Redwall: War of the Four Banners

by PepperDeadSworn

"Young as autumn, old as summer, from sea to forest the cries of war shall come Four armies, one outcome, in ruin you shall find the truth Look to the place of my rest, for friend shall be foe, and foe shall be friend." A epic tale of Redwall in which four great factions battle for the fate of Mossflower itself.

12. The Natural Order of Things

Chapter 11: The Natural Order of Things

Work in Gholand was never easy, let alone finished. The vermin settlement's high walls were especially troublesome to build, but each part was to Markem's particular design and forethought. The walls were wooden palisades with high slopes, with a ditch directly below it. The stands for the vermin guards had railings so that if there was skirmishing with weapons such as slings, a common woodlander weapon which had used to be the bane of many vermin sentries, the vermin would crash into a railing and slump to the side, and could hopefully be recovered later. The walls had small guard houses and huts, along with some coverings to prevent the sentries from being miserable if there was foul weather. Gholand was always expanding outward as new vermin were coming in, with the slaves of the fortress being commanded to knock down some older structure and erect larger and newer barracks. Markem had a great deal of supplies, and if the vermin where to stay, he needed warm beds and decent space for his new soldiers rather than them muelling around in their camps outside.

However, what often surprised newly captured woodlanders who found themselves in Gholand, besides the better food and even decent bedding then they suspected to be lacking, was that their owner seemed to work diligently beside them, motivating the vermin to aid. Markem and 'Dirt' had strapped themselves with ropes around their bodies, pulling on a large slab of gray stone cut from one of the quarries which Markem owned. The warlord huffed and heaved in a simple uniform, much to the befuddlement of one of the mouse slaves beside him doing the same.

"Put yer backs into it, lads! We'z almost got it in! Heave! Push!" Markem shouted. Several vermin were behind, aiding their warlord and huffing out their breath heavily. Both woodlander and vermin worked side by side, although for the woodlander's part most had not wished to be there. The slab was brought into Gholand through a section of the walls, since the gate area was far too crowded. Markem and his otter bodyguard breathed heavily, with Markem swiftly snapping his fingers at 'Dirt'.

"Grab me a cup o'l water, 'Dirt', would ya? Phew! Gutan! How many more slabs der be to bring in?"

Gutan was always surprised by Markem, the former corsair and oar slave himself, now taskmaster of the entire horde, was quick to answer "Several more chief, ya should rest. Yer back may just be given out!"

Markem shot him a dangerous glance. "I'll worry about me back when I be dead, an if that be the case, then we all need a break. Give these slaves their rations fer the day, an' well bring the rest in due course. Get a second shift in if ya be runnin low on time."

"Yes, chief!" Gutan began commanding the others as 'Dirt' brought him a wooden cup of water which Markem chugged down. He huffed, but still remained fairly well balanced despite what felt like pulled muscles. Several vermin who were helping came over, huffing themselves. Markem gave them a decent smile "Ya did well today, me lads. Strong beasts ya are, which be why I'll be considerin ya lot to be brought into me vanguard. Now be off to the trainin field, an' i'll be with ya shortly."

One rat shot up "Yes, chief! Glad we can help ya boss."

"Ya help me to help yerselves, me lads. This is all fer a new barracks, an' if ya continue to help, ya will get good beds an good roofs fer the lot of ya! Now off with ya." The rabble dispersed out of the hole in the wall, and were ready to aid their chief. In the background of this scene however, one rat stirred with annoyance, looking on with pure disgust at Markem. Luzgot wore his warlord uniform, but was flanked by several guards which Markem had kept around. Luzgot was on a short leash, and he knew it. Markem turned his attention to Luzgot who couldn't help but try to mock him.

"Ya work hard, me great warlord. Perhaps in another life ya would have made a good slave beast, eh?"

"Can ye blame me for bein bored? Sitting on a throne all day, eaten an' commandin ain't but to me a personal hell. These be my peoples, an' If Karlgo wasn't so insistent. . .an' smart on de'z matters, i'd be livin down here as well, in a barracks."

Luzgot seethed. He looked on at Markem, his softness betrayed a warlord who was undeserving of the title. A warrior with a large group of allies and friends was all but a sham to disguise the fact he was a common thug and brute Luzgot would have employed. Yet here he was, some dumb work beast working along slaves, acting kind and soft to his vermin lot, and worse yet, they were aiding him. Luzgot didn't see a warlord as much as a common soldier pretending to be better than he was.

"Fine by me, do as ya wish, me great warlord. However, may I ask to be headin off?"

"Aye, you will. Today, with a lot of company of course."

"Yes yes, wait. . .what?" Luzgot looked on with some general confusion at first. Several rats, weasels, and ferrets in decent armor and weapons came by Markem's side as he introduced each one by name. They had some rather diverse names, one was a rat named Bloodwatch who had a single blood red eye and face scars, one was an skinny weasel who gripped a halberd who was named Blakat. Markem finished introducing them and turned to Luzgot with a smile.

"Luzgot, meet yer new captains, strong vermin who will be accompanying you back to Luzland to help ya run yer horde. . .a bit more similar to mine. Each one paw-picked to serve in me armies, trusted with me ideas, and you will fully comply with them."

"Half me horde wasn't enough, ya have to run it yerself!" Luzgot shot out furiously, with Markem giving a hearty chuckle "Nay, these captains will be goin back to take half of yer horde back with them to me to be trained here, and the other half will be keepin an eye on ya and makin sure ya obey the new laws of me horde. Yer horde respects an' honors ya to call ya chief, but I view ya what ya really are. Another useless lout who be a cruel tyrant fer the sake of yer own cruelty, a leech on me an everyone else. However, ya are a warlord an I gave ya mercy, so you will go with me mercy as an example to all the other warlords who sworn to me."

Markem patted Luzgot's shoulder, who tried to shove it away. "If I catch ya tryin to kill me again, Luzgot, an' believe me I will know, I will not hesitate in endin yer life. Yer goin to go home an' come back with yer armies an' help me conquer Mossflower, or so help me, I will make you eat yer own guts." The message from Markem was clear as the warlord went out into the training fields. 'Dirt' couldn't help but smile as Luzgot was virtually dragged off by his new 'captains' to gather his guard and return home. Luzgot turned and was pushed forward, but a smile creeped off his face despite his tense conversation.

"Somethin makin ya smile, 'chief'?" one of the fake captains asked. Luzgot sneered at him "Aye. I gots lots of business to take care of once we go back to Luzland. Lookin forward to it."
_

Scarl was looking over some plans in the main hall of Gholand's keep, having scattered all manner of Mossflower maps which were crudely drawn. Each of the maps had frustrated him without end, as his plans for Markem's conquest relied on good information. His scouts were great when it came to describing specific details, but drawing wasn't his specialty. Yala came over with a plate for Scarl who motioned for her to put it near him and to leave him alone, which she quickly did. Scarl grunted and complained to himself, a normal routine for him.

"Bah. Come on Scarl, where the hells is dat damn river? Is it above or below the quarry? The mound? Next thing ya know, i'll see camp Tussock right on top of us!" Scarl wasn't easily displeased, but his scouts were having troubles. Long Patrol hares were ranging farther from Tussock, hunting down his scouts and questioning them, many returning either injured or worse. Soon enough he expected them to start disappearing entirely, especially once they discovered what had happened to their comrades. Scarl wasn't particularly happy with that development, so he had his scouts pulled back, relying more on maps to do his plotting. He spied a clearing, not too far off between Redwall and Tussock which interested him, but he pushed the thought out of his mind as several guards came in.

The two beefer vermin guards pushed in a small ferret, who was a bit smaller than Scarl was and who couldn't help cower in his ill-fitting armor. Scarl looked at the vermin, a Luzland soldier. Scarl spoke to him in a friendly manner "Ah, finally. You are. . .who are you again?"

The ferret was in fact Garzlo, Luzgot's spymaster and obedient vermin captain, although he was disguised as a common soldier for his mission here. He spoke up "I. . .I am Olzrag, my lord. Part of Luzland's crew, please, spare me for I did nothing wrong."

"Haven't ya? Well a certain squirrel disappeared from a cage a few nights ago, me lad, and there was a riot of Luzland vermin out there. Strange that of yer party, yer the only ferret, eh? I be hearin there is a captain in Luzland, some little ferret, Gazbin? Garbin? Or somethin, I don't particularly know. I heard he be Luzgot's spybeast, eh? I'm certain it be nothin now, but yer lookin a lot like him, Olzrag."

"Nay, it is a mixup usually, me lord, I swears."

"Ah, good, cause if you were Garzlo, a spy in me own fortress, under Markem's nose, I'd have ya strung up as one. Have ya lifted by yer paws over a nice deep pit an stabbed at with spears. Painful ye know. Good thing ya aren't Garzlo then."

"Aye. . .ehhh, good thing. So what did ya need of me, good sir?"

"Me lad, I am just makin sure yer comfy, an to investigate to make sure Luzgot ain't up to his ol' tricks. Cause if he falls, his horde's captains fall with em'. Ya wouldn't have some information on that ol' ferret would ya?"

Garzlo was sweating behind his helm, it was a large and ill fitting thing which nearly blocked his eyes, and he wondered how long before he caved. Scarl straightened himself and awaited the answer, giving a crooked smile. Is he toying with me? I hope he isn't, for my sakes!

"Nay, I hear he be back in Luzland, a dutiful creature he be. A good captain too!"

"Don't be fool hearty, me lad. I hear that ferret be mocked by every beast in Luzland an' beyond! Even Luzgot's slaves laugh at him, heh. No reason to be a liar, ain't that right? Ya wouldn't lie to the likes of me would ya?"

Garzlo gulped and meekly answered "N-no."

"Ah! Good. Well, it looks like ya lack what I want to hear anyway, so yer free to go back to Luzland. Tell yer mates i will be interrogating em' shortly, an that if I sniff out one falsehood from em', they will be wishin that Vake beheaded em'."

The disguised ferret had to be practically dragged out, shaking in his armor as Scarl turned his frustrating tasks. 'Mud' was nearby and came up to Scarl to ask once the shaking beast disappeared "I hate to point this out, Scarl, but I do think that was your quarry."

"You don't think I don't know that, waterdog? How long have ya known me 'Mud'? Of course I know that be Garzlo, now leave me alone. I am trying to figure out if this bend in the river is a shallow water or the vermin scout who drew it was eating blueberries on it."

"Blueberries. I know that bend, we crossed it when I was little, and you were younger. I think my brother chuckled when you nearly capsized your boat, many long seasons ago."

Scarl put his paw to his chin, and soon remembered. He nodded and made a mental note as 'Mud' asked, seeing that with Scarl pleased enough, he could actually talk to the ferret. "If I may ask, why let Luzgot's captain go? I thought you would be more mad."

"Mad? I am mad, that I was outsmarted by the likes of that shaking fool. Despite his cowardice, he is fairly smart and talented, the likes of which Luzgot ain't. No, I am letting him live for now so I can use him later, maybe recruit him if given the time an' energy. Lefen an' his bandits will be burned out one way or another, but there are bigger issues then rogue slave beasts scouring about. Unlike Luzgot, I learn from my mistakes 'Mud', and Garzlo is finding many holes. Now, will ya leave me be? Go find a dish rag an' clean something."
_

Markem was out in the field, observing the new recruits with 'Dirt' and several of his captains. Turbas greeted his old friend and saluted him, but not before taking a big swig of ale. Markem looked over the training field, with various vermin from all across Mossflower practicing and training. The newer vermin recruits, many of whom had sworn on the night he announced the Great Vermin Band were learning how to march in formation, and Markem's division system was being explained by his captains to their subordinates. Markem talked with his captains over some of the issues they faced.

"Food may be a problem chief, we'z got a lot of bread, but bird be more difficult to come by. Finding some good goose, fish, an' other meats will be a priority."

"Aye, agreed. I'll send out hunters to refill our stock. One of the slaves says we can use salt to better preserve the meats from rot. Is this true?"

"If we gots enough of it." Markem nodded, observing several vermin learning how to use spears. Most were younger and confident hordebeasts, some runaways from their families and were joining into the life of a warrior for the first time. Most gave a hearty salute to their warlord by pounding their chests, with Markem returning their humility with his own.

"I see we have young faces, Turbas."

"Aye, an' about as useless as children too. Ya lot, get back to marchin! Ya embarrassin the warlord with yer slack jawed beggin!" Markem watched as the vermin scattered as he continued on, observing the horde beasts. Most were young, young as he was when he had first joined Pelg all those years ago. He was the first warlord these young vermin hordebeasts ever sworn too, and he hoped he would be their last.

He noticed one younger warrior, with a smaller short sword, struggling to strap it onto his belt. The younger vermin, a weasel, shifted uncomfortably as he naively tied a part of the scabbard. Markem had excused himself from his captains, coming over. The youngster nearly fell into death itself from shock seeing his new chief calmly approaching and helping him properly tie the scabbard to his belt.

"Yer name, weasel. Ya got one?"

"T-they call me Mudpaw, chief!" The weasel blurted out, as Markem patted his shoulder. Markem was happy seeing his vermin training for war, but something overcame him, looking into the eyes of the younger weasel. He had not seen many seasons so far, and he looked very frightened. It had reminded him too much of his youth, traveling between failed warband to warband, giving his services for food. For a moment, he wanted to send the youngster back home, it would have been a mercy to send him away. Yet another thought entered his mind. Where would such a beast even go? The thought of the youngster, dead or dying, fighting in some fool's petty war also filled his head. No, they will not end up like that. I swears it. I swears it!

"Mudpaw eh? Tell me lad, where'd ya get yer weapon from?"

"My pa. . .he be dead now tho, an' I stole it from me mum, sir, to join ya." he had said a bit shamefully. Markem shook his head "Stealin from yer mother's own paw to join me horde, ya got enthusiasm at least, lad. Here." Markem stood Mudpaw up and helped him to get into a position, helping him to unsheathe his blade. It was a lot like teaching 'Dirt' when he was younger, helping the youngster swirl the blade around. The captains who had been discussing issues soon noticed and kept their distance, some amused as Markem showed the youngster how to take a defensive and offensive stance.

