Chapter 17: 'Secret Operations are Essential to War'

Scarl was looking over the small scroll in his paw, as he sat comfortably in his office in Gholand's keep, a bit dumbfounded what he was reading. He was at first tempted to just throw it out, it was barely a series of scribbles made to resemble letters which were poorly spelled out. A knock on the door turned his attention to it, 'Mud' entered and poured some fresh papers on the desk of Scarl, looking a bit exhausted "This is all I could find, sir. If you want more, there is a paper merchant along the coast I think."

Scarl looked around, a bit annoyed, "An the ale I requested?"

"I was getting to it, sorry." 'Mud' swiftly went about his task as Scarl grunted with some clear resentment. He poured over the papers and began writing furiously into them. He wrote a more clear and understandable pair of sentences from the scroll he had received from 'Luzgot'. It was simple, dumb, but it was terrifying

'Luz up no guuood, meeting.

Dream, muse, great armor.

Great sword. Help.'

Scarl could only guess that 'Luz' meant Luzgot, as he began to look over the strange message. He was dumbfounded by some of the phrasing. Dreams. Muses. Great armor and swords? It sounded like it was written for a child, as Scarl continued to peer down at the scroll. A sudden jolt of needing to know overtook him, his curiosity getting the better of him. Luzgot. A useful idiot for now, but certainly growing more and more expendable. I need him to gain access to the coastal warlords, for our war for Mossflower. However, what manner of beast would send me a message this way for something I should already know?

Scarl had done much to keep Luzgot alive for a singular purpose, he was an incompetent whose father built up much of the eastern warlords as they are today. Luzgot was decadent, an ambitious idiot, but was certainly not a fool who would try to undermine the Great Vermin Band considering how quickly he could be defeated if he tried again. Keeping Luzgot alive was more for time's sake, gaining access to his horde and resources along the coast for a war against the Long Patrol was worth every inconvenience of keeping him alive. Scarl wondered if his peer Garzlo had plans of his own. Scarl was disappointed that such a fellow ferret like him licked the boots of Luzgot at all, clearly a creature who was smart enough to formulate plans and plots, even to beat him at certain intervals. It was an insult that Garzlo looked up to his boss, and Scarl loved to play his games of intrigue enough to purposefully keep him alive.

Scarl took the scroll and carefully burned it, he needed all he needed to know from it as he torched it over an open candle flame. He now knew Luzgot was up to something, and in several long days there would be conflict. 'Mud' returned with the ferret spymaster's drink who drank it with speed and was already out the door. 'Mud' scoffed once he was out of earshot, not wishing to be in the odd ferret's attention.
_

Markem was training with his host in the fields beyond Gholand, as he was watching and training alongside his horde. The new hordebeasts who were eager to join him, now were more comfortable with how his horde worked, becoming eager members of the vermin host which Markem could be proud of. Markem stood alongside several captains, including Turbas who was proud of his division in particular. Markem was able to see his new horde finish up a complex battlefield move in practice with one another, facing off against another practice horde. Markem had learned a lot of tricks and tactics in his long years of campaigning, and the pitched battle went smoothly. Two divisions of vermin with lighter weapons would hold back from the main line, and move around, striking the flanks from the side. On another side of the field, Turbas's archers were improving their range quite considerably. Two ferrets in particular had been brought to Markem's attention as the beginning to a new division of snipers, not all that different from the Long Patrol's. The idea of vermin snipers, picking off commanders, scouts, and captains before a battle even began would have been distasteful for rock headed vermin warriors, but to Markem and his captains, it was quite innovative.

Scarl came up to the field alone, sliding quietly between Markem and his otter bodyguard and slave 'Dirt'. 'Dirt' didn't even notice and was jumped with surprise at just how easy Scarl could slip between him. Scarl himself had a habit of doing this, giving him a reason to criticize Markem's protector. "Still not on yer toes I see, water dog."

Markem recognized Scarl's voice, and spoke up "Don't be too hard on him, Scarl. You practically master the art of not being seen." 'Dirt' sighed and stood at his normal attention as Scarl came closer to Markem. The other captains pretended to not notice the ferret, a creature who they knew had likely libraries of black mail with his sheer knowledge on all things related to Markem and his horde. It was another unusual aspect of Markem that many in the horde had to get used to, Markem was comfortable around Scarl, a spymaster who had everyone's eyes and ears. Normally, such creatures did not last long in hordes, no matter how useful they were. Scarl was perhaps different in this regard, being so useful to the horde that even if Markem was a predictable villain, he wouldn't have been able to get rid of him.

"I'm certain 'Dirt' can handle a little bit of criticism, ain't that right, mate?"

'Dirt' only gave a nod and a grunt as Scarl quickly looked to his chief and smiled bigly. "I'm going to be off. . .doing some things for a few days. If ya don't mind me lord."

"Is it important? Our attack on Tussock will happen soon, once our full host is formed."

"Not too long, just a quick trip to Luzland an' such."

"Luzland? Do not tell me Luzgot is planning me death again."

"Maybe, most likely not. Unless he is an idiot."

Markem stared at Scarl, not wishing to ever hear of Luzland or its warlord. He had grown a particularly nasty rivalry with the creature who blatantly tried to kill him. Scarl had stopped those assassinations, quite expertly since Luzgot fumbled so much like a common chieftain. One attempt had particularly been an amusing joke between him and 'Dirt', where one of Luzgot's hordebeasts screamed loudly from afar and tried to skewer him with a long pike. It took several minutes for the overly frightened vermin to nearly run past them and fall head first into a ditch. Now the poor creature was happily a quartermaster to one of Markem's divisions, a small trophy which annoyed Luzgot to no end. Markem did have quite a collection of failed assassins from Luzland which now served him, being retained to new forms of usefulness where they former master threw them as idiotic plots and plans.

"Well, consider this Scarl. I am having a zero tolerance policy towards that warlord from here on out. If he tries this again, I will have his head. I've spared him more times then I should have, to be honest."

"Believe me, I'd love to replace him, but he is too useful to simply get rid of. The coastal vermin and raiders listen to him, trade in his fort, and swear to him. Several warlords sided with him then us when he tried his little trick during the feast, if ya remember."

"I do. I still don't know why they listen to him."

"He's a useful idiot, to more than just us. He owns a big fort, has a big horde, and is more charismatic then you or I are used to."

"I ain't goin to argue about that, but others gotta see eventually that Luzgot is a useless bungler, and a back stabber."

"In time, in time. If my investigation comes up well, I'll let ya know when or if we should make our move. Otherwise, consider this a. . .house cleaning."

"So be it, so long as it doesn't interfere in our plans, I don't care if ya marry the cretan."

Scarl bowed his head humbly and excused himself. 'Dirt' whispered to Markem "He seems a bit more happy than usual."

"He is intrigued and set on travel, of course he be happy." Markem looked over his horde. They would be ready soon.


Goba and Danza returned to Great Marsh in their own time, with the two Minks silently enjoying their walk through the woodland lanes of eastern Mossflower. Goba didn't get to enjoy Mossflower's peaceful forests very much, but rather was more used to marching out raiding parties into the high cliffs to the farther east. He brought back slaves, loot, and vermin to his sister to serve Great Marsh and their mine. The group continued through the woodlands, and only stopped temporarily near a stream to rest before heading into the marshes. Goba and Danza both hated their homeland, a stinking mire where it was easy to drown in. Even though Parb had shown Goba how to swim when he was a youngster, he still hated getting wet, and Danza herself was more concerned about the vast swarms of flies and insects which wandered about.

Goba brought up Luzgot's offer in casual conversation with Danza "You think my sister will go along with it? Luzgot's plan an' all?"

"Maybe, but we will see. I think it's a decent plan, and could work. So long as of course Markem fails against the Long Patrol and is defeated forth with. While his armies flounder in the south, we take his very home under his nose. A warlord is only as powerful as the horde they command, my good Goba."

"Of course. I don't know though, it still seems. . .risky."

"Risk is but a part of life. You risk death and dismemberment every day just getting out of bed. Think only of the rewards."

"Yes, sure, our reward would be great. . .but so would be our deaths. Markem is still a vermin warlord at the end of the day."

"True, but that still applies to other factors. He is a common hordebeast, like any creature here that follows us. Meek, easy to manipulate, and overly ambitious for his own good. Why else would he think he has the power to challenge the badger lords? Let alone the whole of Mossflower. If Kasg was defeated then, he can be defeated as well. He will be more likely than not."

"He does have a mighty army."

"So did Cluny the Scourge if you remember the tales, so did many invaders of this land. Now worry not, and be ready to present Luzgot's case to our mistress."

"Can't you speak to her on my behalf?"

"No, you must. I insist." Goba sighed and surrendered to the ever hated task of speaking of the news to his sister, and the group proceeded forward into Great Marsh.
_

Parb had begun the early morning like any other morning, in the lap of exquisite luxury. Even though she lived in a giant ruin, the colorful cloth above her head as she sat up from her comfortable bed. She would read a chapter of a book to pass her time, and make mental notes and fantasies. At a given moment, one of her personal slaves would come through the door on time, bearing a plate of breakfast delicacies to eat, along with her favorite and clean gobblet. Thanklessly, the slave would await for her to finish and dress her in her finery. Parb would exit into her main corridor of the decaying ruin, fixed up in royal attire as she sat amongst her couch, reading more deeply into her book and drinking only occasionally from her goblet.

Two of her guards, two younger weasels which had sworn to her, entered the room and made their bows. "My lady, the expedition you requested is nearly ready. We have. . ." One of them paused embarrassed to what he was about to say "About 250 vermin ready to march, the remainder will stay."

"That is fine." Parb with a weak and bored paw excused him "It will not be a terribly long campaign I believe, and with likely little action. Now go back to your posts and ease up the slaves from the mines for the day, we should have enough silver to present to Markem. . .and Luzgot."

"Of course, my lady."

Parb found life to be sweet, but also rather boring and sour. She regretted having poisoned so many of her siblings to get where she was today, her favorite books on herbs, medicines, and poisons was casually stacked in piles next to her. She had quite a collection in another part of the castle where she would find true happiness experimenting with making better poisons and medicines for herself. Parb would test them on the slaves' food from time to time, just enough to not kill them naturally, but to observe what happened to them. She was always happy with her results, but what she was never happy with was her constant responsibilities. Vermin and slaves had to be fed, the ambitions of overly eager vermin had to be put down, and defenses had to be made. Out of sheer boredom, she had her slavers specifically capture younger creatures, mostly to goad their parents to assailing her keep, to be killed or added to her chain gangs.

Parb turned her cruel and lazy gaze to her large cadre of personal slaves who kept themselves busy. All of them grew up in the cruel keep of Great Marsh, and were chosen from the slaves in the mines for their youth. In her younger years, she had taken a certain sadistic pleasure in breaking down gentle beasts into meek servants who bowed their heads to her, but now it just seemed boring. Two were dormice who were brother and sister scrubbed away at a floor, a younger otter maiden who awaited fearfully and patiently next to Parb, a squirrel who was carefully dusting off well read books. What Parb could not see was the shrew maiden and cook who made her fine meals. All had known Parb for years, but all were deeply fearful of her and tried to not keep her gaze for long, and awaited for the night where they could at least talk to each other again without their mistress to wait on. Parb didn't really know their names well, and didn't need to know them, as she sipped her cup in decadence.

Her thoughts turned to Markem, a breath of fresh air from her own life, a clear threat to her power, but yet an interesting creature. He wasn't a sadistic idiot like Luzgot, an incompetent like Bignose, and certainly not a tribal fanatic like Hazul. Markem was kind to not only his vermin, but to his slaves as well. It fascinated her how such a creature even could exist without living in constant threat of being overrun by creatures like herself, and held such sway. It would be quite a challenge to overcome, but the challenge excited her. She took a sip of her cup, but finding it empty, she slowly put it back to the ground.

"I see there is no wine in my cup, are you daydreaming?" She turned her head to the sad and suddenly jolted otter. Hurrying along, she grabbed a pitcher from the personal kitchens and filled it, nearly spilling it into the cup. Parb would have normally had the creature punished, but relented due to the slave's speed. "You didn't answer, and do tell me swiftly before I grow bored."

"I am sorry, marm. I was. . .just thinking of home."

Parb looked at her with a mixed look. The otter was an adult, but she had grown up in her service since she was fairly little, not all that different from how Markem had his own personal otter bodyguard and slave. She was surprised they even remembered their homes. "Home? Tell me, what do you think of as home. If you tell me something nice, I won't have you dragged off by. . .him."

The otter gulped at the thought, she knew what Parb meant, the evil thing that lurked far below them in the mines. "I thought of me holt, mam. Back out in the east, past the trees and rivers, near the far end of the coast. It was at the edge of a great ravine I remember. I am sorry, I will try to be-"

"Do not apologize. Continue."

The otter continued as Parb listened almost intently. It frightened the slaves around them, unsure of what cruel jest or game the mink was getting up to this time. Yet Parb was genuinely interested, bored of her books and flagrant tales of yore. She enjoyed the description of the holt, the worded smells of food and drink. "I see." Parb exclaimed "Your story is at least competent, but do try to keep my goblet filled from now on. . .erm. . .umm. . ."

The otter sighed, she had corrected her so many times on her name, she had nearly given up "Nurka, mam."

"Narka."

The otter brushed off her white tunic from kneeling on the ground and rejoined her position, as Parb dwelt in her fantasies. She had no intention of going to the otter holt, most certainly, but the idea of the adventure itself whisked her away. It was quite blissful for her up until there was a knock on the door of her room. She called out, already knowing who it was.

"Come in, you are expected."

