The eyes were huge, menacing and bestial. They would have been downright terrifying were both of them pointed in the same direction. The head that they were attached to was also strangely small. Still massive by the standards of any one of us, of course, it belonged to a dark lord after all, and even the tiniest among them would tower over the greatest of mice. I couldn't say that this was, in fact, the tiniest among them, but if it were, that wouldn't have shocked me. The fact that the caped mouse riding upon his back was able to straddle its legs around the neck of the orange furred beast without difficulty was evidence enough of its small stature.

That was, of course, the other strange thing. Sure, it might have been small, but it wasn't so small that it could have been feasibly overpowered by the rider, and it wore no hints of restraint of any kind. Had it desired to throw the rodent from its back, it clearly could have done so at any time. I could only surmise that It didn't desire to do so. Upon closer examination, it was difficult to determine what such a creature even would desire. Aside from the fact that the eyes seemed to function independently of one another, they held scarcely a hint of the superior intelligence and cruel cunning that such monsters were known for. The eyes might have shined within the relative gloom of the reeds, but on closer examination they were dull and muddy. Not blind, at least I don't think so, but if the eyes truly were the windows to the soul, these ones could have used a thorough cleaning.

The creature looked about as non-threatening as a soulless killer of mice possibly could. Its striped fur was clean and puffed out, leading one to think that it was likely somehow even smaller underneath it. Its paws were large and its face bore a light, even if somewhat 'off' smile. A single fang poked from the corner of its mouth, curled against the lower lip, looking less than intimidating despite being a famed tool of rodent destruction. Its furred chin was wet with drool.

As for the rider, she certainly didn't look like some mighty beast master. Were it not for the unusual mount, one could have easily taken her for a common scavenger, her filthy cape lined with assorted pockets and loops, all misshapen and clearly improvised after the fact. These all held bits of metal, glass and anything else which she had stumbled upon and considered to be worth keeping. I was no scavenger myself, but none of it, so far as I was concerned, looked to be worth keeping. Her hands and feet were wrapped in thin, white cloth to protect from the elements, but she appeared to be unable to resist using said wrappings to hold still more pieces of collectible garbage. The base of her clothing was made up of a dress of brown fabric, little more than a tattered bit of cloth wrapped around her body and cinched at the waist with an improvised belt of plastic cord.

Her face was rather common, neither cold and battle hardened or soft, with more wrappings set around her ears and just over the eyes. Still more trinkets dangled from these wrappings, albeit significantly smaller ones. The look of intelligence missing from the feline was readily apparent on the mouse, however, even if this might have just been a product of the dramatic comparison. She looked to the group, long wooden spear in her hand, a soft smile on her face, and wearing an expression of extreme confidence as her free paw gently kneaded and massaged the thick furred neck of her mount.

"You. Food. Hand it over. Now." she said, her happy inflection not quite matching the implied threat.

As for Samson, he had backed up a step, standing in front of the still prone bard. He glowered at the strange attacker, gripping his blade tightly, but made no move to strike. He had deflected the first attack, but it was clearly a strong one, and the rider had an obvious reach advantage, and that was not even counting the obvious threat posed by the dark lord which she rode upon. He wasn't retreating, but clearly cautious, well aware that he might not be so fortunate the next time she attacked.

"We have a fair bit of extra food." Jebediah said, stepping forward, speaking in his usual frustratingly calm tone. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to spare a little."

"Are you kidding?" Samson growled over his shoulder, his wooden sword still pointed towards the strange pair. "She's a bandit! If we give in to the threat, she'll not give up until she takes everything that we have!"

"Don't be ridiculous!" The newcomer said. "I couldn't possibly carry that much. I'll bet Augustus here could, though..." The round face of the cat turned to look up at its rider, smiling a little wider, letting out a soft, unmenacing sounding mewl. The mouse atop its back turned back to Jeb. "Do you think that you and those friends of yours could help fashion some sort of rig to hold it? It wouldn't need to be anything too complicated, really just some ropes and sacks that could drape over my friend's back. That would be way more convenient that me needing to carry it all in my hands, after all."

"Hmmm, I can see where you're coming from, but I'm afraid that we lack an abundance of crafting supplies. Bertrand?" the farmer asked me.