"Swingin a sword ain't be easy lad, a beast of any ol' kind need to know how to parry an' thrust. It be a simple thing, but it be important to learn. Like this." Markem was showing the youngster, but soon stopped. He patted Mudpaw who looked on a bit proud, as Markem rejoined his cadre. 'Dirt' remained close as he did, his eyes ever vigilant for trouble, but he did sneak a peak at the younger weasel who proudly began to redo what he was taught.

Markem marched with his captains, observing the strength of his sizable army and new found recruits. He grew a bit worried. "Ya think we can take on Tussock's hares with this lot, let alone Salamanderstron?"

Turbas was quick to point something out to him "Maybe, but Pelg had a big army too. Not as big as ours, certainly, but he suffered grievous casualties while the Hares lost barely any if I remember that battle right. Pelg an' his beasts be dead, an' he drilled him as hard as we do."

"Ya think we aren't ready then?"

The other captains chimed in with an array of 'yeses' and 'nos'. Markem wasn't pleased by this result, but Turbas was right. If the horde was to succeed, they would need to drill harder and longer. Markem spent a life time training his more elite creatures, he had spear and shield infantry at his beck and call, archers who could aim well, and fast moving skirmishers. Against vermin, he was legendary. Against Long Patrol, he had no clue how well it could go.

"Double the training. I'll join em' on the field to aid meself I need be, an' Scarl can appoint some trusted beast to take my appointments. The other warlords will arrive with their armies, and ours needs to be ready for war soon."

---

When Luzgot looked upon his home, returning to his fortress after a long journey from Gholand, he was not very happy to see it, especially after being pushed and prodded by his new 'friends' from Gholand. The new captains followed along behind, already discussing their plans for their new positions, with Luzgot's companions in the front. Most were terrified, but not of Luzgot, not the secret captain who slinked behind him, but of Scarl who made sure to give each vermin hordebeast a unique threat. One soldier whispered to Garzlo.

"Cap'n, Scarl didn't break me, I swears. Ya really think he is goin to chain us to a bent over tree an' fling us like a catapult at the hares!?"

Garzlo scoffed "Nay. Scarl be as gentle an' soft as ol' Markem is. Don't worry too much on it, mate."

The gates of the vermin fortress opened, with Luzgot coming in all his vermin glory. Luzgot was as typical as a cruel and sadistic warlord could be, a usurper of his own throne who was feared and respected by his horde who were quick to avoid his murderous gaze. Luzgot spent much of his personal time raiding near the coast, hunting settlements for slaves to refill his stock. These slaves were as miserable as any woodlander slave trapped as prisoners in a vermin fort, and as free spirited as one too. Luzgot had a sizable horde and commanded a lot of respect from local warbands and gangs, who owed him loyalty of sorts. His father spent many seasons building this empire, but it was Luzgot who maintained it. Yet, as he returned, the captains sent by Markem also made their move and began settling in.

Markem's captains had very specific orders, and moved into the main barracks of the camp. After a very short scuffle, the captains had run several vermin out of their home and moved in. Of those ran out, Markem's hordebeasts 'helped' two bumbling rats out of their new home by picking them up and throwing them into the dirt of the main courtyard of the camp. Luzgot couldn't do nothing but watch as his bumbling captains dusted off the dirt and mud from their uniforms and saluted him. Luzgot sneered.

"Snackfur! Gazla! As ya can see, we gots some new. . .friends from Gholand. Garzlo will inform ya what is happening, but you dolts better give me some damn good reports on whats been happening here."

"Boss, what about those thievin robbas!" Gazla shouted, the measily rat maiden pointed to Markem's beasts very swiftly taking control over the whole of the barracks. One beast came out with a great brown flag and began to wave it, calling out to other vermin.

"Yer all a part of Markem's horde now, welcome to the Great Vermin Band! Hail to Markem, an Hail to Mossflower!"

Luzgot turned and beckoned his captains to his side "Those new thieven wretches be yer new bosses, not unless ya help me keep em' under control. Now come, an' be quick, we gots plans to discuss!"
_

It hadn't even been a day before Markem's horde beasts were making drastic changes to the horde, even though they were limited in number. Each captain began imposing Markem's strict division rules on the vermin of Luzland and enforcing Markem's general rules and laws. Luzgot's taskmaster was deprived of his whip and had it burned when it was discovered it was used on fellow vermin, as each new 'captain' took on new subordinates and stole from Luzland's slave pens. By the time they were done, half the captains were training their new lot and commanding the vermin, and Luzgot was forced to allow it. Many of Luzland's vermin were starting to like their new captains, while others came to despise their treatment. Luzgot was like any typical warlord, a lazy and violent tyrant, and his superior vermin breed were angry to train like true Gholand soldiers. The slaves in Luzland found themselves trying to escape, not from Luzland itself, but into the open paws of Markem's captains who gave them food and treated them better.

Luzgot looked down as his captain Snackfur pointed down from the keep, they were inside where it was safe for the most part, as Markem's captains were more focused on their new authoritarian duties then keeping an eye on Luzgot, an order from Markem they were glad to ignore.

"Der goes the last of those mice an' otters chief. I think we have. . .five squirrels an' a hedgehog left. The rest be wearin dem rope collars. I think one of the mice, some fellow named Velter rallied the slaves to escape, an has been goading Markem's hordebeasts to take em' on. It be odd, ya think slaves be wantin to escape, not change masters?"

Luzgot felt humiliated. It wasn't enough for slaves to try to escape, or his vermin switching their loyalties before his very eyes. It was the fact his slaves were now somehow redefining the word 'desert'. The slaves found Markem's hordebeasts a lot more agreeable, and even often found themselves being freed by their authority in return for returning to their villages to provide tribute to their cause. Luzgot would have raided those villages personally, viciously prying them from the paws of his rivals. Now they were joining Markem's horde for his protection.

"Look at that lot, look! They just freed that group of mice! I claimed them last year from my raid on Yormshire! Damn that Markem!"

"My lord, please, do not be mad!" Garzlo came up to his boss "We can still turn this around, remember your plan?" In reality it had been Garzlo's plan, but Luzgot shifted towards his throne and began speaking "Yes, I remember my plan well, you sniveling dopes! Is there not a captain here who can do their job! If Markem's beasts continue to act like this, I'll lose my entire horde to his lot!"

Snackfur interrupted his lord, still looking out over the fort. Several of Markem's captains, flanking a mouse, entered into Luzland's slave pen and escorted the last remaining slaves outside the fort. Snackfur sneered "Well chief, there goes the last of our work beasts. . .again."

Luzgot angrily threw a spear in Snackfur's direction who ducked out of the way in time before it landed into the wooden frame. He crawled away to a more safer distance as Luzgot began to ramble and rant "Useless, crawling toads! Worthless nitwits! Not by the day do I lose my horde, but by the hour! Damn that Markem! Damn him!"

Garzlo spoke up "My lord, perhaps you should speak to your horde beasts, get them motivated an' such."

"An debase my position to give that useless rabble, worse then the lot of you, a chance to even speak with the likes of me? It isn't dignified. No, they must know I am stronger an' more competent than Markem. We will cut their rations, but offer double rations fer those who give onto me their loyalty. Tell em' that their rations are cut by order of Markem."

Garzlo meekly began speaking, his place near his overlord's throne "M-my lord, Oh master of Luzland, if I may speak. Markem will be preparing for campaign soon, he will except you to be leadin the horde in his name."

Snackfur shot up "You sniveling cretan, how dare ya imply the chief serves that soft wannabe warlord!"

"Silence you fool, Garzlo is right." Luzgot sighed as the ferret slinked back in fear of his fellow captain. "I made a damn oath, an those flags flyin over me fortress be Markem's. I will be preparin fer the campaign for Mossflower, along wit every warlord in the whole of the east. Hazul. Parb. Even Kylan will all bring der hordes an' allied warbands to Markem. His army be huge, but I am not concerned."

"Nay chief? How can we hope to kill Markem when he gots so many allies?"

Luzgot angrily raised his voice at Snackfur in annoyance "Cause we got allies of our own to help us you nitwit! Listen adder-brain, Markem and I will be on campaign soon, but we'z got friends fer my plans an' plots ya see. I gots a nice plan formin ya know, but it be risky an' it needs to be done right. I cannot move without dem beasts outside noticin, which is why I will unfortunately have to rely on you lot to do so!"

Gazla dumbly put her paw to her chin and rubbed it "Wel'z how do we do that, chief? Whats kind of allies we got anyhow?"

"Lefen an' his band o' slaves fer starters. I had Garzlo free the wretch not too long ago, an' the squirrel will meet us soon. Garzlo an' I will bring him on into me plan, but ya two need to go out an' find me some better allies then a pack of future work beasts."

Garzlo shot up "Tis a good plan chief!"

"Of course its a good plan, you half-minded wretch! I came up with it! Now Snackfur, you an' Gazla need to head on over to Great Marsh. Ya will take a pack of me best hordebeasts with ya, an' be sure to bring along some of the younger ones we recruited a season ago. Ya know the lot. I need ya to bring in Parb into me plans."

"Of course chief, ya can count on Snackfur an' Gazla!" The two rats went off to do their duties as Luzgot sat on his throne, scratching at his chair. One his servants came by, and now his last slave. It was a mole in a hood who served a cup of wine to Luzgot who angrily took it in his paw and drank it. The mole had been in Luzgot's service since he was young, having not been seen outside the fortress in a long while. Yet, he went over to the window of the fort while Luzgot ranted and raved and Garzlo heaped praise on his lord. He looked down, barely able to see the commotion. Not many even knew he existed as Luzgot angrily called out.

"Dannek you useless mud sniffer! Get back over here an' start cleaning this mess! I want to see this place cleaned up within the hour while I am gone, or I will have you beaten into a nice mesh!" Danneck silently obeyed, as Garzlo looked up with dumbfoundment at his lord. "Ya leavin so soon, those rebels will take some time to get here?"

"You are lucky you are smarter then the lot below us, Garzlo, or I'd have thrown ya onto a spike. No you idiot, we are goin to meet me. . .other captain. He must be ready fer me plans."
_

Snackfur and Gazla were getting prepared in a more makeshift area of the barracks, with Snackfur being the most annoyed as two vermin youths were wrestling each other before they even left. Usually, Snackfur would have snapped at one of the barrack's slaves to begin packing his things, but now he didn't even have that. Markem's hordebeasts had once again emptied the entire fort of slaves, who were either making their way home as tributaries, or were now being added to the new divisions as cooks, weapon cleaners, and labor crews. Gazla, Snackfur's fellow captain, however was dumb enough to be convinced to begin packing most of their things.

As they prepared to leave, Luzgot came down from his fortress with Garzlo, although the two maneuvered themselves over to the two captains. Once Luzgot came into sight, the two vermin who had been wrestling quickly came to attention and hoped their warlord did not notice. He had unfortunately did and whipped himself to them and grabbed them by the scruff of their clothes

"Ya layabouts better knock that off, or I'll have ya tanned! I lost a lot if not all me work beasts, don't make me consider adding ya in chains yerselves!"

Snackfur couldn't help but roll his eyes as Luzgot kicked him "Why haven't ya lot left yet!"

The rat captain got up and shook off dirt and grass from himself "We'z preparin to leave chief, don't ya worry. We'z need vittles, campin supplies an'-"

"Are ya a vermin or a gentle beast, Snackfur? Ya don't need any of those. When me pa and grand pa were wanderin, they scavenged an' slept under hollow trees. Now get movin. Remember, when ya get to Parb, have her meet me in Luzland."

"If I may ask chief, why are we bringing some of the youngin' recruits?"

"You'll know when ya get there. Just do as she says, mate. Parb is a wretched mink, but I owe her several debts just fer that. . .special drink I tried to give to Markem. Now, get goin or I'll tan ya." Luzgot seemed to give a lower voice then usual and it made Snackfur uncomfortable. He didn't particularly understand his boss, but he obeyed as he always did. Garzlo and Luzgot went to the gates of the fortress and looked around. It was clear that going outside the fortress with all of Markem's horde watching would have been a terrible idea, but Luzgot wasn't much of a smart rat. He was thinking, but Garzlo did much of that for him.

"So's, where we headin, my lord?"

"We'z need to get into der forest, past the tree an' into the coast. Me new mates be there waiten. However, we also gotta stop first near an' old camp of mine, filled to the brim with me favorite snacks an' ales. Were gonna need em'."

"A most excellent idea, sire, but why didn't ya tell me about dis?"

"Cause you and the rest of me captains are bunch of lug brained fools, is what. This captain be a real vermin, a real warrior, unlike Snackfur an' his lot. Gazla at least has good blood an' a good history! You'll get to meet me new general, an ya will give him the respect he be deservin. However, I cannot even escape dis camp without those lot lookin, an' me new favorite needs to be ready an' informed. I'd send ya, Garzlo, but he'd as much kill ya as look at ya. Like a real vermin would."

Garzlo gulped and thought, he looked over at the keep and quickly thought up an idea "My lord, remember when Markem came through the keep an' captured ya? Why don't we go the same way. We'z got some rope still, an Markem's hordebeasts be greedily out there stealin our troop. We'd just need to tie it down an' off we'd be goin."

"And if they come back lookin fer me?"

Garzlo peaked around a corner, with Markem's 'captains' mostly arguing over who got some of the stronger weasels and rats to command. He had spotted Snackfur and his party also arguing with one of Markem's hordebeasts, mostly over wanting to 'recruit' one of his party to their own. He sneered and came back to his master "They'd be busy, likely all day my glorious overlord."

"Good. Glad I thought of it, now lets get movin!"

Garzlo got a rope from a shack of supplies and tied it to the far end of the keep's heightened compound, and both slid down the rope. Garzlo had learned from his mistakes from that fateful night, and had guards stationed along the quarter of the walls, although he could not discipline them himself. He was a lanky captain who earned Luzgot's respect with his words, and occasionally trading his ideas for food and authority. The two slide down, with Garzlo attempting to command one of the rats near him "Me an' the boss be back soon, make sure Markem's hordebeasts be kept at a distance."

