A few moments since the last chapter...

The beastmen plains, Outside the walls of Rattholme

 

Rattholme existed for a simple reason, it was a larder for the larger beastmen clans living in the swamp. The rodents were always the first ones in a pack to be eaten when there was a food shortage. This city was also only able to exist due to it being between 2 larger cities that were held by beast kings. Several hundred miles to the northwest was Scale city, it was ruled by the Crocodile Beast King. They were one of the strongest beastmen clans in the area. To the east of Rattholme was the Falcon Beast King, and he was one of the greatest enemies of the mousemen, he ruled from Feather City. To the southwest had been Savage city, and the port was far to the south of them.

 

Rattholme was one of the largest cities of rodents, but it still only had a small percentage of them. Over 10,000 of them made this flaming city their home, as it was being besieged by over 5000 elves. Normally you needed 3 times the number of attackers for a successful siege, but the elves weren't trying to take the city over. They had no use for the rodents in the city, they were planning to burn them into ashes. The elves had always seen the ratmen and mousemen, as filthy creatures that were only worthy of extermination.

 

Most of the houses were made of woven sticks, they also had thatch roofs. The city was protected by a wall that was made of branches, woven together to form a giant beaver's dam. The entire city and wall were vulnerable to fire, and that is what the elves had been using to kill the rodents in the city. There wasn't a gate, instead, they had multiple ways into the city using small tunnels carved through the dam-like wall.

 

A thick heavy gray smoke was obscuring the front of the elven lines, it was where their archers and casters had stood. The smoke was thick and cloying. It had a fruity scent to it that was like lemons and oranges, but this was very deceptive. This thick smoke carried a deadly neurotoxin that the rodents were fortunate enough to have a strong resistance to.

 

Within this smoke were 4 mousemen working as a team, they were lead by the mouseman Arno. Arno had been selected to be Greko's Enforcer, this was a position in the pack that served to execute the will of its leader, it was similar to a general.

 

In Arno's short arms was a gun that looked like a revolver with a massive drum and a large barrel. Arno was crouched over, with the drum on the gun in the open position. A large pouch at his stomach was filled with spare ammunition for this grenade launcher. The gun held 6 grenades, and after the chamber was filled, Arno spun it using his small hands. This spin produced a loud click with each rotation, this was how it was actuated.

 

Arno had his black trench coat pulled over his body, as he hid in the thick fog. Inside of the polymer layers were small sheets of steel riveted together. Several arrows had been fired carelessly into the smoke and bounced off his coat. The mask over Arno's face held lenses that corrected his poor sight and kept the smoke out of his eyes. It left his nose exposed, as he sniffed at the air searching for the locations of the catapults. What he was smelling for was the oil that they had enchanted.

 

“There ya are!” He said as he used both hands to hold the grip of his grenade launcher.

 

Greko had experienced the horror that was being bombed at all hours, and moments of the day. This lead to a discipline that he had firmly instilled into these mousemen that served under him.

 

“The smoke is our salvation!” Arno yelled. “Cheese! And! Beer!”

 

Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! Click!

 

Arno unloaded the entire drum of grenades in the direction of the catapults, the goal wasn't to hit any of them in particular. Arno was putting down cover for his brothers who were wielding shotguns. They were hunting the elves like sharks in the water. All of their equipment had been carefully designed for them by the Supreme Cheese. It perfectly leveled the gap in power between the two sides.

 

Arno immediately stowed his gun to his side and dropped to all fours. Their coats all possessed armored hoods for when they ran. They acted like a turtle shell for the mousemen to hide in after they stirred up the elves. He began running quickly, arrows began pelting his trench coat, but they didn't find any weak points. Magic was hard to use as it required a visual target, the exception was large range spells like explosive fireballs, but they were easy to avoid in the smoke.

 

-

 

Outside of the smoke, the elves were panicking when they saw the state of their archers and mages. They had been treating this as a turkey shoot; when suddenly thick smoke began pouring out of silver canisters, that flew over the walls and into their formations. The smoke was cloying and burned the eyes, but the elves immediately realized the horrors hidden in it when they saw the state of the archers and mages who came out of it.

