An Escape And Planing For More Takeovers

OOC NOTE: My character Zaram shows up further into the log, but I got the first part before that from logger as it was important and no one else had logged it at the time. I asked and they said it was ok to post it with my log ==

It's a quiet morning at the guard shack only because Bandit has run out of drinking song lyrics to sing. One can only sing "King Henry the 8th “ …so many times to annoy one's captors before it starts to effect the singer as well. So the obese fox sits in the corner now wearing only a sackcloth tunic and trousers, his tabard, chain mail, and boots all taken away from him. He may be still but the gears of his mind are moving, plotting, ever plotting his escape. It's all he has to do to distract himself from the bitter irony of being locked in his own cell.

While many of the more verminous vermin in this plane of existence have names that combine various unsavory traits into one intimidating label, like Longtooth or Gruffsnout, the guard watching Bandit's area has gone through life with a much less impressive moniker, Tom. Tom is an ermine, his pure white fur a bit on the dirty side, coloration he refers to as 'eggshell' among his friends. He's sat on a stool; his head leaned back against the wall, while a line of drool creeps from the corner of his mouth down towards his neck.

The fox can't tell if he is thankful for being given such inept guards or insulted. The temptation to ambush the possibly sleeping guard calls to fox like an open door to a chicken coop. Ok, perhaps the illustration doesn't quite fit but Bandit hasn't eaten since yesterday and he's hungry dang it!

But Bandit knows that it isn't the one guard he needs to worry about. It's the room full of guards beyond the cell block that has him worried. The guard shack isn't that big, hench the name guard 'shack'. So they designed the jail to have only one exit. HE designed the jail to have only one exit.

Still, the temptation to just reach ever so slightly through the bars and wrap his paws around the ermine’s neck is-

The temptation passes as a weasel stomps into the room. He is a lanky creature with his a scruffy beard growing along his chin, as much as a weasel can grow at least. He carries a flagon of mead in one paw and pauses next to the ermine, tilting his head this way and that before trying to kick the chair out from under him, "Fool idgit! What do you think you are doing?" The weasel hisses.

As the stool is kicked out from under him, Tom springs abruptly to life, with a strangled 'whozzat' and a garbled 'whatzit' before devolving into a storm of hacking and coughing as he chokes on his own spittle. Wheezing, he stumbles against the bars of Bandit's cell, eyes alternately forced wide and squeezed closed as he struggles to clear the airway. While his breath seems eager to exit, inhaling is a slow and seemingly laborious process. When he finally gets himself under control, the ermine straightens up, pounding on his chest with the back of his fist. "Uh, er. Yeh. I uh. Y'blame fool, coulda killed me!" With his back to the cell, he turns to confront his compan- coworker.

Unlike the ermine the weasel was blessed to have a proper Vermin name of Rot. Simply Rot. He loved his parents SO much. "Before or after the prisoner snapped your fool neck?" Rot grumbles, free paw resting on his belt as he gulps down a swig of mead. "Who, me?" The fox inside the cell says as innocently as he can. These days Bandit is looking more grizzled than cute and fluffy.

"Ah ye kin go shove yer tail up your nose ye daft fox. An /h'ue!/" He gestures to the ermine, "Go stand there and be useful or sumthan. Go on, git. And if I catch ye sleeping ag'in I'll tell Zurrgg. Have him roast ya and feed ya to his pet monitor. Where will ya be then eh? DEAD! Thar's where! Bloomin daft idgit." The weasel continues to grumble as he steals the ermine’s chair, dragging it loudly to the other end of the room and away from the cell.

"Wow he is a loud one." Bandit says, leaning against the cell with his arms through the bars. "A bit rude too...assuming you can understand half of what comes out of his mouth..."

Tom spends a few moments fuming impotently, knowing that an eggshell-colored ermine, scrawny and imp-like, has little chance in a fight against the big Rot and his Rotty Rottiness. "Well you're a proper git an' no mistake!" he whines, backing up against the bars, offering Bandit his final opportunity to snap his little chicken neck before slinking towards the door.

Well, if he insists. Thinks the fox. Such a thing would only really sate his burning anger for all things ZURRGG though, and probably get him killed by the second guard. Or worse caught, again. Bandit has no illusions about surviving a second run in with Zurrgg.

Then again, how much longer before Zurrgg decides to Bandit isn't worth keeping alive?

It's the last thought that prompts the fox to leap against the cell, trying to wrap his paw around the ermine’s neck and pull him back hard against the bars. It's not intended to do more than make some noise and knock the wind out of the guard, and also let his free paw try and reach for one of Tom's knives..."Should have listened to old Weasel breath there friend."