I froze for a moment before finally answering. As much as I questioned the logic of the situation, I needed to remind myself that I was only here to document and maybe help out a little. If the group wished to take a misguided approach to an issue, that was their business, and it could well lead to a more interesting tale. The rider looked skilled enough, even if she was clearly not even close to a match for a group of this size. Still, that creature which was ridden by her was a problem. Dark lords were named that for a reason, and it wasn't because they were weak or non-threatening. No matter how small the striped orange feline may have been compared to other lords of darkness, it was still much larger and stronger than ourselves, and that's not even considering the host of other terrifying powers that such creatures were known to possess. Maybe compliance wasn't the worst idea, after all. "I guess if we really needed to, perhaps we could improvise some sort of harness using the cut reeds? They're strong and flexible, so they shouldn't snap, even under a significant weight."

As for the cultists, they had their weapons drawn but were very much reluctant to approach. While their training had been going quite well (say what you will about religious fanaticism, the fear of divine retribution makes for hard workers), they were still a long ways from being veteran soldiers, much less dark lord hunters. I would normally have expected Meryll to leap into action at the prospect of battle, but she was instead more concerned with the fallen bard, even though she had appeared to be unharmed. The flock was, predictably, keeping their distance. They'd had more than enough experience with dark lords to know to be cautious.

"Ooh, that sounds nice! I'll bet the color will go great with his fur, too!" The rider chirped excitedly. "Let's get started!"

"No, no, we're not starting anything." Samson growled. It was rather unclear whether he was angry at her or the rest of us. I'd say that both were about equally likely. "We're not giving all of our supplies to some robber."

"Yes, you're right. That would probably be a poor idea." Jeb nodded his head. "After all, what if we were to run into another robber later? We'd have nothing left to offer them, and they would be forced to go hungry."

"That's not... you know what, fine. Whatever works." The one-eyed mouse said, looking back to the spear wielding mouse. "As for you, we're not giving you anything. If you want our food, you'll have to take it yourself."

"Fair enough. A one-on-one duel. Whoever wins, gets all of the food." the bandit said.

"Why should we fight you one-on-one? And how is that fair? You're the one who picked the fight, but we're the ones who have to offer up the prize. You get everything if you win, and we get nothing if we do!"

"Is he always like this?" the woman sighed, looking over at Jeb who simply shrugged in response. "Anyways, there's only one of me! It would be super unfair for all of you to gang up on a single, helpless mouse!" she replied to Samson.

"She has a point. For our entire force to bear down on a single mouse would be terribly dishonorable." Meryll nodded, helping Annabelle up onto her feet. She made no move to draw her blade, or more accurately, any of her blades. I was rather surprised, as she seemed the sort to be always itching for a fight, but I guess she figured that Smirk had 'dibs' on it.

As for the one-eyed mouse, it was readily apparent that he had objections. Perhaps so many different objections that he didn't even know which ones to state first. He also seemed to realize that none of them, no matter how obviously valid, would get him anywhere. He glared angrily at the rider. "Fine. I'll take you on. But what about... that?" he asked, pointing the tip of his wooden sword towards the diminutive feline. The cat appeared to take no offense at having a weapon pointed its way, hardly even noticing, instead regularly looking about its surroundings, entirely oblivious to the rising tensions.

"You mean 'him'. He is Augustus, my best friend and brave comrade! He won't hurt you. I'm the one you need to worry about." she gave her long, wooden spear a twirl, pointing the jagged stone head towards Samson. "As for me, I am Tanzra, mistress of the concrete jungle, and I will show you no mercy!"

Samson watched her for a moment and sighed. "Aren't you at least going to get down from there to fight?"

"Of course not! If I did, Augustus might wander off and get lost." she smiled down at the cat. "Aww, and we couldn't have that, could we, my sweet, sweet baby?" she chirred, aggressively fluffing a pointed ear, which was answered with a closing of the asymmetrical eyes, and a deep, rhythmic purring.

Smirk naturally had further arguments to make. He always had further arguments to make, but by now he had a lifetime of experience in dealing with thoroughly unreasonable mice, and realizing that the world was just not a fair place. Simply being right wasn't always good enough. In fact, from his general experience, it very rarely was. In spite of all of this, he wasn't without confidence, either. Sure, this 'Tanzra' person might have had the advantage when it came to reach and leverage, but she was still just a single, ordinary mouse, and as for him? Well, while I know little of the circumstances of his past defeats, I did know enough about him to know that his skills were quite exceptional.

