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Dagney
Round One: Critical Failure
Option & Roll: Body/2 Int+2 [7 + 6 > 3 + 8] 11 + [1]
Difficulty: 13
Result: 12 [Fail!Again]

Kick them off first chance you get and make a break for it!

“No, no, no!” Poor Dagney sounded like a baby mouse having a tantrum, “Stop it! Leave me be!”. Struggle as he did, they still managed to grab onto his legs and drag him down the hall, leaving quite a set of deep grooves in the dirt from his spiny quills. This is no good…have to get out…have to throw them off guard. Deciding the best way to do that, Dagney suddenly stopped squirming and yelling and moving at all. Achieving the exact result he had hoped for, the squirrels were confused and let go of his legs, turning around to see what had happened. He continued to lay there for a moment, then in a split second he jumped up and began to run for what he assumed was the exit. But the squirrels did not follow, they just stood there and watched. He turned to look back at them and was baffled, but soon realized why as he fell head first into a deep hole filled with rotting animals corpses and bones. “Well, had we known he was so picky, we would have dragged him over there to begin with!” the squirrel said, eliciting laughs from his mates.

Skark
Round 2 - Kick them off first chance you get and make a break for it! (Body/2 + Int+2, round down) (Dif: 13)

So.
Body 5/2 = 2.5 rounded down =2
Mind 7+2=9

11 + roll of 6 = 17, success! Prompt response coming shortly :3

Two new squirrels had returned after a short time. Two very -angry- new squirrels, and they were not the least bit forgiving of Skark's aggressive advance on their friend, who'd just happened to be their captain. Skark had fought against them fervently, but in the end, long clubs always win against claws and a beak that cannot reach. The shrike gave a piercing cry as the squirrels finally felled him with several good whacks, causing the wicked bird to crumple back into an unmoving heap of feathers on the dank cell floor.

