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XXI

Horrors of War

"Get up."

The ferret grunted when he felt somebeast kicking him in the ribs roughly. Glud snorted and shook his head, opening his eyes and letting his blurry vision slowly brighten up so he could see what just happened. The ferret blinked twice as he gradually sat up and rubbed some of the sleep from the corners of his eyes. Two rats were standing in front of the ferret, their arms folded as they blended in with the darkness around them.

"Wot d'you two want?"

"Jus' wanna have a li'l meeting, Glud. Follow me and Muslar; this won't take long."

Glud huffed; he recognized Dirtfoot's voice immediately. The old ferret wasn't in the mood for hearing another lecture or getting into another argument with the filthy rat, but he figured whatever Dirtfoot had to say wouldn't take too long. Glud followed the two corsairs, stepping quietly along the ground as he tried to avoid walking on any twigs or crunchy leaves. Most of the pirates were still sleeping during the starry night, hoping to have another series of pleasant dreams before they were rudely interrupted by more woodland critters or the shining sun. Glud checked his belt, making sure all his throwing knives were still on him in case the rats tried anything. He sniffed the air and scratched his head, ignoring the strands of fur that fell from his body. The ferret heard a few crickets chirping moments before something fell on the ground, landing onto a pile of leaves and sending them into the air. Glud started to grasp his sword as the rodents took him further into the darkened forest, away from all the other pirates. They finally stopped out in a small opening that provided some moonlight, a tiny field with blooming bushes and trees surrounding it.

"Wot's all this, Dirtfoot? You wanted t'show me some berry bushes?"

"No. Jus' stand there an' shut up."

Glud did as he was told. Muslar leaned against a tree while Dirtfoot started to pace left and right, his nasty footpaws leaving grimy prints in the clean grass.

"We are all pirates, yeah?"

The ferret nodded. "Yes."

Dirtfoot snorted. "An' wot do pirates do?"

Glud scratched his head again. "We-we look for treasure. Y'know, sail the seas, have adventures, um, explore new places...s'a vague question, Dirtfoot. Pirates can do wotever they want."

"Exactly, Glud. Yore still trapped in that fantasy version of how we do things! The real answer is that we pirates kill. We go 'round thrustin' our way into any cunt we find! We burn down villages; we crush other pirates on the seas; we steal wot we want, eat, drink anythin' we come across, an' we slaughter anybeast in our way! That's wot we do!"

Glud flicked his eyes at Dirtfoot and Muslar. "Where's this goin'?"

Dirtfoot stopped walking and stared at Glud. "It all depends on how you feel 'bout the situation at paw."

"Wot situation?"

Dirtfoot sighed. "Kurwin...he's not the ferret he used to be. He used to know wot a true pirate was. Every day was an 'adventure' fer us. Take o'er an island here, fuck some prisoners there, an' we'd end the day with a nice, fat bottle of grog or rum! Our lives were so simple back then. Dangerous an' stressful at times...but simple."

"I suppose so," Glud agreed.

"But now look at us. Look at wot our 'glorious' captain is doin' to this crew! Beasts are dyin' every day, constantly thrust into battles we ain't asked for, wanderin' 'round on this filth these beasts call land! We should be out there, on the water, breathin' in that salty sea air, Glud! Don't you miss that? Don't...don't you wanna go back to that? Wot purpose do we have in taken over this accursed forest that has claimed the lives o' thousands of us vermin in the last few generations?"

The ferret didn't answer. He glanced down for a moment, pondering all of his options now that Dirtfoot was going down this road. Glud sniffed as he started to rub his paws together, trying to think of the right words to say.

"You know how Kurwin is, Dirtfoot. Once his mind is made up, there's no changin' it. How are you gonna convince him to forget about this forest, forget about Mossflower and conquering these goodbeasts altogether?"

"I'm not talkin' about convincing Kurwin. We're well past that option. Somethin' more..." Dirtfoot paused and sucked on his teeth, "immediate would have to happen."

Glud stared at Dirtfoot, listening to the insects making noises in the background as a gentle breeze brushed across his face. He flicked his eyes at Muslar before staring at Dirtfoot again, taking note of the smirk on his muzzle. Then the ferret took two steps backwards and stammered.

"Y...you're serious."

"Course he is! Kurwin still owes me a ship after me last one got sunk!" Muslar suddenly blurted out.

"That ship sank 'cos of Tilhym's treachery! We lost nearly a third of our entire crew that week before Kurwin finally fed 'im to the sharks! An' now you two want all that to start again?"

"I see yore upset," Dirtfoot stated.

"No fuckin' shit. D'you have any idea wot kinda position you're puttin' yourselves in? If I was Traegar, I'd have sliced yer necks in half!"

"Which is exactly why we're talkin' to you and not him. Two captains can't do this alone. We're both smart enough to realize that."

"And you want me to join this li'l 'group' of yours. You want me to support wotever it is you've got planned."

"More or less."

The ferret rubbed his chin and shook his head. "No. Yer both wrong. I can't just--"

Dirtfoot raised a paw. "You need some time to think. I understand that. If that's the case, then sleep on it. Give me yore answer in the mornin'."

"And wot if I don't have an answer?"

"Then your tongue holds no value, and we'll cut it from yer mouth while you're sleeping," Muslar growled.

Glud's eyes grew wide. He flicked his eyes at Muslar before staring at Dirtfoot's malicious grin again.

"You'd better get some sleep, Glud. It's gonna be another long day tomorrow."

Dirtfoot kept smirking at the ferret, slyly moving his paw to the side of his cutlass in case he needed to use it. But the ferret was smart enough to keep his blade holstered, and he knew all the other pirates would murder him on the spot if they found out he killed two captains for reasons they were unaware of. So Glud nodded slowly and sighed, walking backwards for a brief moment in case either rat tried to kill him. Then he turned around and hurried back to the campsite, still wondering what he should do about Dirtfoot and Muslar's proposals.