 

“Get out of the smoke! It's poisonous!” One of the elven soldiers yelled out.

 

The smoke was spreading quickly, and it seemed to just pool over the swampy ground. The catapults that had been firing oil into the city stopped the bombardment, as the smoke began to spread, there were 12 of the catapults in total. The 5000 elves had to spread out their numbers to surround the city, they were using fire to keep the mousemen trapped behind the walls of their settlement.

 

The fire weapons were a product of the elven alchemical workshops, it was a type of oil infused with mana through a special process. It would burn for several days at a high temperature until the mana was fully exhausted from it. The oil was stored in glazed jars with a fuse sticking out of the top of them. They kept them stacked near the catapults for easy loading in pyramid structures.

 

The elves had spread into groups of 500 and moved into 10 different positions. The bulk of these forces were mages, and they comprised over a third of the army. The next largest force was archers, combined with the mages they made up over half the forces. Then random martial disciplines made up the rest of the elven army. When the gas had first flown over the wall it landed to the rear of the archers and mages in the forward two groups. Then it quickly spread and began to poison the group of elves to death.

 

“Quickly! Pull them out! Don't breathe in the smoke!” Another soldier yelled out.

 

Coughing filled the air, as the heavy, damp air caused the smoke to get trapped, unable to rise. This caused it to spread rapidly, and one single canister could produce thick fog for over half an hour. The elves who were near the rear came out with just a cough, but the ones who had gotten more of the poison were showing much more severe symptoms.

 

They would claw at their throats, and they would have a look of horror on their slack faces. This caused the martial forces to hesitate in moving forward, why would they want to expose themselves to that horrible toxin?

 

“Get the healers!” One of the captains yelled out to the back lines near the catapults.

 

Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!

 

Suddenly trails of smoke fired out through the air, it was the same canisters that caused this mess. Looking at the direction they were flying, they were headed right for the catapults. The other 600 elves who made up this joint regiment watched in despair, as they were cut off. A ring of fog had formed around them leading to the catapults.

 

“Form up! Stronghold Formation!” The Commander ordered through the chaos.

 

The soldiers jerked awake and quickly formed a diamond-shaped formation with the mages and archers in the middle. It also allowed the wounded to be protected in the center with the healers. The 600 men completed the formation change from the chaos in less than 3 minutes, a testament to their discipline.

 

“Ahhhhhhh!” Boom! Boom! Boom!

 

“Retr-” Boom! Splat!

 

The soldiers all looked in the smoke in horror, as they could hear killing going on through the other side of the smoke. The soldiers closest to the edge of the swamp all looked around with vigilance.

 

“They are destroying the catapults! Stop the-” BOOOOOM!

 

A massive explosion ripped through the air and caused some of the soldiers standing near the edge closest to it to fall over. All around them was a thick wall of smoke that seemed to be oozing around them constantly.

 

“What the hell is going on out there!” One of the soldiers yelled out.

 

Looking around they all felt like rats trapped in a barrel.

 

“Screw this!” One of the soldiers screamed out, as he took a deep breath and bolted into the fog.

 

All of the soldiers held their breath, as they listened to his feet smacking against the muddy ground.

 

Boom!Splash!

 

They suddenly heard a roar from the smoke followed by the sound of a body hitting the wet ground.

 

“Archers! Loose!” The commander yelled out as he pointed out the direction of the gunshot.

 

The 100 or so archers that weren't poisoned all began to unleash arrows into the direction that the gunshot had come from, but the perpetrator was already long gone. This could be known immediately by the response they got after they had fired a few hundred arrows.

 

Squeak!Squeak!Squeak!Squeak!Squeak!

 

“Archers!” The commander roared out in anger!

 

Arrows flew into the smoke in the direction of the squeaking, they loosed several volleys again, but they heard something they never expected.