The guard scoffed, but obeyed. Luzgot was just about to touch ground, struggling to keep his armor's weight from sliding him harshly into the soft ground below. Garzlo followed, frightened at first. He wasn't in much of a good shape and froze several times, desperately hanging onto the rope. Luzgot called up angrily at the guard watching him "Push em' down, I don't have time for this!"

"Nay! Nay!" Garzlo called up. The guard did as he was bidded and pushed the edge of his spear down on Garzlo's face who fell on the ground. Bruised and weary, Luzgot angrily marched off "Save yer strength, ferret. Ya are goin to be pushin an' handlin me big cart of goodies fer me new captain."

Garzlo and Luzgot clumsily went around the fortress and came up to a clearing hidden in the brush of the forest, a small piece of bark hid a bunker to a store room of dead birds, barrels of otter ale, and candy which was raided from merchants. Several store piles were missing, but Luzgot ordered Garzlo around "Start packin them outside, there be a old merchant cart in the brush. Well get to it, or ya will pay your laziness by sleepin in the slave pen."

Garzlo hopped to work and loaded a large quantity of foods and ales into the cart. He struggled to actually pull the thing, but his boss's watching eyes made him do his work with silence, although realistically he couldn't push it far. Luzgot eventually helped, pushing the ferret aside to do it himself, but ranted and raved as the two stepped onto the beaches of the eastern coasts. They walked for what felt like hours, the gulls circling overhead till they spotted a large camp in the distance. Luzgot gave a grim smile, pulling him and Garzlo to the tents. Coming in and out of the tents were groups of salamanders with long tridents, well armored in scaled metal and clothed in the furs of long defeated foes. Garzlo looked around frightened, seeing the tribal beasts slither about as they gave way to let Luzgot and his cart through. Luzgot snapped at some lizards to replace him in bringing the cart forward to the middle of the camp, in which a beached ship sat splintered on the coast. From a hole in the shop came a huge salamander with a leathery orange skin, his black eyes peered down as he swiftly came up to the cart and took a rotting bird into his slimy paws and began to eat at it hungrily.

"Garzlo, meet yer co-captain, Zokal." The salamander looked at the two and slurrped greedily on the carcase he was eating. He was very well armored, and the wrecked ship he lived looked to be a galley. He didn't say much as he continued to chow down on his meal, along with slurping at some ale.

"When ye were gone findin that poison, Garzlo, this cretan washed up on me shore. I've been feed'en him an' his lot secretly. They come from a distant land, but they are good fighters. I'd have brought em back to me fort fer certain if I didn't wanna reveal me full paw. They have been out here in the wilderness livin it up, but I be feed'en me good Zokal wit ales an' birds. Hes been quite loyal, an' even helped chase away some of dem' otter warriors from a holt long off from here. Ya remember the ones, the lot who came lookin fer some beast I slayed I thinks. They are well armored, well trained, an' a perfect soldier to lead me armies."

Zokal spoke "Yessss, Zokal Ssserves. For foodsss. Luzzzgot, yousss bring me goodsss, whatsss can Zokal do for yousszz." Zokal's speech terrified Garzlo who couldn't help compare it to that of a snake. Zokal's crashed ship was a sailing boat, but it looked like an otter made boat, likely pillaged from a raid. Garzlo could only guess what had happened, the fool lizards had raided or stolen the boat and accidentally ran ashore. Trapped, hungry, and without much cause, Luzgot likely came upon them and offered them food, in return for their loyalty. Garzlo also realized something else, something Luzgot perhaps was not too keen on, that this lot of armored cannibals were mercenaries.

"My lord, and most smart master." Garzlo whispered "Are ya sure this lot be loyal?"

"Of course they are you nitwit! Zokal be doin a lot more better then you an' the rest of me captains, and hasn't disappointed me yet. I feed him good like any hordebeast, and remain completely at me mercy! Ain't that right, my captain?"

Zokal smiled "Offsss courssse, my lord."

"See? To explain me plan to you lot. Come in close, cause ya all must listen. If we are to overthrow that soft wretch Markem, ya all must listen well an' good."

---

Lefen had been dashing through the woodlands of eastern Mossflower, but his journey to the new safe point of his rebellious group was filled to the brim with issues. He may have escaped, but getting to where he needed to go without running into sentries and vermin outposts made it difficult for him to gather food and supplies. Scarl had sent out hunters from Gholand, but after a series of failures in tracking Lefen, had given up the chase. Lefen was home free, but starving and wandered through the brush with overdue caution. It was perhaps luck or divine will that he was able to find an old path which led to a village, but it was perhaps a curse to see the village flying the brown colors of the Great Vermin Band. Lefen cursed under his breath and kept in the brush, looking for an opportunity to get food.

Lefen didn't like Markem, the rat warlord wasn't exactly a new face for eastern Mossflower's issues. Vermin packs would raid and pillage along Mossflower's borders, but far eastern Mossflower often had to fend for itself. Lefen had once considered moving his family toward Fort Tussock, where the Long Patrol were dominant and kept the vermin at bay, but his farmstead was where he had grown up in, and where his fathers settled to farm nuts. Now that farmstead was gone, burned down by Markem a long time ago. Lefen felt more and more concerned, with Markem now uniting so many vermin under his banner, he feared his system of oppression would reach across all of Mossflower soon enough.

Lefen kept his distance from the village. It was a small mouse settlement, run by a small and peaceful clan of mice. However, like many settlements now-a-days in eastern Mossflower, they were now all subjects of Markem. A vermin camp consisting of several vermin guards remained encamped nearby, with the mice going about their business. Lefen knew of Markem's 'tributary' system, which reduced good and free beasts to mere peasantry, a protection racket where the vermin took a large bulk of the tradable crop back to their horde in return for protection against other vermin. To Lefen, it was a laughable system. Vermin were in the end cowards and liars, and would abandon the farmers at first sight of trouble or abuse them simply because they could, especially being far from Markem's sight.

Lefen kept watch, looking greedily at a stockpile of bread which the mice were rationing out to their farmers. From one of the households, an otter and his family came out and got their fair share, which the mice pitifully and gladly shared with them. The otter was joined by his wife and three little ones, barely sized as babes. It was heartbreaking and infuriating for Lefen to notice they wore not only rags, but the instinctive rope collars of Markem's slaves around their necks. This wasn't unusual, Markem would send out his slave laborers to help tributaries who asked for laborers, and this was no different. The larger otter took some bread and a fishing pole and began making his way towards the stream nearby. Lefen followed through the brush.

He followed the otter to the stream who began to peacefully fish, his whole focus at the stream itself. Lefen watched him and his pack of freshly made bread and slowly approached. In his hunger, he had not noticed as his paw harshly came down on a snapped twig as the otter called in an annoyed grunt.

"I'm fishing Barbfang, leave me alone. You'll have your meal soonish." There was no answer as the otter soon became nervous, with Lefen revealing himself in a cautious manner. The otter turned around surprised to see him.

"Do not be afraid, the names Lefen, otter."

"Lefen, eh? Names Rufo. What brings you all the way out here?"

"Escape. And food."

The otter smiled and took up some of his bread and broke it in half, since he would need to eat it today. He passed it to Lefen who chowed down on the bread and sat with the otter. He rested, but would occasionally glance back. "This Barbfang, a vermin guard I take it?"

"Aye. Real piece of work that one is. He'd love to whack me with a willow branch if he could, but his own boss often drags him from one end of the village to another if he tries. You escaped from Gholand I take it?"

"Yes. I'm heading back to me friends. If you wish to come, I wouldn't mind." The otter only gave out a deep sigh and went back to fishing "Love to escape with ya, I would. Me and my family got caught by a vermin patrol, and were dragged back to Gholand in chains. Me poor wife now cooks food for that lot, but at least they don't lash us like me pa use to say about em. I doubt you brought an army to free us."

"I wish I did, good otter."

"I'll try to smuggle you out some vittles out fer ya friend." Lefen happily nodded as the otter got up and went back to the village. Lefen awaited by the stream, thinking to himself. I swear, I will return and free you all from Markem's tyranny and drive those vermin cretans back into whatever hellish hole they came from! I swear it. Lefen waited, and waited, and then became concerned. Then he looked in the direction of the village, with a small puff of smoke rising from it. Lefen was soon off, knowing full well that it wasn't a campfire's smoke.
_

Lefen looked in horror as one of the mouse's huts were burning, his first thought at first was that the vermin were getting rowdy and decided that the village wasn't producing enough. It wouldn't be the first or last time since Markem's horde burned something down, but it made very little sense to Lefen. Then it made a lot more sense when he saw a strange group of light orange foxes coming out from the corner of the burning house, laughing and talking to each other. They wore an assortment of colorful clothes, with jingling golden jewelry all across their body and both wearing an instinctive red and purple turbans. Lefen continued to circle, looking for the otter Rufo and hoping he and his family was safe. His hopes were swiftly dashed as a larger group of foxes came shifting out of the far end of the forest and were dragging behind fleeing villagers and gathering them into the middle of the town.

One of the foxes went off, leaving another to play with a torch as he set fire more to the burning structure. He was haphazardly doing these things for the fun of it, and had not seen Lefen run up behind him. Sneakily, Lefen came up from behind while the fox was throwing his torch through the window of the burning home. The squirrel disarmed the fox of a knife hanging from his belt and swiftly brought it up into the fox's neck and then another thrust into his head. The vermin slumped to the ground, shocked and mortified, but silently as Lefen looted the corpse of a nice ornate axe. To be sure he wouldn't be noticed for good measure, he kicked picked up the corpse and fed it through the very window the fox had thrown his torch into, the flames hiding the assassination from sight.

Lefen hurried back to the brush, observing his new weapon and continuing to trail around the village. The fox's companion came back, finding his companion gone and spotting some blood on the ground. He wasn't sure of what had happened, but he didn't seem to care all that much as he took up a more defensive stance and went about his business elsewhere. This was rather normal for common hordebeasts to do, especially lazier ones, who often were optimistic that their companions likely would make a mistake and patch up farther from the horde. It was a quirk that Lefen predicted and had exploited before.

Lefen found a better clearing so he could peer and hear the village's center, looking on as one of the more abundantly dressed foxes looked about him, at a group of frightened mice and the small otter family which sat in the front. The vermin who had been on guard however did surprise Lefen a bit, with several dead alongside two or more dead foxes. Their commander, an angry looking rat, was pulled forward by a group of the foxes towards their leader. Lefen got a decent look at him, a large and dirty creature, wearing a rug-like robe. He wore a set of iron and golden earrings which covered his ears, and a golden orange sash across his waste. He lifted a large sabre at the chin of the rat, and calmly spoke.

"Ah, you hadz fought well, me friend. Well indeed, an' if you werez a fox I may even hav'z brought you into me'z horde. Too bad yer boss be'z a wretch an' a softy."

The rat spat out and looked at the burning structure and gave a twisted smile "We will call in reinforcements, ya wretched degenerate an' bandit. You an' your entire lot will be dead soon enough!"

Lefen knew the rat was right, he had passed by an outpost with a division of Markem's vermin. They would see the burning in the distance soon, but the fox's cruel laugh echoed in the air.

"Ya'z think I not be knowin? Me clan be faster, stronger, smarter'z den the lot of you, an yer weak an' pathetic chief will rue the day he insulted the like of me and me whole tribe! Ain'tz the right me lads!" The foxes yelped victoriously, clearly a bit more distracted. Some of the foxes were typing up the paws of their captives, as Lefen began to circle around again. He had no clue what the foxes were planning, but he did not like where it was going. Lefen was well accustomed to swiftly moving around, but he was more cautioned since getting captured by Scarl. He weaved behind a group of buildings, look around to get a better look.

"Ya lot, move these new slaves out. The res'z of ya, start packin our supply, we'z got less den a few moments to be outta here wit'z out loot. Now get to movin!"

The fox look at the rat commander, giving a greedy smile "Whe'z yer boss be knowin dat I, Zangan, be capture an'z killen his beasts, an' canno'z be doin much but waiten an cryin"

Lefen knew that name, but he had never seen Zangan or his tribe before. Zangan's fox tribe came out from the eastern sea and had been a troublesome group of bandits, but their primary goal was to pillage and to enjoy their ill gotten spoils. They were one of the few groups of vermin who didn't fall under Markem's sway, and often attacked his tributaries. These creatures never attacked so boldly before, and likely that is exactly why they were here in this smaller community. Lefen kept his eyes on Zangan and his hordebeasts, but he couldn't see Rufo.

As the foxes were trying to pull their new captives away, Rufo came charging out of a household with a knife and yelled out a warrior's shriek as he embedded it into the shoulder of a fox. The fox was taken quite by surprise as the otter grabbed an axe and held it to the injured hordebeast's throat, who stopped struggling. Zangan looked on a bit impressed as the other foxes were unsheathing their weapons and prodding at Rufo.

"Don't ya try it, fox! Ya take me family an' friends away, I'll take yours without a second thought I will." The fox he held captive looked frightened and whimpering. Zangan came closer, his paw on the tip of his sabre. "Gettin one of me clan captured, eh? Interestin move. Whatcha'z want otter?"

"Ya unbind the mice an' me family and we go our separate ways fox. Ya don't got much time till that vermin band be upon ya."

Lefen knew this was a decent plan, an injured fox and a delayed retreat would pull Markem's hordebeasts of their trail. Rufo also knew that Lefen was somewhere nearby, they could now all travel together to the freed beast's hideout. It wasn't a bad plan, as Lefen looked on hopefully. Zangan came close and drew his sabre "If ya let me clansbeast go'z, I'll spare ya till we get'z to me camp, slave. Der'z collar on yer'z neck means ya be treated softly'z, but ol' Zangan will treat'z ya proper. Might even spare ye'z little ones, at least'z onez of dem."

"Touch me and he dies, fox." Rufo gritted his teeth. Zangan shrugged and closed the distance, and with a swift leap plunged his sabre in thrust through both the chests of his own clansbeast and the otter. Rufo was taken by shock, as the foxes around him laughed and sneered. Lefen's hope left him, as the otter slumped down along with his captive, as the pained screams of a newly made widow hugged her despairing pups. Zangan cleaned his blade of the blood and came over to the rat captive who struggled angrily, yelling and cursing.

