Leslie Hanson had finished her morning routine, and headed off to work. As she stepped out through the front door, she said a quick goodbye to her pet lord of darkness, without even bothering to look to make certain that he was there. Despite the fact that she was was always an early riser, she was already running late. Still, she had considered taking a peek at her new tailless mouse which was still presently unnamed, but ultimately decided against it. Even putting her lack of time aside, the new pet was very strange. One naturally couldn't expect for random rodent off of the street to be immediately loving and affectionate, that wasn't the issue. There was just something unnerving about the way that it never stopped running, doing pull-ups against the roof of the cage, and hopping about on two feet, shadow boxing the empty air. It all felt very unmouselike, even if she didn't quite know enough about mice to confirm that theory. Clearly some Internet searching would be required to further understand the needs of her new pet. She wasn't too concerned, however, figuring that It must have just had a lot of pent up energy from being caged, safely assuming that it would calm down before too long.
It wouldn't be a long walk to the law office where an infinite amount of paperwork awaited her, every piece of which she was assured was incredibly important, but far more often than not would simply end up filed away, never to be read by a single living soul, just like so many others over the years. It wasn't so bad, though. She spent the days fantasizing about covering the drab legal documents with glitter and star stickers, adding pictures with funny little captions. Not too funny, of course, as that would be distracting, just the sort of pleasant middle ground which might inspire a small grin, even if that smile doesn't quite reach the person's mouth. Still, you know that it's there.
The woman's heels clacked against the sidewalk as she walked, and then nearly stumbled, as she barely prevented herself from tripping over the large grey cat which had stepped out in front of her feet.
It tensed up, looking at her nervously with wide silver eyes. It didn't specifically fear humans, and knew that most of them were harmless. They were, however a wildcard, an extra variable best not dealt with, as if they did prove unpleasant, unlike most other creatures, fighting them wasn't really much of an option.
The woman crouched down and spoke to the creature in a soothing voice. Fury could maybe understand one word of every five, it having been such a long time since he had been last spoken to with any regularity, but even though the words were largely unintelligible, they still felt comforting somehow. She extended a palm, which smelled very nice, and he stepped forward. It was pleasant being petted again, at least until she had petted the wrong spot. He winced at the touch of the large bump above his eye, the swelling having gone down considerably, but it still caused him a great deal of pain, both to touch and whether he tried to do anything foolish like looking anywhere but straight forward or moving his head even the smallest amount.
She had recognized this immediately, looking closer at the injury, rubbing his other ear, and offering a soothing consolatory tone, to which he replied with a soft, contented meow. The human continued to speak, he listening, even if not really understanding, at least not until the magic word came up, the word that all cats were instinctively able to understand when spoken in any human language: Food.
For the woman, work would have to wait. She had always had a soft spot for an animal in need, or in the case of Jerin, not so much in need, but rather just available. This scruffy, scarred and clearly injured creature, devoid of a collar and clearly unkempt, was both available and as much in need as any animal she had ever seen. Normally, the large feline would have freaked out over anyone attempting to pick him up, but there was something warm, soft and soothing about the human, and living in the car yards, this wasn't the sort of sensation that he had experienced particularly often. Warmth and softness were alien concepts to that cold and desolate place.
Unfortunately for her, the cat was unusually heavy, but fortunately her house wasn't particularly far away, where she had some pink bandages to wrap around his head, a tin of wet food to feed it (although based on his size, probably two or three would be needed to properly fill his stomach), and a big soft blanket for him to cuddle in. This was a cause worthy of a sick day if ever there were one. Plus, she had some adorable photos of her twin nephews which, given proper placement and a few extra accessories, could always be made all the more adorable. The dark lord Fury couldn't hear these thoughts of course, but even if he could, they would all (including the scrapbooking) sound like pretty great ideas.
Once she stepped back inside, she set down the heavyset feline, and not a moment too soon, either, as the cat had proved far heavier than she had expected, and walked into the living room to introduce Midnight to what was sure to be his new best friend. She froze in place. Her black cat was missing, but that was hardly unusual. Although generally quite lazy, he did take the occasional stroll, leaving through the pet door at random periods. The unusual thing was that her new mouse was also missing. Even more unusual than that was the large hole within the wall of the cage, the bars of it warped and curled away as though struck by some immense force. By far the most unusual detail, however, was the fact that the bars were bent outwards, implying that the great impact had come from the inside of the cage.
