Post by Abbot Vivian on Oct 30, 2009 21:20:41 GMT -5
Name: Sweetfang
Gender: Male
Age: He is an adult. (Since Brian Jacques never specified an age for his characters, I won't either regardless of the board's aging rate standard for characters. It isn't something I would feel comfortable doing.)
Species: Pine Marten
Occupation: Hunter
Physical Appearance:
Almost sparkling golden-brown fur thickly covers much of his body. It grows thickest along his large tail; a considerable asset toward his balance and coordination. As if in contrast, bright yellow-orange fur seems to explode underneath his chin. The bold and shorter hairs spread downward along his throat, chest, belly, inner thighs, and the undersides of his upper arms.
His fur is thinnest around his face, especially around his nose and near his extended mouth where whiskers reside aplenty. His orange eyes seem to conclude the autumnal color scheme of his body. His ears are considerably large and somewhat angular. Short claws adorn his hands and feet, but they are not nearly long enough to cause a creature any real harm.
He is indeed a typical marten with a long neck and a slightly arching back. Both make him considerably tall or long depending on his position. Muscled thighs and long legs also contribute toward his height, but not as much. Instead, his proportionately round lower half is responsible for much of his body weight.
For clothing, he wears only a red tunic almost as darkly shaded as a forest night. Where the blood stains of past victims end and the original fabric color begins on his attire is anyone’s guess.
Possessions
A short curved scabbard hangs from his sash; contained within resides a terrible weapon that has caused many innocent creatures their deaths in the left hand of its owner, a kilij (literally translates to sword in Turkish). It is a light weapon easily wielded with a single hand. Its blade gently curves upward and maintains a narrow width until the final third of its length. At that point, the blade suddenly widens only to taper slowly into a deadly point. It is the wide portion of the blade that gives the weapon its devastating cutting power.
Its brass-colored hilt curves in the opposite direction of the blade and fattens at the end into a pommel-like section. It has a cross-shaped guard that sharply curves into a diamond shape toward the center. The hilt is considerably wider than the blade and its guard has a small hollow opening surrounding the blade’s base.
Personality:
The pine marten is a notorious glutton and, as such, one constant thought in his head predominates all others, FOOD! Spare the nuts, the seeds, the roots, the fruits, the vegetables, and cheeses! Toss the pies, the cakes, the breads, the pasties, and soups and stews away!
What he desires is the tender and succulent flesh of woodlanders. They’re always keeping the meat on their bones mouthwateringly tender through work and play. They even do the marten a tremendous favor by staying clean and healthy, assuring him that his vittles aren’t tainted.
Like many predators before and after him, he carefully selects easy prey. However, seasoned woodlanders have such an awful taste that he generally hunts prey of a far younger age. Young ones are vulnerable both physically and mentally, making them his prime choice of meats.
Yes, Sweetfang is such a sinister creature or, more accurately, a sadistic monster caged inside the body of a pine marten. He is no mindless beast, however, and to mistake him for one can prove fatal. No, he is all the more dangerous because of his sharp intellect, cold-heartedness, and wisdom garnered from time itself.
There is an odd quirk about him that only helps denote his complete insanity. He enjoys coming up with new songs in his head and singing them aloud. He can never quite remember the exact lyrics of each of them and never sings the same tune twice because of it. The fact that this deadly character has a beautiful singing voice makes him seem all the more twisted.
Strengths:
Sweetfang is a dexterous creature and is tremendously skilled in climbing trees and scaling walls with his short claws, sidestepping obstacles, and navigating narrow ledges, bridges, and other passageways. That’s just to name some of his best applications for his agility. Not only is he nimble, but he is also fleet of foot. He can keep pace with some of the fastest creatures alive including the finest members of the hare-exclusive long patrol.
Apart from his physical advantages, Sweetfang is both wise and cunning as aforementioned. He is talented at detecting lies. He knows when a promise is empty. He can sense malicious intent beneath flattering words and shallow hospitality. Now comes a good question. Since he does not hesitate to kill young woodlanders who have hardly tasted life, why would he hesitate to kill someone who would try to deceive him?