"Degenerate! Bandit! I hope Markem skins ya alive, you wre-" Zangan didn't let him finish his sentence, with one cruel and harsh swing beheaded him on the spot. Zangan smiled and admired his blade and called out "We'z move! I don'tz hear feat padding into the forest mate'z! I wanna be backs in'der camp'z soon before Markem'z hordebeasts be upon us."

Lefen angrily looked at the slumped over body of Rufo, clutching his wound was his last defiant act. The squirrel picked up some pebbles from the ground and began circling around buildings. He climbed onto a roof and angrily chucked a rock at Zangan's head, hitting him in the jaw. The fox wheeled around and comforted it as Lefen looked on. I'm not going to have that bastard get away with that. Just need to keep him pinned.

Zangan angrily shot pack "Kill der'z beast who did that!" Lefen would swiftly and silently wheel around the buildings. He had a knife and an axe, but he decided to mainly use his rocks. He would chuck rocks at the foxes, pinning them down as they tried to look around to see who was throwing them. Zangan was smarter, commanding his foxes to check the roofs and buildings, refusing to be ambushed or humiliated. However, Lefen was smarter and would quickly go around structures and unleash a torrent of stones.

As one stone caught Zangan's paw, thrown from behind a structure he called out "Der'z must be slingers, eh? Light the rest of this wretched town ablaze! Get these beast movin out!"

As one fox began to try to pull at the rope lead of their prisoners, Lefen through his knife at him, killing him quickly. The foxes began to think they were in danger, hiding about and loosening their search. Lefen sneakily rounded a corner and back onto the roof. He was running out of stones, but Zangan was becoming too dedicated to his hunt. As Lefen prepared to strike down Zangan with an axe, a fox spotted him from a corner and swiftly threw a knife into the squirrel's shoulder. "I got'z him! Tis be a squirrel, chief!"

Lefen cried out as Zangan called out "Well? Get'z him to me so I can kill him'z meself!" The fox called upon two others, trying to get onto the roof, but Lefen angrily kicked some of the loose hay and fell through. Lefen was exhausted and hurt, taking the knife from his shoulder, but he knew he didn't have much time. He quickly began to bolt to the house's door and thrusted a chair to the latch to barricade himself inside. A fox who had climbed the roof was soon in the room with him, and tried to attack him. Lefen hoped for an easy fight, but the fox quickly got a handle on him with his sword, scratching into his flesh without much effort. Knocked to the ground, the squirrel saw the fox clansbeast charge, and quickly smashed his knife into the fox's foot. It stunned the attacking creature for only a little while, as Lefen began climbing a peasant's table and painfully lifted himself back off into the roof. Zangan for his part began to light torches and throw it into the household, the fox inside limping out before his chief killed him as well.

Lefen didn't have a lot of energy left to jump as foxes began to close on in. He jumped down and was able to swiftly find himself hiding near a wagon left to the side of another home. He could see the captives had been keeping down, as Zangan whirled around and angry shouted orders.

"How'z could ya'z lose a squirrel, you idiot'z! Find der'z squirrel so I can slay'z em!" One of Zangan's minions was about to speak up, but stopped and twitched. He fell over, with an arrow sticking out his back. The roar of two house fires had hidden the arrow's owner, but Zangan could see in the distance as a swarm of vermin soldiers came barreling down and were swiftly making their way towards them. It was a garrison of Markem's hordebeasts, separating themselves into three parts to enclose the group in. Zangan looked out, he had not expected reinforcements so soon. He called out "Run'z! Run'z back to the camp, separate'z in der'z forest!" Zangan and his clan of bandits were rushing off, some falling to arrows as Markem's division of hordebeasts gained distance. Within melee range however was where they faltered, the brown clad horde were unable to keep up pace with their quarry. Zangan and his bandits disappeared back into the woods, their raid ruined.

Lefen collapsed in the cart as the vermin swarmed in, looking to see the damage. The last thing he saw was a vermin soldier curiously looking down at him, pulling him from the cart itself.
_

Lefen awoke, wondering if he was bound up or being dragged away to be executed, but instead he found the face of an older mouse looking down at him. The mouse gave a weak smile, his face illuminated by torch light. Lefen sat lying on his back as he came too, realizing he had not been bound at all, and was in a camp of mice. The mice villagers helped Lefen up as he grasped his shoulder, the wound bandaged and laden with some kind of herbs.

"It was the last of the salves we could get our paws on, stranger." Lefen looked around a bit confused, wondering why the vermin didn't tie him up or kill him. He looked at the older mouse, soon realizing several other mice were around him, watching. Lefen quickly asked "Rufo. Is. . .is he alright?"

The older mouse frowned, holding back tears as he shook his head "I am sorry. Did you know him well?"

"No. We met by the river. He was to get me some vittles." Lefen had hoped, but the fox's sabre proved a cruel weapon. The mouse looked over whose gaze Lefen followed. A vermin camp laid in the distance, not too far off. Lefen looked around, hoping to see Rufo's family, but didn't see them. "His family? Wife? Pups?"

"In the vermin camp. They are still slaves, but they spent much of the evening burying the bodies and saying farewells. Rufo's missus weeps still, but the vermin at least leave her alone. I feel terrible for them, but we cannot do much. I feel half responsible when he an' his family got caught up in all this. Rufo was a good friend of mine, but he got caught by a patrol of vermin and ended up slaves to Markem's horde. Me and my clan became his tributaries, and I went to Markem's fortress to help Rufo and his family get away from Gholand. Now it be lookin like they are returnin. .wit one less."

"Tis no one's fault other than the vermin's." Lefen angrily gritted his teeth and sat up. The mouse gave a nod "Tis true, but we are powerless to stop em'."

"Not unless we fight back. I am Lefen, and I lead a group of rebels in the deeper parts of the forest. I was heading there, but I had troubles. I'm surprised the vermin don't have me tied up in their camp."

"They likely didn't recognize you. I told them you were a new member of the village, and were helping out with our crops."

"They bought it?"

"They had no one to verify it other then me. Zagan and his wretched hordebeasts murdered the remaining vermin guards. To them, you are just another serf."

Lefen sighed with relief "What about the foxes themselves? I think I know Zangan a bit, but ive never seen him in action. That wretch didn't get away did he?"

"Sadly yes. The reinforcements were able to catch up with the foxes, at first, but were unable to pin them down for long. Most escaped while others were killed. The vermin tried to keep on their trail, but from I can gather, they split off in various direction and began covering their tracks once they got out of sight."

"I'll kill that fox myself if I get the chance again."

"Didn't you try and fail?"

"No." Lefen pointed to the vermin "I know Markem keeps garrisons around, and they would have likely seen the fire. I was delaying them so those idiots could catch up and the two vermin could fight one another. I am thinking Rufo had the same plan too, but didn't count on that ruthless wretch butchering both him and his own hordebeast! However, I must be off, and swiftly."

The older mouse gave Lefen a knapsack of food and supplies and looked about, he called two stronger mice over to him. "If you are a rebel, please take some of my sons with you. They wish to see this land free as vermin as I do. I cannot stand to see young and good beasts toil under vermin paw any second longer. For Rufo, I wish nothing but vengeance for my good friend. I wish I could do more for his family, but this is the best I can do."

"I will gladly accept your aid. You two, follow close. We will break for the river. What will you tell the vermin if they figure out that three of us are missing?"

"I will tell them nothing, and hope for the best. Now please, hurry, before they catch on."

Lefen and his two new companions were off in the night, moving silently as they took on a distance. Lefen gave one last look at the vermin camp. I will return. I will return to make your family free, otter. I will defeat Markem, his vermin, and drive creatures like Zangan off a cliff! I promise you, I will not allow this to continue. Be strong Rufo's missus.
_

It took some time, but by the early afternoon, Lefen and his two new companions reached into the eastern forest's deeper areas, where civilization ended and where the primordial lands beyond began. Neither vermin nor woodlanders lived in this land, and it was fairly distant from any sign of either the Long Patrol's gaze or Markem's concern. The three woodlanders continued onward, with Lefen explaining that his group had to move often in order to not get caught. Originally, they had camped out in a hidden sandy beach near the River Moss, but soon they found themselves near a small valley near a set of large cliffs, The valley was blocked off by a massive tree, with a single noticeable cave dipping down the cliff's side. Lefen recognized it, pointing through the thick underbrush giving out one single silent word to his companions. "Home."

The cave was found by one of Lefen's scouts and he personally had checked it out. It was decided this would be their next, and hopefully permanent, base of operations in order to avoid Markem's sight. As they came up to the massive broken tree, there was a deafening silence. Lefen bounded up the side of the tree and let down a hidden rope so his companions could climb up it. It was a slow process, but it did prevent wandering vermin or strange travelers from just discovering the cave. Lefen had to be careful in those kinds of instances. Once inside the valley, sloping more towards the high cliffs above and the large cave off in the distance, the three bounded towards it. Lefen expected a camp in the valley, but as they made their way towards the cave, they came across a large makeshift wooden door blocking it. The squirrel, the curiosity getting the better of him, knocked on it.

A sudden jolt of shuffling was heard on the other side with a voice speaking out, mostly frightened "Who be that? Tis just me, a humble hermit! Go away if ye are a nasty beasty!"

Lefen couldn't help but chuckle "Tis not, for it is me. Lefen. Open up Barkat." The door opened to reveal a happy and older hedgehog, with a youngster between his legs. The hedgehog had not been more happy to see the squirrel in his life, hugging him and whirling him around as he brough the group inside. Barkat's son Bapa ran past the group and down into the cave, where Lefen could see lights. The hedgehog showed the group inside as they went down the halls, but Barkat was swift to notice a lack of company.

"Where be Streamwaddle? The Hares? Did they not escape with you?"

"No. I was lucky to escape at all, believe it or not. I will explain as much as I can once we get everyone settled. What about you folk? I see you all have been busy."

"Yes, we scavenged a lot in the area, built ourselves a nice storage of food, handed out rations and all that. However our food supply is low. We half expected you dead when the others came back, telling us Markem put you in a cage. I knew you would return of course, but just in case, we did plan out a rescue for you. If it makes you feel any better."

"It does, but I fear it may have been pointless or too risky. Do the others know our plan failed then?"

Barkat sighed sadly "Yes. Kind of. We don't know the details. I had hoped you would have returned with better news. Streamwaddle's missus been worried sick an' holden her pups like a mad beast with worry. What be of the fates of him and the hares?"

"Markem, in his infinite mercy and wisdom returned Streamwaddle to slavery, but not before lashing him." Lefen sarcastically said, but his sarcasm came off as quite hateful which Barkat was quick to notice. "And the Long Patrol?"

"Markem killed one, the other was dragged away without a shred of dignity. Scarl got to him it looks like. Poor beast must of spilled a lot of beans if that wretched torturer let him live. Removed an ear and a bit more." Barkat gasped in shock. He had met the two hares, they were decently experienced enough, but to know that even the wretched vermin Scarl could break them did not fill the hedgehog with confidence.

"What about our other two? Former captives?"

"No, they come from one of the villages I had to visit before I came here. We got extra beds for them?"

The hedgehog turned to the two mice and pointed as a small hole in the cave covered by a wooden door that they were passing by "You'll find some empty beds in there, lay your packs and join us in the main hall. You'll find it down in here."

"Main Hall?" Lefen questioned.

Lefen and Barkat came into a large opening, one which Lefen had not even seen before. It was a large and extended opening, with several moles still working on it in the background, while several cooks were making the afternoon rations. Many of the woodlanders in the hall, mostly relaxing looked up to see Lefen. The room itself dipped into a cup, with a large overhanging rock roof, held up by the mountain itself, with several rocky corridors going to other rooms such as a kitchen, additional barracks, storage, and a small workshop. Most of the woodlanders came to greet Lefen, happy and jubilant of his return. No other beast was happier to see him then Lefen's wife and children who rushed past the crowd. Hulma, covered in a cloth cap and in an old filthy dress rushed to him and hugged the squirrel tightly.

"Lefen, you rascal, you wretch an' rascal! I thought you were a goner! I thought-" Lefen cut her off and calmed her "Nay, Markem couldn't keep me for long. We must hold council, for there is a lot to explain, and not a lot of time to explain it in. All of Mossflower could be in danger!"
_

Barkat, Lefen, and Hulma entered into a small room, in which awaited a large badger and Lefen's informal captain Loudaxe. Loudaxe is a woodsman by trade, and his large hatchet was softly in the corner of the rocky meeting room. He awaited patiently as Lefen gathered his closest leaders in the room, explaining to them what had happened in what details he could provide. There was a silence in the room, with Loudaxe speaking up in anger. "So Markem finally did it, eh? He finally united every warlord and vermin gang in the east! That rat is going to burn, kill, and enslave all of Mossflower, and will have an entire army to back him up every step of the way."

Barkat spoke up, with fright in his voice "How do we stand against such a force? Even the Long Patrol failed, with our help, to kill Markem. Now we have foxes raiding and pillaging the settlements?" Barkat paced about the room. He may have been second only to Lefen, but he was easily spooked. Lefen tried to calm his friend, but had very little to say.

"Markem doesn't seem to be bothered by us as much as other issues. However, this little coalition of warlords is already falling at the seams and we can exploit that. The rat Luzgot and his horde wishes to meet with us, and I think we can exploit it."

Loudaxe snarled "Luzgot?! That wretch is worse than Markem by a long shot. He and his evil father pillaged the eastern coasts, and enslaved and murdered many creatures I used to call friends. Let him rot like the fool he is."

"Aye, he may be worse then Markem by some standard of vermin, and I know that. Yet, we need to tear Markem's horde apart, and I doubt neither Jusbrag's warlord or the water rats which murdered the mice of Veekun's Burrow are willing to talk. Markem will leave on a campaign in a few weeks or even less."

"What exactly do we even have to offer?" Hulma interrupted "Lefen, we don't have a lot of weapons, most of the creatures out there are using branches and clubs. It is just as likely that he will want us to work for him as laborers or worse, which I don't have to remind you is not exactly what many of these creatures want to return to."

