The Tagalong Alliance

'Sniffle' [Punch], Wallace, Viddick, Cirith, Notch, Gage, Dangeon

Wallace and his band of liberated woodland followers have managed a rather impressive escape from the clutches of the king's forces and have camped out overnight on the beach. Unfortunately, it was not as clean a getaway as they'd hoped.

Sniffle's eyes droop. It's not the lateness of the day, so much--the sun is still pinned near the apex of the sky--but the heat, the heaviness of it, and the boredom. The undersized mouse props his head on a paw and twists a bit, so that his hind feet find slightly better purchase on the craggy surface of the rock outlook. He sniffs and yanks his eyelids open as wide as he can, only to find them drifting shut again only a moment later. This is the hour when even the over-legged arthropods of the shallows take off to nap in the shadows of the rock, or heap cool sand on themselves to stave off the desiccation of midday. What hope does a skinny mouse used to temperate woodlands have? But still, dutifully, the sorry little creature continues to watch the port for signs of a boat. For signs of deliverance.

There're a few pained grunts and quiet curses to his left as Wallace, clad in trousers and stained bandages, crawls alongside him and tries to find a less-uncomfortable perch on the scorching rock. He claps Sniffle on the shoulder, if.. not as soldier to soldier, then as a fellow fugitive. "How's it look?" he asks -- keeps his voice low, as if even the rock has ears that haven't yet been filled with foul oaths.

"'S'alright," replies the diminutive woodlander, apparently at a loss for anything more detailed than such a casual appraisal. "Ain't seen no boats comin' in. 'Ceptin' the one," he adds. "Couldn' see rightly where they was goin', but the hare was in a awful way, looked like." 'Sniffle' scratches behind his ear and winces; though this is one of the few spots unstung by his captor's whip, the sun has now found fit to address that oversight.

Viddick creeps along a grassy ridge on his belly, above the beach, eyeing the assembled woodlanders at the rocky outcrop, where they seem to be searching for... a boat? The rat narrows his eyes, sighing under his breath... in his heavy and ornate uniform, the sun is causing him even more sluggishness and exasperation, as the rat wipes his brow and ducks as somebeast looks back. "Gah, he ain't on the emperor's mission, not with all those beasts in tow. Where's that Cirith gotten to?? All this mess started with her, hrmph!!"

Wallace quirks a sand-crusted eyebrow, shifts a bit to squint at the mouse. "The one? What'd it look like, an' did you see who was crewin' it?" His eyes slowly but inevitably drag themselves back to the docks. "An' what'd they do while they was in port?"

'Sniffle' shrugs uncomfortably. His faces crawls into an expression of premature apology, as if to solicit sympathy for his sun-addled mind. "Uh." Another scratch of his burnt ear draws a sharp gasp. "Ow. Uh, they was, uh. It was a burned up boat. Look like they was paddling with paws. A young rat and a weasel, maybe. Uh. Can't remember what they was doin' after, but the hare was beat up real bad, I think."

Cirith uncurlls her whip.

Once again in so many hours his highness Notch has left his group behind and trodded off towards the agreed direction. That the polecat is hampered by the passed out and very drunk hare queen certainly doesn't make things any easier, but at least he has the sense to try to be somewhat cautious about it. Alas his horrid disguise gone, he's had to make due with the sorry state he looks to be in after a lousy night as he waits and listens nearby.

Viddick eyes the cold succinctness of the female rat next to him, half with horror and half with fascination. "See you've got your weapon of choice, there. Don't know what a lot of good that will do you surrounded by all that filth down there." He keeps an eye on her out of the corner of his field of view, meanwhile noting the developments below. "They look a ragged bunch of refugees, what in hell are they waiting for?? T'be honest, I'd rather follow 'em than report back to Darkfur, good news or bad..."

Though he definitly does not look like he's trying to catch up to the heir, Gage still does his best to keep Notch in sight as he walks along, if only because it will warn him if trouble comes along. The captain is of course slowed by the intoxicated hare he is forced to carry. He looks like he'd really rather be anywhere else, which is telling, considering he usually looks fairly cheery.

The shrew gazes off at the docks for a time, silent, his mind wandering. Eventually he pats the moues on the shoulder and gives him a weary nod. "Good work, mate. Keep your eyes peeled." Pause. Wallace's gaze is dragged inexorably towards the docks. "...Where /you/ in from, now?"

'Sniffle' rubs his bleary, sun-soaked eyes. "Hmm?" he mumbles, inching upward so that his entire head now pokes over the crown of their rocky perch. "Oh," he says. His voice is muffled, but his vision is sharper now: sharp enough to see the figures loping along the shore in their direction. "Musta missed 'em."

Cirith moves to get a better look at the slaves "so, when shall we make our move and attack?

