The battle train rounds the corner, manned by a guard, and followed by a group of 100 or so rat-slaves, and behind them a smaller group of 30 or so, rat guards, outfitted with spears with copper tips, but the same poor quality spears. The only armor they wear are the leathers of their fellow rats. The rat slaves don't have very good weapons, at best they have a rough copper, or stone knife, and at worst they have a big rock.

They descend into the tunnel. The battle train, at the forefront, but enough space, on either side for two more rats to walk side by side, on either side, so they force slaves to the very front, on the sides, and behind them the guards urge them onward.

They slide forward, and all of a sudden, their torches illuminate a group of nine creatures. Larger than the rats by quite a lot, they stand on two legs. They have quite a lot of similarities to the rats except they have large, powerful claws on their hands, and they seem to dislike the light illuminated by the torches.

“We are friends.” A mole person steps forward, and speak in a feminine voice. “We are friends.” She repeats.

Talon's eyes widen. "Kill-break them! Kill-break! Smash-run over, eat-devour them!" He throws his hand forward, and in it he holds his dagger.

The mole persons, eyes go wide, and they put their hands up. “No, we.” A rat slave runs forward, and in he holds a heavy rock, between his two hands, he pulls it overhead, and swings it at one of the mole people. The person bats it aside, their claws, slicing the stone, like butter.

The rat jumps back, in surprise, but then dives forward, again, and bites one of the moles, on the arm. This one is far less kind, and with one swipe of its hand, eviscerates its grey matter from the bone, holding it within its flesh.

More rats, jump forward, swinging, poor quality weapons, clubs, stones, crappy knives. The knives are very ineffective, as they barely pierce through their flesh. They do hurt, but only barely.

The stones are unwieldy, but still if they make contact they can hurt.

But the clubs are the most dangerous.

More of the rats swarm forward, but the moles are a blur, with every swipe they dissect another rat. They go through nearly 30 rats, before the battle train, in front of them revs, and with a groan, it pushes forward, gaining enough speed in an instant, to kill them. 4 of the 8 moles jump to the right, and the remaining four, jump up, and into the grill of the train.

A puff of smoke escapes the train, and one of the moles breathes it in. A mistake, he falls over, and vomits, on the ground, as his eyes water. The four moles on the right side of the train, in a rage, push up against the train, and their muscles bulge, pushing it against the wall, their muscles bulge. The other three moles drop from on top, and comfort the heaving mole.

The rest of the rat-slaves try to retreat, but screaming ensues, and the spears of the rat guards pierce another 5 slaves, before they turn back to the moles, and rush at them.

The moles, pull the back side of the train, over, and jm the train in diagonally. Another rat drops down from the compartment, and they quickly slaughter him, before retreating further down their tunnel.

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Tanol thrashes and rages. "Pull-free it! Gather more paws! We smash-defeat them!"

But on the other side of the conflict, the moles get to the other end of the tunnel, and begin speaking with their own people. “They are not friendly.” The female speaks. “I'm certain, they will try to attack us more. But they are very weak. We should fortify those tunnels, and start making armor.”

Another mole speaks, male this time. “Yes, I agree.”

They quickly return to the tunnel, and build something of a wall, by piling dirt, and rubble up. This sealed most of the tunnel leaving only a one man wide path through. This is very advantageous for the moles, as it prevents the rats from swarming.

Another mole, all the while is working on armor. The moles, skilled hands, were able to work the metal into something of a piece of armor. First a chest piece. More like two metal plates, with leather straps, over the shoulders, simple, but effective.

The smith was working on more armor when they heard them.

The chugging of the train's engine, and the scraping noises of paws, and the metal wheels of the train.

They rush to the chokepoint, the female, wearing the armor leading the charge. “Quickly, defend!” They arrive at their chokepoint, just in time, to see a slave, poking his head through the gap.

With one slash, the rat is headless, the body limp on the floor. She kicks the body pack down the path. To this a hiss resounds, and more rats push forward. They are forced into the pathway, one at a time, and so are far more effective.

But, one by one, as their bodies pile up, they climb up the bodies, and have the high ground over her.

This is apparent when she kills a rat, and glances up, only to find another rat, jumping downward. Club, overhead, prepped for a devastating blow. She eviscerated him, his underbelly left exposed by his foolish move.

But before his body even hits the floor, another rat is falling towards her. ‘

She grimaces, and pushes forward, in an attempt to climb, this pile of bodies, and so to rid them of their advantage. She steps forward, slowly but surely. Her claws a whirl of blood and death. The matted fur flies around her, blocking her vision as another rat steps forward for the slaughter.

She slits its throat, and throws it back down the pile, and into the enemy. Her feet sink into the chest cavity of a body, and she glances down, distracted.

She stumbles back, as a club rings on her chest plate like a gong. She glares at the bastard who took advantage of her distraction, and she throws herself forward, her claws a blur, and the poor rats guts paint her feet. She massacres, more, and more, and more. Until she hears the words.

"Stop! Stop! Think-new plan, quick-fast!" Talon cries out, and draws the attention to him. He waves his paws frantically, and they begin to retreat down the tunnel, slowing but surely, fading into the darkness.

The female, turns back, and steps down the pile of corpses towards her comrades, who look at her with awe. “Battle Queen.” They whisper reverently, and reach out, to touch her claws.

She grimaces. “They will come back, we must forge more armor.”

I laugh. So either the rats are really weak, or this chick is very strong. Or maybe it's just the mole people species, but she does seem to be exceptional.

I turn my attention to Talon. "She kill-crushed 70 of our rat-kin! We think-new plan to kill-kill her! We must make new machine, or-or use-old machine in new way!" he waves, his paws frantically, and they all nod at his wise guidance, but retreat, back down the tunnel.

After they leave the tunnel, he gives them an order. "Leave 50 rat-kin here, so we trap-surround her, if she come-back! And-and, leave big-battle train!"

They all nod, and stand, in a semi circle around the way out of the tunnel.

Talon skitters off, and into his little laboratory. He quickly begins working on a new way to slaughter the meat.