Shade and Syzax
The big fox hauled himself through the near waist deep snow. The air was cold. Hiscrew was colder. Behind him stood his wife and their newborn son, Syzax Firetail. Plugg Firetail sniffed the air and sighed, signaling to his Freebooters with his axe.
"We'll camp here tonight," he told them when he had found a wide cave.
The Freebooters were down on their luck. Their ships thrashed and torn apart in a gale, they had come to rest in the southernmost part of Mossflower, past even Southsward, near the mountain Liyarthin, where Badger Lord Leythin of Southsward ruled. Plugg and the beast he called his wife, a pretty young vixen named Bloodpetal Firetail, stood cradling their son Syzax. His weapon to be, a staff with a curving spear blade on either end, stood to one side.
Their second in command, a weasel called Slitty, slunk up, whispering to the two, "We don't have enough vittles to keep us alive, let alone the whelps we captured." He motioned to a group of bankvoles, mice, and hedgehogs.
Plugg sighed and motioned around with his axehead that a group should go foraging. Slitty took twoscore of the gathered Freebooters and headed into the deep snow.
Bloodpetal cooed affectionately at Syzax. "One day, you will command a horde greater than your father."
The young dogfox was already vicious. He lashed out with tiny claws at anybeast that ventured too near. He had blood red eyes and gray white fur. He gave a foolish grin. His time would come!
In the great mountain Liyarthin, over thirty leagues from where the Freebooters were gathered, a similar event was underway. A leveret had just been born to a harewife whose husband had been slain against the armies of the Northlands. The hare was pitch black, with no sheen whatsoever to his fur. It seemed as if he had been rolled in charcoal before his birth, and his eyes were deep, dark brown.
The male hare, Treyin, stood over the odd colored hare and nodded. The harewife next to him holding the leveret, named Runh, clucked at the little hare.
"Have you thought of a name for the little blighter?" Treyin asked her.
She nodded and tickled the leveret's chin. She said without looking up, "Yes, I have called him Shade Darkleg."
A deep voice growled out behind them, "A good name for a soon to be hare warrior."
Leythin of Southsward thundered up behind them, his huge war scythe over one shoulder. Runh smiled at the Badger Lord of Liyarthin, offering Shade's carrying sling to him. He picked up the tiny affair in his big blunt claws, rocking the babe to sleep.
"He will one day find a way to rid all of Mossflower from vermin. I can tell by the look in his eyes!"
As the earth turned and seasons ran together, Plugg Firetail ventured ever closer to Liyarthin. His Freebooters were horribly down on numbers, including his wife, Bloodpetal, who had been slain in a fierce battle against the otter guard of the castle of Southsward. All that was left was him, Slitty, whose proper title was Slitfang, a female weasel named Tazzin, Syzax, and a few young searats born just before the battle named Scratch, Grit, and Spit. There was another member of the band who had joined them in the fight at Southsward Castle. The battle had left Southsward Castle still standing and Plugg completely disheartened. He gathered his few remaining warriors and left.
It was a short, muscular weasel, dubbed Rotface. He had been struck by an adder on the left side of his face and miraculously survived. That side of his face drooped horribly and the eye bulged from its socket, red and yellow. For his weapons, he cut the skin off his paws and attached enemy bones to his knuckles, allowing them to grow to his own bones. He was a fierce fighter and had slain over a score of otters in the battle. His mate, a white ferret once belonging to a Pure Ferret family of Riftgard, followed him everywhere.
This beast's name was Sharkson, and his teeth were needle sharp and serrated on both edges. Whether by file or natural design, no one knew. He also carried a long handled battle mace and had only half a tail. His eyes were a bright pink, as were his paws and nose. He lugged along behind Rotface, exhausted after the season long battle with Southsward.
"Shoulda stayed on Riftgard wit me ould mother and her brother Sarengo. Hellsteeth! This is a bad lot we threw in with, eh, Rotty?" The ferret complained.
Syzax slunk up behind him, saying matter-of-factly, "If you would have, you woulda been slain with the rest of your dithering family. Now shut up and follow Plugg."
Plugg looked back fondly at his son. The three season old dogfox was a huge creature, almost the size of a badger, and his double spear weighed nothing to him. He wore only a finely woven cloak and a pair of baggy black pants. His red eyes shone with the intelligence, ferocity, and ingenuity that only a fox could possess. Plugg, unlike most other vermin fathers, was very close to his son, and the Freebooters knew that.