Standing there for far too long like a total fool, Tom's knife is probably pilfered well before he actually moves towards the door. "Fine, 'm goin', but don't expect no favors later!" Huff.

The fox only cackles, as one of his own prisoners would. That's right, just a fox beating against his bonds, nothing to see here. "That's right! Run. Run home to mommy you cowardly little git." Still leaning against the bars the fox turns to the weasel who is now on his feet from the fox trying to grab the ermine. "How about you, Rot, right? You going to be foolish enough to come close too? No, no, you are too smart for that. You are going to stay well and far away from my little cell. No matter. I wouldn't want your ugly mug too close anyway, just like your mum probably."

The weasel doesn't so much reply as crack his neck and growl in anger. His paw over the hilt of his dagger tightening ever so slightly.

Just outside the door, Tom has stopped to fume over this latest turn of events. First Zurrgg takes over the town and he loses his cushy job doing /nothing,/ then he has to actually /guard/ something, and /now/ Rot is being even more of a rotter than usual. Then something else strikes him as odd. Something feels just... off. He starts patting himself trying to figure out what it is, checking his pockets habitually before realizing a knife is missing. A knife is missing. "Not good."

It's not missing, Bandit knows exactly where the knife is, and now, so does Rot. There is a brief sound of scuffling beyond the door accompanied by a muffled gasp, barely audible through the wood to anyone else in the room but Tom. Of the few other newly appointed guards a larger, fit looking black furred 'silver' fox glances up from his desk on the other side of the room. "Is there a problem Tom?"

"Uhhhhhh." Tom debates how to answer that question, chewing on his lower lip with a snugly fang. "...no. There's no problems, no," he chuckles, scratching at the back of his neck as he heads for the next door. "Just gettin' some air, ol' Rot got me covered in there, y'know ol' Rot, how he is."

"Rot's a un trust worthy git and quite possibly insane." The silver fox growls, "Get your arse back in there and do your job before..." The fox comes to a pause as the door to the cells swings open ever so slowly. There in the door way is the image of a gore splattered swift fox holding a pair of bloody knifes. "I came here to eat pancakes and kick tail...and I’m all outa pancakes." Bandit tips his head towards the silver fox, "And your sitting in my chair..."

Tom /stares./ Then Tom /spits./ He spits directly at the silver fox.

It certainly causes the silver fox to pause. Blade half drawn the vulpine wipe bile off of his face, "Dude! What the..." is as far as the fox gets Rot's dagger finds itself buried into his chest. He yelps loudly in pain as Bandit goes to work on the nearest guard. The ferret swings his broad sword at the Head Guard. Bandit catches the ferret's sword arm mid swing and then violently dispatches him with Tom's knife. A moment later Bandit defies expectation about how quickly the obese fox can move by leaping at the distracted silver fox. A moment of frenzied stabbing, slashing and general list of things that are best left to the imagination ensues. After the dirty deep is done Bandit plucks the sword free of his fell vulpine innards and swivels his head towards Tom...

...who stands there, blinking back at the fox, with his spear held lightly in his paw. "Well, that, er. That escalated. Quickly, uh, yeh. I'm Tom, as y' might've... well, y' prob'ly didn't 'ear, but well. I'm Tom." The ermine grins sheepishly, beginning to dare to hope that he might survive this encounter.

The fox slowly straitens himself out. His calm and placid expression begins to deform as his muzzle breaks into a wide toothed cheshire like grin. He begins to step forward as the ermine tries to talk his way out of joining his comrades. "Hello Tom." Bandit says. He continues to advance on the ermine sword tapping against the wood of the wall, "Thanks for the help by the way. That was...well, that was something else alright. Is there anyone else outside?"

"Yeh, that was sure somethin'," Tom agrees hastily, with a nervous swallow. "Somethin' else!" he adds, skittishly glancing toward the door. Can someone /leave/ so he doesn't die? "Uhhhh. I always liked you, y'know, back when th' ol' boss was in charge." Brown-nosing, an essential skill.

"Oh really? Well it sure is nice to be appreciated." The fox cackles more than laughs. It's been a long day, he's tired, he's hungry, and all of the few friends he has left have been brutally murdered in front of him the other day. He's entitled to being a little unhinged at the moment. "Since you have been so kind in stabbing your team mates in the back, perhaps you can pass Zurrgg a message after I'm gone." The fox, without warning makes the final leap towards the Ermine, driving the sword home into the wall behind Tom and narrowly missing his head with the bade. Now up close and face to face Bandit practically snarls, "I'm done taking prisoners." With his free paw he thrusts the knife towards the ermines stomach, "Thanks for the knife though, you can have it back now."

