Beach

The intense sun bakes the golden sand of the beach.  To the north and south all that can be seen is sand.  The salty air flows off of the glassy green surface of the ocean to the west.  Far out on the ocean a pelican swoops down and flies off with a fish.  Pearly shells rest in the sand.  It is your typical beach scene, nothing out of the ordinary can be seen.

Exits: [Sh]allows, [U]pshore, [T]ravel [D]ownshore

It is an ordinary beach scene, a quiet, cool breeze. Or not. In fact, a large table has been set up on the sand, and five beasts sit around it, with another five archers (armed with shortswords) pouting and complaining about missing out on the fun. A youngish ferret is giggling insanely and singing while guzzling whiskey. The scent of a woodpigeon being roasted on a spit can be smelt from a long way off, and the smoke can be seen. The group doesn't seem to care much about hiding it's smoke.

The long patrol continues on it's way along the sandy beach, fully lined in formation as Major Jarril walks alongside Colonel Zoe_lang.  Turning his head to look at her he smiles.  "Nothing like a stroll, is there?"

Spiredown rips off the wing of a woodpigeon. "Har har, don' think this could git any better. What could happen anyhoos? A group of hares bumbling along here?" ;)

+ Jarril says, "Quite far at the moment.  Not able to see them yet." (Group chat: LongPatrol)

+ Zoe_Lang says, "All right. What about the smoke rising?" (Group chat: LongPatrol)

Firefang is sitting at the table, guzzling ale straight from the bottle and looking like he's about to fall backwards on his chair. "WhoOA! Oof!" He does, and laughs heartily as he continues to chug the bottle of ale, while laying on his back.

Delvei sits on the end of the table armed with both axe and sword. He seems to be intently alert, but trying to maintain a good party mood at the same time. And he rips off the other wing of the woodpigeon that Spiredown just took and sniffing it gingerly, starts to eat it.

"Ho I once knew a ferret maid, she was my mum, I sold her to a raider for a small sum and a bottle of rum! There was a--" Saltar stops drunkenly singing to look at Spiredown. "Eh, wot? Hares? What hares? Ain't no hares, mate," Saltar says, draining a whiskey bottle. "Rum! Rum!" A small squirrel slave scurries up to him and refills his cup with rum. " 'Nyway, I hear 'ares are good tastin' these days. Le' 'em come, I say!"

Spiredown shoves the woodpidgeon wing in his mouth and chews hungrily. "Nah. Carn't be hares. Those stupid idiots are ALWAYS kept in their mountain with their slimy badger lord. Ha! Here to him!" He raises a goblet and gulps the liquid down.

Nodding a bit, Zoe walks along at Jarril's side, walking stick in paw. "Aye, nothin' like it, m'lad.." Grinning, she glances back at the rest of the patrol, "Doncha agree, ye lot?" Only a few weary nods greet this question, and Zoe chuckles. "Eh, they'll understand some day, wot.." With that, she squints, peering off into the hazy distance and... what does she spy there? A bit of smoke rising into the sky? Nudging Jarril slightly, she nods her head in the direction of the smoke. "What d'ya make o' that?"

"What d'ya make o' that?" Saltar asks, pointing at the squirrel. "Pretty, ain't she?  Got her in a raid of some coastal village or another," he notes, draining a cup of rum. "More, you little woodie, more I say!"

The squirrel hurriedly pours more.

Delvei calls for some rum to himself, though clearly not wanting to drink himself into a stupor. He eyes the squirrel, his silent command to hurry up.

Jarril continues to walk in a slow march and looks at the smoke rising up in the air.  "Hmm, looks like we're going ta meet someone at one point."  He looks about for a moment and speaks.  "Alright, chaps.  Let's not make ta much noise, just in case.  It's probably some otters, but could be something else.  Best not ta take risks."  He turns his head back to Zoe and talks to her again.  "Could be what that other patrol saw on deserted campsites.  Anyways, we have a sand dune as a shelter but it's stopping us from bally knowing who's on the other side.  Who's our fast runner?"  The Major thinking on sending one ahead to spy the land.

Spiredown snorts and cackles. "Nya, was that the raid where you ran into those traveling Abbey morons?"

Oxeye keeps quiet for the moment, preferring to take in what he can of their current position on the beach. He's not very familiar with the terrain, having only reappeared recently at Salamandastron a few days ago. He uses his javelin like a walking stick, only half-listening to the superior officers as he trudges along. He looks up at Jarril as he speaks, but says nothing still.

A longboat carrying a half dozen corsairs moves towards the shore as the pirates row it along, toward the gathering. Cap'n Lor and one of his henchbeasts hop out and drag the longboat up onto the beach and out of the shallows. "Ahoy landlubbers!" calls Lor to the other corsairs gathered as he surveys the scene.

Saltar nods, gulping rum. "Aye. They squeaked and said they had powerful friends, didn't dey?"

Firefang brings his almost-empty bottle of ale out of his mouth and slowly stands up, swaying a little. "Phew.." He rights his chair, and sits down heavily. "Somebeast git me a wing!" He hiccups, and looks over at Lor, raising an eyebrow. "Ahoy, yerself!"

Spiredown chucks the pidgeon bone over his shoulder. "I dunno. All I know is that sparrow made a good necklace!"

Spiredown pats his stomach. "Ahh, I love bird." He then grabs the woodpidgeon and takes off a chunk of meat. The pidgeon is tossed back on the table. "Hey. Its the sealubber."

Appearing from the ranks behind Jarril and Zoe, Triss peers off into the distance, her eyes narrowing on the spot Zoe pointed out. Sayng nothing as Jarril asks for a runner, she continues staring at the tin line of smoke winding up into the sky. "I used to be a runner..." murmurs Triss, looking at Jarril seriously. "I'll go."

Saltar nods in agreement and turns to face Spiredown. "Landlubber? Do you think -I'm- a landlubber, rat? We'll see who's a landlubber! Own a bloody ship, I do, and I'm the Grand Arch *hic* Archon of the Corsair Confederation. -Corsair-, d'you hear me!?"

Delvei nods, glancing at Lor and his corsairs, standing up, ready to break up a fight if one starts between Saltar and Lor.

Glancing over her shoulder, Zoe spies one of the hares she happens to know a bit and gestures him forward. "This lad's fairly fast, doncha know? He c'n manaage the task.." Regarding the smoke ahead of them skeptically, she gestures the runne forward. "Off ye go, then."

Spiredown just sits there. Yes. "Good ale."

Lor laughs a bit at the other corsair. "Well mayaps ye've 'eard o' me. I'm Cap'n Lor o' the Red Ring. The finest ship ter ever sail these seas. I was the beast that 'elped enslave many a redwall beast after the quake. Surely ye've 'eard that tale?" He walks up to where they are. "Ow bout a drink fer a livin' legend an' 'is crew?"

Firefang gets up, and pulls his cutlass out and swings it about. "Off with 'is 'ead I say!" He falls backwards with a mighty, hiccup.

Saltar squints at Lor. "Getcher own rum, Livin' Legend indeed! I'm Saltar, the saltiest saltseapirate to sail the salty seven seas! And I have a bloody fleet, too!"

The patrol continues to move closer to where the sand dune lies and he looks up at the progress of the runner.  Turning his head to Zoe.  "Ya do know that I could've gone up there and back before that one."  He winks slightly, but knowing his place is right here with the patrol since it's his troops behind him apart from Triss and Zoe who had come along this time around.

Spiredown waves a bone at Lor." An' /I/ command it."

"Fat lot o' good that does. 'Ave you wee little babes e'er seen real combat?" Lor laughs at them, with his crew right behind him laughing too. "I bet yer fleet o' toy ships is nothin' compared ter the Red Ring."

Delvei sighs and mutters, "Here we go."

Oxeye watches the patrol move into action, leaning on his javelin. His eyes wander from each officer to the next, but remains silent. Bending down, he considers collecting a dozen or so of the smooth beach pebbles for his sling, in case it is more than just otters.