---

It started off so well, so peacefully. The corporal hadn't had a good night sleep in such a long time. He hadn't had time to masturbate in private, time to have sex with another female ever since spring began. Corporal Enston Tekwyn was finally sleeping quietly to himself, after leaving a huge puddle of his seed all over the ground. But now he was crouching behind a large tree, whimpering as he held his sabre and heard more beasts being slaughtered in the background. The corporal slowly peeked around the corner of the tree, shouting when an arrow flew in his direction and landed in the wood. Enston shut his eyes and continued to shake some more, hearing loud footsteps in the distance. He opened his eyes wide. This was no time for cowardice. He needed to act now. Enston shouted as he jumped out into the open, sprinting out into the community that was now a hellish battleground. He spotted a stoat wildly swinging her battle axe at a few harmless Tearmannians, chopping off one's head before kicking another in the stomach. The hedgehog screamed and held up his arms, hoping the stoat would show mercy. The stoat grunted as Corporal Tekwyn drove his sabre through her. The corporal snarled as he kicked the dead stoat away and helped the hedgehog get on his footpaws.

"C'mon, let's go! We gotta find a safe place fer you!"

The hog stammered. "Th-there's a safe--um, there's a shelter we--"

The corporal gasped airily when he felt a sharp pain in his back. The hedgehog screamed and began to run away right when Enston looked down at his stomach. The gray hare whimpered as the weasel standing behind him removed his cutlass from the corporal's torso.

"GOTCHA!"

Enston felt his fingers loosening, the sabre falling from his paw. Then he shouted twice as the weasel started to stab him in the back relentlessly, sticking his dagger into the hare's flesh with a grin on his face. Five times, ten, fifteen--the weasel didn't stop. The hare coughed and whined as he felt the blade puncturing his flesh several times, each wound feeling like a massive bee sting that began to fester. Enston collapsed to his stomach and whined, his back raw and bloody. The weasel exhaled harshly as he walked up to Enston's head and crouched down, wagging his tail as he heard the hare whining.

"Tongue or throat?"

Enston whimpered twice as he tried to crawl towards his sabre. The weasel kicked it away before he rolled Enston's body over and got on top of him. Still clutching his dagger, he hissed and stretched Enston's jaw open.

"TONGUE IT IS!"

The weasel messily shoved his dagger into the hare's maw. Corporal Tekwyn's eyes grew wide as his mouth was suddenly overflowing with crimson. He released a gurgled moan as the thick, slightly metallic-tasting fluids started to flow down his throat. The weasel panted as he cut the hare's tongue in half and took the flat hunk of flesh from his mouth. The vermin giggled like a babe before he wagged the severed tongue in Enston's face and carelessly tossed it aside. Then the weasel stood up and resumed panting as he looked for more victims, while Enston slowly bled out. The weasel merrily sprinted around the community, slicing and stabbing his way through the goodbeasts. But many of the Tearmannians weren't willing to go down without a fight. Somewhere in the orchards, Rubus was gripping his battle hammer and covering a few Tearmannians. The burly hedgehog took a few steps back before he heard the ominous sound of various thick strings twanging.

"DOWN! EVERYBEAST DOWN!"

Rubus shut his eyes and hit the ground, along with three otters and a mole. A volley of arrows was fired in their direction, the thin missiles slicing through the leaves on some bushes and puncturing fresh fruit. An otter shouted as two arrows hit his chest, and another collapsed to his stomach as he tried to run, only to get hit in the spine. Rubus instantly got back to his footpaws and grabbed his hammer as more Red Sand vermin started to rush them. One of the ferrets dropped her crossbow and took out her cutlass, ready to run Rubus through. The hedgehog roared ferociously as the two beasts ran towards each other. Then the ferret sidled to her right just as he swung his hammer downwards. Rubus' eyes grew wide. He spun around and shouted as he jerked his head backwards, nearly having his head sliced in half. Rubus ducked and panted as he continued to back away, the ferret swiftly waving her cutlass in the hog's face. Rubus grunted and swiped his hammer at the vermin's footpaws; the ferret hopped in the air and spun around, twirling her sword. The second the ferret landed, Rubus snarled and tackled her down.

The ferret didn't have time to raise her head before Rubus slammed his hammer down, crushing the upper half of the vermin's head. Rubus shouted twice as two arrows found their way into his body, forcing him to fall to his knees.

"Rubus!"

Rubus panted and shouted as he saw a stoat reaching for his knife. He rolled over on the ground as the stoat threw his weapon, mistakenly hitting one of his allies. Rubus grunted as he stood up and effortlessly pulled the arrows from his body, as if they were tiny twigs. The stoat didn't wait for Rubus to try anything and tossed two knives at his burly body. The hedgehog found himself diving onto the ground again, panting as he grabbed the dead ferret's cutlass. The stoat began to back away as Rubus chased after him, while the small group of survivors found themselves using the environment to their advantage. One of the otters took a rock from the ground and fitted it inside his lucky sling, which he promptly launched at a rat's jaw. The rat grunted after his jaw broke and he found himself struggling to stand up. By the time he recovered from the wound, the otter was on top of him and violently choking him to death. As the survivors continued to fight back, some of the soldiers were quickly being taken out by a lithe female ferret who had various light red tattoos all over her face and neck. One of the ferret's lieutenants panted as he sprinted over to her, already suffering from a small head wound.

"Orders, Sesslyn?"

The ferret was about to say something when she spotted an otter desperately trying to crawl his way to freedom. Sesslyn blinked and walked over to him, pressing a footpaw down on his back. The otter whimpered as he slowly raised a paw up in the air.

"Wait...please--"

Sesslyn blinked before she planted her sword into the back of the otter's neck. "Kill 'em. Slaughter everybeast in Tearmann."

"Even the--"

"Everybeast, Rektar. You make sure Russell's mine. But we're not leavin' here until this entire community's full of corpses."

The lieutenant nodded. "Yes, Lady Sesslyn!"