 

“Friendly fire! Friendly fire!” Another commander roared back in fury.

 

“Halt the volley!” The elf commander called out, as his face went pale.

 

The archers all ceased firing immediately, some had pained expressions on their faces.

 

“They are fucking laughing at us!” One of the elven captains cursed out, as they could hear that same squeaking coming from other directions now.

 

-

 

Arno found a problem with his attire, he had to raise his mask to wipe the tears from his beady, little eyes. Looking at the ground, he could see the grenade he had dropped when he started laughing so hard he almost fell over.

 

“Bernie! Good one!” Arno called out to his comrade out in the smoke.

 

A few arrows landed near him, but they were far off the mark. Looking back at his trusty grenade launcher, he lined up the grenade and slid it into the drum. These grenades were a different color than the ones he had been using up to now. The gas grenades had a dark green stripe on a metal casing, but these were clear plastic rounds, filled with pellets. This was an invention that a succubus had created, it acted like a fragmentation grenade.

 

It was a secret group called the “Succubus Fulfillment Society,” with their motto “taking weapons that aren't cool enough and making them better!” These fragmentation grenades were a prime example, and used dark iron flake that the succubi produced themselves! All of this was done by stealing it from Rex's mana storage tank without his knowledge. This was payback for all of the free stuff the succubi had provided him over the years, at least in their minds this was how it worked!

 

Arno smiled as he finished loading the final round, and spun the drum to prime it. That loud mechanical click always brought a smile to his face. The mousemen had let the elves carry away the wounded, not out of pity, but to get the healers in one place. Sniffing the air through the opening in his mask, he found the location where the blood was the heaviest. He raised his gun and took careful aim based on his training with it.

 

Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! Click!

 

“Cheese and Beer!” Arno screamed out with a mad light in his eyes, watching the payload pass through the air.

 

-

Meanwhile...

Inside the city of Rattholme

 

“Look outside and see for yourselves! 4 of our brothers are making fools out of thousands of elves!” Greko roared out from atop the large plastic crate he was standing on top of.

 

The succubi had taken advantage of the chaos that the mousemen had caused to drop off these precious supplies. Over 300 of the succubi had been deployed to deliver supplies to the 2 tribes for this mission. They had just gotten done dropping supplies off to Lunas who was currently establishing her rule over the pack. Greko was currently facing a different situation, making these cowardly rodents into soldiers.

 

“For too long have the other races looked down on us rodents, they thought we were their emergency rations! We cleaned their sewers, their trash, and anything else that disgusted them!” Greko cried out in outrage, as he stood on top of the black crate made of plastic.

 

All four sides of the crate had a white and tawny picture of Greko's face in caricature. This was because he was very particular about his image. Rex would say it was like trying to model yourself as Teddy Roosevelt when you had a body that looked like William Taft. His love for “Cheese and Beer!” had led this fellow to quite a bit of girth, and he was currently bending the plastic he stood on.

 

Pulling out a toxic grenade, he held it in front of the rodents who looked at it in wonder.

 

“This is the gift that the Supreme Cheese has granted us!” Greko called out, as he pulled the pin. “Within this smoke, the mousemen and ratmen have the power to take out any number of elves!”

 

Greko began pointing at all the dead rodents that littered the muddy streets, the scent of blood was heavy, and smoke filled the air.

 

“The other beastmen, the elves, why does it matter who it is? We must take the fate of the rodents into our own hands!” Greko cried out as thick smoke began to ooze out of the grenade in his hand.

 

As the heat quickly built, he used a string that was attached to the top to hang it from his coat. This way the smoke would always be with him, this was something he learned by being bombed for a week straight.

 

“Follow me brothers, and I can show you the joys of cheese and beer! All while we destroy the enemies who once sought to hold us down!” Greko yelled out driving his stubby foot through the lid of the crate. Kicking his booted foot forward, he tore part of the lid of the crate off, revealing hundreds of grenades.