<3~ =^..^=
"You know that I'm going to get blamed for the cage, don't you?" Midnight grumbled, sprinting down the sidewalk, a white mouse straddling his back.
"I don't see why you would." Jerin replied, tightly gripping the soft, black fur. Cat fur really was pleasant to the touch. She could see why humans liked the dark lords so much.
"The whole plan was to get you out and back before my owner returned from work. Now, even if we do, she's doing to see that the cage was wrecked! Why couldn't you just use the door like I told you?"
"I tried the door! It didn't work!"
"You were doing it wrong! I told you to lift the little key thing and then turn it."
"I did!"
"No, you tried to turn it and then lift it."
Jerin paused and hmmmed, finally shaking her head. "I'm not hearing a difference."
The dark lord sighed. "Whatever, what's done is done. We've got a deal, though, right? You go back, help your friends and beat up that jerk of a king, or whatever it is you plan on doing, then you come back with me. Maybe we can even fix that cage somehow before she gets back."
Jerin nodded her head. "Deal."
It wasn't as though Midnight had a great deal of choice in this matter. The mouse could clearly escape on her own, and it would have been virtually impossible to keep her there without injuring her. Injuring her was similarly not an option, as his owner would be furious. There was also the trivial matter of him not wishing to see the small mouse harmed himself, but he made an effort to convince himself that that was not a factor. Plus, he had to admit that this whole thing was rather exciting. He didn't expect to end up doing any fighting, as it would be pretty one sided if he did, but he'd get a good view of the action if nothing else.
Leonard worked to hammer a piece of metal flat against the inner wall, Gabriella standing next to him, closely watching the work.
"Shouldn't we be focusing our efforts at the top of the wall?" she asked.
"Basic foundation needs work too. Top needs the bottom to hold it up, otherwise, there's no point to any of it."
"Yeah, I get that, but weren't you worried about something getting over it?"
This was, of course a valid concern. Unknown to Gabriella, not long before, several mice had somehow sneaked over the wall, and while he didn't disapprove of them doing so, it was still an issue in principle. A taller wall wouldn't have really helped in that case, but he didn't realize that.
"I was, but it can wait. It'll still be there tomorrow, and is no less secure than it was yesterday."
That was when the massive black shadow soared overhead, landing surprisingly softly on four paws, resuming it's sprint towards the large tower, the top of which was visibly crackling with magical energy.
"Huh..." the round faced woman said, staring. "Did you see that?"
Leonard paused for a moment, also staring, before shaking his head. "Nope."
The pair continued looking to the spot where apparently nothing had happened.
"Good. Neither did I." she said. Even if something did happen, it seemed to be the best sort of problem: Someone else's problem. The two returned their attention to the wall, which was always in need of improvement or repair. It was very dependable in that way.
The dark lord stopped not far from the tower, where several armored mice now gathered, their spears raised, staring straight at the large feline with terrified expressions.
Midnight smirked and said in a smug tone "Heh, this could be trouble. It's not my business, of course, but maybe if you ask really nicely I'll-"
"Hyah!" Jerin cried out, leaping from his back, directly into the fray.
"-um, help out... if you really want..."
Midnight winced at the many clangs, thumps of falling mice and general cries of pain.
"I'll... I'll just wait here." he said, meekly, his eyes wide, sitting upright, as he watched the carnage unfold before him.
<3~ <3~ <3~ <3~
Aaron let out a battle cry, swinging his club down in a strong vertical arc, only for it to be caught by the twin swords of the masked enemy. He really missed his hammer. It wasn't the most effective of weapons, in truth, mostly only good against fiends which were rarely much of a threat, and could be dispatched with nearly any variety of weapon. It was poor against mice, both for being overly slow and overly lethal, and proved poor against the dark lords as well, who, with their sheer size and toughness, proved quite resilient to impacts. Still, there was just something satisfying about swinging it down with all of your strength, hearing that heavy thud, and seeing the cloud of dirt fly up from the new hole in the earth that it had left in its wake.
