The Great Escape
The Great Escape
~~//~~ A Tale of the Long Patrol ~~//~~
Starring:
Dagda, Major
Monty, Private
Darklett, Colonel, ret.
Lennox, "Fixer" and Apparition
Ciocan, Badger Lord
Flint, Private
Taye, Major
Sidney, Lieutenant, unconscious
Evening settles in over the toad-camp, with the croakers alternating between prowling between their huts and tents, sitting at campfires, or snoring away in bed with their strange symphony of ribbits and croaking. In the midst of the camp, the cage filled with hare prisoners is dotted by a pair of eyes, wide and alert. Dagda's eyes, as the hare glances from side to side, checking to see if the time is right, if their guards are appropriately inattentive. "Monty." The name is pronounced with a tinge of hesitation, but he says it nonetheless, crooking a finger at the young private. "C'mere, lad."
Monty had basically been awake for the past three days; he had been experiencing for the first time in his life that feeling of being completely exhausted, yet totally wired at the same time. He sits in the corner of the cage, staring with a dogged, determined intensity at the door to the cell; his knees are drawn up to his chest, arms around them, his ear(s) folded flat against the back of his head. There is an odd grin fixed upon his muzzle, and he twitches occasionally, muttering things softly under his breath that likely can only be understood by him, if even heard at all. Hearing his name, his eyes slowly turn towards Dagda...upon seeing him being beckoned over, the completely-mud-covered-Monty very slowly unfolds himself from his sitting position, crawling on his paws and knees to where Dagda is sitting. Parking himself there, he peers at the Major with a curious head-tilt, eyes fixed upon him.
Meanwhile, if the Long Patrol thought they were alone here with some toads, they'd be dead wrong. Darklett is crouched, and his age is starting to really be felt, here -- he used to be able to crouch for days, now a mere few hours really gets his joints screaming. Still, he's done up in mud, dark green clothing, and paint, fully armed, and apparently totally alone. He spotted Dagda's approach to the cage, and can't quite make out what they're talking about -- not really of any concern, as he's in full waiting mode at the moment anyway.
The ever-present fog that hangs thick and low over the swamp becomes even thicker, almost suffocatingly so, as night falls and darkness closes in. Gradually, the fog begins to resemble... smoke. Dark and dense and with an acrid smell, it spreads across the toad encampment. The sleeping croaks become wheezy, and those toads who are awake begin to stir with a sort of sleepy bewilderment. At the far edge of the camp, just within view of the cage, a creeping glow flickers to life and slowly grows, its source indistinguishable through the haze. Silhouetted by the murky illumination, a dark figure begins to take shape.
On the edges of the marsh, a mile or so from the toad camp (so bold, they have grown, settling this close to the Mountain), a deep voice questions. "/Two/-a ma majors, on /one/ routine patrol, an' ye're tellin' me we've got no clue as to where in the whole marshland as t' where they migh' be?" The Badger Lord scratches at his snout, eyes squinted shut with frustration. "The next time ye take this long t' inform me that rankin' officers're missin', I'll be addin' a right fine set-a scuts t' m'trophy room, d'ye 'ear me?" The unfortunate hare in question nods furiously, saluting. "Yes sah! We'll find 'em sah, nevah y' feah, sah! Can't have gone too far from the shack, sah!"
Flint is with the group. He did notice his own major, Taye was missing but he had guessed one of the higher up hares would of said something, well guess not as he frowns.He volteered to go help them look as he has his longbow and arrows, and if needed for closer fighting a dirk." I say guys do be careful, lot of sink holes and such, deep mud and one needs to be careful where they step, I ..was here before, not a fun 3 seasons either." He speaks quietly.
Inside the cage, Dagda spends a moment in silence examining the other buck, clearly perturbed by his total mud-encrustation and just generally weird demeanor. "Listen, lad. I've got th' hole dug." He pauses a moment to let that sink in, but Monty's a bit manic, and the major chooses to press on before the private can put together a reply. "We're goin' out, you an' me, an' we're gonna find our weapons, toad weapons, /any/ weapons, an' bust out th' othahs, alrigh'? Been sittin' in here too long, they must not know where we are." 'They' being the Patrol at large, of course.
Monty's expression quickly turns from curious and confused to bright and excited at the news that Dagda had finished digging the hole, his eyes widening and a smile cracking his bloodied and muddied muzzle. The young hare shakes with anticipation, and as he is about to reply to said news, his words are cut off by Dagda...likely, for the best. Upon hearing that they will be retrieving weapons, Monty gives a low, pleased chuckle, his teeth bared and his paws clenching into fists, flexing a few times. He simply nods his head slowly in reply to the Major, emerald eyes narrowing as he awaits further instructions. "....weaaaaapons, good weapons...fine weapons..." he mutters, with a soft giggle.
Darklett's eyes narrow, and he looks around at the slowly thickening air around him. He dips his muzzle and pulls up the cloth wrapped around his neck to cover his snout, blinking through the beginnings of watery eyes from the growing smoke around him. His eyes narrow at the dark figure seeming to grow from the miasma, and his fists go to his sides to clutch at a pair of daggers, one coming out of his belt presently while he waits. The toads are beginning to wake up and notice that something just isn't right.