Goba and Danza entered into the room by mid afternoon, their journey to Luzland had made them dirty, tracking mud all over the once clean carpets and floors, much to the terror and dismay of the two dormice cleaners. Goba snapped at the squirrel who was cleaning, who, knowing what he wanted already, rushed to find him a drink and brought back a glass cup of wine. Goba bowed to his sister and Danza rushed to her side, whispering in her ears. Parb smiled and sipped her drink "I hear all went well, my brother."

Goba didn't waste time to tell Parb of Luzgot's plan. She listened intently to the uninspired drivel, to a point where she would have preferred to listen to one of her slaves talking about her missing home then the plot to overcome Markem. Luzgot's plan was sound, a betrayal which relied on two main facets to succeed; for Markem to fail in taking Tussock, and for him to be far enough from home for the trap to be sprung all while she and Luzgot marched their hordes under his banner. Parb would interrupted only briefly to express what part of the plan would involve her, having long suspected that it wasn't her small army that Luzgot was after, but her wealth.

"A fascinating plan, certainly." Parb yawned "Yet one which has some glaring issues, one for which if we are to commit, will need some fixing."

"So we will go along with it?" Goba asked, uncertain of his sister's intentions.

"For now, but not without some additional information. Danza, I will need you to go to Gholand on my behalf rather then our usual merchant. You know what to do?"

"Of course mistress, Danza obeys."

Goba looked as the slinking creature exited the room, leaving him and his sister. She jested him forward "As for you, I think you deserve some reprieve. While I am gone on campaign, I will leave you in charge of our home."

Goba was surprised "Truly?"

"Yes, but under my strict order that you are to remain here. Luzgot will need supplies, silver, and other things of import, but we have no real army of our own. In my absence, I will need you to start hiring some mercenaries to guard our fortress. Markem will not have you acting on my behalf, and he rightfully does not trust me. You will act defensively and only defensively. Luzgot no doubt will have a plan to 'escape' Markem's campaign, but we are to act neutral in this matter."

"You aren't fully committed I see" Goba folded his paws.

"Why should we be, little brother. We must win regardless of who gets out on top. If Luzgot wins, good for us, now we have another rat to deal with. If Markem wins, Luzgot's fortress has to go to someone, and it best be us who ends up on top. Maybe Markem will give us that nice fox's entire tribe as a gift. After all, we always are in need of more miners."

Goba grunted "Zark would appreciate that I suppose." The name sent shivers down Goba's spine, the creature which dwelled below in the mines in perpetual darkness frightened him. It frightened all creatures in Great Marsh, all except Parb. Parb swirled her drink, indicating to her servant she wished more. "I will say this much, I am certain that whoever wins will have our gratitude regardless. Now, start doing as I ask of you, if you would so kindly."

"Of course, sister." Goba left with a huff, with Parb getting up herself. She turned to her fearful servant and scolded "Start packing my things, my good things and some decent literature. We are marching to Gholand today, and you will be joining me."
_

Parb rarely if ever needed to leave her room, she found the remaining castle to be disturbingly quiet and depressing. She remembered fondly of the day when her father chased away the vermin who use to live in the fort and set up inside it with a tiny tribe of Minks, which he eliminated one by one till only he and his large family remained. Parb also remembered the day they first discovered silver. . .and the creature who lived in the dark and ruined dungeon below the ancient keep. She had practically raised the evil beast to do as she bid, but it grew constantly discontent and was kept only entertained with its duty of keeping watch over the slaves. She and her servant would turn with different expressions towards the slaves of the pit, many coming to Great Marsh when they were young, tamed by the lash over their many years of mining away silver. Most lived in the old dungeon of the keep, where the slave master also lived. Parb was bored of what she saw, she had spent years cultivating her miners, bound in heavy chains and shackles, to work expertly in the grand pit. Her servant had an expression of mortified shame, seeing many miserable and innocent creatures unable to escape the toil. Most had gotten use to the weight of their shackles, all except a group of new vermin laborers who miserably wept alone to themselves, mining away some rock.

Parb however was a bit annoyed, for despite working day in and day out, her coffers still were constantly low. She had tried everything from feeding the mine more laborers to having the evil thing within the mine triple the workload, but still produced the same results. The silver vein below the mine was still there, for certain, she had seen it, but it felt like the years of hard labor had been for not. Parb was rich beyond belief, but her expenses constantly arose. Paying the toll for slavers to replace dead laborers, having other warlords smith her shackles for various species, and even paying out for her own vermin was growing increasingly expensive.

She came out into the muddy courtyard, with her captains having gathered her horde of well disciplined vermin. They saluted her as she was hoisted into her paraquin by her servant. She casually and silently commanded her small host to begin taking her to Gholand, marching out from Great Marsh. Goba stood from the great stone stairs which went into the mine, smiling greedily as she left. Soon enough, little sister, there will be only one Mink in Great Marsh. Gripping a hidden scroll from Luzgot's captain, Garzlo, he looked over it with a grin. Shifting it away into his robes, he paced back up into his room to begin his own little plot of his own.


Scarl was joined in his hidden office by the rat Skabit and the weasel warrior Kudgel, both of whom busily waiting for orders. Scarl had prepared backs of provisions for himself, but Kudgel and Skabit both seemed more focused on what Scarl was looking over. Scarl pulled out maps of Mossflower, specifically that of the eastern coast, and bit his lip. His paws tapped at Luzland and he mumbled "Maybe 200? 300? No, that can't be right. Luzland still had over. . .maybe there was a change?"

"Somethin the matter, boss?" Skabit happily called out. Scarl shifted an angry set of eyes to him which made him slink back into his chair. Scarl did not look happy "Skabit, tell me something, if ya were to tell me that Luzgot would try to betray us. . .again. . .do ya think he'd have the force to take on us an' our allies? Any clue who would join em in that?"

"No clue really, boss." Skabit thought "Maybe the gangsters along the coasts, maybe a couple pirate mercenaries at best. We can rule out Zangan and Parb fer good reason."

"Why those two in particular?"

"Zangan is a bandit chief, an' a bloody psychopath at that, more interested in raiden than conqueren. We know his fox tribe be very skilled at causin pain an' sufferin to all who cross their path, an we also know they don't take to bribes. Remember tryin to bribe that lot with Parb's silver that on year? Didn't work then, doesn't work now. Luzgot don't even got much to really bribe anyone with, not unless he is sitten on a literal gold mine."

"Right. Parb though? She isn't exactly fully a friend ain't she."

Skabit had to think that one through, the mink warlordess was always overly neutral. He and Scarl knew her all too well. "She be a pragmatic one, that Mink. She knows allying with the likes of Luzgot be trouble. Not unless Luzgot got smart all of a sudden."

"That be my concern. Someone sent me a message about Luzgot, tellen me about swords, muses, an' armor. Or somethin. I don't know what to make of it, so we are headin to Luzland to find out."

Skabit frowned at this "Will it take long, Scarl? I'd prefer to stay here to be honest. Luzland be all manner of trouble, an that fox-"

"If ya are worried about Zangan, don't fret, his tribe is about to have some pretty nasty difficulties. Markem is having some of the villages evacuated an' our patrols increased. Zangan always had trouble with archers, so I had some of Hazul's bowbeasts train up some skirmishers to deal with that infernal lot. Zangan is going to be in for quite a surprise his next raid when he and his tribe get riddled with arrows, eh."

"I suppose, doesn't make me comfortable moving through their territory, though."

"Well don't whine just yet, we haven't reach Luzland. You and Kudgel will be coming with me."

Kudgel shrugged "I suppose, Scarl, but why me in particular?"

"Ya will be well paid fer yer. . .special services." Scarl took out some silver in a small sack, tossing it into the paw of the weasel turncoat. The mercenary gave a wide and greedy smile. "So, when do we leave, boss?"

"Now. Grab yer things. Time to make our due in Luzland."
_

The Journey to Luzland was relatively short, it would not take them very long to reach the nearly coastal vermin fortress, especially when Markem enforced a small woodland path between his fortress and Luzland. Normally, it would have been a week's journey, including days spent simply regathering supplies for the journey back. Scarl did not have that luxury, and thus was already marching at a brisk pace, his companions lagged behind. It always terrified Skabit especially with how quickly and silently Scarl moved, especially far ahead of them. He struggled to keep his pack as he nearly lost Scarl moving through the forests. Skabit complained openly to Kudgel, who spent his time sharpening a knife.

"I swear, these packs are killing me. We have hundreds of slaves back in Gholand, so why can't one of them carry this stuff for us!"

"Ya should have asked before we left, mate." Kudgel mocked "Besides, what vermin can't hold his own stuff, eh?"

"Me is who! Bad back ya see. Yer a strong cretan, Kudgel, why don't ya take this?"

"Depends what it be. If that pack be filled with Scarl's gear, I'd prefer to keep me poor paws clean of it."

The pack was filled with Scarl's gear, which Kudgel knew full well to keep far away from. Scarl's favorite tool was kept on him at all times, a curved knife which he killed some poor sea rat for way back when. Scarl was rather open about being an unrepentant murderer and torturer, and was unfazed by issues such as common decency and pity. Kudgel may have been a traitor, but Scarl was a different kind of vermin, one for which didn't need to look mean and tough to keep him or Skabit in line. He was just smart, and he held all manner of tools in a little pack for which he collected over the years, tools for which would freeze even hardened soldiers like himself.

Skabit shifted his pack as the two moved forward. Scarl hummed a vermin tune as he moved on ahead, his thoughts filled with schemes for which he wished he had time to start. He wondered if by the end of the campaign in Mossflower, he should start a coup against Luzgot, or how he would bribe Hazul's vixen seer to make the rat ever more obedient to Markem's horde, or perhaps even isolate Great Marsh and force them into embracing Markem's reforms and style of horde leadership. The only thing that prevent him from these things was time and resources. Training new spies, paying out the bribes, and plotting behind the scenes all took time. Waiting for the right opportunity so vigilantly also took a great deal of time. Time was an enemy to Scarl, which he wished he could dominate, to stop at a whim to catch up and know all things at once. Scarl continued onward, only to stop to realize his companions lagged behind. He called out to them "Well? Hurry along you two! Our investigation awaits!"
_

The three stopped in a small tributary town, a larger settlement which fell early in Markem's career as an up and coming warlord. The town was called Leafhaven, a squirrel and mouse village. The small village had been busily building up some new defenses, in part thanks to the villagers, and in part thanks to the vermin garrison which defended and oversaw them. The villagers were not happy to be under vermin rule, but it was far better to be under Markem's brown flag than to be raided or enslaved by other warlords. The village had burned before, attacked by the very warlords who now swore to Markem, and the village's surrender to Markem only helped them prosper. However, attacks from the foxes under Zangan had spoked them, and their vermin garrison, which took preparations to build ditches, fell trees, and build up scout posts and archer stands for themselves. The vermin had even taken on some larger squirrels into their ranks, albeit very temporarily, to use as archers in case the bandits attacked.

Leafhaven wasn't very important to Scarl, but it did have something that all vermin like himself desired. He went through the village, and came onto a large and nice looking tavern with a sign that read 'Big Leaf Rest'. Scarl and his companions went inside, enjoying the patronage of the mice and squirrel serfs who were mostly resting from a day's long work, farming and wood cutting, some of which would be sent back to Gholand. Discussion was abound, with some mice and squirrels growing more and more concerned about the village's forced loyalties to Gholand. Some of the older creatures were concerned for their families, while distant youths joked about escaping to join up with the Long Patrol. Scarl could hear them all, but did nothing. He sat in a darker corner of the tavern, ordered some beer, and whispered closely to his companions.

"Alright, so heres the deal me chumps. Luzland ain't far off, but we do need to set up some ground rules." Scarl began, taking a sip of his warm drink "We have two main objectives. Find the one who wrote that little message in a bottle fer the likes of me, an figure out if Luzgot is truly up to his old tricks. After that, we be headin home, mates."

Skabit nodded "Right, who ya think wrote it? Garzlo perhaps?"

"Unlikely, his writing be a bit more. . .better." Scarl wondered, and didn't really think of any creature in Luzgot's company who would be this poor in writing. He wondered if it was a disgruntled captain, which would surprise him, since few vermin knew how to read, let alone write.

"Alright, but what if Luzgot is up to some trouble, an lets be honest here Scarl, he most likely is."

"Oh, don't get me wrong, I know full well he be trouble, but he is our trouble to control. Luzgot ain't too stupid however to challenge us directly, not with what force he could reckon with. Markem crippled his horde, takin half fer his own. I was hoping doing that would snuff out any fire that Luzgot got until after our campaign in Mossflower, but apparently not."

"Which makes ya think the message is a pack of feces, then?" Skabit guessed. Scarl took another swig of his drink, unsure of what to really reply with. "Maybe, maybe not. I want to know Skabit. Not knowing is torture for someone like me, I need to know their secrets. Its a lot like this tavern, ya see. Ya see those group of younger farm mice? They talk about wanten to run away to join the Long Patrol to fight against Markem, but they won't. They got responsibilities at home, one is suspected to marry soon, another is havin second thoughts. The older mouse over there is also listening on in, he is concerned ya see." Scarl would point with his face, keeping an effort to speak lowly. "Ya get a clue of all things around ya, an' when ya get a nice clue, ya can grab at it with a nice opportunity. Ya see those two rats drunk in a corner, they should be on duty, but aren't. They are too comfortable, which means the foxes haven't been seen here fer some time. All these small details tell me things, Skabit. It means to me that whoever is asken fer my help, wants it desperately, an' wants to get at Luzgot."

Skabit and Kudgel looked at each other, unsure if their boss had a point to say. Scarl grew annoyed at his companions, deep in his thoughts as he drank in peace. "Skabit and I will arrive late, which leaves ya Kudgel. I believe ya know full well what to do."

"Of course, Scarl." Kudgel took one last swig of his drink and left the two. Skabit noticed the weasel would swagger over to the bar keep and eagerly pay for another tankard with his money. Skabit groaned and turned to Scarl "Why do we even trust that traitor fer hire, anyway?"