Saltar nods at Lamerok. "In'nit, though? And I dun' want some braggart to ruin me bloomin' party . . . 'Nless," he pauses, narrowing his eyes slyly. The slyness, however, disappears. "Combat? Ahoy, matey, we have! We sunk the Fleet of Cherry Island in the Shoretown wars, so we did! 'Course, that was me grandpappa, but still. And me! Well, me, I've sunk more ships 'n you have stitches in yer bloody habit!"

"I 'ope 'e's quiet...Jarril..." mutters Triss, watching as the runner disappears off into the distance. Turning around, Triss watches the patrol begin to move, waiting until its half past her before beginning to march along side, longbow at the ready.

Continuing alongside Jarril, quieter now that they move closer to the rising smoke, Zoe's ears perk a bit as Lor's crews' boisterous voices carry in their direction. "Doesn't sound like ottahs t' me, ye lot. Keep on yer toes, wot." With that, the runner hurries back, making good time over the sand. "'Tis a group of corsairs! Drunk! Ten or fifteen of 'em, sah!"

Lor laughs loudly. "Dear ole grandmammy and grandpappy do yer fightin' fer ye? Yer a pathetic excuse fer a sailor. Now be a mate an' pass the ale, eh?" Lor looks around the group of corsairs, counting them. "Think we could take the lot, boys?" His crew nods in agreement.

Delvei draws himself up to his full height, and folds his arms, letting the other corsairs think of trying their luck against him.

Jarril stops the patrol at the foot of the sand dune and turns around.  "Alright.  Triss."  Turning to face her.  "Take some with you and go take the left flank.  I be taking the middle."  Turning to face Zoe.  "Care ta lead the right flank, colonel?"  The major looking up at the sand-dune and frowns.  "They're as noisey as dibbuns without their bally warm milk before bed, wot."

Saltar waves his hand at Lor. "Well, we was enjoying a grand party and I'd rather not split the bloody thing. Take yer ale!"  Saltar stands up and stretches, muttering curses and slapping the squirrel for no reason whatsoever.

Nodding quickly, Zoe agrees silently to the task delegated to her and moves to the right flank, whispering softly to the hares behind her, all of whom are now holding their weapons tightly. "On Jarril's command, and not before. Shh, now..." Trailing off, she turns back, gripping her walking stick in paw.

Lor nods to Saltar but stays where he is for the moment. "Aye thats a good sailor. Sharin' with his mates. Us corsairs gotta stick t'gether. Watch out fer the mice on their little rafts trying ter stop us from slavin'." He glances back to his boat. "I've got some fruit in me longboat. Shall I grab it?"

Giving a silent nod at Jarril, Triss points outfive hares and gestures them to follow her. "Aye...noisy lot..." she murmurs quietly, her small group arming themselves at a wave of her paw. "Wait for Jarril's command, an' keep quiet..." she whispers, taking her group off to the left of the corsair camp..."Low an' quiet..." she says to her group, crouching behing a dune, just able to see Jarril.

Saltar breaks into a laugh. "Call yerself a corsair, do ye? Fruit indeed! If I was sober, I'd challenge y' to a duel, I would!"

Lor chuckles a bit. "What do ye eat if not fruit ye stole from woodlanner villages? We eat what we can take. Better feedin' ourselves than them."

The archers nock arrows to their bowstrings uneasily, eyeing the group of corsairs.

Spiredown chuckles and chews thoughtfully at a bone. "A fruit. Fruitiest fruit that every sailed the sea." O.o;

Oxeye slips into Zoe's small group, wordless as always. He seems rather unfazed by the noisy corsairs...   He looks around curiously, though, but says nothing.

Jarril slowly makes his way up the sand-dune with his lot and stops before he reaches the top and listens for a few moments, turning his head back and nods for his lot to get ready.  The hare takes out his own bow and loosely fits a arrow.  Taking a deep breath he pops his head up and calls out.  "Hey, do ya mind, ya so bally loud that it's like listening ta dibbuns crying about getting a bath, wot!"  Jarril's head is in view and he calls out.  "Mind keeping it down and all.  This area used ta be jolly quiet and all."  Quickly, Jarril ducks his head back again.

Spiredown scratches his head." 'Ey! What the heck was tha?"

Lor turns to see the hare, and motions to his crew. "Back ter the boat. Keep low." As he utters his order, Lors crew make a dash for it, and begin to slide the boat back down the shore, keeping behind it, and going slow.

Jarril makes some motions of his hares to get ready, his ears giving signals, speaking softly.  "When I give the word...."

Saltar whirles around, in time to spot Jarril's head disappear. Immediately, he springs into action, whispering orders to one guard. "And we corsairs have to stick together, don't we, Livin' Legend? That was an insult to corsairness! Come back 'ere! Men, nock yer arrows and shoot at anything that moves." The beast he ordered comes back with a bucket of seawater, which he promptly splashes on Saltar's head.

Delvei instantly has both axe and sword out and glances at where the insults are coming from and sees the hare's head before it drops out of sight and he moves and overturns the table, making it a shield which the corsairs can hide behind.

Trying to keep the sirk from her face at Jarril's insult, Triss nocks an arrow to her bow, lowering her ears so as they're not seen beyond the dune. "Archers...ready..." she murmurs, giving a quick glance at three hares following her who hold bows. The rest arm themselves with small throwing weapons. "A'right...wait for 'is order..." she mutters, her legs tense, ready to bound past the dune.

Spiredown gingerly takes his blade out and snorts. "Meh, I have to mar my pretty blade. Hey, shouldn't we take a peek over there? See wots up?"

Lor laughs at them. "I ain' leavin' yet. You fools take cover like us." Lor's crew have begun to nock their bows and take aim at the dune where the hare appeared. Lor holds his bow, ready to release. "We're right there with ya mateys."

Oxeye hefts his javelin, shaking his head. The big hair watches Zoe with anticipation, tightening his grip. But he keeps silent, not bothering to taunt the corsairs.

Saltar nods at Delvei. "Blasted good thinkin'," he mutters, ducking behind the table and ignoring the cold seawater dripping from him. He orders his archers behind, and they lift their heads and bows, ready to fire and duck when the hares appear.

To the right of Jarril's lot, and nearly exactly opposite Triss', Zoe raises a paw silently, issuing the sign to raise bows and knock arrows, for those who have them. Three hares do so. "Wait fer the signal."

Jarril looks to the left and nods to Triss before turning his head to Zoe and nods again before his ears stand up but out of sight.  The major ready to drop his ears for the signal.  Talking to a hare beside him.  "Go tell Triss ta go and take care of that boat.  Keep them busy while me and Zoe will take care of these here."  The hare nods and moves off to where Triss is to belay the order.

Spiredown comes to the back of the table by Saltar. He ducks. "Should we tip this baby over jus' in case?"

Jarril tightens his arrow.  "Steady, chaps."  He takes another deep breath and dropping his ears, both he and three hares get up and unleash their arrows, dropping down as quickly as they leave their bows.

Lor and his three crewbeasts fire back at the hares just as they come up, and quickly reload their bows.

Zoe_Lang returns the nod from Jarril with a ready smirk. "Wait fer it... wait fer it... Keep her arrows ready..." Silently, she twists the end of her walking stick (not so much a walking stick as a metal rod) and removes the end casing, revealing a sword beneath. And, upon seeing the signal, she raises the sword into the air, giving her own signal, and her archers pop up, aiming as briefly as possible and firing, as well, before popping back down.

The arrows of the long patrol mostly whizz over the tops of the archer's heads as they duck, though some hit the table and one grazes Saltar's ear. Five arrows shoot off into the dunes.

Delvei throws himself flat as the arrows come in, one coming close to shaving his head as he growls and slams a fist into the sand and says, "Hellgates! We should have brought more guards."

Spiredown points to Lor. "That's why we have sir Bumbleboots."