 

“Join me, brothers! Let us chase the elves out of our swamp!” Greko yelled, as he jumped off the crate, and began running on all fours towards the entrance of the city. “CHEESE! AND! BEER!”

 

All of the rodents stared in shock as they watched the chubby mouse men go running out of the city, as a thick smoke erupted from the grenade at his waist. It didn't take long before they saw a young mouse run up to the crate that Greko had left open, he immediately grabbed one of the grenades and began to look it over.

 

“Daddy, I can kill them with this!” The young mouse said with hatred, as it pulled the pin out of the grenade. It didn't care that it was hot, or that its hand was burned. It just remembered the elf who was laughing at him, as he mourned his father.

 

“Cheebs and Deer!” The little mouse yelled out with angry tears in his eyes, then he sprinted after Greko.

 

The image of the young rodent charging out to fight the elves seemed to stir a feeling in the gathered rodents. They all began to stare at the crate more intensely, they also saw the moments they felt like they had been stepped on. Suddenly a second mouse charged up to the crate, it was a white female with red eyes.

 

“My little brother... monsters!” She cried as she took two of the grenades. One was for her, and the other was for the one she lost. She pulled the pins on both, and used the rags she wore told them to attach the hooks, then she also charged towards the gates.

 

This action seemed to cause a chain reaction, as the rage began to flow through the entire mob. The expressions of all of the various mousemen and ratmen began to change into righteous hatred.

 

-

Meanwhile...

Succubus Homeland, Research facility

 

“Why is she cutting it li-” Borscht began to ask, but he was silenced by Rex.

 

“Shaya, you are doing phenomenal! Great Job!” Rex swatted the bear angrily, as he immediately encouraged the little succubus standing on the stool.

 

Shaya's tail had begun to droop when she thought that Borscht was questioning her, but Rex's words of encouragement perked it right back up. Welch also reached out and pinched the white bear's cheek.

 

“She is different from the other succubi, she gets discouraged easily.” Welch told the bear.

 

Borscht looked at the little succubus with an appalled expression.

 

“I'm sorry, forgive bear? You make best weapons, shy little girl!” Borscht told Shaya seriously.

 

She wasn't able to face a crowd of more than two people; so she didn't turn to face them, she just nodded her little head, and went back to controlling the mill.

 

“She is the best on the island at machining, she can cut it down to the micron. I have never seen a more gifted machinist, but she doesn't believe a word of it.” Rex said in resignation. “You don't even have to be talking about her, but if it is bad in any way it will dampen her mood.”

 

Rex was explaining this when he looked up in time to see Shaya's tail drooping dangerously low.

 

“Shaya, you are the best ever! Let's go, Shaya! let's go!” Rex began to quickly encourage and cheer her on.

 

Rex was desperate to see that tail begin to raise back up, he breathed a sigh of relief when he saw it was at safe levels.

 

“Like I said, brilliant machinist, but she just needs constant encouragement.” Rex said as he patted the completed parts next to him with a smile.

 

These were the parts to several new weapons, they were to fill in the succubus arsenal. He was also making two specialty weapons, one was a machine gun, and the other was a shotgun. Looking at them, he smiled as he continued to watch Shaya's tail closely, he needed to maintain her energy levels if he didn't want her to run out of the building crying.

 

“If only I could use the mill! This damned ability!” Rex said with frustration.

 

-

Meanwhile...

The beastmen plains, Outside the walls of Rattholme

 

“Hang on! I am sure I can detoxify you!” An elvish healer called out.

 

In the center of the formation many pale elves struggled to breathe, the neurotoxin had thoroughly invaded their system. Many had slack faces, with eyes that were filled with terror. Some of them weakly scratched at their throats, and many male and female acolytes were trying to help these poisoned elves breathe until they could get help.

 

Surrounding them were the mages and archers, who were waiting for further orders. Their last indiscriminate attack had already killed some of their comrades, they weren't going to make the same mistake again. Surrounding these forces to make a diamond shape was all of the martial elves, wearing armor with various types of weapons. This group had originally been two separate 500 man squads. Now they were over 600 elves, with over 200 poisoned allies in the center.