"Kudgel been in my pocket fer a lot longer then ya, Skabit, helped me take Jusbrag fer Markem an' install Kylan in charge. We aren't mates, but paying him well enough has never been an' issue."

"What does he even do wit dat wealth anyhow?"

"Is it your concern?"

Skabit angrily drank his drink "Aye, maybe. I am twice the beast he be, an' more so. Why can't I be paid as he does."

"Believe me, mate, Kudgel's services are hazard pay, considering what I ask of him to do."

"How so?"

"Ya know Markem well. Kudgel knows beasts like Luzgot even better. If ya know anything about the old blood, ya know that swearing yerself to a creature like that is not easy."


Luzgot did not like to be kept waiting, as the mole slave Dannek was in a panic. He was fixing up Luzgot's favorite breakfast, and hurrying out into the hall, already hearing the cries of his master echo through the halls "Slave! Where is my breakfast, dirt crawler!" Dannek bent corners and exhausted himself just to come into the great hall where Luzgot was, sitting on his throne. Luzgot's court was silent and as empty as ever, the rat warlord may have held a court, but he certainly didn't use it. Luzgot only allowed two beasts to ever live with him; himself and Dannek. The younger mole silently brought the meal to his master, and for his efforts, was pounded on the head by the rat's clawed fist, dropping the meal's plate with a thud. "Late, as usual. Useless beast, go grab me a warmer and better meal! Be late again today, and I'll have you scourged!"

Dannek ran off down the halls of the empty keep as Luzgot laid on his throne. He was tired, more frustrated and angry than usual, for today was not a very good day for him. Today was the day he would be marching to Gholand with his army, or more accurately, what remained of it. There were a great deal of things he wanted to do before he left, but he would again have to rely on his captain Garzlo to do much for him. He made an excuse to get about one more day in, promising Markem's impromptu jailers outside of his fort that he would personally lead the army tomorrow, but that he would need to do most of the training for the day. Dannek returned eventually with a better meal, which was warmed up to the best of his abilities, a delicate and delicious meal alongside a tankard of grog. Luzgot took up the grog, looked at it for a moment, and then slammed it into Dannek's face at full force.

"I want wine, you damnable idiot." He snarled. Luzgot ate his meal thanklessly, he had begun to grow a deep and intense hatred towards all woodlanders even before Markem stole his fort with the help of his very slaves. Dannek was powerless as he grasped his hurting nose and went about obeying the tyrant. Dannek at times wished Luzgot's father had lived, although he was quite an abuser and tyrant himself, but at least he took his anger out on Luzgot instead of him.

Luzgot himself was soon joined by his captain Snackfur who entered into the hall by early morning. Snackfur was in a terrible mood himself, the captain had spent much of his day getting the horde prepared for training, handing out vittles, and setting up today's scavenging teams. It was exhausting work, especially since he also had to do the uncomfortable task of putting some vermin on labor duties. Their constant complaints and general lack of enthusiasm just to keep Luzland well fed did not sit well with them. He had to dish out some as cooks even though they were terrible cooks, he had to assign wood cutters to collect firewood, and he still needed to assign a repair crew to fix some thatch roofing on one of the barracks. Normally, slaves would do these kinds of things. It wasn't that the vermin had no idea how to cook their own food or were fragile at collecting wood, it was often that vermin had joined the horde to escape such effort, not to be trapped in it.

"The horde is assembled, chief. They await yer inspection. Of those we got left, I say ya spare the rod or we'll be marching to Gholand with nothin but injuries."

"Then we will make do with cripples fer now. My 'friends' on the eastern coast are to meet with Garzlo soon enough, an give us a larger force fer when we return to Luzland."

Snackfur grunted at the statement "Chief, I got concerns of me own. Dis plan of yers, are ya sure Garzlo is up to it?"

"Ya got yer doubts on Garzlo, an ya should have yer doubts, but he is the only beast with a brain beyond me of course." Luzgot looked briefly at Dannek running with a cup of wine. He took it harshly and excused his servant, drinking of it greedily.

"Are ya sure chief? Each one of his plans failed, an in retrospect, yers failed. We got beat fair an' square, and these plots only leads Markem closer an' closer to just killen you."

Luzgot stood up and angrily called down to his captain "Me plans fail only because rotten idiots like ya bring em to failure! It was one of yer hordebeasts who betrayed me in Gholand, you mangy cur! Had ya spent more time puttin the fear of death in that lot instead of doin whatever fool thing ya do, I would be enjoyin Markem's death in peace. This new plan will work perfectly, an' the best part is, Markem won't know till its far too late as he lay dead on some battlefield, overlooked by some damnable Long Patrol runt."

"Boss, ya haven't said how ya were goin to deal with Kylan. Or Hazul. Or der rest of the warlords who swore to him."

"Aye, I haven't. Fer good reason too, because your small brain cannot handle such things."

Snackfur bit his lip, more in vexation then anger. He could not help but be frustrated with how Luzgot treated his efforts, but he obeyed his lord regardless. "As ya say chief."

"Now leave me alone, I'll join the horde soon."
_

Brashpaw was inspecting the tents outside of Luzland, particularly of his division. He couldn't help but look on with utter cringe as his horde of happy vermin were presenting what he could only imagine was childish design. Brashpaw had once been a common gangster from western Mossflower, scamming Juska out of their vittles and running a protection racket on merchants who came down from the north. When he joined Markem's horde, he was skeptical of the rat's oddities and softness, but he had grown rather fond of it over the long years. He had proven himself capable during the assault of Veekun's Burrow, and even led a daring and bloodless raid to claim another village in eastern Mossflower as a tributary. Markem had promoted him, not to captain just yet, but he had sent him to Luzland to help train Luzland's vermin. The training had a more sinister purpose, and it was blatant.

"Gorfrog. Yer tent be lookin a bit. . .messy."

"Sorry, boss. Hard to store me stuffs, ya know? I'd need a bigger tent."

"Yer tent be big enough, ye just got too much junk." Brashpaw rummaged through the tent, finding an absurd amount of bird bones and some shard of a broken dagger. Normally, Brashpaw would question such things, but he had given up on it. The last excuse of one older rat explaining that why his tent had smelled like something died in it still gave him shivers. Brashpaw reviewed the tent and shook his head "You lot soldiers or children, cause I cannot tell the difference. Yer goin to clean out these tents before we march, an' leave any junk like this behind. Trash produce nothin but disease an' discomfort. I want to see these tents cleaner like as if they were produced new! After that, we need to train ya lot on proper marching, yer still hours behind everyone else."

There was a groan from the vermin, which Brashpaw ignored. He missed using a willow cane to beat vermin into line, but Markem forbade their use. The vermin captain was tall and strong, so at least he didn't have trouble using his paws when need be to get them into line. The vermin captain smiled as his division set themselves to work, up until he heard a loud whistling sound behind him.

"Eh, ya lot! Ya goin to take orders from some dumb beast like that?" The commotion came from a vermin soldier above them. Brashpaw turned to see a larger and stronger beast sitting idly nearby. Brashpaw angrily came over, whipping out his sword to teach the beast a lesson. Brashpaw's division watched amused as the beast bounded up from his relaxed lounging in the clearing and took up an axe for himself. Well armed and armored, the beast was clearly a veteran as Brashpaw interrogated him.

"Ya aren't Luzland vermin, eh."

"Nay, just a wanderer from up north. I heard of Luzland, came to join for some vittles an' loot, mate. All I see is some fool like yerself tho, so theres that. Ya clearly ain't the chief."

"I ain't, but now consider yerself conscripted."

"Ya an' what army, bucko."

Brashpaw nearly laid his paws down on the straggler before he was caught swiftly by him, and pushed to the ground. Not one to take humiliation to heart, Brashpaw bounded up again and this time attempted to use his sword. Several others looked in their direction as the two fought. The scuffle resulted in some broken teeth as the two were separated from each other. Brashpaw looked furiously at the newcomer and angrily yelled "I want this creature flogged!"

Another captain laughed patting the newcomer on the back "This one gots a lot of spirit, an' skill Brashpaw. Whats he doin here anyway?"

"To join a horde, numbskull." The newcomer said bravely. The vermin who surrounded him laughed. Brashpaw brushed himself off and came over "Then consider yerself a new an' loyal member of the Great Vermin Band. Now get into line, or ya will get more then lashed!"

The newcomer was dragged away. Markem may have been spiteful towards conscription, but they were in Luzland's country. A little reinterpretation of such rules never hurt anyone.
_

Garzlo fiddled his paws as he awaited patiently in a forest clearing, sitting down on a small log. The Salamander leader Zokal stood over him like a shadow, his small host of fellow lizard warriors flicked their tongues with occasional boredom. Garzlo wasn't much of a negotiator, that job was better left to Snackfur. Yet Snackfur's disappearance on this important day would have raised suspicions, and thus swallowing his shyness, the ferret decided to lead the 'negotiations' with the coastal vermin gangs. Eastern Mossflower, especially the farther ends, was always brimming with vermin hosts. Most of them were varied, nomadic, and all were horrifically violent. Markem had beaten most into submission with aid of Luzgot before, although after he had left, Luzgot often ignored them to do what they so wished. Some were gangsters who preyed on other vermin, one was a slaving band which tormented woodlander hamlets near the coast, and others were tribals who were aligned with Luzland only by distance. Luzgot's father spent much of his life forming alliances and carefully cultivating these vermin to his side, taking in their warriors for their own. Luzland had very few formal vermin families, the warriors were mostly the run off of these gangs, including Garzlo himself.

Garzlo was not exactly excited to meet with these violent leaders, and was even less excited to be watched over by Luzgot's new captain Zokal. Zokal paced slowly, clearly bored and gluttonously hungry. The lizard was impatient, and ignorant of what was happening.

"Luzzzgot demandssss your sssafety, why do wesss meet with thissss lot? Zokal growssss impatient."

"Luzgot is owed the loyalty of these vermin, mate. Just keep yerself silent while we talk."

"I am hungryyy."

Garzlo sweated a bit while Zokal paced quicker then he had before. The huge lizard disliked being trapped in one place for too long. While Luzgot may have assigned the lizard to helping Garzlo, Garzlo himself could not control the creature. As the two waited, several figures came out of the brush.

Garzlo knew them all by name, each of the warlords he had kept a tab on when it came to their loyalties. They were not vassals or minions of Luzgot, they were more accurately a gaggle of misfits with strong warriors. Luzgot had met with them earlier before, gaining a sizable group of 'volunteers' to join in his horde as they marched south for the campaign against Mossflower, the remaining groups having stayed behind. One gangster was a toothless bandit rat named Jabbik, a one armed weasel and unrepentant murderer named Taznick, and one rich looking fox who whisked a willow cane around as he sat down opposite of Garzlo which was called Pelp. Pelp was a slaver by trade, his gang of vermin were responsible for filling up Luzland's slave pens, and Luzgot paid the fox handsomely. These were not even a quarter of all the major warbands on the coast, but they were the most powerful of them.

"Okay, we be listenen." Began the rat. The other two warlords looked at Zokal, who stood and paced behind Garzlo. Garzlo gulped and began to speak, although he choked often.

"As Luzgot be sayin the last we spoke, we be makin our way down into Gholand soon with the boys. However, as ya three know, Luzgot doesn't like livin under the brown yoke of Markem's new horde. The Great Vermin Band they be callen it. Luzgot had a offer an' plan fer ya all to follow, an if ya wanna be in Luzland's graces, ya will follow it to the letter."

Pelp perked up "Oh? So what, ferret. Markem's Great Vermin Band doesn't sound so bad, eh. Maybe even gives the likes of us some new lands an' plunder. Luzgot be a softie is he is bein pushed around by some southland long tail."

Garzlo spoke up, rather swiftly "Yea, well, ya don't know Markem well then. Markem is just as likely to take away yer vermin an yer slaves to fill his own needs, a need fer warring for all Mossflower. If ya think Luzgot is a softie, ya should see how Markem treats his horde. . .an' the woodlanders.

Jabbik chimed in "Aye, Pelp. Markem is a softie, an he be leaden the entire horde into the abyss. Great vermin horde my bum! However, doesn't make Luzgot any better from the way I sees it. He askin fer our hordebeasts to aid em? An what we usually get in return. Nothin but promises an' half truths."

"Oh be silent, ya idiot." Taznick snapped at Jabbik "Luzgot does us all well before, just cause ya didn't get yer larger share that one time don't mean Luzgot be turnen tail on us."

"Well ya? How about I stick a sabre in yer head to make ya remember how he jipped ya out of that chest of pirate loot we stole from those sea raiders two seasons back? Ya remember that little controversy? Pelp here at least get commissioned, while we have to rely on Luzgot's word alone!"

"Ya leave me out of that dispute, ya flea ridden muck racker!"

"Call me a muck racker again, Pelp, an I'll stick ya!"

There was a sudden and thunderous yell from Zokal. He slammed his trident down onto the ground. "Sssilence! You act like peeping tadpoolsss! The nextsss vermin to ssspeak will be gored, here an' nowsss!"

Zokal had shut up the entire crowd, including Garzlo who was shaking at the sudden outburst. Zokal angrily took up his trident again and looked over the crowd. "Yousss will be under my commandsss. Tell them, little ferretzzz. Tell them Luzzzgot's plan."

Garzlo looked more like a prisoner of Zokal then his overseer, the ferret could barely bring himself to speak as he spoke to the terrified warlords "Luz-Luxgot's orders are this mates. Ya aren't goin to Gholand, ya are stayin here an to await special orders. Get yer hordes ready, and to gather up an' conscript other vermin who ain't fallen under Markem's brown banners. Zokal here will. . .uhhh. . .be leaden the main charge on Luzgot's order. A lot of this will be based on timing, an it gotta be perfect, or we will be facen Markem's full wrath."