For combat and self defense, the pine marten knew long ago that he needed a weapon and learn how to use it. He required one that wouldn’t hinder his movement with its size or slow him with its weight. It is for those reasons that he obtained and became highly skilled with his kilij.
Weaknesses:
For all of his wisdom and intelligence, this pine marten doesn’t know the first thing about identifying plants. He knows not what vegetation is edible, poisonous, or even medicinal. As carnivorous as he is, he never felt the need to learn about such things. It is all too apparent that he is woefully useless as a forager.
His brightly colored fur and considerable size makes him highly noticeable. It is difficult for him to hide; stealth is nigh impossible for him. He cannot blend in with his surroundings unless in the company of fellow vermin. Even then he stands out because pine martens aren’t exactly common among vermin hordes.
Another downside he possesses is his inability to read and write. Having been brought up by an equally illiterate mother and never receiving the education that abbey dwellers take for granted, it should come as no surprise. For a vermin, learning how to fight and remaining vigilant even against his own supposed allies is the only education considered essential.
History:
Sweetfang was born in a distant land across the sea. His father had been press-ganged into a pirate crew just after he had grown out of his infancy. The devastating loss left him only with his mother, Sunfur and his older brother, Oakheart. Sunfur loved and cared for him tremendously as all mothers do regardless of their species and equal share of stereotypes. However, he required much more care and attention at such a young age than his brother, who was nearing maturity, did. This caused jealousy to swell inside the older sibling’s mind until he drove himself mad with envy.
Oakheart became delusional and actually believed that his mother hated him and that she had Sweetfang just to replace him. Angry and feeling unwanted, Oakheart suffocated her one night with a pillow while she slept. He intended to do away with his brother using the same method. However, Sweetfang awoke from a terrible dream that night and went to his mother’s bed for comfort.
He reached the open doorway in time for the traumatic image of his older brother pressing a pillow against their dead mother’s face to forever burn itself into his mind. Sweetfang remained still, frozen with horror and confusion at the scene before him; hot tears formed and blurred his vision for a moment. When a sob escaped his mouth, Oakheart quickly turned around and found himself facing his little brother.
Sweetfang wanted to ask why he had hurt their mother, but the older marten, with his crazed expression, was in no state to talk. Instead, Oakheart ran after the young marten with murderous intent flashing in his eyes. Sweetfang turned and ran for his life, but he was not as swift as his nearly fully grown brother. By the time he took one step outside the house, Oakheart had already grabbed hold of him.
He screamed and squirmed frantically, but he was not the only one to have screamed in that moment. A weasel with a raised spear in his clutches had approached the modest marten home. He had been about to have a look inside for food to steal when the two brothers ran outside, terrifying the thief.
Since he was still a child, Sweetfang had been short enough to run beneath the point of the spear without receiving injury. His brother was not as fortunate who had run through the weapon by accident. His death was instant; the spear had impaled his heart.
Sweetfang was far from relieved, he wasn’t sure if he was happy to be alive considering the only family he knew was dead. When Oakheart’s lifeless body was removed from the spear by the weasel, the young marten simply fell onto his hands and knees and cried. The weasel acted sympathetically in response and offered the boy food, water, and protection if he went with him. It took some time to console the boy before Sweetfang accepted his promise of charity.
They arrived at a broad river where a crew of sea pirates temporarily camped. Sweetfang immediately realized his mistake in following the weasel; his mother often told stories about pirates and how dangerous they were. She told him never to approach the malicious lot and to run if one ever saw him and to keep running until he dropped from exhaustion. He wanted to escape, but the weasel, who had acted as a friendly guide until then, prevented him from leaving.
The captain, a black-furred rat, addressed the weasel and asked why he brought them a young pine marten instead of food. The weasel subordinate, in turn, explained that he thought the pine marten could serve as the ship’s new cabin boy. Their last one had been killed for sneaking into the ship's kitchen to steal food.
