Confrontation (FREE FOR ALL!!!)

[redclaw]

(Sorry sir I'll try not to do it again)

[Abbot Vivian]

Sweetfang jumped back once, ducked, swerved to one side, bent down, and darted to the right. He moved swiftly and agilely, avoiding each of his otter foe’s sweeps of her blade as best he could. The vermin surrounding them composed a horde that remained ever-thick despite the lot he had slain or brutally and permanently crippled. The crowd around them made dodging the warrior’s flamberge especially difficult, but Sweetfang managed to avoid serious injury. He lost only hairs off his coat and felt his clothing slashed in ce3rtain areas as a result of narrowly escaping the sword’s deadly and constantly shifting path.

When the marten managed to distance himself from the otter, he regrettably sheathed his bloodied blade; he made a mental note to thoroughly clean both his scabbard and his kilij later on in the day. He did so because he noticed that vermin soldiers under the command of the opposing marten restored their numbers. Sweetfang knew himself to be a talented swords-beast and one of the fastest creatures alive, but even he could not hope to oppose such tremendous odds and hope to come out of it alive. Even if he could manage to defeat the female marten and her horde, he most certainly could not do it with an otter out for his blood.

He kept his anger in check and swallowed his pride as he made a decision to retreat. His weasel ally seemed determined enough to stop at nothing to slay the horde leader. Meanwhile, the otter gave the impression that she was absolutely determined to slay every last vermin in sight. He figured he’d let them battle it out and return to finish off whoever remained alive afterward if he felt the odds swayed in his favor at such a time.

He dashed to the nearest tree on all fours in the opposite direction from which the reinforcements had arrived. He leaped over some of the vermin who impeded him and swerved to avoid others. When he reached the trunk of the oak, he skillfully climbed up to the safety of its branches. From a thick branch, he observed the continuing conflict below and prepared to move onto another tree in case the beasts below decided to use arrows or any other sort of projectile weapon against him.

[greenfang]

(I would post now, but I think its Glavon's turn. I skipped enough people. I don't want to make that mistake again. Also, this is Merce/Redclaw. I have a third acount. :

[Glavon]

Arawolf laughed slightly insanely as the marten enemy retreated from her bladestrokes. Fur fell to the ground, along with scraps of fabric. The otter warrior grinned viciously, and the first light of battlelust glinted red in her eyes as the marten finished its retreat and sheathed its blade. With a crazed roar, she charged back into the mass of vermin, having defeated her enemy, at least for now.

"Haha!" was the demented laugh that echoed from her mouth, and it was the last thing many of the vermin heard as she cut them down with her blade. Coated with blood and fur, dripping crimson red liquid, it cut the foxes, weasels, ferrets, stoats, and rats like a scythe, sending hordes of newcomers to Hellgates. When a sizeable circle of dead vermin and bloodied grass surrounded her, she laughed again and headed towards Lysistra, her blade ready.

"Go to Hellgates!" she screamed and charged forward. Every vermin in her way was killed, and blood stained her pelt. Her pawsteps were red, even though most of the vermin had backed away from her path.

She finally approached the female marten, and hacked at her like a beast gone mad, which she was in a way.

(Meh, crappy post. I feel like violence. XD)

[Vikenti Whitedeath]

The vermin in the clearing cheered as Sweetfang retreated. Some of them were occupied with Alastor, but the others were glad to see him go. "Are you scared?" they jeered at him from the ground, "How about we nail you to a tree!" Some of them prepared to fire at Sweetfang, however, they were halted by Lysistra.

"Don't kill him," she said, "he is not the real enemy!" She did not see other pine martens very often in Mossflower. She didn't want to see Sweetfang killed. "Come on," she called up to Sweetfang, "why side with a lesser beast, a stoat! I am a marten like you! I apologize for the rat who shot at you, he is long dead."

Lysistra didn't get any further because Arawolf charged her suddenly from behind. Lysistra turned around, pushing a weasel in-front of her. He was dead before he knew what hit him. Lysistra threw his limp body towards Arawolf, trying to make her lose her balance. Then Lysistra lunged at Rainclaw with her blade.

Alastor fought bravely against the vermin. Still, he was being forced back. The vermin outnumbered him 30 to 1. They also had spears. It looked like he would be forced to retreat. But he would bring down as many as he could before that.

[Abbot Vivian]

Sweetfang observed the continuation of battle with just enough interest to keep him from moving onto to other things such as hunting for his next meal. Some of the comrades, assuming vermin had comrades, of the soldiers Sweetfang had slain only moments earlier began taunting him and prepared to launch arrows at him. He nearly decided to retreat farther away while still keeping the action within viewing range when the leader of the vermin horde suddenly addressed him.

Sweetfang felt mildly impressed by her words, she sounded as though she considered him equal if only for the fact that they were of the same species. Additionally, she apologized for the brash actions of the rat Sweetfang had cut down in a retaliatory act. She struck him as an intelligent leader similar to the pirate captain he had served under many seasons ago. His anger dissipated rapidly, but he managed to keep a clear head and also prevented his pride from goading him into a foolish action.

He was currently an ally of none of the creatures below him. He had attacked the horde creatures simply because one of them had tried to kill him. He used the stoat as a means of enacting his revenge upon his attackers, siding with him only temporarily as a means to an end. Further involvement on his part was neither necessary nor profitable according to Sweetfang’s present opinion.

“Apology accepted.” Sweetfang spoke calmly.

Whether his forgiving words reached the ears of the female marten over the clamor of battle or not was of little importance to him. Instead, he removed his blade from its scabbard and began swinging it around in an attempt to flick as much blood off it as possible. He was also practicing using his blade from a great height, not that he had trouble doing so.

((Sorry, had no idea it was my turn.))

[Vikenti Whitedeath]

((Thats ok mate! No harm done! Now its Glavon's turn.)

[Glavon]

(I DON'T WANT TO POST.)

Arawolf snarled as Lysistra pushed a weasel in front of her and she killed the creature instead. The pine marten lunged at Arawolf with her blade. The warrior otter ducked, baring her teeth, and attempted to punch the marten in the jaw, a special tactic of her's, before kicking at the marten's stomach and slashing at her head with a quick stroke.

She looked up at Sweetfang and snarled at him. "Hey, Sweetface or whatever your name is! Get down here so I can finish you off. Or are you too scared?" she chuckled insanely before the chuckle turned into a full laugh.

[Vikenti Whitedeath]

Lysistra barely heard Sweetfang forgiving her above the noise of the fight. She fell forward slightly when her attack missed Arawolf and she met the punch full on with her jaw. Lysistra was knocked over backwards by the blows strength. Though it was painful, this did help her avoid being hit by the attacks that followed. Lysistra sprang up and backed away from Arawolf.

Alastor slashed down a ferret he had been fighting and charged at Lysistra. "Make your beasts leave the fight," he said to her, "this is between us. Haven't innocents died to are quarrel already?" Lysistra looked at him nervously, then Arawolf, then Sweetfang. None of them seemed to care in the slightest way how she was feeling right now. This just isn't my day, she thought. "All right," she said, "none of my beast will try to stop you." She looked over them just to make sure they got the point. All the vermin turned to Arawolf then, encase she attacked.

Alastor charged Lysistra and their swords met in a shower of sparks. Alastor was the stronger of the two combatants but Lysistra was the faster. Neither of them could make any head-way against the other, they were to evenly matched.