Would you Rather...

[Twyla]

The contest is on hold, so there's a place holder! Have fun writing a situation voted here. That will be posted soon!

[Airan]

Made my vote. I look forward to it! :D

[The Grey Coincidence]

This was a lotta fun! Big thanks for starting it.

[spoiler=1.5K words and there's some... gore I guess? Nothing extreme obviously, but proceed with caution...]

To kill or not to kill, that is the question... Whether it be nobler to make him suffer the slings and arrows of foul execution, or to deliver him swiftly... eh I don't even know where I'm going with this...

The mouse sighed, and slumped forwards on the table. For thirteen seasons Jax the Impaler had been a warlord beyond compare. And for more than thirteen seasons the weasel Bloodsnout had been by his side.

"But he betrayed me," hissed the warlord as he drew a dagger. "He betrayed me." The truth tore into him more cruelly than any blade ever had. "I trusted him, and I don't trust easy... but he still..." The mouse took a deep breath, and tried to squash the roar building up in his chest. But there was no use.  "We grew up together, the turntail, and then he-he- He went and hired you!"

With a wolf-like howl the warlord spun round, and threw the dagger at the only other beast inside his tent.

An assassin Bloodsnout had hired.

The dagger struck home and pierced the vixen's chest, joining the plethora of projectiles Jax had already thrown at her. Cold blood splattered across the ground.

Feeling marginally better, the warlord stood and approached the corpse. He withdrew the dagger. "Well two can play at that game Bloodie... you're not the only one who knows how to kill." Jax placed his paw upon the handle of his favourite axe, and wrenched it free of the vixen's skull. "In fact, I daresay I'm better at it."


An alarm bell rung somewhere in the distance. There came a scream, and then the bell was silenced. The Impaler screwed his eyes shut and bit back a hiss. It was never just one pesky assassin... Somebeast somewhere blew a horn. Jax placed the dagger back in his belt, and heaved the axe over his shoulder.

"AMBUSH!" he roared, stomping out his tent. To his horde, it was just another wednesday with more new beasts to kill.

And when I'm done with these beasts... When I'm done with these beasts there's one other I need to kill...

It was of course, far more than one pesky assassin. Parts of the camp were already ablaze, beasts were screaming everywhere.

But the Impaler was not a warlord for nothing.

The first beast that rushed him was swiftly decapitated. Jax kicked the creature's head away with all the inner rage of a beast betrayed. Ironic, that the now-dead beast had been a weasel.

More foes made the mistake of coming at him head-on. The warlord killed them too. It was excellent stress relief.

Mud, blood, fire. Screams. Jax the Impaler felt at home amidst the chaos. Here and there an opponent of some skill came, and forced him to block. But nobeast was skilled enough to hurt him. Stab, stab, stab. More blood covered the mouse and more corpses littered the ground.

The tides of the battle changed quickly. They may have caught his horde by surprise, but the enemy were disorganized and not particularly clever.

They should have burned the food supply and fled into the woods. No sane beast seeks prolonged battle with a horde.

"Put out that fire!" Jax roared, as he ended the life of another. The mouse pulled one of his subordinates down, the better to hiss into his ear. "Drop the sling Gobby you're going to get yourself killed."

"I just wanna help!" the young vermin protested.

"We don't need your help." The warlord watched his warriors as they went about slaying the foebeasts. Crimson streaked across the sky, and fell like rain upon the mud. Steel met steel, and iron met iron and a cacophony of clanging rang through the air.

"Ach! N-no-" From the corner of his eye, the warlord saw a bruised and battered weasel crawling through the mud. They were reaching for a spear, a spear that had been broken in half. Bloodsnout's spear...

A large rat stomped towards the downed creature, in his paws an axe that promised death.

"It's Bloodie!" Without missing a beat, and with the warlord's paw still firmly about his ear, Gobby began to swing the sling again. The stoat took aim, his eyes narrowed. Round and round the sling spun.

"No."

The stoat stayed his paw, confused, and turned towards the warlord. "W-wha-"

"I said no," said Jax, coldly. "Let him die."

"B-but-"

The tips of Bloodsnout's claws scrambled to reach the spear, but were soon crushed beneath the monstrous rat's footpaw. The victorious brute roared, and raised their weapon for the killing blow. The weasel tried to twist away, and as he did so his eyes fell upon the warlord.