That glowing becomes more intense, with a hint of flickering flames behind the haze of smoke. Wreathed in shadow, an indistinct mass rises, seemingly formed from the muck and mire, and a deep bellow drags out. "Quoookah quoookah! Heed mee-ee-ee, oogah woogaaah..."
"Aye, the swamps be less than welcoming," Ciocan agrees, clapping Flint on the shoulder. The Badger Lord has little concern for stealth or quiet, as might be gleaned from the fact that he's carrying two large hammers on his belt and his chainmail jingles with every footstep. "We'll find 'em, and them toads're in f'r a mighty fine how-d'-y'-do when we do." Faint sounds reach them from a distance, and the badger cocks his head. "Hm. Let's head that way." And the march redirects.
Flint nods. "Course sah." He makes sure the other hares stay close together, when one almost steps in a dark puddle he grabs their arm and a small eep quiet eep is heard from the hare as Flint whispers "Careful lad" He keeps alert and quiet as he can as he too follows the sound and the direction the Badger Lord takes.
Blinking at Monty's response, Dagda shoves down his misgivings about leading the young, unhinged buck out into a hostile swamp and pulls back the scrap of blanket from his hole, choking back a cough on that strange smoke that's creeping along the marshy ground. The healer's nose twitches, clearing his throat only to cough again. "Smell. Smell's... familiar." His paw finds Monty's shoulder, stopping him from descending into the shallow 'tunnel.' "Monty. D'y' heah any chantin' or incantations from th' king's tent?" And just then the bellow rolls in behind the smoke. "...that. Is not a toad."
Monty's nose twitches as the smell of the odd smoke reaches it...he coughs once or twice, but otherwise doesn't seem to be too affected by it for one reason or another. His eyes are fixed intently on Dagda now, seemingly burning holes through him, his entire body a tightly wound spring, ready to respond to whatever command he is given. His gaze drifts down to his shoulder as Dagda's paw alights there for a moment, and his gaze returns to the Major, this time with a questioning look. The question gets a shake of his head, "...only hear the mountain, sah...I can only hear the mountain." Upon hearing the loud, strange bellowing noise, Monty frowns..."...that is not the mountain. I have to see....have to see what it is, sah..." He makes a move to head towards the dug hole...
Darklett's breathing is even and deep through the thin cloth covering his face, and for the first time in a good amount of time, he moves. There's enough coughing and bellowing going on that the sound won't risk giving his position away, and he can see the approaching hares and badger just through the edge of the building haze. Slowly, he creeps out of hiding, making his way behind another thick patch of underbrush, watching the toads, one by one, all turn toward the figure, trying to stifle -- in some cases, anyway -- coughs and sniffles.
Definitely not a toad. The dark mass rises, and rises, and rises still. It looms to some ten, maybe twelve feet, and while the glow of unseen flames radiates mostly at the level of the ground, the peak of the figure - head, perhaps? - appears to be almost crowned with tendrils of murky firelight. The shape billows and ripples and /oozes/ as it comes forward, entering the encampment with a sort of swaying drag that doesn't at all resemble individual steps. By all appearances the thing has no limbs; nothing but a towering sludge-monster, with a flicker of eerie golden eyes lit up by the flames. "/Toooadlings/!" it groans, the sound immense, reverberating among the smoke-filled camp. "/Taaadpoles/! Quoookah quoookah! I haaave cooome, oogah-ah-ah... for a /saa-aa-aacrifice/..."
Far on the outskirts of the haze, Ciocan rumbles a deep, menacing chuckle, reaching a paw out to grab at the thick smoke, which dissipates between his fingers. "Lads!" He calls, turning suddenly to face his contingent of Patrollers, about a score of fighting hares. "Some foul magick bewitches these swamps tonight, that much is plain to ear, nose, 'n' eye, but we /will/ recover them as've been lost from us!" A scattered shout of agreement goes up from the hares. "Stick close, 'n' we'll show 'em the meanin'-a blood 'n' vinegar!" The badger marches steadily ahead into the swirling smog.
Flint is a little unsure of the strange smoke, as is a couple other hares, but Flint nods and follows the Badger Lord forwards, this helps a couple other hares to follow the others as well as it would be unwise to get separated in this strange smoke.
Far from superstitious, Dagda's ears pin back suspiciously at the "spirit's" announcements, peering through the smoke towards the ghoulish light in the distance while the toads begin to rouse in increasing panic and fear. Monty's lunge forward catches his attention from the corner of his eye, and he snatches out at the young buck but he's too quick, and slips through his fingers into the hole. "Monty!" The major's hiss and subsequent attempt to drag Monty back from the shallow ditch are unheeded and unsuccessfully, respectively, and growling with frustration, he throws himself down into the hole himself to scrabble up the other side, wincing as one buried stake scrapes his spine.