He missed the hammer, but he had to admit that the club was considerably more effective. The hammer almost had a mind of its own, where once you began to swing it, it usually kept moving until it decided to stop, with any efforts to correct or adjust mid-swing coming at a significant cost to offensive power. This was by design, of course, and even part of its charm, but it also meant that if a strike happened to miss its mark, quickly following up with another attack wasn't really an option, and during that rather brief yet still far too long window, you would be wide open to counter attack. On the other hand, the club felt almost weightless without the stone head. The average mouse might still find it cumbersome, but compared to what he was used to fighting with, it might as well have just been a tiny plastic dagger in his paw. It was still quite long, and also still capable of hitting hard, that pleasant sort of hard where it could knock an opponent down and incapacitate them without necessarily reducing them to red paste. Still, it just wasn't the same.
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He swept the other side of the club upwards, trying to catch his opponent under the chin, who back-stepped out of the way, the larger mouse following up with a heavy two-handed swing, which was ducked under. As this happened, Aaron immediately stepped in to close the distance.
Dual wielding sounds way better in concept than it is in reality. In principle you would think that if one sword is good, an extra one must be twice as good, right? In truth, it doesn't tend to work out that way. For one thing, learning to use both hands with equal proficiency is very time consuming, time which is generally better spent trying to master the use of a single blade, and even if one does step over that hurdle, it is simply the first of many. It isn't the same as simply fighting with one sword, and also having an extra optional one. It is difficult to strike as hard with either, always needing to mind your balance, and while occasionally useful, the focus needed required to manage that extra weapon is just as often a distraction in the heat of battle.
Aaron couldn't help but smirk (no pun intended) at the other amateur mistake that his had opponent had made. Dual weapons can have their advantages. With their speed and general flourish, they can be difficult to guard against, and as much of a distraction as they can be be to the wielder, they are to the opponent as well. They work best with small weapons, however, to keep the opponent on guard and needing to defend against countless strikes coming from all directions at once. Everyone wants to try twin paired great swords or battle axes, and there's no question that they look incredibly intimidating, but you lose out on the speed advantage, and expend twice as much energy using them. In this case, Samuel's swords weren't heavy, but they they were overly long, and not all that effective at extra close range, with the small platform offering him little opportunity to keep his distance.
From his crouched position, the red clothed mouse stabbed upwards with both blades, the larger mouse barely deflecting them with the wooden shaft. Despite his current advantages, Aaron could tell his opponent was no weakling, and that this wouldn't be easy.
He looked over to Mathias, who was still trying to pull his great grandfather up onto the platform, and while it didn't seem as though he was losing his grip or at risk of falling himself, his progress was slow with little there to brace himself against. The larger mouse would need to handle this on his own. All the better, Aaron thought to himself.
This is nothing, he thought, as he sidestepped and parried the flurry of metal and wooden blades. The gleam of that sword might be intimidating, but it was nothing compared to the claws of a dark lord. Samuel may be quick, but these attacks were nothing compared to the speed of Theos' punches, and that hateful gleam in his eye was nowhere close to as horrifying as the sheer dread that he had felt upon staring into the empty sockets of the ruined mice within the tunnels of the Makers.
He continued to press the attack, staying especially focused on the metal blade in the right hand of the mouse, the wooden one, while not trivial, considerably less than a threat, his armor quite capable of guarding against it.
Samuel had yet to take a single hit, but still knew that he was on the verge of losing this fight. He was starting to tire, had trouble with positioning, and much of his life was spent practicing sorcery rather than swordsmanship. The fact that he had attained even this level of skill in spite of that was a testament to both his determination and natural talents, but still, he was no master swordsman. Highly skilled? Yes. Able to defeat the average mouse with relative ease? Also yes. He was not invincible, however, as was becoming abundantly clear. He had been led to believe that the sister was, by far, the superior fighter of the two, and had underestimated the larger mouse a result, figuring that even though she had won against him before, it was largely luck on her part and carelessness on his own. He has no such excuses this time, however. He was being pressed.
The red garbed mouse slashed at his opponent, to cover a wider range, unlike the thrusts which could be simply sidestepped, but even with this greater speed and coverage, his opponent still seemed to have little difficulty evading the strikes and stepping into his guard. Samuel found himself growing frustrated, but he had good reason. The larger mouse showed no signs of tiring and had an obvious strength advantage, whereas he found himself rapidly running out of stamina. Samuel growled, back-stepping, and thrusting both blades forward simultaneously towards the unarmored chest of Aaron. One was knocked to each side, effortlessly, the larger mouse crouching in low between them, slamming the butt of the club hard into the stomach of the masked mouse.
