A wooden wagon rolls along the road, towed by a couple of hefty Rhians: Gunter the Carpenter, and Horus the Night-Watchman. Every once in a while, a glimpse of Farmer Poe – the Korv – can be seen through gaps in the overhanging branches that shadow the road from the gray sky. The tall and silent armored warrior feline, Born-in-Shame, takes point, warily scanning the brush for ambushes by bandits or Gallisian scouts. The foppish fox sulks in the rear, his lute having been wound up with several ropes, cords and scraps of bandage … a pretense invented by Farmer Poe under the excuse that the lute was an ideal dispenser for such necessities as bandages and cord, but really just a ruse to keep the instrument silent for a while, so that stealth can be at least nominally maintained.

The branches of the trees dip and rise in waves that course across the forest, the leaves rustling in testament to the wind that skims the highest boughs but is barely felt down here on the road. The patchy gray sky alternately darkens, then lightens, as heavy clouds roll by, threatening with a distant rumble of thunder. The birds, however, are not the least bit bothered by the temperamental weather, chirping their meandering sing-song with enthusiasm, as if trying to make up for the silence of the bard.

Despite the gloom of the sky and the ruins by the wayside, there's something peaceful and restful about the scene, and the easy going of the road. Although the forest provides many possible hiding places, and the crumbling buildings several more, the trunks are narrow and the underbrush scant enough that one can see for many meters through the wood before the view dissolves into a maze of tangles. The boughs of the trees form gently curving arcs as the branches cross each other from the vantage-point of the road, the gaps between them forming the shapes of Gothic arches, the windows of a church.

This theme is emphasized as a steeple comes into view, and then the faded walls of an old wayside chapel that peek through a tangling net of creeper vines. The double doors have fallen from their hinges, and lie broken on the ground, the wood old and rotten. The stone walls still stand, however, and the peaked wooden roof is mostly intact, save for a few holes and gaps that let in beams and pinpricks of filtered light when the passing clouds leave a gap for the sun to peek through. Four stone benches can be clearly seen from outside, seating perhaps a total of twelve visitors – less than that if any of them are Rhian-sized. The stained glass windows are somehow intact, though too obscured by vines for the images to be clearly seen from the road.

It all seems very peaceful and serene … until the metal blade of Jynx's heirloom dagger, K'uravel, begins to glow faintly, flashes of blue coruscating across its rune-inscribed surface.

The feline doesn't notice this right away, however, as he is scanning the overcast sky for any signs of a deluge. The corner of his eye alerts him, and he quickly takes the weapon in paw. "Wait – everyone halt!"

Horus bumps into Jynx from behind … but the group quickly comes to a halt.

"What is it?" loudly inquires the foppish fox. "Forget something? I feel like I left something too, back where I had a picnic last. Think I could go back for it? Once I remember what it is, that is."

"Oof!" says Jynx, and he gives a quick grimace back at Horus. "Stay where you are," he says to the fox, "I didn't forget anything… " He takes a closer look at the dagger with a frown. "I think there's something in that church that's of the not-so-friendly type."

Horus and Gunter ready their weapons … and the fox struggles to do likewise, once he catches on a second or so later.

The Khatta's tail twitches about in indecision, his eyes locked on the chapel. "Should we investigate, or just give the place some space?" He looks to his companions, glancing at his dagger now and then.

"Zhu are ze leader," quietly whinnies Gunter.

Jynx frowns. "Oh yeah, forgot about that." He looks back to the church, and sighs. "I guess we had better give it a look. If it's an enemy and we don't take care of it, it might come back to haunt us later." He starts off towards the old building, dagger raised. "We have to be quick about it though; we still need to reach those Dagh-cursed yappers."

The cart is left behind for now (since it's hard to stealthily roll a wagon), as a couple of horses and a garishly-dressed foppish fox try to sneak along behind the black cat.

As Jynx nears the chapel, he gets to a better position to see around it – and inside it. Inside, he gets a good look at the hind end of a dappled white Drokar in fancy barding. Beyond it, inside the vine-invaded chapel, an armored poodle is answering the call of nature on the pulpit.

Just on the other side of the chapel – outside – there's a second Drokar … and no sign of its rider.