The knife buries itself, if shallowly, into Tom's belly. Luckily for him, the knives he happened to carry are just a bit too short to reach too deep any organs, and he's kept them much too dull to be excessively good at cutting, so he just ends up with a blade buried in his belly and lots of blood leaking out around it. Better than dead! Although Tom doesn't realize any of these facts, and only the fact that he's been stabbed seems pressing. With a shriek, he flails his spear at the fox, stumbling back against the wall, clutching at the handle of the knife. "You, you you filthy fox!"

It's presumable that a beast that takes such good care of his knives would spend just as much time in learning how to use the spear as well. The fox catches the spear with his now free paw, just as it begins to cut into his shoulder. He grits his teeth and then tries to push the spear back, sending the side of the pole arm into the muzzle of the ermine in an effort to knock him out. "I never did like brown snout-ers..."

The spear catches poor Tom directly in the side of the head, and the bleeding ermine collapses to the floor in a heap. A bloom of red spreads steadily over his eggshell fur.

The fox waits for the ermine to get back up. When he doesn't he turns back to the guard shack. If the ermine lives at least now he can claim he fought back instead of just standing their letting his team get killed. It's all the reward Bandit will give him for helping him.

The fox disappears into his office, reemerging a moment later with his spare shirt of chain mail and Krulls Krudgel, a massive metal club he took as a prize from a badger with the same name. He takes another moment to take in the guard shack one last time, just in case it really is before stepping outside.

Bandit has left the building...

Since Bandit's escape and the massacre earlier that day, no one has checked up on the guard shack. And so it is that a mysterious figure, clad in a dark green cloak, the hood drawn up around his head, slinks through the underbrush around the shack and steals quietly through the door. Within is a scene of carnage, dead guards slumped on the desks, against the walls, sprawled out on the floor. The figure makes a tutting sound, shaking his head as he proceeds towards the cells in the back, only to find them empty. It stands, regarding the cells quietly for a few moments, before lashing out to grab a handy club and clash it, full of frustration, against the bars.

The noise would gather the attention of the guards, if any were left alive to complain. Bandit is many things, gluttonous, out of shape and can't sing polka to save his life but he is if nothing else efficient at stabbing and slashing his way through beasts.

The dying light of the setting sun however beckons the guard change soon, and Inkpaw. The vixen walks through the streets, stumbling occasionally back and forth as she makes an unsteady line for the guard shack. She is a brown furred beast with an orange V shaped vest over her red tunic. A sliver of her waist can be seen between the shirt and belt, a product of over indulgence at the tavern after Zurrgg's victory rather than a fashion statement.

Steadying herself with one paw against the shacks wall the vixen smiles at the thought of gloating in front of the Head Guard that banished her. Oh the words she has instore for him! She is a mere ten feet away from the front door to the shack now.

Inside, the figure is still fuming in front of the empty cells, tossing the club down to the floorboards, fists clenched at its sides. "The fox was /supposed to be here,/" a voice hisses, a smooth baritone. A booted foot kicks Bandit's former cell open, letting it swing shut again with a clang. "Gone. Shurd it all."

"How do you like the taste of your own jail house food fatso!" The vixen says outside. She rubs her chin then shakes her head, "I spy with my little eye a...uh...not so...little fox, gah, no. Guess who's bAAaaAAaaack." The vixen sighs. In the end she shrugs, opening the door as she does, "Eh, I'll just wing it. I wonder if they have any tomato's to toss at hiEEP!" She steps in and immediately trips over the foot of the silver fox. "I'll sue!" She shouts out of pure instinct, "Oh all the nerve! Who in the bleeding blasted blazes is leaving junk just lying about the floor! Don't you know that's a tripping hazard? So help me I'll take you to court and-" This is the part where Inkpaw realizes that she is talking to the corpse of her fellow vulpine. Her mouth runs slack and a silent scream escapes her lips.

The sound of the door draws the hooded figure's attention, and the dark area concealing his face turns toward the fox as she enters. Generally that's his cue to exit stage right, but there's only one door, and she's standing in it. Her look of abject horror seems to imply he might be able to talk his way out of this. Before she notices him, he shirks off his bow and arrows and slips into Bandit's cell, quickly getting down to huddle in the corner, where he pulls his hood back to reveal the squirrely features of his face and begins to whimper.