Zokal slithered his tongue "If yousss do not support usss, then you will facezzz Luzzzgot's wrath, and mine."

Discussions were short after that, with Garzlo securing the three warlord's loyalties. When the meeting concluded, Garzlo was escorted by Zokal back towards Luzland, with Garzlo keeping as far as he physically could from Zokal. The short journey back to Luzland was short, and soon the group made their way towards the beach where they had met earlier. Garzlo had no clue if the warlords would keep to the plan or not, but he was certain that by the way Zokal commanded his fellow salamanders, several scouts would trail the coastal warlords back to spy on them. If Garzlo had proper spies of his own, he would have done the same, but it yet disturbed him how Zokal was smart in his paranoia. As they entered the beach, Zokal angrily chided Garzlo.

"My tribe will headsss back to our home, and you to yoursss. Tell Luzzzgot we will keep a tight leasssh on hisss minionsss. I will handle thessse affairsss from now on. Zokal will keep our dissstance. For now."

"O-of course, Zokal. Luzgot will get ya new orders, eh. An yer food of course."

Zokal only grunted at him and led himself away with his horde, annoyed by the very presence of Garzlo. The ferret sighed with relief as he made his way back towards Luzland. He was relieved to be away from Zokal, but dreaded having to work with them further. Garzlo was happy to see the walls of Luzland once again. He wanted nothing more then to return to his duties and his plans. He had been busy since the secret meeting between Luzgot and his conspirators. He had sent one hordebeast with a message to Jusbrag, his correspondents with Parb's brother also went well. Garzlo drew a rare smile across his face, things were going well for once, especially once he swaggered up towards the gates of Luzland. Even as the vermin inside snickered at him, a short and pathetic creature unworthy of being called 'chief' or any title by his own hordebeasts, he was content with his lot in life.

Up until he stopped, realizing there was another ferret infront of him whom he recognized immediately, talking extensively with his fellow captain Snackfur.

"Yer timing couldn't have been better, Scarl. Luzgot will be ready to move out soonish."

Scarl turned his attention to Garzlo, the face of Luzgot's spymaster discolored and froze in sheer terror. Scarl gave a smile, noticing almost instantly his peer's horrified look. He took a mental note of it.

"Ya okay there, Garzlo? Ya look like ya have seen a ghost."
_

Scarl and his companion Skabit were cresting up the stone stairs toward Luzland's keep. Scarl had a rather grim smile about him, as he casually discussed recent events with Luzgot's captains Snackfur and Garzlo. Snackfur was truly the most diplomatic of any of Luzgot's captains, willing to talk and discuss with Scarl in a friendly manner. Despite knowing the full danger he was in, Snackfur at least could keep a secret. His concerned eyes would sometimes peak at Garzlo, he wasn't taking things so calmly. Garzlo was absolutely shocked, like as if he truly had seen an undead abomination arise from the dead, and it was walking up towards his chief's keep. Scarl's minion Skabit took mental notes of him, and wondered why his boss 'liked' Garzlo so much. The smaller ferret looked like an utter mess, a dirty and undignified creature who fiddled his thumbs. He looked like a meek and terrified slave more than a vermin captain, his head both low and looking up at Scarl. Garzlo feared the captain and spymaster of Gholand, and for many good reasons. The threats he received earlier in Gholand had been ringing in his head, and the fact Scarl was here meant he likely knew something.

Scarl perked up his conversation with Snackfur "I hope Markem's captains ain't given ya too much trouble, eh?"

"Well, we got a labor shortage now I suppose. We got no slaves again, an' it ain't likely we will get more. Yer garrisons an yer 'tributaries' see to that. Maybe we can trade some off of ya?"

"Maybe, ya will gotta speak to Gutan about that one. We got a lot of new slaves from that little feast, from all over. Maybe we can trade some laborers, but ya would benefit more if ya just. . .well ask the woodlander fer aid."

"Like as if that would happen."

"Ya would be surprised. Ya folk be sitten on all manner of loot, an given it away fer some laborers to help ya repair up this ol' place, trade it fer food an' supplies, works a lot better then builden from scratch."

"I suppose, but we still need cooks."

"Then yer hordebeasts best learn fast then, ha!" Scarl and Snackfur burst into the halls of Luzgot, with Garzlo and Skabit in tow. Luzgot was enjoying a cup of wine, who was in a full getup of his armor. Gazla was helping her boss put on the armor, with Luzgot nearly frightened himself upon seeing the swaying figure of Markem's spymaster enter so easily and without any fuss into his halls. Luzgot collected himself rather swiftly, pushing aside his captain as he greeted Scarl personally. The ferret gave a humble bow to the warlord, who gave a mocking return bow in kind. Luzgot wondered if Scarl was already in on his plot, and was coming to shut him down, but Scarl's ignorance showed when he perked up a casual conversation to explain his arrival.

"Chief Luzgot, Markem sends his humble regards. He was concerned about the bandit attacks by that fox Zangan in the region, an' hopes I can fix it. Until yer ready to leave, ive come to grant me assistance in that manner, in case yer own settlement has been poked an' prodded by that wretch."

"No, thankfully. Although the chafe of the yoke by yer boss on me still pinches me something fierce."

"It was either that or beheading, my lord." Scarl smiled "Not to say ya owe me one or three, but Markem does prefer ya alive fer obvious reasons. At least, I hope for reasons ya will make obvious. The Great Vermin Band is a uniting of warlords, not der submission. This punishment is meant only to keep ya from. . .trying that stunt again. Nothin personal, an all."

Luzgot gritted his fangs "Noted. Well, as ya can see, the horde is gettin ready to muster. I sent Garzlo here out to gather some of the gangs on the coast. Dey will arrive in due course of their volition, but not without me say so. I suspect 500 or more will be added to me number, an another 300 if we are lucky."

"Lucky?"

"Aye. Some ol' mate of mine, a pirate if ya want to say so, promised to swear good by me. A favor an' some bartering an' he will provide a sizable fleet to my cause."

"Our cause." Scarl corrected "In any case, I will be mostly staying here till yer ready to move out. I need to make sure our supply lines aren't thrown into the trash by some angry fox an' his rabid tribesbeasts. I think I'll take yer father's ol' room fer now."

Luzgot's mood shifted, angrily spitting out "What. No, I-"

Cut off from speaking, Scarl reiterated his position "I'm here to make sure all is well, Luzgot. The captains an' their divisions outside are here to make sure of that. I'd hate to tell Markem that all is not so well, eh? Distract him from his campaign, maybe even investigate the likes of ya an' yer 'brave' prodding of some of Markem's tributaries. Would be quite a shame if Markem ever found out about that, right bucko?"

Luzgot's fury did not subside as Scarl and Skabit made themselves comfortable, leaving his presence with his captains. Luzgot had in fact, some time ago, raided some of Markem's 'tributaries' in secret, stole a lot of food and supplies but left the woodlanders intact. He regretted those raids, mostly because Markem never did find out who did the act, but he did suspect. It was a grave consequence to being found out, and the blackmail was only one of many instances which hung over his head. Luzgot suspected he was only alive because Scarl wanted him as a pawn, and he was about ready to do something rash.

He silently whispered to Snackfur "When the fool gets into his room, get some vermin an' kill em. Hide the bodies well."

"As ya command chief." Snackfur was about to head out, but Garzlo quickly peeped up "Wait! No! Don't, my most gracious lord. Let us not be hasty!"

"What? Why not?" Snackfur demanded of Garzlo. Luzgot was only half listening, he was stewing with rage. Garzlo blurted out some rather obvious pointers which seemed to be missed by everyone remaining in the room. "If you kill Scarl an' his obvious spies, we will draw suspicion to us! Markem will come regardless. He wants us to react, my chief. He wants us to make our move before we got everything in place! If we strike him down, he will kill us from the grave he will!"

Luzgot took this realization to heart and angrily pulled Snackfur away from the door "Put yer sword away ya fool, what I said before was a jest! Quickly now before yer noticed, you bumbling idiot!"

Snackfur put his sword slowly back into his sheathe as Garzlo followed his master around, pacing and trying to think of a way to get rid of Markem's living eyes and ears. "We'll have to be extra cautious. No doubt, that rat he brings with him is a spy as well. Try to isolate him if we can."

Garzlo made a suggestion to his chief "Snackfur an' him be kind of chummy, maybe ya can distract him Snackfur?"

"What do you mean chummy?" Luzgot demanded, turning a brutal eye to his captain. Snackfur raised his paws "Chummy? Oh no, we just be discussen recent issues me lord, tryin to make sure everything is all good! If I may make a suggestion, it won't be long fer that lot to figure out we are all in a panic! We needs to be actin normal is all."

"Bah! Useless, the lot of ya! Fine, Garzlo an' I will head out into the field, while you two clowns keep that lot under control in here if need be. The less those two know about our designs, the better. If they did know, Markem would be here already, along with his personal executioner."

Gazla was gitty and quickly attempted to cheer up the depressive group "We will do boss, like the clowns we are!" Her efforts got her a universal sush from the entire group. Thankfully, Scarl and Skabit had not overheard them, and were instead busy in their own quarrel.
_

"My money is on Snackfur." Skabit confidently said, letting down his pack of things with a loud thump into their new and temporary accommodations. It was an old and dusty room, its bedding was meant for a much larger and impressive beast with cobwebs causing Scarl to sniffle. Scarl wasn't so sure "That Gazla. Gazla Cheesethief they call her, I think it may be her. We are in agreement then it wasn't Garzlo?"

"No doubt. The traitor must be Snackfur. Gazla seems meek, a loyal softie more fearful than others. Our efforts should be on the true brains an' brawn of Luzland."

"Brawn, sure. Not brains." Scarl laid out his bed for himself and then set his own pack upon it. He took out a strange device, a small invention of his own. It was a large hand crack for which he could bore holes swiftly into wood. He threw it at Skabit who caught it with ease. "More likely than not, they know my explanation is a load of shit. Use this, start boring holes in the major rooms, in nice an' hidden places. Preferably without being seen."

"Understood boss. . .for a price." Skabit gave a wicked smile. Scarl returned it was an annoyed frown. "Price? Ya work for me, tis the best reward ya get."

"I was thinken boss. Ya pay me pittance compared to Kudgel. This be dangerous work an' all, I at least deserve a bit of a raise."

"Ya are paid twice as much as any hordebeast, Skabit."

"Twice of nothin, is still nothin."

Scarl rolled his eyes "Ya are paid very well, believe it or not, an on my own dime. If ya want real cash, ya should have stayed in that slaving band I found ya in to start with, if ya remember so fondly. Ya know, the one which wanted to sell ya to Markem fer vittles? Start a side business when ya aren't worken fer me, an' ya can roll in all the coin ya want."

Skabit angrily took the tool and went out the door, with Scarl pinching his head. It was hard to come by good spies, but Skabit at least got his work done well enough, even if he was a greedy creature of habit. Not raising his extensive pay was becoming a game within itself, a game he didn't really wish to play. Scarl took out another tool from his pack, a small vial. He played with it in his paws, a small little emergency if he needed to do something rather drastic. It was a simple and ironic thing, a poison Luzgot tried to use on Markem.


Karlgo was trodding along the dirty paths of Gholand in his muddy boots, lorded over by two guards he was familiar with. The fox may have been the steward for the Great Vermin Band, but realistically he was mostly the overglorified secretary to Markem in general. Markem had just returned to his court, overseeing some smaller issues, while he and his guards passed by the vermin households. His main objective today was to deal with a unpleasurable aspect of his duties; dealing with the toxic relationship between Gholand and Great Marsh.

Great Marsh was wealthy, it sat on a large silver mine which allowed it considerable influence over the vermin. Parb didn't need a large army, just wealth, and she could drown out any other warlord with bribes. Great Marsh had tried to bribe him and other captains before, all of it failed miserably only due to Markem's vigilance. Ultimately however, Parb's silver chains still creeped out from their marshy interior and into Gholand via other means. Markem needed silver, primarily for various reasons which Karlgo used to keep the captains happy, the warlords pleased, and the tributaries content. Coin did after all make things simple, and Karlgo appreciated simplicity.

Karlgo however was not very happy with his arrangement, for likely he would have to deal with Goba once again. Goba had a long list of nasty habits, and he was never happy in Gholand. Karlgo dreaded having to pull Gashan away from his duties to find slaves to tend to the easily angered mink, and he was always oddly specific. He still remembered the time when Goba was in Gholand, nearly throwing Markem's carefully crafted alliance with Parb off a cliff when the mink was not granted proper greeting by one of Markem's soldiers. It took some time to calm the vicious creature down, and Goba nearly caused an incident when he drew his sword on the poor creature.

When Karlgo and his guards came up to the gates, they would normally deal with Goba and bring the shipment of silver from Great Marsh into the main storage vault in Gholand, with Karlgo having it counted out by trusted vermin under him. This time was different, much to his surprise and relief, when a different mink greeted him. It was a low bending creature with a great white hood, the creature humbly bowed to Karlgo and introduced herself in an unfamiliar feminine voice. "Greetings, you must be Karlgo. I was told to greet you."

"Oh? You are not Goba. Where is he, if I may ask?" Karlgo looked around, hoping that his feign hope of not having to deal with the mink would not be suddenly stolen from him.

"Goba is back in Great Marsh, overseeing our garrison. I am Danza, my lord, lady Parb's most humble servant. I have come to grant Markem his much needed tribute from Great Marsh for his war effort. My lady will come shortly."

"I suspect as much. You come in good time too, I will need this to pay for the vittles fer the entire army." Karlgo overlooked the boxes upon boxes of minted coins. Vermin normally used an 'honor' system when it came to trade, trading one thing of worth for something of equal worth. Karlgo slipped his paws between the freshly minted coin, all depicting a mink's face. It was an unfamiliar face, all Karlgo knew is that it was the original mink ruler of Great Marsh, and now he was just a nameless dead beast, forever forgotten. He may have been immortalized through coin, but his name is forever lost regardless, for most of the vermin who traded in his face could not read the writing upon it.