The weasel rushed off to resume his assault, while the ferret removed her sword and took out a second one from its sheath. A group of six otters and hedgehogs were all rushing towards her, all of them half-dressed or in their pajamas after being rudely awakened. The ferret looked down at her blue tunic that was covered in blood before blinking and examining all of the knives in her waistsash made from an adder's hide. Sesslyn snorted, looking at all of the soldiers and planning out her attacks in her head. Sesslyn slowly crouched down and placed her swords on the ground, waiting for the right moment. The leader of the group, a burly beast who wasn't wearing any clothing, was the first one to approach her. The ferret quickly flipped herself over, lashing her footpaw out as she flipped. The hedgehog shouted as he fell down, having been kicked in the jaw. Two otters tried to attack from the sides; Sesslyn rolled backwards twice, snatching an arrow from the ground. She stood up and twirled her body around, taking note of the hedgehog ready to run her through. In the time it took to blink, Sesslyn sidled out the way, lifted her paw, and jammed the arrow into his left eye socket.

As the hedgehog fell down, the same two otters rushed her again. Sesslyn crouched down and punched one in the groin before leaping forward and rolling along the ground. She picked up both swords again, grunting as she threw one of them and struck one otter in the face. Sesslyn weaved her head to the left, wincing as a hog's sabre nicked her neck. Sesslyn shook the wound off as the remaining four warriors all charged for her. Still holding one sword, Sesslyn took two steps backward and crouched down, wagging her tail. When the four beasts reached her, Sesslyn lunged forward again and swiped at a hedgehog's stomach, using her lithe body to hop in-between two of the beasts' bodies. The four creatures quickly turned around, realizing too little too late that Sesslyn was behind them now. The ferret sprinted towards the beasts, swiftly chopping one's head off before she drove her sword into another beast's chest. Sesslyn removed her sword from the chest cavity before dropping it on the ground. Then she slowly started to walk towards the hedgehog and otter, both of whom were shaking and trying to hold their sabres properly. One of them tried throwing his sword, but Sesslyn side-stepped him and retaliated by hurling a knife at his forehead.

The final otter tripped over a vermin's dead body and dropped his weapon. Sesslyn showed the beast no mercy, hurling a knife at both of his footpaws so he couldn't even run. As the otter howled in pain and tried to remove the knives, the ferret walked over his body, grasping another knife in her right paw. She got on her knees as the otter whimpered and drove a knife into his throat. Then she removed the knife and stabbed him one, twice, thrice, blinking as blood spewed from the wound and splashed all over her face and clothing. By the time she finished stabbing him, her entire face was soiled by the crimson, and the ferret was sure she ruined his vocal cords and esophagus. Sesslyn quickly got up and sprinted over to where her fallen swords and knives were. She calmly retrieved them, and then snorted as a few hares started to close her off in a circle.

"Finally. Somebeast challenging."

---

Becker was smiling as he looked down at Lillen. Her eyes were closed and she was breathing quietly, her stomach moving slowly each time she took a breath. The chubby hare heard various noises from below but paid no attention to it. He was more concerned with the young hare who was sleeping and using his shoulder as a pillow. Becker sniffed the air a few times and scowled, noticing a familiar, heady odor. The hare looked down at the ground as he heard a few beasts running along the ground and not even trying to be stealthy. The scent was growing stronger, and Becker's ears wiggled as he heard faint screams in the distance. Becker turned around and frowned as he looked at Tearmann. He didn't know what it was, but something in his gut told him that they needed to head back. Becker grabbed Lillen's shoulder and shook her.

"Lillen. Lillen, wake up!"

The hare slowly opened her eyes and sat up. "Hmm?"

"We gotta go back! There's somethin' goin' on in Tearmann!"

Lillen flared her nostrils and frowned too. "Is that vermin?"

"I'm pretty sure. We have--"

Becker shouted and nearly fell off the tree branch. Lillen looked over at Becker and shrieked. An arrow was sticking out of the hare's fat gut. Becker grunted and started to breathe heavily; blood was slowly running down his abdomen and staining his blue coat.

"Shit! Oh n--ju-just stay still! Don't--"

Lillen shouted again when an arrow flew past her face. Another arrow nearly hit Becker in the throat, causing the hare to shout and instinctively jerk himself backwards. Then Becker screamed as gravity took its course, and he started to fall to the ground. He grunted as his body broke through several leaves and branches, the wood snapping and crunching as he twirled through the air and continued to reach the bottom. Becker reached up and shouted as he felt his right arm being stretched out. He managed to grab a thick branch before he fell to the ground, but his arm felt like the bones had just been ripped out of his fur. Becker panted as his fingers began to slip, and he shouted one last time before he fell a few feet and landed on the ground hard. The hare's vision went blurry as his breath became ragged. He closed his eyes for a while, his mind still rattling, the arrow still lodged inside his belly. Becker took a few deep breaths before he opened his eyes again and heard Lillen shouting in a muffled voice. Becker tried to lift his head, but he groaned and collapsed, his vision still blurry. Becker coughed twice before he heard a few beasts screaming and another beast panting.

"Get up! C'mon, get up!"

Becker slowly opened his eyes and saw Lillen panting as she fought off a few vermin. The corporal snarled as she slashed one across the face and kicked one in the groin. The rat shouted and fell to his knees, seconds before Lillen drove her sabre into the rodent's skull. She panted as she removed the weapon, at which point Becker was starting to rise to his footpaws. The hare coughed again as he grabbed the arrow and started to pull on it.

"DON'T! You'll only make it worse--leave it in!"

Becker looked at Lillen and laughed weakly. "I can't leave this...this in, m'dear. All this blood's ruinin' my coat!"

Becker grunted when Lillen slapped him across the face. "This is not the time for makin' jokes! Can you still walk?"

Becker slowly took a few steps backwards and forwards. "Yeah. Prob'ly can't run though."

"Wot about your sword?"

Becker removed his sabre and struggled as he held it firmly and stood straight up. "I...I'll be fine, Lillen. Been through worse, y'know."

"You sure?"

"Yeah...I think."

"Okay, okay. We gotta head back now--everybeast at Tearmann must be in trouble!"

Becker and Lillen started to quickly walk towards Tearmann when they heard more footsteps skittering along the ground.

"Shit...they're not the only ones..." murmured Becker.

---

They didn't leave each other's side. They couldn't, not with this many beasts around them. They panted softly as they looked around the village, seeking out their targets. Sanjoy and Clannin slowly moved forward, stepping meticulously and darting their eyes left and right. Sanjoy saw a target on Clannin's side and blinked.

