A/N; (In a WWE announcer type voice) Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the main event.
7.
The Mask Descends
The following weeks were hard ones for those in Noonvale. The construction of the Refuge went on at a steady pace. Built against a solid cliff next to the waterfall the structure was crude, but effective. It had interior rooms for the old and young, storage areas for preserved food stuffs, a tunnel was dug by several moles to the stream to provide water for those inside. The outer halls were built so defenders could poke fire hardened ash staves out of narrow windows. An upper level allowed for the few archers in Noonvale to have an elevated firing position. The only entrance was tunnel whose entrance could be blocked by a large boulder in an instant. All in all it was a secure redoubt.
Brome heartily congratulated all the willing paws who had helped in the construction of the Refuge. Once more addressing the whole of Noonvale he threw his paws wide. "My friends, you have done a marvelous job building our Refuge. From here we will be able to last should the slavers try to take out valley." Cheers greeted his brave words. "Now let us stock and provision out shelter with what supplies we have left. I know the drought has caused many hardships, but we still have just enough stocks to last the summer. If we are careful we will be able to hold out."
With a new sense of determination the creatures of Noonvale set to the task. All day Brome oversaw the storing and placement of barrels of preserved fruits and grains. The few berries left on the bushes were boiled down into syrups that could be added to the water stored in several large oaken barrels kept in the heart of the Refuge. The stores were just being finished being loaded when evening started to fall.
A masked ferret drew one circle in the air with his paw. Rassk understood the message clearly. One night's hard march to Noonvale. Turning to his small horde he jammed his paw up and down twice to indicate the quicker pace. The Silent Slavers broke into a fast trot as they pressed through the woods.
Several lookout posts had been set up on the bluffs to the north of Noonvale. Crewed by competent squirrels they each had a hollow log set in them. The crews had been ordered to beat the logs at the first sign of the slavers. Posted a day or night's march from Noonvale it was hoped they would provide enough warning time to let the Noonvalers flee to the Refuge.
It was a smart precaution. As the evening shadows fell a lookout heard the tell tale clink of chains moving through the woods. Grabbing two mallets he began pounding frantically on the hollow log, the noise echoing though the woods.
Wham! Boom! Wham! Boom! Wham! Boom! Wham! Boom!
Soon the other lookout posts heard the sound and added their own beats. The wave of sound reached Noonvale just as the last provisions were being placed in the Refuge. Brome immediately shouted the alarm.
"They're coming! Everybeast to the Refuge now!" From across the valley mice, moles, hedgehogs, voles, squirrels, and otters ran for the Refuge. Frequent drills run through the previous weeks kept the creatures from a mad rush to the entrance tunnel. Still, with the vast numbers it took well past dark until the last Noonvalers were safely inside the building. Old and young were swiftly brought to the inner rooms. Able-pawed defenders took up their positions as Brome stood at the entrance tunnel and hurried the last Noonvalers inside. Looking to the north he saw the line of Silent Slavers on the north rim of the valley. Fear gripped his heart as he quickly ducked inside and had the moles roll the boulder into position.
Rassk and his vermin walked silently through the trees until they reached the valley rim on the wings of a storm. A crack of lightning caused him to look up. Angry boiling clouds were visible between lighting strikes. Rassk drew his sword and signaled his slavers into Noonvale. He watched as the last mouse crawled into a tunnel by the big rough building by the waterfall. His eyes surveyed the land. Here at last would be the place where he would set up his silent kingdom. How nice, he thought, for all those woodland creatures to go to the trouble of building his fort already. Signaling with his sword he led his slavers down the valley wall, the long slave line winding behind them.
Creeping quietly the horde crept past deserted cottages as they advanced on the Refuge. It was a truly terrifying sight to the defenders of the Refuge. The only light was from the lightning that gave a strange strobe effect to the night. With each bolt the slavers had crept closer and closer to their position. Silent and marching in perfect unison the invaders reached an open area of dry and dead grass in front of the Refuge.
Rassk pointed his sword at the faces of the defenders inside. Gesturing with the blade he made it clear he wanted them to come out and surrender.
"Take your vermin and leave here slaver!" It was the Vigil Keeper from the south bluffs. A gasp arouse from those inside. In all the confusion nobeast had remembered to check if that one had made it inside.
Rassk cocked his head to one side at the boldness of the creature. Raising two claws he pointed them at the challenger. Two masked rats sprang forward and charged with lowered spears. The Vigil Keeper swiftly drew a dagger from a pocket and deflected the spear points. Flashing left and right the rats fell slain from the small blade.
A cheer went up from those in the Refuge. It was quickly cut off as Rassk himself flourished his sword and stepped forward. Everybeast knew of the reputation of the masked and armored fox. Closing the distance between them swiftly Rassk began his attack. The Vigil Keeper defended bravely, but couldn't hope to match the skill of the fox. With an almost careless flick of his blade Rassk sent his opponents weapon sailing into the night. A hot wind started blowing strongly as Rassk kicked out with a footpaw. Catching the Vigil Keeper in the midriff caused that one to go flying backward against the wooden walls of the Refuge and collapse on the dry ground.
Brome watching from an upper level arrow slit could only cry out in horror as he cried out.
"Nnnooooooo!!!"
Rassk's sword flashed down.
Sswish! Zzzzthpth! Thunk! Clang!
Rassk's blade had been stopped. From seemingly out of nowhere another sword had blocked the slash and buried itself point first into the wall of the Refuge. Rassk started at the sword in wonder. Keen as a mid-winter icicle, a single fuller ran the length of the blade to the scrolling silver hilt. Bound in black leather the sword was unadorned save for a ruby red pommel stone.