The dwarf cleared his throat again, rested a hand against his chest, and took a breath to speak -- but his sharp-eared female accomplice beat him to it, calling from the room down the hall.

"We saw you bein' hunted by that Jockal," she explained, even while she kept a dagger leveled at the Marshal's unconscious head. "And then we saw you bein' herded up by this one, and we knowed [i]he's[/i] a minion of that damned witch --"

Feather-hat interrupted her by raising his voice, "-- and [i]this[/i] is the witch's hideout. We've been watching her a long time, enough to know that it's bad news when a pretty girl like you is shut up in a place like this. I'm sorry we took so long. We couldn't risk facing the Marshal unprepared, and we'd had a bit of trouble with the explosives."

"[i]You're[/i] tha one who busted the barrels!" the little lady huffed.

Feather-hat chose to ignore her. He took off his hat with a flourish to Sam, and he bowed. "But let me make introductions. My name is Alphonse. The [i]lovely[/i] lady is my sister, Coralie, and big-nose over there is Florian."

Florian grinned sheepishly and gave Sam a shy wave. He was sitting sturdily on the Marshal's chest -- a fine job, for he was the biggest of the three.

Dorothea, having been let out of her cage, rubbed against Sam's legs and purred. She wasn't quite sure yet whether it was wise to speak in front of these hooligans -- they may still betray her to the queen, or assume her a witch, herself, and kill her. For now, she would trust Sam's judgment.

Alphonse cleared his throat again politely. "I would like to extend to you an invitation to supper. Since, really, the nearest civilization is a full night's journey on foot. You're bound to be hungry?" He grinned up at Sam, hopeful.

Coralie and Florian, assured that the Marshal wouldn't wake anytime soon, began gathering him up between them to carry. They had themselves a prisoner -- at least, they couldn't very well leave him to cause any more trouble.