Tazzin wandered alongside of Slitfang, conversing in low tones, Tazzin's now squeaky, pained voice more audible that Slitfang's but they spoke so low that not even Syzax could hear them. The two foxes didn't care; the two were the most trusted of all the horde Plugg had once commanded. The three rat brothers were constantly kept close to Plugg and Syzax just wandered wherever he wanted to. Plugg signaled to Tazzin and she crept up behind him.
"Take Syzax, Sharkson, and Rotface, scout the area. Keep your daggers close by, matey."
Tazzin gave a swift nod, and gathered the three. Syzax was last to disappear from sight. He waved to his father, then he was gone.
Slitfang and the three rats Scratch, Grit, and Spit looked to Plugg for further instructions. He took off his battered jacket and rolled it into a pillow, lying his head on it.
"Get some sleep, you four. You need it." And with that, Plugg Firetail was asleep.
Slitfang was last to sleep. He watched as Spit first fell over in sleep, then Scratch. Last to be taken by sleep was Grit. The oldest of the three was glaring at Slitfang with his one good eye. Slitfang's paw strayed near his cutlass handle. Grit finally fell asleep as Slitfang leaned against the tree, keeping watch until the foragers came back.
It was late dawn when Tazzin and Syzax found the trail back. The two had had to run off after Sharkson and Rotface after the two had smelled a cooking fire. They were fortunate however, to find a family of voles huddled around, cooking dace and trout. The voles were tied up, four fish out of ten eaten, and the four had tramped off to find their path back to camp.
Tazzin motioned to Syzax and he slumped down while she made signals with her paws. In the battle, she had had her throat slashed horribly but somehow survived, robbed of speech. Only Syzax and Plugg knew the meanings of her symbols, and she could only mutter in squeaked tones when she had a fully wet throat. She only spoke to Slitfang, and he had a hard time understanding her, often offering her water and making her repeat herself.
Syzax nodded and looked at the two behind him, yelling loudly, "Found the trail, buckoes! Let's go."
They followed the trail for an hour or two, then smelled blood. Rat and weasel blood. Tazzin drew her throwing knife, Syzax tested his spear edges and Rotface clicked his tongue as he readied his claws. Sharkson clacked his teeth and drew his mace. They crept closer and saw the three rats, Grit, Spit and Scratch slain, Slitfang lying nearby, slumped against a tree and Plugg with a slingstone knocked against his head.
"Father, what happened?" Syzax asked frantically as he poured water over his father's face.
Tazzin tended to Slitfang, thankful the weasel was still alive. She looked at his back and was shocked to see about a score or so long gashes. Slitfang winced.
"Black hare. Only one. He had a javelin, metal staved with a lizard skull on the tip. Snake's fang for the blade," he gasped out. "Two huge sickles, threw em like daggers, 'e did. A hiltless sword. Northland dirk. He was insane!"
"He killed three searats, knocked out my father, and tore your back apart?" Syzax questioned the weasel, unable to believe that.
"Aye, matey. Came outta nowhere, threw the rock against yore old pops' head, threw his sickles and pulled his dirk and sword on me. Couldn't even get the idiot with me cutlass."
"That only accounts for four. What about that one?" Sharkson asked, indicating Grit, who was pierce with needle like holes.
"The javelin. Adder fang blade. The beast was insane, I tell yer!"
Tazzin looked up from the bandage and nodded to Syzax, who sighed with relief.
"Tazzin says you'll live, weasel. Though I don't see how. That hare got yer pretty good back there, matey."
Tazzin then went to see to Plugg. The fox nodded gratefully. He refused the weasel's offer of her share of food and water and made the whole crew eat their share. The gathered voles were astounded with his respect for his crew.
"What are they doing here?" he asked, indicating the voles.
Syzax was about to answer when Rotface clambered out of the brush, saying victoriously, "We caught dem fer to eat, might'ness."
Plugg sighed and beckoned Tazzin to bring the voles over. She obliged and Plugg's axe swung down in a swift arc.
Thunk!
The voles were terrified as the ropes fell away from them, until the fox waved them away. They shook their heads in disbelief.
"I said go, mateys. I don't wants ter see no more death around here. I heard of a mountain northwest o' here. You knows it?"
