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Gren the squirrel watched from a hillside as a battalion of troops approached a village. A group detached itself from the battalion, and begun shooting fire arrows at the wooden walls of the village. The rest of the battalion continued, throwing grappling hooks at the walls and starting to climb up. A small force of mice came out of the village, going for the archers. But they were shot down ruthlessly, dying while screaming and on fire. Gren sighed as the village burned. Would anyone ever escape the Black Hordes?!
Today, there was a competion in the Longfield Barracks. It would be a tournament, to see who could fight the best. There were different categories, like swordfighting, or archery, or staff-fighting. Most lined up for swordfighting, for that was the most popular fight. The first up were Sabertrander and Sergeant Cumberlog. Sabertrander was an elegant, young, handsome hare. He fought with a saber, as his name suggested. The hare knew tons of little tricks in swordfighting, and was very admired, especially by the girls. Cumberlog, on the other hand, was a rough, ill-mannered, and bad-tempered shrew. His choice weapon was a cutlass. Naturally, people hoped Sabertrander would win. The horn blew for the match to begin. The shrew lunged for Sabertrander, who neatly sidestepped and kicked Cumberlog in the rear end. As the croud roared with laughter the shrew yelled in rage and lunged for the hare. He blocked with his saber, and then spun it, disarming Cumberlog. "Surrender sah, or else I'll run you through!" The shrew put his hands up in submission, then left the arena. The next contestant was Ironshoulders, a big, male hedgehog. He was soon defeated by Sabertrander, as were the next few contestants. Then came Sefera. Sefera was a beatiful squirrelmaiden, armed with a rapier. There was many who loved her, and they didn't want to see her humiliated. Among these was Sabertrander. The hare smiled nervously and said, "I'll go easy on you,'kay miss?" She smiled sweetly. "Of course." The match had begun. Sabertrander approached her, lowering his sabre. Suddenly, Sefera unleashed a stunning series of blows, driving the hare backward. Then, the crowd gasped. Sabertrander was on the ground, panting, and Sefera stood over him, smiling. "That was rather simple. Whose next?" The next contestant came forward, nervously toying with thier sword. She aproached him, twirling her own blade. In a few seconds her opponent ran out of the arena, panting.
Deep in the mountains, they're was a large, stone fortress. The inside was dark, and silent. Then the silence was broken as a fox, accompanied by a score of rats, ran across a hall. They tumbled into one big room, panting. "Lord, the Black Hordes are coming!" An old fox came out of the gloom, leaning on a stick. "So it was bound to be. Get the jewels, son!" Then a smooth voice spoke out of the gloom. "Too late, fool." They turned, and saw a female wildcat smiling at them. Her fur a yellow with black stripes. She had battle armor on her chest, and her legs were shortly covered by leather, with a cape on her back. She had a sword in her paw, and mutiple daggers in her belt. Even though she was armored, you could tell that she had a sinewy, lithe body. Her legs and arms were extremly muslced, and her claws were long. The rats snarled and charged her. She killed them all, not even trying. Then she jumped on the foxes, slaying them instantly. A black rat ran onto the room, followed by a small squadron. The wildcat turned to him, and said, "Late again, Captain." The rat gulped, and bowed. "Sorry My Lady, we ran into a bit of trouble ramming through the gates." She sneered. "Fool. Repair the gates. I don't want that wolverine catching up with me." The rat shuddered as he imagined going against the wolverine with only his small squadron.
A tall, muscled wolverine stood, facing the sun. In his hand was a schythe, and he had a belt which went around his chest and back. Strapped to that belt were tons of sickles. On his back was a mark that looked like red lightning. It ran down his back, like some kind of scar. Then, a fox approached him. The fox had a cutlass strapped to his belt, and had an eyepatch on his left eye. His sinewy body was crisscrossed in scars, even his face. The wolverine was known as Razor, and the fox as Scarface. Razor had a chainmail mask covering his face, and Scarface could hypnotize creatures. They commanded a horde of twelve score stoats and rats, and they had another twelve score monitor lizards serving them. "So Razor, think we'll catch up with that wildcat?" The wolverine growled, and said, "Not likely. She can move awful fast." Scarface sighed, and went to his tent. The wolverine stared at the setting sun, sighing. Would he ever catch up with that scum?!
A squirrel walked north, trying to battle against the blizzard and the powerful wind. He was wrapped up in a cloak, but you could see his eyes. They were red. Blood red. He would find them, no matter how long it took. The wind blew him to the ground, but he stood up again. He would find them!