Of Minks and Men Part 2

Continued from here http://rwmuck.limitless.org/rwmuck/content/minks-and-men

(more will be coming shortly.)

Some beast in the trees shouts, "To arms!" The minks scramble like mad beasts, grabbing whatever is handing to defend themselves. Some come out of their tree house cabins still buttoning their shirts and one even buckling their belt. It appears the bounty hunters have caught them off guard today.

The big badger watches as the wildcat clambers up the tree like a squirrel, raising an eyebrow as the a pair of minks head her way. "Sure thing kid." He replies before leaning against the nearest tree. He sticks his pipe into his muzzle and lights a match on his foot paw. After the pipe is lit he tosses the match away. "You go get em."

And then Slade simply...stays there, watching as a pair of minks rush forward to combat the climbing wildcat. The mink wearing a green pair of suspenders rushes across a bridge to the tree house the wildcat is climbing to while a second female mink wielding a hatchet rushes towards the tree house from a second bridge. The mink is wearing an iron breast plate and a pair of leather trousers, leaving much of her rather fleshy stomach exposed either on purpose, or simply because she only had time to grab the most vital piece of her armor before rushing into battle.

Russet grabs the edge of the small wooden walkway outside the treehouse with her left paw, trying to haul herself up to the platform. With her right paw she has her sword at the ready. This leaves her in a precarious position where she could be half hanging off the tree, but she manages to scramble up to the platform just as the two minks arrive. She sends a swift kick towards the mink in the green suspenders, intending to send him toppling over the side, but he's only pushed back a little bit as he nurses his stomach. Russet turns her attention away from him just in time to block a slash from the one with a hatchet. The metal clangs out from the impact, ringing in the wildcat's ears. With a grimace, she starts pushing towards the mink, hoping to throw her off balance.

The mink feels her back press against the rail of the platform. She desperately tries to push the wildcat off while her hatchet is locked with her blade. The wild cat though is much stronger. "A little help here?" The mink cries out.

Her comrade with the sword hisses in retaliation. Swinging his short sword with both paws he viciously swings the blade like a club towards the cat's back side.

As the three beasts battle the other minks begin to gather their wits together. Some are grabbing swords, some clubs, others are reaching for bows. All in total there are five other minks out and about, trying to arm themselves before rushing to their comrades' aid. One of the minks is a pure dark brown furred beast wearing a leather cuirass. The garment was obviously made for a beast must shorter than he is, perhaps a squirrel, and is worn like a sleeveless vest over a black tunic. He has an eye patch over his left eye and carries a claymore in his left paw. On his right paw there is a golden ring...

The wildcat hears the mink's movements, and pulls her sword away from the female mink. In fact, the mink's blade is now heading straight for his fellow bandit... Russet takes a few seconds to survey the rest of the enemy beasts. She notes their number, and contemplates how she can possibly thin out this many. Wait. Where is the badger? She glances down and notices him almost lounging next to a tree. She hisses, but has no time to do anything before she has to ready herself for the next attack.

The mink charges in like a feral beast, his wild swing missing the wildcat...but not his fellow mink.

The blade slices across the minks unprotected middle, slicing her fat belly open like a ripe water melon. She locks eyes with the mink, the look of shock etched onto her face matching her murderer's. One paw clutching at the rail behind her, the other desperately clutching at her belly as it spills out, the mink collapses to her side. spoof Slack jawed the other mink can only stare in shock at what he has done.

As he does two more minks rush across the bridge, this time both armed with swords, both dressed in patch work tunics, and rush to combat the invading wild cat. Their swings are just as wild and un trained as the first. To be fair their experience is fighting with defenseless travelers, not trained warriors. They make up this lack of skill however with ferocity and viciousness.

A very self-satisfied smile spreads over the wildcat's face as she watches the mink murder one of his own. She rushes to the stunned beast, taking advantage of his distraction to shove him towards the edge of the bridge again. Just as she's finished doing this, there are more minks coming down the bridge. Before she can even move, the wildcat feels a sharp pain in her right shoulder and a wetness that tells her one of the minks has cut her in one of the spaces between her armor. It's her sword arm, too, which is making it extremely painful to hack at the minks. She quickly backs away from the two minks, hoping if she has relatively solid footing on the area around the treehouse she can knock them off the narrower bridge. Her arm is obviously giving her some difficulty, but she slashes at the torso of the mink closest to her.