The weasel said nothing ever again; the pirate captain had driven a dagger into his throat. After killing his own crewmember for incompetence, the captain turned to Sweetfang. The marten had forgotten about his misery and felt only tremendous fear as he trembled in the ferocious captain’s presence.
The pirate captain smiled, which only unnerved the boy further when he recalled one of his mother’s quotes. “A pirate’s grin is more dangerous than his grimace.” The captain then unexpectedly and joyously welcomed Sweetfang to the crew. He could not suppress his natural curiosity despite his fear and asked the rat why. The captain answered him, saying, “I’m one crew-beast short, I need a replacement!” Of course, it was an offer Sweetfang could refuse only if he had tired of living.
Sweetfang spent the remainder of his childhood as the cabin boy aboard the pirate ship appropriately named, The Bone Skimmer. He was treated hardly any better than the slaves below decks chained day and night to the oars. He ate only scraps, slept little, worked his paws raw, and had to sneak water at night because greedy crew-beasts stronger than him always stole from him his rations.
Whatever innocence and purity he gained from his time spent with his mother was washed away as cleanly as the decks he scrubbed multiple times daily. He became a loathsome beast and directed hatred at any creature aboard the vessel whether they were a pirate or slave.
He discovered that the only possible way he could loosen his anger was by inflicting further pain upon the slaves. None of the crew-beasts objected as long as the pine marten refrained from directing his anger at the pirates themselves and only harassed the slaves during his sparse breaks. Tormenting those less fortunate than him quickly became a habit for him and then progressed into an obsession until he found he no longer cared if others lived or died. He even found himself fantasizing about personally killing creatures and joining the pirates in their bloody raids. After awhile, abusing slaves was no longer enough for the depraved beast.
If there was one thing Sweetfang learned during his time aboard The Bone Skimmer, it was how to tell when others were lying, joking, or intended to do another harm. Crew-beasts died more often by their own hands than they did during their raids against defenseless towns and villages and were replaced just as quickly and easily. Detecting deceit and other signs of danger were necessary for surviving aboard a pirate ship.
Whenever one pirate was slain by a supposed comrade, the captain would encourage Sweetfang to pick up the dead pirate’s weapon and claim it for himself. The rat assured him that he needed a weapon and that without one, he could not hope to live much longer.
The pirate captain was an enigma to Sweetfang, he could never read him as he could with others. He always wondered if the pirate sincerely wished to train him and saw potential in him or if it was all merely a game the rat played in his spare time for personal amusement.
In either case, the pine marten eventually found his weapon of choice when he had grown enough to lift and wield one, a kilij. It was a curved sword that had ended the lives of innocents many times prior to coming into Sweetfang’s obsession. Even after he had done as the rat suggested, Sweetfang was kept behind during many of the raids that followed. Was it the pirate captain’s genuine desire to keep him safe despite how cruelly the crew treated him?
He spent more than four seasons training himself with his blade. He also tested it and himself in many spars against crew-beasts who started showing him some respect. He had grown taller than many of them in his mature seasons and he readily used his size to intimidate past tormentors and fresh faces.
After feeling he had mastered his own weapon, he killed the ship’s first mate. He then issued a challenge to the entire crew of one on one mortal combat to fill in as the new second in command. The smiling captain only observed without interfering and chuckled to himself when none of his cowardly underlings accepted the challenge.
The final attempted raid of The Bone Skimmer and its crew was also Sweetfang’s first because he had finally earned the admiration of his captain. The rat unwisely decided to invade Mossflower country. There, what seemed like an armada of Guosim log boats greeted the ship and the innumerous shrew sailors overwhelmed the pirates, killing most of them.