Lefen knew this well, many of his followers were former slaves he had rescued. His valiant raids in helping the peoples of eastern Mossflower was squashed by Markem's relentless success in both the battlefield and diplomacy, and many were heavily demoralized. He had to personally stop Streamwaddle's missus and her youngsters from packing up and returning to Gholand to bring some comfort to her husband and reunite their family, an awkward conversation which had left him quite demoralized himself. Lefen angrily slapped the table "If we are to survive, we need weapons, and Luzgot is our only avenue. We'll meet him, hear him out, and if he is planning a coup we'll encourage him. In the chaos, we will make our move. We will free the slaves Markem has taken, and we will drive creatures like Zangan and Luzgot out!"

"I'll join you, but I still don't like it."

"Luzgot is the future threat, Loudaxe. Markem is the current one. If we can get those two to kill one another, we can begin the process of getting everyone free." The group agreed on the spot, and were ready to make their move.

---

Gazla and Snackfur took their contingent far off, pretending to Markem's curious captains that they were a meager hunting party. Snackfur and Gazla were out into the country of eastern Mossflower, following small paths and streams as they went, with Gazla often encouragingly looking behind and motivating the troop "Hurry along ya slacknosed, bully mongers! We'z got a long way to Great Marsh. . .right Snackfur?"

Snackfur waved his paw to the side "Aye, Gazla. Try not to be announcin our presence to all of Mossflower, eh?"

Gazla happily agreed and hummed a vermin tune, giving Snackfur a very rare grin. Gazla was a strange one, a newer captain he had been teaching since she joined Luzgot. Her surname was Cheesethief, which Snackfur wouldn't have normally cared for until Luzgot revealed to him why he had promoted her at all. Luzgot may not have looked it, but he was 'well read', at least by vermin standards, and once heard that the long dead and infamous Cluny the Scourge had a captain named Cheesethief. Luzgot had automatically assumed Gazla was either a descendent of that captain, although from knowing her well enough, that wasn't much the case. Gazla may have claimed rather publicly she had 'captain's blood' in her veins, and even invoked the spectre of Cluny when she could, but she herself was just another dumb and vicious rat like he was.

The two came across a stream they would have to cross, keeping closer to the coast if they could. As the vermin went to quickly drink or clean themselves, Gazla spotted something off on the otherside of the stream.

"Snackfur! Look. Is dat be tracks? Otter, eh?"

Snackfur squinted his eyes, the tracks was a large paw for a much larger beast. It wasn't webbed which Snackfur was quick to remind Gazla "No, you dip brained buffoon. Otter tracks be webbed. That look more like a fox's. Look at's the paw print an' size." Gazla only gave a low nod and looked around.

"Maybe a vermin hole be out here? Recruit, eh?"

"Not our business. I'd rather be off to Great Marsh an' meetin Parb as quickly as possible. I be hearin foxes from some ol' dumb tribe be stalkin up to Markem. We's best be off if we can."

The group crossed the river, Snackfur thinking to himself as they went. Maybe I should have sent a scout ahead. Last thing I need is getting myself killed or captured. Foxes be trickesters an' thieves, but just as cowardly if they see a nice big contingent of vermin at me side!

Gazla and Snackfur didn't get very far, as they bounded through the brush and soon found sabres to their necks. Several foxes, cleverly hidden in the nearby bushes had drawn their weapons, all in red and purple turbans. One of the foxes came forward, a large female in a corsair's purple cap. "Whacha'z we got here? Another group of wretched Hordebeasts from the weak'z Markem an'z his Great Vermin'z circus?"
_

The foxes led Gazla, Snackfur, and their party through the brush, having bound their paws and taken their weapons. Snackfur couldn't help but give a vast array of curses as he swore and mumbled through the gag stuffed in his mouth. Scouts. I should have brought a damn scout! Gazla looked on worried and frightened as the foxes harshly prodded their prisoners along, led by the larger female. Eventually the group found themselves in a distant clearing, with many setup tents and yurts, the tribe of foxes banging drums and their women dancing in a party atmosphere. Far off from civilization, the tribe seemed entirely content with their existence, the nomads celebrating the valiant return of their leader.

Gazla and Snackfur were signaled out from the group as they walked down a gauntlet of cheering foxes who were going about their business. They had brought many curiosities from across the sea, many drinking a foreign and eastern wine with abandon. Several woodlander slaves miserably sat around cooking fires, watched over by bloodthirsty taskmasters as fox cubs played their games around them. Snackfur saw one of the foxes had tied a ferret by a rope leash to a stake in the ground, some of the warriors taking turns kicking and beating the creature in some kind of cruel game. This terrified Gazla especially, as one fox simply came up to the beaten creature and slammed paws down on him, hearing the unmistaken crack of bones.

"Do'z worry, me laddies. Ye'z will be good puppet'z fer me warrior'z to practice on soon enough'z." The fox maiden smiled. The group came up to a central tent, a massive yurt where several foxes were lounging. Zangan, leader of his tribe, lounged about as one of his wives fed him grapes. The other two sat across from each other, sitting comfortably and were discussing local affairs until the fox lady pulled her prisoners to Zangan. Their guards forced Snackfur and Gazla to kneel, undoing their gags harshly.

"Ah, My'z pretty Zagala! Me bestest'z wife, an'z bestest mother of me babes! Ya'z bring me gifts to cheer'z me up I see?"

Zagala nearly leaped upon her husband and nuzzled him tightly, lounging at his side. "Aye'z. Dee'z two an'z der lot be Markem'z. Shall'z I have em' strung up fer'z your amusement, me love'z?"

"Wait!" Gazla squeaked "Wes not with the Great Vermin Band, we are Luzgot captains!"

"And Luzgot'z is a servant of Markem'z." One of the foxes pointed out, a larger fox with many battle scars. He carried a large sabre and a small armory of knives on his person, covered head to toe in strange and foreign tattoos of vermin make. His belt was filled with both vermin and woodlander skulls. Zangan took up a pitcher of wine and drank decadently of it, slopping onto his fur and face. "You'z be correct, Barlov. Luzgot be no better'z a slave of Markem as'z dey gentle beast'z an' weaklings I raid from the like'z of Markem'z horde." Zangan got up and dusted himself off, coming forward to face the two rat captains. Snackfur tried to explain in desperation "Luzgot not be loyal! Let us go, fox, or face Luzgot's wrath!"

"Wrath'z? Ha! As if I fear one rat'z over a fox, ya'z flea bitten scrounger. Me tribe be the strongest, fastest, most'z brutal in all ze east! Gentle beasts an'z vermin alike run in fear of me horde. Markem'z an'z easy prey, his horde weak an' gentle like spikepig babe'z. When'z I am done with the like'z of him, I'll be the only warlord here'z in dis here forest worth the time of der'z vermin, an' I'll make'z a home for me an'z me kin on top of dat'z rat grave!"

One of the smaller foxes meekly spoke up, drinking cautiously of a wine pitcher himself and was as dressed (although not as royally) as his superior. "Brother Zagan, maybe'z we'z should spare em'z. Hear em'z out. If dey'z were Markem'z, dey be spittin bravely in yer'z face, if ya last recall."

Zangan turned to the fox and smiled "Ye'z also be right, brother Stukan." The fox thought it out and had a brilliant idea, looking down at his prisoners "Luzgot be against Markem'z ya says? Why should'z I believe ya?"

Snackfur looked up and sniffed "If ya don't harm me or me companions, we's will tell ya, might even invite ya on in. We were headin to Great Marsh to meet with the mink Parb. Ya know of her?"

"Aye, I raided her shipments of silver once. Sent'z an entire platoon of her warrior'z after me, an'z died miserably."

Dammit. This bandit be raidin Parb as well? Damn bush tailed wretch. Oh well, its either we get to Great Marsh, or we end up dead beasts! Snackfur attempted to stand up, but one of his guards pushed him down again and harshly pushed a sabre to his throat. Zangan gave a cruel smile and bent down "If'z ya wishes to speak, speak'z to yer better'z from down there rat."

"Fine. If ya spare me, we will be headin to Great Marsh to bring Parb an' her horde to our side. To meet an' speak with me chief. Only if ya spare me and me hearties, mate."

"Why yer mates? They'd make'z good practice fer me warriors. My tribe values strength above all else, an'z what one take'z dey keeps! Ya should be beggin me good lovin mate Zagala fer yer freedom'z."

Snackfur played along, practically begging to the fox lady lounging about, amused by the spectacle of her husband treating her. She played with the idea and spoke out "Perhap'z yer brother be right, me dear. Let'z grant em'z der freedom. . .an'z travel to Great Marsh together, us an'z the entire tribe. If'z dey be true, we'z set em' free. If dey'z be false, we'l cut an' gore em'z"

Zangan laughed, taking out his sabre and expertly cutting Gazla and Snackfur's bonds. He sat back down, motioning for them to join as if nothing happened. "You will'z stay an'z keep yer word, rat. You'z will take us to Great Marsh an'z prove yer words! I look'z forward to meetin Luzgot an' Parb of now, see'z if they be worthy me attention. Bring out more grapes, an' wine!"
_

Within a single morning, the entire tribe of foxes had been packing up with Gazla and Snackfur getting to know them better. From Zangan's wild tales and foreign dances of his wives, the fox came across the sea as a raider, and made his home on the coast. The tribe was successful at raiding, but increasingly bumped up against Markem himself, most of it unintentional, and Zangan found Markem to be wanting. They had never met, but Zangan despised Markem's horde with a passion, viewing them as non-vermin like, non-ruthless, and easy pickings for his horde. He relied on his nomadic lifestyle to evade Markem's garrisons, picking at the borders for loot. However, in recent years, Zangan had been taking on slaves, not primarily because he wanted slaves, but because it annoyed and frustrated Markem.

Zangan's tribe numbered around 400-600 beasts, although most were warriors and hunters. All of them were foxes of Zangan's breed, with a mixture of slaves and prisoners strung about. It was clear to Snackfur that being Zangan's slave was a better option than being his prisoner. Most of the slaves were shifted around to help pack up tents and were owned by specific families, most being former slaves in Markem's horde or captured from his tributary villages. The vermin prisoners simply awaited a brutal death. Most were scouts, wanderers, or vermin who had sympathies. All were forced to watch as their comrades were used for practice by the fox warriors of the tribe. Others would be brought before Zagan himself to hear their pleas for mercy, and cut down to show off his skill with a sword.

The tribe itself was strange to Snackfur, as most were undisciplined but very skilled warriors, most had families of their own and were as diligent if not more so than any of Markem's vermin. Most wore the ornate robes and even would occasionally speak in a variety of languages he didn't understand. One of the seers of the tribe he observed was giving a fox warrior a tattoo, while youngsters hovered around an older female with a crystal orb and predicting their futures. The tribes was up and moving within a hour, breaking down their yurts and marching with Zangan, their ruthless leader. They sang and yelped as they traveled.

"We'z sailed across yonder'z sea, with sword an'z pike which belong to me

We brought to ye yonder shore, ze blood of true fox galore

Ruthless, battle scarred, an filled with zeal

We'z bring the sword to make our enemies kneel

We dance till the day be done, an'z drink our fill till the sun be set

We'z free as can be, till our days be done

Bring yer sword an' bring yer'z axe

An'z fight em an'z stab em in der backs!"

Gazla and Snackfur cringed as the foxes sang, their companions not faring much better. The group continued onward, with a surprising pace. Snackfur had always wondered why Zagan was able to avoid Markem's wrath for so long. The foxes could easily move, and had a decent supply. They would occasionally send out a raiding party or two to gather food and drink, but they were fairly content with their already collected spoils. The horde, even if spotted by Markem's garrisons, did not have enough vermin to properly engage them, and likely Markem's full host would have been too slow and inexperienced to catch up. Zagan had also something which Snackfur didn't, and something he wanted, which were pairs of very good scouts. His wife, Zagala would always move ahead of the tribe and swiftly gather information. Before they knew it, they were heading into the marshes.

"Great Marsh'z be more den'z a name, i take'z it?" Zagan asked Snackfur, who was cautiously marching to his side. The rat nodded and looked about "Parb lives in an old wild cat fort on the edge of the river, it be on a island on the river itself. Hard to miss."

The foxes who had been moving like ghosts in the wind soon came to a brutal crawl. Zagan tried to keep the foxes in check, but the tribe miserably went through the swamps and bogs. Whenever they got up onto land, they soon found themselves sliding back into low water. Gazla motioned them to keep close to the shore of the River Moss, as it prevent them from drowning. It was here Snackfur discovered another curiosity of the tribe, how quick they were to abandon dying comrades. Zagan was ruthless, but so was most of his tribe. One creature would being sinking into the bog, desperately trying to hang on, and was mocked by his comrades. One of Snackfur's companions tried to help one up, only to be pulled in himself and had to be saved by Gazla.

"Any weakness be a detriment to me'z tribe, an'z cannot be standed wit it! Leave'z those cowards who dont'z have the mind to keep themselve'z alive." Zagan sneered at them, watching in utter contempt as the saved tribesbeast quickly returned to a higher ground. Snackfur was quick to question this "How'd ya even have a tribe if ye treat yer own like that?"

"Tiz simple, me'z father and his were'z like that, an'z if i was a dumb beast like me'z brothas and sistas, I'z be a dead beast. Dead beasts don't help'z the tribe, an'z dumb beasts who get themselves captured or'z slain on der own accord will endanger us all. I am the best swordsbeast of the tribe, an'z as right I rule it without the'z need fer mercy to such wretchez."

Snackfur couldn't help but be horrified by the fox's nihilistic statement, but he supposed if their system worked for them, it didn't matter. Luzgot would kill them last most likely anyway, and the fox's general attitude was very anti-diplomatic to work in anything else except brutal strength. Even Snackfur knew that strength alone does not defeat armies like that of Markem's, and Luzgot knew this as well. It was why he was meeting Parb to start with.