The cat falls silent, and sneaks up to the ruins at an angle, trying to keep out of any lines of sight. As he sees the Drokars and the rider, his tail begins to twitch, though. Looking back to Horus and Gunter, he whispers as quietly as he can, signing simultaneously, "Gunter, Horus, you two go and try to capture those Drokars, and lead them away from the church. Born-In-Shame and I will go after the rider." He looks to the fox. "You, uh… stay here and… provide moral support or something – quiet support!"

Born-in-Shame, seems to have other ideas. He has drawn his sword, and it looks like he's just marching right up to the front of the church. If that poodle turns, the armored cheetah is going to be as easy to see as anything.

The fox, however, is much more agreeable, as he struggles to draw his sword. The scabbard is winning. "I'll just hide … er … guard this bush here." He dives into the underbrush, his tail poking out one end.

"Born-In-Shame!!" Jynx signs wildly, hoping the cheetah will see him. Gritting his teeth, the cat bolts after the silent-one, motioning for the Rhians to follow.

The horses jog after Jynx … and just then, a canine voice barks out … something in Gallisian?

It's off to the cat's left – which would be further down the road, and on the same side of the chapel that the other Drokar was on. Must be the owner of that Drokar.

Just then, the poodle in the chapel stops in mid-whatever-he's-doing, and lets out a yelp of alarm, struggling to adjust his armor.

Dagh! The black Khatta charges the warrior in the chapel, hoping to get at him before his companion can join up. "Horus! Gunter! Get the Drokars! Don't let them get back to them!" Dagger pulled, he charges the yelping Gallee.

There's a startled cry … as Jynx runs past two Drokars parked inside the chapel. The Gallee is still struggling with his armor when Jynx reaches him – outpacing the armored cheetah. Outside, the sounds of a fray beginning can be heard. One of the Rhians punches a Drokar. It falls over.

Jynx leaps at the armored poodle, trying to knock him over, and slashes at him at the same time. Hopefully, the poodle is still enough off guard to be unready.

Jynx's dagger-swipes scrape across fancy armor … but he catches the poodle sufficiently off-balance to knock the dog backward, prompting another yelp.

Outside, there's another yipe that sounds vulpine, and a discordant SPRANG, followed by more sounds of scuffling. The Drokars rear up, braying in panic.

The Khatta attempts to pin the canine to the ground, but not before signing to Born-In-Shame, "Go after the other dog; he may be attacking our fox!" He turns back to the poodle and puts all his weight on him, hitting at whatever weapons he may have.

The poodle, it seems, set his sword aside while he tended to other business. Plus, having his helmet removed and certain other pieces of armor leaves him quite vulnerable while he's pinned down. The poodle struggles about, but he's not getting anywhere right now.

*SOCK* Another Drokar goes down.

Born-in-Shame rushes outside. More whacking and pounding follows.

Jynx grabs presses his dagger to the back of the poodle's neck. "If I were you, I wouldn't move." He calls back outside, "Gunter, come here and help me!"

The poodle's ears flatten back and his eyes go wide in fear. He shakily holds his empty hands out in the open…

Some moments later, and a little more pounding, the opposition is dealt with – three poodles on Drokars, that were heading down this road. Alas, nobody in the party admits to knowing Gallisian, and the poodles don't seem to know Sylvanian or Rephidim Standard, so it's hard to learn anything beyond what can be pantomimed … and considering that the three poodles are all trussed up like yiffles, they aren't doing much of that.

The foppish fox looks a bit like a poodle himself, really, what with all the powder that has gotten on his fur as a result of his scuffle with his attacker. "Dreadful dressers," he comments about the foppish warriors.

Born-in-Shame is busy doing some cleaning in the chapel. He seems to be rather worked up about the whole thing, really. He keeps making the sign of the Star all the time.

"Vell," asks Gunter, "vat do ve do wit tem?"

Jynx looks over the Drokars and frowns. "Dugh, I just wanted you guys to get a hold of the Drokars, not beat the stuffing out of them!" He shrugs. "Oh well, I guess it worked." He looks back to the poodles, and scowls. "I guess we got our first prisoners. Now we have to think of what to do with them."

Gunter just shrugs.

Just then, a shadow passes overhead. "Caw!" It's Farmer Poe. He lands. "Ah! I missed some, it seems. Sorry. Seems you handled them well enough, though."

"We can't just leave them here, and we don't have any time to take them back to the castle, so I guess we have to take them with us." The Khatta looks to the farmer as he lands. "Yeah, we got em, but I'm starting to think it would have been better to pass them by. What's that cheetah doing?" He peers into the castle.