Viddick notices too. He nudges Cirith a few times, until the movement and comment, "Quit sleepin out here; what is it, the sun's got to you? Imagine that; slaver can't take what they put the slaves to doin', heh. Well wake up! I see more beasts coming; there isn't any way we're going down there with all them--we'll stay back a bit and try to come up with a plan to follow them. Darkfur told me to keep things together, after you bid a hasty retreat an' didn't watch that shrew... we've got to isolate that scumbag from his mates, then he ain't nothing.."

Well so much for being subtle about his approach, noticed the rat prince smiles and approaches the group in his sorry state, "Ain't'cha know it, its been a lousy one eh? Maybe for you lot too?" Dirty and still somewhat wet, the rat prince is hoping he doesn't look too princely.

Gage's pace slows some as he sees the group ahead now, and as Notch adresses them, he stops, laying the queen behind a small rise in the sand where she may not be as visible or vulnerable. He speeds up to a low trot, paw on his sword hilt. He's hoping that if the beasts aren't friendly at least he'll know when they attack the prince, and he'll have a chance to make himself scarce. On the other paw, if they are friendly, he figures he's a little more charismatic than the bratty heir. He's about fifteen feet behind Notch's right shoudler.

"Hell's teeth," Wallace mutters, squinting off up the beach at the group. There's a stream of colorful language and he flattens himself against the rock, wincing as he does so -- one hand reaches out to grab the shortsword he carried up with him. "This ain't good. This /ain't/ bleedin' good. I reckon I knows that little shrimp -- he's the emperor's runt."

If the hackles of a group can rise as one, this is precisely what happens to the collection of eight disheveled ex-slaves making their camp at the base of the lookout rock. As soon as the proximity of the bedraggled heirling becomes known, they seem instinctively, and collectively, to huddle in self-defense, with the vanguard--two strong, comprising a well-built squirrel and a bristling hedgehog--brandishing bits of driftwood as weapons. 'Sniffle', for his part, remains atop the rock, but he clambers to a spot from which, with a well-aimed jump, he might be able to land on Notch.

Cirith says, "hm...look's like somones coming up to the others...a rat...and another....can't tell who or it is...." she looks back at Viddick "shall we attack?""

Woodlanders, they all look alike especially to a young rat who isn't all that familiar with them. He spots Wallace too late and while there is suddenly a lump in his throat with his efirst instinct to run the tired and worn rat prince knows he wouldn't get far, "Ain't know what'cha talking about, bloody king is after my neck just as much as he's out for yours! Honest!" He thinks fast, and does his best to get out the words before he's in real danger from the group.

He ain't Captain of His Majesty's Imperial Guard for nothin'. The rat realizes his extremely elaborate attire and rat-like appearance are a dead giveaway to the groups below. Viddick thinks... "No. Now, who we /really/ need to isolate are two mice. /We're/ two mice from this point on, which means you get rid of the whip or find a place to hide it, and I go with naught but concealed blades. Great inferno of the island's belly, though, they're all frightened into a huddled mass... 'll be impossible to get two of the smaller ones to wander off like that.." He hopes for it, though. "Unless any other slaves we can steal from? We definitely need hats, an' show less tail..."

"Geddoff m'bally paw, antface!" Comes an irritated, slurred shout and a pair of hare ears peek momentarily above where Dangeon's been hidden before vanishing from view once more.

The captain stops, partially because of the rather unfriendly greeting it seems that Notch is recieving, and also as he glances back over his shoulder at the queen who appears to be awake now, "Wonderful," he mutters, stepping forwards to stand beside the heir, but not too close. He considers opening his mouth to speak, but dosen't, giving the prince another chance to get himself stabbed and get out of Gage's hair, so he just looks over at the woodlanders, giving Wallace, who seems to be a leader figure within the group, a nod, his paw still resting on his sword hilt.

Wallace grits his teeth and finally stands up with sword in white-knuckled hand. "That tears it," he mutters, glancing sidelong at Sniffle and keeping his voice low. "Don't do anyfin' stupid."

The captain's nod goes... practically unnoticed, or ignored. The shrew's eyes are still calculating the odds.

The little mouse looks rather blanky at Wallace and nods without seeming to give much evidence of comprehension. He raises a paw to salute his intention to comply, when gravity promptly countermands the shrew. 'Sniffle' loses his grip and tumbles backward off the rock. He lands in the sand with a dull thud, throwing up a little cough of sand. Meanwhile, the other ex-slaves take their cue from Wallace, variously raising fists or improvised weapons. Only one of them, a young female mouse, seems more concerned about Sniffle's fate than about putting on a show of toughness for the visiting vermin. She scrambles to the clumsy fellow's side.

Cirith says, "hm...there's four mice, that much I know....so, any ideas?"

"Eh hee, this is all some sort of misunderstanding... Do I look like a prince, and what am I doing here and looking like I am if I really am some sort of royality and all that!" He shakes his head, "Nay, me and my group are a traveling group who do plays and such and are being hunted by the mad king for being imposters!" Notch hopes his quick thinking will be enough, and when the hare pipes up Notch explains, "She's kinda ain't all there, but she's really nice dat!"

