A Tale of Two Villainous Vulpine Villains ...or...What do the Bad Guys do on Their Day's Off?

From Redwall MUCK Wiki


Two Villainous Vermin Vulpine Villains walk into a bar...what could go wrong?

The term 'villain' is actually misleading actually. Just because the character is a villain doesn't actually mean they are inherently evil, they just do evil things...which is...evil...anyway. Villain character don't spend all their time coming up with plots to rob travelers, kidnap Redwallers, or raise up armies. Even bad guys need a day off to just chill and relax.

A chill draft blows through the Fang and Claw Tavern as the door swings open. Standing in the entry is a grey furred fox with fresh signs of the freak snow storm out still deposited about his shoulders and cap. The vulpine tracks in mud and water as he stumbles in making a bead line for the fire place.

A certain arctic fox's ear twitches as the door opens. The creature's head turns slightly to look at the newcomer silently, examining the other fox closely but making no other move to associate with him.

Vannon sighs in contentment as he warms himself in front of the fire. The fox turns around to warm his tail, casting his gaze about the room as he does. The tables and bar are all filled with travelerrs tonight...the unsavory type of travelers by the looks of it. He sees a gang of weasels off in the corner, each dressed in some kind of chain mail or carrying weapons of the 'walk up and stab you in the back' variety. A big and burly badger sits at the bar with a broad sword strapped to his back, eyeing the vermin around him, daring them to start a fight. And then there is the artic fox sitting by himself... Vannon shrugs, yeah, he is going to go sit there in repetitive safety. The fox walks across the room waving to the fox as he does, "Howdy stranger! This seat taken?"

Toran looks back at the other fox, who is a lot closer now, and sighs. "Aye, I suppose it is." He says, looking back the drink sitting in front of him on the counter. His thoughts are conflicted and he very honestly does not want to talk to anybeast, more so than usual. He is rather content to simply ignore the fox, but with his recent experience with the creatures in the south, that was likely going to be difficult.

Especially with this fox. Difficult does not even begin to explain how hard it is to ignore a beast such as Kydo Vannon. The grey furred vulpine sets his bow and quiver to the side of the table before plopping himself into a chair. He rubs his paws together, "Nasty weather we are having eh? I thought I was going to freeze my ears off out there. Brrrrrr!" he shivers, "Say what's good to eat around these parts? Do they serve wood pigeons here?"

Toran shrugs. "I'm new here myself. Best ask somebeast else." He says coldly. He doesn't seem to be in the mood for talking, but then again, he never is.

Which only spurns the grey furred fox into talking more. "I'm sure a waiter will be by shortly...honestly though I would hate to be the beast to serve the lot of these rascalions to night, am I right? Huh?" he pauses for a brief moment to let the other fox reply then interupts his own pause with, "Nice to meet a fellow fox out here by the way. I'm Kydo...Kydo Vannon, but you can call me Vannon if you want, although most people just call me , 'come back here you Rascal!' or 'You managing fox!' i'm not too picky about either or."

Toran nods slowly. "I'm Toran. Good to meet you Vannon." He says quietly. The fox is quickly turning out to not be much of a talker.

The grey furred fox smiles and wags his tail, "Nice to meet you as well Toran. My that is a funny name? Is it common where you come from or is it like, one of those self given names to convay some skill or quality you have and..." the fox is interupted when the pine marten waiter approaches the table. The brown furred beast is rather young and a bit well fed to say the least. The pudgy creature is also looks very nervous, having to serve the less than friendly looking beasts in the tavern tonight. "W-what can I get for you guys?"

Toran remains silent, not having come to the tavern for food. His answer comes in the form of the fox's head turning away with a quiet huff.

Vannon rubs his chin, "What do you have in meat..." After a brief discussion the fox orders a wood pigeon with a side of mashed potatoes and gravy, rice, a loaf of buttered garlic bread, and of course a pie to top it off. The marten nods his head as he writes this down then hurries off to the tell the cook. The fox licks his chops in anticipation of his upcoming meal.

Toran lets out a quiet sigh of relief now that the relentless talking had finally stopped. He felt as though his ears might've fallen off with the relentless prattling, but at least it was over for now...

Vannon leans back in his chair, one arm draped over the back. The fox kicks his feet up onto the table and he sits there for a long moment in silence. "So..where you from?" he says after a minute.