Giving a decisive nod as she's given Jarril's orders, she nods to her patrol to store bows, doing the same herself. "Foller me..." she whispers, moving off a distance from Jarril and Zoe's group until she's within a good distance of the boat pulled ashore, she raises a paw. "You all see the lines at th' top o' the mast?" she murmurs. A few nod, others squint. "I'll get the big one, you all put as many holes in that boat as y'can, aye?" she orders, her group nocking arrows and aiming knives. "A'right...." she raises a paw, peering over the dune. Lowering her paw, she pops up from behind the dune as well, letting loose an arrow at the top line of the mast, holding up the frame for the sail. The shaft whizzes past, and a silent curse exits her lips.

Oxeye loads his sling with a few pebbles. He wishes he had a bow, and considers finding someone to teach him when he returns... He murmurs softly, looking at Zoe... but decides not to interrupt. For the moment, he will remain behind the archers, javelin in paw.

As soon as Zoe's lot has fired, Jarril and his crew go up again and fire their bows, before ducking down, one hare getting hit in the shoulder this time around from the barrage.  As soon as he's doon, the hare puts another bow in his longbow, ready again.

Barking out orders to drop down low as a couple arrows fly in the directon of Zoe's flank, Zoe glances across to Jarril just as an arrow whizzes by her face. Blinking reflexively, she jerks back, but still gives the signal when it's her lots turn to fire arrows again. "Keep firin' 'til Jarril says otherwise, ye lot!"

Lor and company fire back at the hares, loosing several arrows. After a demonstration from Lor, his crew begin to shoot through the small holes for the oars that have been made in the boat, letting them shoot without exposing themselves. "Keep shootin', an' watch the flanks!"

K-thunk. Thunk. "Bah!" Spiredown's ear gets a new piercing. He ducks lower. "That's me good ear!"

Saltar orders his archers to fire, but a devious look crosses his mind. He grabs at the squirrel and reaches for his dagger, holding it up to her throat. Abrubtly, he stands up, making it visible he can kill the squirrel the next second. "Cease fire!"

Delvei sighs and curses, swearing to get himself a bow when he returns to the fort as he just sits behind the table, clearly not worried that much about getting shot.

Meanwhile, Saltar's toes scrawl out a message in the sand to the archer lieutenant.

Suddenly, an arrow thunks solidly into the opposite side of the table just to the right of Delvei's head.

Spiredown slips his blade into its sheath and fingers for his bow. He slips it out along with an arrow. "Whee. A bow. I'll give that JOLLY hare what's coming for him! I'll do more than graze his bushy tail."

Jarril holds his paws up to stop his side to stop firing.  "Alright, stop firing."  He stays where he is and peeks over the top and wonders what they're up to.  Getting two runners.  "Go get reports from the other two officers."  They nod and run off in both directions.  Jarril muttering.  "What the bally are they up ta now."

Lor holds his fire, for the moment, but keeps his eyes peeled for hares. His crew is silent as they wait.

Jarril ceases fire and looks over the top quickly and frowns.  "Why the..."  He quickly ducks again and motions two hares to go get reports from Zoe and Triss.  While waiting for that he calls out over the sand-dune.  "Alright, ya got our attention.  What do ya want?"  His voice calling over to Salter.

Saltar hits the squirrel with his free paw to emphasize. "Listen, you landlubbers!" he shouts. His archers slowly stand up--no, wait, only too of them. "Ye've already killed three of my men," he shouts. An absolute lie, but he says it with enough anger in his voice for it too sound relatively true. "But if ye've honor you'll drop -yer- weapons and stand up to show we can trust you won't shoot us. We'll give you Dounric. All I need is three beasts to advance to the middle of the shore, 'n me and two other beasts---my living archers---will come and give you the squirrel in exchange for safeconduct out of arrow range."

The runners report to Triss and Zoe and they both report what they can - no casualties so far - and send them back.

As the two parties shout at each other, Lor watches both, waiting for the hares to pull some sort of deception.

Giving a shocked blink at the corsair's actions, for she can see them far better from her angle than Jarril. "Wot on earth is that vermin doin'?" she asks, more to herself, her lot of hares peering around the dune. "Oh tha's bloody brilliant..." she grumbles, giving a look in Jarril's direction.

Jarril frowns for a moment, listens to the reports and then to what Salter has to say.   Sending a report back to Zoe, he frowns and waits before calling back.  "Hang on, we have ta discuss it."   The messenger goes and relays that Jarril requires the Colonel's advisement.

Biting her lips as Saltar issues his 'suggestion', Zoe peaks over the edge of her sand dune, her eyebrows widening as she spies the squirrel. "Oh, Jarril... Do what ye think is best, but please don't do what he says.." This is whispered softly to herself, for only herself to hear, and the colonel ducks back down, closing her eyes for a brief moment and taking a deep breath. "All we c'n do is wait, now, lads.."

Lor whispers to his crew. "Get ready ter slide the boat, an' stay low."

One of the patrol healers is tending to the hare that got the arrow in his shoulder, putting a poultice onto it and muttering.  "Ya should be okay until we get ya back to the mountain, wot.  Easy, easy.."  Wrapping some bandage around the wound.  "Good job it didn't hit anything vital."

Receiving the report and the request for advisement, Zoe lets out a hearty sigh and whispers softly to the runner what she wishes Jarril to do. "Hurry on back with that, lad.. Hurry fast."

Saltar waits in his standing up position.

Lamerok puts away his weapons and sits behind the table drinking from his bottle.

Jarril listens to what the runner has to say and nods his head, coming to the same conclusion and calls back out.  "I have a better suggestion for ya."  Jarril slowly puts another arrow into his bow as he shouts back out.  "Why not just leave the squirrel along, back away and no harm will come ta ya.  But if that squirrel dies, then I hope ya prepared ta bally well face the consequences."  Turning his head to a runner, he speaks quietly.  "Go run back to the mountain, go get reinforcements."  The runner nods and runs off.  Calling out again.  "So what about it?"

Lor calls out. "Jes' torture the beast in front of 'em then! Don' kill it though!" He and his crew slowly inch the boat down, having a hard time as they try to stay hidden.

Delvei frowns and stands up, whispering into Saltar's ear

Lor exclaims, "Poke some holes in it!" calls one of Lor's crew."

Glancing over the sand dune and in the direction of Triss, Zoe's eyes light up with an idea. "Hrm... Fritz! Ovah here. Go an' tell Triss to make her way ovah here.. Tell her t' put her lieutenant in charge, wot, and get right on ovah here! Without bein' seen, mind ya."

Saltar looks troubled and kicks one of the hiding archers. "Got to the fort and get reinforcements, double quick," he mutters. "I think that's a horrible suggestion. The second we get out of cover you'll shoot us if we just leave the squirrel, 'cause then you'll have nothing to lose. Accept my proposition," he calls, lifting his dagger to Dounric's ear. "Or I'll start cutting things off. I dun' trust no woodies," he pauses as he hears Delvei. "Later, if this doesn't work," he mutters to the wildcat.

Recieveing the message sent to her, Triss point at her second in command and gives him a few quick orders. The hare nods, and takes up Triss' newly vacated position as the haremaid move off silently in Zoe's direction. Turning up rather unexpectedly behind the Colonel, she puts her head along side Zoe's peering slightly over the dune. "Aye?" she asks, her longbow still in her paw, no arrow on the string.

Lor's crew, who are almost into the water, have stopped, and they release two quick volleys at Triss's head where she is poking up as Lor peeks through an oarhole to watch whats happening.

Jarril gets a runner coming to him and listens before nodding, the runner runs off again back to Zoe.  Calling back out he replies.  "And we don't trust vermin either.  So I suppose we're stuck here for the time being."  Quickly he sends half of his hares to where Triss was without them seeing.

"I want ye to circle around behind him, quiet-like, a'right? When I give the signal, when I raise my sword in the air, you shoot your best and try to put that head vermin out, ya hear me? The squirrel, well.. we'll do our best t' keep it alive." Nodding a bit, and then noticing as the other hares come up behind Triss, she nods to them. "You c'n go with Triss, too. Quiet-like, now."