Paws clutched about her muzzle the terrified fox swivels her head towards the sound of whimpering. Inkpaw prizes using her wits to get out of trouble rather than resorting to weapons, but tonight she wishes she would have preferred to actually be armed. Picking up a fallen sword belonging to the deceased fox guard the vixen steps closer to the cells, "H-hello? Is anyone there? Anyone not dead?" She creeps closer, daring to peek inside, holding the sword in such a way that shows she clearly has no idea how to use it.

Her inexperienced stance betrays her, and Aidan decides against rushing her for fear of causing wild, unpredictable action. "Oh! Oh, salvation!" he weeps, from the corner of the cell, staggering unsteadily to his feet and flinging himself against the bars, clutching them tightly. "Oh, help me, help me, he killed them, he killed them all, /help me./"

The fox jumps, flailing the blade about in panic with her eyes closed, "GAaAaaAAAaAaAAhhHH!" The sword clings once against the bars where it gets stuck. "For the love of all that is holy are you trying to give me a heart attack?" The vixen nearly doubles over, paw against the bars and breathing deeply. "What happened, who killed all these people? WHO ARE /YOU/?"

"It was the fox, the Bandit, Bandit!" Aidan explains hysterically, sinking back down to the floor. "He killed them! He killed them and trapped me in here!"

Despite the gruesome scene before her the vixen has to raise an eyebrow, "Bandit? Surely you mean a bandit and not the tubby comical fox, right? There...there is no way we are talking about the same Bandit." She then tilts her head to one side, "Are you with the guards or..."

"The very same!" Aidan crawls his way back up the bars to look the fox in the eye, his sincere plea for help written all over his face. "I was brought in to answer some questions about the area, and Redwall, for Zurrgg, the wildcat what's taken over the town. He- Bandit, he didn't like it! He got out somehow and then he killed them and put me in here!"

"You don't say." The vixen rubs at her chin, giving the slain corpse of Rot a kick to the side. Yep, he's dead, as if the hole in his chest wasn't indication enough. "You're an informant? Oh hey! So am I!" The fox says happily, mostly in comfort for finding a fellow coworker here. "Here, I'll let you out. Why did he even let you live?" She bends down, taking the keys from the weasel's belt and using them to open the doors.

"He said he just wanted someone to suffer the way he did," Aidan explains, making his way carefully into the main area of the guard shack. He grabs up the quiver and the bow strapped to it, slinging it over his shoulder. "I should have known not to get involved," he continues, moving around behind the fox until suddenly he moves to loop an arm around her neck and press a blade to her throat. "...keep very still."

"Huh, I never knew him to be so viiiiEEEEEEEEEEEEEE..." Inkpaw lets out a panicked eep. "W-what are you doing? I'm on your side!" Until she realizes that he is not. "You don't even work for Zurrgg do you?" The vixen whimpers.

"That oaf?" Aidan laughs, the blade of his knife a razor's edge against her skin as he backpedals towards the cell, pulling the door open with his foot and shoving her inside. This time he turns the latch. "Of course not. And I'll have you know I'm very upset that my prize isn't here. All you had to do was hold him for a few days, but you lot are too incompetent even for that." The squirrel glances around the room thoughtfully, shoving a table over on its side at an angle, then teeters the keys on the edge so that eventually they might tip off and skitter down to the fox. "Have a nice stay!" And with that he's off through the door, leaving her to rot with Rot.

"No! Don't leave meeeeeeee!" The fox's paw shoots out of the bars. After the beast leaves her behind Inkpaw hisses, pulling at her ears and shouting, "NOT AGAIN!" Blast it, what will she tell Zurrgg?

The bodies by now have been cleared away from the Ferravale jail. The blood spilled was cleaned but still showed up as stains on the floor where the guards fell. There were more beasts here now even after Bandit's escape, but only one beast remains in a cell.

Like Bandit Inkpaw is a brown furred fox, and like Bandit she let her diet get the better of her but not nearly to the degree of the obese head guard. The vixen sits in the cell shouting to the door, "You go get Ripfang or...Ripclaw or whatever his name is! You go get Zurrgg! He'll tell you who I am! I don't belong in here! I'm innocent...enough...I tell you!" She's been at it for a while now.

Zurrgg comes in about this time, his ears back and a growl to his voice, "I don't care ya find it ad you shoot it out of th bloody sky!" The marten gulps and rushes off to find some archers. The wildcat's face looks horrible or least most of the left side does. 3 talon marks through his eye, and onto his snout and chin. He cape and tunic he wears is blood stained and torn.