Jax was a wall of silent, icy fury, the stoat besides him frozen in panic. Everything seemed to move so slowly. Bloodsnout clawed frantically in their direction. His lips moved, but Jax did not hear the single syllable that slipped out.

Then suddenly, Bloodsnout ceased to be a traitor and Jax the Impaler ceased to be a warlord. The scene changed and the warlord found himself much younger.

The bruised, battered and muddy weasel sniffed. "'M sorry 'Arl. I shouldn't have-"

"Shut your mouth Bloodie." Harlapple twisted the bandage round the weasel's wrist all the harder. The mud-splattered runt winced and opened his mouth to complain, but the mouse cut him short. "And don't tell me it hurts. I know it does, but you might want to think about that before you pick a fight with somebeast bigger than you."

"'S not my fault. Garrun dared-"

"And what did I tell you about playing dares with Garrun? No. Don't apologize. Just keep quiet and let me finish. Then we'll get you cleaned up. You look stupid with mud in your fur."

The warlord snapped back into reality, and found himself sprinting through the mud.

His axe met the rat's an inch from Bloodsnout's neck. The warlord locked eyes with the larger creature's, and there was such a ferocity on his face that the hulking brute felt compelled to back away. Both pulled their weapons free of the deadlock and raised their axes. There came the familiar clang of metal hitting metal. The rat stepped backwards and swung his weapon side-long at the mouse's chest. Jax sprung sideways and brought the shaft of his weapon to meet his opponent's and then they strained against each other's strength. Their feetpaw searched for traction along the mud as they matched each other glare for glare.

The rat opened his mouth, to unleash a taunt, or an order, or a battle cry of some sort. Jax never found out what. The point of Bloodsnout's spear drove through the foebeast's throat, so nothing but a wet gurgle escaped. At the same time one of Gobby's stones caught the rat between the eyes.

With a final grunt, Jax shoved the dying creature backwards into the mud, and ended him then and there with a final blow of his axe.

The battle raged on.

..............................

A while later, long after the last foebeast had been slain, Jax found himself back in his tent, cleaning his axe.

"I saved his life," he muttered, red dripping from his whiskers. "He betrayed me... and I saved his life." The warlord gave his weapon an experimental swing, and turned towards the former assassin. "Why? What weakness is this? I should have let the filthy turntail die!"

The newly-cleaned axe was painted crimson once more as it added to the vixen's impressive collection of mortal wounds.

"Ye should 'ave."

Jax twisted towards the voice, and found Bloodsnout there. The weasel, dripping in mud, scratched at an ear.

"'M sorry 'Arl. I-I-"

"Sit."

Bloodsnout sat down, swallowing audibly.

Jax tore his axe free, and made his way towards the turntail. He placed the edge of his blade against the weasel's neck.

"I will never forgive you for this."

"B-but I-"

"Quiet. You're a scrawny thing, always were. Wouldn't take much to kill you... A swift, clean death. You wouldn't even feel a thing..." The warlord's breath came ragged and fast. Anger was guiding his movements.

Bloodsnout swallowed back a whimper and screwed his eyes shut. Tears rolled down his face, but still he nodded, accepting his fate.

"D'ye think I could be a warlord 'Arl?"

Harlapple turned towards the weasel and frowned. "No offence Bloodie, but you haven't really got the temperament for it."

"Oh." The weasel looked downcast, till fresh realization hit him. "Ye'd be a better warlord anyways. Ye've got the temperament for it."

The young mouse smirked, and tossed a stone into the meadows. "You're not wrong about that."

"I s'pose I could be yer l-l-lootenant then, eh? I'd be a good one, right?"

The mouse considered this for a moment. "Well. You wouldn't be the worst one."

Bloodsnout failed to contain his excitement, and began to hop about and jump around. He twisted and twirled, the way weasel's were wont to do and Harlapple watched with a smile until Bloodsnout fell into a puddle of mud.

Jax the Impaler sighed and lowered his axe. "Get yourself cleaned up Bloodie. You look stupid with mud in your fur."[/spoiler]

[Twyla]

The votes are in and we would like to save that person who should be our enemy! Thank you your input and I hope we all have fun writing!

If you would like to have yours posted please PM me.