The rat captain knew all was lost and revealed to Sweetfang a tremendous secret. The pirate had been a good friend to Sweetfang's father. Together, they arranged a successful mutiny against their old captain; the pirate who had forcefully recruited the marten’s father, breaking his family in one heartless act. Unfortunately, Sweetfang’s father lost his life to one of the original captain’s few supporters. Had he survived, Sweerfang’s father would have assumed command of the ship only long enough to return home to his family.
The pirate captain then entered the fray and slew dozens of shrews in his final act alive; it was an act of self sacrifice. Sweetfang's father had done the same for him and he figured it was time to return the favor since he had lost everything anyway. He occupied the defending forces of Mossflower well enough on his own to provide Sweetfang his chance to escape. Tearfully, the marten fled from the scene, completely uninjured or his body was at least. Meanwhile, the sea rat gave the futile fight his all, but he was only one vermin and was eventually killed after almost all of his crewmembers had fallen…all but one, his first mate.
Sweetfang wandered around Mossflower country alone, which was a strange and unknown land to one who had spent several seasons at sea. He kept near the river despite his fear of the formidable shrew tribe because he needed freshwater to drink. He recognized none of the native vegetation and didn’t dare eat any of it from fear of accidentally poisoning himself.
He cried himself to sleep at night for an entire week without food. The loss of his final friend and the confirmation of his father’s death were both tremendous pains that ate away at his psyche. Both his emotional suffering and his intensifying hunger caused the pirate-trained vermin to snap and lose his mind almost completely. His vermin heritage and nature helped retain his intelligence and knowledge. Both were used as vital components for his transition into true villainy, which, oddly enough, transpired on the night of the following full moon.
During the time he spent alone, there were some hidden woodlanders who watched the armed marten from a safe distance. They were all squirrels carrying bows and filled quivers with which they were very familiar. They knew he was the only survivor of the vermin pirate crew that had invaded their country. News traveled fast among allies.
If Sweetfang showed any malice toward a woodlander, they would not hesitate to unleash a flurry of projectiles upon him. It seemed like his final offer for a peaceful existence. Despite their invisible offer of mercy, the squirrel archers ached for an excuse to kill him.
Toward the end of that fateful night under a full moon, Sweetfang noticed some movement in a nearby tree. Naturally built for climbing, the half-starved creature chose to investigate. Luck was on his side, most of the squirrels had stopped monitoring him and returned from whence they came. All except one who remained were asleep. In seconds, he found himself facing a lone conscious squirrel maid atop a thick tree branch.
Sweetfang grinned at the armed squirrel and, for a moment, she lowered her guard in surprise. In that instant, he unsheathed his sword and slit her throat with a swift and almost effortless stroke. The squirrel collapsed lifelessly on her front and seeing her blood spill from her ruined throat caused him tremendous hunger pains. Without a second thought, he collected her corpse for breakfast.
With a sharpened stick, he skewered the body and roasted it over an open fire. The stench of cooking death slowly awoke the remaining squirrel sentries. They investigated the stomach-turning smell and found only a burnt pile of wood and a stack of bones with some meat still intact and covered in teeth marks. They knew at once from their shape that the bones were all that remained of a beloved friend. Sweetfang had finished what he considered his most delicious meal minutes before any of his stalkers awoke.
He moved on from the area to avoid further unwanted encounters with armed woodlanders. It was difficult for him to remain safe and hidden, however, because of his newfound desire. He hungered for more meat. Gone were the days of settling for scraps of vegetables and occasional crusts of bread; he had tasted what he considered real food. There was no turning back for him!
Seasons came and went and he continued hunting, killing, cooking, and feasting upon the most tender and vulnerable woodlanders he could find. He made enemies aplenty during his extended and seemingly permanent stay in Mossflower country. His skills also grew with practice as though to counterbalance the danger.
He disposed of most of those who opposed him without much difficulty including some who fancied themselves proper warriors. The courageous and unfortunate fools dreadfully lacked the skill needed to face off against the dangerous Sweetfang. Many who have fallen to his blade for as long as he has owned it have had their remains defiled via consumption and defecation.