The tribe eventually spotted Great Marsh in the long off distance, a large and ancient keep in disrepair which sat in a wide berth of the River Moss. The ancient fortress's history remained unknown to most, with what was known was that it used to be a distant border fort which had kept invading vermin from the eastern sea at bay when the Greeneyes ruled. It was eventually abandoned when they were defeated, and was left in disrepair up until Parb's grandfather arrived with a Mink-led horde and occupied it. The ruin itself was lacking a roof, much of the stone that remained was in a ceaseless state of disrepair and strewn around a makeshift settlement in the barely visible ground below, hobbled together with wood collected by a logging camp nearby. There were two ways to get into the ruined keep, which was by two log bridges which could be swiftly cut in case of an emergency, like say a large horde of fox bandits coming along the side of a fort.

Zangan and his tribe didn't have even a moment of time before the horde inside the keep cut the ropes to their log bridge, allowing it to float away out into the sea. From the palisade around the fortress, a group of vermin minions watched from the walls of their fort as the fox bandits began to make camp on the shore line. Snackfur came forward, trying to wave and call out to Parb's horde, but to no avail.

"Dey'z cowards fer'z hidin behind der wall. Smart'z beasts to not trust me tribe I suppose." Zangan thought out loudly. Snackfur added to his comments "The horde itself is fairly small, an' Parb herself is very stingy on her wealth. Dat mink won't allow us to get in unless we's got her trust."

"Den'z think of somethin quickz, rat. I do not wait fer'z long." Zangan sneered. He was more angry at the fact he could not siege down Parb's fortress, even with the information that her horde was lacking. The fox scouts scoured about, with Parb's horde manning the walls of their lower palisade, but the foxes began to receive a nasty surprise when several arrows launched far off and landed at the feet of several in the camp. Zangan was caught off guard with that trick and Gazla yelled out "They have longbows! Take cover!" Gazla hit into the mud, and realized none of them moved. Snackfur got her up and brushed her off.

"Gazla ya fool, those be warnin shots. They won't start firin on us formal like in a couple hours. I thinks I got a plan, but it be risky. I need a boat, an' quick like."

Zangan snapped and spoke to a captain. A moment later, the foxes were soon fixing up a single and simple log from a tree and floated it in the water. Zangan nimbly edged himself on top of it, and expected the two rat captains to come on "Well'z? Ya'z comin? What'z be next."

"Tis not a boat, fox! Tis a log!" Gazla tried to explain, but Zangan angrily drew his blade and weaved it around "It'z floats, rat!"

Snackfur shoved his co-captain onto the log and pushed themselves off. Zangan half-suspected the rat's plan already as they pulled close to the edge of the wooden palisade. Snackfur called up on the vermin archers, waving his paws. "Tis me, Captain Snackfur an's Captain Gazla! We's be captains of Luzgot of Luzland! We come in peace, mates! Let us in, I must speak with yer chief!"

Gazla got a look at Great Marsh's vermin, which confounded her another sizable culture shock. Most of Great Marsh's vermin consisted of older creatures, most wearing a mixture of gray scarfs and bandannas, with the more armored guards having silver chokers. Parb's vermin looked fairly disciplined, a lot more than the rabble she had been commanding. The vermin looked down as one spoke out "Luzgot, eh? What he want, and why is that bandit with you! Speak up Snackfur of Luzland, or perish in the river!"

"We's be his guests, and he wishes to speak to Parb as well, tis of vital import!"

The vermin spoke to each other and one of them disappeared. Gazla and Snackfur paddled the log close as Zangan looked up without having moved a single muscle, giving his villanous grin as he folded his paws and huffed out. Eventually a single mink looked down at Zangan and his 'guests' and sneered. It was a younger male Mink who huffed out himself, insulted and dismayed.

"You dare bring that thief and wretch to Great Marsh! I should have you all shot! Yet, my sister says to let you in, along with your 'party' or whatever that means. We shall send out proper boats, but you will be respectful in Great Marsh, or perish!"
_

The three paddled back to shore, as from a nearby pier in the ruined fort, three boats rowed out. Zangan gathered a special party in case things went wrong, primarily armed with short daggers and throwing axes. In a quick and deadly spot, they could be useful against the enclosed spaces. Despite the vermin on the boats demanding that Zangan dropped his arms, the fox refused and practically pushed around the vermin pilots like slaves and awaited for Snackfur and Gazla with impatient brooding. Seeing the fox had not dropped his weapons as ordered, Snackfur felt confident, and didn't himself. Gazla followed suit as the group gathered their small host and was ferried across into Great Marsh.

The vermin settlement was very small, mostly consisting of a single barracks and some support buildings. As the group walked up into the main keep itself via a stone stairway which led to a doorless gate, the group would pass along several large boxes containing ingots of silver and stone brick. The group was being shepherded by the mink who had talk to them earlier, chastising them every step of the way.

"Only a few of you will see Parb at once, your hosts will stay out here, under heavy guard! The fact you think you can just waltz into Great Marsh bearing so many weapons dumbfounds me. You should be lucky my archers didn't kill you when I had the chance. Do not touch our silver, fox! That is a gift to Markem's horde."

The fox snarled, but kept his calm. As they entered into the main castle grounds, whose interior had collapsed in on itself a long time ago, the group came across a massive pit in the ground which sloped far inwards. Several wooden platforms were scattered around, with a large series of holes and caverns strewn across. Screams and pained cries came from heavily shackled slaves who miserably mined for silver in the pit below, with several taskmasters keeping a very close watch on them. The shadow of a much larger beast loomed beyond in one cavern, with one of the slaves desperately crawling towards the sunlight, only to be yanked by their chains by the beastial being back into the mines. It gave the fox a rare shiver of fear.

"Come, or you three will join them. Bring the younger vermin you had brought along as well, rat." The mink snapped at Snackfur. The captain raised an eyebrow "Why?"

"Do as you are told, or else."

Snackfur called up six of the younger vermin who had traveled with them, who followed along quietly. Gazla turned to Snackfur unsure "Something feels wrong, sir. I can feels it in me bones!"

Snackfur didn't answer back. He was here to collect Parb, and Snackfur obeyed his warlord without question. The group began climbing the ruined stone stairs into an old tower in the far off distance which overlooked the pits below.

When the group entered, they found a beautiful living quarter mixed in with the vermin dwellings of a makeshift palace room. Several smaller rooms and corridors were made into makeshift rooms for a kitchen, storage, toiletry, dining area, and other accessories. The main 'living room' was made from the ruins of a tower, covered in white silk cloth which hung from poles to make a half decent roof. It was surrounded and stuffed with various treasures, rugs, and pillows of various colors, the rainbow of loot. Parb herself sat on the far end, sipping from her goblet, dressed in a royal finery befitting of any warlord, with several guards surrounding her. Several gentle woodlanders silently served her, her personal servants in fine white tunics. Most were older beasts who dropped their heads in shame as they slavishly did their tasks, with a single squirrel kneeling in front of her, laden in heavy chains.

The mink who had led them stopped the group as Parb sipped of her gobblet and spoke to the captive in front of her. "Ah, so if I understand this right, you came all the way from the eastern cliffs just to find your son? Quite a journey I'd imagine."

The squirrel didn't move, looking up in anger and spat "Yes. You and your slaving band kidnapped him. Let him go or suffer, wretch."

Parb was amused, sipping her drink. "Quite unfortunate. I will give you one mercy, squirrel, since you did fail to even kill one of my guards. You can be chained with your son in the mines, and you can churn our silver ore together. Guards, take this beast away." The squirrel was dragged off, cursing and ranting as he did. Parb beckoned the new group forward as she lazily moved her paw to a mouse maiden who poured her some wine.

"Ah. You must be Luzgot's captain." Parb looked behind them at the six younger vermin shifting nervously. Snackfur came forward and gave a low bow "Yes. . .how did you know?"

"You will know soon enough. I half suspected your chief not even pay up, let alone send a captain to visit me."

"Two captains, mam!" Gazla pointed out. Zangan looked annoyed and came forward, mocking her by pulling his paws on his hips. "Two'z fools an a true chief, an'z the only one in diz room!"

"You dare!" The male mink shouted, but Parb silenced him with a raised paw. "My dear brother, Goba. Do be kind of my guests, especially our new bandit friend here. Zangan is it? Quite a specimen Luzgot brought me."

"I'z bring meself, mink. De'z two broughtz me here. Whatever'z you an' Luzgot are doin to bring down Markemz, I want in."

Parb stopped sipping her drink and stared "Bringing down Markem? Intriguing. Is that what brings you here, rats?"

Snackfur couldn't help wildly curse in his head, the fox's impatience was revealing information left and right. Yet the captain gave a defeated sigh and nodded "Aye, me lord wishes to meet with ye. Luzgot got a plan to take down Markem, an dis fox brought us here as. . .company. Before ye ask, I don't know the plan, but it be Luzgot we speak of, an ya know it be a good plan!"

Parb didn't comment and sipped her drink. "I see. I am to join in a coup I know little about to support a cause to bring down a warlord we had just sworn to? Last I remember, the last plan Luzgot had to kill Markem didn't end well. Most attempts on his life tend to do that, you know. Luzgot still hasn't paid me back for the poison I made for him, at least, not yet anyway."

Zangan smiled "Ya'z tried to poison Markem? Devilish."

"I didn't. Luzgot did. Important difference, for in both cases I still win one way or the other, dear fox. Your raids on my caravans are quite annoying, but you seem confident enough at least. I imagine you are getting into this little plot as well?"

"Ayez! Dis little coalition sounds dangerous, risky, an'z filled with the possibility of loot an'z plunder! I'm considerin it, but it be depend'z on dis plan."

"Agreed." Parb motioned her guards who quickly rushed and grabbed onto the vermin who had been previously disarmed. Gazla looked on horrified as the younger vermin were slapped in chains and called out in fright "Captain! Captain! Help! Betrayal! Murder!"

Snackfur nearly drew his sword, but was stopped by Goba. Parb explained in a bored voice "Now that Luzgot has paid his debts in new slaves for my mines, I was hoping he would have at least delivered them himself. I am guessing he got shafted by Markem taking away his gentle beasts again, I see."

"You let them go!" Gazla yelled out. Snackfur quickly got back into reality after the shock, silencing her and trying to comfort her as the last of the vermin were pulled off to a gruesome fate. "Forget em. They be gone already. Stay focused on the task on our paws, Gazla." Gazla was having second thoughts, as Parb motioned them "I will send Goba in my stead to meet with Luzgot. If he is impressed with what he hears of Luzgot's plan, I will help him where I can. Markem is quite an interesting, intriguing warlord. However, he is also dangerous. He strong armed me into joining his Great Vermin Band, and now eyes my mine with malicious intent to 'change' things to be more like his own. So much for brotherly approval. Markem's destruction does sound quite interesting, especially if Luzgot can pull it off, but I must hear his genius plan first before I commit. His last plan failed quite miserably, and thank goodness his spymaster doesn't study poisons as much as I do."

Zangan grunted "Also'z agreed. Me tribe shall move towards Luzland, an' yer brat shall join us. Now. Let us be off!"

The group left the room as Parb snapped her paws. Goba came to her side, the mink having his face lightly touched by his elder sister. Parb ordered him, her voice going from soft to harsh "You best tell me everything that Luzgot says to you, every detail I must know. I will send Danza with you just in case. If his plan is as stupid and foolish as I think it will be, we must warn Markem and gain his favor. If it is decent, listen intently and nod your stupid head."

"I will not fail you my dear sister." Goba said nervously. Cause one day, my dear sister, you will die and I shall rule Great Marsh alone.

---

Lefen and his party were getting ready to head out, consisting of Loudaxe and several other volunteers. They had divided up the weapons they still had, which were several stolen kitchen knives, a single branch made into an improper wooden spear, and a length of chain used by one of the freed slaves as a weapon. Lefen had at least been able to regain his dignity by claiming a green tunic and cloth pants, and outfitting himself in light armor for his trip, carrying a hatchet and a bundle of javilents he had carved the night before. Loudaxe was perhaps the only creature most prepared, the badger leaned on his wood axe like a hawk. Before the group could leave, Lefen's missus came out with their vittles, followed closely by Lefen's childish gaggle of runts; Leav, Letm, and Loaha. The childish squirrels were practically climbing all over their father, asking him a barrage of questions.

"Yous goin to beat up dos vermin, pa?"

"Yours bringin back vittles, right?"

"Wheres your goin, pa?"

"Can we go out an play in the stream, is that where you goin?"

Lefen couldn't answer them all and let down his youngest, Letm, onto the ground. "I'll be back shortly, we are going out to help more good beasts, and hopefully ourselves. Come you lot, get to attention and behave why don't you." The young squirrels all gave a collective and depressive "Auhhhhhh" and found themselves climbing down and were soon near climbing over their mother to get at the food she brought.

"Little demons! You have already eaten, these goodies be for your father and his company." Hulma gave a large knapsack of cooked nuts and some hard bread to Lefen, and quickly carried Leav into her paws and tickled him lightly. Kissing her husband goodbye, she looked on sadly as Lefen and his gang were climbing over the massive tree wall which blocked the valley, and into the wilds. She feared for their lives and wondered if this had all been a clever trap by a vermin warlord. Luzgot is vicious, ruthless, and evil in the eyes of any good beast. Her fears were quickly put aside as Loudaxe loudly complained

"Lefen, if Luzgot does try something fishy, I'll cut him in two, along with his entire horde."

"Hopefully that won't be necessary. I'm glad you are joining us. Now do be careful getting down, stripe dog. This ledge can. . ." There was a thus and crack on the other side, followed by a short and annoyed pained yelp. Hulma could have guessed what happened as she shepherded her youngsters back inside. "Come you lot, you can play your games with the other children. Don't want to attract too much attention out here."

Leav asked his mum, his eyes looking around at the dense woodlands which surrounded them "When do you think we can go home, ma?"

"When your father bullies those lot of evil beasts from Mossflower I am certain."
_

The journey to Luzland was not an easy trip for the likes of Lefen and his company, passing by villages they once thought safe and far away from Markem's sights were soon flying the distinctive brown flag. Loudaxe nearly walked into a vole settlement he had traded the last of his stock of wood too for food and water when they moved into the area, only for Lefen to quickly pull him back and point out several squirrels in rope collars building a ditch along the edge of the settlement, followed very shortly by several rat guards keeping watch. The paw of Markem was reaching out over far eastern Mossflower, with Loudaxe angrily gritting his fangs.