A fat little vole piped up, "I knows it. I take ya dere!"
Plugg raised a brow at Syzax, who nodded.
"Alright. Let's go. Slitfang, see them off with Tazzin. Me and Syzax will leave a trail for ye. Come on Rotface. Sharkson, I want you up here with me. Now!"
As they rushed to oblige, Sharkson muttered something. Syzax sent him a boot in the rump which knocked the stout weasel into a tree. Plugg chuckled as Rotface curled his lip and the vole rushed ahead of them, towards Liyarthin and Lord Leythin.
Shade Darkleg was busily polishing rat and weasel blood from his huge throwing sickles Slitfang had spoken of. His sword stood to one side, his javelin next to it and his dirk sheathed in his belt. His weapons all had a special sheath and made no noise when he walked with all of them.
Thistle, an old campaigner who was a little eccentric, stood talking to him in a gruff voice robbed of the noble accent the hares up north had.
"I see you flippin well went off without anybeast with you again. You idiotic little puddenheaded fool. Don't you get it through yer addlebrained head that you could be killed!"
Shade sighed and shook his head, saying in a whispery, raspy voice, "Don't you realize that if you call me one more foul name, I'm gonna hafta hurt ya?"
Thistle snuck out of the armory as Leythin sauntered up to him, his war scythe dull and dim. He grabbed a notched sharpening stone and set about on the edge of his weapon. The two worked in silence until Leythin gave a polite cough.
"Yes, my Lord?" Shade asked without looking up.
"You should learn to respect Old Thistle and his son Bart. Bart himself is almost twice as old as you, anyway."
"I got rid of a few of those bounders thought, didn't I?"
"Yes I suppose you did, but that doesn't excuse you from disobeying my orders. You cannot leave the mountain until the passing of the season. End of discussion." Leythin took his scythe and stone and was gone.
Shade cursed and finished his weapons in a foul mood. He walked downstairs to the dining room with only his dirk and sword on his many belts. He hunkered down at the table between two young haremaids, Skyeyes and Teryin, daughter of Treyin, the hare who had been there at Shade's birth. They were soppy, long lashed hares who were a season older than Shade and constantly stroked his weapons and fur.
As soon as he sat, they began flirting with him shamelessly. Skyeyes batted her pretty eyelashes at him, almost poking out her own bright blue eyes as Teryin rubbed his soot black, smooth fur. Shade grabbed a hunk of cheese and some bread, then loaded a haversack up with a big canteen of bilberry wine and another canteen of strawberry fizz, with some more bread for his only friend on the mountain, Summit. Summit was another young hare, who was albino, much like his hated enemy, Sharkson. His eyes weren't pink though. This beast's eyes were of the most haunting reddish orange that even Shade feared his direct gaze.
Leythin glared at the two and said after shaking his head, "You two are going to force him to do something drastic one day. As soon as Summit and Shade are asleep up there, you two are to assist Thistle with the summit defenses. That is all."
The two groaned and finished their meal in silence. A hare next to Leythin, Struck Swordblade nudged the big badger, adding politely, "No offense, sah, but Summit never ever leaves the mountaintop, wot wot. He's lived up there since his old pater's death, doncha know."
Leythin nodded and sighed. Two young hares such as Summit and Shade hadn't had fathers since their birth. Both were killed against the Corsair raiders of the shores. Struck finished his lunch and signaled to his regiment, threescore fighting hares and went to patrol the beach.
Skyeyes and Teryin slunk off to find Thistle, who was usually conversing with tables, chairs, and his rapier. Captain Sol Kan of the Long Patrol and leader of all the fighting hares in the mountain besides Leythin was a fine figure of a hare. She wielded a curved saber with an elaborate basket hilt and a pure steel blade with a single emerald at the bottom of the handle. She wore a faded red tunic with a faded yellow kilt. Over her normal garb was draped a long, no sleeved jacket.
She walked up behind Leythin and tapped his shoulder. He turned and she nodded towards the main gate. He followed her, dumbstruck.
At the gate was two foxes, a ferret, and three weasels. One of the weasels had bones protruding from his knuckles and the left side of his face was drooped horribly and his eye bulged out from the socket, red and yellow. The ferret was pure white with only half a tail and glittering white serrated teeth. The other four had the basic appearance of their species, besides the fact one of the foxes was almost as tall as Leythin himself, and the female weasel had a scar across her throat. Leythin instantly disliked them.