"Most good then, me and my company will stay in Gholand till my lady comes. I apologize if it is not as much as we wished, labor shortages and all."

Karlgo lifted an eyebrow to this "I see, you will need to speak to Gashan about that kind of thing, but it will be enough regardless." Karlgo watched as the cart of much needed coin was hauled off deeper into Gholand. The mink and her entourage entered Gholand, but did not follow it. Set loose into her new playground, the hunching mink disappeared from the group, and vanished into the busy streets of Gholand.
_

Two slow hosts arrived early in the afternoon, as Markem was enjoying his meal inside. When informed of the two armies, Markem already knew who had arrived, as the two massive vermin armies soon were making camp outside of Gholand's walls. Granaries were spilled open and cooks were busily making grand meals as the vast host clustered nearby. Markem and his two slaves watched from the walls, all of them impressed by the arrival of the two armies of Kylan Bignose and Hazul Leffer. The tents of both vermin warlords stretched like a sea across the small clearing of Gholand, even spilling into the forests behind them, as carts of food and supplies were transformed into makeshift depots for the two armies.

'Dirt' and 'Mud' were looking more and more concerned as the day of the supposed invasion drew nearer, but both held onto some hope some event would happen to delay it. Markem however looked on with a grim joy, his two most closest allies had come early, and he was ready to meet with them.

"I've never seen so many vermin in one place! I didn't even know Jusbrag had that many." 'Mud' said shocked and dismayed. Markem shrugged "1,500. Or so. Numbers no longer matter at this point, we now have a vast host far larger den any warlord in recent memory, dat be fer certain."

'Dirt' snidely corrected his master "We?"

"Don't be snide wit me words, otter. I gotta prepare meself fer meeting with those two. . .without Scarl around."

"I've seen you talk down assassins, sir. I'm certain an insane sorcerer and a mad tyrant won't do you much thinking." 'Dirt' said rather smugly. Markem was not so certain, he looked over at the black flags of Hazul's armies, as he could clearly see the small and terrifying warlord waltz with his retinue. He also saw Hazul was followed by his clansbeasts, his brother, and his small family. Yet all paled in comparison to his seer, a black fox who whispered sweet nothings into his twitching ears.

Kylan and his retinue was likely on the other side of the wall, and Markem tried to actively avoid him. It wasn't because he disliked Kylan openly, it was more due to the fact how enamored the fat weasel was with him. The idiot tyrant of Jusbrag would often live up to his clownish nature, pulling the poor rat to various feasts, speaking to him like a close friend, and discussing unimportant topics. It was likely Kylan would exhaust Markem from his campaign before he even started it. Markem was joined by his sheriff Vake, the silent and grim fox pushing aside 'Dirt' from his master and coming up beside Markem. 'Dirt' allowed this, because with the few conversations he could ever pull out of Vake he could figure he was loyal and harmless to Markem. Markem was comfortable around Vake, even when other vermin were not, and the fox looked over the host with a bored expression.

"I take it Kylan is already at the gates then?"

"Gashan is there, arguing with Kylan. Shall I dispense yer justice, chief?"

"Nay, I'll handle it. 'Mud', why don't ya go back home an' get me court all tidy an' ready. I'd like to meet the group in me office. Make sure the Jusbrag and Veekun's Burrow vermin don't start killen each other, Vake. If ya can do it."

"It will be done, chief."

'Dirt' awkwardly got out of Vake's way as he crested down from the walls, followed shortly by 'Mud'. 'Dirt' came back to the side of Markem, still looking over the walls at his gathered host. He was thinking, which 'Dirt' could see. "Something the matter sir?"

"Not yet, 'Dirt'. I just hope whatever foolery Scarl is getting up to was worth all this. I'd rather be back in Pelg the Tall's horde right now if I could avoid dealing with the headache of Kylan and Hazul blasting their concerns between me poor ears."

"You and me both sir." 'Dirt' said with understanding.
_

Olda Rivercross and her son Kelp were at the bottom of the stairs which led to Markem's keep, the large and grand hall which stood in the center of Gholand which loomed over vermin and woodlander alike. Olda may have been an older otter, but she felt like a shy and young beast looking up at the grand stone stairs. She held the paw of her youngster in her paw, and a wash bucket filled with water in another. Giving a reassuring sigh to herself, she was about to take her first step when 'Mud' appeared. He came up to her and greeted her kindly.

"Having trouble, mam?" He asked with a smile. Olda did not find the smile reassuring, 'Mud' looked tame and normalized to an irregular situation that she and many others found themselves in. She nodded "Oh. 'Mud' ain't it? I was called up to help clean this. . .ummm. . .manor. Or keep. I'll be up shortly."

"Take your time, mam. I know it is odd, but Markem is always true to his word." 'Mud' sat down at the edge of the stairs and looked up at Markem's home, or more accurately, where he slept. Home was far away, burned away many seasons ago. His smile faded, it was a beautiful thing now, but he still remembered all the sweat and toil it took from slave beasts to build it and the fortress which imprisoned him. Regaining some confidence, 'Mud' helped shepherd Olda and her son up the stairs.

Once the three were in the great hall, Olda and her son began their work. The otter widow was happy to see the keep empty, as 'Mud' went about collecting his own cleaning tools. With help from Kelp, Olda began to work on cleaning up after the vermin warlord. Despite Markem's mannerisms towards her and the others, she still found it disgusting how the rat could live in such a beautiful home but leave all manner of stains and trash. She was at least content when Markem chose her and her son to be added as help to the keep, as cleaning the great hall gave was less stressful then cooking for the vermin barracks she was originally assigned to. As Olda was busily brushing things away, she was joined by 'Mud' and Yala who came out to help. 'Mud' kept a low voice as he spoke "Markem has visitors, the warlord kind, so we'll start out here and go into the office. Me and Yala will handle this, if you would like Olda, you could head towards the kitchens."

"Thanks, but I think I fear Markem and the warlords less then that. . .rat." Olda referred to Markem's cook Rigpaw, the insane creature who did not make the best first impressions. Yala chuckled a bit at this "Understandable."

The group got to work, an average routine which 'Mud' had been doing for years with abandon. The group was swift, as the group of otters quickly rummaged out the trash and garbage of the keep's inner court. Despite all their work, 'Mud' knew full well it would get trashed again. Markem improved in all manner of things except cleaning after himself, which he had somehow gotten worse with in time. Yala joked that it was mostly because he had two woodlanders to do that for him, which 'Mud' couldn't help but agree with.

Olda was busy in her work, up until she noticed someone was missing. Looking around, she noticed her son Kelp was not nearby. Having been scrubbing at the floor, Olda was in a partial panic. She was relieved to see her son coming out from the halls leading to the kitchens, followed shortly by two smaller rats which made Olda's blood run cold. Mard and Maiz, the sons and daughter of Markem, had come out with a small flakey piece of bread, sharing it with Kelp. Olda was about to run over to quickly grab her son, but was calmed down by Yala.

"Don't worry yer rudder, those two be harmless. Don't make any sudden movements though."

"What? Why?" Olda looked concerned, she wasn't afraid of children, but rather their parents. Yala shifted her head towards the opposite side of the room, where a hidden guard was looking over them all with a bored expression. He was an older beast, who looked like any other member of Markem's horde except for one key difference. He wore black and baggy pants, indicating he was a former member of Kasg the Craven's evil host.

Yala spoke softly at Mard and Maiz "Ya two rascals up to no good I see. Come youngsters, we got no time for eaten just yet."

The three youngsters quickly gulped down their meal, as Olda looked on shocked as 'Mud' and Yala were quick to get them to help working. 'Mud' liked to play games with Markem's children, and it was a relatively easy thing to do. The two active youngsters introduced their new found friend to one of 'Mud's' favorite games, jumping onto a large wet mop as the otter wheeled them about to various spots on the floor, pretending to be a group of sailors as they swept up. "Alright me mateys, there be another stain over here! Look out for those troubled waters!"

"Look over there 'Mud'! Another spot, I be seein it!" Mard joyfully yelled. Olda and Yala were warm in heart, especially as Kelp felt at ease as he climbed about with his new found friends. 'Mud' and his small cadre of pretend sailors were running all over the place, and it felt rather joyous for him. To 'Mud' personally, giving Mard and Maiz the chance at fun he had never gotten growing helped him get through the day, especially since Markem being the vermin he was, was far more interested in the affairs of his horde. Yala and Olda kept up their work, the mood almost festive up until a voice cracked from the halls. "Mard! Maiz!"

Sheera came down from her room, tapping her foot in an angry manner. Mard and Maiz quickly came over to her, happily wagging their thin tails. She picked up her youngest Maiz. Sheera was coming over to Kelp who was frozen in terror of the gray rat, but was quickly collected by Olda. Olda stood in front of her son and was looked up and down by Sheera with a vicious glance "Slave beast, get back to work. You and your youngster will not be told twice, at least I hope."

'Mud' came up to Sheera with his fake smile "I am sorry, mam. We were just hav-"

"You will be silent 'Mud'. You work beasts are here to work, not to play and have fun. Now get to your duties, or I will damn well make sure you end up in the stone pit. Personally."

Sheera was practically pulling away her youngsters and disappeared into the main keep. Yala sneered as soon as she was out of sight "Mean ol' hag. They will always look down at us, an' expect us to clean their boots."

'Mud' gave a loud sigh "Aye. They will. At least they don't beat us."

Yala quickly corrected him, as she set off to continue her work "Yet."
_

Markem and 'Dirt' awaited near the gates of Gholand, already hearing the loud snarls and angry yelling of two loud and easily angered vermin warlords. Neither of the two had to guess who was who, as the gates were opened and the two parties of Kylan Bignose and Hazul Leffer entered into Gholand with their most elite retinues, servants, and guards. Kylan and Hazul were angrily insulting one another, as was their typical routine when it came to the two's long winded discussions. They may have been in Markem's most inner circle, but neither could agree on a single thing. 'Dirt' didn't bother to even guess why neither warlord liked one another, which he thought was perhaps more healthier for him.

Kylan was being serviced by a hedgehog slave who hurried and weaved around, picking up a knocked over tankard and collecting it beneath his paws. Kylan's brother Loc and the Jusbrag captain Nosecheese were practically drawing their weapons. Hazul on the other hand had his tribe with him, his seer Dala and his own brother Kajam were more calm and looked upon the Jusbrag rabble like barbarians. The two were as different as night and day, both hordes had different respective colors and held drastically different ideals. Kylan's horde was diverse, large, and filled with all manner of vermin life from settling sea raiders to northern hordebeasts. Hazul's water rat clansbeasts had no such diversity, but were clearly well disciplined and deeply pagan. The only members of Hazul's retinue which were not water rats was Dala and the two Noonvale otter slaves who stood at the back, carrying Dala's large bags of religious tools and strange concoctions.

The two only silenced themselves when Markem spoke up. "Hazul. Kylan, welcome back. Good to see ya are all in. . .active spirit."

"Aye! I'd be a bit more active then Markem if this flea bitten tribal walloper weren't tryin to gut me with his utter boredom!"

"Speak ill of the spirits, will you? I should have you split open Kylan, and all of Jusbrag burned for your ill talk!"

"Enough! You two are equals under me horde, an ya will act like it at least while in Gholand. Kylan, Hazul, I was to speak with ya. Alone preferably."

Hazul angrily spat "Not with this tub of lard, Markem. I barely stand his presence as it is!"

"Well, can ya at least tolerate him till we are done with Mossflower, Hazul? If your spirits haven't struck him down yet, then certainly our good friend Kylan be doin somethin right?"

It was a jest, but Hazul did seriously think it over. He only gave a nod, much to Markem's disappointment. Hazul was dubiously lacking in humor, and never cracked a joke in all the seasons Markem knew him. Hazul dismissed his retinue "Meet me back in my pavilion Kajam. This will only be but a moment."

"As ya say, brother."

Never to be outdone, Kylan yelled at Loc who was awaiting his own orders "Bring up me host in me own pavilion, mate! Make sure a good an' hot meal be ready fer me! Await orders fer rationing as well!"

"Uh. As ya say chief?"
_

Markem, Hazul, and Kylan entered into the well cleaned office of Gholand's keep. Markem was in a good mood the moment he entered, with 'Dirt' taking his position at his side and folding his paws. The group entered into the keep, with Markem being greeted by his wife with a kiss and his children running up to greet him as well the moment they entered. His servants were unseen, having moved onto other tasks. 'Dirt' use to envy his brother for being the household's cleaner, being left alone more to his own devices while he was bored out of his mind being the rat warlord's bodyguard. He kept a close eye on Hazul and Kylan, as they spoke to Markem in length.

"We gather our armies, mate, but I do hope ya know what ya be doin. I was thinkun, Markem, why Mossflower? Kasg in his hayday nearly overwhelmed Noonvale, an' even then they be a land of castles an' farms. Mossflower be nuthun but forests an' hamlets."

"Mossflower also is a major stepping stone fer vermin, an be me home Kylan. We built Gholand here, an' I intend to stay. Besides, we will deal with Noonvale soon enough, but on me own terms. Mossflower an' Salamanderstron be the current threat to us. If we take Noonvale, our power here will wane an' we will be attacked by the hares in due course, an' Riftguard."

"Riftguard be nuthin but a bunch of gentle beasts, barely a threat as it is."

"If it weren't a threat Kylan, you an' Pelchovar wouldn't have floundered yer sieges against it. Besides, the northern highlands be spent as it is, an' I am set on Mossflower. It may be forests now, but I see us builden forts an' new homes fer our own. Much like Gholand, all across the whole of the land."