The mink makes a a paniced yelp as he falls through the railing. He didn't have long to contemplate the seriousness of his actions before he lost conciousness to the rapidly approaching earth. He remains where he lands, that is face first in the dirt with his back and feet arched awkwardly over his head. Slowly he rolls to the side and remains breathing, but still.

His brethern continue their assault quite effectively however. The minks leap back at the swing then press forward, one slashing high the other slashing low with a blade already stained by the wildcat's blood.

Slade, meanwhile, smokes away on his pipe, "Come on cat. Chop chop. We hav't all day gal!" As he speaks a mink wearing an otter hide vest slides down the tree opposite the field. He beats at his chest in anger before rushing across the feild with a dagger in paw. Rolling his eyes Slade responds by snapping his claws.

It's hard to say where exactly the beast comes from next, only that it appears out of the bushes, twirling a spear in paw. At first it looks like a red fox, but on closer inspection it is only a squirrel wearing the hide of a fox as a cape.

She meets the mink halfway before digging the tip of the spear into the earth. She pollvotes towards the mink, sending a flying kick strait into the minks muzzle. He recoils backward, clutching at his nose with both paws, "GAAAAAAAAAAH! 'ou 'roke mai nose! 'ou 'roke mai-" He let's out a pained gasp, lurching forward as the squirrel twirls the spear, then thrusts forward. The stone tip runs the mink through his abdomen and out the other end.

She pulls the spear free, twirls it again so its behind her, then begins to set out up the tree to help the wild cat until Slade whistles at her. "Hey, rule number 2. Don't go leapin into danger if der be other beasts willing to do it for ya, yeah?"

The squirrel looks cross at the badger, rolling her eyes, but stands still, planting the butt of her spear into the ground and watches the fight above ensue.

Unaware of the new beast below her, Russet continues the fight above. The armor across her chest is getting hacked rather badly by the minks, and they've already landed a few blows on her legs. The wildcat is vaguely aware of a much darker beast waiting on another one of the platforms. She, however, is occupied with the minks. She holds up her left arm, armored like the right, to shield her chest a little bit. It won't last for long, though, and so she continues stabbing at the two minks in front of her.

The minks make a flurry of motions with their blades. If only they would actually take the time to aim their blows properly instead of wildly swinging them about, they might actually do some damage. One mink crouches low, then springs forward, reaching with his blade to strike the cat in the head. Her sword hits first though, running him through the side of the chest and out the other end.

His death is instant.

The remaining mink uses this to the advantage, trying to strike at the wild cat while her blade is still in his friend. He is however...too slow and the next stab goes under his defense. He can only watch as the metal slides into his guts.

"What in tarnation is all that ruckus out thar?" Comes a loud shout. The weasel hide rug acting as a door for the tree house cabin behind the wild cat is pushed aside, revealing the head of another mink. He squints at her general direction, free paw clutching at a jug of whiskey. He raises an eye brow to the pained gasp his fellow mink makes, clutching at the blade still lodge in his tummy before he collapses to the side and falls off the tree walkway.

"Ah blazes..." The mink rubs at his eyes, tossing the jug away he disappears back into his home only to re appear a few moments later. He stoops as he steps out of the door way before standing to his full height. Scares crisscross his brown fur. He has muscle to his frame, and carries the flail in paw like a rag doll. The heavy ball at the end of the chain is spiked.

There is a loud whooshing noise as the flail twirls through the air, its wielder moving forward quickly with a look of annoyance rather than anger. The remaining two minks, the one with the eye patch and another with a bow and arrow, stand back, far back, away from the chaos that is about to ensue.

She takes a moment to catch her breath, panting, silently commending herself for the good blows. Nonetheless, danger still lurked behind her. A feeling of horror grows in her stomach as she hears a voice from behind her, and the sound of something swinging... She turns around, sword in front of her, and what she sees only deepens her fear. Luckily for her, the beast is sleepy and hasn't had any time to throw on armor, so she has some advantages there. "Badger, if you're going to help, now might be the best time!" she yells to the huge beast below. She cannot wait, however, and she dashes to the side of the mink away from his flail, with her sword aimed at his chest.

