller or bigger than anyone elses.

So the rat hummed along to himself as he worked. Trying to keep his mind occupied so he didn't look at the prisoners too much. Or wonder if the hares or some other mean beastie would find them.

  Sliteye nodded and gave the vixen his stick, taking the bag and grinning agreeably.
  "If ye say so. Let's git back an' report to th' Cap'n, eh? Anythin' else ye need, or is it straight 'ome?"


~

  Mharbrow frowned, glancing into the trees as he paced. They couldn't afford to lose his navigator and healer. He considered sending some more beasts out to look for her, but dismissed the idea. Sliteye would bring her back, and if he didn't, sending more beasts out to look for her wouldn't benefit-
  A twig snapped, and he heard Grunt's greeting to the perimeter guard. A few moments later, the three beasts came into camp, Sliteye saluting with his usual, casual grin. He was absolutely soaked, and shivering slightly, but he seemed happy, as usual.
  "'Ere she is, Cap'n, safe'n sound."
  The captain smiled despite himself, dismissing the weasel.
  "Thank you. Go get dry. Belladonna, can we talk now, or do you have things to do first. Tulian, get Belladonna and Grunt some food."

  Belladonna passed her bag, full of herbs and useful plants, to the rat. "Grunt, put this by my bedroll. Take a pawful of skullcap and rosemary and make some tea for the captain and I, will you?" She turned to Mharbrow. "I can talk now, if you like. How's Firestripe?"

  "Firestripe's exhausted, but he's alive, and he brought some prisoners. I'm not sure if Sliteye told you, but Ulrik El-Dinbar is here. Curse that bloodthirsty demon! He's setting up on land, with a large force. Taking out villages and recruiting the survivors as slaves. I don't know if he's aware of our presesnce, but he soon will be. Whatever we do, we need to do it soon. Any ideas?"
  The captain wasn't sure there was anything they could do. At least the arrival of a larger force of pirates on their shores would deter The Long Patrol's attention, hopefully. He glanced over to where Elgon was sitting, chatting amiably with the squirrel. If Belladonna didn't have any ideas, he'd open up to suggestions from the crew. The hare was young, but was also a warrior. Mharbrow wasn't opposed to asking him for suggestions either. Maybe if it was a good solution, it would earn the beast his freedom.

  Belladonna's face settled into a cold stony glare as she thought of the brutally cruel corsair king. She hated the stoat with every fibre of her being. The vixen forced herself to push Ulrik from her mind and focus on a course of action. She glanced around the camp at the four prisoners and the severely depleted crew.
  "Only twelve," she murmured. "Fifteen counting you, me and Firestripe. And Ulrik has how many beasts with him?"
  Mharbrow exhaled between his teeth. "Sixty at the very least," he guessed. "He could have hundreds."
  Belladonna bit her lower lip. "Mharbrow," she whispered. "We don't stand a chance." She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her paw to her forehead. "I can't do it, not again. Not again."

  Mharbrow nodded agreement, wrapping a paw around the vixen's shoulder and giving her a light squeeze.
  "I know. I can't either. That's why we're going to find some way to beat him. Maut said he knew of some beasts who could be recruited, but they won't be enough. We may have to join with some of the woodlanders to fight him off. I just hope the Long Patrol are too wrapped up in him to mind us, because we'll need to gather a large force to face him."

  Belladonna lifted her head suddenly and met Mharbrow's gaze, reckless fire burning in her eyes. "We could join them." she said. "We could join with the Long Patrol and send Ulrik to hellgates, even if it means personally escorting him there."

  Mharbrow was speechless for several long seconds, his mouth opening to respond, then closing again. When he did respond, his voice was angry.
  "Don't you remember that hare captain, Belladonna? He almost killed you, and if he sees us again, he will. The promise of a Long Patrol Hare is never broken. Do you really think I'll put you and the rest of the crew straight into the fire?"

  Belladonna flinched at her captain's tone but remained resolute. "I think you will if it means getting revenge. We will never really be safe until Ulrik is dead. You know that." She ran her eyes around the camp once more. "And besides, we have one of their hares. If we arrive with a hostage and demand to talk, they can hardly refuse us."

  Mharbrow rubbed his head, struggling with the decision. Belladonna was right in one area, at least: Until Ulrik was dead, they would continue to be hunted. As they were, they'd be hungry, tired and running from the savage pirate, but if they joined with The Long Patrol, they'd be dead.
  "If we arrive with a hostage, we'll be pincushions before we have time to notice we're there. You heard that hare captain; The squirrelmaid's death would be worth it if it meant we were all sent to Hellgates with her. They won't even hesitate to chop us to pieces. If you think they would, we could ask the hare. I'm sure he'll be able to assure us of our certain doom."
  The fox captain sighed, glancing over to where the long-legged creature sat, chatting with the squirrel. The Long Patrol were excellent fighters, but their main strength came in planning and discipline. Strategy was their life, or it seemed so.
  "Maybe we should ask Elgon anyway. Hares are good at planning these things. If he doesn't have anything useful to say, then we can just ignore him."

A quiet cough would alert the conversing foxes if they didnt hear Tulian approach. Two steaming bowls of soup held by him as he tried to smile at them both.