Samuel coughed, stumbling backwards, careful not to drop his swords. He looked back over his shoulder at the stone ledge, the shaded grounds below, and the tiny armored mice running about.
"You ready to tell me where my sister is? Don't get me wrong, I'll be happy to beat you up some more if I need to, but my schedule today is pretty full."
Smirk glared at him, grinding his teeth, the other half of his face still the twisted smile, the other eye scarred shut. Then he chuckled to himself between panting breaths. "You never learn do you?" he said.
"Oh? And what should I learn?"
"To be mindful of your environment, of course." He said, turning to his left, his eye on Mathias and Rowan as he raised his blades. Mathias looked back, eyes wide, but moving in any direction was not an option.
The storm surged towards them, the electrified wind fanning out in all directions. With little to hold onto, and right against the ledge, all Mathias could do is crouch down, brace himself and hope for the best. Instead, he barely felt it, a slight shock, enough breeze to blow his fur around, but nowhere close to the painful torrent which he had experienced earlier.
Taking the full brunt of the spell really hurt, but it was nothing that Aaron couldn't handle. He barely had time to leap in front of his comrades and try to guard himself, but unfortunately, he knew that that wasn't the end of it. He had to force himself to open his eyes, even as the arcing electricity flowed over him, ready to guard against the attack which he knew was coming. Two swords thrusted directly towards him, one high, one low, and he could only deflect one with his weapon. In that brief moment, his eyes focused on the right hand of his enemy, the sword aiming for his side, and with a bump of his club, he cast it away, leaving it thrusting into the empty air. The large mouse leaned his right side forward to guard against the second strike with his pauldron.
He knew that he had made a mistake right away. This was why he hated fighting ambidextrous opponents. He should have known Samuel was going to switch his sword hands in the confusion of the spell, and now it was the wooden sword that was harmlessly deflected to the side. The wooden armor plate did nothing to guard against the metal blade, as Jerin's sword was driven straight through it, deep into his shoulder.
"Aaron!" Mathias called, and cursed to himself, knowing there was no way that he'd be able to pull Rowan up within the next few seconds, and anytime after that would clearly be too late.
It really is a nice sword, Aaron thought to himself, as he fell onto one knee, his right arm suddenly too weak to hold the large club which clattered to the wooden floor at his side. His left arm tried to grip the smooth metal, but every slight touch of it sent ripples of pain throughout his entire body.
Samuel looked down at him triumphantly, but that triumph proved to be short lived. His expression quickly shifted from sadistic glee to shock as he leapt backwards, pulling the sword from the larger mouse's shoulder, only seeing a dark shadow leap into the air, and finding himself overcome the instinctive sense of terrible danger. That instinct was proven correct, as something slammed down onto the platform with terrible force, raising a choking cloud of dust as the wooden surface cracked, the right side of it drifting away and falling, forcing a full third of the stone tower to crumble away along with it.
Aaron fell backwards, thankfully not quite going over the edge, the flat surface now considerably smaller than it once was, even if the near destruction of the entire structure did leave the surface of the peak significantly more level than it was before. Samuel coughed, shielding his eye as the dust finally dissipated. A blade was lifted from the platform, dirt and debris crumbling from it as it was raised. It was implausibly long, absurdly long, a wicked sharp edge, nearly as thick at the base as a small mouse was wide, ending in a huge red plastic loop which a similarly small mouse could easily fit their entire waist within, with a single small hole which had once held a metal screw poking through the blade near the point where it had met the handle.
Jerin grinned, hoisting it up, laying it back at a severe angle (the only real way that it could be held), over one shoulder. Samuel couldn't help but notice that her other hand was casually rested upon her hip. She had lifted that ridiculous weapon, which was three times her height in length, one handed, seemingly without any effort at all.
Smirk stared at his new opponent, and at the destruction that she had so effortlessly wrought. She looked back to him with a confident expression, still unclothed, still missing her tail, her white fur now covered in grey dust, but clearly ready, downright eager for a fight. Fortunately, he had a backup plan in mind, for just such an occasion. He pointed his twin swords out in front of him, directly at the small girl. Finally, he revealed the last trick up his sleeve.
"I give up!" he said, dropping the paired swords to the ground.