Generally speaking, a contest against a random individual is a numbers game. Whatever that contest might be, the other person should be statistically average at it. Quite possibly a little above or a little below, but the further you wander from those levels, the less likely it becomes. A mouse with a powerful upper body won't hesitate to accept a random challenge to an arm wrestling match because, sure, while there's always the chance that the opponent might be some legendary prodigy who outclasses them in every way, it's statistically unlikely.

Of course, once again, these were only averages, and Samuel here was not exactly an optimist. He was not afraid to accept the challenge, but he wasn't being careless, either. He'd had too many dealings with legendary heroes and other exceptional warriors who popped up out of nowhere to take any random opponent lightly.

Tanzra struck first, as was to be expected. Spears were very good for that, after all. They really should have been a more popular weapon, but would-be adventurers, traditionally, just thought that swords were cooler. The thrust was quick and right on target, yet still effortlessly sidestepped by the swordsman, but the reach advantage was more than enough to give her several more tries while he was still out of range. Most were dodged outright, while another pair were pushed aside by his own wooden weapon. Samson found himself unable to get much closer, but this wasn't unexpected, and he showed no signs of frustration, and instead used his position to his advantage, circling to her side.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

Mounted combat has a lot of advantages. The biggest, of course, is that is allows for a nearly unstoppable charge, but beyond that, with a long weapon, it allows you to strike from afar and not be so easily stuck back. What it doesn't offer, ironically, is mobility. At least not so much in tight quarters. If you need to get to the other end of a field, having something to ride would be wonderful, and is sadly an opportunity that mice very rarely get to appreciate. As for evading or circling in place, it's significantly slower, needing to command your own beast and relying on their reaction time, all the while guarding ones self.

The robber tried her best to maintain her seated position, but it proved to be impossible. Samson was soon completely behind the cat, who appeared to be paying very little attention to the duel happening around him, instead looking up at a nearby butterfly. The one-eyed mouse hoped that his opponent would simply abandon her mount and take to the ground where she would have far greater mobility, at the cost of leverage. He was disappointed when she refused to do so, instead standing up upon its back and turning to match the movements of her foe, showing no difficulty in balancing atop the furred creature, even with its constant, subtle movements.

This dance continued for some time, at which point Samson finally begin to grow irritated with his lack of progress. Tanzra struck with a series of quick, repeated jabs, but never overextended herself. She never devoted herself to a particularly powerful attack which could skewer a mouse with a single stab, but at the same time, could also be deflected and offer a clear opening to the swordsman. That was when he had decided to try a new approach.

It has been well documented that his magic was rather ineffective. As much as he would have loved to be able to hurl a bolt of lightning her way, knocking her from the beast, that was clearly impossible. Even causing more than mild discomfort was highly unlikely, not even enough to properly stun an opponent to create a solid opening. Still, he had little to lose from trying. He leapt backwards, lowering his sword to his side, and thrust his open palm out towards the enemy. This resulted in a moderate wind, with barely visible hints of golden streaks of energy dancing within it. This certainly caught the spear wielding mouse by surprise, even if it failed to make her drop her guard.

It did have a few unexpected side effects, however, which happened one after the other.

First, the torrents of energy don't only strike the mouse, but the dark lord as well. It naturally did even less damage to him than it had to her, but the sudden bolt of electricity did make the fur of both creatures stand on end. To a short furred mouse, this, at worst, makes them look a little bit silly, but a cat, naturally, had a much longer and thicker coat. This was especially a problem for the robber who just happened to be standing atop his back. While the spell didn't sway her in the slightest, she did find herself having trouble maintaining her footing as a veritable forest of orange fur suddenly rose up all around her. She was a skilled fighter, with exceptional balance, and she only stumbled for a moment. Still, that moment was all that was required for her opponent to move into striking range.

This, naturally, lead to the other unexpected side effect. It was unclear exactly why Samson had taken the word of the robber that the dark lord wouldn't join into the fight at face value. Perhaps he was just tired of arguing. Up to this point, similarly, it had done very little beyond occasionally turn and sway its large body a bit. It had reached the point where the one-eyed mouse had almost forgotten that it was, in fact, a living creature, and very much a dangerous one. That spell of his might not have caused it any real pain, but it certainly did earn its attention, as it turned abruptly, swatting him with its long, furred tail.

