A black rat sniffed the ground and inspected plants. Scrunching his snout and squinting, he called, "'Ere! Come on, Captain Eyomoth! I found somethin'!"

A big, powerful weasel came up to him. Nightrip was pointing at a thorn bush with a piece of blue cloth on it. The weasel captain chuckled. "Good, Nightrip. So they went this way?"

"Aye!"

A fat stoat called Lumpgut chuckled. "Huhuhu! We'll 'ave sum slaves t'day, oh yes!"

Nightrip paid no attention to Lumpgut, instead carrying on through the forest.

The captain of the gang, Eyomoth chuckled. "Yes, soon they'll row my ship! Heehee!"

His joy was dampened by Nightrip's remark as the rat cleared through the foliage, right in front of the Great Inland Lake. "Aaaargh! They had a logboat waiting, or they swam, darn Guosssim."

"Wot? Ye lost 'em?" called Eyomoth.

Nightrip shrugged. "Yew can't track through water. I don't know what to tell you, Captain."

Eyomoth growled. "Cum on, back to the ship."

ooooooooooooo

Eyomoth's ship was still unfinished, but enough to stay afloat the Great Inland Lake with the crew on it. Once it was finished and had some slaves to row, they would sail down the Great South Stream and be feared sea raiders.

Eyomoth sharpened his sword. Dark thought went through his head, innocent creatures foolish enough to build on the coast would slaughtered or put to slavery. And he would be the captain of it all, they would fear him and his great ship, the Bloodkeel!

His first mate, a rat called Dethfur, seemed to have similar thoughts. Every now and then he would have a fit of laughter and go "Die mouse, die!"

Nightrip the tracker just sat on a supplies box as always, reading a book they had pillaged.

Foulpaw the weasel bosun grabbed the book and flung it overboard. "Wot're ye readin' fer? 'Tis not right!"

Nightrip growled, "Maybe it's not right, but guess what? I'm a respected tracker and yer just the bosun!"

Foulpaw laughed. "Respected? Ha! Who respects ye?"

Nightrip bared his fangs. "Shoo!"

"Why should-"

"Supper!" called the cook, Lumpgut.

Nightrip had never seen the crew run so fast. Except for the other meals.

Walking slowly to the table, he selected a carrot and gnawed at it, while the others ravenously tore at roast fish and bird, or guzzled grog.

Tossing the carrot stub into water, he crawled to his bed early, as that was the only way to fall asleep, less you wait for the drunken vermin to stop talking. He slowly relaxed and drifted off to sleep.

oooooooooooooo

Nightrip awoke to the sounds of laughing. But instead of cruel, harsh laughing, it was jollier, definitely not vermin. He quickly exited the barracks and looked over the side of the ship. There was a few shrews laughing and drinking some shrewbeer, along with making faces at the ship.

He looked across the lake. Not to far were a few logboats, undoubtedly their escape route. Chuckling darkly, Nightrip knocked on the captain's door.

He heard the groggy sound of, "Cum in!"

Opening the door, he said, "Captain! Captain, I see the shrews! They're outside!"

The weasel clumsily got off his bunk. "Well, let's go git 'em! Cum on! Tell the crew to charge!"

Nightrip snickered. "Captain, I saw their logboats as well. What if some of the crew went around and blocked them from reaching their boats, then they couldn't sail away!"

Eyomoth chuckled darkly and patted Nightrip on the shoulder. "Good rat. Tell Dethfur to get a group organized. We'll be killin' today!"

ooooooooooooo

While Dethfur's gang swam away, the rest of the crew prepared for battle. Brandishing weapons and laughing wickedly, they waited for their captain's signal, making sure the shrews thought they were still asleep.

"Attack!" cried Eyomoth.

The vermin leaped over the ship's side and into the water, swimming towards the shrews. They weren't fast enough, as the shrews were ready for such an instance, and ran away into the woods, laughing.

Making it to the shore, Eyomoth growled at Nightrip. "Well, find them!"

Obediently the rat got on all fours, scrambling across the path, followed by the vermin. Sniffing the ground, his keen sense of smell led him through the woods. Looking through the foliage, he saw the shrews. There were more than just what he had seen by the ship, even young children. They were near where their logboats would be

"Captain, they're here, but-"

"Charge!"

It was a gruesome battle, both sides being hardened fighters, though the vermin had greater numbers.

Foulpaw the bosun laughed as he slaughtered the shrews. The weasel cut them down, murdering with ease. Beheading a young one, he heard Eyomoth cry:

"Try t'keep 'em alive! Remember, these are our future slaves!"

A tall and buff (for a shrew) Guosssim with a white tunic came charging at the weasel captain, calling, "Log a log a log a log!" He slashed at Eyomoth's face with his rapier, blood pouring from the gash. Eyomoth dispatched the shrew easily.

The remaining Guosssim threw down their weapons, and Eyomoth laughed. "Nightrip! Get them rounded up!"

Eyomoth was gruesome sight. The gash the shrew had given him scarred his face, and his eye was gone. Laughing maniacally, he went over to the shrew and cut out a piece of his bloodstained tunic. Grabbing some twine from his boots, he made himself a makeshift eyepatch.

"Haharr! From now on I shall be known as Bloodpatch, most fearsome corsair in the land! Err- sea!"

The crew applauded. A shrew mother passed Nightrip, saying, "You, your captain called you Nightrip, you are a cruel creature."

The rat shrugged. "I'm vermin. This is my fate."

Sneering, the shrew turned her back. Her young one looked over her shoulder and tweaked his snout. "Nigh-y! Nigh-y!"

Frowning, Nightrip turned away. What was he to do?

Without warning, another shrew burst from the foliage. She was very old, had a cloth over her eyes, and carried a hawthorn staff.

"You!" she cried, pointing the staff at Eyomoth- Bloodpatch. "And you!" She pointed at Nightrip. "And the rest of you scum!" She spun around. "You are cursed! Unless you redeem yourselves, you will be doomed!"

There was a moment of silence. Then the shrew fell over, dead, Foulpaw the weasel holding a sword behind her.

The vermin exploded in laughter. "Cum on!" called Bloodpatch! "We got slaves!"