With Keys to the Cage and the Devil to Pay...

[Captain Ciera Ancora]

"Run!" Ciera hissed.

With their assorted injuries, the group was capable of a sort of fast-ish trot, but that was about it. Ciera took the rear, cutlass at the ready, watching for any further signs of the rogue Badger Lord. There were no immediate signs of pursuit, and the crashing sounds seemed to fade away into the distance. Still, Ciera refused to lower the blade until a good hour after the last sign of him.

Once the immediate threat had passed, Ciera allowed herself to take notice of their surroundings. As they progressed, she spotted subtle changes in the scenery. At first the differences were unremarkable, slight notches on trees, or rocks in slightly unusual positions. Little things just slightly out of place, but subtle indicators that living beasts had passed through the area. But the signs grew more numerous, and more obvious: patches of the jungle floor worn by frequent footpaws, lonely stumps where fallen trees had been hauled away for lumber. Scully, the most keen-eyed of the group, also began noticing more signs of traps. There was no doubt about it, they were approaching the fringes of sort of civilization.

Ciera called a halt, so that the tattered group could discuss what for lack of a better term comprised their plan.

?As I see it, our best option is to just simply walk in there and ask them to hear us out. We explain that we?re envoys from the serpent tribe, here to broker some kind of peace agreement with the worshippers of the fire god, and ask if they?d be willing to consider meeting with the serpents to discuss the details.?

?And then what??

Ciera looked around for any sign of serpents, and lowered her voice to a whisper. ?Then we leg it into the jungle before something goes wrong.?

Scully grimaced. ?Such as??

?We?re addressing a tribe of violent lunatic mongeese on behalf of a tribe of deluded lunatic serpents, pretending to be the divinely-appointed messenger of a god who is, in point of fact, a mountain. There?s a marauding badger out there who could burst in at any moment and slaughter us all, and the snakes think we?re on the same side as him. We don?t know why the tribes are warring, we don?t know whether they can effectively communicate with us, we don?t know if a random rock will fall off the mountain and they?ll treat it as a sign that we need to be burnt alive? frankly, it?ll be shocking if anything doesn?t go wrong.?

?That doesn?t sound like a very good plan.?

?It isn?t a very good plan.?

?Then why are we doing this??

?Well, that?s very simple. The deluded lunatics will definitely kill us if we don?t, whereas the violent lunatics will only probably kill us if we do.?

There was silence as the group pondered their rather precarious situation. Well, most of them.

?I thought they?re called mongooses,? put in Scully.

Ciera glared. ?If you have one goose and you get another goose, you have two geese. If you have one mongoose and you get another mongoose, you have mongeese. It?s the same thing.?

?But if I have one noose and I get another noose, I have two nooses.?

?Scully, I just? I don?t care.?

Ciera tried to recall what she?d been about to explain, but the nomenclature issue had snarled the fine thread of her thoughts. She was still seeking a follow-up when a stray sound caught her ear. Somewhere nearby, fronds were being brushed aside, much more brusquely than they would have been by wind. The sound inexplicably reminded her of the way in which a few skittering pebbles herald an avalanche.

?What is that? Another snake?? There was a slight tremor to Vera?s voice.

Ciera grimaced wryly. ?Oh, I doubt we?re that lucky.?

A ragged bellow tore through the jungle, close enough to raise the hairs on her neck.

Scully?s eyes darted towards the jungle. ?Should we run for it??

?We should. But we,? Ciera gestured vaguely at the injured members of the crew, ?are probably not capable of outrunning him. Vera, Plink, if you don?t intend to fight I suggest you start running for the village.?

Plink's nose wrinkled. ?I thought you said we couldn?t outrun Atlas??

?We can?t. But you three can.?

?You?re going to fight?? Scully?s eyes were wide and bright. ?I can help!?

?No. Go with them. As the messenger you might be able to talk the mongeese into being lenient. At the very least, it?ll keep you three out of reach of the angry snakes.?

In a perfect world, somebeast would have asked, ?But why will the snakes be angry?? at which point Ciera?s eyes would?ve narrowed dangerously as she responded, ?Because I?m about to kill their champion.?

This world wasn?t perfect, and the other three scuttled off without clarification. Ciera didn?t bother watching them go, but instead tore a few large fronds from the surrounding foliage and spread them into an untidy heap over a shady rut in the ground. Then she waited.

Twigs crackled somewhere in the greenery. She stared into the jungle, trying to spot her quarry. Though it couldn?t have been much later than afternoon, the entire area was a kaleidoscope of green foliage and black shadows. The slightest breeze upset the whole mess, causing the shapes to contort and fracture.

But there, less than a stone?s throw away, a tangled mess of vines cast a deep pit of shadow. Deep enough to conceal a very large beast. She pointed her cutlass at the blackness, and steeled herself.

Time to die.

A small nub, black on black, emerged. It looked as though somebeast had pinched off a section of the darkness and was drawing a living shadow out into the light. The nub elongated, becoming a nose, a snout. One eye flared, gleaming brilliantly.