Jerin let out a surprised squeak, nearly falling over from surprise, and turned to her brother and stammered "Can-can he do that?"
A few minutes later, Jerin giggled, giving a full body twirl.
"It really does look nice on you. I'm surprised that it fits so well!" Mathias said. looking her up and down.
Samuel meanwhile simply stood there, arms folded looking very much annoyed at the young mouse who was now wearing his expensive clothing. Even he couldn't honestly really claim that it was unfair, however. Still, that didn't mean that he had to be happy about it.
"Heh, yeah, looking good, Jerin." Aaron said, still seated.
"It is very fine craftsmanship. I must say that red is very much your color. It suits a swordswoman much better than it does a sorcerer." Rowan nodded.
She stepped over to retrieve her tail from the ground, picked it up and glared at the now naked mouse.
"What did you do to my tail? It smells all funny!"
"I washed it!" Samuel grumbled. "That thing was disgusting! Have you ever cleaned it before?"
Jerin squinted, eyeing him suspiciously, before tying it back to her natural tail stub. It didn't feel quite right, but she was still relieved to have it back.
"Oh yeah, that reminds me!" she said to Mathias, as she tossed him the white mask. "Here!"
"Hey thanks!" the dark knight said, trying it on. Then he tried again. And again. It simply wouldn't fit comfortably to his face, at least not in a way that felt natural. "Huh? What's with this thing? It only has one eye-hole!"
"Well, yeah. I've only got one eye." Samuel replied.
"Plus, it's all off center!"
"You don't wear it straight over your nose, it goes to one side!"
"This thing is stupid."
"Can I have it back then?" Samuel asked.
Mathias hummed and looked down at the item. "Ummm... no. I'm still keeping it."
Samuel blinked and walked back to the tower steps, softly grumbling, "I didn't want it anyways."
As the naked mouse passed Rowan, the old sorcerer gave him a courteous nod. Samuel considered saying something, but really, there was nothing left to say, and he didn't even have the fight left in him for a verbal battle. Meeting the gaze of the old mouse, he instead simply passed him by, not offering so much as a rude gesture, before vanishing down the stone stairwell.
"So, uh... we've got a bunch of questions. I guess that thing would be a good place to start." Mathias said, pointing at the shiny plastic handle of the blade which poked out past Jerin's shoulder..
"Oh, this? It's called a 'scissors' apparently! There's another one too. I considered taking it along, but I figured it might be a bit much." she said, looking back down to the floor to pick up her old sword. It was the only weapon sitting there, Smirk apparently having retrieved his own wooden blade while the group were distracted. Jerin didn't particularly mind, however. The clothing alone was a more than acceptable prize.
"Heh, looks like they fixed it after all."
"Yeah. We'll have to thank the king in person for that shortly." Mathias said. He looked down in surprise as Jerin gripped the tip of the blade, holding the handle out towards him. "Huh? What are you doing?"
"Take it. I've got a nice new sword, and don't need two Maker's artifacts. Plus, you're a dark knight, right? Doesn't seem right for you to just be using just a short sword, does it?" she smiled.
"I-"
"Oh, and don't tell that me you can't. You lost your bow fighting, and while the needle has served me well, I just don't need it anymore. Someone should use it though, right? It's too important to just cast aside. It's a hero's weapon, and it only seems fitting that you carry it."
"I-I don't know what to say."
"Heh, typical." Aaron chuckled from his seated position. "Didn't even think of giving it to your own flesh and blood, huh? I swear, I'm so unappreciated."
"Oh, I'm sorry I just thought that-" Jerin said, stopping as an expression of sheer horror covered the face of the young mouse, the color (or lack thereof) completely draining from it.
"Hey, I'm just kidding! I prefer heavy weapons anyways." Aaron said, looking concerned. "What's wrong."
"You- you're hurt!" she said, her voice high pitched even by her standards, and bordering on panicked, as she hopped over to him, the edge of her massive blade dragging against the wood behind her. Her eyes were locked on Aaron's paw which covered his now unarmored shoulder.
"Don't worry." he said. "It stings, but he didn't get me too deep. I'll be fine, see?" Aaron removed his hand, revealing the small round wound, the brown fur beneath it ringed with red.
She did, indeed see it, albeit very briefly before everything went hazy. The voices of her allies faintly echoed in her ears as she fell backwards, and the small mouse girl fainted.