Offended the badger points with both paws at the mink slain by the squirrel. "I DID help lass. See? Killed one. Well...ok so mai assistant did, but that still fills mai end of the bargain!" As he speaks the leader of the bandit gang grunts with effort as he swings the flail where Russet has been. It breaks the wood asunder where it strikes bouncing up as it does. Using its momentum the mink yanks the flail upward, sparks fly as the chain hits the blade, pulling the spiked ball upward to meet it and deflecting it upward. The flail moves like a snake, flowing with the fluidity of a trained war beast. It swings around the minks head once, twice, before lashing out at the wildcat's armored chest...

What assistant? What was that badger getting at? The treacherous beast intended for Russet to do all the dirty work. Smart, but it was a good thing they weren't actually partners, or else Russet might be tempted to do to him what she'd done to those minks... She made an impressive leap to the right and saw the iron ball sail past her nose. Her sword swung again in an arc heading straight for the mink's chest.

The blade catches the chain as the flail flies by. This time it strikes it with enough force to break the chain. The ball continues sailing foreward, hitting the archer mink square in the chest and knocking her backward and over the rail. Her panicked wail is cut short with a loud CRUNCH as she hits the un forgiving earth.

The bandit leader only has a moment to comprehend this before the sword slices through his upper torso, all but cutting him in half.

The bandit falls to his knees. His mouth opens to utter some dramatic last words, or curse, but only a pained gurgle escapes his lips. He doubles over, paws still locked on the handle of his flail, eyes still wide in shock even long after he passes into the dark forrest.

"Well...dang." Slade whistles low. "See! You got this battle girl! An you thought you needed help!"

The remaining mink with the eye patch gulps and chitters in panic. He drops his clay more, shouting loudly, "I give! I give!" he says in terrified tone, "Please don't hurt me..." as he cowers with his tail pressed against the rail across the bridge.

The wildcat is panting, her heart still beating with adrenaline and fear. She has no breath to spare for the badger, although she would've liked to cuss him out. A pointed glare would have to do. She turned instead to the last mink, noticing for the first time the piece of jewelry on his paw. She still has something to retrieve for that marten. Russet points her sword at him, more for show than practicality at this point, and hisses, "Where did you get that ring on your finger, mink?"

The mink seems to cower in his corner. His paws quickly cover up the ring on his finger, "This...this is nothing! Why would you want to know about..." His eyes widen, then narrow. "That, that marten sent you, didn' he!" He threw his head back, clutching at his eyes with both paws, "I knew we shouldn'a ever taken that job! Now he sends his mercs to clean up the witnesses? That son of a...son of a woodlander!" The mink looks at the feline, a panic spreading over his face, "You... you can't...I won't let yoU!" He then turns for the rail behind him, quickly leaping onto it to jump off and to safety.

WHOOSH!

SpLoRk!

The mink wavers on the rail, his paws clutching at the spear patruding from his chest. "Glrk..." he manages to gurgle before he tumbles off the rail and into the dark forest below.

"Nice shot. You've been working on yer aim little one..." The badger fist bumps the squirrel.

The wildcat can barely register what the mink is saying before he is killed. She stares for a moment at the unfortunate beast. Russet looks down at his killer and sees what looks like a very diminutive fox. She frowns. First things first, though, and she needs to remove the ring from the mink. While she pockets the ring, she wonders if it's worth asking the marten about what that mink meant. She has a feeling there is way more to this than Liam told her. Right now, however, she wants to figure out who the newcomer is. Russet climbs back down the tree she came up on. After stalking over to the two of them and staring at the squirrel-fox for a good minute or so, she points to her and asks the badger, "Who is that?"

The squirrel growls at the wildcat's approach, or at least tries to in a way that doesn't sound like an angry chitter. "Complicated." Slade replies with a deep sigh, "Fox, can ya go pick up the other mink. I believe there is another survivor over thar..." The squirrel gives the badger a cross look before begrudgingly heading off to where the archer fell. She pauses to give the wild cat another growl before heading off into the bushes.

Rubbing his snout the badger replies in a quieter tone, "I call that one crazy act-ua-lly since she doesn' hava name. At de least not one she has told me. She is...just don't ask. Let's just be callin her my assistant in training. Not many of da beasts here in de woods care for my profession, or at least don't care to get involved in it much, so I am left with who ever I can scrounge from the bottom of the barrel." The badger crosses his arms, "Crazy as she is, she is useful. And YOU!" The badger gives the wildcat a wide bow, "You were magnificent. You ma'am are really the 'real' deal, yes? I don't suppose you are looking for a job eh?" He says hopefully, not even seemingly aware that he let her do all the hard work.

