Pieces Set

“You’ve come to me for a story, have you?... Well, then, let me, the good old Crow, tell you a story. A true story. One I was present for... One that led to the deaths of many fine, young woodland critters.”

It all started in a decent enough little town called Badgerfell. Filled with all sorts of people and critters, it was officially ruled quite peacefully by Mayor Badger, and Captain Ferret.

Mayor Badger was of course the sort to not stand so boldly above his fellows, wearing a simple red vest and white undershirt with a classic bow tie, though his sophistication preserved itself with the monocle he wore and the golden pocket watch in the upper left breast pocket of his vest. His legal name was Drago, and like his father before him he was known as a crafty if a bit secretive fellow. Some had even tried to take his life, much to their dismay at the motley string of failures followed up with a trail of shallow graves wherever the assassins made their attempts... Though it had been especially prominent recently. Just last week, three of the little fellows known as Zeds made their attempt, though the mass manufactured bots didn’t stand a chance.

Walking beside him and inspecting every crevice in town was Captain Ferret, the military executive of the distant and slow moving producers of Advancedwood. With a long, fairly stereotypical scar running across his eyes and the bridge of his nose, it was fairly plain that this ferret had seen shit no ferret should ever have to see. At his waist at all times was an arming sword and a one handed axe, and from the shoulders down to his pants he was dressed in all grey and bland clothing, though it seemed padded, possible lightly armoured. No boots though, after all, what ferret in his right mind would wear something that would slow him down? He was a veteran of the OT wars, a series of conflicts in which most everyone went mad. Not Brovo, though he legally changed his name to Captain Ferret, so one had to ask if he did return home in one piece after all...

The street they were on was fairly quiet, remarkable. Too quiet. Captain Ferret’s eyes looked about each alley with a paranoid look as they entered a small restaurant run by a blind mole. There, my astute listeners, there they met what would soon be their greatest enemy.

The legendary Moth Boss.

The restaurant, normally bustling with activity, was dead silent in a sort of petrified awe, too hypnotized with what they were seeing to listen to their instinct to run while they had the chance. Walking around with a strut that screamed nobility, Idle’s smile was full of daggers, her eyes reflected the very light around her as though not even the highest of judges could touch such a figure... Oh, and ‘twas such a lithe figure, with beautiful wings and a fashion sense that only complimented the way her wings wrapped around her curvacious frame. Spotting Mayor Badger, she licked her lips while Captain Ferret growled lowly, grabbing a nearby apple off a plate and biting into it. “My, darling, how forward of you.” She comments as she looks over Captain Ferret with an amused smirk. In the middle of chewing, Ferret retorted with distrust and paranoia. “Don’t get any ideas bright eyes. I’m just hungry, not thirsty.”

Mayor Badger shakes his head as he looks her over. “You realize the bounty on your head is high enough to pay for the expenses of the town for a hundred years.” The Moth Boss laughs. “True, but what does that matter to you?” He starts to approach her, only to feel the familiar paw of Captain Ferret on his shoulder. Nodding back to his friend, he then simply glares at her. “This town is too small for a lady like you.” She shrugs and gently caresses the head of a nearby mouse. “Maybe.” With one twist of her wrist, the mouse’s neck snaps. “But I want it anyway, and I always get--” She’s interrupted as the Captain lunges for her, arming sword unsheathed into a downward swing from above, only for an unearthly screech and a flutter of feathers to resound throughout the restaurant.

Standing in front of Captain Ferret was the unnatural glare from a pair of dead eyes. Captain Ferret’s eyes quickly move over the rest of the form before him, a figure covered head to toe in feathers, nearly twice his size with a pair of large wings, one of which had caught and entangled his blade between the feathers. Surely it must have cut into the flesh, and yet, only a black, grungy liquid trickled down to the blade’s pommel. With a single twist, the blade is ripped from Ferret’s hands as he stumbles backward and sent spiraling away, shattering a window and falling outside. “Ah, there, a little slow weren’t you?” The old raven crowed, fluttering his wings as little black droplets began to stain the floor around his talons. “I am sorry my fairest lady.” Reaching up to slowly caress the top of his head, Idle had to stand on the tips of her toes just to reach it, though he coo’d at the soft touch as the Moth Boss then glared at Mayor Badger, who was shaking with anger.

