(Don't mind the length too much. Just had a lot that I had to get in.)
Tock awoke to find himself within a large wagon with wide wooden boards blocking his view out of it. It probably wasn't daytime as there was no sunlight seeping through the boards, though aside form that Tock had no clue at what time it was. Tocks hands and feet were tied up with rope. Tock tried to think of how he had gotten in such a situation and after thinking on it for a while vaguely recalled the incident that had preceded his capture.
Tock had been walking through Norwood Forest, he was sure of that much, though he couldn't quite recall what time of day it had been. He had spotted a strange caravan in the distance off the road and had been foolish enough to try and find out who it belonged too. Not too long after approaching he remembered being picked up off of his feet, and after that things were a bit fuzzy. He remembered hearing some talking, but couldn't remember anything that was said or faces for that matter.
Tock turned his mind back to the present and looked around him. There was a wooden table with chairs about it and on the other side of the table was a covered cage whose bars seemed to give of a dim light trough the dark cover. That was in fact the only light tock had in the oppressive darkness. By the cage there was a large chest, probably where his weapon had been taken. There seemed to be no one else in the small space. Tock heard voices, but they didn't seem too close to the caravan, though there was still probably someone keeping watch. Tock was too afraid to bring more light into the room, and attract the attention of whatever guard or guards were posted near the caravan.
Tock tested his wings and found that they weren’t bound. Hopefully this meant that he could fly up and find something useful on the table or find something sharp in the chest if it wasn’t locked. Tock gathered his courage and flew upwards, but before he could get very far he found that he was the rope that tied his legs bound him to the ground. Now short of ideas Tock landed back down. He was about to give up, until he heard a strange rumbling from on top of the table. He couldn’t fly high enough to see what exactly it was. All at once the noise stopped and Tock saw a faint light come from the table and make its way into his hands. Tock hear a strange voice, but could find no speaker and guessed the light must be the source.
“In times of need I am your friend,
In times of times of woe I bring its end,
So long as Justice stays your hand.”
As the voice spoke the light expanded and dulled into an elegant blade. Tock wondered if the source of the voice was still in the room. “Hello, is anybody there?” Tock asked softly yet there was no reply. Tock shrugged and turned his attention back to his escape. Using the blade, Tock cut himself free of the rope. After accomplishing that task, Tock heard the voice again.
“When the battle has been won,
I can not linger on,
Yet, if your need is good and true,
I shall return to you.”
This time the blade turned into a card with a large sword emblem on it. Tock held onto the card, intent on putting it in a safe place once he found his own equipment. While the chest was obviously the best place to look for his personal effects, Tock was drawn to the mysterious covered cage. Tock walked slowly towards the cage and pulled back the cloth covering it. It a winged dog, a rather miserable looking winged dog. Of course if Tock were locked in a cage like the dog he was sure he’d be pretty miserable too. The poor dog whined softy and pleaded for Tock’s aid with his eyes. Tock had to help the creature, but to do that he would need a key. Hopefully it was nearby, he doubted he could sneak a key off of any of the bandits.
Outside of the caravan a sleepy bandit took watch as he leaned against the only door into the caravan. A further away, a groupd of bandits exchanged tales over an open flame near the horses that had been un hooked from the caravan.
Nightfall began to creep across the woodlands, engulfing all that would be caught within it into darkness. Not a single creature seemed to stir throughout the silence of the night, which made the night almost perfect to enjoy, but something seemed amiss. Unable to place a finger on it, he would shrug the feeling from his mind and continue on throughout the darkness that had settled upon the woodlands. It was only after a few minutes of traveling that something had caught his eye; it would seem someone had set camp not too far out from where he currently was. Using the small camp fire as his guide, he would carefully approach, keeping sure to remain within the shadows and behind what trees there were nearby him.
Upon nearing the encampment, his emerald eyes would flicker across the figures standing before the orange glow of the fire. At first glance, they appeared to be bandits, but what were they up to. Adverting his gaze from the ones gathered around the campfire, it would soon befall upon a lone bandit and a caravan. The first thought that came to mind was they had ensued some sort of ambush and that there was something that bandit was trying to keep in there. There was one problem though, how would he figure out what was in there…? Sure, he had a few guesses as to what it could possibly be, but whether or not they were right was something he wasn’t willing to risk his life for. But he couldn’t just walk away either...He needed a plan, something that would provide very little ruckus and easy escape.