"Left," she said.

Clannin launched an arrow to his left and hit a stoat in the neck. He quickly reloaded his arrow while the two hares stepped to their right. Clannin spotted two ferrets sprinting towards Sanjoy.

"Right," he said.

Sanjoy flicked her eyes to the right and waved her rapier at the two vermin. They swung aimlessly and with no clear direction. Sanjoy ducked and thrust her weapon forward, piercing an unkempt rat in the stomach. She quickly removed her rapier before both hares hopped to the left to avoid the other vermin as he swung his sword. Sanjoy snarled as she charged for the stoat, swooping low and sticking her pointy blade in the beast's right leg. The stoat shouted and dropped her sword, giving Sanjoy enough time to stick her rapier into the creature's throat. She backed up and rejoined Clannin, who fired off another arrow and hit a ferret below the neck. Sanjoy glanced over Clannin's shoulder and huffed.

"Two."

"Which side?"

"Both."

Clannin swore, but he remained calm. He swiftly reloaded his arrow and fired at the ferret trying to flank him. By then, the other weasel was upon him, spear drawn.

"Hop!"

Clannin hit the ground, and at the exact same time, Sanjoy hopped over his body and avoided getting hit by the spear. The weasel's eyes grew wide just when Sanjoy struck him in the throat with her rapier. She quickly left Clannin's side for a moment so she could acquire one of the fallen vermin's cutlasses. Then she walked over to Clannin and smirked at him.

"Backs?"

Clannin smirked back. "Backs."

Sanjoy and Clannin turned around and pressed their backs to each other. As Clannin stepped to his left, Sanjoy stepped to her right. The male hare notched another arrow to his bow and released a breath, letting it fly as he struck another rat in the chest. Sanjoy fended off a swift-moving weasel with her new cutlass before slicing through the beast's midriff, spilling his organs all over the ground. Sanjoy and Clannin looked around and could see that at least a dozen vermin were coming for them. Sanjoy grinned as she gripped her weapons tightly.

"Spin."

Clannin huffed and rolled his eyes. "You know I hate it when we do that. It gets me all dizzy, wot!"

"Spin."

"Fer fuck's sake...fine. Spin!"

The hares started to spin around, waving their weapons erratically as the vermin got close to them. Two vermin screamed as their torsos were ripped open. Sanjoy panted as she swung her cutlass upwards, slicing a stoat from his groin to his throat. Clannin shouted and groaned with frustration, his vision already getting blurry from spinning around with his back still pressed against Sanjoy's. An archer fired an arrow at them; Sanjoy chopped the arrow in half before it had the time to reach them. A rat tried to throw a spear, but Sanjoy drove her rapier through his heart before he had the chance. Clannin held his sabre tightly as he positioned it around his torso and swung it around, using it to eviscerate three of the Red Sand vermin, their innards spilling out around their footpaws. Whoever was left decided that the two hares weren't worth it, and they promptly ran away to go after more defenseless beasts. Sanjoy and Clannin stopped spinning, their faces coated with sweat as both beasts started to pant. Sanjoy looked around and could see that none of the vermin were chasing after them. She giggled.

"Hehehe, wasn't that fun, Clannin?"

Sanjoy heard a loud thud and groan. Clannin was lying on his back, his vision still spinning around as he looked up at the sky.

"Yeah. Fun," he said flatly.

---

There was no way that the mole was going to let those foul beasts ruin his precious domain. Most beasts carried swords, rapiers, axes even. All he needed was his frying pan and rolling pin. The dark brown mole chef wore his apron and regular clothing casually, even sporting a white friar's hat. He breathed heavily as he held his two weapons, flicking his eyes left and right at his apprentice and the old hedgehog carrying a crossbow in his paws.

"We'll be fine, Zhael. Jus' aim furr ee heads; they'll go down quick!" said Meklarn.

The young mole took a few deep breaths, shaking as he held the large kitchen knife in his paws. "Awroight...awroight, Meklarn."

The old hedgehog snickered. "Surprised I still know how to wield this confounded thing!"

"Jus' keep thurr glasses on, Logan! Dun' wan' ee t'hit moi bum by mistake, burr aye!"

"I won't."

The three beasts didn't have to wait long before the main hall's doors were kicked open and a group of vile-looking vermin came inside. There were only six of them; the rest were outside, still massacring the rest of the Tearmannians. The vermin quickly slammed the doors shut before anybeast stormed inside. One of the panting rats stared at the moles and hedgehog and started to laugh.

"Really? We were sittin' here thinkin' this hall would be full o' you beasts, an' all we get is two chefs an' a fuckin' hog too old t'piss properly?"

The rat laughed again as he slowly approached the trio. "You must be fuckin'--"

The rat grunted when Logan fired an arrow into the rodent's neck. The other five vermin gasped and stared at Logan with wide eyes as he loaded another arrow into his crossbow. The hedgehog grinned as he aimed at the other vermin around him.

"Anybeast else?"

The vermin acted speedily, rushing towards the three beasts. Logan fired another arrow, hitting one Red Sand tribe vermin in the side and causing him to fall. The other beast coming after him shouted as he lifted his paw high and tried to slash at the elderly beast's face. Logan grabbed his arm, gritting his teeth and grunting as he tried to fend off the malicious creature. The weasel punched Logan in the face a few times, knocking him to the floor, his spectacles falling from the bridge of his muzzle. As the two creatures fought, Meklarn was using his cooking utensils as swords of their own. When the weasel wielding a rapier tried to thrust his weapon into his pudgy belly, he quickly used his pan as a shield. The weasel snarled as the sword clanged against the metallic cookware multiple times, until Meklarn jerked his right paw over and whacked him in the wrist with his rolling pin. The weasel shouted and dropped his rapier before Meklarn bashed him across the face with his pan, knocking out some of his teeth. After he fell, Meklarn and one of the other rats started dueling with their "swords," with Meklarn countering and blocking each attack with the pin or pan.