Darklett makes a steady crouch-walk toward the backs of the distracted toads, and he takes a moment to gaze through the thick smoke and fog at the gigantic blob creature. What in the world. The retired colonel rolls his slowly reddening eyes and gets ready to strike -- the thing is with toads is that it's really hard to kill them silently, so timing is everything.
Monty had taken advantage of Dagda's distraction, using it to slip down into the hole that had been dug...he wriggles down through it, coming up on the other side...he too had scraped against the buried stakes, yet pays the fresh, bleeding scratches no mind as the young hare emerges out the other side...his head pops out first, eyes peering around for a moment before the buck tugs himself free. He rolls onto his side, then his stomach before pushing himself up to his feet...he wobbles for a few moments, before straightening up...he peers waaaay up at the blob creature, staring at it with a fascinated gaze, and he freezes in the spot, eyes wide, swaying slightly from side to side...though that's likely just due to loss of balance from sitting down for so long. "....not a toad," he mutters, introspectively. "Most certainly...not a toad..."
"/SAA-AA-AACRIFICE/!" the swamp monster demands, its thunderous voice carrying over the rising volume of the toads' frantic croaks and gurgles. "Briiing mee-ee-ee the squiiishiest, the sliiimiest! /QUOOOKAHHH/ demaaands yooour blooood!"
Nearing the outskirts of the camp, Ciocan stops the group at the crest of a short, reed-covered mound to observe the situation. Toads scurry between tents and grass huts, clamoring loudly with their "QWARK WARK WAAARK" sounds and generally looking panicked as they try to gather their wits and respond to the situation. As the badger puts a finger to his lips, signaling his troops to be silent, the curtain of the largest tent flies back and King Ug-glub (whatever his name is) emerges, strutting on fat legs towards the apparition. "Grea-ay-ayt spirit!" he ribbits, falling prostrate before the figure. "Here words of this'n one! Toad-frog servants offer to Spirit-one long-ear rab-bab-babbits!" A webbed hand waves to his minions to bring the prisoners forward, and a clutch of toads hurry to the pen to fetch them.
Flint nods as he and the other hares stay quiet, he stays alert and watches what plays out in front of them with a quiet frown.
Meanwhile, Taye is still in the cage. He's stayed behind, hunkered with Sidney who has been doing less than well - some sort of lung infection. /None/ of them have been treated the best, and the food has been limited. Taye sits in the mud with Sidney's head cradled in his lap, stroking back his headfur and ears as he watches the hole through which Monty and Dagda have disappeared. The broken off spikes they've broken from the walls of the cage are hidden in the mud under his legs, one hand touching to the shaft. His eyes are wide, darting this way and that as things seem to go from bad to worse. As the toads hurry to the pen, working the door open, his knuckles whiten as his grip tightens. He quickly shifts Sidney aside, laying his head on the ground, and shifts up to a crouch, putting himself between Sidney and the entering toads. He keeps the spike hidden.
As all eyes turn towards the hare-pen, Dagda freezes, reasonably sure that being found outside of its confines will not go over well, sacrifice or no. The major latches onto Monty harshly, dragging him abruptly to the ground and shoving the mud-covered buck as flat into the mud as he can, flattening himself as well. With any luck, between the smoke, reeds, and mud in the dim light, the pair will go unnoticed. Slowly, carefully, he blows the mud and smoke from his nostrils so that he can breathe again. Inside the pen, the toads reach forward to grab Taye and Sidney, as well as the others. None of them are counting heads, though.
The toad-king's groveling offer is admonished with a deep moaning sound - sort of a squishy hybrid of a laugh and snarl. "Hooow /DAA-AA-AARE/ yooouu!" The oozing monstrosity ripples and staggers forward, the bottom edge of its muddy mass just about covering the amphibian chief. "/Quoookahhh/ will nooot be appea-ea-eased by /RAA-AA-AABITS/! Begooone with the looong ears! BEGOOONE!"
Okay, see, this is why we have scripts, and this is why you stick to them. When Darklett hears that the toads are rushing to get hares to... Sacrifice. He swallows hard, and in his newfound position flat beneath the smog, he waits for an opening to break cover again. His eyes follow the toads, and then fall upon Taye. The major looks like he has something planned, so he waits. In the rush, he's able to roll over and get on more solid footing, crouched behind a thick spout of swamp flora. Waiting will only work for so long, and the colonel's about to strike at a moment's notice.
Monty hadn't been paying attention to Dagda, his attention still fixated upon the giant blob-thingey. Upon hearing the booming words echoing out around the area, the young buck begins to laugh. It starts as a soft giggling noise, then slowly builds until he is quite literally shaking with laughter...he points a muddied paw up at the blob, then at this point he is tackled and dragged to the ground by Dagda. "Ooof! Hehehehehehehehahah...." He turns to push his face against the ground and attempts to lie still, the mud a perfect covering...and now, especially with the toads all distracted. "...did you hear it, sah? Did you?" he cackles, still shaking with mirth even as he is pressed into the ground by the Major.
