Jailbreak

Darkfur, Wallace, Emma, Cirith, Rona

A foot stamps down through a puddle, the reflection of several torches waxing nebulous as rings of light radiate through it. Darkfur rubs his chin, "Yes, down here... down here those ambitious assassins wouldn't suspect me. I'm sure that Cirith has my message, unless that messenger... blast!! I'll need to lock up the entire Empire at this rate!" He goes over to Wallace's cage, rapping his knuckles across the bars, "Up, you pitiful woodlander! I'll need your cooperation I suppose as well..."

Wallace awakens with a wince, rubbing his pounding head. The stocky shrew gets unsteadily to his feet and squints at Darkfur, after a moment, taking a few steps towards the bars. "What /you/ want, then?" he asks. Or croaks, really. He sounds like hell.

Emma is laying on the floor of another cell. She looks up as the king comes in

Darkfur continues pacing, as he was before accosting the shrew, "You, shrew. You come from a certain area, I'm told. An area that holds for me the key to something very precious. You see, this Empire was once great, as you and your woodland spy friends may already know... but we are being assaulted and increasingly cornered. This island is infested with the filth of spies and assassins, ready to deal one final blow to our way of life. This, I cannot let happen. We must find another land. And I know exactly who holds the key to such a fortress as none have /ever/ laid eyes upon." The emperor grins, and gesticulates as he describes it, "Two /great/ towers hewn into rock and glacier, one said to have honored the great moving stars and the other the celestial orb of the constellations behind them.. both as tall as mountains, both absolutely inpenetrable..."

"Don' know what you're talkin' about," the shrew answers, folding his arms across his chest and glaring at the king with the one eye he can open right now. "Your majesty," he adds, after a brief pause and with the expected amount of insincerity.

"Do you or your lot know of the Great Moss Tribe? They reside on the River Moss, north of the great field of grass that lies beyond that Long Patrol fortress called Salamandastron... squirrels, which patrol the banks near Ferravale and the ford to the northlands... and among those squirrels is a family which is heir to the throne of the once great race of squirrels that occupied those mountainous lands and began construction on the tower-cities. Their location has been mysteriously lost, said to be in a place so far from here that time itself keeps the secret from our region.." He pounds the cage next to Wallace's, "Damn! Where is that slaver?!"

This drags a vague shrug in response from Wallace, arms still folded. "Might've 'eard of 'em. Fought 'longside my share. With, too. Been seasons."

"My lord, I am here!" Cirith calls from some other cell.

Darkfur spins around, "Well, what are you doing-- nevermind, guard!! Get this one out of here, quickly! Wait!" He holds a restraining paw up, rubbing his chin again, "If you do what I say you will gain a position as Captain of my new guard, in a land so beautiful it makes hearts ache and leap in their stomachs! Imagine, the power you would have, second only to mine, to oversee all beasts who make their homes in the valleys of this great land... no more wandering, after this one task, that is..." He looks to Wallace, "You must take him with you, as well."

Wallace falls silent and lets his bruised hands drop to his sides, glancing off towards the other cell.

Cirith says, "yes my lord, I well do that..."

Through all this talk, Emma has been siting quietly on the floor of her cell.

Cirith says, "what ever you say my lord, I well do it"

"And, guard? Once you've let this one and the shrew out..." Darkfur is already turning to go back upstairs, "...kill the rest down here. I don't care how it's done." The emperor says this last bit as if he were ordering a snack, one he didn't particularly need and seemingly spontaneous in inspiration. "Cirith, you, shrew; follow me immediately after your cells are opened, and make certain the shrew is in front of you, Cirith - I don't want him out of sight."

Rona has been sitting quietly in her cell, eyes closed, appearing to be alseep, though she is listening carefully to the conversation. At the mention of killing the rest of the prisoners, however, her eyes snap open, "What the hell?" she mutters, glaring angrily at the monarch's back.

