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Mossyra of the Irresistible Imps
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Date Posted: 01:30:16 06/20/07 Wed
Swiftstream stumbled, almost fell, then recovered. He continued on wearily, searching for a place to hide from his pursuers. If they caught him, he was worse than dead. Coarse shouts reached his ears, causing him to go even faster. Laughter came from close behind and his exhaustion tried to pull him down. An arrow whizzed close by, but he was too tired to try to duck and dodge; even running in a straight line was an effort. The patter of running feet reached his ears and he knew they had him. Unable to force his limbs forward any more, he turned to face his tormentors. They burst through the trees and slowly began to circle him, leaving no escape. A few moved to attack.
They never got a chance. Another group of vermin that were obviously thieves broke cover at just that moment. A fox advanced a few paces and said, "What have we here? A gathering is it?" The rest laughed. The soldiers had turned to face the new threat, leaving two to watch their captive. Swiftstream eyed the newcomers warily. Most were grinning cruelly, ready to enjoy the sport their comrades would make. Others drew their weapons, mentally choosing who to kill. "Drop your weapons," the fox demanded harshly, all pretext of being merciful gone. The vermin soldiers leveled what spears they had in reply. "Very well then," the fox said coldly. Two simple words made his final order. "Kill them."
The battle was brief and bloody. Archers from the robber band poured arrows into the opposing force quickly, leaving only three creatures alive. The two soldiers still alive tried backing up, but more enemies appeared behind them. They were swiftly slaughtered: One fell to a spear thrust and the other died beneath the slashes of a sword.
Swiftstream tensed, his eyes never leaving the fox. He didn't have long to wait. The emotionless eyes swung toward him and a careless voice said, "If you resist you will be killed." Two vermin, a rat and a stoat, approached him as the rest left the spot, taking whatever they wanted from the dead. They tied his wrists behind his back and slipped a noose over his head before pulling him after the others.
Swiftstream was pushed into the vermin camp roughly by his guard. Eyes swung toward him and he tried not to cry out in pain as a sword prodded him sharply to make him go faster. He was led to a tent by the fox while the rat followed behind to discourage escape; the stoat had disappeared into the forest awhile back. The sentries ushered them in and the rat forced him to his knees before quickly departing and Swifstream took advantage of the moment to study the room. A heavily armored ferret sat on a wooden chair that was covered in strange symbols. Two weasels stood on either side and a stoat watched from the shadows. The ferret was obviously the leader of the vermin and Swiftstream knew better than to speak out. He waited silently, eyes downcast.
Minutes ticked by slowly without anything in the tent stirring. The ferret read a paper slowly, ignoring the intruders. After a long while he sighed and dropped the sheet, finally acknowledging the presence of the otter and the fox. "What did you find that you thought was important enough to bring into my sight," the ferret demanded. "A common slave is insignificant to me. If he fought you, then kill him. I am not needed to carry out such punishments." The fox bowed his head before replying, "Mighty Kilgon, this otter is special. We found him surrounded by nearly a score of vermin from Jarnak's horde, more than what was needed to track down a mere slave."
Kilgon's eyes swung to Swiftstream. "Is this true?" Swiftstream nodded silently without raising his eyes. For a moment no sound was audible. Then Kilgon said, "Leave us." The guards, fox, and stoat left without a word. Silence prevailed once more. Then, "You have a secret." Kilgon's voice was deadly quiet, like steel being drawn. "Something important, no doubt, for it has attracted the notice of my long-time foe, Jarnak. I must know, what has caught his notice so strongly as to track down one puny slave, a young otter with no friends or family." Swiftstream flinched. "Well?" He had no choice but to respond. His secret wasn't worth dying for, even if it did threaten another creature. Swiftstream took a deep breath, then whispered, "I know where somebeast is, a beast Jarnak wants dearly." The next question cut through his soul. "Who?" A pang of regret could not stop him from saying, "Just a squirrelmaid. I don't know why he wants her." Kilgon's sharp intake of breath made him wince inwardly. "Mossyra," Kilgon hissed. It appeared that the squirrelmaid's fame had exceded her.
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