Relationships:
Mother: Deceased
Brother: Deceased
Former Captain: Deceased
Father: Deceased
Gender: Male
Age: He is an adult. (Since Brian Jacques never specified an age for his characters, I won't either regardless of the board's aging rate standard for characters. It isn't something I would feel comfortable doing.)
Species: Pine Marten
Occupation: Hunter
Physical Appearance:
Almost sparkling golden-brown fur thickly covers much of his body. It grows thickest along his large tail; a considerable asset toward his balance and coordination. As if in contrast, bright yellow-orange fur seems to explode underneath his chin. The bold and shorter hairs spread downward along his throat, chest, belly, inner thighs, and the undersides of his upper arms.
His fur is thinnest around his face, especially around his nose and near his extended mouth where whiskers reside aplenty. His orange eyes seem to conclude the autumnal color scheme of his body. His ears are considerably large and somewhat angular. Short claws adorn his hands and feet, but they are not nearly long enough to cause a creature any real harm.
He is indeed a typical marten with a long neck and a slightly arching back. Both make him considerably tall or long depending on his position. Muscled thighs and long legs also contribute toward his height, but not as much. Instead, his proportionately round lower half is responsible for much of his body weight.
For clothing, he wears only a red tunic almost as darkly shaded as a forest night. Where the blood stains of past victims end and the original fabric color begins on his attire is anyone’s guess.
Possessions
A short curved scabbard hangs from his sash; contained within resides a terrible weapon that has caused many innocent creatures their deaths in the left hand of its owner, a kilij (literally translates to sword in Turkish). It is a light weapon easily wielded with a single hand. Its blade gently curves upward and maintains a narrow width until the final third of its length. At that point, the blade suddenly widens only to taper slowly into a deadly point. It is the wide portion of the blade that gives the weapon its devastating cutting power.
Its brass-colored hilt curves in the opposite direction of the blade and fattens at the end into a pommel-like section. It has a cross-shaped guard that sharply curves into a diamond shape toward the center. The hilt is considerably wider than the blade and its guard has a small hollow opening surrounding the blade’s base.
Personality:
The pine marten is a notorious glutton and, as such, one constant thought in his head predominates all others, FOOD! Spare the nuts, the seeds, the roots, the fruits, the vegetables, and cheeses! Toss the pies, the cakes, the breads, the pasties, and soups and stews away!
What he desires is the tender and succulent flesh of woodlanders. They’re always keeping the meat on their bones mouthwateringly tender through work and play. They even do the marten a tremendous favor by staying clean and healthy, assuring him that his vittles aren’t tainted.
Like many predators before and after him, he carefully selects easy prey. However, seasoned woodlanders have such an awful taste that he generally hunts prey of a far younger age. Young ones are vulnerable both physically and mentally, making them his prime choice of meats.
Yes, Sweetfang is such a sinister creature or, more accurately, a sadistic monster caged inside the body of a pine marten. He is no mindless beast, however, and to mistake him for one can prove fatal. No, he is all the more dangerous because of his sharp intellect, cold-heartedness, and wisdom garnered from time itself.
There is an odd quirk about him that only helps denote his complete insanity. He enjoys coming up with new songs in his head and singing them aloud. He can never quite remember the exact lyrics of each of them and never sings the same tune twice because of it. The fact that this deadly character has a beautiful singing voice makes him seem all the more twisted.
Strengths:
Sweetfang is a dexterous creature and is tremendously skilled in climbing trees and scaling walls with his short claws, sidestepping obstacles, and navigating narrow ledges, bridges, and other passageways. That’s just to name some of his best applications for his agility. Not only is he nimble, but he is also fleet of foot. He can keep pace with some of the fastest creatures alive including the finest members of the hare-exclusive long patrol.
Apart from his physical advantages, Sweetfang is both wise and cunning as aforementioned. He is talented at detecting lies. He knows when a promise is empty. He can sense malicious intent beneath flattering words and shallow hospitality. Now comes a good question. Since he does not hesitate to kill young woodlanders who have hardly tasted life, why would he hesitate to kill someone who would try to deceive him?