Delvei frowns and says, "Something's going on, Saltar." He glances at the dunes again and then down to Lor's crew.

Spiredown hrms. "Why are they taking so long?"

Lamerok looks at Saltar. "If i dont sssee ssssome action ssssoon i am leaving."

Jarril takes another quick peek over the dune and ducks down again.  "No deal.  Ya do our deal or else!"  Calling back.  But I warn ya.  That squirrel ends up getting hurt and all deals are off."

Lor and company use the lull in fighting to stand up for a moment and heave the boat into water it can float in. They quickly begin to hop in and get below the sides in case arrows start flying.

Saltar nods at Delvei. "Yeah, something's wrong." he pauses, and just then the beast he sent off to the fort stumbles back, gasping (it's not that far to the fort from here) and collapses in the sand. "They sent out a ship," he murmurs. "Oh, wonderful," Saltar says sarcastically. "I guess that's it then, is it?" he shouts at Jarril.

Nodding at Zoe, Triss shakes her head at the small gathering behind her. "No...they stay...I only wan' t'look after m'self..." she murmurs, pulling an arrow from her quiver and disappearing from Zoe's sight. Passing between dunes, staying completely out of sight, Triss winds her way through a bit of brush before coming to a dune almost behind Saltar. One of the LongPatrol's star archers shoulders up against the dune, nocking an arrow to her bow. FLicking an ear at Zoe, she waits for a signal, the haremaid still out of sight of all of Saltar's and Lor's crew...her target won't be missed.

Spiredown pats Lamerok. "Don't fret. We've got woodpidgeon if nuttin' happens."

Moving towards the beach from the east, is the large badger. Watching from a distance, Logain hefts his hafted axe onto his shoulder and looks at the large assortment of beasts battleing it out. He stops where he is and doesn't seem to get involved, keeping his distance from both sides or at least trying.

Saltar waits for Jarril to say something, not liking the situation one bit. "And?" he asks. "Oh, ten pikemen," the out-of-breath scout mutters. "They're pi**ed as rats, though, Archon."

Three beasts in the boat stand up and fire at the badger, quickly ducking down again. The longboat has begun to drift along the shore, toward the hare position.

Lamerok sighs and looks to Spiredown. "I wasss hoping for thissss to be more interesssting."

Jarril shouts back.  "Aye, that's it.  But ya can get out of this if ya leave the squirrel and go crawl back into whatever dark, smelly hole ya popped out from!"

Spiredown elbows Lamerok. "If we get to fight you take that badger. If he decides to fight against us. There's interestin' for ya."

The news of his soldiers being stoned doesn't help Saltar's temper much. A sail can be seen at sea. "And . . . Uh.  The crew of the ship's also as pi--" Saltar interrupts him with a kick.

The badger hits the dirt as the arrows fly by him. Logain stays low and holds his large axe in one paw. Now its obvious who's side he's gonna take..heh. He moves the opposite direction of where the hares hold their grounds, trying to find cover as he sticks to the woodlands to the east.

Saltar looks over at Lor's crew. "You bloody idiots!"

Taking a quick glance over the sand dune, and then passing a look to Jarril, Zoe smirks a bit, tears a strip from her under-blouse, and waves it above her head. "Aye! Hold ye fire! We've reconsidered! I'm comin' out, but ye release yer hold on tha' squirrel first! I'm not goin' to have ye slitting its thrown as soon as I stand!"

Spiredown eyes the badger, and mutters something.. Only loud enough for the Corsairs to hear. "Wow, I didn't know that Badger Lords were cowards." ;)

Lamerok laughs. "I dont think we will get our chance to  fight that badger the way thingsss are going right now."

Continuing her watch on Zoe, Triss gives a few look now and then at the corsairs, slightly reaiming her bow with every bit of moment Saltar makes.

"Don' trust 'em til three come out in the open!" Lor calls to the other corsairs from inside the boat as he drifts along in his longboat downshore, he is very close to the dune the hares are hiding behind.

Jarril stays where he is and looks at Zoe and mutters.  "What in the bally blue is she doing?"  He ducks his head back.

Spiredown is holding his bow beneath the table. With the arrow. He eyes the hares and glances at Saltar.

Saltar looks uncomfortable. "Listen, if I let go of her you can jus' shoot me, and the jolt I'd get wouldn't kill her. Go boil yer 'ead."

Lamerok looks at Saltar. "Is there any chance that i could eat here?" He laughs.

Jarril busies himself on what to do.  "If they get a colonel as hostage...."  He looks to the others.  "Come on.  We change position.  As soon as this turns ugly, we're gonna charge them, archers will fire cover."  The major hopes it won't go down to that but the hares move along the dune, further from the sea.

The badger keeps moving then stops as he stays on the sidelines, gripping his axe tightly. He moves, trying to stay hidden behind the dunes and trying to get behind the vermin upon the beach, opposite of Jarril and the LP.

You room-page, "Sorry, but you're really leaving me no choice on not getting this into a full scale war.  Anyhoo :)"

Spiredown scratches his head. "I wonder where that badger is. HEY. Wot's 'ee doin'?"

"What ye don't seem t' get is tha' we could just shoot ye -now-, boils for brains! Tha' squirrel's as good as dead, anyway, amongst yer lot, and I'd choose death over slavery -any- dead. I'm sure yer squirrel'd agree!" But, sighing in exasperation, Zoe gets tired of waiting. "But fine, have it yer way! I'll stand, you c'n fire yer happy arrows at me, and then ye c'n kill the squirrel -tha'- way, if it'll please ye. You vermin are all alike.." However, all this time she's been slowly moving, wiggling along on the sand to a different location. Finally, when she's satisfied that she's moved enough to throw their archers off at least a little bit, she pops up from behind the dune's cover, and, with a smirk, raises her sword in the air. She's apparently suicidal.

Spiredown grunts, and mutters again..quiet again too. ;) "She's tryin' to trick us! We fire at her an' then her archers shoot us."

Four arrows come from the longboat, aiming for the hares' position. Lor's boat has drifted enough that they can see the hares. Lor cackles, as he and his crew releaste two more quick volleys.

Finally getting the signal she's been waiting for, a dark look crosses Triss' face and she pops up behind the dune, her aim already taken. The LongPatrol's sharp-shooter looses a green-fletched arrow at Saltar's side, nocking another one to loose at his shoulder. Ducking back behind the dune, she doesn't bother to see if her shot hit its mark, but moves her position as fast as possible, making her a difficult target for the vermin archers.

Still trying to stay low despite his massive size, the woodsman badger moves across and around dunes, trying to get abit closer to the vermin. Logain then stops behind one dune and waits, tensing up and eyes beginning to redden....

Saltar notes that his previous plan won't bloody well work. He needs to backtrack, apparently. "I'll show y' the bloody goodness of the corsair oath," he mutters angrily. "Listen 'ere! I want your -whole- party to withdraw, and -swear- that you've withdrawn out of--" he stops, then curses. "You bloody!!!!!!!" he moves to order that the corsair's fire at Lor---then he gets hit in the back by the arrow and crumples to the ground, managing to murmer something. Lightly quick, his remaining archers stand up and shoot at Zoe_Lang.

And nya. Spiredown places the arrow on the string and fires at Zoe. He ducks behind the table and reloads.

Delvei frowns seeing as how what is going on, isent going well, he turns to Saltar only to see him go down, and Delvei moves to cover both Saltar and the squirrel, placing his axe to the squirrel's neck to keep her from moving and yells, "Cease fire or the squirel dies!"

Smiling triumphantly as Triss hits her mark beautifully, Zoe stands there a bit stupidly for a moment too long, but then she notices the arrows fly and ducks as quickly as she can. However, the first hits her squarely in the shoulder, knocking her back and off her feet, but luckily back behind the sand dune.

Jarril shouts back.  "Then leave the squirrel alive and retreat then, sah!  Otherwise we may as well continue on with this little charade!"