Wallace balls his fists, tightens his jaw, with a mess of anger contorting his face -- it takes him a fair amount of effort to keep from launching himself at the bars.

Cirith says, "well, guard, let me out of here"

The guard looks incredulously at the emperor, gulping. He's supposed to take these beasts on physically? Some of them are quite a match and more for his strength, albeit having a better physique than most rats... Nevertheless he salutes, and gets his keys, unlocking first the rat's cell and then the shrew's. "Okay, up and out." The guard unlocks the wall brace which holds the chain through the metal cuffs around the shrew's wrists.

Cirith steps out "ahh...

Wallace keeps a wary eye on the guard as he's unchained, following him out of the cell and stretching. The occupants of the other cages get a grave eye, as he glances around at each of them, trying to think. Plan, maybe. He still looks fit to kill something.

Emma sighs

Rona eyes the guards suspiciously while she considers how hard she'd have to swing her manacle to crack a skull...

"You heard the emperor, no lolling about down here; follow His Majesty up into the keep; I don't want to see your filthy hides again!" Jealousy, maybe? Upon hearing Cirith being promoted for the task she's undertaking? Definitely; he glares arrows at her. Not that he was in line behind Viddick anyway, but a slaver!! Captain!

Cirith says, "hm, right"

she fallows the king

Wallace seems to give in, his shoulders slumping as he exits the cell. And immediately turns on the lone guard with a snarl, trying to swipe the keys out of the other's hands and putting all of.. well, what little strength he has left into it.

Emma stands up as Wallace does that

The rat guard is taken by surprise, not expecting the shrew to put up any fight. He recoils but in shock, dropping the keys to the stone floor. But he recovers and hits at Wallace with his spear butt, growling, "O, try an' escape, will ye, shrew?! I'll kill ya!" he yells.

Rona pulls against her wrist shackle, trying to get closer to the bars of her cell and by association the scuffle.

Emma picks up a stone of the floor and throws it at the guard with all the strength she has, yelling "HAY! take this!"

The shrew cries out in pain, teeth grit as he dives to the floor to grab the keys -- there's a split second that seems to last for forever as his eye darts around the dungeon, and then the keys go flying out towards the fox in the nearby cell who seems particularly eager to get out. "Get 'em out, go!" he snaps, before his attention turns back to the guard and expecting to see a spear coming down at him.

Indeed, the rat's spear is being thrust down at Wallace, the bearer of the weapon grinning cruelly at his target.

Rona reaches out as far as she can and grabs onto the keys. With a fair amount of finesse, she unlocks the door and her wrist shackle, then proceeds to unlock the other captives, flinging open the heavy metal doors. She has taken her own wrist shackle as a makeshift weapon, swinging it as a flail. Her violet eyes turn to the struggle between the guard and Wallace.

At that point Wallace, leaving his attention on the keys, has left the guard a perfect opening; the spear hits him right in the chest. He screams through clenched teeth and slumps back to the grimy floor, going still.

Emma comes out and looks at the guard, riping the amulet off her neck, and throws it at him

The guard smirks, showing grimy rotten teeth. He laughs evily as he prepares to thrust downwards and finish the pesky shrew. All of a sudden he yelps in surprise as an amulet hits him in the eye, "Argh, what tha hell?!" he reaches up a paw to hold over his injured eye, the killing blow forgotten for the time being.

Rona pulls her arm back, twirling the shackle and preparing to swing it for the rat's head, her teeth gritted, a low growl emitting from her mouth.

Wallace swallows and struggles painfully up from the floor, clutching at his bloodied chest and trying to put some distance between him and the guard. He still tries to draw himself up, but the shape he's in -- he just keeps his distance.

The amulet is roling acros the floor. Emma quickly picks it up and puts it in her bag at her belt, then goes over to the shrew.

And suddenly the guard goes limp, and his eyes roll back in his head as the heavy metal shackle collides with the back of his head. He collapses in a heap on the hard stone floor. Much to the fox's chargrin, he's not dead, but there's blood on the back of his head, and he won't be getting up anytime soon.