Meklarn rolled onto the table as the rat shouted and swung his sword down, slicing into the wood. The rat grunted and swore as his sword got stuck in the furniture. Meklarn quickly bonked him on the head twice with the heavy pan, making the rat scream as blood started to run down his head. The mole kicked the vermin in the face before he hopped off the table and started to stomp towards him. His legs shaking, the rat took out a knife and took a few steps back, his vision blurred from the aching wounds to his cranium. Meklarn ran up to him as the rat started to jab at the mole and defended himself with the small weapon. But the mole smacked it out of his paw with ease before smashing the pan against the left side of his face. The rat spat out more blood before he found himself lying beside one of the benches in front of the tables. Meklarn snarled as he grabbed the back of his head and pried his maw open, shoving it forward so it looked as though he was trying to bite down on the wood. Then Meklarn grunted as he kicked the rat in the back of the head as hard as possible, making the rat gurgle as his jaw broke and more blood and teeth spewed from his mouth.

Zhael was backed up against the wall. He was still holding his knife with shaky paws, whimpering as the chubby weasel walked up towards him. The weasel grinned widely, drooling as he waved his cutlass around. Zhael panicked and threw his knife at the weasel, hoping to hit him in the face. But the hilt of the knife bounced off the weasel's muzzle, as opposed to the blade hitting him in the eye. The weasel snorted and shook his head, and then he chased after the young mole as he screamed and began to run. Zhael shouted as he felt a sharp pain lash against his back; he could feel blood running down his spine. The mole whimpered before he found himself leaning against a counter filled with cooking spices. The weasel grabbed him by the throat and started to choke him, the mole gurgling as he thrashed his legs around and moved his arms around the table, looking for anything to use to his advantage. He grabbed a bag of flour and threw some in the weasel's face, but all he did was sneeze on the mole's head. Zhael whimpered and gurgled, reaching for a metal bowl. He banged it against the vermin's face a few times with a comical clanging noise, but the weasel eventually shoved the bowl away.

Then Zhael grabbed a container filled with minced hotroot pepper and tossed some in the weasel's face. His eyes began to burn instantly, and the weasel screamed as he dropped his cutlass and let go of the mole. He backed away, tears falling from his eyes as he tried to rub the substance from the watery orbs. Zhael quickly grabbed the weasel and slammed his face against the furnace, listening to his fur and flesh as it began to sizzle. The weasel's screams quickly filled the mole's ears; his paws started to become hot after being next to the furnace for too long. Zhael quickly let go of the beast's head and let his body fall to the floor. The mole panted as he ran for his kitchen knife and swiped it off the floor. The weasel rolled over, grabbing his burnt face as he tried to stand up. But he never got the chance, as Zhael pounced on him, tackling him down as he stabbed him with the knife in his plump belly. Then he stabbed him again in the chest, snarling and gritting his teeth as his eyes glistened with tears.

Logan was coughing and breathing heavily as he dragged his footpaws along the floor and ended up beside the second vermin he hit with his arrow. He quickly removed the shaft from his midriff just in time for the weasel who was attacking him to pounce on him again. Logan shouted and jerked the arrow upwards, placing the arrow through the weasel's right eye. The weasel suddenly went still as blood poured from his wound. And then the panting hedgehog coughed a few more times before he sluggishly moved his body aside. He stood up and began to look for his glasses while Meklarn walked over to the weasel who was missing a few teeth and had a broken wrist. The chef bashed him across the face again before he got on his knees and began to snarl.

"STAY! THE FUCK! OUT! O' MOI! KITCHEN!"

He slammed his frying pan against the weasel's face with each word or two words he pronounced, breaking the skull and releasing crimson all over the tiled floor. By the time he was finished, blood had splattered all over Meklarn's apron, and the weasel's face was so torn up that his left eye looked like it was about to roll out of his maimed skull. The panting mole slammed his frying pan on the floor before he rubbed his head and exhaled. The chef stood up and walked over to his apprentice, who was still stabbing the weasel and shaking. The vermin's belly was torn wide open, revealing some of his intestines, and his chest was filled with holes.

"Zhael?"

The mole stabbed him three more times.

"ZHAEL! Hurr, oi'm think ee be dead now!"

The mole looked back at the smirking chef before he looked down at the weasel and dropped the knife. The whimpering mole quickly stood up and coughed, feeling bile coming up his throat. He started to cover his mouth with his arm, but the realization of what he'd done was enough for him to lurch and vomit all over the floor. Meklarn sighed as he patted the mole on the back and rubbed the back of his neck.

"It's awroight, mate. Let it out."

Zhael coughed twice before he let out another throaty gurgling noise, which was followed by another giant torrent of green and orange bile filled with half-digested vegetable chunks. The bitter-smelling mess splashed against Zhael's footpaws and the weasel's dead body; Meklarn scrunched up his face when he was hit with the nasty odor. The mole sniffed and spat on the floor, wiping his mouth off before he stood straight up.

"Oi'm...oi'm okay...oi'm fine."

"Ye sure? That be ee biggun scar on yurr back!"

"...Oi'm fine."

Meklarn blinked before he glanced across the room and saw Logan sitting down and breathing heavily. "Wot 'bout ee, Logan? Yurr zeem a bit winded!"

Logan grabbed his spectacles and pushed them back on the bridge of his muzzle again. "Whew! I'm fine, jus'...just need to catch my breath. My goodness--I don't know how my brother did this for so many years!"

Meklarn's eyes grew wide when he heard the ferret Logan wounded earlier slowly rise from the floor. The hedgehog shouted and quickly grabbed his crossbow. The ferret didn't have enough time to reach for his knife before Logan shot another arrow into his neck. Logan let his heartbeat slow down as he dropped his crossbow and groaned with exhaustion.

"I'm too old for this shit..."

---

It's where children always hide when they're scared. It was their comfort zone, the one place they could go if they wanted to cry or whimper whenever they thought a monster was nearby. It was the one place where they felt safe whenever their parents weren't around, or if their parents had already been slain. And yet, all the babes and young beasts in the room were filled with dread as the four vermin slowly walked around, quietly stepping on the creaky wooden floor. One of the vermin rubbed her nose before she stared at the weasel stepping along the floor slowly.