Patiently though his patience wearing very thin, Logain stays where he is, kneeling abit and ready to bolt if needed. His arms tense, axe raised slightly as the battle ensues.

The longboat drifts onto the shore and gets stuck. Lor and company hop out and quickly take cover, shooting at the hares again.

Saltar stands slowly up on shaking legs, the arrow protruding from his back. He pushes at Delvei, weakly, trying to get him to back off. "You spoke of my honor," he yells hoarsely at Jarril. "Great way to end it all, eh? Shot in the back by 'honorable' hares!" he shoves Dounric to the sand, reaches back, and snaps the arrow shaft in half. "Well, let me tell you something! I am seriously pissed!" he jumps over the top of the table and begins advancing towards the sand dune. Oy.

The hares left behind at Triss' flank are caught mostly unawares, though one raises a high, stark yell as he spots the boat pulling into sight. Some manage to duck away from the arrows, exposing only their back, but two of the four are hit squarely. The others attempt to drag them behind the protective cover of another sand dune, and just make it as the next birage of arrows is let fly.

Lamerok pulls out his broadsword and gets ready to fight with a wide smile.

Spiredown grins and pats Lamerok. "That's the spirit matey!" He jerks his thumb. "Look for the badger."

Lor advance quickly, as they are hidden from the rest of the action by the dune. They run in pursuit of the hares, knifing the downed ones in the chest as they pass. Pausing, they take cover and fire again at the hares.

Delvei nods and orders the archers to get down and is about to say something but he reaches a paw over and grabs Saltar, yanking him back over the table, though not a bit too roughly and forces a paw to him and says, "Stay down sir!" He yells, "Hare, deal with the corsairs in the boat however you like, their arent of our group. But I have a better solution that should satisfy you and me."

Lamerok looks at Spiredown. "How am i ssssupposssed to find find him?"

Spiredown snorts. "I dunno. Watch the dunes? Or the woods? Or use that fancy tounge of yours."

Wincing, but still smiling, considering her little part a success, Zoe holds a paw over the arrow wound, snapping off the arrow as close to the skin as she can. That done, she stands to a crouch, spies an injured hare nearby, and with a wince drags this hare back behind another dune further back, ministering to him there as well as she can.

Jarril looks over the edge and see's everything is happening.  "Oh for."  He calls out.  "Right.  Get ready..."  He spots Saltar and shrugs.  "First line, fire, duck and reload.  Second line, fire, duck and reload, third line, fire, duck and reload.  First line, fire, duck and reload...."  The arrows come over thick and fast now in the direction of Saltar and the other vermin.

Saltar struggles to his feet, trying to push Delvei away. "No compromises! They'll just shoot us! Again!" And it as it this exact moment that a ship comes along, with a drunken crew merrily singing and hurling cracked bottles of whiskey at the shore. "Ho ho ho!

Lor and company retreat again, firing arrows as they go. Quickly, they shove off, and begin to row like mad, braving the rough waves as they head for an approaching speck on the horizon.

Spiredown ducks and growls. "I should poke my blade up their-" Thunk. "Ah!" He places another arrow on the string and grunts. "Get down gits! They're givin us 'ell!"

Delvei yanks Saltar down again and shoves a paw down on Saltar as the arrows come in and yells, "Cease fire hares!" He shoves the squirrelmaid up as a beast shield to end the shooting.

Lor circle back for a moment to the point on the beach closest to the other corsairs. "They are still in the water a ways, but very close to the corsairs. "Get o'er here mateys! Ye can' win this un." Lor calls, waiting for a moment to see if the corsairs take his offer.

Jarril calls out.  "Ceasefire!  Ceasefire!"

Then it hits..and it hits hard. Logain jumps up from the dune and charges, eyes dark red, axe in paws. He swings it at any vermin coming at him, trying to cleave their heads from their shoulders and trying to move out of harms way of arrows.

Jarril calls out.  "What now?  Ready ta give up and do as I say or should I just keep them firing?!"

Spiredown taps Lamerok. "Er...dude. The badger. He's  COMING FOR US!"

A whiskey bottle from the ship strikes one of Saltar's archers, who howls. The ship sails on past the fighting, them singing merrily about ships and sails and winds. "Lamerok!" Saltar cries. "The badger! Men, duck down and shoot him down!" he pokes his head over the top of the table and grins at Jarril. "Fire at us till kingdom come!"

Jarril quickly gets the hares to check on how many arrows they have left while waiting for a answer.

And Spiredown aims and fires with his bow at the badger. Nya. "'ell on earth!"

Oxeye wakes from his nap at the edge of the dune, safe from arrows. He leaps up with his javelin, looking around. Clearing his throat, he takes in what's happened in his absence... He grumbles softly and slips off to follow in the badger's tracks, regardless of orders... no bow, anyway.

Lamerok stands up and gets ready to attack the badger. "Will anyone be helping me?"

Lor calls once more to the corsairs. "Last chance mates. He glances over his shoulder for a moment, at the speck out on the water, ready to break for it.

Jarril smiles and nods his head.  "As you will.  Continue fire!"  The arrows come quick and fast again.  Looking to Oxeye.  "Steady.  Steady..."

"VERMIN SCUM!!!" The voice of Logain booms out as Spiredowns arrow hits the blade of his axe as the badger charges into the frey, swinging the weapon here and there, trying to seemingly kill as many as possible.

Spiredown glances at Lor. Then at Saltar. Then at the Badger. Whee. "Saltar, should we ship out?" K-thunk, thunk. Thunk thunk thunk. "Gah, we need a distraction!"

Delvei grabs both Saltar and the squirrelmaid, holding her as a shield from the arrows as he runs towards Lor's boat.

Oxeye looks over his shoulder at Jarril, grinning cooly. He shifts his grip on the javelin. "Pardon, Major..." he mumbles, then slips back to hold a whispered conversation with the officer.

The beasts in the boat provide cover fire, shooting volley after volley at the badger.

Jarril raises his arm to let the other hares know that they are about to charge under the cover of the arrow fire.  "Ta charge lad.  Ya ready?"

But Spire's arrow deflects off the axe and hits his left shoulder but the badger keeps moving despite the wound.

Oxeye sets his jaw and cracks his knuckles ominously, the javelin shoved in the sand. Then lifting his weapon, he looks straight over the dune... "Ready," he grunts, his voice just a murmur among the ready calls of the troops.

Jarril gets up and lets a longbow arrow zip off in the general direction of one of Saltar's archers and ducks down.

Oh, look who it is. Just in time, too. Preypacer manages to gimp up near Jarril, a crude spear in paw. "Late for tea, am I?"

Spiredown waves his paw. "No no no! Not only the badger! That monitor has him! Distract /everyone/!" He winces. "I want my mommy!"

Delvei reaches the boat, throwing Saltar and the squirrelmaid in, and says, "get us out of here mate." to Lor as he shouts, "Get out of there mates! Tis not a good day to die!"

Spiredown runs madly over to the boat. Nya.

Jarril nods and looks at the squirrel.  "Try and get the squirrel.  CHARGE!"  The major giving the other hares the order to go down.  "First line fire, duck, reload, second line, fire, duck, reload...."

The arrows fly down at the badger, blood rippling down his form as his left arm is hit with another arrow and his left upper leg gets hit as well. He grabs a dead vermin guard and hoists him in front of him with one arm and retreats backwards, a trail of blood coming from him, the body getting riddled with arrows as he slides down a dune after his left thigh is hit again.

Lor continues firing at the hares and the badger. "Give 'em a second more. Be ready ter row mates."

Oxeye sprints over the dune. He stands for a moment, upright, on the verge of the dune. He scans the little vale beneath, then bounds down towards the horde, heedless of arrows. He's sprinting right for Delvei, carrying Salter and the squirrelmaid, his javelin clenched in his paw. He grins, silent as ever, as he descends on the vermin... his mission clear.

Lamerok runs after the badger. Using his tongue to follow its scent.

