Redwall Isn't Safe Anymore! (Is Redwall as Safe as they Say it is? Part Two)

[Ashleg]

Laughing jeeringly, the ferret gave Petu's ear a good, hard tug.
"Ohhh! What a pity!" He sneered, "All you're getting is a nice hard slap from me if y' ever assume again."
Glancing over at Alfhild, Rapshade noticed that she was grinning.
Good.
Snatching a scone, the former pirate mused, "Wipe that stupid look off your face, Petu."

[Hickory]

Ignoring the comment, Rusk grabbed a piece of parchment and a quill. "Alright, well, these vermin are probably going to want something... meatier. Like a fish. Hasn't there been a trout in the Abbey pond for quite a few seasons now? That would do."

[Groddil]

The stoat with the axe growled as Bracklew's sword slashed against his side. The stoat ignored Roscoe, and swung his weapon towards Bracklew. Due to his injury, it missed by a mile, and the stoat dropped his axe in agony.
"Rrrrr, gonna... kill ye!"
Shank shoved a ferret armed with a club forward.
"Deal with the squirrel while Third-Eye shoots 'im."
A rat, safe behind the rest of the vermin, notched an arrow to bowstring as the ferret swung his club at Bracklew. Shank stared down at Roscoe with contempt.
"Yes, I believe that. You were Alfhild's spy, regardless of your contradicting stories. Of course, you just gave that away in front of a Woodlander. That's not what Alfhild would want. And as your superior, I sentence you to die."
Grinning, the weasel drew his sword and nudged Roscoe.
"You prefer to die kneeling, or standing, runt?"

[Ashleg]

Roscoe backed up into the center again, having been stopped by Shank.
"Wh-wha-what?" He laughed, poking the tip of the weasel's sword with a shaky paw.
"That's a s-sharp 'un ya got there! Erm..." He glanced at Bracklew pleadingly and got down on his knees.
"You're so skilled, Shank, I'm a waste of yer time. You--you're fit annuf ta be another leader of th' horde. I'm just that, just a runt...surely Chief wouldn't think much of ya if ya kill the runt? Kill the squirrel with the big sword, however, and we'll all chant yer name, sir. Lord. Lord Shank."

--

"Yes, but the pond is iced over." Grant hissed, pouring a few drinks.
"And our Aver is too injured to go fishing."
The Winter of the White Sky feels more like the Winter of Oh My.

[LT Sandpaw]

Far to busy to look at Roscoe, Bracklew preformed a quick backpedaled as the weasel's club whistled past where his head had been moments before. The young squirrel tightened his grip around the sword hilt, wishing he had both paws to add strength and speed to his swings. His heart beat like a drum in his chest, pounding out the notes from one of his lessons.

Keep on guard, remember your paw work, keep at it!

"You'll have to do better then that," Bracklew taunted, stabbing under the stoat's axe aiming towards the exposed armpit. "C'mon stoat, can't you best a one-pawed dibbun like me?" If he couldn't beat all four together, then maybe he could bait each one in turn into making a mistake. Hopefully Roscoe would survive until then.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Ouch," holding his ear tenderly Petu backed away from the table and out of Rapshade's abusive reach. "Sorry, it wont happen again." He wasn't even sure what he did, it seemed to him that the ferret just liked beating up on him.

[Ashleg]

Rapshade felt Alfhild's icy eyes boring into him.
With a glower, he added, "Better not."

Fang glanced over, smirking. "H-Hey Cap'n, betcha I can juggle this cup."

"Bet you can't. You're not that talented...Is it full?" The ferret blinked, baring his teeth.
"Petu has t' clean it if'n y--"
Splash!

Rapshade leapt to his paws, gaping as cordial dripped from his fur.
His eyes blazed.
"Run, y' little runt!"

[Groddil]

The fifth member of Shank's band, another ferret, kicked the stoat forward. The stoat spluttered as he was shoved directly onto Bracklew's sword. The ferret pushed the stoat further and further onto the blade until most of the weapon was stuck inside the poor creature. Grinning, the two ferrets lunged at Bracklew with their clubs as Third Eye aimed his bow.