Taye doesn't have anything planned so much as a desperate bid to /not/ be sacrificed to some ridiculous toad God. He grits his teeth as the toads surge inward and forward, and when they come for him, and also start reaching around for Sidney, he surges forward. The spike comes up, and sinks into one's throat. Yank, spurt. He twists, strikes low, slashing open the other's guts. Pro tip: they don't smell any better on the inside. More toads are coming, though, and he launches forward to meet them, dodging a spear to get in tight and close, stabbing the spear overhand into the toad's chest, right at where (he assumes) the heart is.
"Fan out, lads," Ciocan orders, spreading his arms wide to give the signal. "On m'mark, now, we move in f'r the kill, 'n' dinnae breathe a word!" On the outskirts, in the reeds, out of sight and out of mind of the toads, the /official/ rescue party spreads out around the rear perimeter of the toad camp.
Flint nods as he quietly does as the Badger Lord says, he ajusts his quiver of arrows and selects one as he stays alert to all around him and moves quietly when he is told to move and only when he is told, he also makes sure he can tell where the other hares are, as well as the Badger Lord if he can and makes a mental note where toads are.
Down in the mud, Dagda peers through the filth and the blades of rough grass towards the FrogGod, keeping one paw on Monty to hold him down. He's learned now not to trust the slippery little blighter. The sound of toad-death from the pen reaches them, and he drags the other buck along as he scrambles forward on all fours towards the nearest tent. "Come on! We gotta get /real/ weapons!" His own pilfered spike gets rammed into the 'sentry' outside the tent, most likely just a random toad panicking by, but it's satisfying after the days in captivity.
"Quoookah!" The swampy mud-being expands outward, with a rippling wave of what could kinda-sorta be perceived as arms. "Yooouu have de-ee-eefiiiled my /SWAAAMP/! With RAA-AA-AABBITS!" As a scuffle begins within the cage that contains those very same 'rabbits', the slime deity's groaning and gurgling grows ever louder, helping to drown out the sound of the first few toads' deaths.
Hearing the word 'weapons' again, Monty is spurred back into action. He follows alongside Dagda, scrambling along as best he can beside the Major...he has fallen silent, though his expression is a haunted one, something strange flickering deep within his troubled eyes. As they reach the tent and Dagda takes care of the sentry, Monty springs up to his feet, surprisingly agile for his currect condition, and he grabs a toad who happened to unfortunately be nearby. Using his fists, he begins to pummel the living hell out of the toad, ramming his fists repeatedly into his face, over and over again, a growl building deep within his chest, then exploding outwards as he attacks in a rage. "NGGGGAAAAAHHHH!!!" Letting the toad fall limply to the ground and now covered in its blood, Monty stands beside Dagda, panting heavily, though with a simple smile fixed upon his muzzle. "Sah."
The nice thing about the slave pen is that the gate makes a bottle neck. They can only enter one, maybe two at a time, so they can't all rush Taye at once. He can take them as they come, but with a spike against their longer spears it's only a matter of time before... "/Hhhh-!/" A spear stabbed in through the reed bars of the cage catches him in the side, as opposed to directly in the gut as he dodges. He grabs the spear, yanking it free of the toad's grip, staggering back and falling to his rear. With a low bark of pain he yanks the head out of his side and hefts it, flipping it in his hold as he stands again, now armed /twice/ as well. So he'll just take that as a win, as he plunges forward again, taking another toad in the chest with a vicious stab of the spear.
There's a sudden jerk of alertness from Darklett as he hears a toad scrambling past him to get to the cage. Almost like a reflex, he sticks his leg out and sends the toad tumbling to the mud below, whirling his arm around to deliver a death strike in the toad's back, stealth forgotten now as he turns to face the enemy, backs largely turned to him. And he lunges in, slaying one, then another, then another, trying to get enough before they even notice he's killing them. He is, of course, stabbing his way toward the cage. Lennox, you did good.
As the Badger Lord raises his fist in the air, he pulls the large hammer from his hip, hefting its weight in his mighty paws as his hares begin to close the semi-circle in on the camp, his thunderous footsteps masked by the soft earth. That, it seems, was the signal, and suddenly a score and a few hares descend on the toads from the perimeter.
Flint aims and carefully fires at a surprised toad, hitting the toad in the throat, it falls over dead. He quickly loads another arrow with a quick paw and fires at a 2nd toad, hitting them in the chest and that toad also falls over dead.
"Inta th' tent!" Dagda shouts, pushing his charge through the door after he's finally separated from the bruised and battered toad, and following close behind. "Have y' gone mad, Mon-" The major's words trail off as his eyes register the contents of the tent. All of the Patroller's weapons, and then some. Tridents, spears, sabers, swords, every choice you could ask for. "-Nevahmind that. Arm y'self an' let's get down t' business." Strapping on the first saber in sight, he goes browsing quickly for his throwing knives.