"Cap'n, n ma'm - sa' so'op fe'r ye." He explained as if it wasn't obvious as he held the bowls out to both creatures. And if neither were taken he would set them on a stump nearby before rubbing the back of his neck and looking down. "La'tas smoo'ke inn'i sk'i. Ta' pat'ral gun' be' ran'd so'nn." Biting his lip as he looked back up. "Shl'd wi' pre'pa're?" Hoping enough of that passing through his long seas accent for the two to pick it out. But their hushed conversation even if not overheard seemed to be raising tensions in the camp. Those that were not talking with Elgon after all who was getting a few laughs with all his jokes.

(Captain, and mam - some soup for you / lots of smoke in the sky. The patrol will likely be by soon. Should we prepare?)

(Hope thats ok with both of you.)

  Mharbrow stood and nodded to Tulian. It was about time somebeast interrupted their conversation, since they weren't getting anywhere further. He glanced over at Elgon. The hare was talking to Maut, ears and paws moving about expressively. The fox waited until the beast had stopped talking before calling him over.
  "Elgon, I'd talk with you. In fact, everybeast gather around. We have some important business to discuss, and you should have a say in how your lives will end."

Maut scoffed and rolled his eyes. "I've taken on twoscore beasts wit' only Veach at my side. I don' think I'll be goin' down to some pirates," he muttered to himself, but stepped up to Mharbrow nonetheless.

  Elgon looked up, interested that the fox captain wanted to talk to him. He eyed Firestripe's sleeping form cautiously, then shrugged and came over, replying quietly to Maut.
  "Most of the crew is capable of holding their own, ole chap. These are more than just every day pirates, wot!"
  Elgon saluted to the captain, coming to attention.
  "When do you want me t'wipe out the bloomin' bounders, ole chap? I've got some free time between luncheon and afternoon tea."

"Le...leives w'al edd?!" The former map maker squeaked before he took a deep breath and nodded to himself mostly as he stepped back so the Captain could start to gather the camp. Stay calm. It was likely just some hyperbole and it would be less dire than that. And should it actually be a life threatening event then the crew would work on trying to fix it as a team.

Soon standing with the other crewbeasts Tul would stay quiet as he listened. Hoping for some grand revelation about the enemy pirate that would lead them to victory. Or a safe place to flee too. That would be acceptable too.

  Mharbrow took a stick from a pile of spare firewood, scratching in the dirt absently for a while. He watched the tip of his stick for a while, then looked up suddenly and met Elgon's gaze.
  "Ulrik is merciless. He has no hesitation, and he doesn't take enemies as slaves. His crew outnumber us and probably at least match us in skill, though most of them surpass the majority of our beasts. If we go against Ulrik, we'll die. The only advantage is that we'd go down fighting, and we'd take a good many of his creatures with us."
  The fox captain let his gaze travel to each crewmember in turn, studying their faces. They were apprehensive, nervous, even scared in some cases. Mharbrow hated seeing his crew like that. They were strong beasts who'd fought beside him for seasons. He didn't doubt their courage.
  "The other option is to hand ourselves over to The Long Patrol. The long-ears are fierce fighters, and determined to uphold their values and protect the innocent from vermin like us, but they'll be in as much trouble as we are, and they can use all the help they can get. It's a risk. There's no guarantee of success, but there isn't a guarantee of failure either. What do you think?"

  The vote was hesitant, but those who voted were in agreement: The Long Patrol was a better bet. Mharbrow nodded his head, looking again at Elgon.
  "What would be the best way to approach the mountain?"
  Elgon considered the question, tugging his ears in thought as he muttered his thoughts under his breath before finally glancing up.
  "I have it, wot! Hostages are worthless. The Bally Long Patrol is willing to make sacrifices for the greater good. You keep me tied up, and you'll have a harder time of it than with the pirate, wot. However, I can rock up to the jolly ole mountain no problem. Me and the little squirrel fella, Harold or somethin', can take you beasts with us. Loose rope stringing you all together to make it look good. It'll be a bally breeze."
  Mharbrow lifted an eyebrow, uncertain of the scheme.
  "I'm not sure if it would be a good idea to march through Ulrik infested territory pretending to be prisoners."
  Elgon nodded agreement, pointing to the sand to his left as though he were indicating the beginning of a plan he'd mapped out, though the ground was bare.
  "You won't be tied up the whole time. When we're near the bally mountain, we'll stop and get everything rearranged, but not yet. You'll still need your weapons and all before then."
  Mharbrow narrowed his eyes at the mention of weapons.
  "What's happening with our weapons?"
  "I'll carry them, obviously, wot! Can't let my prisoners keep their bally weapons."
  Mharbrow pursed his lips, glancing at Belladonna. She didn't seem to like the idea either, but she gave him a look that told him she still thought it was the best idea on the table.
  "You want me to make my crew march, tied up and unarmed, into the enemy fortress, as prisoners."
  Elgon walked around the fire to stand in front of the fox, spitting on his paw and holding it out as he spoke.
  "The enemy of my bloody enemy is my friend, wot. There will be no treachery between us. I solemnly swear to look after you and your crew. Should my superiors try to deal harshly with you, they'll have to go through me first. We will be comrades."
  Mharbrow didn't move to take the paw, thinking. Finally, he came to a decision.
  "Join my crew."
  Elgon considered the request, then took the Captain's paw and shook it once.
  "Done."
  Mharbrow grinned.
  "It takes a little bit more than that. Tul, come over here, and we'll begin."