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The sky was a deep orange, barely visible through the slit of trees cut by the road. The road got a little bit rougher, jagged, broad ruts dug into the hard surface from many a cart having traveled through. It'd been some time since any one from the Ministry of Transportation had been by to maintain this stretch. He decided to do them a favor. He was ahead of schedule anyway. "Engineers!" he called out, promptly being met by the four men he'd brought with him. "We can push through for now, but let's get this smoothed out for the return trip. If it rains, I don't want to be stuck in a pit of lumpy muck with a couple tons of cargo." They saluted him promptly, their orange uniforms flopping about as they dug their tools out from the cart (normally they carried them on harnesses, but since they shared duties in moving the big rolling contraption, who could cargue against them putting their clumsy shovels and tools there?)

Their destination turned out to be little more than a pair of houses by the side of the road, hardly even a village by any real standards. There was no question that the crew would be staying outside this night. Well, so long as one of these places has drinks for the boys...

He set the task of overseeing the camp set-up to his especially competent lieutenant--a Lieutenant Lophleir, it turned out, and he fairly reminded him to get the boys the drinks as he'd been (apparently) commanded to do earlier--and made sure everything went smoothly. Yes, it might've been micromanaging a little, but he wanted to see the little man in action, so to speak. The inn would still be there, after all. The ferret was quite sharp, deciding on avoiding being too close to the main road lest they interfere with travelers' business and urged the men to a clearing on the other side of the creek behind the inn. The cart stayed tucked behind the main building while they began setting up tents and building fires before it got too dark to gather materials. At first, he wasn't too keen on the fires going up, then realized that at a distance the smoke wouldn't look out of place given the inn's humble chimney. Besides, it's not like they never cooked outside from time to time, he reasoned. He'd been to a few inns that built firepits outside for big meals and wondered how many times this lieutenant had gotten an opportunity to leave the city and live from one inn to the next. Probably not as many time as he had. He rubbed the bridge of his muzzle absently then nodded to himself, satisfied. The engineers would be rejoining them soon. He should probably go talk to the inn's owner and let him know they'd be making camp just outside. He hopped back over the creek and put his hand on the door. But something stopped him. It didn't feel right. He shifted nervously on his feet, his paw still on the door knob. He sucked in a deep breath, swelling out his chest as he composed his confidence, his left paw resting on the hilt of his sword. He leaned in towards the door and listened. It was completely quiet. Huh. That's a first. He started to open the door when he heard a terrifying scream.

Volod swung his sword as hard as he could under the table. There was nothing he could do about the cloth around it, but it struck true enough. The wolf's shin give in, cracked if not entirely shattered, the tattered cloth around the chunk of steel doing little to cushion the blow. He howled out and began to crumble to the floor, all but dropping his sword. Volod's heart raced in his chest. Against all odds, he managed to keep the short sword pinched between his fingers. Surprise, he thought. Surprise and this sword are all I have.

He let go of his own sword and took hold of the short sword properly with that hand, swinging the flat against the dog behind him. The blow landed square in his stomach before he got a chance to draw, the canine letting out a choked sound as the wind was knocked from him. He went down and clawed at the floor, coughing and sputtering next to his wailing companion. This was going far better than he could have hoped for so far. Now for the--!

