the Vermin Jig a collection of tales of Redwall
Summary: a collection of short stories about the vermin around Redwall, Mossflower and Salamandastron. Some are oneshots, others are a few chapters long...
Those who read and review get a flask of raspberry cordial:B
Disclaimer: As much as I would love to take credit for Brian Jaques' fantastic work, I can't...it all belongs to him. Except for the characters that you do not reconize.
Please review after reading...as I have tried to do the same with most of you.
All comments are accepted, positive and negative-but flames are not. If you don't like a certain aspect of this fanfic-or the whole thing-please state your reasons! Telling me that I suck isn't going to get me, or you anywhere. Even if you're getting revenge because you didn't like one of my reviews or something like that.
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the educated sea rat
Worbloe was a strange sort of sea rat.
He found the idea of pillaging detestable, he hated grog, he disliked sea shanties, and he feared the water. But that wasn't all that set him apart from his fellow vermin. It was something even more unbelievably scandalous. He liked to read and learn. For years, Worbloe's aquaintances had been calling him a flowery woodlander. Some of them even suggested that he was not a sea rat, but a giant ugly mouse. Now he was wandering Mossflower woods with two very stupid vermin.
"Oi! Wor! Why don't ye sing fer us!" Jeered the stoat who had a decidedly lopsided face.
"Yer," called out the other sea rat, "loik de mousy thing y'ar!"
Worbloe ignored them. He knew that he was no woodlander. He was quite capable of killing another beast. He just chose not to.
"Ah, let 'im be, ye know 'ow sensertive mousygirls are loik!"
"Grar har har! Good un!"
Worbloe picked his books up in a dignified manner and went to a more quiet location.
"Hey, where'd he get them books anyway?"
Worbloe looked through his books with a clear purpose in his mind. He took a few notes on a scrap of bark with a piece of charred wood.
He looked up every now and then to make sure that he wasn't being watched.
Sometime later, Worbloe finished what he was doing and got up. He rolled the piece of bark up and put it into his boot, and walked back to his imbicille companions.
"Start a small fire. Its nearly dark." he snapped at the pair.
The stoat looked up at Worbloe and said lazily, "Woi do we 'ave ter do wot ye say?"
Worbloe glowerd "You don't have to, but I will advise you to, if you want to eat."
"Well we ain't 'ungerd!" the stoat retorted.
"No, we ain't!" added the rat, his own stomach gurgling contrary to his words.
"Fine then. Enjoy yourselves in the cold, with empty stomachs." Worbloe said easily.
The two idiotic vermin exchanged a worried glance and quickly started to gather wood and stones to create a new fire. Worbloe could hardly keep from smirking. He walked off into the opposite direction that the others were going to find what he needed.
"Worbloe there 'as got some nerve." the stoat had been grumbling about the educated rat's know-all attitude.
"Oh, juss shuddup 'bout it! Yur gonner get us inter more trouble than we already's in!" whined the rat. He was nervous about the other rats calculating behavior of late.
"Gah! Wuts he gonner do? Throw a bouk at us? We could kill 'im in a minurte!"
"Yer, but, 'es got summat up 'is sleeve, I juss know et!"
"Pft! Stop yer complainin'! Alls that rat 'as got es bouk learnin'. Et means nuttin'."
Worbloe took the bark out of his boot and unrolled it. He was looking for herbs and spices to put into the meal for his companions.
He gatherd up tubers and roots, mashed up some of them with a motar and pestle and returned to the meager camp to prepare their final meal together. Worbloe ponderd how he would tell them. Or maybe he would say nothing at all. He would just leave in the night.
When Worbloe emerged from the bushes, the other two vermin quickly stopped talking. He acted as if he didn't notice their suspicious behaivour.
"I've got the food."
"Vittles! Yar! That's more loik et!" the rat exclaimed.
Warbloe refrained from laughing. "In this case, I'll call them victuals."
The stoat raised his eyebrows "Well then, always un up roight?"
"You could say that." the educated sea rat answerd simply.
Soon, the food was finished, and Worbloe served the stoat and rat.
The rat tucked in as soon as he got his portion.
"Wor 'bout yew?" the stoat asked suspiciously.
"I'll have what's left in the pot." Worbloe answerd expressionlessly.
The stoat regarded him for a minute before tentatively starting in himself.
Not less than 10 minutes after they had all eaten their fill, the rat collapsed on the ground, unable to breathe. The stoat jumped up and swore viciously, looking Worbloe straight in the eye. "Yew. Yer know bouks. fix 'im."
Worbloe looked at the rats body with out a single shred of emotion. "He seems to be convulsing." he said, his tone matching his expression as he watched the rat die.
Suddenly, the stoat started to choke and writhe as his comarade had done. Worbloe stood over him and stared, his eyes yeilding nothing but contempt and a strange red tinge.
The stoats eyes widened as the truth dawned on him. And with the new found knowlage, and one last convulsion the stoat followed his companion.
Worbloe stepped over the two dead beasts and started picking up his books, the pink tinge in his eyes fading.
He had always tried to avoid resorting to violence-but that didn't keep him from finding trickier means to kill other beasts.
After all, he was vermin.
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A/N:
This was my first fanfic! Could you tell? Probably.
I felt it was necesarry for Worbloe to end up killing his company somehow, it just seemed to make sence that he would use his education for evil.
Read and Review (and yes, I shall honor my promise and give you all raspberry cordial!)
- Wicked