"Gonna getcha...gonna getcha..."

"Angus, nobeast is here. Let's head back--"

"No," the weasel snapped. "I know they're here...nobeast can hide from Angus Renhym! They're here...can't you smell 'em?"

Drulra and Jamey held their breath as Angus slowly walked past the beds they were hiding under. All the beasts inside were lucky that the covers hung low enough to the floor to conceal anybeast or anything should it be placed beneath the mattress. The weasel hissed and grinned widely, stepping in front of a bed and taking out his bloody dagger. He twirled the dagger around in his paw before he snorted and rubbed his nose.

"Gonna getcha...Angus is gonna GETCHA!"

The ferret huffed. "We don't have time--"

The weasel swiftly took a knife from his waistsash and threw it at the ferret's forehead. The remaining two vermin looked at the fallen ferret with wide eyes before the weasel snapped.

"SHUT YORE MOUTHS AN' GUARD THE DOOR! None a' you are gonna spoil my fun!"

The rodents flicked their eyes at each other, realizing they were better off respecting his wishes. As the rats backed away, Angus giggled and stood in front of another bed--the same one Kleewyn and Morrvin were hiding under. They could smell the weasel and his dirty footpaws; they knew he was beside the mattress. Both of them shut their eyes, hoping they didn't squeal or sob as they tried to stay as silent as possible. Angus threw his body onto the bed, sighing as he relaxed himself and let his footpaws rest near the foot of the bed. He tossed his dagger into the air over and over again, catching the handle and huffing.

"I wonder wot I'm gonna do to ya. Hmph. I'm not sure why you beasts are so afraid. It's quite simple really. The blade penetrates yer body very slowly...an' then all yer flesh is ruptured, torn apart. Maybe I'll nick yore heart. Maybe I'll slice a kidney in half. Ooh! Yore brain! Any a' you beasts heard that sound? S'like a hot knife slicing through wet, raw meat! You get to see all the blood on yer blade, get to smell all them sweet juices comin' out yore skull!"

Angus inhaled sharply as he licked his drool-coated lips. "So riveting..."

Kleewyn and Morrvin were both in tears, unable to so much as whimper as the weasel kept talking to himself. Kleewyn covered Morrvin's mouth as he sobbed quietly while the tiny hedgehog was failing to keep his eyes dry. As quiet as the molebabe was, he had no control over his other bodily functions. There was nothing either babe could do as they heard a soft, squishy, gurgled noise. Morrvin grunted twice before he passed gas, his pajamas now loaded with his own feces. Angus flared his nostrils and grinned widely as he hopped off the bed, cutlass drawn.

"Now I know yore here. I can smell yer fear...quite a strong stench it is!"

The weasel sniffed the air several times before he stepped beside a mattress and stared at it. He snorted before he took his cutlass and snarled, shoving the sword down into the mattress so hard that the blade tore through the material and hit the floor. The otter babe, Genfley, squealed and immediately covered his mouth after the sword nicked his left ear. A wicked smile came across Angus' face as he slowly removed the cutlass and held it over the mattress again, shifting the sword over a few inches. Genfley couldn't stay quiet anymore. He shut his eyes as he let out muffled sobs and felt hot tears running down his face.

"Gonna getcha...gonna getcha...gonna getcha..."

Angus slowly inserted the cutlass into the mattress, listening as the blade punctured the material and continued to go down. Genfley still had no idea where the blade was; he stayed still, praying that somebeast would come by and make the weasel go away. The beast missed before; he knew he'd miss again. The otter let out two soft sobs before his eyes grew wide. He felt something on his scalp, as if Death itself just stroked its bony finger against his head. The tip of Angus' blade was touching the top of his head. Genfley stayed absolutely still.

"GOTCHA!"

Genfley had enough time to squeal horribly before Angus slowly drove his cutlass into his skull, and then his brain. The otter babe suddenly went quiet, much to Angus' glee. The weasel giggled before he quickly removed his blade, taking note of the blood on the end of it. Angus moved away from the mattress and chuckled as he shook some of the blood off the end of the blade, ignoring the pool of blood slowly emerging from the bottom of the bed. The weasel was starting to walk towards one of the other beds when one of the rats shouted. Angus snapped his head over at the entrance and saw Jamey stabbing one of the rats in the leg with the dagger Qwuintuff gave him. The rat fell down, coughing moments before Jamey snarled and started to stab the rodent in the back of the neck. Angus saw another otter emerge from beneath the beds and grinned. He quickly crouched down and reached under a mattress, grabbing another beast by the neck and yanking her out. The hedgehog shouted and tried to fight against Angus as she was roughly dragged out into the open. Angus sliced at the beast's face before he hauled her onto her footpaws and wrapped one arm around her throat.

"AH! Now I think you two need to settle down!"

Drulra and Jamey were just about to kill the other rat when they turned and saw Angus holding Eve hostage. The rat drew his cutlass and prepared to stab Drulra in the back.

"Put it down. Less you wanna end up like that ferret over there," Angus growled.

The rat looked at the young otters before he blinked and lowered his cutlass. Angus giggled as he tightened his grip around the hedgehog's neck.

"Wot's yer name, darlin'?"

Eve didn't respond. She breathed heavily and whimpered as Angus used his other paw to plant the blade of his dagger against her cheek.

"Let go of her!" Jamey demanded.

The weasel ignored him. "How old are ya? Eleven seasons? Twelve? Hehe, the Red Sand tribe is gonna love you!"

"We're not gonna say it again," growled Drulra. "You drop that dagger, an' you let her go!"

Angus suddenly looked at the two otters and sniffed. "You said let her go?"

"That's right!"

"An' you want me to drop this dagger?"

"Yes!"

Angus wiggled his dagger. "This one? Right here?"

"FUCKIN' DROP IT!" Jamey barked.

Angus, surprisingly, dropped the dagger. The weapon clattered to the floor noisily. The sound filled the two otters with relief, knowing that they were both tough enough not to back down to the weasel's violent behavior. Then Angus shoved Eve forward and freed her, completely defenseless. The panting hedgehog spat at the weasel's face, and Angus held his paws out, as if he was giving up.