Monty is about to go after another toad who had just run by in a panic, when he is pushed into the tent by Dagda. He stands there, his expression one of devious delight as he sees the cache of weaponry just before the Major does. "He. Hehe. Hehehehehe." He begins to giggle, especially after Dagda finally realizes what they'd just stumbled onto. "...the birds...they are on their way, sah..." he intones, softly, giddily. "Though I doubt we'll need any help...with this...hehe...." As Dagda begins to arm himself, Monty moves in the opposite direction...he finds a dagger, which he thrusts into his belt, then his eyes fall upon a trident. Something flashes within his eyes, and he reaches out and picks it up, holding onto it tight. "...toads...oh, toadie toads...what goes around...comes around, oh yes....heheee..."
Damn right, Lennox did good. By now she's putting as much effort into /not laughing/ as the rest of the spectacle, turning her head aside a few times to suppress a giggle, then returning her mouth to the curled horn-like device that amplifies and distorts her voice. "Quoookah quoookah, oogah woogah... etceterrraaa..." Despite the seething smoke and her stinging vision, she's high enough to have a decent vantage of the cage - and the unexpected arrival of the Badger Lord, with more hares in his wake. There's clearly more fighting to be done, but the mesmerizing effect of her guise upon the superstitious toads has them ripe for the picking - or killing, as the case may be.
The bodies are really starting to pile up, which suggests that perhaps they didn't do /such/ a good job thinning the toads' numbers this season. Tsk tsk. Taye will have to mention that in his report. Ahem. Right. Killing things. Taye has to step /over/ the fallen corpses now to engage the toads still coming. The fear and mixed anger makes them a rather volatile bunch, but they're taking stupid risks to try to get at him. Taye takes advantage, dodging a useless lunge and thwacking the side of the spear into the toad's skull. Down he goes, as Taye glances back to check on Sidney. His ears flicker - is he hearing shouts of 'Eulalia'...? He turns, peering into the murky fog - only to be slammed into, knocked to the ground by a toad in his moment of distraction. It becomes a wrestling match, the spear's length rendered useless now.
The /other/ thing about toads, besides that noisy-when-you-kill-them thing, is that they have very squishy bodies and readily available vital organs. Easy to slash and empty on Darklett's way toward the cage, the poor slimy schmucks not even knowing what hit them -- or stabbed them, rather. He gets an eyeful of the cage, finally, and spots a bleeding Taye defending himself against an oncoming swarm of toads and getting taken down. Just at this moment, a pair of toads catch wise of their buddies falling down dead around them and turn around to face Darklett -- but the hare's not there anymore.
As they make their way into the camp, the Patrol hares do indeed begin to shout "Blood 'n' vinegah!" "EULALIA!" and the odd ad-lib. When the Badger Lord hits the camp, quite literally with that massive hammer that crushes the first amphibian's skull outright, it's all just too much for many of the toads. While a fair few stand and fight, just as many begin to hop off in a panic, scattering into the swamp. The toad-king, realizing that the situation is in danger of devolving further, begins to flail out with a large, bladed trident at his own toads, quarking loudly. "This'n one kills broodkin himself! Cowar-war-wards! Stand, fight, wark!" But the leader's tenuous grasp on his rubbery subjects is all but broken.
Flint makes sure a couple of the hares don't get killed by a large toad, the toad falls over with an arrow in his back, and one toad gets close to the hare, Flint quickly rolls out of the way and stabs the toad in the side, letting another hare finish off the toad as he pants a little and stays alert, he still has arrows to fire at toads, like at one running off, he fires and slays yet another toad.
With his knives girded at his hip, Dagda glances over at Monty, his gleaming eyes, and his gleaming trident. "...Indeed. Back t' th' cage now, an' let's get th' lads out. We need t' quit this pahty, th' host're drunk." Oh, metaphors. The furor outside hints at the hysteria of the atmosphere, and when the pair reemerge, it is to a camp in flames, literally in places as frightened toads knock torches into the dry grass huts. "Well. It wouldn't be a Patrol if we didn't burn th' place down," he observes quietly, blinking. "T' th' cage!"
Taye has lost his spike in the mud, he can't get the spear in between his own and the toad's close body, so now Taye is reduced to pummeling at the toad's head. He never was /much/ of a boxer, though, was he? They scrabble back and forth, flipping first with Taye on top, then the toad. Then Taye, and finally the toad, as the not-so-dim-as-you-might-like toad grabs at his side, one of his slimy digits digging into the spear wound. Taye lets out a strangled shout and grabs at the toad's face, scrabbling for purchase. His thumbs sink simultaneously into eye sockets, gouging. He doesn't /stop/ gouging until the toad shudders, twitches, and rolls to the side - unconscious, if not not outright dead.
Monty's reply to Dagda is a simple, yet still subtly crazy grin, and a quick nod of his head. He follows the Major out of the tent, and he stands beside him to survey the scene that lies before them, bouncing on his heels impatiently...firelight flickering in his emerald eyes, the young, crazed buck almost doesn't wait for Dagda's last command...he is already heading back toward the cage where they previously had been held. On the way there, Monty had taken the opportunity to flip the trident around so that the blunt end is facing forward...gripping the weapon tightly in his paws, he comes upon a pair of toads...one male, one female. The male toad gets his skull caved in immediately with three hard blows of the trident, then Monty continues to wail on the poor toad til he is a mush of toad brain, eyes, and skin...the buck cries out, almost in anguish as he beats on the toad. Shaking violently, he turns his attention to the female, and is about to give her the same treatment. However, he notices something odd and familiar about the toad, and after a moment of staring at her...he points the trident in the opposite direction, his words hard and cold. "Go. Now." It apparently was the toad who had given him medicine while he was imprisoned...