Shank spat at Roscoe.
"Shuddup. I ain't no lord, an' Alf'ild ain't gonna be mad if I kill ye. She'll be mad if I don't. So I'm gonna. If yer one of us, yer a deserter. If yer not, ye can die anyway. I don't care."
The weasel held the point of the sword at Roscoe's neck.
"So what's it gonna be, runt? Standing, or kneelin'? I won't ask again."

[Ashleg]

Roscoe sat down, smirking nonchalantly.
"Not a lord, eh? You're not ambitious annuf. Whoever said I should stay still an let ya kill me? Bring me back t' Alfy an' then do it, she'll reward ya if she sees it."
He glanced at Bracklew and grimaced as the stoat died. Surely Alfhild would stick him like that, too...
"Y'know, Shank, mate, I always wanted ta die in my sleep...which wouldn't need me t' stand or kneel, would it..."

--

A pair of stoats sitting across the table began snickering.
Fang shrieked in laughter and tore away down the hall, leaving Rapshade to give chase as fast as his wounded leg would carry him.
"You'll rue that!" The ferret yowled. "You'll suffer for this!"

Fangfang turned and pelted up the stairs, racing to his room and locking it.
His heart beat so fast.
"Heheh, can't get in here, Cap'n!"

Rapshade twisted the doorknob.
"Y'did that's on purpose, didn't y'? That was no mistake!"

[LT Sandpaw]

Yelling in pain Bracklew deflected one cub with his left arm, but the second connected with his shoulder. The young squirrel tumbled back into the snow, rolling away as the arrow buried itself into the ground next to him. His sword was still stuck in the stoat and Bracklew was down and disarmed, seemingly helpless in the face of the vermin. As they drew closer he sprung into action, moving with all the speed of a squirrel.

"Yaagh!" Reaching out Bracklew grabbed the stoat's abandoned axe and hurled it towards the farthest ferret before jumping up and tackling the second one in a flying leap of red fur and snow.

[Groddil]

Bracklew's aim was true, and the axe thunked into one ferret's chest, causing him to drop like a stone. But when the squirrel tackled the second of his two assailants, causing them both to land in the snow, Third Eye simply chuckled. Now he didn't have to worry about hitting the others. The rat lowered his aim, loosing an arrow at Bracklew from only a few feet away. Shank, annoyed at how effective the squirrel was being at taking down his subordinates, withdrew his sword point from Roscoe's neck.
"Third Eye, keep an eye on the weasel. If he runs, shoot 'im."
The rat nodded.

[Ashleg]

"Whew, glad that's over." Roscoe breathed.
"Third Eye, mate, let me run an' I'll give ya a nice reward..."

--

"Maybe," Fang teased, pressing his weight on the door.
"If ya stop that I'll come out, I need t' talk, Cap'n."

He heard Rapshade back up and mutter a slew of curses.

Smiling awkwardly, the rat pushed the door open.
"I jus'...wanted t' ask ye a favor..."

--

Alfhild turned to Petu once the ferret and rat were gone.
"Now that they're off settling that, there's nothing to stop me from eating you."

[Hickory]

OOC: Groddil: beasts*

BIC:

Rusk buried his face in his hands. "I've never had to do this. Well, let's just throw something simple together. We don't need to be fancy with these creatures..."

[Groddil]

Third-Eye glared at Roscoe.
"Like what, runt?"

OOC: Sagetip: what*

[LT Sandpaw]

What was left of Bracklew's luck was melting away rather quickly. Throwing a few hefty punches with his stump paw the young squirrel tried to pin the ferret down, grinding his teeth together. He might have been slain, there and then, if he hadn't reached for the abandoned club that lay nearby.
Third Eye's arrow buzzed past burying itself into his lower footpaw. Arching his back Bracklew hissed in agony, tightening his grip on the club's handle and bringing it down on the ferret's head, once, twice, thrice!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Petu eyed her in disbelief, his ears now permanently droopy. "I - ah, why would you do that when there's all this perfectly good food? You wouldn't want to ruin your appetite, right?"

[Groddil]

While Bracklew was still distracted with the ferret, Shank walked up to the squirrel, sword in hand, and slashed at his unprotected back. Third-Eye kept one eye on Roscoe as he watched the proceedings, notching another arrow to his bowstring.