Hazul piped up, sitting comfortably in his chair "As you wish, but we still have the Long Patrol to contend with. Our few fight with them have not ended well."

"True, but we got plans fer that. Tussock is our main concern, which is where we will strike first an' foremost. However, I did not call the two of ya here to discuss our tactics. Not yet anyway?"

Both warlords responded with a joint "Oh?"

"The Great Vermin Band. What does it mean?" Markem asked "How are we a united band if we are all fighten an' plotten against each other like Luzgot. I meant my words when I made me first announcement on it, an' I got things to tell ya both. I want you both to adopt new. . .ideas from me horde an' bring em into yer own."

Hazul and Kylan at first spoke to criticize him, but Markem spoke down at them "I don't want ya to be subservient to me, thinkun of me like some mad tyrant comin to make ya vassals. I want ya to hear me out first. Kylan, yer horde suffers from slave shortage and resource shortages. Yer vermin are ill trained an' ya hand out promotions on a whim. I would like ya to consider an offer from me to you; I want you to free half of yer slaves."

Kylan nearly spat out in anger but Markem calmed him down as he continued "I know it be sounden odd, but again, hear me out. Yer taskmasters are like any other vermin. I know how ya treat the gentle beasts, an' they do not last long. They don't grow families an' aren't as healthy as they are here in Gholand. Ya know how i deal with labor shortages? I contract em out from the villages. I want ya to set up yer own tributaries, to build mines an' forestries. To build ports an' fishing communities. I'd even ask ya to consider conscripten the vermin from yer own horde to such labor tasks, get the weaker beasts worken an to pay em good to work. Jusbrag got a lot of potential as a bulwark against northern threats an' a net fer getting new vermin into our ranks, an' I'd like it to be a jewel in this great alliance we gots."

Kylan looked uncomfortable, but he couldn't help but agree. Markem was right of course, but Kylan hated to admit it. He only gave a meek nod "A bit controversial I suppose, but I'll have to send a captain back an' a good host just to enforce it. Ya think that system will work in Jusbrag?"

"Aye. I ultimately want all slave beasts in me horde to be treated the same, cause I know the casualties all too well from hordes. Strong an' good beasts die due to an overzealous whip master, an' all of a sudden the entire horde has to be supported by exhausted children who die even quicker. Believe me, me system is worken." Markem's eye eventually turned to Hazul who was at first amused by Kylan being told down. "As yer ya Hazul, ya listen good an' clear."

"I and the spirits have nothing to be ashamed of, since I keep no slave beasts Markem."

"Well, I know that be a lie, but this horde is less fer the gentle creatures an' more for the vermin. In particular, I got a lot to say to the likes of ya on that matter. I know full well ya despise any who aren't water rats, an ya kill or banish any creature that comes near tribe except for a few clear exceptions. I am going to ask ya to stop that. Immediately."

"What do you mean 'stop that'? They trespass on my land, I have a right to do with them as I please."

"Those vermin flee from other hordes or are looking for hordes to join. Yer tribe is well off and I cannot force ya to do much, but I am going to ask ya to expand yer roster. I am certain yer gods won't give ya much of a second though to see foxes, ferrets, an' weasels swearing to yer cause. They don't need to be in captainships, but they do need to find safety under the brown banner. That goes fer woodlanders as well, Hazul, whether ya like it or not."

"They are not of my tribe, Markem, and these Mossflower cretans do not swear to my spirits, and in fact mock them."

Kylan blurted out "An they are right to do so!"

Markem sighed "Then let them understand yer faith, Hazul. Let them understand yer issues and swear onto yer gods. If not, let them settle nearby at least. We either all are marching together or falling together. Ya must understand me reasoning on that at least." Hazul sighed and thought it over. Markem again chimed in "I bring this up fer the good of not only yer tribe, but fer the good of me own as well."

"Fine. If they swear their souls to my cause, I will allow them into my tribe. I can agree to these reforms."

"Oh good, cause ya two will be me speakers on these matters. I want every warlord under me embracing me reforms, an in return, ya can remain in this little 'position' of power. If ya get me drift."

Hazul and Kylan nodded. Markem gave a wide smile, his plans of unification were coming closer together.
_

In a dirty alleyway of Gholand, two children were passing on by, rushing pass vermin soldiers and laborers. Not even the slaves working inside the fort noticed as a small mouse and rat rushed past respective adults and ducked into the slave quarter. The rat was an orphan, who had snuck into Gholand's horde by pretending to be with another larger beast. The mouse was a slave, his own parents were working elsewhere who scratched beneath the chafing neck rope which collared him. The two slowly made their way into a hidden section, going in between some small tents where a small cloth hid a larger area which connected to a barracks. The young rat perked up "Look at this, mate! I bets Mrs. White will give us a nice package of vittles fer this!"

The mouse shushed him "Be quiet ya idiot. If any of dem folk hear ya, you will be disappeared like Fimsy! Ya know how Mrs. White is."

"Flimsy? Ya mean that vole? Bah. Ya are talken all manner of nonsense. I swears I seen him around."

"Ya well, shut up. Not all voles look the same ya know."

"Says you!" The rat pushed the mouse, but were interrupted when a fox cub peaked his head out from the hole with the cloth door on it. He snarled at them both "Shhh! Ya tryin to get everyone's attention! Come inside befer Mrs. White strangles ya both!" The two entered through the hole and into a small and hidden room. All around were groups of cuddled orphans of various species both vermin and woodlander, most eating well. One rabbit youngster who was new the group was chewing happily down on a piece of scone. A ferret youngster was happily wrestling with a younger squirrel for a piece which neither could agree to get on. In the far end, a white cloaked figure stood over them all.

"Now me pretties, no need to fight just yet. Here, another piece fer ya lot." The figure tossed a scone at a hungry group of Gholand's youngsters. Most younger creatures both vermin and woodlander knew of 'The White Court', a tiny hidden room in the slave quarter run by the generous Mrs. White. She was not much a matron as much as trader, for she traded valuable vittles for something mundane of the hidden youngsters. The rat and mouse quickly came up to her and adorably looked hungrily at a scone held by the figure.

"Oh. You two look like you have a lot to tell."

"Oh yes! Yes we do. We got some word we do, we saw some big fat weasel an' a tiny rat enter into the keep we did. Following Markem!" It was mundane information, but it was information none-the-less. The figure tossed a scone at both of them, who generously thanked the figure. In the shadowy torch light of the room, the white cloaked figure collected information from her little minions, as Great Marsh's spymaster took mental notes. Danza wondered what Hazul, Markem, and Kylan were up to, but quickly was joined in by another figure.

A younger otter named Kelp krept through the hole, and appeared before Danza and the others. Kelp was new to the whole thing, and was Danza's most prized possession. Danza crept personally closer to Kelp who squeaked with a fearful yelp. "Tell me little one, tell me, did you happen to listen onto what Kylan, Markem, an' Hazul spoke of?" Kelp gave a nod, and was rewarded with a prized piece of candy for his effort which he chowed down hungrily at. He looked up at Mrs. White, Danza's alias named after her white garb and years of ghosting in secret amongst the orphans of Gholand.

"Mam, ya said ya could help me an' ma get free, right?"

"Of course dearie. I can help you an' yer ma get free to go to Great Marsh I can, a free an' beautiful place filled with many good woodlanders like yerself. You'll like it there." The two whispered "However, only once you gather some more information for me, then we can discuss such things. Now, get ready for tomorrow an' listen well me good Kelp. Your freedom for your mum an' yerself will depend on it."


Luzgot angrily strode before his entire host, lazily looking over his hordebeasts who looked miserable to finally gaze upon their boss. Luzgot was taller, stronger, and smarter then the entire host put together, all of them knew of their boss's fury. The whole of the horde, or more accurately what had remained, had been lining up with their mixture of weapons. One weasel fumbled his spear after trying to line up straight, and it fell in Luzgot's path. The rat warlord took up the weapon and bashed the creature over the head with the blunt end, and angrily gave it back to him. Luzgot was less disappointed as he looked over what he could only declare a failure of a horde. Snackfur, who was beside him, looked over his horde a bit differently, with pride.

Snackfur didn't see a bumbling group of failing fools who couldn't hold up weapons, but warriors who were training hard and had gotten into line on his orders. While Luzgot scoffed at how unimpressive his horde was in comparison to the healthier and more disciplined horde which Markem built, Snackfur's soldiers were certainly trying their best to not only impress him, but also impress their chief. Snackfur attempted to cheer up Luzgot who held his paws behind his back, looking over one group of soldiers to the next, having nothing good or decent to say to them.

"We improved our marchen capability quite a bit since last week, chief. They can march up an' down the forest line at a decent pace."

"Oh, tis nice, good thing to know my horde can retreat in a direction after being routed at a brisk pace." Luzgot chided him "Look at these idiotic fools! Barely able to hold a single spear between the lot of them! What kind of captain are ya, Snackfur, if we cannot even have a single group that looks like a proper group of warriors! This lot can barely hold spears let alone march in single file!"

Snackfur tried to ignore his boss's general distaste, but could understand his general discomfort towards his own army when a literal comparison was not far off. Markem's captains had formed into new divisions, and were just finishing up their training regiment as they were setting down to eat. A cart of food from a village of hedgehogs had rolled up to provide tribute to the vermin, which the hungry soldiers were pouncing on in due haste. The captains had turned Luzland's untrained and dirty vermin into an impressive host in their own right, and were getting ready to move out. Luzgot's own horde looked pathetic and sickly, most of the vermin were exhausted from their long hours of working without their servants to tend to them, and the once lazy and content hordebeasts had worked hard to earn their tiny and meager rations. Many of Luzgot's horde were greedily eyeing the feasts outside, with Markem's trusted 'captains' having their camp cooks fix up decent meals which Luzland's vermin had never enjoyed under Luzgot.

Snackfur knew this all apart from an elaborate trick, to convince Luzgot's vermin to switch their loyalties. He knew full well that the hedgehogs who sat in the back, watching their food being devoured, would starve in the coming winter. This feasting was just a means for the captains to enforce new loyalties on Luzgot's vermin and weaken his own lord. Snackfur found it insidious, smart but insidious. Luzgot angrily chided vermin left and right, and quickly made his decision.

"Snackfur, I want ya to do something useful for once in yer rotten life. You are to drill this lot of useless bunglers and thieves till their paws run red! I want to see them bounding up walls an' to be so disciplined that they will stand in a line even as they be dyin!" Luzgot smacked at a rat who had been half asleep. "Any one of you idiots who even thinks of bein lazy while on this campaign will be dealt with harshly! I will have ya strapped in chains an ya will be carrying the horde's entire weight fer the rest of yer miserable days! Now get moving! Move!"

Snackfur called out to the vermin "Two formations, ya lot of useless idiots! Half of ya inside with Gazla, the rest out here! Were goin on a march! Move!" The group led out, being led by Luzgot and Snackfur on a forced march. It was soon to be time for their day to march to Gholand, and they would have to be prepared. Garzlo and Scarl watched from the walls of Luzland, watching from afar. Scarl couldn't help but give a devilish smile. If this idiot is still planning to betray Markem, I have very little to worry about.
_

The newcomer to the vermin host was enjoying his meal in peace, until he noticed Luzgot was pulling away with half his horde to practice their forced march through the woods. Next to him was a Luzland brown rat named Karst who had been conscripted into Markem's army who angrily watched the rat pull away. "Would ya look at that, the boss did come out. How did ya know, stranger?"

The stranger had become a popular beast around his division, a snide talking vermin who was quick to make friends with everyone except his commanders. The newcomer slurped on a bowl of hot porridge "Tells you what, that Luzgot be old blood, but all warlords need to look der hordes in the face from time to time. No time better then the present, right?"

"I suppose." The rat ate his own meal, the two looking out over at the marching group. The newcomer whispered to him "Say mate, this Luzgot. I was suspecten a real rat, not some small wretch. Whats up with that?"

"Luzgot be the son of our previous boss which Luzgot slew. Twas quite a show, mate. Should have been there. Now he lives alone fer the most part in his little palace and we muck about fer his bidden. Bah, Markem an' Luzgot be both the same the ways they be treatun us."

"Hey mate, no reason to be so quick to talk poorly of both of the bosses." The newcomer chided him.

"An' why not? Luzgot be an incompetent an' mean reducer of rations, an Markem is a softie who treats slaves better then the lot of us! I say to hells with them both, but this Markem sounds at least reasonable mate."

"Ya thinkun of something?"

The deceptive rat whispered to the newcomer "I be thinkun of somethin alright. Why don't we head out on our own, eh? We could slip out past the trees, head towards the eastern cliffs. Plenty of room there to be in. I can be the brains, an ya the brawn. Start our own little gang."

The newcomer chuckled lowly "I got a better idea mate. Come with me." The newcomer went up, avoiding the eyes of his own overseer who was busy arguing with fellow captains. The two ambitious vermin sat next to a group of Luzland rats with bows, enjoying their meager rations. The newcomer introduced Karst to them, even though the rat knew the vermin already. "I believe ya met, this be Jaker an' his brothers. I take it ya enjoyin some decent meal, mates?"

"Decent? I wouldn't even feed this to a slave! Bah, things I do to get inside Luzland's keep an' drink me fill."

"Now be a good time to do it." The newcomer spoke slowly and quietly, sitting between the archers. Karst followed suit and asked him "How ya know these pair of fools?"

"I like talken to new mates of course, that ol' bully we call cap'n be all over me business since I came. He thinks me tame now after a few wackings, but I be thinken bigger. An I bets ya are all thinkun pretty big as well. I gots a plan, gents, a plan to get in Markem's good graces."