Crouched behind a dune, arrows slamming into it, Logain begins to snap the arrows off one by one. Two arrows in his left thigh, arrow to his right shoulder and many slices of others across his face and sides. He growls loudly.

Spiredown runs to the boat and hops into it. "I have a life to live! Lamerok! Get over here!"

"Urry up mates!" Lor calls, and drops his bow, and grabs an oar. His crew does likewise. The speck on the horizon has moved closer. It is a ship, with big white sails, which have a red circle on them. "Get ready ter row."

Oxeye is upon the wildcat in a moment, his javelin raised. He thwacks at Delvei's back and shoulders, then throws his weapon aside. Reaching to spin the cat around, he deftly seizes the squirrel under the arms and moves to leap aside, his eyes narrowed and staring right at the cat.

Lamerok runs toward the boat as fast as he can. "What do you want Spire.?"

The badger hears the monitor following and grips his axe. He spits at the ground and gets ready to meet blades, the wrath flowing with him. Logain is ticked.

Pelting around the dunes, Triss gets grazed by several arrows, all making deep ruts in her skin as they fly past her. Taking more time to reach Zoe then she would have liked, Tris wraps and arm around the Colonel's middle dragging her from behind the dune and rather far off from the battle. "I'll getcher a healer, Zoe," she murmurs, looking at the blood running from the wound in the Colonel's shoulder. "I've got to get back..." she leaves the Colonel as a healer appears beside her, Triss running back to the dunes.

Delvei eyes Oxeye and then his paw free, he draws his longsword, slashing at Oxeye's back and striking a long horizontal slash on him, he turns and jumps in the boat with Saltar and says, "Row!"

Jarril fires off a arrow, trying to wound Spiredown, which hits the sand the second he was just at and makes specks of the yellow sand shoot up.  "Damn."  Jarril mutters as he ducks down.

The boat sprints away as most of the corsairs get on, headed for the Red Ring off in the distance.

Spiredown puts an arrow on the string of his bow and fires at Oxeye. "Go ahead, make my dinner!"

Oxeye grunts and stumbles in mid-flee. He manages to escape over the dune, a dark stain spreading over his tunic... Spiredown's arrow barely misses him, catching his left foot glancingly. With a growl, he bursts over the dune and out of sight, still hefting the squirrelmaid...

Grabbing the dead guard he had with him with one arm, Logain holds it up like a corpse shield, body full of arrows. The badger moves uyp from the dune, left paw now holding his axe tightly getting ready one more to try and cleave any vermin that come near.

Jarril fires another arrow in Lamerok's direction, before ducking down again and not knowing if he hit true or not.

Growling as she catches Spiredown nock and loose an arrow at Oxeye, Triss pops up in a space between two dunes, aiming and loosing her never failing shot on Spiredown. The arrow sinks itself just below the ferret's collar bone...Hmm..interesting...she didn't go for the kill c.c

Spiredown drops his bow and holds his shoulder. "Gahhh! Stupid! Hare! Nya!"

Lamerok starts swimming toward the beach not far from where the fighting took place. The arrow misses him as he starts swimming faster.

Eventually the major Jarril stops his archers from firing since the ammo is getting seriously low.  "Cease fire, they're retreating."  He orders and looks over the dune again quickly and ducks back down.

Moving towards the hares, bloody flesh shield in paw, Logain watches the vermin ship push off. A long trail of blood follows the massive beast as he growls loudly.

Lamerok swims up to the beach and starts running toward the woods. Not to far away from the hares.

"I ain't low on nothin' yet..." Triss murmurs, taking another arrow from her quiver and loosing it at another unfortunate vermin, who falls. "Stupid vermin..." she grumbles, finally ceasing her fire now that they're retreating.

A small wooden boat float lazily along the shore line. In the boat is the burly otter, Iomega. Iomega grunts as he spots the monitor. "Oy, what the blazes is goin' on?"

Jarril begins to make orders.  "I want a full damage report, now!"  He looks about quickly.  "Runner, go to Triss and get her to arrange ta get this patrol ready ta move off back ta the mountain.  I want ta get there before nightfall."  The major not liking to be so few in numbers now when it gets dark.

Iomega holds a paw to his ear. He is in the boat. Opposite to the woods. "What matey? Speak up scaley!"

The badger keeps moving and then stops as he looks over at the group of hares and then at the retreating monitor. He throws the dead body to the ground and takes his axe double-pawed again as the corsairs move off.

Oxeye mrphs, groaning weakly -- he's on the far side of the dune, out of sight from Jarril. He groggily tries to check to see if the squirrel is alright... With a heave, he sets her down and rips off his tunic, bloodied as it is, and tries his best to keep her comfortable.

Jarril watches the monitor just dissappear behind some foilage and shakes his head.  "Let it go, I ain't in the bally mood ta go chasing it down."  Looking around he sighs.  "Besides we have some hares ta attend ta and bring home."  Moving his head to where the badger is, Jarril smiles.  "Thank ya sah for helping us."

Iomega scratches his head. "A corpse wielding badger. An' a running monitor. A half-score of hares. Neh, war." He shores his boat and heaves a woven pack out of the small boat. The otter approaches the hares. "Ahoy mateys, need a healin' paw?"

Lamerok i didnt go anywhere i stopped to talk to the boat guy

Triss recieves Jarril's message through the runner, grumbling as she slings her longbow over her shoulder again. "A'right..." she murmurs, moving from her shooting spot to the hares she in charge of. "A'right...pack up 'all...we're 'eadin' back t'the mount'n..." she counts her patrol. "Where's Ox?" she asks, scuttling back up the dune to spy the hare lying on some rather rosy coloured sand. "Oy!" she yelps, vaulting over the dune. "You! Squirrel, get be'ind the dune, NOW!" she barks, the terrified beast running behind the dune to join Triss' patrol. "Aye, a 'ealin' paw would do us some good!" Triss replies to the otter floating a ways offshore. "C'mon in!"

Lamerok seeing that there is nothing for him to do he runs into the woods.

Iomega smacks his odd sort of Sea Otter-ish smirk on his face. "Oy. Ye all look like ye took a beatin'. What got ye, crabs?" He places the woven sack on the ground. "'Ere's some meager healin' stuff. Like bandages an' some field-poultice mixtures. Good fer sea fightin', eh heh."

Growling still for a moment, Logain looks at Jarrill, eyes blazingly red. He places the axe to his back. "Your welcome...I could use some aid as well. I am Logain, A woodsbeast from Southsward."

Oxeye smiles weakly, watching the squirrel go. He turns to Triss and nods, stumbling up to his paws before collapsing again as she moves on. He groans, still a good deal away from the main core of the group.

Jarril nods his head slowly and stands up at the top of the sand-dune and looks about.  "Welcome Loogain.  Major Fleetpaw, Jarril Black Fleetpaw at ya service.  Sorry for the kind of welcome ta our part of the lands."

Iomega pulls seaweed out from his ear and salutes with a smirk. "An' I'm Iomega Willowbrook, at ye service."

Iomega winks. "Wot wot."

"What of the squirrel...?" Logain speaks out loudly as he sits down, grimacing as he looks over his numerous wounds. "Good to meet you Jarril...yes."

Oxeye room-pages, "I pulled her out. The squirrel is alive and Triss sent it off to join her troops.".

Jarril looks about and doesn't see the squirrel.  "Probably run off, we found her held against her will by those sea corsairs."  The hare frowns.  "Lucky that we were on a patrol in this region."

Other hares are arranging the wounded and the dead as the cleanup continues.

"It is good she lives." Logain goes to stand then stops as he rips off some pieces of his cloak and goes about bandaging his leg.

Iomega grunts as he begins to make a poultice on a bandage. "Wot happened to you lot? Sea Corsair's did ye say? Aye matey, I've met me own worth o' them."

Getting up finally, the badger bandages his arm wounds quickly. Logain looks around at all the carnage and sighs. "The battle was won but many were lost. I will aid your cause."