"Now...get the fuck--"

Angus took another knife from his waistsash and threw it at Eve's face. The hedgehog collapsed to the floor and lay still, while Angus started to laugh when he saw the otters' horrified faces.

"See? I let her go, exactly as ya said!"

Jamey stared at the hedgehog's dead body with watery eyes while Drulra screamed as she charged for the weasel. She started to swing her sword at him, snarling and gasping as she tried to chop the vermin to pieces. But Angus toyed with the otter, grinning as he ducked and backed away, watching as the otter's blade only made contact with air. He rolled over on the floor and grabbed his dagger before he jumped on top of a mattress. Drulra shouted and swung her sword downward, only to hit the bed and rip through the material and sheets. He flipped off the mattress and stood in front of another bed, still giggling as he took out his cutlass. And then he shouted and fell flat on his face after the molebabe hiding beneath the mattress grabbed his ankles and pulled on them hard. Angus lifted his head and snorted, just in time to hear at least a half dozen small beasts screaming. The weasel's eyes grew wide and he quickly got to his footpaws when he saw that all the babes decided to crawl from under their beds and fight back. At least seven of them were sprinting towards him. By the time Angus stood up, he started to grunt and snarl as the tiny leeches latched onto his body, longing for his blood.

Drulra couldn't attack, not without harming any of the babes. She tried to look for an opening, but all the young beasts were crowding Angus' body. The weasel swore and grunted, hopping around on one footpaw as he tried to shake a chubby otter from his right leg. He shook his head and screamed when a hogbabe bit down on his left ear, only to recoil and spit on the floor after realizing how unsanitary it was. Kleewyn was clinging to the weasel's back, holding his wooden sword as he reached up and bonked the beast in the back of his neck and head.

"GET! OFF!"

Angus jerked his head backwards, hitting Kleewyn in the nose and knocking him down. He lashed towards his left, knocking off another babe and nearly slicing one's paw off. Jamey glanced to his left and saw that the rat was still standing idly by, his arms folded as he watched Angus take on the young beasts himself. Jamey took a chance and stomped over towards him, snarling as he drove his dagger into his midriff. The rat shouted and shoved Jamey away, stumbling as he started to go for his cutlass. While all the fighting was going on, Morrvin was still hiding beneath his mattress, holding his head and shaking as tears rolled down his face. He had his ears covered, but he could still hear the muffled screams and shouts of all the babes and other beasts as they fought bravely. Morrvin wanted to come out and help, but his body wouldn't let him. He wanted to find some weapon to use against Angus and the other rat, but his paws were shaking too much. The molebabe slowly stuck his head from beneath the bed and looked left and right. He had a clear path leading to the door. Panting and desperate, Morrvin quickly crawled out from beneath his bed and sprinted for the door.

"Shit--MORRVIN! STAY INSIDE!" Drulra ordered.

Angus punched one of the babes off his arm before grabbing an otter by his ears and hurling him at the wall. He turned around and saw the small molebabe reaching up and quickly opening the door. Morrvin shouted when the rat Jamey was fighting collapsed beside him and immediately jumped outside. But the second he did, Morrvin regretted his decision. The chaos ensuing outside was much more bloody and graphic than it was inside. Morrvin had to back away when he saw one hare gurgling, choking on his own blood after an arrow was lodged into his throat. On his left were two hares clad in gray tunics taking turns as they fought side by side against the vermin. Somewhere not far off, he spotted a naked badger snarling and roaring, swinging his axe as he sliced vermin to pieces, their blood and bits of organs smeared across his body. The molebabe covered his ears and shut his eyes, sobbing as he prayed for all the madness and death to stop. He fell to his knees, oblivious to how perilous the scene was. Morrvin flinched when he felt warm fluids splashing against his body. He slowly opened his eyes and screamed as Ruches fell in front of him, her throat and face split in half. Morrvin whimpered and crawled backwards, only to hear a deep growl.

"Gonna getcha..."

Morrvin saw Angus standing behind him, his cutlass and dagger drawn. The molebabe got back up and started to run, panting as he began to gain some distance. Then the molebabe shouted and fell down as Angus' dagger found its way to his left leg. Morrvin whimpered and sobbed as the red blood flowed down his leg; he started to crawl, still hoping to gain some distance. Drulra jumped out of the building, panting as she tried to look for the young creature.

"MORRVIN!"

Drulra flashed her eyes to the right and finally found him. She started to chase after him and Angus, only to grunt and find herself fighting off a scruffy ferret who tackled her to the ground.

"Gonna getcha..."

Morrvin squealed as Angus finally reached him and kicked him in the abdomen. The small mole sniffled twice before Angus rolled him onto his back. Morrvin looked up at the wicked weasel as he grinned down at him and held his cutlass firmly.

"No...please don't..."

Angus didn't listen. The molebabe squealed as Angus sliced his cutlass at Morrvin, cutting his head in half. The weasel licked his drooling lips as he glanced down at the inside of Morrvin's skull and wagged his tail merrily.

"Gotcha."

The weasel looked over at the otter who had just finished fighting off the ferret on top of her. He could tell by her shocked face that she saw what just happened. Angus grinned at the otter before he kicked at Morrvin's corpse, rolling it around so she could see what was left of his brains. Then the weasel laughed as he ran off to go find more beasts to kill. Drulra didn't even feel like chasing after him. All the otter could do was stare at the molebabe's mutilated body as her limbs went limp. And then her vision blurred as her eyes welled with tears.

---

Urthquake was not having a good night. It was bad enough that he had his sodomy interrupted. It was even worse that the vermin decided to attack this community when it was most vulnerable. He still wanted to get back to sodomizing one of the otters, or at least having a good night's sleep. But there he was, standing beside a tree, drenched in blood from his own hares, as well as blood from that of the vermin. The panting badger rubbed some of the sweat from his eyes as he leaned against the tree, weary from some of the wounds he suffered. The badger shut his eyes and exhaled harshly. He knew it was going to get better. Maybe not soon, but eventually, this would all stop. The badger rubbed his forehead as he tried to block out all the noises around him. He tried to ignore the stinging stench of death and the various beasts whose bladders or bowels had voided after death. Urthquake exhaled again as he tried to picture that same image in his head again. Clear skies, sunny day, blooming flowers and trees, and an entire network of villages and communities filled with playful, jolly beasts who knew nothing about vermin or anything he had been through.