Jaker and his small group of archers listened on in, with Karst surprised by the newcomer's sudden want for promotion. He listened in as well as the newcomer set out his plan. "Here be the plot. While Luzgot be marchen out wit his horde, we ambush him proper, eh? We fired into him, an' if we miss, we rush him with swords. Ya lot good at firing a bow from brush, right?"

"Aye, fer the most part. What about after that though?"

"We retreat a ways, get chummy with the warlord who comes after, an we become captains. . .an' do it again of course! Until we get all the way to Markem. Luzland could be ours in less then a season I bets, but we best be hurrying now, while Luzgot be only with a small part of his horde."

With a last bite to their meal, the vermin archers nodded and turned to the newcomer who commanded them about "Slip by the guards, tell em' you are hunting. I will scout ahead in the woods an' meet ya near a clearing. Leave obvious tracks for me an' Karst to follow."

Karst looked at the newcomer like an oddity, and awaited for the small group of creatures to go off. He asked the newcomer "What ya thinkun? That ambush will never work, an ya know it."

"Those idiots don't, and besides, we aren't ambushing Luzgot."

"Then who we ambushing?"

"Them."
_

Luzgot was in a foul mood, but this was the usual mood he was in when out and about. He was missing his bed more and more, and if he wasn't deprived of slaves, he would have ordered it to be packed up in a cart along with his pavilion for the campaign. Despite his laziness, Luzgot was marching far ahead of Snackfur and his host, and in his spiked armor. The warlord preferred to be alone, angrily mumbling to himself and cursing his luck. First time I met Markem was on a battlefield, an the cretan beat me fair an' square. However, he knew he could never win a true war against me, so I got me chances wrapped up in dis whole thing. I will beat the brownnosed serf an' his whole wretched family! I am going to turn his little warband into me own, which is what I deserve! Luzgot seethed and looked behind, seeing Snackfur and his army coming up behind at a brisk pace.

"Well, you slack jawed scum! I want to see ya moving like ya promised! If I am keeping up better then you lot, ya are failing me an' Luzland!" Luzgot was turning around when he heard a sudden shriek. An arrow came out from the brush and landed into Luzgot's footpaw. The rat screamed out and swiftly ducked into his horde he had just chastised with a demon's speed. Snackfur angrily called out "Shield up! Protect the chief!" Snackfur lacked a shield himself, but harshly took one from one of his own vermin. Two other arrows came out of the brush, but landed in random directions with any harm. There was some surprised yelps as Snackfur only tried to guess who was attacking them. No coastal gang would have dared such a bold attack.

Luzgot called out "Grab yer javelins an'' fire into the bushes! We are being ambushed ya idiots!" The vermin did as commanded, firing into the brush blindly. It was a rather stupid tactical mistake, as the vermin fired several bolts into the brush blindly. Moments passed as Snackfur aided his boss in pulling out the arrow as the vermin formed a wall of bodies around them. There was a moment of silence as Luzgot and Snackfur saw a figure come out of the bushes. It was an archer whom Snackfur left behind with Gazla, who was grasping his neck. With a bloody paw, he tried to say something, but a javelin was caught in his back and he fell over dead. Another figure came out, a brown rat whom Snackfur knew by name as Karst. The strange vermin in front of them waved at them as Luzgot limped forward, angrily chiding Snackfur.

"You lead me into an ambush you idiot, where are our scouts!"

"Sir, the Gholand vermin took all our scouts."

"Then find new ones, you idiot." Luzgot came forward to look over the two vermin rescuers. Both gave a humble bow to him. Karst spoke up "We saw some traitors headen into the forest chief, we followed behind. They were plannen to gut ya fer over a week they were!"

Snackfur chided them "If that were the case, ya should have told us."

The newcomer corrected him "He wanted to, boss. Markem's goons were in on it, wanted to succeed. They be conscripting us, an' I be thinkun fer your safety." The newcomer smiled greedily as Luzgot seemed impressed by his looks, his strength, and willingness to join him.

"Aye, ya do, eh? I could use a new group of bodyguards, proper bodyguards to match that of me rivals. Yer slayin of these assassins is quite good, an' I take as a means accepten ya into me service. Fer you Karst, ya will rejoin me horde in secret, as to not upset Markem's little cadre of fools. Now get in line, we aren't done just yet."

Snackfur came forward "Sir, this be one of ours. Jaker he be, an his brothers I imagine. We should investigate."

"Investigate what? Dead beasts? Get back into line an' move out. We'll have a good talk with Gazla after this."

"Sir we shou-"

"Snackfur, if we head back an' get laughed at by Markem's little cadre of captains fer one small ambush, ya will personally be tied to a target an' used for practice by the archers we will replace this traitorous lot with. Have this thing put int the bushes an' left there. Have those two follow close behind, I will want to meet em' personally in my court later." Luzgot turned to give a grim smile at the newcomer and Karst. Snackfur got them into line and marched them off. Karst whispered to the newcomer "This better work, mate, or we will be dead."

"Just follow me lead, rat. Luzgot won't even see it comin."
_

Luzgot returned from the forest after his forced march, and limped to the gates alongside his new bodyguards and Snackfur. Gazla was worried to tell Snackfur of a desertion of some of their archers and quickly strode up to them. "Boss, ya happen to. . .chief! What happened to yer leg!" Gazla was late to notice Luzgot's leg was poorly bandaged and the rat warlord pushed her aside. He said nothing as he went inside with Gazla having to inform Snackfur of the desertion, only to be informed herself of the attempted assassination. Gazla looked horrified, and feared for her own life, but was calmed down by Snackfur.

"Chief is in a good mood all things considering. If he wasn't, I'd have sent a scout ahead to kick ya out into the forest."

"Oh my! How could this have happened! Was it Markem, ya think?"

"Maybe, but I don't think so. I think it be some other ploy. Keep yer guard up, Gazla." Snackfur was spooked, he did not like how clean the ambush had been, and how sudden it was. To him it made no sense. He knew Jaker and his brothers despised that they were shafted when Markem's captains divided up the horde. The group had obvious spite for Luzgot, but were never bold enough to face him. It was odd something emboldened them to try to snipe at Luzgot, and even more suspicious that two weary hordebeasts conscripted by Markem's horde had saved Luzgot from further injury. Snackfur explained his reasoning with Gazla who looked wide eyed.

"We should probably tell Garzlo then, ya know where he be?"

"Here I be hoping! Ya know where he is?"

"No, I was hoping you would know." Snackfur cursed himself and led himself inside. Luzgot entered into his keep, his two new loyal hordebeasts keeping to his back. Snackfur stopped Gazla from entering and quickly pulled her aside. "Go find Garzlo an' keep an eye out for Scarl and his little pet spy. I want to know where everyone is. I don't like this one bit. Tell him my concerns an' to meet me in Luzgot's court." Gazla nodded and was already off, as Snackfur joined his lord in his court. He didn't need to find Scarl, for he was to the side of Luzgot's throne. Luzgot sat comfortably upon his throne and called out "Mole! Grab several pitchers of wine! Now!" He yelled out. Dannek appeared, and serviced the two new favorites of Luzgot. Luzgot showered the two with praise, happily goaded by the strangers as Scarl watched on with disinterest.

"Once again Karst, ya swear to me horde, an ya rescued me from assassins. Ya hear that Scarl? Me own try to kill me! Twas quite a pathetic show I tell ya. These two made quick work of them they did, eh? Tell me what ya two will have of ol' Luzgot an' Luzland."

Snackfur blurted out "Aye, if I may ask me lord, perhaps we should have this lot disarmed, an' sent back to their captains. These be not Luzland beasts but Markem's now. Karst here abandoned his post to help ya, an' likely this cretan as well."

The newcomer, drinking his wine shot back at Snackfur, snapping his paws "Hey! I be risken me life to join a horde under me own volition, not to be conscripted into some army of some dumb ol' Gholand rat!"

Scarl chimed in, which made Snackfur ever the more suspicious "Snackfur be right, but I see no reason to punish these two vermin for proactively guarding their own warlord. If ya wish them to be in yer horde, I'll speak to their previous captain to get two different vermin if ya so wish."

"I can agree to that." Luzgot said confidently "Now, kneel an' swears to me, an' I shall reward ya." The two vermin came close and bent their knees. However, both got suspiciously close, and before Luzgot could even utter a word, Karst drew his blade and rushed at Luzgot. Luzgot looked on wide eyed as the true assassin made his move. However, as the assassin neared his target, Karst felt a sudden jab in his chest and he was knocked to the ground. Life fluttered from him in a sudden betrayed breath as the newcomer shot up. Taking a javelin from the corpse. Luzgot looked on impressed as he defied death twice in a single day. The room was silent as the newcomer regained a formal composer and bowed lowly to him.

Luzgot arose and comfortably patted the newcomer's iron cap "You do me well, ya defy my death twice this day. I think ya will make a good bodyguard. Tell me yer name."

"Kudgel, chief." The weasel shot up, his grim smile wide and greedy.
_

Garzlo nearly slammed himself through the doors with Gazla shortly behind, with Snackfur looking down at the corpse of Karst. Snackfur was deep in thought as Garzlo quickly came over and looked around, not seeing Scarl, Skabit, nor Luzgot. Dannek was busily trying to mop up blood on the floor, but grew more and more frustrated as Snackfur stood over him, doing nothing. His eyes brought attention to his two fellow captains and snarled "Garzlo, tell me I ain't crazy! This stinks to high heaven!"

"Ya aren't, but keep yer voice down." Garzlo looked around, looking nervous "Where is the boss, he is safe right? The other one, a weasel I imagine, he be dead as well?"

"No actually, he shoved a javelin into this idiot." Snackfur kicked the corpse. Garzlo cringed hard, and looked fairly miserable. Snackfur could see he knew something, and grasped him firmly by the collar of his tunic "Ya know something? Spit it out, Garzlo! I need to know, is the boss in danger?"

"Not yet, but this creature be known to me. His name is Kudgel, a double agent in Scarl's employ. He is seen with many hordes, an is easy to miss if ya don't study that damn ferret's movements! We need to keep him away, far away from our plans, an' quickly!"

Gazla looked concerned "How can we help?"

Garzlo thought, the stress clearly getting to him as he grasped his head and began pulling out hairs "Snackfur, can ya pull him away from the boss before Luzgot spills his own beans on the plan?"

"It'll be hard mate, Luzgot is convinced he is with us after two nice shows."

"We cannot kill him openly, but we gotta get into Luzgot's ears somehow without any of them noticing! You keep an eye on em fer now, do only what is needed. I need to make sure out coin from Great Marsh is all snug. I will probably have to get it moved again if need be. I promise, I'll get us out of this."

"Ya best, or our heads will be on Gholand's pikes!" Snackfur took Gazla by the paw and pulled her along. Garzlo, in his stress and frustration angrily kicked the corpse, much to Dannek's dismay as some watery blood splashed on him. Garzlo fled out the doors, not noticing that behind him, a shadowy figure was closing in. Dannek did not notice, cleaning up the mess. All he could notice was a shadowy tail, a rat's tail, going out the front door and did not close itself behind. Dannek did not care much for such things, and closed the door after them.
_

Garzlo went through a small alley, fairly abandoned except for where a single sleeping vermin hordebeast drunkenly snored, the older beast not knowing that only a few feet in a small hidden hole not far was richest he could not even imagine. Garzlo was proud of his achievement of secretly bringing in Great Marsh's wealth into Luzland, using ropes and some rounded up hordebeasts to lift up several barrels of coin into the fortress. Garzlo paid his minions well to keep this secret, for the riches themselves were worth the prize. Hidden in a small and hidden dirt hole, Garzlo was shifting the barrels full of minted silver coins, regretting his decision to have it buried. He knew full well that if Luzgot did let something slip, Scarl was now there to catch it. Garzlo had to quickly move the barrels, have them stored likely beneath large crates of food. He struggled to bring up a single barrel, and gave up halfway through it after some hefty heaving. However, as Garzlo was wiping the sweat from his head, thinking of a way to command some dumb vermin to help him, a tap of a foot made the small ferret turn.

Skabit was looking down into a dirty pit with Garzlo, the rat smiling wide as he drew a knife and played with it in his paws. Garzlo was caught, red pawed and he looked up in silent terror at the rat. However, Garzlo soon made a simple observation; The rat had revealed himself, an oddity which wasn't common for a spy.

"So Garzlo, tell me, that thing down there be filled with ill gotten loot, eh? I sure do hope so, fer your sake."

Garzlo meekly replied, but with a more curious offer "Why don't ya come down, an' find out." Skabit jumped down and pushed the ferret aside and opened a lid. The glint of silver rushed over the greedy rat as Skabit moved his dirty paws over coin. Skabit quickly put two and two together and turned to Garzlo "Naughty, eh? I suppose Scarl's suspicions had been right, but Parb as well? I gotta say, ill tidings fer ya boss, an you."

Garzlo spoke up "Not necessarily, my good beast. Skabit is it? Me lord is rich ya know, an now ya see it. Maybe a little. . . .greased palms will make ya see something a bit more different."

"I don't know, how much we talken?"

Garzlo came over and got out a coin purse from his belt. He dropped his own coinage on the ground and began to over fill it for Skabit. It was full, a truly massive bag filled with coin. Had the vermin knew how to properly count, Skabit had earned a bounty so large, even he would consider it to be too much, yet the greed in his mind made him lick his lips, demanding more. Garzlo had more than enough coinage and gave it to Skabit.

"I think I be seeing things a bit differently, I do. Would be a shame if anyone were to notice, eh? Let me help ya with that."

Garzlo was relieved, more so then ever, as Skabit helped Garzlo with his task.
_

Scarl was back in his room, and was rather pleased with himself, and was even more pleased with Kudgel. The weasel had pulled off his amazing act without a hitch, and was again implanted deeply in a place he needed him in. Skabit re-entered the room, but not without his earlier payment, having hidden his new found wealth elsewhere. Scarl didn't turn to his chief spy "Tell me, what was Garzlo up to. Ya had him followed?"