"Why doesn't the Long Patrol, if their name even be that, patrol out here? You'd think this threat deserved their attention."

Lefen shook his head "It did, but from what the hares told us, they just don't have enough bodies. Apparently there is another warlord gathering strength in the south, and they spent a lot of time building up their armies in Salamandastron. Whatever Tussock has is what we can rely on. Which isn't much. Not even a single Long Patrol hare can take on this lot."

Loudaxe gathered the group and pushed them forward beyond, as they avoided vermin patrols. Lefen had, over the years, been able to observe how Markem set up his horde, guessing where his vermin would set up outposts and send out scouts. Using this information, he was able to better avoid their gaze, but they still ran into issues. Lefen accidently led the group directly face first into a weasel scout who was lazily trying to take a nap, the newly promoted creature begged for his life before Loudaxe swiftly brought his axe down on the poor creature. The others were shocked at this, but the badger quickly turned to them.

"Bury the body and the blood. Quickly. If we had knocked him out, he would have awoken to tell his friends. We don't want to be seen, so if a vermin spots us, kill him quickly before they can give away our position." The group did as ordered and were back on their way again. Loudaxe had a lot of issues with vermin, more so than most badgers. Lefen knew his friend had not only lost his wife to a vermin attack on his camp, but they had temporarily stolen his daughter and tried to take her back to Gholand. Loudaxe had hardened his heart to killing vermin, all for the sake of keeping his daughter safe, and his anger toward Markem's vermin only grew as many of those he knew were now either Markem's serfs or his slaves.

The group eventually came across Luzland, which wasn't exactly hard to find. The vermin fortress however had some new additions to it, with a bustling vermin training camp outside of it. It was in the mid afternoon when they arrived, so the group waited for night before making their advance. Loudaxe was the first to complain "So, how are they supposed to know we are here? Those vermin down there don't look like Luzgot's. Too healthy."

"Luzgot did try to murder Markem, so likely our dear hated rat sent a force to keep him line. No wonder he wants to meet with us."

One of the rebels came forward, peaking their nose out of the bushes "You think Luzgot has any slaves still trapped in there, I don't want to even touch that wretch if he holds good beasts in chains."

"Agreed." Loudaxe replied. Lefen nodded "We'll free them, it'll be our first demand." The group had remained hidden, looking for a means to get in. However, the group soon spotted a pair of figures approaching the southern side of the wall, where the keep of Luzland met its wall. In the shadow of the keep, the pair looked to be climbing a rope, and struggling to get up it. Lefen went a bit closer, trying to listen in and looking rather surprised to hear Luzgot's voice calling up to a struggling ferret who was finding it difficult to climb.

"How are ya strugglin that much Garzlo! You are climin a rope! Just get up it, or you'll be sleepin down here in the ditch!"

Lefen motioned his group forward. He had a plan of his own, a bit risky, but worth it if done right. After all, negotiations are best done when it's one sided. Lefen softly stepped up to Luzgot, his hatchet in paw, and approached like a wraith in the dark. Luzgot didn't notice, his eyes transfixed on Garzlo who was still struggling to climb the rope in the dark. Luzgot noticed barely in time when he found a hatchet to his throat and the squirrel's paw covering his mouth. He struggled a bit, but as the axe came closer, he whimpered rather pathetically. Garzlo stopped and was befuddled for a minute, realizing his chieftain had stopped throwing insults of death at him. He looked around timely, only for Loudaxe to harshly pull on the rope and he fell head first into the ground with a soft thud.

Luzgot silently called out to his new found captors, cowardly begging and pleading "Tell Markem I didn't mean it! I am but a loyal servant, ya see! Don't harm me!" Lefen pulled Luzgot back into the brush silently as Luzgot slowly realized these were not Scarl's thugs. Garzlo was picked up by Loudaxe and taken along. The two vermin sat in front of an easily disappointed Lefen. Luzgot shook himself off as he was let go, regaining his former dignity as a cruel and ruthless warlord of Luzland.

"Ye must be Lefen I takes it, ya be lucky me horde be far off or all of Luzland would have brought ya in chains before me, the mighty warlord of Luzland! Ya stand before Luzgot, tyrant and master of the far east coast!"

"Tyrant and dead beast more like if you don't keep your snout shut." Loudaxe growled. Lefen dismissed the warlord as a coward, he knew Luzgot was a disaster of a warlord, an incompetent who had to murder his own father to even take control. "You freed me back in Gholand, and your pet ferret demanded I meet you here. So here I am, rat. Speak quickly while you still have a tongue."

"If ya harm me, ya won't be able to take down Markem." Luzgot kept his eyes on Lefen, sizing him up, while Garzlo frantically looked around at the angry former slaves. Garzlo kept himself bent to his lord and master, keeping himself hidden from the gaze of the large badger. Garzlo spoke out, trying to calm down the situation, and was swift to notice their poor weaponry.

"Look, my good and merciful lord Luzgot be on yer side, me friends an' allies. He has made a most ingenious plan to drive Markem out of Gholand and to destroy the Great Vermin Band. Just as you were as slaves to Markem once, we are all his servant in equal footing! My most glorious overlord wants nothing more then to help you lot, and as a good grace of his mercy, he even let the slaves of Luzland free! You will know that vermin be lighting their own torches, as you can see."

It was a bold lie, but Luzgot quickly played along "Yes, in my mercy I let the slaves of my fort free, for I am a good lord of this land! Markem, the tyrant he be, brought many back into slavery as soon as they left my fort and now linger in the camp, along with my captive vermin. I want nothing more then to see this land free of Markem and his brood."

Loudaxe wasn't buying it, looking to Lefen and hoping he wasn't buying it either "Can we really believe these vermin have our best intentions at heart? We are wasting our time, we should slay this wretch and be done with it. We'll take their weapons regardless."

"No. We aren't like vermin ourselves, my friend." Lefen quickly reminded him "We don't slay or torture our prisoners, nor enslave them. No matter your intentions Luzgot. What exactly do I play in this. . .plan of yours?"

Luzgot motioned him closely "You see mate, you are crucial to helping me sabotage an' slow Markem's armies. We need beasts like yer freed slaves to put strain on Markem's tributaries an' slow down his forces. I'll give ya food, weapons, whatever ye need to do damage to Markem, an in return, ya leave me and me plotters alone. Deal?"

Lefen shook his head "No deal, until I have your word you will not enslave any more gentle beasts, and once you are done, you will keep to your fort and stay there."

Luzgot snarled and nodded "Fine then, deal. Garzlo will empty our armory an' bring ya good weapons. Not like half me horde even need it anymore. Ain't that right, Garzlo."

The ferret captain nodded as Loudaxe patted the ferret's shoulder and held him close "You will give us our weapons now, in a cart, and we'll give your captain back in good peace. Think of it as a trade."

Garzlo looked to his chief who shrugged "Fine, give me till daybreak to round up me vermin. Till then, keep out of sight. If ya are caught with me, I will be forced to take less protective actions."

Lefen and Loudaxe waited, with Garzlo sitting alongside several of Lefen's company. It took a few hours, but Luzgot was able to climb up into his keep successfully and awake some members of his horde, gathering some weapons and supplies from his armory and barracks. He had it gathered in sacks and escorted his hordebeasts to the secret rope. They could not use the gate, since Markem's 'captains' still hounded it, keeping only a lazy eye on the warlord they thought was fairly tame. In the dark of the night, the vermin presented Lefen and Loudaxe with a large gaggle of weaponry, with Lefen looking over the mixture of quality. Some were warped swords, thrown away or stolen. Some were decent spears, also likely stolen. Others were axes, farm tools improvised as weapons, and small bundles of slinging rocks, repairing tools, and a bundle of rope. Loudaxe looked very disappointed, but Lefen looked on with a glint of hope. His rebels would at least have some weapons, and it was a start at least.

"For a vermin, at least you kept your word, so I will keep mine." Garzlo was let go by the badger who quickly came to Luzgot's side, hiding behind him. Luzgot spoke out to the rebels "Now. In order for this plan to work, timing must be perfect. You will know exactly when I strike, but it will be after Markem marches south with his armies, with me in tow. Garzlo will contact you when I require your assistance."

"I will?" Garzlo meekly asked. An annoyed glance from his chief silenced him as he spoke to them. "You will meet Garzlo as you see fit. Now I must return, to prepare for my other guests." Luzgot turned with his horde, leaving Garzlo with the group. The ferret meekly transferred some general information to Lefen, the two agreeing that Garzlo will drop instructions every 3 days by a scroll which he will drop from Luzland's walls. Garzlo spoke to Lefen with what little confidence he had, attempting to command him.

"Squirrel, before I left Gholand, I saw the fox captain Jarolom leave with a division of vermin northward. Normally I wouldn't care, but Jarolom is in Markem's inner circle, and whatever he is doing up there in the north is likely more than the usual recruiting. If you would be so kind, kill Jarolom and do so with some. . .secrecy. If ya can, be sure to not get into Scarl's sights."

"I'll consider it, but we must bring these weapons back to my group."

Loudaxe chimed in "We will do as we wish, vermin scum. Any particular reason why Jarolom or any other fox should concern us?"

"Not particularly, my good, scary, and very angry badger ally. Ya should know there be many slave caravans which haunt those regions, poking and prodding at the highland communities there. More then likely Jarolom is securing a nice deal for some new slaves for the campaign. . .or it could be something else entirely. Do tell me when you return." Garzlo was off, with Loudaxe snickering.

"That captain thinks he can command us."

"He is right, however. Whatever Jarolom is doing up there could be more bad news. If it hurts Markem, we should at least check it out."

"You aren't seriously considering it Lefen. Right?"

Lefen handed a new sword to one of his companions and sighed "We move out. Lets go fox hunting."

---

Gazla and Snackfur didn't find much alone time, trailing a sizable force behind them. However, Gazla looked visibly upset as they traveled through the forests and gales of eastern Mossflower, disheartened with each marching step. Snackfur looked at his co-captain who looked to be a pitiful state. He herded her along a general path towards the right of the marching group, joined on by Zangan's horde and Parb's envoys. Parb had sent her brother Goba at the head of 20 experienced vermin, with another creature which did not leave Goba's side. It was yet another mink and Parb's personal spymaster, Danza, who wore a gray hood and was covered head to toe in thick cloth. She bent herself in an almost permanent hunchback position, and often spoke with a sleek and motherly voice. Yet Snackfur knew all too well her natural treachery, a vile piece of work who was more there to keep an eye on Luzgot and their party, disguised as a meager servant.

Gazla sniffed and complained to her co-captain "I can' stop thinkin of our vermin, Snackfur. Our poor boys be in chains, in another horde. They trusted us, an's we gave em away like slave beasts! How's can Luzgot. . .our chief. . .do that to us?"

"Oh stop yer whinin, Gazla. This ain't the first or last time the chief does these things, an's was a fair trade fer that poison. It be but settlin debts." Snackfur hated the position he was in, defending an inexcusable action. His loyalty to Luzgot was to be a captain in a horde, and it ended at that. Snackfur missed the day when Luzgot's father still ruled, and was fair at least in part to him. He regretted not speaking up when Luzgot murdered the old warlord, and made himself into one himself, gaining the respect of him and other vermin captains who went along with it.

"The chief be just like that, like all der other chiefs. We's follow him because he be better at thinkin den the rest of us, an's its all part of a larger plan ye see? I'm certain of it. I'm certain the chief got it all figured out, an' der idiots only be minin fer a few weeks before we's be rescuin dem."

"Ya really think so? I just don't know, Snackfur. It just seem like if the chief be sellin out new recruits like that, what will he do to us."

"If ya weren't useful, Gazla, ya wouldn't be a captain in Luzgot's horde. Come me gel, stop sniffilen over a bunch of idiots an' get back to marchin." Snackfur honestly had no clue what to say, nor did he know if Gazla had even cheered herself up. She kept in line and continued onward, rejoining the group. As they did, Luzland's walls could be seen in the distance. Snackfur had a lot to say to his chief, but he wished he had the bravery to say it.
_

Snackfur found it difficult, but he eventually convinced the foxes and Parb's envoys to keep their distance, making them camp in a clearing far off from Luzland. Zangan and Goba would choose their most experienced soldiers and march alongside them when they met Luzgot. Snackfur and Gazla would have to collect their warlord. Zangan and Goba awaited in another clearing closer by, keeping themselves only half hidden. When Snackfur and Gazla returned, Markem's captains were still busily forming Luzland's vermin into proper fighting shape. Snackfur was half impressed with how successful they had been, effectively turning half of Luzland's vermin into proper vermin warriors while they had been gone. One of the trainers came up to Snackfur, angrily tapping his paw.

"Ya be very late an' that lazy lot in the barracks be barely in fightin shape. How is Luzgot goin to present his horde to Markem in such a shape? Where have ya two been anyhow?"

"Failin mostly. We gotta speak to the boss."

"What for? What can tell Luzgot, ya can tell me."

Snackfur pushed him aside "An' if ya wanna bother the chief, ya gonna to have to face em' an Markem fer disobeyin yer superiors. Ya may be a captain now, runt, but I can gut ya fer talkin back no problem. Now get out of me way, an keep to yer side of the field."

The vermin trainer relented as Gazla and Snackfur re-entered Luzland, which had been in a poor state since he left. Without neither Luzgot or his captains, the vermin were rather aimless, with one local gang and his crew apparently sleeping on the steps. Snackfur shook them awake and angrily yelled out orders. It didn't take long before both Gazla and Snackfur had the fort lively again, and were hashing out the problems. Snackfur began passing out rations as Gazla gave out tasks to the younger recruits, most coming from small bandit hideouts and hamlets along the coast. Snackfur could be rather persuasive as he strode amongst his soldiers "Ya best be gettin live an' shape now, ya feces smellin lot! If I catch one bad whiff of ya, I'll have yer fur cut and scraped fer coats! Get to it, or Luzgot will tan yer hides himself! Sharpen an' clean yer weapons, start countin the inventory, an all that!"