"I think we best find a ragged group of slaves back at the dungeons, and hurry back before they've found a means of safe passage across the strait. We can't afford a formal introduction... we'll have to stowaway or something, maybe blend into the group once we've reached land. Then. The shrew--we make a move on him when he's alone and finally get him to spill his guts, in more ways than one if necessary." Viddick doesn't look at her at all during the monologue, staring right at the shrew.

Gage steps forwards, placing a paw over the prince's mouth. "Gage Darkwater," he introduces himself, "Admiral, formerly." he remarks wryly, a faint grin, "In case his lies 'ave fooled you, this is the prince." he says. He sees no reason not to be honest with the escaped slaves, at least for the time being. He does however, leave out mentioning the inebriated royal hare still lting behind a small sand dune. At least he hopes she's still there...

Wallace gives the mousemaid a quick nod and gestures for her to get the fallen mouse out of the way, making a much more controlled descent from the outcrop and making his way to the head of the pitiful band of fugitives. This is hardly what he was planning for. "Wallace Clearweathah," he responds, setting his jaw. His eyes occasionally flicker between shapes, endlessly calculating the odds. They all comes up pointing the wrong way. "Sergeant, now an' then. What you come out all this way for, Mr. Darkwatah?"

Cirith says, "huh...shall we go back now to those slaves, or what?"

A twisted smile forms on the prince's face and he stares at the shrew, "Well I guess I ain't fooling anyone, and surprised ya head is still attatched to the rest of ya woodlander."

The shrew's followers hang back, poised and hesitant, awaiting instructions from their liberator and ad hoc leader. Their sad campfire, encircled by a small trench of sand, gutters, until at last the flames retreat into ember. Not one takes notice; the air still crackles with tension. The squirrel and hedgehog lower their weapons, barely.

Viddick nods. "I think we've established that no violence will have broken out in our absence. Until he achieves his only useful purpose in life, that shrew has to remain alive. It's our job just as getting information about this squirrel family is our job. Well, let's get back, then... here, on our stomachs until we get down the other side of this hill..." He army-crawls his way through the loose soil and finally slides down the hill and lands with a squat, scurrying and looking back at Cirith, "Can't lose a single step in it, c'mon!"

Cirith goes after Viddick

Gage gives Notch one of those friendly 'shut up or i'll make you' looks, before answering Wallace, "Well, we're on the run," he says simply. "Yew don't believe you're the only one that crazy bastard wants dead, do you?" he asks, eyebrow raised. "No, see the way I see it, we stick together, help each other, ya know what i'm saying?" he puts on his best grin and tries hard to be charismatic in the situation.

"That crazy bastard wants a lot of people dead," Wallace answers, and gestures to Notch with the point of his sword. "An' what's /that/ doin' 'ere, then?" He holds his ground, keeping himself between the two groups.

Notch sticks out his tongue at Gage but holds it, crosses his arms and looks off to the side away from the group. Ignoring them.

"/That/, as you correctly stated, followed us to the boat we were tryin to use to get off this island an' save our skins." he draws his sword, no doubt drawing a reaction from the gathered fugitives, but he sticks it point down in the sand and leans on it, "Of course, some guards followed us, an' let's jus' say the boat didn't fare too well. The rest, includin' a mate of mine, were captured, myself, it, an' Dangeon." he jerks a thumb back at a small dune that a faint drunken singing and laughing voice drifts from. "We was on the boat, but it was really too damaged ta get anyplace, so we came ashore here."

"I ain't an it, ya'll call me ya highness!" Notch suddenly snaps, clinching a fist as he glares.

Wallace watches the cat for a moment, eyes narrowed against the sun. The squinting's starting to become painful, but neither gaze nor sword are wavering. Yet. They're the only things that aren't, at this point. "You're carryin' along the emperor's consort an' his own bleedin' son, an' you say you're on the run? Supposin' what you're sayin' ain't sawdust, cat, what've I got to tell me it ain't?"

Gage looks down at the young heir, "I'm sorry, yer highness. What exactly do you rule again?" he pauses, waiting for an answer or to remember himself. Recieving no response, he says, "Oh, that's right. Nothing. Nothing at all." he glances back to the shrew, "Does it look like I enjoy travelling wit' the brat and the drunken queen? Hell, i'm not protectin' them, they're just tagalongs." he says spitefully. "At this point, I jus' care about getting me, an' a selcet few others offa this damn island and away from this crazy king."

Wallace casts a brief glance over his shoulder at the pitiful band of fugitives behind him, and then his eyes are back on Gage. "How're you plannin' to do that, then? Ain't no bleedin' way you'll get of these islands wivout supplies I don' fink either of us've got."

Gage waves a paw theatrically in the general direction of the docks, "A ship, one of the new ones, built to reform the navy. We... commandeer it, an' sail away, livin' happily ever after. At least that's what I was thinkin. You're welcome to stay here if ya like."

Notch hmphs, says nothing.