Calculating a few thoughts through his head, he would arise with a plan, hopefully one that would keep him out of confrontations with the other bandits, but it needed to be executed perfectly and without one single error. Taking in a deep breath, he would place a hand upon the symbol that resided on the Shape shifters mail he had wore. The second his flesh would make contact, a faint light would illuminate forth from the armor and within a blink of the eye he was the size of a small squirrel. Scampering off from tree to tree, he would continue to keep an eye on the bandits around the fire, making sure that none had even taken notice to his change or even to his movements quite yet. Once he had rounded his way to the backside of the wagon in which the single bandit had been posted, he would scamper out across the grass and towards one of the wheels. Though, it wasn’t all so easy to accomplish, as he soon tripped up over his own feet and tumbled forward in a semi roll and onto his back. Laying there for a moment, he stared up into the sky, cursing himself inwardly. Perhaps four legs weren’t quite the same as two…But it wouldn’t matter since he would not retain the form too long. Rolling back to his feet, he would continue on till he arrived at the wagon, remarkably unnoticed. Maybe the fates would be on his side this night.
Ominously the wagon wheel loomed high above him, which made him wonder if this was such a wise idea. Sure, any normal squirrel would be able to scale it without hindrance or issue, but he was by far no normal squirrel. In fact, he wasn’t even sure where to begin…Picking a spot, he would make his attempt, only to fall upon the ground shortly after. Rolling back to his feet, he would make another attempt, this time able to make it up to the center of the wheel, before scaling higher and finally to the top of the wheel where he would rest a moment. The next move was something he wasn’t so sure upon, which made him wonder why he didn’t think on this a little further than he did. With an unwavering gaze, his eyes would run across the side of the structure, looking for any sort of irregularity in the wood, any crack, and any hole he could possibly use. That’s when he had noticed a small hole not too far up from his current spot, but it would mean a leap of faith, which was something he wasn’t all too thrilled about, but there would be no other option. Taking in a deep breath, his legs would bend and poise themselves in preparation to jump on cue. Without wasting any more time, he would launch himself forth from the top of the wheel and towards the hole, hoping to catch it with anything he could. A sense of success rose within him as one of his paws snagged the inner part of the hole, but his grip would quickly begin to slip with the weight of his body swinging back and forth from the action. In a state of panic, his other arm would quickly snake into the hole and grip the other side of the inner edge of the hole to only strengthen his grip by two times. Now things were finally going his way, but when he made a move to enter the hole, his head could only enter it and not by all that much, since his progress ceased just at the base of his neck. Though, it would be enough to see what was inside, but it would appear to be quite cryptic in nature due to the darkness that enveloped the interior. But that’s when he noticed a shadow move, something that didn’t appear all that big and something that appeared to be a cage. Unable to make it out for certain, it would be all he needed to put the next part of his plan into action.
Sucking in one final breath, he would relinquish his grip and allow himself to free fall towards the ground bellow, but at the last second twisted his body so as to land upon all fours unharmed. From there, he would make his way beneath the wagon in order to put the next step of his plan in action…
Kalarn ran, remembering he was actually running from something, but he did not care anymore. He was now hunting. Hunting for bandit hides. He saw a small group of them, next to a caravan, and ran a little closer before jumping high, his wings spreading out like a demon. He drew back his fist, and brought it down onto the face of a bandit as he turned. The fist nearly bashed his face in, breaking the nose instantly. Kalarn jumped off, blood on his fist.
His momentum wasn't gone yet. he flipped out his sword, and brought it back, and flung it horizontally at the bandit. As much as he tried, the sword began to spin, like a top, and sank into a tree, nearly hitting a man. He whistled loudly, and waved his hands. Although some people did nothing else, some people crouched down and covered their ears.
Ishrantu was hunting, he hated bandits as much as his master, and with Tapfer on his back, he leapt from tree to tree, and finally leaping on one of the people who had covered their ears. Tapfer leapt off of Ishrantu, and walked around, finally seeing a squirrel. He jumped up, and made a shambling run after it. The scream of the man grew louder, and then, all was silent. Ishrantu had made a large gaping hole in the man's chest, and although the others where in plain view, they were silent.
Several trees where at an angle, with large gashes in the trunks. It seems whatever was there, was gone. For now, at least. Kalarn ripped the sword out of the tree, nearly cutting into his back. He smartly back-stepped, and saw the caravan. He punched a large hole in the wood, letting out a small gasp of pain. He ripped out the board from inside, and jumped in, seeing a little white bear with a furry ball on his head, and draconic wings.
Kalarn saw the dog with wings, and immediately set to work with the lock. He looked around, and saw a long, thin dagger. A stilleto. He jammed the stiletto inside, and undid the lock. He wiped his head, suddenly noticing how long it took. He swung the door open, and turned to the bear. "So, any reason you're in this caravan? Taken hostage?" He said.