"Oomf!" That dizzy feeling came back all at once and the porridge he'd just eaten threatened to come right back up as the huge horse spilled out of his chair. He coughed a few times before letting out a surprised bark of a sound, the bear lifting him by his tangled mane. Several clumps of hair and fur pulled out before he was flung across the table. He landed in a heap on the other side, his shoulder glancing on the far corner before he landed head first on the floor, his body joining soon after. His knuckles had scraped across the table top and he could feel the warm blood rolling down his fingers and, to his relief, the sword he'd manage to keep hold of. A huge shape blocked out what little light he had left to himself and he looked up just in time to see the bear climbing over the table, brandishing a big chunk of something. He lifted it over his head high, Volod cursing the high, steeped roof of the otherwise tiny inn-- Then covered his face as the table collapsed under the huge bear. He fell in a pile of fur and leather in the middle, letting out a deep rumble of a groan. Volod didn't get a chance to survey the damage before the dog was upon him. He caught a glancing blow, barely deflecting the vicious swing in time. The familiar sting of cold metal slicing through his fur coursed through his side. The next swing was easy to see coming and he didn't even bother using his sword. He stepped forward and grabbed the dog's wrist, holding the sword fast while he bashed the hilt of his own into the canine's face. He fell like a sack of bricks, teeth and blood matting his fur as he collapsed to the floor. Volod glanced around and saw the wolf crawling towards him. He was gasping and sucking breath through his teeth, clearly in immense pain. Unfortunately, his rage clouded his judgement and he was moving towards Volod. A moment of panic set in when Volod failed to see the bear, but then he realized he hadn't got up and could see why. Several large splinters jutted through his leg and side and a chair that he apparently fell on lay smashed next to his head. Volod touched his side and felt the extent of the damage the dog had done. A flesh wound, but anything could be deadly given time and infection. He snorted and rubbed the blood on himself--his rags had become even sparser after that brief combat--and stomped towards the wolf. He pressed the point of the sword against his nose and growled impatiently. "Get the fuck out!" The wolf glared at him defiantly and batted clumsily at the sword, spitting a curse at Volod. He would have none of that. He stepped on the wolf's snout, his hoof pressing painfully into the canine muzzle as he leaned over him and plucked the longsword from the wolf's scabbard. "Get! Out!" He stabbed the longsword into the wooden floor with a dull thud just out of the wolf's reach and picked him up by the scruff of the neck. Light flooded the room and the wolf and horse both turned their heads away, wincing at the intrusion. There was an awkward silence for a moment then the voice of someone used to giving commands and being listened to. "Drop him." The gleam of armor was visible as another canine stepped into the room. "He's coming with us." Nobody moved for a few moments, all eyes on the interloper as another uncomfortable silence stretched on. He tried to think of a reason to argue, but clearly the other man had the upper hand either way. So he listened and dropped the bandit who yelped when he landed on his broken leg. The armored man stepped in and looked around, surveying what had happened. He let out an impressed sound and shook his head. "Well, it sure seems like they got more than they planned on, huh?" the wolf snorted--this armored man was also a wolf, it appeared--and shrugged. "Oh, thank the gods!" the badger woman exhaled deeply! "You're here!" Volod couldn't contain his surprise and openly cocked his head. What the hell was going on? "Wait," the armored wolf commanded coolly. He peeked out of the door behind him and gestured. A few other men in chainmail hurried in. They, too, paused to look at all the damage before gathering up the bandits Volod had battered (or at least the two he had battered and the bear who had apparently knocked himself out by falling headfirst onto a chair.) They shuffled out and their commander stepped towards Volod. He grinned broadly and removed his gauntlet, extending his hand towards Volod. The gesture was completely lost on him. "I'd like to say thank you for doing the dirty work for me," the wolf smirked. "I've been having just the most wonderful day and that would've outright ruined it for me!" He kept his hand extended for a long, uncomfortable moment. Volod stared at him blankly. Doubros looked around awkwardly, as though asking whether or not this ragged creature could speak. Ah well. When in doubt, go back to basics. "Captain Doubros. Galen Doubros." He looked up at the draft horse pensively, unsure if he'd reply. "Volod," he replied in a deep voice. "I'm, uh...sorry if I've caused any damage. I was just eating." His heart was still beating hard and his breathing had only just started to slow down, the adrenaline thinning but. A million thoughts were running through his head right now, none of which made any sense. Who were those bandits? And these...guards, were they? He had to calm down and size things up again. The wolf--Doubros--laughed. "Oh! No, no!" he put a paw on Volod's thick, scarred shoulder. "No, what you've done for me is a kindness," he leaned in close and chuckled. "Maybe not so much for my men, though!" He turned sideways and barked out. "Lieutenant! Get some men and let's get this place cleaned up!" The captain smirked at Volod and nodded at the sword still in his hand. "Would you mind terribly...?" Volod couldn't help but to chuckle sheepishly and blush. The sword was clearly useless against this man and his entourage. He set the shortsword on the table next to him and tried to ignore the pain in his fingers and the slowing hearbeat in his ears. He looked at his hand then at the sword and wondered how neither had left an imprint on the other.