"That's enough, lads. Can't have 'im dying before he gets to Farrah, she'd have a right fit." the squirrel spat in disgust, and that was the last thing Skark heard before everything faded to black once more.

~~~~~~~

Skark exhaled harshly. It was not the drip-drip of the leaky ceiling that woke him this time, but the pain in his body and head, and the strange sensation of being moved and touched in a less than gentle fashion. In the back of his mind, his temper began to stir up again. He was not used to being in pain like this, or being caught off guard by something he so often killed and ate. It was infuriating. That's what he got for falling asleep in a strange place, he supposed. Still, the audacity of their actions was enough to make his feathers stand on end. He was no silly weakling songbird. He would just have to teach them. All these vengeful thoughts swam about in dim circles within his mind as he slowly drifted into a more conscious state.

"Bleh. Don't see why -we- gotta do this job. Didja see what this little monster did ta Ferny?" a rather annoying female voice complained.

"Aw, quit yer belly-achin'. He's out cold, see? 'E won't be tearin' at no one's ears much after today, that's fer sure. Ol' Farrah'll make sure of that." came the response, followed by a dark chuckle.

Skark's eyes nearly shot open as the creatures who were touching him grabbed his ankles, and began to drag. He caught himself, and did the best knocked-out bird impression he could muster. This wasn't something he'd ever done before, but Skark was a fairly good improviser. They pulled him out of his earthen prison, and into a hallway, which was just as earthy, by the smell of it, carelessly bumping the back of his aching head against the threshold in the process. This was rather peculiar, he suddenly realized. What were a bunch of tree-hoppers doing underground? The red one had not even vaguely resembled a ground squirrel, in appearance or disposition. The shrike disregarded the puzzling thought after a moment, finding it irrelevant to the current situation. Though his head hurt horribly, he was glad to be conscious. The squirrels were tricked, and he had the upper hand once again.

Remaining limp, Skark cracked his eyes open to slits, peering through the black mask that all his kind wore. Immediately he was forced to squeeze them shut again when a bright light flashed in his eyes. A few moments passed before he could see another patch of light behind his eyelids, and he opened them carefully, squinting. Yes, it was sunlight! They couldn't be that far underground if there were openings in the ceiling with light coming through. Now was the time to act, Skark decided, while he was alone with these two little savages in the seemingly empty hallway. He hoped it was empty, at any rate. He couldn't hear any footsteps behind him.

So, Skark lashed out as fiercely as he could, and with minimal noise. He sat up abruptly, and began to beat his sore wings, which startled one of the squirrels so badly that she nearly leapt out of her skin, and fell against the wall in a furry heap. The other yelled out in anger, but Skark lurched forward in a flurry to peck his face, slicing the bridge of his nose open and sending him tumbling back as the shrike shoved him aside to get past. He had been sorely tempted to stay behind and wreak further painful vengeance upon his two fiendish captors, but the yell seemed to have caught someone's attention. He could hear feet scuffling hurriedly over the floor somewhere close by, further fueled by the cries of pain coming from the squirrel he'd just injured. Freedom was in his sights, and he half fluttered, half hopped, making a frenzied dart for the door ahead that glowed with the promise of escape.

-Kick them off first chance you get and make a break for it! (Body/2 + Int+2, round down) (Dif: 13)

Mikal, you bloody skunk, you're like twice as big as a squirrel!

Let's hope I can get the math right.
Body=7/2 = 3.5 (3)
Mind=4+2 = 6
Total: 9+17= 26

Oooh, perfect. Now how does a skunk go about clearing a room...?



Oh, owww…

What a cruel, cruel blow to be dealt upon such a tender head! didn’t those rogues know a thing about the dangers of brain trauma, concussions, internal bleeding and bruising… why, they had nearly killed him, whopping him such a good one like they did, and now - as though he was moot! - they were dragging him by the footpaws through the mud. Occasionally one of his toes would give a twitch, and he would oh-so-softly bemoan the misery of his situation - and, for all his troubles, be knocked into Next Tuesday once more.

When he was finally allowed to return to the world of the living, he found he had been unceremoniously left in a heap of sodden fur somewhere much too bright for his aching, pounding eyes. Brain hurt. Hurt real bad. Urk… ohTreehewasgonnabesick -

Ah - no - that was just a sheer, wasting anger that tickled his stomach.

There must’ve been plenty of ratty little squirrels to see the Rise of the Skunk, none of whom knew what they had gotten themselves into. “’E seems a bit big fer a mouthful,” one was saying to another. “An’ sorta… overripe, if’n ya know what I mean. Ey?”

“Paaaardon me, squirrely, who's overripe?”

Wham. One massive back paw connected with a pretty sweet crunch to the side of a squirrel’s face. Another felt the punishing blow of a foot to the gut, while a third found himself noggin-to-noggin in a merciless headbutt that rattled the woven ceiling above like a misinterpreted gale. The squirrels were many, and though shocked at first by the laying waste of their comrades, they were quick to take arms. Mikal fought like a madbeast, breaking faces and taking names, but they were bugs that swarmed and stung with little knives and teeth - he was slowly being pinned to the ground, and even through the haze of a very serious migraine… he really didn’t want to resort to…

Aw, hell. There were too many. He didn’t want to put up with this much longer. HE WAS DYING, FER TREE’S SAKES. What he was about to do would never bear the light of day, nor ever be told in any one of his multiple autobiographies.

But it was effective.

They dropped like flies, screaming and crawling away in such anguish that (veeeerry briefly) he was quite amused. He picked himself up and out of their writhing figures, placed a paw on his throbbing head, and made like a thief for what he hoped to Tree was the way out; into the sunlight he threw himself, laughing maniacally and trying his very best not to trip over his own feet.