For combat and self defense, the pine marten knew long ago that he needed a weapon and learn how to use it. He required one that wouldn’t hinder his movement with its size or slow him with its weight. It is for those reasons that he obtained and became highly skilled with his kilij.
Weaknesses:
For all of his wisdom and intelligence, this pine marten doesn’t know the first thing about identifying plants. He knows not what vegetation is edible, poisonous, or even medicinal. As carnivorous as he is, he never felt the need to learn about such things. It is all too apparent that he is woefully useless as a forager.
His brightly colored fur and considerable size makes him highly noticeable. It is difficult for him to hide; stealth is nigh impossible for him. He cannot blend in with his surroundings unless in the company of fellow vermin. Even then he stands out because pine martens aren’t exactly common among vermin hordes.
Another downside he possesses is his inability to read and write. Having been brought up by an equally illiterate mother and never receiving the education that abbey dwellers take for granted, it should come as no surprise. For a vermin, learning how to fight and remaining vigilant even against his own supposed allies is the only education considered essential.
History:
Sweetfang was born in a distant land across the sea. His father had been press-ganged into a pirate crew just after he had grown out of his infancy. The devastating loss left him only with his mother, Sunfur and his older brother, Oakheart. Sunfur loved and cared for him tremendously as all mothers do regardless of their species and equal share of stereotypes. However, he required much more care and attention at such a young age than his brother, who was nearing maturity, did. This caused jealousy to swell inside the older sibling’s mind until he drove himself mad with envy.
Oakheart became delusional and actually believed that his mother hated him and that she had Sweetfang just to replace him. Angry and feeling unwanted, Oakheart suffocated her one night with a pillow while she slept. He intended to do away with his brother using the same method. However, Sweetfang awoke from a terrible dream that night and went to his mother’s bed for comfort.
He reached the open doorway in time for the traumatic image of his older brother pressing a pillow against their dead mother’s face to forever burn itself into his mind. Sweetfang remained still, frozen with horror and confusion at the scene before him; hot tears formed and blurred his vision for a moment. When a sob escaped his mouth, Oakheart quickly turned around and found himself facing his little brother.
Sweetfang wanted to ask why he had hurt their mother, but the older marten, with his crazed expression, was in no state to talk. Instead, Oakheart ran after the young marten with murderous intent flashing in his eyes. Sweetfang turned and ran for his life, but he was not as swift as his nearly fully grown brother. By the time he took one step outside the house, Oakheart had already grabbed hold of him.
He screamed and squirmed frantically, but he was not the only one to have screamed in that moment. A weasel with a raised spear in his clutches had approached the modest marten home. He had been about to have a look inside for food to steal when the two brothers ran outside, terrifying the thief.
Since he was still a child, Sweetfang had been short enough to run beneath the point of the spear without receiving injury. His brother was not as fortunate who had run through the weapon by accident. His death was instant; the spear had impaled his heart.
Sweetfang was far from relieved, he wasn’t sure if he was happy to be alive considering the only family he knew was dead. When Oakheart’s lifeless body was removed from the spear by the weasel, the young marten simply fell onto his hands and knees and cried. The weasel acted sympathetically in response and offered the boy food, water, and protection if he went with him. It took some time to console the boy before Sweetfang accepted his promise of charity.
They arrived at a broad river where a crew of sea pirates temporarily camped. Sweetfang immediately realized his mistake in following the weasel; his mother often told stories about pirates and how dangerous they were. She told him never to approach the malicious lot and to run if one ever saw him and to keep running until he dropped from exhaustion. He wanted to escape, but the weasel, who had acted as a friendly guide until then, prevented him from leaving.
The captain, a black-furred rat, addressed the weasel and asked why he brought them a young pine marten instead of food. The weasel subordinate, in turn, explained that he thought the pine marten could serve as the ship’s new cabin boy. Their last one had been killed for sneaking into the ship's kitchen to steal food.