"What do you want here?" his thunderous voice echoed around the seashore.
The smaller fox, older than the rest, armed with a double headed axe and in a black Corsair jacket hobbled forward on a bad leg, pleading with Leythin, "Please, sir, we're down on our luck seagoers who lost our ship on the shore south of here. I lost everyone of me horde except the ones ye see here to the otter guard of Southsward while we were just passin through the region to find the shore and ship timbers."
Sol Kan whispered something to the badger and, reluctantly, he opened the gates of Liyarthin to the Freebooters of Cap'n Plugg Firetail.
Up on the crater rim, Summit Smokey and Shade Darkleg were enjoying a peaceful lunch. Summit's blue bladed halberd lay to one side, next to Shade's hiltless long sword. The dirk never left Shade's side. They munched on their bread, cheese, and drank their drinks in peace until they heard Thistle yelling at a catapult.
"Yew stupid beast! I told ye not to let Plugg and his offspring in here!" the old hare was yelling at the timber framed siege weapon.
Summit walked over to the old hare and relieved him of his bladed whip, telling him, "Stop yelling at the mountain defenses, wot. They might not want to work for us."
Thistle nodded and sat next to Shade. Forgetting their argument earlier, the old hare grinned at the young warrior. "Hey, there, Shade. How's the life treatin' ye?"
"Like a fox treats a pheasant while it's asleep," the younger hare replied, unable to stay angry with the old, confused warrior.
"What an ironic phrase. Two foxes are in the mountain right now!" As Thistle spoke, Shade grabbed his curved long sword and was gone.
"You shouldn't have flippin said that, wot. Now he's gonna get bally well jogged off from old Leythin," Summit grumbled as he picked up his halberd, his lunch forgotten. Shade and Summit were odd hares, due to the fact they had a smaller appetite than a watershrimp.
Thistle drew his rapier, wanting to be part of the moment and stalked down the tunnels with Summit, after Shade, conversing with various items along the walls.
"Why you great lazy axe! Get up and do something, sah! You there, battle sword, get off your double hilted aft end and move! Spears on the wall, stop arguing with the picture of Leythin and do summat!"
Summit grinned as he followed Shade's noisy footsteps.
In the armory, Sol Kan was conversing with Leythin, Plugg, and the remaining Freebooters. Despite their first thoughts, Plugg and his crew were very friendly. Rotface, despite his appearance was very friendly with the many leverets. Sharkson was silent as he kept to one side. Syzax, Slitfang, and Plugg were speaking to Leythin, the Freebooters having been relieved of their weapons, which adorned the wall for resharpening.
"We're sorry to burst in here like this, but a vole told us we could find some good fortune from Lord Leythin of Southsward. Might that be ye?" Plugg asked, pointing to the big Badger Lord with the war scythe over one shoulder.
Leythin was getting along well with Plugg and grinned, saying, "Nope, I'm Dibbun McBaby, the smallest molemousebabe in the world."
Plugg fell over laughing as Slitfang and Syzax looked to Sol Kan. The dangerous looking hare Captain was keeping her paw close to her saber. Slitfang became nervous and shifted awkwardly.
Shade Darkleg flew through the adderskin curtain separating the armory from the surrounding passageways, slamming into the weasel. Rotface freed himself of leverets and glared at the young hare. Sharkson barely raised a brow. The soot black hare's black sword blade was pressing against the weasel's throat. Leythin whacked Shade in the head, sending him crashing into a pile of staves. He fell over unconscious and Leythin helped Slitfang up.
"You okay, Slitty?" the Badger Lord asked him.
Slitfang, delighted that the badge knew his nickname, giggled and said, "Thanks to you, sire."
Leythin looked regrettably at the Freebooters, and announced, "I like you all, but my hares don't trust you. I will have to guard you day and night apparently until you gain their trust. I hope this doesn't offend you at all."
Tazzin waved her paws and shook her head. Slitfang spat out the window and followed Tazzin's example. Sharkson grunted, Syzax shrugged and Plugg took Leythin's paw.
"Course it don't. Freebooters don't get bothered by much no more." The big fox grinned through straight white teeth.
Leythin ushered them up into his own room, a big cavern with a huge rock slab in one side of the room and rush mats lain all about the big room. The Freebooters lie down on the mats, their weapons gripped closely.