The vixen's muzzle snaps shut. "Z-zurrgg! I uh, had no idea they would actually go get you." She chuckles, nervously. A very tall and rather lanky rat with a leather eye patch approaches the room from behind. "Sah." He salutes. "The guard shack was like this since yesterday. There are at least 3 dead and the old head guard escaped. The only witness we found alive was this fox here who calms she knows Ripfang. We would have told you sooner but...well...the whole...bird...thing. Anyway. The morning watch came in and found her here, locked in the head guard’s cell."

Zaram tried to do some spying and gather some personal things that was left in Ferravale and failed, he is now a new captive as a couple rats bring him into the guard shack and await orders.

Zurrgg narrows his eyes, "This is my town....the fat fox escaped how?!!!" His tail wags behind him as he growls and looks around the room. He then stats to chuckle and looks as the bring the mole in "Ohhhhhh if it isn't Marek's personal assistant, my day gets better and better..course the eagle interrupted part of it but hey one less stripe dog around" Or so he thinks.

Right, just focus on the mole, thinks Inkpaw grateful that the wildcat’s ire is directed at someone else. "I...heh heh. I'm not sure how he escaped. Everyone was kind of /dead/ when I got here." She taps two claws together, "I work for Ripfang by the way! Oi! Yes. He hired me to scout out the town before your, uh, aggressive change in leadership."

Zurrgg smiles coldly as he walks up to the cell "Then I see it this way, ya work for me now or I watch the life light fade from your eyes . Ripfang is dead...not too worried I have other dangerous beasts..skilled beasts who follow me. I own more land now and soon the abbey as well"

Zaram frowns "You are notta going to get the abbey zurr and yoi will be stopped" He may be a mole but he doesn’t fully slip into the speech unless he is nervous, like he is now. The two rats place him in a cell and lock the door.

The vixen continues to chuckle despite the nervous twitch of her eye. "Right you are boss! If you can't do it no one can!" She says quite happily despite the dread growing in the pit of her belly. It was becoming quite evident that her new boss might be a teensy bit mad, and a little blood thirsty. But it was possibly just the pain of being attacked by whatever redecorated his face and...did he mention taking over Redwall? Nope, he was mad. Mad as a hatter. And Inkpaw was suddenly very, very glad there were iron bars between them.

Almost made her not ask to be released. Almost. "I don't, I don't suppose someone can let me out...er, when able too?"

Zurrgg rolls his eyes and smirks, he walks over to the mole ”So I heard Marek is still alive, that so?”

Zaram frowns “Why would I answer you fer ya vermint”

Zurrgg places her paws behind his back “Cause I told you to, I killed a beast..more than one, for not answering a simple question”

Zaram shrugs “I honestly not bio knowing zurr. Sir Marek could be anywhere.”

Zurrgg growls and slams his fist into the wall and goes to sit at a desk ”Kolur!”

Kolur, his new head guard, comes out “Umm…yes sir? Ya wanted something?”

Zurrgg nods “Yes I want Marek found and slayed, I want his head to mount on my new office wall.”

Zaram frowns and sits on the cot in the cell, he can only hope Marek is hiding well as he truly and honestly has no clue where the stoat is.

Kolur nods “Well I can have some of the better fights do that right now!” He walks out and picks a couple foxes and a marten and looks at the mole .”Boss needs looked at, you know healing?”

Zaram doesn’t reply “And if I refuse?”

Zurrgg growls “Ya die! And YOUR head is on my wall!” He for a rat to get him out of the cell.

The mole nods and tends to the talon marks best he can, they do have herbs from the infirm after all and some bandaging can be done, not too much though ”This will scar…badly and you may lose the left eye” He frowns and its clear he rather not help the wildcat, but he does, he gf his own herbs also and steps back “Th..there”

Kolur makes sure the mole is placed back in the cell and locks it, he turns to Zurrgg ”Any other orders Chieftain Zurrgg?”

Zurrgg stands “Yes a meeting in my office in one hour, we are going to discuss the abbey and how to claim it as our own. We can start by cutting off any traders coming there. Some of that was from here its part way done.” He looks at some papers “Any other news Kolur?"

Zaram sighs from his cell, this is not a good day for him.

Kolur nods “We did capture a hedgehog with some cloth and spices and some candles on the way to that abbey, sadly he was killed since he tried to fight back, he and his mate sir…and the supplies we have now”

Zurrgg nods “Good..good…I control the north bridge, I control Ferravale…I control the dirt road to just a little past that Black Gull..sadly not the Gull but I could care less of some simple tavern. I even control a small area of the woods around my new village”

Kolur nods “Very Very good sir…good indeed!”

Zurrgg nods and starts to prepare for his meeting..on war…

Zaram frowns as he listens. He rolls over to face the wall and soon falls asleep.