The weasel said nothing ever again; the pirate captain had driven a dagger into his throat. After killing his own crewmember for incompetence, the captain turned to Sweetfang. The marten had forgotten about his misery and felt only tremendous fear as he trembled in the ferocious captain’s presence.
The pirate captain smiled, which only unnerved the boy further when he recalled one of his mother’s quotes. “A pirate’s grin is more dangerous than his grimace.” The captain then unexpectedly and joyously welcomed Sweetfang to the crew. He could not suppress his natural curiosity despite his fear and asked the rat why. The captain answered him, saying, “I’m one crew-beast short, I need a replacement!” Of course, it was an offer Sweetfang could refuse only if he had tired of living.
Sweetfang spent the remainder of his childhood as the cabin boy aboard the pirate ship appropriately named, The Bone Skimmer. He was treated hardly any better than the slaves below decks chained day and night to the oars. He ate only scraps, slept little, worked his paws raw, and had to sneak water at night because greedy crew-beasts stronger than him always stole from him his rations.
Whatever innocence and purity he gained from his time spent with his mother was washed away as cleanly as the decks he scrubbed multiple times daily. He became a loathsome beast and directed hatred at any creature aboard the vessel whether they were a pirate or slave.
He discovered that the only possible way he could loosen his anger was by inflicting further pain upon the slaves. None of the crew-beasts objected as long as the pine marten refrained from directing his anger at the pirates themselves and only harassed the slaves during his sparse breaks. Tormenting those less fortunate than him quickly became a habit for him and then progressed into an obsession until he found he no longer cared if others lived or died. He even found himself fantasizing about personally killing creatures and joining the pirates in their bloody raids. After awhile, abusing slaves was no longer enough for the depraved beast.
If there was one thing Sweetfang learned during his time aboard The Bone Skimmer, it was how to tell when others were lying, joking, or intended to do another harm. Crew-beasts died more often by their own hands than they did during their raids against defenseless towns and villages and were replaced just as quickly and easily. Detecting deceit and other signs of danger were necessary for surviving aboard a pirate ship.
Whenever one pirate was slain by a supposed comrade, the captain would encourage Sweetfang to pick up the dead pirate’s weapon and claim it for himself. The rat assured him that he needed a weapon and that without one, he could not hope to live much longer.
The pirate captain was an enigma to Sweetfang, he could never read him as he could with others. He always wondered if the pirate sincerely wished to train him and saw potential in him or if it was all merely a game the rat played in his spare time for personal amusement.
In either case, the pine marten eventually found his weapon of choice when he had grown enough to lift and wield one, a kilij. It was a curved sword that had ended the lives of innocents many times prior to coming into Sweetfang’s obsession. Even after he had done as the rat suggested, Sweetfang was kept behind during many of the raids that followed. Was it the pirate captain’s genuine desire to keep him safe despite how cruelly the crew treated him?
He spent more than four seasons training himself with his blade. He also tested it and himself in many spars against crew-beasts who started showing him some respect. He had grown taller than many of them in his mature seasons and he readily used his size to intimidate past tormentors and fresh faces.
After feeling he had mastered his own weapon, he killed the ship’s first mate. He then issued a challenge to the entire crew of one on one mortal combat to fill in as the new second in command. The smiling captain only observed without interfering and chuckled to himself when none of his cowardly underlings accepted the challenge.
The final attempted raid of The Bone Skimmer and its crew was also Sweetfang’s first because he had finally earned the admiration of his captain. The rat unwisely decided to invade Mossflower country. There, what seemed like an armada of Guosim log boats greeted the ship and the innumerous shrew sailors overwhelmed the pirates, killing most of them.
The rat captain knew all was lost and revealed to Sweetfang a tremendous secret. The pirate had been a good friend to Sweetfang's father. Together, they arranged a successful mutiny against their old captain; the pirate who had forcefully recruited the marten’s father, breaking his family in one heartless act. Unfortunately, Sweetfang’s father lost his life to one of the original captain’s few supporters. Had he survived, Sweerfang’s father would have assumed command of the ship only long enough to return home to his family.
