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Cap'n Tramun Clogg was an immensely fat stoat. He fidgeted with his cooked salmon indoors, whilst his crew fought against
the weather outside. After a while Tramun sighed and opened the door. Rats, ferrets, stoats and weasels were running about
with buckets, emptying water from the ship whilst the skies darkened even more as the weather got worse. Tramun had to shout
loudly to be heard above the din.
"Ahoy, Gruzzle, 'ow's the ship, matey?" he yelled. A thin rat turned around to his Captain. He emptied a bucket
overboard as he answered the question.
"Ain't no weather 'ere that'll stop us corsairs, Cap'n!" he said, saluting.
Tramun nodded looked up at Boggs, the lookout, who was soaked through and through. The crows nest was nearly filled with
water that leaked down on to the deck below.
"Any sign o' Badrang or 'is ship, mate?" he called. Boggs turned around.
"No, Cap'n." he answered, shivering in the cold. Sighing, Tramun went back inside.
Boggs looked away from the far water to check what was near. His eyes suddenly widened.
"Rock ahoy! Turn the ship 'round! Rock ahoy!" he shouted. Corsairs suddenly stopped what they were doing as
the bosun tried frantically to turn the ship.
"Aaaahhhh!" came a scream from below deck as the rock hit the lower right side of the ship.
"We've 'it the rock! We're sinkin'!" yelled Gruzzle.
Everybeast had felt the vibration of the accident, including Clogg. His cloggs make clicking noises as he ran downstairs
into the lower decks. Rats and a few ferrets were trying to stem the inceasing flow of water that poured in through a hole.
A rat yelped as he heard more wood splintering.
Gruzzle ran down to the lower midship to see the progress of the leak. It was almost knee deep. Clogg was helping, trying
to stem the flow, to no avail.
"'Elp, me buckoes, or we'll never get ter taste damson wine agin!" yelled Clogg. Corsairs scurried from downstairs
to help. Gruzzle stood still, brainstorming. Clogg was working with furious energy. He stopped, noting the still standing
form of Gruzzle. He winked, despite the urgenct of the situation.
"I knows that look, Gruzzle. Wot are ye thinkin'?" he asked. Gruzzle grinned suddenly, a sure sign a salution
was found.
"Everybeast, git the big dinin' table from the mess room!" Gruzzle shouted. The corsairs grunted, ignoring him.
Suddenly Tramun was among them, cuffing ears and booting tails.
"Yew 'eard Gruzzle! Git going!" he roared, drawing his cutlass. The corsairs hurried to obey. Soon the large
dining table was in place against the hole, blocking the water. More boards were placed to secure it whilst some other corsairs
emptied the water.
Captain Tramun Josiah Cuttlefish Clogg stood out on the deck next to Gruzzle. He clasped his hand to the rat's back.
"Ye did good, Gruzzle. Ye did good. Now we'll live ter see another day an' feel the waves 'neath our paws. An', o'
course, find an' slay Badrang." the stoat said. And it was to be that they would, soon, find Badrang. The corsair boat
went swiftly towards the land not yet in vision. Soon they would be in sigh of the land---but that's another story.
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Ripface the weasel knew it would be a fight to the death. Grabbing his cutlass, he licked the blade, growling at the
stoat who dared to oppose him. The soldiers of Gurrat Nimm's horde formed a circle, supporters of both beasts yelling out
bets. The stoat, Terragor, moved his dagger from left to right, then made a cutting movement. The crowd erupted in cheers.
Ripface made his move! He charged, sand flying underpaw as he bulled towards his surprised opponent.
Terragor was an experienced footfighter. Sidestepped neatly, he tripped Ripface and stabbed downwards with his trusty
dagger. But Ripface had rolled aside. He grabbed a pawfull of sand and threw it at Terragor. Temporarily blinded, Terragor
swished wildly with his blade. One swipe grazed Ripface's shoulder, and a cry arose from the onlookers.
Ripface parried off Terragor's dagger with his own blade, whilst neatly kicking out with his footpaw, catching the burly
stoat in the stomach. Winded, Terragor fell. Ripface leapt up, his dagger at Terragor's throat. Knowing he had lost, Terragor
began to beg.
"Matey, I was only foolin' wid yer, yer the boss, y'know! Eh, matey?" he whined. His face froze in agony
as Ripface drove his dagger through the stoats heart. Blood poured out slowly, ever so slowly...
Ripface turned his back away from the dying stoat. He sat down next to some grass and cleaned his blade, watching the
stoat die. In a minute Terragor gave one final whimper and lay still. The crowd burst into cheers with a mix of agonized yells.
Thus was the standard of horde life. Violent.
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