“I’ve heard you have secrets.” Her eyes move across the entire restaurant. “That this entire town has secrets... The kind that could make a small time insect like me very powerful.” Captain Ferret unsheathed his axe, and stepped back to Mayor Badger’s side. “Well ain’t it just a shame my town isn’t for sale.” Drago crosses his arms over his puffed out chest, hissing at the crow as he glares at her. “What’s your name anyway?” The crow cackles, then coughs heavily, before replying. “Gold Marble, badger.” A slight curl reaches Drago’s face. “Good, I know which grave to return you to when you make the mistake of coming after me like your little Zed bots did.”

The entire restaurant goes silent, neither side making a move for a few moments before the sound of a metal tray hitting the counter behind the Moth Boss gets all of them to stare at the blind mole chef. “Welcome to Hollywood.” He says as he points at the sign above the counter. “I’m the Mole, and these are my baked cookies.” The Moth Boss blinks in confusion, then laughs. “Oh I’m going to like it here.” Mayor Badger grumbles as he looks to Captain Ferret, motioning for him to leave with him. “Aww, leaving so soon boys?” Idle teases as Mayor Badger looks back at her. “...I don’t give no fucks.” He leaves, with Captain Ferret in tow.

All the while, the mouse’s corpse was left there, all parties forgetting that it even happened as they were too busy trading insults with one another. Though they all knew the next encounter between any of them would be one of violence and mayhem. The stage has been set, the pieces in place, introductions had... The only question was no longer of if, but when, it would erupt into the bloodiest conflict of all time.

The only question that remained was who would take who’s side?

Name: If you want to name yourself. Leave this blank if you want me to name you.

Faction: Badgers, Moths, or Random. Note “random” can give you a side that belongs to neither the Badgers or Moths, such as “lunatic serial killer”.

Animal/Etc: Pick an animal. You’ll get behaviours and abilities from that animal. You can also pick something else other than an animal.

Special: Pick a special ability if you want one. As an example, Captain Ferret is a kleptomaniac and can disarm opponents passively.

”It had been a couple hours after the initial event as this aged raven recalls when the first significant stroke came not from the Badgers...”

Sleuthing about in the darkness of an alleyway, the scampering of several cockroaches marked the badly mutilated corpse of someone who had been struck by the lightning of a Valkyrie. Smiral wrinkles her nose in disgust at the scent, stepping around the remnants of what was once a turtle, now most certainly delicious to the hecklers who lapped up his blood. The town’s one menace had been slain ages ago, and yet, his stench still perforated this place.

Smiral’s hands slowly glide over the brick wall, looking for the hidden switch she had been told about. “That otter better not have lied about this shit.” She murmurs as her whiskers twitch with the all too familiar click of a passage opening. “Hehehe... Well what do you know...” Cackling quietly, she slouches over as she enters the small passage, which had likely been designed for the lithe bodies of mice rather than her own, more muscular frame. Indeed, one could say that Smiral’s black pants and shirt—which was tucked into her pants—went well with the dark, with only a single belt cinched around her waist to keep her shirt from bellowing out anytime she had to jump from one place to another. Some might question why she appeared so bland, her usual response was “what kind of idiot wears eight belts.”

Slipping inside, she quickly checks herself over. Smoke bombs, check. Rope and grappling hook, check. Billy club for the bitches, check. Grinning avariciously she quickly moves through the tunnel into the complex, upward onto a second floor where she found herself in a laundry shoot. Quietly pawing it open, she slips inside. It was a luxurious compound, her eyes opening widely at the sights and sounds of obscene wealth that drowned out her typically cool demeanour. Shaking herself out, she then slips about the halls until she finds her target, dining quietly in a hall with her solitary crow watching over her. Licking her lips she spots the target: A small amethyst, resting on the corner of the table.

”Perfect.”

Without hesitation, she throws a smoke bomb into the room. Following it quickly as it exploded, she reaches for the amethyst amidst all the smoke, instead grasping Idle’s hand, which had already clung to the amethyst. “LET GO!” The Moth Boss screeched as Smiral does what any coyote does in such a situation: Bites Idle’s arm, hard, right at the wrist. Twisting and rending she then feels the feathery wing of Gold Marble smack her away, sending her sprawling through the air several feet before landing on the ground, outside of the smoke. She could hear the shrieking rage of the Moth Boss, scrambling to her feet she looks in her hands to see the Amethyst and some splatters of blood on her gloves. Grinning viciously she dashes out of the room back into the halls, hearing the screams of the Moth Queen demanding her head on a platter.

Still. That wasn’t her main problem.