Jarril nods his head.  "We haven't seen many of them in this area for a while, but looks like they've come back."  He turns to listen to another hare and nods.  "If ya excuse me, I have ta get things arranged.  Take the dead back and all ta be buried."  The hare also noting that he has to get back to make the report on a possible attack on the mountain itself.

Oxeye ceases his moaning, his eyes closing. He breathes slowly, then finally lifts himself. Seizing his abandoned javelin, he leans heavily on it. His ripped back exposed, without his tunic, he stumbles off in the vague direction of the mountain, not sure where everyone is due to his weakened state.

"May I join you to this...mountain?" Logain booms out and spots Oxeye. He goes to the hare and  offers a large paw. "Let me help you."

Iomega heaves up his basket and follows heed. "Er ...I can help too. Got some minor skills in healin' but heck its useful."

Jarril looks back and nods.  "Aye.  Thank you."  The hare goes back to wondering on how to make the report to Lord Bludstripe and surviving the anger to come after it.  Helping up another hare, he dusts off the young fighter and smiles.  "Ya did good, laddo.  Like a real true long patroller."

Oxeye grits his teeth at Logain, unable to focus his vision. He steps away, shaking his head ruefully. "Tis only a minor wound... help the others," he grunts coldly, motioning to the rest of the wounded and dying. He catches a familiar whiff on the air and moves towards Jarril, leaning heavily on his weapon. "Pardon Major... can I do anything else to help?" he asks, when Jarril isn't busy with the other LPers.

Iomega catches up with the badger and grins. "I wonder if we'll meet that Badgerlord."

Jarril looks at Oxeye and frowns.  "Ya sah, are ta allow ta be helped.  That's a order."  He smiles and adds softly.  "Ya done enough help really.  Much appreciated lad but let others help ya out now, hmm?"

"Badger Lord?" Logain cracks a grin. "That is what the vermin called me." He shakes his head. "I am lord of the woodlands if lord of anything." He nods to Oxete after speaking to Iomega. Logains eyes go to Jarril. "I may join you Jarril?" He moves to pick up one of the injured hares and place him/her on his good shoulder.

Iomega raises his bag to Oxeye. "Matey, lemme help ye. Ye need somethin' better than' yer mothers healin' touch an' a flan."

Oxeye narrows his eyes at well, looking back at the officer with more than slight resentment. But strength failing, he grunts and backs down. He glares heatedly at the otter as he approaches, but doesn't say a word in objection. Still leaning on his staff and dripping steadily. Well, at least he'll be able to practice in the archery range with all his time off from duty.

Jarril nods his head.  "Aye, I just said so."  He watches as some hares have gone off to the forest and coming back with made hammocks to carry those that can't walk back.  Several hares are busy burying the dead as best as they can, deciding that it wouldn't be possible to bring them home.

"Honored." Logain nods to Jarril. He hoists the form of one hare abit on his shoulder and goes to grab Oxeye with his other bandaged arm and place him to his other shoulder. "I walk for you." He begins to head off after the other hares.

Iomega erms, and plops down his sack. He pulls out a bandage with a poultice he made a few moments ago. The bandage is carefully placed on Oxeye. "Hey mate. You'll be fine."

Oxeye grumbles loudly in complaint at both Iomega and Logain's services. With an indignant hrmph, the hare slips from the badger's grip and lands with an unnatural thud on the beach. Raising to his full height, he looks around stubbornly -- not about to be hefted around like a sack of potatoes. He instead catches sight of the squirrelmaid and moves, speaking in a weak voice to her. Together, leaning on his javelin and with her help, he moves off after the others...

Slowly with the help of Major Triss and Jarril, the long patrol slowly get themselves together, wounds being treated, dead being buried while weapons are cached and prepared to be brought back.  Stones are placed slowly over where the dead hares lie to stop any predators getting at them.  Jarril keeps moving about, making sure that the remaining hares that are alive are okay and keeping eye on those that are wounded even moreso.  "Alright, we be moving off soon.  Make sure that ya all got everything and don't forget nothing either."

Iomega sighs, and trudges ahead with the group of hares. Plus one badger. Wheee.

"You have the blood of a badger within your veins." Logain watches Ox slip off his shoulder. "Good." He looks at Iomega and then goes about trying to help as much as he can despite being hurt.

Jarril slowly moves to where Colonel Zoe is and kneels down as she is placed on a stretcher.  Holding her paw he sighs and looks to the hare next to her.  "How is she?"  He asks quietly.  The hare smiles.  "She be fine.  I gave her something ta lessen the pain.  Oh, and we found this next ta her as well, wot."  The hare handing the walking stick over.  Taking it, Jarril nods and gets up with a smile.  "Tough one that she is."

Oxeye glances at Zoe and Jarril, but then asks the squirrel to guide him over to Triss, where he falls in line beside her, holding a brief conversation...

Moving away from Ox as other tend to him, Triss walks to Jarril, pulling a comforting paw on his shoulder. "Dun worry, Zoe'll be fine," she gives him a wink, smiling and moving off to others, helping wherever she can. "Y'alright, Ox?" Triss asks, looking her companion up and down.

The badger sits down for a few moments and askes a hare to help wrap his wounds better. Logain looks around constantly and begins to clean off his axe with a small cloth.

Finally, the patrol begin their journey, slowly back to where the mountain lies, Jarril keeps to Zoe's side at all times.  A small frown etched on his face like stone from worry, guilt and renewed resentment to any sea pirate, vermin flowing through his veins.

Iomega goes to help a hare along. "Tail up, ears perked, matey. If ye c'n shovel off pastries then ye c'n shovel off a few Corsairs."

Oxeye nods at Triss, waving a paw and asks her a few questions that have nothing to do with his current condition -- only about archery lessons. Next time, Ox won't sit out half the battle while the bow-hares get all the fun ;)

Getting back to his footpaws after a haremaid aids him abit, the badger hoists his large axe back into its sheathe. He looks around again and helps carry anyone who needs it. Logain follows after Jarill. "I have heard of this Salamandstron but was not ever there, perhaps I may meet this Badger Lord you all honor?"

Iomega looks up at Logain. Think you know what he wants too. ;)

"Aye, I'll do that for ya Ox..." she murmurs, to the hare beside her. Readjusting her bow across her shoulders, the Major answers Ox's questions. "S'harder than it looks, love..." she murmurs, grinning despite herself. The arrow wounds across Triss' shoulders and upper back begin to take their toll as the patrol marches back to the mountain. Catching Ox's paw as she stumbles with weariness, she immedieately straightens, grunting and moving off again.

Jarril nods his head slowly.  "He be happy ta see ya I am sure however I don't think he be amused by the current news heading his way."  The hare continues to look ahead of the sand laying out before him.  "Hopefully the corsairs will get wise and not show themselves again."

Iomega grunts. He places both of his arms underneath the hare's. "Corsair's ain't the wise type, matey. Trus' me."

Oxeye tilts his head, watching Triss curiously... He ponders for a moment if he should follow, but decides against it... "Time, right?" he grunts, looking down at the squirrel with a foolish grin. The squirrel looks confused, but smiles. The hare chuckles weakly, glancing at Triss again as she continues to move through the patrol. Then, hefting his javelin, he holds his head a little higher and marches forward, despite the wound.

"You have now more paws in your battle Jarril. I live not for battle but for reading and relaxing within the woodlands. But when evil comes, I will help quelch its thirst..." Logain's face seems to hold little emotion as he looks at the Major. "With my axe."

Jarril doesn't reply and wonders how two male badgers are going to cope living with each other in the same place, something else to look forward to and keep way out of it if the major can manage to do so without ending up in the middle.

Iomega muses. "Hey, I thought badgers don't get along well." ;)

As the hours pass, the long patrol see the large mountain up ahead, the patrol well spotted in the distance as other hares come out to give assistance.  Some other colonels go directly to where Jarril is and begin to drill him about everything that happened.

Oddly, Logain goes to stand behind Jarril and crosses his large arms over his chest. His bandages are bloodied and yet he seems not bothered by it. He seems to just tower over everyone...and seems to like it as he begins to slowly grin again.