Toran sighs again, slightly louder. "I'm from the north," He says, though his tone suggests it's a bit of a touchy subject for him.

Vannon would press for details on the obviously touchy subject but the artic fox is saved by the arrival off food. Vannon's face lights up briefly before he digs into his avian meal. While greedily devouring everything in sight the gluttonous fox continues to yammer away, "So...Toran (COMP)(RIP) what brings... (CRUNCH) (GULP)(CRUNCH) you down...(SWALLOW) here to mossflower?"

Toran growls quietly. This fox was really starting to push his not so big reserve of patience. "I came down looking for work," He says, controlling his anger for now.

The grey fox chuckles as he eats. He picks up a leg of the bird, dips it in his potatoes and munches away at it. "That's neat! So did I? What do you do for a living?" he manages to say a complete sentence before resuming his feeding.

Toran looks sideways at Vannon. "Are you sure you want to know?" He asks, still cautious of what to make of the fox.

Gesturing with the half eaten pigeon wing the fox points to the table full of cut throat weasels, the large badger at the bar, the rat who's face is sketched on every wanted poster this side of mossflower. The list goes on. The only genuinely innocent looking beasts in the room are the family of fearful looking otters in the far corner trying their best not to be noticed by the villainous crew of misfits and bandits filling the tables tonight, "Don't worry, I'm sure what ever terrible deeds you do for a living will not offend this rabble tonight...unless its something truely embarrassing." The fox pauses for a second. Toran doesn't speak much and has white fur. Tiling his head to the side Vannon asks seriously, "You arn't a mime are you?"

Toran groans, putting his head down on the counter. Now he /really/ didn't feel like talking to anybeast. "No..." He say, his voice slightly muffled by the counter. "No I'm not."

Vannon chuckles, he pats the fox comfortingly on the shoulder, "It's ok mate. Being a mime is nothing to be ashamed about. It's an honest profession. Admittedly a little odd, but honorable none the less. Why the world would be a much better place if we had more mimes in it I think..." The fox pauses, "Say, I've always wondered, how do you get inside the invisible box if you can not see where it opens?"

Toran lifts his head and turns to stare at the fox. "Listen, I don't mind you sitting here, but I would appreciate you keeping to yourself. Otherwise, things might get unpleasant." His dangerous tone and hard stare suggests he is on the edge of his temper.

The offending fox leans back in his seat under the gaze of the angry artic fox. "Heh heh," (gulp) "Righto...I'll just...keep to myself and my meal then." Vannon turns back to his meal and begins to eat his meal in peace.

Toran looks back to his own drink, breathing a silent sigh of relief. Finally, the fox would leave him alone under pain of a very painful something to think about.

Some time passes. The only sound Vannon makes is the sound of his own greedy munching and eating. When finished with his meal Vannon leans back on his chair, feet propped up on the counter, the last few buttons of his vest left loose to accommodate the bulge of his swollen gut. If Vannon were a cat he would purr. Then, out of the blue Vannon asks, "So...have any family?"

Toran's eyes fly wide in sudden anger. That statement hit Toran hard and that was about all the would be hearing from the fox. With surprising quickness, the stands from his chair, whirling and slamming a fist into Vannon's jaw.

The gorged fox goes falling backwards in his chair, his hat slowly drifting down on top of his stunned face. All chatter in the room comes to an abrupt halt. Villains, vermin, rouges, scoundrels, and generally bad beasts all snap their heads around to the source of the commotion.

Toran takes a deep breath, struggling to calm himself down. "I said to shut your trap," He snaps at the fallen fox before abruptly returning to his seat and taking a swig of his beverage.

The offending fox merely sits there on the floor for a long while. Maybe passed out, maybe only stunned. The bar waits to see what will happen once he gets back up, eager for the excuse to have a bar fight."

Toran, for his part, simply finishes his drink and sighs contentedly, leaning back in his chair and enjoying the sweet sound of silence.

The fox tries to sit up but with so much food in his belly and a nagging pain to the side of his jaw he decides to call it a night where he is and promptly passes out where he lays. The other vermin and shrug and go back to their own drinks, somewhat disappointed by the lack of a fight. The pine marten waiter, who had been cowering behind the counter of the bar once the fox through the first punch, nervously pokes his head above the table. He stands up, brushing himself off before going back to work. Just another night at the Fang and Claw...