He still floundered like a fool, but at least he was free.

Round 1: Succeed

Round 2: Choice 2 (boogie down)

Result- 9 + 1 + 4 = 15<17
Not Quite
-------

Run. Run. Runrunrunrun.

His lungs were going to explode. If they didn't, his heart would. He could feel the dark air of the shadowed monster behind him, the thin slits of light filtering through the ceiling only like splinters to it. Slight nuisance.
I need that lantern. Oh god I need that lantern. Love and Muse, show me the path!

Well the direction he was currently on lead right into the dining hall of a bunch of less-than-savory company.
Squirrels to be exact, just like the guards from before.
Speaking of which, THEY were still chasing after him as well, he could hear their cries not more than a few dozen footfalls behind.

And ahead of him, a near CROWD all standing to confront him.
No giving up momentum. No stopping. Stopping would do nothing.
But brute force? Al? Brute force?
He'd laugh if he wasn't screaming.

So he did the next best thing.
He dove under the table, scrambling under chairs and between legs. He wasn't a large bat by any means, and his wings were held low in some feeble attempt to ward off any attackers.

And... well-

It didn't really work.
Not that he had THOUGHT it would. To be honest he wasn't thinking at all. Just his goal, that's all he had in mind.
And all he could think about as they flipped up the table. Onto HIM.
"YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND! THE SHADOWS! IT'S HIDING IN THE SHADOWS!"

They didn't seem to comprehend though, why couldn't they understand?
He only wished they did, even as he was roughly pulled from underneath the table (curse his useless limbs and pushing things away), flung up in the air (bat-volley ball anyone?) before hitting a wall, crumpling to the floor in a heap of wings and ears, the world gone quiet.
And dark.

And he had been so close too.

Spot is using his mind to get out of this one. ( 16 + 8 = 24 ) Success!


"Well, if we're going to be traveling companions, I'd say some introductions are in order. I'm Spot, the luckiest badger alive. There's not a bet I won't win. Wooer of women, and owner of a broken heart in every town I've passed through, I like to describe myself as lucky-in-more-than-one-way if you catch my drift." Spot paused and took a deep drag off of his cigar, waiting for some sort of response of awe. There was none.

That was only a tad bit ego crushing. He let out a long sigh, "And you gentlemen are?"

The squirrel that had let him out of the jail cell chimed in first. "My name is Rustle, but only my mum calls me that. My friends call me Russ."

"No," the other squirrel said, "yer friends call you Idiot, and yer dumb 'nuf to answer to it. You shouldn't have given this badger your real name. I still haven't decided if this is just all a test from Ferrah to see if we're loyal or not."

"But Sal...."

"Don't call me by my name! Wha' are ya doin'!?" he said as he smacked Russ in the back of his head.

As fun as this would have been to continue watching, Spot decided to jump in. "Fellas, fellas! Slow down here! I'm not a spy sent here by Ferrah for anything. Alright? Now, I just keep walking down this hallway, and I have no idea where we're going. One of you want to take the lead?"

Of course, Spot had been orating, and when he got into it, he usually closed his eyes while speaking. He thought that it made everything more dramatic when he did that.

Neither of the squirrels responded to him. "Hey, guys?" he said as he turned around and looked at them. Both of the squirrels were frozen in fear; their eyes were wide and they were pointing forward.

"I should turn back around, shouldn't I?" Spot asked and was given a slow nod in response. When he changed the way he was facing again, he was met by the hungry stares of 23 squirrel's eyes (one of the squirrels was sporting an eye patch).

"Well, well, well," one of the squirrels, the one with a loosely tied red bandanna around his waist, said, "looks like Russ and Sal were kind 'nuf to bring a meal to us just as were were wondering what we were gon' have for dinner."

"No, you have the wrong idea here, buddy," Spot said as he nervously rubbed the non-lit end of his cigar with one hand, and fiddled with his dice with the other. "See, the three of us were just on our way out of this joint. We were going to strike out on our own. All of you could come with us too."

Bandanna-man started laughing, and all the other squirrels joined in. It was an eerie effect. "You really expect all of us to turn traitor like those two numb-skulls did and leave here..." He could barely keep his composure, and started laughing harder. "Leave with you?"

This was frustrating. It was a horrible feeling to be laughed at like this. It reminded Spot of a time long ago when he wasn't as ravishingly good looking, but was just as lucky. It reminded him of why he had set out on his own in the first place. Spot ran away from home when he was just a pup without even saying good bye to anyone. He had been outside on a fresh Spring morning, and was shooting craps with some other children from around the neighborhood. It was the hot streak to end all hot streaks, and Spot was cleaning house. Of course, being that children are horrible, mean, and jealous creatures, they accused him of cheating. They didn't believe that he could really be that lucky.

And then when he tried to defend himself, they started to laugh in his face as he nervously stumbled over his words. The more he yelled at them to stop, the harder they teased him. Quickly, the words weren't enough, and they started to beat and scratch and bite him. They took back all the money he had won, and left him there laying in the grass as a broken shell of a person. Once they had been gone for a while, Spot slowly got up. He grabbed the dice they had been playing with, and vowed to never return. Running as fast as his injured body could, he left his home as tears rolled down his face.