It was far from a lethal blow, but still more than enough to send him sprawling, tumbling through the cut reeds, only to roll onto his back, prepared to hop up to his feet, only to see those huge, brown eyes taking up the entirety of his view. He froze, sword in hand at his side, only able to stare at the dark lord as opened its mouth, revealing wickedly sharp fangs, drew in closer and closer to him before finally giving his entire body a long, slow, wet lick.

"Aww, good boy, Auggie! You're so cute!" Tanzra chirped, falling onto the back of the dark lord to hug it's neck and nuzzle her face against the orange fluff of his ears. "Eep!" she then said, if that really qualified as saying anything, as she looked to her left, and the point of the wooden sword that was set at her throat. Samson half sat upright, propped up by an elbow, his fur and clothing completely soaked. His free arm was raised, however, blade in hand, alongside the head of the still unconcerned dark lord, and very much ready to strike a lethal blow against the other mouse.

The two, well, three, really, were frozen in place. As much as Smirk would have liked to claim that he had the obvious advantage, he knew that this wasn't entirely true. The head of the dark lord, and more significantly the mouth of it, was still right in front of his face, and was clearly capable of doing far more than just licking, as unpleasant as that might have been for the one-eyed swordsman.

This stalemate continued for a few agonizing seconds before Tanzra dropped her spear. "Whelp, guess I lose." she said, sounding surprisingly chipper, given the circumstances, before turning to Jebediah and the other stunned onlookers. "So, um, could we please have some food? We're starving!" she added with a gentle smile. As for Augustus, he nodded in agreement, giving Smirk one last unwelcome tongue-bath before he padded away from the apparently victorious mouse.

"Are you crazy?" Samson said, rising to his feet and doing his best to smooth out his ruffled fur. "Why would we give you anything?"

"Because I asked nicely!"

"You tried to rob us!"

"Yeah, and that didn't work, so now I'm asking nicely." Tanzra huffed, as though what she was doing was, in fact, common sense. "I couldn't do it the other way around, ask politely and then rob you. That would be rude! Okay, maybe it would be a little more justified, especially if you were really mean with your refusal, but still I prefer this approach. I fight, and if I lose and still live, well, that means you're merciful, which also probably means generous!"

"I can see the logic in that." Sellas finally spoke up. While pretty much all of the others were watching the battle with expressions of shock or anxiety (well, aside from Annabelle, who had no idea there was a fight going on, and it was questionable if she really truly understood what, exactly, a 'fight' was. Then there was also Dave, who, as usual, wore no expression whatsoever), she had borne a calm, studious expression all the while. "Furthermore, both charity and forgiveness are core pillars of the Starman faith."

"Exactly! The Star-whatever says so!" she rider smiled. "It tends to be easier to get forgiveness than permission. I get fed, and you all get to feel good about yourselves. Everyone wins!"

"You're not getting any food." Smirk grumbled.

"Oh, come on. Okay, you're a little mad at me, I get it, what with the whole attempted murder and all that. Trust me, I've been there! And if it were just me, I wouldn't blame you for turning me away, but what about Augustus here? Keeping both him and me fed is really hard! And he likes you! How can you say 'no' to this sweet, sweet face?" she asked, lying across the top of the cats head, reaching her paws down to rub the fluffy cheeks of the dark lord, which in turn raises them into an oversized smile, one which she did her very best to match.

"It is the duty of a hero to aid a damsel in distress." Meryll finally spoke up. "Clearly, this young lass is a valiant warrior, having tamed a mighty dark lord, just like the brave hero Jerin had once done. Also, she has lovely fur and just look at that tail!"

"Thank you! I put a lot of effort into self care!" Tanzra grinned to the warrior. While I did question Meryll's priorities, she wasn't exactly wrong. For someone who clearly made the habit of digging through trash on the regular, her grey fur had a nice gloss to it, and her tail was soft and smooth. Perhaps she'd found some manner of cleaning or moisturizing substance in her explorations? A shame that her clothing didn't match it. "But as for Augustus, he's not tamed. He's my friend!"