His daydream was ruined when somebeast latched onto his back and stabbed him in the back of the neck. Urthquake yowled and dropped his axe, panting as he stumbled forward. The badger yowled again as he was stabbed a second time, the blade nearly tearing through a few vital arteries. Urthquake snarled as he stood back up, shaking his entire body as he reached backwards and clawed at the vermin on his body. He walked backwards, sandwiching the assailant between his thick back and a tree. The beast shouted and loosened his grip, giving Urthquake enough time to grab the beast and hurl him forward. The beast grunted as he landed on the ground; Urthquake wheezed and started to feel blood running down his back. He was just about to grab his axe when he saw the beast on the ground and frowned.

"Sergeant Issarck?"

The chubby hare snorted as he gradually got up from the ground, panting and staring at the badger. He was holding two daggers in his paws, one of which was covered in blood. The two beasts stared at each other before Issarck scowled and spoke.

"You knew this was comin', sah."

"What are you talking about?! Why--"

"H'after all the shit we've done...h'after wot you made us do--made me do--you don't get the luxury of askin' me that."

"There are vermin all--"

"H'I'm aware, sah. An' that's the point. You were exhausted, tryin' to catch your breath. Then some vermin crept behind ya h'and stabbed ya in the neck several times."

Urthquake stared at the sergeant's stern face and growled. "So...that's it? It's that simple?"

"Like H'I said, you knew this was comin'."

"You're gonna kill me? You're gonna kill the Badger Lord of Salamandastron, all cause you're upset over shit that happened over a season ago?"

"No. H'I'm gonna slay a hatchling before it grows into an adder."

Issarck stomped towards Urthquake and tried to pounce on him again, but the badger still had quick reflexes. He snarled and grabbed the hare by his throat with one paw. Issarck gagged and dropped his daggers, reaching up to try and pry the beast's arm away. But it was no different than trying to move a tree from its roots. Urthquake growled viciously as he got in the hare's face.

"You've forgotten, haven't you? I'm not an adder, Issarck."

Issarck whimpered as the badger tightened his grip, causing a few bones to crack.

"I'm the beast that slays adders."

Issarck released a gurgled moan before Urthquake broke his neck in several places. His eyes became dull, and his mouth hung open as his head slowly lolled over with no bone structure to support it. Urthquake slammed the hare's body to the ground, gritting his teeth as he started to breathe heavily. He stared at the hare's body, blinking and slobbering. Then he shut his eyes for a moment and exhaled. When he opened them back up, he didn't see just Issarck's body. He saw dozens of bodies, all of them mutilated beyond recognition. Urthquake gasped and looked around. He smelled smoke, and the stench of the dead was so strong that he nearly retched. The badger blinked and gasped. All the bodies were gone, short of the dead sergeant lying near his footpaws. The badger heard more screaming and slicing, bodies falling to the ground, beasts gurgling and choking on their own blood. Urthquake started to shake, shuddering as he kept staring at the dead hare. He shut his eyes and heard more screaming, the sounds faint, echoing almost. He saw a brief glimpse of a tall hare having his head severed from his body. He could see vermin swarming two young hares, crowding around them before they brutally stabbed them to death.

The faint screams became louder and louder. The odor and scent of smoke was almost choking him. Urthquake whimpered as he kept his eyes closed. He took a few deep breaths and told himself to relax, but the screaming beasts and wailing hares wouldn't stop. He slowly lifted his paws and covered his ears, shaking his head. Somebeast was crying for help, but Urthquake grunted and kept shaking his head.

"Urthquake! URTHQUAKE!"

The badger grunted. "N-no...not real; it's not real."

Urthquake took a few steps back and backed up into a tree. When he opened his eyes, a dead hare fell in front of his face, her jaw missing and her throat cut open. Her body slowly rocked back and forth; whoever killed her had tied her footpaws to a branch in the tree and pushed her off. Urthquake whimpered and sat down, taking note of the bodies piling up around him. The badger shut his eyes again as he whined.

"Not real...not real...be quiet."

"Please..."

"Stop."

"Help us..."

"Be quiet."

Urthquake opened his eyes again. He looked to his left and saw a hare whimpering as he crawled towards him. He was missing the lower half of his body, his entrails hanging out as he dragged himself along the ground. Urthquake's eyes watered as he stared at the dying hare.

"Save us..."

"Be quiet...quiet...be quiet...just shut up..."

The badger didn't realize that he was whining, or that tears were running down his face. He was shaking uncontrollably, unable to figure out what was happening in his visions and in the present. Urthquake heard several loud thuds and looked up into the sky. It looked as though he was staring at a sea of blood, and hundreds of hares whose bodies were torn apart were falling down around him. Some were unrecognizable; others were missing limbs, eyeballs, ears, or even their copulatory organs.

"It's your fault..."

"Shut up," said the badger, his voice cracking.

"You let it happen..."

"SHUT UP!"

Urthquake was almost sobbing now, unable to stop the images and noises from flooding his brain. He held his ears shut again as he sniffled and felt more tears run down his cheeks.

"Leave me alone...th-this wasn't my fault."

Urthquake opened his eyes again and shouted. He saw a dark burly figure staring back at him, snorting out flames as it looked at him with dark eyes.

"You did this..." it said, in the same deep voice as before.

Urthquake blinked and everything suddenly went away. Sergeant Issarck was the only body in front of him. Tearmannians were still fighting the Red Sand tribe. The Badger Lord let another tear fall down his cheek before he felt fire consuming his insides. His eyes went from their natural blue color to a fiery crimson color. The badger let out a primal snarl as he leaped forward, crouching down beside his axe. He looked at the sergeant's body with disgust and kicked it away before he picked up his axe. Then the burly creature stood up and roared, ready to send more vermin to the Hellgates.

"EULALIAAAAAAAAAA!!!"