Rona stands off to one side, watching Emma and Wallace and the door, in case any more guards come. She's not as beat up as Wallace is, as she hasn

Rona stands off to one side, watching Emma and Wallace and the door, in case any more guards come. She's not as beat up as Wallace is, as she hasn't been a prisoner as long as he has. She does however have a thin trickle of blood running down her forehead where one of the guards hit her during her capture.

With the immediate threat gone Wallace drops to a knee, pressing both hands to the wound with his teeth grit and glancing around for anything to use as a bandage. "Keep.. gettin' people out," he grunts, glancing up at the fox. "Gonna need more'n.. more'n an 'andful, if'n you wanna see t'morrow."

Emma looks at him and then rips off a pece of her dress "here use this" she says as she hands him the makesheft bandage.

The vixen nods begrudgingly, walking from cell to cell, opening them all up and letting all manner of beasts out. Woodlanders, vermin, it dosen't really matter. They're all brothers and sisters in bonds now. She swings her shackle-flail idly as she goes about this.

Wallace takes the fabric with a grateful nod, starting to bind it around his chest and finally forcing himself to stand up straight once he's finished. He gives the stairwell a wary look, almost expecting a whole army to come charging down it.

Emma looks at the other 9 woodlander slaves as they run by

The three other prisoners, consisting of two rats and a ferret, stand behind Rona, eyeing the woodlanders carefully. The vixen steps over to Wallace, and after a few seconds, gets out a "Thanks." though she sounds like she hates saying it. The other vermin look hesitant to talk to the woodlanders at all.

Wallace glances Rona up and down, and gives a steady nod in response. He doesn't look too comfortable with the vermin, either, but the latent animosity is hardly a priority at the moment. "Now let's see about gettin' out of 'ere in piece, right?"

Emma says, "right"

Rona nods, swinging her shackle in a tight circle beside her as she rests her other paw on her hip, "Let's go then." she says.

Emma asks, "um, I know this is not the time to ask, but what 'tis your names you two?"

"Sergeant Wallace Clearweather," the shrew answers. He takes a moment to tighten the bandage, wincing. "Guerilla Union of Shrews in Mossflower. Bloody shame, meetin' like this."

Emma says, "hm, yes, it 'tis..."

"Rona." the vixen says simply, walking a little closer, "I'd assume you two are some of the slaves Darkfur captures to 'entertain' him in the arena?" for someone who is obviously a seabeast, she lacks the usual nautical accent of most corsairs like herself.

"I ain't no slave," the shrew answers, a bit of pride dragging itself back into his voice. He coughs and raises a shackled wrist. "/These/'re just a temp'rary inconvenience. Yeah, we was s'posed to fight for 'im, all right -- reckon we ain't doin' that now."

Emma says, "um...I am Emma, and I hope so..."

Rona chuckles dryly, "Oh, you'll be doin' some fighting all right, except I think it'll be on your own terms. You didn't think they were just gonna let us walk outta here, did you?"

Emma says, "nay, I dd not"

Wallace gives a weak grin. He manages a dry chuckle, too, as much as his chest will let him. "Didn' 'spect they would, darlin'. Might make it up to the docks alive, p'raps. They'd chase us."

The chuckle and the half-smile that came with it die instantly at the shrew's words. "Call me darling again, an' the Darkfur's rats'll be the least of yer problems." she growls lowly, stepping towards the stairs.

"We can worry about killin' each other later," the shrew answers, stooping to pick up the spear -- still wet with his own blood, in fact -- and striding after her. "When we're somewhere /else/."

"Agreed." the fox spits, puttingher footpaw on the first step before looking back at the others, woodlanders and vermin alike. "You fools comin'?"

There's a general sound of agreement as the disorganized rabble of beasts grab any weapons that come to hand -- tools, torture implements, anything and everything with an edge to it -- and follow after fox and shrew.