"Aye chief, I did. He bounded for a barracks, I think he be on to us. He ducked into some barracks an' an alleyway, trying to lose me. He sat in some dirt by some drunken vermin, so I think he saw me sadly."

"Saw ya? Well, I suspected as much. You think he knows Kudgel?"

Skabit grunted "Nay, I don't think so, but I do think he suspects at least." Scarl accepted the answer and sat down on his bed and began playing the poison he had on him. Flipping it through his paws, Scarl turned to Skabit who seemed unhappy and tapped his paws. Scarl knew what it was about, angrily frowning "If you are about to ask about yer payment again, you can forget it."

"Scarl, ive been in yer service for a long time now, an I think I am deserving of some kind of reward. A house in Gholand maybe, a slave, somethin."

"Yer a spy, what ya need a house or a slave for anyway?"

"I don't know, maybe a reward at the end of the tunnel fer the likes of me, or maybe a little bit extra pay fer all I know an' more? Kudgel is payed handsomely fer his little shows, but why not me? Is it cause I am a rat?"

Scarl rolled his eyes and put the poison away into the safety of his luggage. He came up to Skabit and snarled at him "Ya are a spy, you daft idiot. Ya are here to collect information on me accord, like the rest of me spies an' such. Ya don't need a home, ya don't need a servant to tend to ya, ya are eyes an' ears for me to use. If ya continue, maybe I may suggest to Markem in our old age to give ya a hamlet an' a nice pension."

Skabit gritted his teeth beneath his lips and blurted out "Maybe?"

"Believe me, spies don't last long, an ya knew that getting into me business. Now, tell me more. I want to know everything."

Skabit spoke in length of an exorbitant and unfaithful tale, a boring series of events for which Scarl could believe. Skabit was sometimes distracted. Maybe? Ya pay me in 'maybe'? Well, at least Garzlo pays me well, then maybe we will see what comes of ya next, you wretch.
_

Luzgot was fast asleep, his dreams having become nightmares of late. This dream was no different than others. It was a vision of a strange rat, a ghostly figure chasing him with a spear through the woods of his home. Luzgot did not recognize him, but he recognized the armor. It was his father's armor, but the figure was old and skeletal, chasing him further and further until he slipped and fell. Luzgot fell into a deep hole, set for a grave, clawing desperately to escape. Surrounding the grave, several angry woodlanders in rags approached, all bearing Markem's rope collars. They all carried various weapons and shovels and began digging dirt into the grave. The ghostly figure looked on, taking up the spear in paw and slashing it down at Luzgot while he was being buried alive. When it struck, Luzgot shot up from his bed, his head pounding and his heart racing. Yet, as he was awake from his nightmare, the door opened and a light shone through.

Kudgel smiled and silently prodded his chief "Ya okay boss? I heard groaning."

"Yes, you dope! Get out an' keep an eye on me door! I don't want anymore assassins in me presence tonight at least." Kudgel swiftly closed the door without a second word. Kudgel kept his back to the door, half asleep himself from a night shift as a bodyguard. He knew Luzgot's life wasn't in danger, but he listened for anything out of the ordinary.

Luzgot was about to go back to sleep, until he heard a tap on the glass of his window. He lazily turned, expecting to see a stick or something else, but his eyes widened to see Garzlo staring back, shivering and silently begging to be let in. Luzgot angrily let up his sheets and opened the window, letting his bumbling minion fly onto the floor with a comedic thud. Rather loudly, Luzgot asked "The hells ya doin here, Garzlo."

"Sir! Shhhh!" Garzlo tried to silence his master. Garzlo turned his attention towards the door. Kudgel was on the other side, hearing the commotion but did not open the door, and instead pressed his ears against it. He now knew that Garzlo had snuck into the room. Garzlo whispered to his boss, trying to explain his intrusion.

"Boss, ya didn't tell him, yer new bodyguard anythin right?"

"I was planning on it, numb skull. I hope ya got a good reason for disturben me sleep."

"Boss, that Kudgel. Scarl's agent!"

Luzgot sniffed, not sure to believe Garzlo "How ya know? I hope this ain't jealousy, Garzlo."

"What? No!" Garzlo said with a shifting and sudden bout of bravery, although he swiftly returned to his cowardice. "My most gracious an' wise lord, ya must know this was all a ruse. I got proof."

"Proof, eh? I wanna see it."

Garzlo went over to the closet of the warlord and opened it, and stepping down from the shadows was Skabit. The rat silently bowed much to Luzgot's horror and surprise. His frown of disbelief turned into a smile, quickly claiming the act of shifting one of Markem's spies to his own cause. Skabit did not speak, looking at the door himself, unsure how much Kudgel could even hear.

Luzgot asked a rather loud question "So, Garzlo? Of our good captain Gazla? You think she be up for me task? Can she be trusted, eh?"

The question was directed at Skabit, who took the meaning as whether or not Kudgel could be trusted. He shook his head slowly.

Garzlo responded with a louder whisper "No, she cannot. I think only Snackfur is capable of leading the front. I think we can only trust Snackfur with this important task. So, are you in our out, chief?"

The last meaning was directed at Skabit who nodded, but then lifted a large coin purse and dangled it over the floor. Skabit pretended to slip it, much to Luzgot's dismay as he quickly took the meaning. Luzgot angrily snarled "How expensive will be this trip, Garzlo? Supply wise?"

Garzlo quickly spoke up "A cart the size of a home I thinks, and a nice and large gaggle of treasures no doubt from our armory, but nothing too bad. Of course, we do suspect to lose some prisoners in the raid."

Kudgel wasn't fully satisfied, believing he was hearing a secret attack on some tributary village which he didn't care for, and likely Scarl didn't care for. Yet, Luzgot only gave a nod to Skabit inside who opened the door and shoved Garzlo out. He winked at Luzgot who closed the window behind him, cursing the need to pay some corrupt spy to continue his plans. Luzgot slept more soundly that night, but still remains horrified by his dreams.
_

Kudgel was explaining to Scarl what he had heard the night before in the kitchens of Luzland, the ferret disheartened to hear it. Scarl had hoped for some grander scheme, or something, but instead it was just Luzgot preparing for another one of his raids. It did not make much sense to him, since Luzgot would leave this morning along with him back to Gholand with Luzland's horde. Luzgot was making some generic speech to his vermin, something which they would forget the moment they started marching. Garzlo was out and about, preparing to hunker down Luzland while his chief was away, a choice which made Scarl happy since Luzgot would be far off from his spymaster and the true brains of his operations.

"You sure that is all ya heard. Odd for Luzgot to be planning another raid on one our tributaries, but not deeply important I suppose."

"He did lose a lot of his slaves, so no doubt he is pissed. You saw that pathetic host of coastal vermin he called? Ya sure it was worth it?"

"It was, that was 500 vermin he called from the east coast, pikebeasts an' archers. Eastern coast pirates too, but i am still concerned about this. I still have no clue who sent that message." The two were interrupted as Dannek came into the kitchen, soullessly climbing a stool and began to wash his boss's dishes of his morning meal. Dannek looked down at his job, puffing out as Scarl looked him over. "Muse." Scarl said to himself, and began to realize something almost straight away.

Why am I blind to the most basic things. Of course, how did I not see it. Scarl coughed, trying to get the mole's attention. Dannek continued to work, until Scarl perked up a conversation in his direction "What does a Mouse, a piece of armor, and a sword got in common, mole?"

The Mole jolted, tipping over his stool and fell onto the ground, still holding the plate. Dannek looked up as Scarl came over and looked him over. Scarl felt a bit betrayed, he should have guessed it was a slave who sent him the message, a slave who was asking for help. Yet his mind filled with questions. How did this miserable servant know my name? Muse, of course it was mole speak for Mice, but what does it gotta do with me? Luzgot's meeting, what did he know? Scarl dragged the mole up and brought him over. He looked to Kudgel next "Make sure we aren't being watched, this will take but a moment."

Kudgel smiled and went about his task as Scarl pulled the frightened slave closer. Dannek may have had small eyes, but they were wide in fear. He had no idea the creature he was contacting was a vermin, all he knew was that it was a creature in Gholand. Scarl snarled "I felt like I wasted a lot of time here, mole, so ya better give me information, or you will be missing fingers."

The mole was ready to cry and began blurting out "Pleause, sir, Dannuk didun't do wrung! I sweur I tell you der truth! Pleause dun't hurt me!"

"Okay, tell me about this meeting then, what was it about? When? Who was involved?"

"I dun knuw! Luzgut disappured a bit ago, I dun' knuw whun. I dun' count der days. He coume buck talkun about it, sayun somethun about pluns an' all uthor things I dun' understund. He be up to no guud, ya caun say dat much!"

"How is he up to no good?" Scarl grew impatient, drawing his dagger on him. The mole panicked more and blurted out what was nonsense at first. A swift slap across his face drew his attention "He saud all munner of bad things, he mentiuned a fox? A fox, dat is right I thunks! Some fox! Please do not hurt me!"

"What about this mouse. Or muse. Or whatever warrior creature, eh? Dream or whatever, is that code for something, mole?"

"I sauw him in a dreum! I saw a great mouse in a dreum! He teulls me to send wurd to you! I said you could hulp me!"

Scarl didn't need to understand the mole to know help. Scarl was angry, at first he was furious, but his anger subsided as the crying mole began to weep. Scarl let go of him lightly and bend a knee to the mole's level. "Tell me, whats yer name?"

"Dunnuk, sir." the mole sniffed, tears forming in his eyes. He did not wish to be hurt, and Scarl could see the mole was desperate. It wasn't like him to pity slaves, but to imagine a creature to bend knees and live under the mercy of Luzgot made Scarl shiver. "'Dunnuk', eh? Tell me, Dannek, ya were right to send a letter to me."

"It dun feel like it."

"You don't want to be hurt no more, aye? To be free of this place, I bets."

The mole nodded "They tuuk me whun I was a yung'un, I miss me parents, I want to go home. . .an' I dun't know where it be no more. I just want to not be hurtun when I got to bed at night." The mole was getting emotional as Scarl took an apple from his pouch, passing it to Dannek. "I can arrange that, ya know. I can get ya out of here, but not today. Tell me everything ya know, every detail counts, Dannek. If ya do good by me, I'll do good by you. Ya keep yer ears open, eh? I know yer master will want to have ya tend to him on campaign, but why don't ya do me a solid, an keep yer eye on him fer me sake." Scarl comforted the mole who ate of the apple hungrily. Scarl patted his head and stood, telling his new spy his new duties as Dannek stood and listened intently.


Far off in a northern village called Dusksand, a odd and ruinous figure waltzed in the night. Dusksand was a dormouse village which primarily traded in lumber, although the brown flag of Markem's horde stood over the village's center. The vermin garrison wasn't on high alert, although the figure did keep their presence as far from the soldiers as possible. The figure was headed towards a small hut, and swiftly moved inside, closing the door behind it. It peered outside the wooden windows, making sure it wasn't seen or followed. In a dimly lit room, where the crickets sang their loud song, a single figure sadly drank, having suspected the figure. It was the hare who had failed to killed Markem, missing an ear and an eye, bearing the shameful rope collar of Markem's servitude on his neck. The hare looked grimly up at the figure who tore off his disguise, revealing a large and imperial looking hare in a bright red jacket, and a monocle hanging from a silver chain. He sat opposite of the failed Long Patrol.

The hare in rags politely poured a cup of grog for the formal hare. "Tis a bad batch, sir, but its all I could get my poor paws on." The hare was shaking a bit as he sipped his own cup. "Commander Busk Rattlebush, always good to see you in decent spirits. I knew you would come, but you are a bit late."

Busk nodded and took a sip of the drink which his former scout was drinking quite readily. He sipped it gagged on it a bit, putting down the drink. "I apologize, I was hoping to get here sooner, but the vermin guard you well. It is good you collaborate with them enough for them to think you tame, Ruthbert."

"Perhaps I am." Ruthbert said with a cheerful sarcasm. The two drank, as the former scout twitched his one remaining ear. Busk knew what happened, he kept Ruthbert's fate as secret as he could, but he looked with a deep sadness at him. Despite all his jovial zealotry towards his station, it didn't last long to matter, his own Long Patrol had fallen to vermin torture.

"You know why I am here."

Ruthbert nodded "Yes, my good chap. Before you do what needs to be done, I have information for you."

"Oh?"

"I imagine you already know about the bloomin 'Great Vermin Band', yes?"

"I do."

"Good. I have numbers for you." Ruthbert passed to him a small scribble, the best he could do with some missing fingers and an eye. "Quite a bad spot of luck. Lefen escaped, but an otter named Streamwaddle got captured. Not sure how long before Scarl break him or gets his dirty paws on him, but Lefen does assure me his group moves often to not get caught by Markem or his patrols."

"I see." Busk looked over the numbers. It wasn't enough information to forgive Ruthbert for his scout's recklessness, but it did forgive him of giving up under pressure. Busk knew full well what kind of information he had, and when he learned he was sent away to some farmstead under Markem's control as a laborer, Busk knew what had happened before he even arrived. Busk nodded and looked at him "You were a good scout, Ruthbert."

Busk put a small vial infront of him, which Ruthbert took in his paw and smiled with what strength he had left "Oh, you shouldn't have, sir. Freeing me from another lousy day of farming for some crooked rat and his gaggle of misfits, wot."

"I will be here till you pass." Busk looked cold as his scout poured the contents into his drink and gulped it down. In his last moments, the hare looked up at his commander and saluted. Busk saluted back "I will tell your family you died bravely. Stupidly, but bravely, good sir."

The hare did not respond and his body crashed down on the edge of his bed and passed. Busk put out the light in the room and put on his disguise, leaving in the twilight to a song of grasshoppers and distant frogs.