?Hello, Atlas.?

The badger emerged fully into the sunlight, a nightmare made flesh. The dappled sunlight revealed a monstrosity in black and white ? and quite a lot of red. The temperature and humidity of the island had not been kind to Atlas. Heat radiated off of the badger?s hoary shoulders, and his fur bore a damp, sickly sheen. His armor was gone, and what little clothing remained was not so much worn but rather plastered to him with sweat and blood. The single bloodshot eye rolled and locked directly onto Ciera, and the badger?s maw split into a jagged grin.

?Captain Ancora.?

The badger took a few steps forward, bringing him closer to the fronds she?d spread. He was favoring his left leg, and it wasn?t hard to see why. Atlas had encountered one of the mongeese?s traps, one involving quite a few pointed stakes by the look of it.

?Easy, Stormstripe. I don?t want to fight you.?

The grin widened, exposing a few cracked molars. ?Of course you don?t. Typical pirate cowardice.?

Ciera refused to allow herself to be rattled. She shot a quick glance into the foliage. The serpents needed to hear this part. If she ran from ? or by some miracle, killed ? Atlas, she didn?t want to risk retribution. ?I rather think we?re on the same side, here, Atlas.?

?Never.?

Ciera stuck the cutlass point-first into the jungle carpet. ?We want the same thing. Peace.?

?There will be peace when you are dead.?

Atlas tensed, ready to spring forward and tear her to pieces. She could see the madness churning in the badger?s one good eye. Blood was diffusing into the pupil, staining it bright red. Any second now there would be no white left.

She?d heard legends about the Bloodwrath. There was no chance of reasoning her way out of this. Once the rage fully set in, there?d be nothing but the red mists, urging him to kill and kill and kill. Any second now.

He?d be impossibly fast, and nearly impervious to pain. No amount of tail-pulling or cheap shots to the voonerables would stop him. Any second now.

Any second.

Now.

It took half a second to flick her gaze from the bloodshot eye to the conspicuous layer of fronds at Atlas? feet, then back up again. Another half second to tighten her facial features just so, contriving to pretend that the little furtive glance had never happened.

Atlas? heightened senses were stretched taut, ready for him to burst forth and unleash. He couldn?t have missed her glance even if he wanted to. The eye snapped downwards, recognized the signs of an obvious pit trap. Instinctively, he leapt to the side, intent on avoiding it.

By that point Ciera had already snatched the cutlass, turned, and begun to flee.

The gamble wouldn?t slow him down much, but it?d confuse him, throw him off stride. It?d buy her a second or two, perhaps that would be enough.

Something bulled into her. Perhaps not. The blow knocked her sideways, sending her scudding across the ground. Roots and plant spines raked her flank. Something hard sent a trill of pain through her ribcage.

She gasped, winded. Atlas loomed, sideways in her spotty vision. Her spirit burned at the sight of him. It was his fault Blade was dead. It was his fault she?d lost the Maiden. It was his fault that she was on this Fates-forsaken island. Him and his bloody war on bloody piracy had cost her everything.

A bowstring creaked.

The badger dodged, impossibly fast. One instant he was in the arrow?s path, the next he wasn?t. It speared harmlessly into the dirt. Atlas roared and charged after the shooter.

Ciera forced herself upright, staggering slightly. A flash of brown dodged through the trees. 

Scully.

The idiot must have decided to come back and help her. Ciera made a mental note to severely tan his hide for insubordination if they both survived this.

The leveret dodged a swipe from the enraged badger, and headed back in Ciera?s direction, no doubt assuming that a two-on-one advantage might win the day. It was a nice thought, but lack of breath tended to put a considerable damper on one?s swordfighting skills. Ciera stooped and tried sucking in a few ragged lungfuls on the off chance that it'd ease the throbbing in her chest. No such luck.

Scully blitzed past her. Atlas left off chasing the faster prey and sighted his original quarry. He turned to face Ciera head on. Perhaps this was how the Maiden had seen the oncoming Zephyr; a looming threat, impossible to divert, impossible to dodge, impossible to outrun.

What else was there to do?

Ram the bastard right back.

She cast the cutlass aside, and in the same motion swept a paw downwards, snatching up something from the ground. She stood erect, facing down the badger. Atlas came at her like the prow of a speeding galleon.

She broke into a lurching run. Her air-starved lungs screamed in protest. The gap between them shrank away like water in the desert. At the last possible second, she leapt upwards and flung the pawful of dirt. The clump stayed intact for only half a second, but just long enough to erupt into a gritty brown bloom on the badger's muzzle. Dust and dirt hailed into Atlas' wide-open eyeball.

An arm like a tree trunk slammed into her. The world blurred, and her chin slammed into the ground. The sharp tang of blood filled her nostrils.