These squirrels were bullies who were used to getting what they wanted by cruelty. But above them was Ferrah, who was an even greater bully; she broke their spirits by forcing them to live in fear, and kept them weak by not feeding them enough. Spot wanted to turn and just run again, but he knew that he had to stand up to this large pack of bandits, and tell them to liberate themselves. It had worked with Russ and Sal, and hopefully the rest of them would see the light also.

"Why are you laughing?" Spot asked them as he took a step closer, his eyes full of righteous rage. "Don't you see that you're the fools? Don't you see that Ferrah is the one getting the last laugh?

Look at yourselves. You're grossly malnourished, yet you go out day after day after day after day to get food for someone else. You have to give away prime meats while getting only crumbs in return. You're not Ferrah's employees; you're her slaves, and she's duped you all into believing that this is the way it should be.

I'm going to tell you that it's not. This is not the natural order of things. No animal should be held bounden to another in such a way! Cast off your chains of oppression! Break the bonds that tie you to this monster! Leave with me and start a new life; gain back your self respect and your pride. Do not let yourselves be worn down another day! Do not let this continue any farther! Keep the food you catch for yourself, and carve out your own destiny. Be the master of your own life instead of a slave to another!

Join me, my squirrely brethren, and we will live as our own kings!"

A thunderous applause erupted from the crowd. Something he said must have struck the right cord as they began to push past him, and storm the exit. Spot felt a twinge of pride as he watched them flood out into the sunlight. He smiled and a single tear rolled out of his eye as he began to run after them.

(9+17=16=Success!)

TERRIBLE stared at the squirrels.

The squirrels stared at TERRIBLE.

Oh bleep.

There was no way he could escape this. Not by flying, not by running, not by bluffing. No... no, he'd have to show his plumage and take some serious refuge in audacity.

"Ma ma ma ma," he muttered, trying to think of some words and calling for his mother at the same time. "Ma ma ma ma ma..." Curse his stutter! "Um... now, I know you'd like to eat me- like they do in Fangroot, but please-" he said, edging away from the squirrels. "I can't let you hit me- Now, squirrelies- stay with me," he said, jumping up onto the table and dodging the flung paws. As he dodged their attacks, a smile crept across his face. The bird was in his element. I love it, he thought. He began to gloat: "I'll use my luck and intuition- play my cards while you miss the mark," then he dodged a swinging right hook and missed a jab aimed at his heart. "Oh, oh, oh!" he shouted as somebody grabbed his tail feathers. "You're getting hot- let TERRIBLE show you what I've got!" He repeated his call as somebody attempted to shiv him in the leg. "Can't eat my, can't eat my- no you can't eat my birdie face!" he cried. "You're gonna eat nobody! No, can't eat my, can't eat my, no you can't eat my birdie face- you're gonna eat nobody!" He sang this mockingly as he managed to evade the last of the squirrels. Leaping off the end of the table and into flight, he soared out of the hall and into the blinding sun. Was this his crowning moment of triumph? Perhaps.

It would certainly look cool when they made a play about his life and exploits. That was for darn sure.

*had to repost, I forgot to roll the first time. u u;;

Unnamed girly: Soul; 7+17... Success!

-Put on your poker face and convince them you're not on the menu, slip out through the back



Finally getting out of zis disgusting place... the enchantress grumbled in her mind. She was getting a bit tired of the cramped, and stale smell of the place... Who knew what time it was, with how dark it was in this cryptic like tomb. She missed the feel of the warm sun bathing over her lustrous silver coat, giving life and energy to the feline.
I'll have to treat myself to a longer sun bathing today.. her lips curled into a smug grin. It seemed appropriate to treat herself for such a pesky and irritating situation she seemed to be in.

Just as she was rather confident that her time here was done, another loop hole was tossed right into the works! Right before her, eating like pigs at a feeding troth was a plethora of squirrels, all munching and nibbling on varied seeds, and fruits; most dry and wrinkled.
They all seemed quite intent on their feast, the 'prisoner' pressed herself to the side of the tunnel, in hopes of seeming somewhat elusive, and hopefully hidden; though it was hard with her glorious white pelt.

It didn't take long for her to be seen as one of the chattering squirrels looked up when a glint of her fur caught his eye as a sliver of sun caressed it. Pricking his ears, the squirrel's reaction triggered the rest to act in the same manner, and all follow straight to the new company.
Sighing softly, ears drooping ever so slightly, the kitten stepped from her post, and strolled on out.

Let's get thees over vith... she thought internally, allowing a sly grin to curl on her lips.
Hips swaying slowly, tail following suit with a snaking motion side to side, her hind paws placed with great care as she walked past the aisle of seated rodents, giving a wink here or there, a few sweet words, and strokes under a chin or two. Indeed she had to work them, but it wasn't much of a challenge. They weren't hired for their smarts, that much was obvious. The jealousy's between one another fired up quickly, a few of the more bold males to stand and give attempts to earn the felines attention. Feinting interest, giving an innocent bat to her eyes as a second, third, and even forth male rose to the occasion, she would simply turn her head bashfully, and give a soft feminine giggle.
Of course they bought it, and it melted them into goo. It didn't take long for a few of the pea-brains to start bickering and challenging one another for the females attention, snapping and lashing out at one another .All desperate to impress her.
It was a common occurance, one she was always amused by. But at this point, she just wanted out.

Once the males had at each other with their foul words, insults, and even physical advances, the feline took that as her cue to make her way out the back door and feel that sunshine on her body. Inhaling deeply, door shutting behind her, a pleased purr let loose. Never did she want to be in there again... now... where were her things?