Pretty much this entire story is an in-joke, so I won't bother going into a lot of detail about what the hell I'm talking about. Just read and see what happens, if you don't understand something ask around. Thank You, Huggy (hoping someone can understand his babbling).

Rabid Rodent Warlords
by Huggy

Squique the Small was a fifth level watchman, which basically means he had the huge responsibility of walking circles around base camp for eight hours a day. To break up the monotony, he was occasionally called 'sir' by a select few with even worse luck than his own. Just in case it isn't already obvious, he really hated his job.

Squique had joined the army because of his dad. The gray-haired old fool had joined before he got out of school and spent the rest of his life as a soldier. He'd easily become a hero after being credited with single- handedly winning the Battle of Gibson Street. Needless to say, he wanted his son to carry on the tradition. So Squique had signed up and landed this pathetic post on Glen Oaks; on home soil, dammit! No one had a chance to prove himself here.

Because he was so absorbed in the unfairness of it all, Squique almost didn't notice when the attack started.

Acorn the Climber was the commanding officer of the Glen Oaks post. It was almost a historic site, nearly as old as the Varmittian Empire. And in all of that time it had never been attacked, until today.

It looked like one of the natives of the area had become aware of their presence and didn't like it. They never did, for some reason. The Empire had spent years trying to understand the twisted psychology of these giants they had no choice but to coexist with, the only thing they new for sure was that they were hostile to the extreme and possibly insane.

This time the attacker looked like a male of the species. He was obviously a primitive, judging by the strange, shiny club he was using as a weapon. Acorn was no fool though, he had seen what weapons like that could do in the past. Disarming the deranged aggressor was the highest priority.

Acorn sent out a call for air support. A lot of the citizens of the Empire didn't like having the odd flying creatures in the military, mostly because they weren't citizens. This had prompted a lot of protest from both sides, at one point a rather violent faction of the flying creatures had started attacking members of Acorns tribe and wearing their tales. They called it a political statement. After that particular group was apprehended, the leader of the Empire and a representative of the flyers as they were called began formal negotiations and eventually they were granted tentative citizenship. As a symbol of their promise never to attack a fellow member of the Empire, the air force now were artificial tales as part of their uniform.

The attacker had been swinging at the large mass of watchman Squique had led out to hold him off for about five minutes when he saw what appeared to be a small cloud moving toward him. He momentarily forgot about the small creatures milling around at his feet and stared at the strange sight before him. As he watched, the cloud suddenly seemed to break up into a bunch of smaller shapes. That wasn't a cloud, it was bats; a whole lot of them. The man panicked.

Squique took advantage of the attackers momentary distraction by climbing up his leg and making his way to the hand he was using to swing the club. When the giant saw the air force coming at him Squique had to hold on with all of his strength to keep from being thrown off as the creature began running around screaming in it's strange language and beating itself around the head and neck.

Hoping to keep any of the soldiers he had led into battle from getting trampled, Squique began ordering them back. Unfortunately, the attacker also heard him and noticed Squique was clinging to his shirt.

As the giants massive fist moved toward him Squique knew he would have only one chance to do this right. He leapt from the mans stomach to his right arm and scrambled toward the hand holding the club. Squique bit down on a particularly fleshy part of the hand.

The giants response was instantaneous. He dropped the club and shook his hand hard enough to fling Squique off and send him flying twenty feet. The club was immediately grabbed by a dozen of the small soldiers who carried it off before the giant could grab it again. Squique was picked up and carried off the field by a member of the air force.

Jake Morgendorffer watched as the mice and bats flew off, as he looked at the top of the tree they had all come out of he thought he glimpsed a squirrel giving him a particularly angry look. Then it hit him.

"Dammit! My nine iron!"

Squique was awarded a medal for bravery. As a mark of honor his name was changed from Squique the Small to Squique the Leaper.

The End