Darklett's disappearing act is over shortly as the camouflaged and dark-furred retired hare lunges free from the overgrowth and darts through an open area on his way to the cage. The toads are fleeing, sure, but there's a group who haven't gotten wind of that particular plan jabbing into the cage with their spears, trying to stick the hare while also trying to avoid stabbing the toad... Of course, when the toad's eyes get gouged out, there's a lot less incentive to be careful, and their frenzied stabbing takes over. Darklett leaps at the back of one of them, crushing him against the cage with a pair of daggers buried into his back, felling him instantly, an angered growl the only warning he gives the amphibians that they'd better get lost.
Okay, enough of the theatrics. Finally allowing herself a trill of laughter, which is muffled beneath the heavy, mud-lathered cloak-thing draped over her, Lennox wriggles herself free of the costume's confines. It slumps to the ground, and she staggers a little on the absurdly tall stilts fastened to her lower legs - or rather, one to her calf and the other to her usual pegleg prosthetic. The volume of her snickering is exaggerated as she places the horn-thing to her mouth again, then croons into it, "Daa-aa-aarklett! Kill sooome sli-ii-iimyyy sons of--" Gurgle shlurk, something something inaudible over the din of the fighting. "--fooor mee-ee-ee!"
Shortly after Darklett dispatches the toad, Dagda arrives, having darted past Monty to get back to the cage and its prisoners, where Taye is pinned down. His saber pierces another with almost disturbing ease, and the buck stifles the horrified expression that pushes its way onto his face at the consistency of the amphibian's corpse. His eyes peer through the darkness and the smoke, trying to recognize the figure in the fire and moonlight, until the wafted name brings everything jarring into clarity. "Darklett!" Who else? A throwing knife wings from his paw and is gulped up by the flesh of an adversary near the older hare.
The rumbling laugh of the Badger Lord rolls through the camp like peals of thunder as his hammer crashes through jaws, shatters doorposts, cracks skulls, and breaks limbs. More and more toads, frogs, and a smattering of lizards make off into the darkness, abandoning their comrades.
Flint meanwhile sinks an arrow into another toad going towards the cage, he is getting a little tried now and running low on arrows, but has stayed alert as he fights off a toad that gets a little too close.
Look. Taye just got done gouging someone's eyes out - could there be a little less stabby for a moment? /Just/ a moment, you know? Give a guy some breathing room. Taye sprawls on his back a moment, but soon enough as the spears start coming in earnest he has to twist to avoid them, scrambling over onto his paws and knees. He grabs for his spear, the spike lost somewhere in the muck, and he turns to face the frenzied attack. He dodges a pointy attack at his face, catches a spear in the shoulder - just a graze. Which is when he spots Darklett, his face suddenly visible against the wall of the cage as he ends the toad against it. He stares dumbly for a moment, but as another spear comes in, he turns - twists to meet a toad who has made it inside. He lunges forward, and the spear sinks through his middle. It goes in all the way, coming out the other side - and the shaft breaks off in his gut. Taye is left with a splintered piece of wood. He turns, launches it at a toad through the bars of the cage. It catches him in the eye. Taye darts across to Sidney. /Now/ is the time. He starts hauling him up, the adrenaline pumping trough his system keeping him unaware of any pain as he hauls the unconscious Sidney over onto his shoulder. Fireman carry.
It's hard not to hear Lennox, the amplified and warped voice cutting over the din of combat. It would be a surprise if there were any serious non-toad casualties, the amphibians running amok all over their encampment, totally routed by the Patrollers.
Darklett's eyes flicker up to Dagda, and as soon as that hare reels back to toss a throwing knife, Darklett lunges at another toad, slipping in past his spear's range and delivering two quick strikes to the gut with his daggers, which are looking awfully grimy at this point. He turns, growling as he shifts that toad's weight toward another toad, using his body as a shield from further attacks.
Among the amok being run by the toads, there are a few who have gathered Lennox's ruse and, hopping mad about it, charge at her. Three toads, two of which have crude axes, charge at the stilted doe, cracking at her leg supports and screaming in embarrassed rage.
"WARK!"
