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Barroom blitz

Mibbet kept a cautious eye on the newcomer, not quite sure how he expected to fight. Not an hour ago he had been completely blotto. Then she heard his comment.

“Oh twenty of you, to rob poor Miss Slinky, you must be so proud.”

There were ten........ OK so maybe he wasn’t sober yet, but a well flung wine bottle well and truly beaned the leader, oh well no time to think she still had trash to take out. Dancing through the enemy ranks swinging Choppy she figured Alba was doing well enough by themselves and this was hardly the environment for mounted combat.

Slinky reached to her side and unfurled something that looked like a cross between a paint brush roll and a bag of holding. Reaching in she drew some throwing knives and joined the fray.

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Errol was looking rather different today, of course his armour still didn’t exactly fit, but he was glowing on the battlefield, literally. No wonder all his gear was hand me down it was a whole suit made up of random pieces meant to fit an aura master, though from how often it flickered it was fairly obvious that the term “master” may be a tad overgenerous, maybe an aura middle manager would suit him better for now. He swung the aura reinforced bone in one hand, and his sword in the other, yet despite dual wielding being a rather bad idea for the most part (a shield is useful for keeping jabby things from squishy things you really need, another sword just makes that harder unless you are completely ambidextrous,) he was really kicking ass and taking names. Sir Leeroy meanwhile was a bipedal battering ram tending to charge in headlong and break the enemies ranks. (He wasn’t nicknamed stone skull for nothing, over the years many an enemy had met their fates by meeting either helmet or forehead, the result was always the same. A long nap for the enemy and a slight boo boo for him. As far as he was concerned that was more than a fair trade.

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Rascal was having the time of their lives, all the rats they could hunt, and so long as they picked on the right side a massive supply of fresh targets. One of them had tried to drop something that smelled weird but Rascal had put an end to that nonsense by literally disarming the opponent. Things tended to throw much better with all their limbs. (Almost like they wouldn’t fight without them all, wusses. It was fortunate that while beating their opponent with their own newly detached limb might have been amusing to Rascal logistically cats really couldn’t pull it off.)

The little Sqwoomphette was even getting in on the action, running around in the most ridiculous manner biting ankles. Being careful not to let their opponents see their terrifying array of teeth. For the sake of Sqwoomphettes everywhere they had a reputation as a cute fluffy little ball of adorableness to preserve, though it was odd how nervous some of the intruders were over their presence, she really hoped that wouldn’t spread. That sort of thing was bad for business.

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

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Alba was backed up into a corner by a few newcomers, they slinked backwards on all fours, trying the whole cute and vulnerable gambit. On reflection that tended to work better prior to dismembering several of your opponents comrades . People get huffy about that sort of thing.

“We’ve got the owl-bear on the ropes” one sneered. “Look at it slink off” the intruder readied their heavy spear and with three allies armed the same they started to advance.

Little known thing about corners, if you aren’t the dodging type they have their advantages, and now it was time for Alba to remind them they were part bear.

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Dipper was a newcomer to the gang, this was perfect. If they could get credit for the final blow on an owl-bear they were set, and all they had to do was off the others later for all the credit. (Of course they likely also had the same plans, but Dipper was confident they were the best. For now though it was time to finish this brute off. Maybe even weaken it enough for a taming collar, that would be the big money. As the trio advanced the owl-bear stood up............... oh my........... maybe this wasn’t the best plan, that creature was a bit bigger up close, and some sick bastard had strapped segmented metal over the squishy underbelly, what kind of monster takes a creature like this and makes it tougher?

Still they had a job to do, and it was a bit late to run like hell. So the trio advanced, levelling their..........half spears....... wait these were full length heavy spears............ Oh crap. Digger pondered for a moment whether an owl-bear was capable of accepting a surrender when the creature let out a deafening screech, and lunged forward as everything went black.

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Addy was having fun, not long ago this fight would have been downright impossible for her, but now. She found a good fight to be quite enjoyable (though calling what their opponents were doing here that would be an insult to good fights.) She picked up another pair of would be kidnappers who were quickly learning that stabbing vital points requires your opponent to have said organs first, and decided to hammer the point home by hammering their heads together. (She was unaware the duo were brothers who bickered so often if their mother was informed she had literally banged their heads together they would probably have sent a really nice thank you card, after all she’d been wanting to do that for years.)

Another rat came forward and this time were playing it smart (or at least as smart as this bunch ever get.) They were swinging a rock-breakers hammer. Of course such a weapon is a lot more effective if you can swing from out of range of your opponent. But Addy definitely had reach advantage, as she slammed her fist down...............

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Back at the tower The Greys were informed of the failed attack. The pair grinned to each other. If their was one thing rats knew it was that sometimes you need the right bait.