Atlas roared again, lashing out indiscriminately. Something massive whistled past Ciera's head. The ferret dragged herself out of range. Everything on her left side felt numb, her arm and leg might as well have been made of wood. Something felt very wrong.

Scully ran past again, setting bushes aquiver. What in blazes was that idiot doing? She hauled herself upright, her breathing labored. There was another brown flash in her peripheral vision.

Atlas clawed at his eye, blinking away the irritant. He turned towards Ciera. She couldn't get away. Couldn't even stand up.

Time to die. Any second now...

...But then, a rope whipped out of the foliage and coiled around Atlas' trunklike arm. He snarled, and tore it free with his other arm. A thin brown beast, still holding the rope, was dragged forward. Atlas' fist came down like a divine hammer, crushing the savage's skull. He flung the corpse from him - which meant he was completely unprepared when the next rope snapped taut round his neck. Before he could react, more sinewy tendrils of rope lashed around his torso, his arms, his legs.

And then the woodlands exploded with chittering savages, hauling on the makeshift hawsers. The Badger Lord roared like the breath of Hellgates, straining against the bonds. For a second, Ciera feared they might snap, but the sinews held. Atlas, the Badger Lord of Salamandastron, slaughterer of pirates, was brought to his knees.

She might've cheered then, if the mongeese hadn't looked over at her, and smiled. From a little ways off, she could hear Scully blustering ineffectually in the grasp of one of their tribemates.

It was hard to surrender without full use of her paws, but somehow she managed it.

The mongeese had managed to capture Vera and Plink without much fuss, and after a rather awkward reunion the four of them were unceremoniously marched off. Atlas was dragged along behind them, his bulk being towed like a wounded vessel by at least a score of the jabbering savages.

Feeling eventually returned to Ciera's limbs, and raised merry hell over what'd been done to the place while it was away. She was annoyed to discover that the pain she'd missed out on in the initial shock hadn't gone away, it'd strategically withdrawn to increase its forces. She grimaced with each painful step, and found herself gaining a newfound respect for Vera. The vixen had borne similar injuries with little complaint - perhaps she was more resilient than Ciera had given her credit for. Plink, on the other hand, kept shooting irritated glances at Ciera, doubtlessly blaming her for their circumstances. She resisted the urge to give the little ratmaid a thick ear. Scully, on the other paw, was fuming at their captors. Evidently his divine messenger status wasn't earning him any favors just yet.

A painfully eternal brief while later, they came to the center of... something. It was technically a village, in much the same way that frog droppings are technically insects; all of the ingredients were theoretically in there somewhere, but with enough deficiencies and deformities that it'd take some careful prodding to identify anything familiar.

Another mongoose appeared. This one was older than the warriors who'd captured Atlas, with a distinct hunch and a narrowness to his eyes and facial features which evoked the image of a furry hatchet. His sinuous posture lent itself to a gait that was more glide than walk. A necklace of snake teeth jangled slightly with the motion. The entire effect of authority was capped off by the staff he carried, which was topped with a serpent's skull.

"Ayah Pries!" piped one of the savages. "Ve ketch der stripe demon. He keel tree an ten our atilak but ve ketched heem goott an tight."

"Ayah!" responded the priest. He oiled over to inspect the captive Atlas, who was panting heavily. "Fiyah Gott be much please vitt tis!"

Atlas snapped his jaws at the mongoose, who effortlessly stepped back and rapped the badger's nose with his staff. "Be plenny kerful," advised one of the warriors. "Dis demon, heem keel lotta monkooses."

Ciera refused to look in Scully's direction.

"Chakah! Brink plenny more rope. Gotta holt dis one tight. Fiyah Gott be mos displease if he gerraway."

Once a few stout warriors had been dispatched to find more ropes for the prisoner, the priest deigned to notice Ciera's crew for the first time. "Who dese?"

"Dey-"

"We have a message for you," Scully interrupted.

Ciera groaned. It was unfathomably unlikely that the mongee- the mongoo- that the priest mongoose and all of his minions were likely to accept the peace treaty - after all, Atlas had been the serpent tribe's biggest bargaining chip. With him captured, the serpents really didn't have much of a leg to stand on. Scully, however, didn't think politically, and was still proceeding with the original plan.

"'Messij?'" The priest seemed to have no clue what the word meant.

Scully was somewhat thrown by this, and tried to dice the idea into smaller words. "They, they want- y'see, they want to make peace with you."

"Pease?" snarled the priest. Evidently this was not a popular concept among his kind. "Who? Who vant pease vit us?"

Ciera stepped in. "The snakes."

"'Snakes?'"

"Snakes," Ciera repeated, making a sort of slithering motion with her paw. "Sssss. Snakes."

As one, the mongeese grinned. Ciera looked at the bared teeth, sensing a joke here that she wasn't privy to.

The priest pointed. "You mean dose snakes?"

Ciera turned. Her heart sank.

"Sssss," hissed the priest. Several mongeese laughed. It was a high-pitched, mocking sound.