"Wait, is there a dark lord here?" Annabelle perked up her eyes, strangely excited by the prospect.

"We did bring a lot of rations, and I would hate to see someone have to go hungry." Jebediah said up,, "I'm sure we can spare some. Still, we need to make sure that we have enough for the journey ahead to the mouse city."

Tanzra blinked. "What, do you mean 'Home Base'? Is that where you're going?"

A brief silence followed. "Um... maybe? Apparently there is a huge mouse city this way, filled with powerful fighters... maybe?" Jeb said once again. Admittedly, the entire basis of this journey had been rather sketchy. "It's unclear just how far away it is, however."

Sellas nodded. Apparently her divinations had inspired her as to the general direction of our goal, but little else.

"Oh, it's certainly big, and definitely full of strong mice, but I'm not sure it's the sort of place you want to go to. I was there not long ago, and asked them for some food, and they were incredibly rude!" Tanzra said with a nod.

"Did you 'ask' for it, or did you try to rob them?" Samson asked her, having a pretty good idea as to how she would respond.

"Both, of course!" the grey rider grinned, before turning back to the farmer. "As for the city, I've got no idea why you'd want to go there, but hey, that's your business. Give me and Auggie here a good meal, and I'd be happy to show you the way. It's not that far from here. We can even show you a shortcut through the reeds."

Jeb looked up towards the reddening sky, the air growing colder as the sun had just begun to set. "That would be rather helpful, and we are just about due to set up camp for the evening, anyways."

"Perfect! Follow me!" the scavenger mouse said, even if she barely moved herself, instead setting herself into a seated position atop Augustus, giving his side a little nudge with a wrapped foot. He mewed contently, turned about and lead the way. The others, most of us still experiencing varying states of confusion and suspicion, followed.

The mouse did prove true to her word when it came to the shortcut through the reeds. A little more cutting was required (the small cat was simply powerful enough to push them aside), but in less than an hour, the impenetrable forest steadily began to thin and the army found itself standing atop a great, grass hill, looking down upon the unnatural landmass below.

Even though the sky was entirely dark at this point, the region below was brightly lit by several Maker''s devices, towering metal posts which shined downwards onto the field. It was partially surrounded by great, metal fencing along once side, and a number of elevated wooden benches at the other, all framed around a massive, white diamond painted into a bared patch of earth, further surrounded by a vast field of short, green grass. All at once, everyone had realized that we had arrived at our destination. Such a majestic structure could only have been the mouse fortress. Each and every mouse, even the most cynical among us, stared down at it with wonder filled eyes. Just the piercing light alone in the darkness of night was enough to inspire awe.

Jebediah stepped forward, only to be blocked by the spear shaft of our new guide. "No. Don't approach until morning."

"Why not? We've come all this way, and it seems a shame to stop when we're so close."

Tanzra took on an uncharacteristically serious expression. "You'll see."

And see we did.

Our theory was validated. This was clearly the mouse city that we had been searching for. It was a place filled with powerful, warrior mice. At each point of the massive diamond was a single large square of seemingly padded material. Simultaneously, the diamond at both left and right slid away, and two groups of mice appeared. From this distance, it was difficult to make out the details, but both were garbed in vibrant colors, one side dressed in red and the other blue, as each rushed towards the large dirt mound at the center of the great monument.

These were powerful mouse warriors, indeed. The problem was that they were fighting one another. Each side gathered, some distance apart, and at first there was only silence. Then the first salvo of magical missiles was fired by the red side, only to be met and countered by the blue, the new projectiles of seemingly fewer number but of a more radiant intensity. From that point, there was no taking turns, it was pure chaos as projectiles were launched back and forth, and the air rang with the clashing of impacts, along with cries of both triumph and agony alike. This continued for several minutes until, as suddenly as it had began, it ended, each side withdrawing to their own miniature diamond, retreating within, dragging their wounded (hopefully only wounded, it was difficult to tell from this vantage point) behind them and sealing the openings once more.

All of us stood silent, uncertain of what we had just witnessed. The greater diamond which had been a bloody battleground just moments ago had once more fallen into complete silence.

"Anyways, I'm starved." Tanzra smiled to the group. "What's for dinner?"

As for Augustus, he happily waved his tail and mewled in agreement.