 

The thick smoke was still surrounding them, trapping them like rats.

 

“Maybe we should run through?” One of the captains questioned.

 

“Shut up, don't drop the morale!” He was chided instantly by another captain.

 

The smoke and the black coats gave the effect of making you think every curl of the smoke was a mouse.

 

“SQUEAK! SQUEAK! SQUEAK!”

 

Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!

 

The smoke parted, as several projectiles flew into the center of the formation. These didn't leave smoke trailing them, but this didn't decrease the sense of danger. They didn't have longer than a quarter of a second to wait before the first projectile smashed right into one of the captains who was riding on a giant lizard.

 

BOOM!

 

The grenade instantly vaporized the elf, before a wave of blood was created, as the shards of dark iron went tearing through the air. Every elf within 12 steps was killed from the blast of C4 and the metal shards, they were all eviscerated into pieces. Within 20 paces, they had suffered shock from the blast, and damage from the shrapnel. Over 30 elves had died from that single explosion.

 

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

 

Five more blasts quickly joined the first, right in the center of the elves' ranks. The sound of screaming and shrapnel tearing through the air quickly sowed panic. No one issued orders, and soon they saw the first elf take a deep breath and charge into the smoke.

 

Bang!

 

All of the panics stopped, and all of the soldiers turned their eyes in the direction that the elven soldier's hand ran.

 

“They killed him! They are just waiting for us in there!”

 

“Where the hell is our orders, what is the commander doing!”

 

“The commander is dead! The commander is dead!”

 

Panic was growing quickly, as they all began to feel like rats trapped in the smoke. It had created a ring like an arena.

 

“Squeak squeak squeak!” a mouseman voice drifted through the smoke.

 

“They're laughing at us! They are doing to us what we tried to do to their home!” An elven captain roared out. “ All together, we break through to the West! All troops retreat!”

 

A loud horn sounded out signaling that the squad was retreating, this was for the men on the other side of the smoke. All of the elves began to take deep breaths, as they all started charging into the smoke. The captain was the first one through, as he had a mount, or at least he should have been. As he pulled through what he thought should have been the boundary, he found that the smoke kept spreading.

 

He began to spur his mount on urgently, as his lungs began to scream at him, but there was no end in sight. His heart nearly fell out of his chest when he saw a group of mousemen in front of him running around in the smoke. They all wore rags, and that seemed to be only the more lavish of them. Many held the hot gas grenades in their teeth, many with a look of fanaticism.

 

Wherever the mousemen went, the thick smoke followed, and while it burned their eyes, they could still smell the elves that were desperately running from them. This was a new feeling to the pathetic mousemen, one they had never experienced before.

 

Looking around, the little mouse who was the first to step forward was looking around at all of the dead elves. They were the ones who failed to escape from the poison. Tears were forming in his eyes, they were a mixture of his grief and the smoke.

 

“Did I avenge you? Did you see it, dad?” He asked the air.

 

A heavy paw landed on his shoulder and patted it gently. Turning around he saw a black mouse wearing a trench coat, he had a white spot that extended from his stomach to his chin.

 

“I'm sure he would be very proud of you, I am Arno.” Arno told him with a smile. “Hey, what is your name?”

“

Jo...” The little mouse said.

 

“Well, I am expecting great things from you. Cheese and Beer, Comrade!” Arno said as he pats the boy on the shoulder happily.

 

“CHEESE AND BEER! CHEESE AND BEER! CHEESE AND BEER!” The various mousemen chorused through the smoke.

 

They had no idea what these things were, but Boss Greko had said they would find out when they chased the elves away. This was the first battle of the mousemen, while they had lost quite a few people in the initial siege, the poison gas had taken the elves completely by surprise. Out of 5000 elves, only 1000 survived to report back after three days of running. All of their supplies and food had been left behind. This was one of the first defeats that the elves had experienced in the Beastmen Plains. This was also only the precursor of what was to come.