She gives him a withering look. "You'd have to pay me an awful lot to convince me to work with you," she hissed, "you lazy leech of a badger. Don't think I've ever met a woodlander so underhanded. At the very least you could've sent your crazed assistant up to help me." Her tail lashes. "How long has she been following us?" She shook her head. "Never mind. I couldn't work you."

The badger leans back, a look of innocence on his twice broken and poorly reset muzzle. "Well, to each their own." He says with a wide shrug. Over in the middle of the field the mink in green suspenders is finally starting to come too right about the same time the squirrel drags out a still concuss archer mink. The mink is bound hand and foot by rope and curses up a storm as she was dragged over. Depositing her like a sack of potatoes the squirrel pulled out a length of rope from her belt and began tieing up the second still living marten.

"This is about the time we part ways. You need anythin for dat bounty of yours?" Slade grins as he walks over to give a slain mink a kick in the boot. "I got what I want out of dis."

The wildcat shakes her head. "My employer just said he wanted his friend's property back, and I've gotten that. I would like to know why your friend over there is running around in a fox skin, but I'm sure it's none of my business." She is about to walk away, but something stops her. "Actually, you know what, there is something else." She lifts a paw and slugs the badger across the face.

The squirrel and the two minks all cringe as Slade spins on his heals, a tooth flying out of his slack jaw. He stumbles until finally falling upon his rump to stunned to get up, too stunned to make a reply. THe squirrel raises an eyebrow. "Dang." She says simply, then shrugs and goes back to tieing up the remaining marten.

"Well said..." The badger glares death and murder at the wild cat as he wipes blood from his muzzle.

The wildcat smirks at Slade. "You know, this was a pleasure after all. Thanks, friend," she says, adjusting the baldric across her torso. "Now I can say I've bested a badger. Have a good life." Russet turns and marches away proudly into the forest.

Picking himself up the badger dusts himself off. "Wiley one, she is." He spat.

The mink in the green overalls hissed as the bonds to his arms were tightened, "Let me go you sorry excuse for a squirrel! So help me I'll bite your arms off!" Still full of venting rage the mink turns to the badger, ears flat against his skull in anger, "Just you wait. It don't matter where you take us. Once I get out of jail...I'm coming for you..."

Slade glances towards the mink as if noticing him for the first time. With a wide toothed smile he bends down to one knee, resting his paw on the minks head, "Silly little mink. I'm not taking you to jail. Waste of money in that! Nah, I'm going to feed you up a bit and when I burn through the fortune of selling the hides of your fellow minks, I'm going to make a coat out of you!" He says cheerfully. Ruffling his head fur Slade stands up and moves away from the prisoners.

"Oh yeah?" calls the mink. "Is that the best you got? I've heard better threats from redwallers!"

The archer bound next to him watches the badger as he stalks off towards one of their slain comrades, "Buddy..." she says sourly, "I...don't think that was a threat..."

Slade setting his coat aside the badger begins the long and laborious task of rounding up the remaining minks...

_____________

Russet

This wildcat looks a little worse for the wear, in a dusty brown tunic and trousers. She carries a sword strapped to her back with a baldric. Her fur is gray and striped, and her eyes are a cutting green.

Slade

They say you can learn a lot about a beast from the way they keep up their appearance. One can only wonder what Slade's appearance speaks about him.

The beast has the common grey and white fur coloring of his species. Patches of dark grey fur line his eyes and circle around his cheeks and the chin of an snout that has been broken and reset improperly at least once. A tuft of fur hangs at his chin in the form of a small goatee. When he smiles it is clear that what teeth have not been knocked out are yellow from neglect.

Not losing out on the brutish figure that so many badgers have come to be known for Slade has a burly build to him. There is a good deal of muscle to his body as well as a good deal of meat, most accumulated around his stomach in a well rounded pot belly.

A green tunic hangs loosely from his chest. The shirt is sleeveless and has a deep, almost vest like, neck line that leaves most of his chest fur exposed. Belted over the tunic but under his stomach is an otter hide belt where a cutlass hangs without a proper scabbard.

A flat but wide brimmed hat adorns his head. The hat is made from leather of an unknown animal and wrinkled from age and water.