"What cheetah?" replies the crow. "In any case, we haven't much further to go. We're almost at the border with Tempest County … and the Gallisians are already at the gates of the town."

Jynx nods. "When we get to Tempest county, we can turn the prisoners over to the Count's forces. Maybe he'll have somewhere to hold them. But you're right, we'd better keep moving." Jynx turns to the church. "Born-In-Shame!" he yells out loud to get the warrior's attention, then signs, "We're moving out again; finish what you're doing and come on with us."

Born-in-Shame seems to be doing nearly a ritual over the pulpit, sprinkling some oil on it.

The Khatta goes up to the entrance of the chapel. "Come on, spotty. We have to be moving out. I'm sure the Star is pleased enough with what you've done."

Born-in-Shame finishes up, makes the sign of the Star again, then strides out. He signs, "It is a disgrace what these people have done. They must not be allowed to conquer this land. If my people had witnessed what I have seen, they would wipe out these infidels to the last soldier."

Farmer Poe jumps in. "Ah … as for turning over these prisoners … first we'll have to get through the enemy ranks. And then the Count might still have his hands full. Personally, I'd recommend just stripping 'em and tying 'em to a tree. Okay, high up, so the beasties can't reach them, maybe."

Jynx frowns. "Well, we're not going to go that far, but we are going to do something about it. Let's go." He walks over to the Rhians and the fox. "Good point, but if they get loose, won't they give away our position?" He frowns. "That's probably the best idea though." He turns to the fox. "Give me some of the wrappings from your lute, and let's put these smelly mutts up where they'll be useless."

"Aye, aye, kapitan!" says the fox, making a sloppy salute. Then, he cackles as he heads over to the poodles… They look worried at the sight of a happy fox.

Gunter whinnies, "Vat if zu put on ze armor of ze primpy poodles? Zu coult pass vor Gallee."

Farmer Poe looks dubious. "You sure he could move around in that? And isn't he a little short?"

Gunter says, "Gallees are short unter ter armor. Tey vear tall boots."

"Horus, help him raise the yappers up a bit off the ground, that way they have a ways to fall if they get free," purrs the feline. "While they're doing that, let's put our stuff on the Drokars; it'll be easier to – huh?" He stops mid-sentence at the Rhian's suggestion, and strokes his chin. "Not a bad idea… but there's three suits, and five of us."

Gunter ponders this. "Mebbe ve coult be prisoners?"

Horus, meanwhile, throws a rope over a low-hanging branch, preparing to haul the poodles up into the tree, while the foppish fox relieves the poodles of anything that looks the least bit valuable, stuffing his pockets.

Jynx grins. "That could work." He goes over to the suits, and looks for one that might fit. "I'm not used to walking around in a tin can like this. You guys'll have to help me put it on. And we'd better hope they don't ask any questions." He looks to Born-In-Shame, "Perhaps you should put one of these on too."

The Khatta chooses a suit that seems closest to his size, and starts to clumsily put it on. "Oof, how do they live in these things?"

Some time later, Jynx and his companions make their way toward the Gallisian siege of Tempest Keep. The forest gives way to farmlands and rolling hills. The relatively flat ground makes the rocky spire in the heart of it all to be that more impressive. Who knows what freak of nature might have produced this odd rocky precipice in the middle of mostly flat ground? Perhaps it is the core of a long extinct volcano, the rest of the mound having long ago eroded away. But whatever the cause, it is the site of Tempest Keep … and its elevation and remoteness does much to make inaccessible to its enemies. Nonetheless, that does not mean that the Count's supplies will last forever, as a Gallisian expeditionary army has the small mountain and the fortifications atop it completely surrounded.

Jynx is armored up as best as can be done, in Gallisian finery, mounted astride an unfamiliar and often uncooperative mount. It knows, after all, that Jynx is not its master – and not even a Gallee.

The two Rhians make even more unlikely soldiers. A bit of abuse was necessary to get the armor to so much as fit on them, and it is a disguise that will most likely only work from a distance. Thank goodness for oversized shoulder pads and capes.

The foppish fox, really, looks the closest to a poodle of the bunch … though trying to fit him into the armor would have been a joke. And Born-in-Shame … well … he can be quite stubborn. And Poe is a bird. Okay, so this wasn't the most ideal of situations.