"I say we celebrate tonight, taste the ale and eat till we cannot eat no more. If the vermin return, the grounds of the mountains of Salamandstron will be coated in their blood, and we will defeat them. Their blood shall rain down like rivers from Salamandstron's sides. To attack you, would be to ask for death..." Logain nods as he speaks quietly.

Jarril continues to explain the situation, pointing out the squirrel before continuing on with his report.  "Unfortunately ta deter the corsairs we did lose some hares.  However we couldn't allow them ta keep a slave no matter wot."  The major continues to talk again as his voice fades from all the background noise.

Oxeye looks up as Jarril tries to explain to the other officers. He sidles over, ushering the squirrelmaid along for the colonels to view in plainer sight. Then he slips back, limping away to find Triss :P

"Aye, but the truth." Logain looks at Iomega, the grin gone. "No matter how many come if any do at all, we will win." He moves to place a large paw on Jarril's shoulder. "You fight well."

Iomega continues to trudge along with the others. "Aye. We'll have to badgers, a pawful of hares and ...an otter! You know what Otters can do, can ye?" He chuckles and winks. "An' /Sea/ otters c'n do a whole lot more!"

Iomega walks along. Yes.

"I know what otters do well.." Logain stays near Jarril, waiting for a reply. "They talk too much..." He smirks slightly.

Jarril continues to discuss things and nods before turning to the others.  "Some will show ya where ta go in the mountain.  Ya have ta leave ya weapons outside though.  I have ta go and write up my report."

Iomega smirks. "Hey, that ain't true! At least I c'n walk around without letting the whole world know it!"

"May I leave my axe with you, Jarril? It goes where I go but I trust you will keep it safe. It is like a part of me..a weapon and a tool." Logain grips the hilt of the large axe in one paw as he pulls it from its sheathe, pointed at the ground.

Blinking, Logain looks at Iomega. "Let the vermin hear me coming....they would be wise to run the other way."

Jarril nods.  "It will be left in the armoury where it will remain safe."

Iomega snickers. "Make sure one of your hares don't mistake it for some other weapon an' take it."

Jarril looks down at the axe.  "I don't think any hare would be able ta carry that on their own, wot."

Iomega shrugs. "Then your Badger Lord might take it. Unless he's got some fancy weapon."

Jarril grins.  "Oh he has his weapon of choice."  The hare giving a smirk.  "Our lords like their weapons ta be big and devastating."

Iomega smirks. "I thought they were big and devastatin' to begin with."

Jarril smiles.  "When ya have ya own forge.  Ya can make ya own weapon ta ya own specifications, doncha know."

"I doubt the Badger Lord would have a reason to take hold of my weapon." Logain looks at the otter. "Nor wish to wield it though it would be a honor for him to wish to." He looks at Jarril. "As is my own Jarril, but a axe is not but a weapon but a tool. It was in my family for many generations friend. It built our families homes..." He blinks. "A forge?"

Iomega rubs his tattooed shoulder. "Ah. Don't ye all got everythin' short of a cottage in thar?"

Jarril looks and has to go.  "I have ta get going, if ya want.  I show ya where ya can stay."  The other hares have while this discussion has been going on, moved the injured into the mountain to go into the infirmary.

Iomega pats his stomach. "Well this 'ere of mine has been in me family for many generations."

Oxeye stubbornly refuses to be lead inside yet. He remains, leaning on his javelin and avoiding Jarril and his orders ;)

"I will need to be tended by a healer as well if allowed." Logain keeps the axe in paw as he follows Jarril to the mountain. His eyes catch hold of Oxeye and he grins broadly. "A badger in a hares fur."

Later....

Salamandaston: Residents' Dormitory
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* Salamandastron *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
A long, narrow, and slightly curving room, the Residents' Dormitory houses
all the various residents of Salamandastron not actually in the Long
Patrol - cooks, guests, and the like.  Making up for the fact that they
share a common room, the Residents' Dormitory affords as much comfort to
each inhabitant as possible.  Each of them gets a small personal alcove,
which contains a bed made up of a large rock shelf with a grass-filled
mattress on top, several shelves, and a few paces of floor space.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
                  Visible Exits:
[Out] to Hallway

Jarril looks about and shows you your beds.  "There ya go.  Ya can stay here.  Meals are served in the dining room five times a day.  Three during the day and two during the night shift."  The hare smiles.  "I leave ya ta get comfortable and all."  Turning to go he smiles and turns his head back.  "Thank ya for the help as well.  Much appreciated."

Nodding his massive head and looking at the bare sheathe on his back, Logain watches Jarril. "Not a problem my friend."

Jarril adds.  "If ya want any medical needs, the infirmary will have all ya need.  See a hare there and they will see ta ya."

Iomega smiles. "I bet the vittles they got 'ere ain't not shabby as the grog an' home made rations I eat."

Jarril smirks.  "Ya can go up ta the third floor and go ta the lower rank bar there if ya want.  Drinks are served there.  Just don't get ta drunk now will ya."  Smirking slightly.

"Your home is quite impressive. My grandfather use to spin stories of it, grand battles and whatnot..' Logain moves to a alcove and removes his pack and the empty sheathe.

Iomega places his rather large woven sack on a bed. "Me father did too. An' members O' the holts I've been in. Boy matey, ye should har stories about ye mountain." He chuckles. "Er. Yeah. You probably did. Since ye've been livin' 'ere all yer life or whatnot."

Jarril smiles a bit and nods.  "It does it's job, that's all.  Offers shelter, protection.  Not much more ta ask really.  But ya find all hares here are friendly but it may take a few a while ta get used ta ya being here though but treat them nicely and they will be friendly back and help if ya need anything."  Looking at the otter he shook his head.  "Not lived here all my life.  My father was a colonel in the patrol seasons back before he retired and moved up north.  I thought I follow in his steps."

Iomega smirks. "Are ye a colonel too?"

Jarril shakes his head with a chuckle.  "Only a major.  Not bad for someone only 10 seasons of age, wot."

"I will be sure to visit the infirmary and have my wounds tended. Thank you once more Jarril." Logain stretches abit. "I speak little normally friend and will be polite. If you speak with the Badger Lord, I will accompany you if you like."

Iomega chuckles. "Aye. Ye'r doin' better than me tharn aye could sailin' th' seas an' fightin' rats." He hmms. "Ditto here."

Jarril looks at Logain.  "I thank ya for ya offer but I think this have ta be on my own, wot."  Listening to the otter, the hare frowns slightly on the word rat but speaks nothing more of it.  "Come I take ya ta the infirmary now."  Moving to head out of the room.

Salamandastron: Infirmary
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* Salamandastron *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
This is the infirmary for the long patrol.  This room is one of the most
well lit rooms in the whole of Salamandastron, with several candles placed
strategically along the shelves and cupboards.  Many wooden beds line the
walls of this room, each outfitted with impeccably clean white linen
sheets.  This unfortunately limits the walking space in this room.  Where
there are not beds there are shelves and cabinets that hold a variety of
different medical equipment, mostly needles and bandages.  A single stone
sink is firmly lodged into one of the counters.  The sink is not fancy, in
fact it is quite awkward. It is a necessity, nonetheless.  An open closet
is in the corner of the room, storing a surplus of compact cots, in the
unusual case of mass injuries. The room usually has several nurse hares in
it, roaming around tending to various injuries.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
                  Visible Exits:
        [Out] to Level Three        [Herb] Room

Following the hare, the badger moves slowly as he looks around taking in the details of the mountain's guts. Logain enters the infirmary.

Jarril pads in and speaks to some hares for a moment and nods to the badger.  "If ya sit on the cot there they will deal with ya wounds."

"Alright." The large beast moves and sits on a cot, and removes his cloak. Logain waits patiently.

The badger lays down as the healers begin to work on his wounds. Logain shortly falls asleep, his wounds finally taking a toll upon the massive warrior.