The pirate captain then entered the fray and slew dozens of shrews in his final act alive; it was an act of self sacrifice. Sweetfang's father had done the same for him and he figured it was time to return the favor since he had lost everything anyway. He occupied the defending forces of Mossflower well enough on his own to provide Sweetfang his chance to escape. Tearfully, the marten fled from the scene, completely uninjured or his body was at least. Meanwhile, the sea rat gave the futile fight his all, but he was only one vermin and was eventually killed after almost all of his crewmembers had fallen…all but one, his first mate.
Sweetfang wandered around Mossflower country alone, which was a strange and unknown land to one who had spent several seasons at sea. He kept near the river despite his fear of the formidable shrew tribe because he needed freshwater to drink. He recognized none of the native vegetation and didn’t dare eat any of it from fear of accidentally poisoning himself.
He cried himself to sleep at night for an entire week without food. The loss of his final friend and the confirmation of his father’s death were both tremendous pains that ate away at his psyche. Both his emotional suffering and his intensifying hunger caused the pirate-trained vermin to snap and lose his mind almost completely. His vermin heritage and nature helped retain his intelligence and knowledge. Both were used as vital components for his transition into true villainy, which, oddly enough, transpired on the night of the following full moon.
During the time he spent alone, there were some hidden woodlanders who watched the armed marten from a safe distance. They were all squirrels carrying bows and filled quivers with which they were very familiar. They knew he was the only survivor of the vermin pirate crew that had invaded their country. News traveled fast among allies.
If Sweetfang showed any malice toward a woodlander, they would not hesitate to unleash a flurry of projectiles upon him. It seemed like his final offer for a peaceful existence. Despite their invisible offer of mercy, the squirrel archers ached for an excuse to kill him.
Toward the end of that fateful night under a full moon, Sweetfang noticed some movement in a nearby tree. Naturally built for climbing, the half-starved creature chose to investigate. Luck was on his side, most of the squirrels had stopped monitoring him and returned from whence they came. All except one who remained were asleep. In seconds, he found himself facing a lone conscious squirrel maid atop a thick tree branch.
Sweetfang grinned at the armed squirrel and, for a moment, she lowered her guard in surprise. In that instant, he unsheathed his sword and slit her throat with a swift and almost effortless stroke. The squirrel collapsed lifelessly on her front and seeing her blood spill from her ruined throat caused him tremendous hunger pains. Without a second thought, he collected her corpse for breakfast.
With a sharpened stick, he skewered the body and roasted it over an open fire. The stench of cooking death slowly awoke the remaining squirrel sentries. They investigated the stomach-turning smell and found only a burnt pile of wood and a stack of bones with some meat still intact and covered in teeth marks. They knew at once from their shape that the bones were all that remained of a beloved friend. Sweetfang had finished what he considered his most delicious meal minutes before any of his stalkers awoke.
He moved on from the area to avoid further unwanted encounters with armed woodlanders. It was difficult for him to remain safe and hidden, however, because of his newfound desire. He hungered for more meat. Gone were the days of settling for scraps of vegetables and occasional crusts of bread; he had tasted what he considered real food. There was no turning back for him!
Seasons came and went and he continued hunting, killing, cooking, and feasting upon the most tender and vulnerable woodlanders he could find. He made enemies aplenty during his extended and seemingly permanent stay in Mossflower country. His skills also grew with practice as though to counterbalance the danger.
He disposed of most of those who opposed him without much difficulty including some who fancied themselves proper warriors. The courageous and unfortunate fools dreadfully lacked the skill needed to face off against the dangerous Sweetfang. Many who have fallen to his blade for as long as he has owned it have had their remains defiled via consumption and defecation.
Relationships:
Mother: Deceased
Brother: Deceased
Former Captain: Deceased
Father: Deceased