Gazla played along, yelling at the vermin recruits "Ya heard em', start scrubbin ya dumb work beasts, or ya will be cleanin the ditch spikes wit yer own blood an' guts! Hop to it!" The vermin wheeled about, with Snackfur and Gazla watching the settlement come to life. It gave both a genuine pride to see their horde set themselves to work, but it also gave them a twinge of ambition. I wonder if Luzgot even is needed. Maybe I'd be a better suited warlord, eh?

That twinge of ambition was cut very short by Luzgot's call as he saw the two. "Well! What are you two lazy dolts doing down there! Come meet with me, now!" Snackfur and Gazla obeyed, descending into Luzland's keep to meet with their master.
_

Luzgot looked out as his captain finished explaining his adventure, his mind wheeled and churned inside his head with a deep distaste with each word which came out of Snackfur's mouth. You idiotic dope, I should have had you thrown in a grave like the rest of me father's ol captains an loyalists. Why did I ever listen to Garzlo when it came to picking out me captains. Foxes and half baked results is what I get! Snackfur finished up his story, as Luzgot angrily tapped his chin on his throne.

"So let me get this straight, me dear captain. Ya not only failed to bring Parb to me, ya got yerself captured an' bungled yerself into letting some fox tribe get the better of me own captain! Am I a warlord of Luzland, or a chieftain of a circus!"

Gazla shot up "We's not clowns, me lord! I can guarantee ye, if we were, we's be the best clowns in the whole of Mossflower!"

This had been the wrong thing to say as Luzgot nearly flew into a rage. The only thing that kept Gazla safe was when Luzgot's personal slave Dannek waddled into the room, carrying a pitcher of wine. Luzgot angrily grabbed the pitcher and chugged it down, practically throwing it at the mole who fumbled and fell to grab onto it. Luzgot sneered "Ya two will be in a circus soon enough, a circus of pain! Serves me right sendin ya, Snackfur, you embodiment of me sufferin. I am a warlord of the east, yet some wretched rat from some bungled horde makes me look ever weaker."

Snackfur spoke up "If that is what ye wish to hear, chief. How shall we proceed? Ya got a plans ya says, but I never heard of it."

"Cause ya wouldn't understand my genius machinations ya idiot. I'll have to explain it to some envoy an' a bandit fox. However, I suppose ya at least got em' on me side. If this Zangan does want to harm Markem, as ya say, then we can use his horde as fodder."

Snackfur was having doubts, and spoke them out "Boss, if we go against Markem, how do we expect to win against him? We's got no slaves, half the horde is bein drilled to serve his captains, an' the vermin got left be recruits an' locals."

Luzgot smiled at Snackfur's ignorance "Ya see Snackfur, I's got a secret, one fer which will tear into our enemy, but only once he crashed headfirst against the badger lords of Salamanderstron. Ya will see an' hear, at me own time of course. Now, they are here, right? Lets go meet'em."
_

Luzgot had Gazla stay behind as he, Snackfur, Garzlo and several armed vermin made their way down their newly made entrance via a rope. Garzlo was learning to climb down and up the rope, although he still remained tense. The ferret was paranoid, constantly wondering if one of Markem's hordebeasts will notice, or if they would be ratted out by any one of the horde itself. Luzgot however remained confident, and strode out with the party. It was night time, and Luzgot and his party pushed their way into the brush and circled around. They were getting used to the general lazy attitude of Markem's vermin, who had only once sent an envoy to greet their new overlord. Luzgot had complained to them about the lack of slaves and weapons, but his demands were unheard and the vermin captains only meekly nodded their heads. It annoyed the rat just how much Markem's vermin would treat him like a prisoner in his own fortress, and could easily get away with it.

Luzgot and his retinue made they way into a clearing, with Luzgot lighting a torch. Zangan and his foxes came first, appearing from the forest shade and looking fairly bored. Next came Goba and his own retinue, with the hunched mink Danza following along. Luzgot raised his paws and spoke to the rabble of villanous vermin. "I'd welcome ya to Luzland proper, me mates, but it seems we are stuck here in the clearing, no thanks to a particular rat we have all come to hate."

"Aye'z. Ya must be the warlord of der'z fort, Luzgab."

"Luzgot."

"Whatever'z."

"Me friends an' hearties, as we gather here under the night sky, I say ya onto this. Let us not dull ourselves an' fool around, we gather here fer one purpose. To discuss the question of Markem an his 'great vermin band'. I'd normally had wanted to meet with Parb, but it looks like we'z got a visitor as well." Luzgot turned to Zangan "I heard of ya fox, an' must say I be impressed ya survived so long. Good thing ya bother Markem instead of the likes of me."

Zangan grunted, but before he could speak Gabo rushed out with his voice. "My sister questions not only why you would jump head first into trying to kill Markem, but how you would do it. Great Marsh will not commit to your future suicide, rat."

"Are ye a blind, ol' fool ya dumb mink? Look at me horde, ya see der fort? I got no slaves, half me horde be Markem's now, an soon enough he will do the same to ever vermin who calls em'self leader or chief in eastern Mossflower. He holds contempt fer all of us, viewin us as degenerates an' wretches, and treats us as em as well! He'd sooner have Great Marshes slaves be runnin der silver mine and have ya all be scrubbin his boots clean! At least this fox had the sense to not get entangled in such a trap, and I got forced. Yer the lone coward out, you and yer sister."

"You dare!" Gabo insisted, but was stopped by the calm paw of Danza. "Wait my lord, let us hear the rat out."

"Markem ain't no weakling, he be a dumb hordebeast, yes, but he is a rabble leader without a cause. He gotta war with Mossflower to get at the likes of us, an he will drag dis horde into the ground. I be sayin, Markem built a vast band of warlords, an I says I. . .We. . .should lead it! I'll drive dis horde right an' proper, solidify the east fer ourselves, and build an empire to rival any other. An I gots a plan to do it."

"How'z so?" Zangan asked

"Markem will go to war wit Salamanderstron, an bring all der armies southward. While he be away, we's will put ourselves in a position. We'll cut off der information by cullin their scouts and couriers, an keep back a sizable force of our own to take Gholand. Me captain Garzlo will contact ambitious beasts and gather local gangs still fearin me name and sworn to Luzland, an' we'll supply dem free beasts still not under Markem's lash wit weapons to slow and prod at him while we take his home. The Long Patrol will wipe out his armies, an' we'll have several armies of our own. Any counter attack we'll mop up wit an army of Salamanders I got under me spell. I just be needed enough silver an' coin to pay fer a nice gaggle of mercenaries, bring in some of the coastal gangs under me own banner."

Danza was quick to think and point out "My lady will never agree to such a thing, even if you were successful, you would still have to deal with Markem returning when he wins."

"Who says he'd win, ya dumb beast. The Long Patrol be a lot more skilled then him, and likely more numerous, an's we be der only true threat. With us sabotagin his efforts, we'll be able to slow him to a crawl."

"What about the rebels themselves?"

"We'll put em back in chains an' have em tastin a real lash soon enough once we are done wit em. Dey be useful fodder now, but armin them won't change der fact they be a group of weaklings an' half starved fools. If we supply em with what dey need, we can get em' to work wit us to defeat Markem now, and take the rest of em back as work beasts later."

Danza thought it over. It wasn't a perfect plan, but it was well thought out. She added "Perhaps, but what about the rest of the warlords? Kylan? Hazul?"

"Yes, what about our good Kylan and dear Hazul, eh? A warlord with a beefy stomach an a rat led around by a magical leash to whatever promised land lays in yer far distance. Hazul's tribe be small, weak, even I could crush him wit me creatures I still have. Even if it were a threat, I could cook up a fake prophecy to have that entire horde runnin scared. Kylan ain't much different, a warlord who willfully shines and spits on Markem's boots. His captains though? Not so much. Jusbrag always has volatile captains, an it doesn't take a genius to find out which one will support me, eh."

Danza looked to Goba and nodded her head "These are risky plans, my lord, yet decent ones i suppose. Markem is a larger threat." Gabo meekly agreed and turned to Luzgot "Then it is settled, you will have my sister's aid and the aid of Great Marsh. In secret I do hope."

"Aye'z, an me tribe will aid ya'z as well, rat. If ya are after Markem, then we'z will be the one to cut off his head! In return, ya will give us Jusbrag, yes?" Luzgot greedily pursed his lips, but did not speak. How dare this wretch demand one of me future forts from the likes of me! Fine, I'll give you your future prize, but not until I have you dealt with once Markem is no more. Luzgot gave a smile "Aye, an ya will get Jusbrag an's all its loot fer yourself fox, and I shall get Gholand. Parb can have Veekun's burrow! Soon enough, this Great Vermin Band be havin a new boss, one who is more deserving then some bottom feedin hordebeast who be thinkin he be above the rest of us!"

The vermin made their dark pact beneath the fire of the trees, each swearing to Luzgot's plan. Luzgot would gather the vermin of the coast to war, Parb would use her wealth to pay out the bribes, and Zangan would lead the raids and armies to war. "When Markem marches an is far off, tis when we shall strike! While he falls beneath the blade of a stripe dog, we's will take his horde fer ourselves!"
_

Dennek was cleaning up some of Luzgot's dishware, most of it pilfered from good and gentle beasts. The mole had been a long time servant of the rat, his first memories of life being beaten and browned up by Luzgot and the rat's father tormenting him. His own parents were distant and muddy memories, and all he saw through the sheen of glassware was a scared face, angry and spiteful. He didn't speak much, for speaking only made the rat warlord angry, and doing all the mundane tasks alone in the fort made Dennek exhausted. The rat would return soon and turn in for the night, but the slave of the fortress had another plan in mind. Without his master to boss him around, Dennek set to work and began checking over a scrawled note. It was his own handwriting, in a mole's clumsy speech. He tied it with some leftover string.

He paced, wondering what he was doing was going to get him killed. He left the kitchen and in the main hall, still pacing and still worried to death. Whuts goin to huppon if I gets caught? Will I die? Will I get luashed? Luzgut beat me pruper if I fail, ur wurse. I pray dus wurks. The mole would have never had the bravery he had, but he had dreams recently. Strange ones. They were dreams of a mouse in a brazen armor, wielding a beautiful sword. He called out to Dennek and helped him pen his letter. He had never seen the figure, but his presence had given him a strength he never thought he had. He went out the door, his scroll in his paw.

Dennek passed the vermin who didn't bother him, they knew the punishment of what would happen if they bothered Luzgot's slave. Gazla was in doors, sleeping and mumbling to herself in her sleep. Dennek came up to the gate door and spotted his quarry. It was a single weasel who was half asleep, eating an apple. He was one of Markem's 'captains', a warden for Luzgot who was joyfully watching from the open gates his new division of vermin soldiers resting after a long day. They would soon be ready to march to war, which would come soon. Dennek approached.

"Yous be a varment of Markum?" The mole meekly asked. The weasel stopped and looked at him, surprised that they had even missed one slave to pilfer from Luzgot. "Aye, mole? What ya want?"

"Me muster, Luzgot, Wurlord of Luzland, bids yu to brung dis to a varment named Scurl. Tis important, an' be fer hus eyes only! Luzgut be slepun now, an he dun' needs this messuge sent a-us-a-pe"

The vermin looked down at the scroll and nodded. "I'll send a courier. Ya go back to yer master an tell him the message will reach Gholand in a proper day."

Dennek gulped and moved along. I'z dun knuw whut i be guttun into, but whoever dut Scarl may be, maybe he be helpun me get out of here.

---

Court was held in the dead of night, as the day was approaching fast once again in Gholand. Markem was half tired, but he was energized by the foreboding warning of the creatures before him. Scarl laid in a corner of the room, looking over a scroll he had just received, looking on with a great deal of intrigue at it.

"An me mate, Rufo, me lord. He. . .He. . ." An otter held a cloth to her face, unable to control her weeping as some of the vermin in the court watched on. 'Dirt's' face shriveled with anger as he heard what had happened to the tributary village, and the blatant murder that had taken place. Markem shared his anger, with several vermin dead and the fox bandit having escaped him again. Yet that tingle of pity was washing over him again, especially seeing the otter wife who had just lost her husband being unable to stand, let alone speak, as she recounted what happened. Markem waved his paws. "Tis enough. I've heard enough. Gashan. I will speak with ya real quick like. An ya too Scarl."

Scarl and Markem's taskmaster Gashan came over to the throne. The guards surrounded the otter widow and her frightened pups, leading them away. Several vermin were in attendance, including Markem's captains. He viciously scolded Scarl "I want that fox found and dead, but we gotta focus on our campaign. Send out orders to triple my border guard, an put a bounty on that fox's entire tribe." Scarl was only half listening, still looking at the scroll. He looked at Markem who soon eyed it. "News I take it?"

"Nay. A 'message in a bottle' as dey say on the open sea. Tis a message I find interest in, think nothing of it. I will send out me mates to triple our guard. The foxes move as nomads, but i'll send out our work crews to begin buildin palisades around more vulnerable towns if ya wish."

Markem thought for a moment and shook his head "No, not a lot of time fer that, an too many resources. Evacuate the border regions an consolidate the villages and garrisons, build more formal walls where we got good resources an' lumber. We goin to war soon." Scarl nodded and went off, still reading the scroll. It fascinated him. Markem then knelt close to Gashan, being sure to whisper to him so none of the other courtiers and captains could hear.

"Dat otter widow be sufferin, give her an' easy job Gashan an' lay off work fer her cubs if need be, but make sure dey still be useful."

"Got it chief, I'll assign her to the kitchens of the other slaves, be easier work then a barracks chef fer certain. I'll giver space to mourn. Tis a brutal thing."

"I know it is. Just be sure it be done." Markem sat back comfortably on his throne, his bodyguard 'Dirt' had overheard. It wasn't lost on 'Dirt' that Markem had not freed them, and would still remain slaves in Gholand, but he couldn't help but feel a bit happy to know Markem felt sorry for them. Yet he and him still remained adamant on one thing. If they ever found Zangan, he would be a dead beast.