The main problem came to trying to navigate back to the laundry shoot. Looking around in confusion she realizes she had lost track of where she had gone. “Ah... Shit. Um...” She looks left, down a hall, then right, down a hall. Every hall looked the same in her eyes, being moreso a thug and not a thief, she wasn’t much one for an escape plan. Still, her indecision was broken upon hearing the wall behind her getting blown apart. There was Gold Marble, his feathers seemingly as sharp as the executioner’s blades that now reflected in her own eyes as she panics and flees down the left hall.

There at the end of the left hall was a window, she could jump out of that! Escape was in sight! An undead fellow steps out of his room into the hall, looking down to see the enraged Gold Marble and the terrified Smiral he attempts to step in the way, only to see a grappling hook fly through the air and impale itself into his chest. “Derp?” He says with confusion as Smiral flicks a switch on the grappling hook, being pulled out of harm’s way just in time as Gold Marble swings his wing, unleashing half a dozen sharp fletchette-like projectiles. Flipping overtop of the mook she hides behind his large frame, seeing the fletchettes impale themselves into the mook. One of them pierces his back and cuts Smiral’s cheek deeply, yelping in pain she leaves the grappling hook behind and bolts for the window once more.

Jumping through the window, she reminds herself how stupid an action movie cliché she was doing as she falls several feet back down into the alley, bouncing off of a trash bin before rolling into the alley. There, she lied motionless, not saying a word as Gold Marble came down and investigated. There was nothing out of the ordinary, just another corpse to be eaten by the cockroaches as he retrieved the amethyst. “No simple thief gets to have my soul.” He hoarsely comments to himself before suddenly, and without warning, he feels a billy club smack him over the back of the head as Smiral hops onto his back and starts wailing away at his head. “FALL UNCONSCIOUS YOU CLICHED PIECE OF SHIT!” She screeches as Gold Marble silently stumbles about, trying to knock her off.

Eventually, Gold Marble rushes himself into a wall, buckling it and sending the both of them sprawling into a dark warehouse. There, Smiral spends a few seconds coughing up half a lung as blood from her cheek rolls onto the floor, looking around she notices she didn’t have the amethyst. Then again, neither did Gold Marble as she saw him searching about frantically for it. Breathing softly, she throws her last smoke bomb at him, leaving him blind as she takes off out of the warehouse and back out onto the streets. Fuck that, the crow could have his little purple gem.

Then, just as she felt she had escaped, she sees someone swing into the alley with his tail. Landing in front of her, he chuckles and spreads his arms out wide as a sort of introduction. “I am CIL! The one and only CIL! And I can--” Smiral interjects. “Fuck off.” Brushing past him, she starts walking for the local tavern, only to get smacked across the back of her head by his tail. Turning with her billy club out and heckles raised, she stops as she sees the shining purple gem in his hands... The amethyst. Looking at it with a small smile, she motions in the direction of the tavern. “What do you want you little shit?” CIL shrugs. “An adventure! Fun! And this shiny bobble promises adventure!” Smiral snatches it out of his hands and pockets it. “Yeah. It does. Just don’t say anything stupid and you can stay.” CIL stares at her, his lips twitching as he fought back his own nature, at least for the time, to make a pun.

Still. The two start walking out towards the tavern as they hear one loud shriek of rage echo throughout the entire town. CIL looks back with his eyes wide in fright. “... M-Maybe that was a bit of a bad idea?” He says, his tail quivering as Smiral smacked the back of his head. “No way. This is gonna land me a huge payday... Assuming I can figure out why the Otter wants it so bad.” Her eyes look over the amethyst with intense greed, her grin matching that look in her eyes. “...And if I should charge double...”

---

Back in the Moth Mansion, Idle was having her hand stitched up by her personal doctor. The fox had gray whiskers, a similar vest-shirt combo that most men wore if simply because it stayed out of her way during surgeries. Her needle stitches the wound closed before giving the Moth back her glove. “Here.” Fay says softly, as Idle slowly slips on the white glove to hide the wound. “As always, good work...” Gold Marble returned, growling and frustrated as he was coated in dust with several lumps on his head. “...Now help him... And then, we’re going to send out our personal hitman... Find that little damnable coyote, and find out who hired her... And when I find out...” Her eyes were filled with rage as her hands clench, the stiffness of the new cloth gloves not impeding her whatsoever. “...I will have their heads strewn about my ball room for the guests to use as Tupperware.”