The female toad doesn't have to be told twice, and with a WAAARK! she quickly moves in the opposite direction, waddling away as fast as she can and soon is gone amidst the smoke and chaos. Monty stares after her for a few moments until she disappears, then turns his attention back to the matter at hand. Or, er...paw. He follows after Dagda, heading towards the cage and felling the occasional stray toad who stumbles into his path with his trident. At this point, the young hare stops, standing there looking quite confused as he notices that the giant blob creature had vanished, and in its place now is...a hare? His already splintered mind seems to be taking its time putting the pieces together and realizing that there are now a majority of Patrol hares running around the grounds and quickly beginning to outnumber the toads. "Wha...?" he blinks, peering around the area slowly. As realization suddenly dawns on him, he raises his arms in the air, and elation replaces the confusion on his face. "THE MOUNTAIN IS HEEEEEERE!" he shouts, hoarsely. "IT IS HERE! WE ARE FREE! The birds brought them here, and we are free!!!" His adrenaline is quickly beginning to leave his body, however, and he soon sinks to his knees, the trident dropping from his paw...before Monty pitches forward, falling face-first onto the ground.
Flint scans the area and selects an arrow, he sees a toad about to stab down at Darklett and quickly flies an arrow at the toad's back, the toad sways and falls over dead as the hare pants to catch his breath, he errks as a toad catches him off guard and hits him hard in the side, the hare tenses and stabs at the toads chest a couple times, once he is knocked down and the toad falls with him and onto the dirk, Flint pants and moves away from the dying toad and rubs his now sore side, but though the pain he manages to stay alert.
Dagda glances over at Monty as he shouts to the sky, wiping blood from his face with a sleeve. He's all too familiar with the color of frog blood by now, an off shade of red. "That one's goin' t' have a long stay in th' infirm when we get back," he mutters to himself, trotting over to pull the collapsed hare's face out of the wet earth.
It should be noted that Sidney really isn't the lightest of bucks. Huff. Grimacing, Taye hauls his lieutenant towards the mouth of the cage , where the fighting hares have redirected the toad's focus /away/ from the cage. Well, okay. Save the /one/... who just came in. "Um. Sorry, Sid," Taye mutters, and with a grimace he turns on the spot, Sidney's boot-clad legs swinging 'round into the side of the toad's head. It's kind of a sickening thunk. Taye continues to stagger forward, breaching the pen's entrance - for the first time in how long? /Relief/. He leans there a moment, repositioning Sidney on his shoulder. "/Damn right/ Patrol," he grunts.
Oh, hey. The toads look kind of small, from all the way up here, but then the blow of an axe snaps one of her stilts. She lurches far to the side and goes over, with a trill of amusement. "Tiiimberrr..." And, /splorf/! Right into a particularly muddy patch of quagmire. Immediately Lennox wriggles, kicking off the broken stilt and using one hand to loosen the ties that keep the other adhered to her pegleg, while the first toad to come at her is conked hard in the face with the horn she still clutches.
Darklett turns to face another toad, only for him to get shot by one of Flint's arrows. Oh. Nice. He tosses that dead toad to the ground, no longer needing it as a shield, and stows away his daggers -- the density of toads is so light as to be properly handled without him. Immediate danger having been dealt with, the retired colonel looks through two sets of cage bars at the back of a certain Major. "Taye," he half-shouts. Gulp. "You're hurt. Let me carry him."
Monty is out cold, everything that had happened in the last few days finally taking a toll on the poor young buck, the medicine to keep him awake having worn off and so he basically just shuts down. Lying there on the ground in the mud, he seems much smaller and much more fragile than he had been while fighting, for some reason, and it seems to emphasize the fact that Monty really isn't much older than 8 seasons, not even an adult yet. Dagda is there to thankfully pull his face out of the mud, and his eyelids twitch once or twice, but remain closed as he lies there.
Oh so sure, this toad was, that he had an easy kill. And then, bonk. The shell bounces off his face, and it sends the toad down to his backside. The other two might be a little more problematic, but maybe they haven't grasped that Lennox is just a hare? Because they start just. Hacking at one of the stilts, warking bloody murder, and when it detaches from Lennox's body, they lift it up in celebration, as a trophy. They have slain the toad god. They are now fighting over who gets to keep the leg.
Flint looks over at the toads who are...celebrating over fake legs, ok that is just strange as he shakes his head, he should shoot one of them with one of the last couple arrows he has.
Lennox scrambles backward, her scut dragging through the swamp muck, the shell-horn raised to fend off another attack. It takes her a moment to realize that it's not coming immediately, as the two toads fixate on the abandoned stilts, squabbling back and forth as they both try to cling to the glory that is the intact one. Trying to get her legs under her, but with her pegleg only sinking deep into the mud, Lennox is fairly stuck in a sprawled position, and now she twists around to grab for the longer piece of the snapped stilt. It broke at an angle, giving her a nice sharp stabby-thing to work with, so that when the third toad wobble-jumps toward her a bit belatedly, she has it up and ready to pierce straight through the center of the bulbous creature's belly. "And /that/," she mutters as she yanks it free, leaving him to squeal and thrash in a typical dying manner, "is how it's done, ladies and gents..."