Gunter's voice is hollow inside his battered helmet, which is crested with a garish-looking rendition of a Kujaku, complete with feathers. "I can't move."

Jynx's helmet, ironically, is fashioned in a way that resembles a wildcat holding a crown and a sword. Horus' helmet has a crest that looks somewhat like a jester's cap.

Jynx, not much of a rider anyways, tries to halt his mount. "I don't know if this is gonna work; can you guys move at all?" He looks back to his poor tail, cramped and squished inside the tail casing, which was made for a smaller poodle tail.

Horus whinnies, "Can't fight in this."

The foppish fox sighs loudly. "Oh, bother! Personally, I say we go with my plan, and have me play my music so I can win their hearts over through song."

The black Khatta lifts his visor, and looks back to the equines. "Hopefully, we won't have to fight, and I'm impressed that you managed to squeeze into those anyways." He scratches his nose through the helmet opening, "Do you guys think you can go on, or do you want to try the prisoner idea? It might be more comfortable for you."

There's a trumpet call, and it looks like a few Drokars have turned toward this direction.

The foppish fox says, "Oh! It looks like they're coming to see us. I'll get ready to play."

Gunter whinnies nervously. "I don't like tis."

Horus struggles with a spy-scope he found in his Drokar's saddlebag. It's a bit too delicate for his big meaty hands, though – especially with the bits of armor roughly twisted to try to fit around his fingers.

"Dagh! Looks like we have no choice," hisses Jynx. "You guys keep quiet and act cool, and maybe they won't suspect us." To the fox, he adds, "And you keep your lute silent!" and then lowers his visor.

The spy-scope falls out of Horus' hands, landing on the ground.

The foppish fox, ever the scavenger, quickly scoops the scope up. "Oh!" He peers through the wrong end. "Makes things look smaller!"

Jynx hisses at the fox, "Turn it around, idiot, and give it back to Horus! You have to act like you've been captured!"

"Oh!" The foppish fox hurriedly hands the spyscope to Horus … but the horse drops it again. He tries again. The spyscope is again dropped. The Drokars are getting closer.

The fox asks, "How about if I tie it to your hand, Horus?"

"Just put it back on his belt!" replies Jynx.

The fox gives this a few tries … but it doesn't seem to stick there. "Uhm … " The fox looks about, then hands the spy-scope to Jynx. "There you go, Sir Knight Sir! Ah … what should I call you, by the by?"

Jynx fumbles with the spyglass, but manages to get a hold of it, albeit in surprise. "Uhh… umm… call me… Dagh… what's a Gallisian type name?!"

The fox mumbles something about "Dagh" not sounding very Gallisian…

The Khatta shakes his head, "Don't call me anything! I'm supposed to be speaking Gallisian anyways, remember? Just stay quiet!" The feline comes to attention, and awaits the poodles, trying to keep his tail from thrashing and giving away his feline self.

The Drokars approach. One splits off, and two riders approach, decked out in overly ornate armor, with large plumes trailing from their helmets, and their Drokars in even fancier barding than that on the three Drokars that Jynx and his friends captured.

Jynx tries his best attempt at a military greeting, raising his palm to the approaching forces. He shifts his position inside the hot armor, and unfortunately, Khattas can't sweat.

"No, no, not like that," corrects the fop-fox. He climbs up onto Jynx's Drokar, and adjusts his arm. "Like this! You've got it all wrong! Don't hold your wrist rigid like that. Just a little loose. Casual. But not too casual. You're a knight, see?" The fop-fox then rattles on a series of lessons in how to act like a poodle.

The fop-fox then says, "And I'll call you … ah … Sir Giraud! Rhymes with Reynard. Almost. Well, not really."

Inside his helmet, Jynx grits his teeth. "Okay fine! Get down, you moron – here they come!" He shoves at the fox, and turns back to the knights.

With a yelp, the fox falls to the ground. The two poodle knights ride up. They salute.

The fop-fox salutes back.

Jynx attempts to return the salute, nodding at the two knights and attempting a bow, since they are obviously higher rank.

The knights yap something back, then make some hand motions … and start riding back the way they came.

Farmer Poe caws, "Is this good or bad?"

Jynx looks to his companions, and shrugs. "Beats me. We'd better go along with them." Spurring his Drokar, he follows after the two poodles, motioning for the others to do likewise.