"Ah, there they are!" comes a booming voice as Ciocan strides up towards the pen. "Mai, but ye do put up a good fight f'r a bunch-a /pris'ners/ supposed t'be locked in a pen," he chuckles loudly, not even bothering to smack the toad that runs shrieking by into the darkness. "Next time, ye gets tae rescue /us,/ 'n' we'll entertain the toads." The badger gives the ranking hares a wink and a sinister grin. "I think we've done enough cleanin' oop f'r one eve, if it's alright with you lads..." Somehow that strange accent becomes much more endearing when paired with a hammer drenched in gore and a devilish smile.
Bwark? The toads hear Lennox's words, looking that way to spot their third falling to the ground leaking out his insides, then look at each other in marked confusion. The toad god... Lives? The stilt is dropped and they wobble sprint off into the depths of the swamp, croaking in shared distress.
Taye turns around, sighting Darklett around the side of the cage. For a moment, let's be honest. All he can do is grin - a reflex response that really can't be helped. Hff. He pushes himself off from his lean against the door of the cage and staggers in the mud around towards the retired officer. He doesn't argue, leaning forward so his shoulder rests to Darklett's for a moment as he just. Takes a breath. Relief washing over him, as he helps to transition Sidney into Darklett's hold. He just barely has the energy in him to huff out a laugh as Ciocan's booming voice reaches him. Yeah, he's about done, too.
Flint goes to help a fellow hare that is injuried to walk, he places the hare back on the ground when a taod gets too close and stabs the toad in the chest, toad dead and he picks up the injuried hare and makes his way towards the Badger Lord and whom ever else is over thare, he glaces at Taye worried, but lets a healer, if there is one, tend to him, the hare he is helping too injuried, broken arm but oother wise he is fine. Flint has a bruised side and a cut on his shoulder,but also sems fine and has one arow let in his quiver.
Lennox sidles a little to the side on her knees, then manages to find a sturdier spot of ground. Bracing her pegleg against it, the doe hoists herself upright, turning to face the two remaining toads - bloodied stilt-spike in one hand, shell-horn in the other. But. What. "/Hey/!" she calls after, as they bolt out of sight into the smoke, and the nighttime swamp beyond. "Get back here! Quoookah demands your sacrifice, you flummoxed fart-face flotsam /FROGS/!"
It's impossible /not/ to return the grin, Darklett's cheeks curling up to do so. He lets out a soft sigh of what can only be interpreted as deep, deep relief. And as the lieutenant is transferred over to his shoulders, he adjusts the weight of the fighter for the comfort of the both of them, keeping that shoulder contact with Taye for a little while longer. And then, business. "We oughtta get going," he states, to Taye but to everyone else as well, before... Lennox's shout turns his attention that way. Again, he can't stifle a grin. "Lennox! You can break character now! Get over here."
Dagda grins at the Badger Lord, grins at the other Major, grins at the retired Colonel, and... sighs down at his passed-out ward. Looks like fireman's carry for him, too. "Agreed, m'lud. Let's get th' hoof on, wot. Soonah we're back, soonah we strap th' feed-bag on, eh Taye?" Nudge, since he's not carrying anyone anymore.
Oh gosh, Lennox is here, too? As Taye finally straightens away from that lean, he turns another, smaller grin on the toad-God-turned-doe. "Yeah. Let's go. You c'n visit your subjects anothah time, Len!" Just. Without him. Definitely without him. The nudge from Dagda is returned with a pat to the back as Dagda moves off with Monty, assistance given by some of the other Patrollers as they all smart to amass, collecting any wounded and heading back out through the routed camp.
The lingering scowl dissipates from Lennox's muzzle, and she turns toward Darklett with a fierce grin. Poop-eating, even. But. The other word. "Don't know that I can give up Quoookah, though," she snickers, carefully picking her way toward them, mindful of where she puts the tip of her prosthetic. A few times the squishy ground causes her to sink a little on that side, and she grumbles but manages well enough, giving Taye an absolutely cheeky smile and then indicating the unconscious Lieutenant with a tilt of her head. "Deadish, or just... um. Some sorry attempt at beauty rest?" she quips, as she falls in with them to begin the trek back.
"He'll be fine." Darklett actually doesn't know that. But he hasn't gone all rigor mortis, so... "Wooga booga. I could hug you right now if I wasn't carrying Sid. It was brilliant, except for when they decided they needed to sacrifice hares." But, all is well that ends well, and Darklett simply rolls his eyes with a laugh.
"He's okay. Just got the sniffles." Taye downplays it, obviously. Darklett's got Sidney to contend with, so Taye manages the trek under his own power. He doesn't want to drag Lennox down what with the prosthetic and all. "Admittedly, the uh... massive numbah of toads wanting to... sacrifice my various organs 'n' whatnot. Was not a highlight. But I'm okay with it. Considerin'." Pause. /Seriously/, though. "Thanks."
"Uh-huh. Hugs, kisses, songs of praise," Lennox responds with a casual shrug, but oh. That grin. She is /so/ smug, and maybe it's just the uneven ground, but as they walk her gait is especially swaggery. "Really, I'd much rather skip to the part where I... bathe off the swamp-scum? And you two can dote on me with a few rounds at the tavern, mm, yes..."
And so they trudge out of the swamp. /Finally/.
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