The Boomtown Rats (Various Characters)

  • This is a list of the various minor vermin characters I've come up with in threads. These guys were originally only supposed to occupy one thread, however since I plan to use them in future, I'll need profiles for them. This is a work-in-progress, a lot of their descriptions will be quoted directly from my RP posts where I wrote them. These will be italicised and put in quotation marks.

    **Full Name:** Racket Cruces
    **Nickname:** Racket (preferred)
    **Species:** Red Fox
    **Description:** _"He was a tall, broad fox with a barrel-like belly, muscled limbs and fur so dank and unclean it was sheltering an outbreak of fungus. No potential attacker would want to approach within _smelling_ distance of the rear guard, let alone try and stab his broad back. He had a large wooden club, which he rested on his shoulder. The only thing that kept the big fox decent was a red jacket suspiciously along the same pattern as a Long Patrol uniform, and a tattered loincloth. The jacket didn't fit him, so he wore it with the buttons undone, and there was a mud-coated medal pinned to his lapel. It was a trophy, showing off Racket's fighting prowess. The fox's thick footpaws squelched and splatted as he lumbered heavily behind the rest of the gang, one paw holding the club, the other scratching irritably here and there. In short, the fox at the back was a big, smelly vermin and he knew it."_
    **Possessions:** _"The heavyset fox never told them how he'd gotten the jacket, only hinted at how difficult it had been to clean up the mess. Racket preferred to let his fellow vermin use their imaginations to work out how he'd killed the hare wearing it."_
    _"The fox's tattered black-furred ears twitched, his many ear piercings glinting dully."_
    **Strengths:** _""Hold that near the wound, an mop up the blood. If you faint, I'll punch out yer teeth," Racket growled… Racket was blinking and baring his teeth, the rain was getting into his eyes. He gripped the arrow's shaft and drew a breath, hesitating for a moment. Worm realised at that moment Cissa was probably Racket's only real friend.
    Racket pulled. Cissa screamed, and the fox's arm came up holding the arrow. Racket frantically wiped the clotted blood from the barbed head, checking it was all in one piece. The iron head shined as the rain washed it clean. The fox met the weasel's eyes, and Racket choked, bowing his head and releasing the breath he'd been holding. He'd pulled it out whole."_ - Racket does not panic easily, and can take control of a situation and keep a level head even in the midst of chaos. He has a good deal of combat experience and knows when to duck, when to hide and when to fight.
    _"The big fox had foraged for food, with mixed success. Stolen bird's eggs, a young robin not quite meaty enough to feed him decently. Racket was not one for going hungry though, and his intuition told him St. Ninian's had more to offer than was readily apparent. Fruit trees grown wild since the orchards had been abandoned, yielding apples, plums and blackberries. The fox had greedily scarfed down the plentiful fruits, but he was not inconsiderate of the two beasts recovering inside. Having stockpiled some of the vittles, his attention turned to the subject of grog. He doubted very much that any ales or wines of the original abbey were still in the cellar, but there was still hope. Where there had been vermin travellers, there would have been drink. Thieves and smugglers sometimes need to travel light, and the cellar would make an ideal hiding place for any ill-gotten gains."_ - Racket has good intuition when it comes to foraging for food and other supplies. He can put himself in the place of other beasts to work out where they might have hidden their goods, and he is quite capable of living off the fat of the land, one way or another.
    **Weaknesses:** Racket has been described as 'creepy' by others and really only has one good friend in Cissa the rat. His appearance and brutish demeanour make it difficult to make friends or get anyone on his side. He is also lazy and doesn't like to do much thinking of his own.
    **Personality:** _"Even though the fox was physically intimidating, he was too lazy and anti-social to be a good leader. He preferred to hang around the back of the group, and let Fallon point him in the direction of whoever needed their skull bashed in."
    "Racket, like many vermin, never quite let on just how intelligent he was."_
    **RPs:** [Shadow in Mossflower Woods…]( - Starting Page 2 and onwards.

    Full Name: Tom (preferred)

    Nickname: Worm

    Species: Weasel

    Description: A small weasel with rusty-reddish brown fur. He has virtually no muscle power and looks quite underfed. He is usually quite dirty, whether it be dirt, dried mud or fallen leaves sticking to his fur.

    Possessions: "All Worm ever had was himself, and he gave that away too. He became the gang's lackey, in exchange for food and protection. The rags he wore as an adolescent rotted the longer he wore them, and eventually he outgrew them. He had to steal clothes from the gang's victims. Not even the weapon they gave him was his to keep."

    Strengths: " Racket was even more surprised that Worm was still alive, a creature he had thought frail and easily swept aside. Perhaps there was more to that weasel than met the eye." - Though Worm is physically and mentally to all appearances a very weak creature, he has proven himself stubbornly difficult to get rid of. Though his life has been threatened by vermin and woodlander alike more times than can be counted, he always manages to squirm his way out of trouble. Even when injured, he has shown a particularly strong will in staying alive.

    Weaknesses: "Cissa wasn't listening, because he had fainted. Worm realised his paws were soaked with the rat's blood, and promptly followed suit." - Worm is a very faint-hearted weasel. He can't stand the sight of blood, he often gets sick, he's usually the first to be injured in a fight and he's easily frightened and intimidated.

    Personality: "Ordinarily the weak weasel would have given up, but the grog seemed to have its own little voice in his ear. A confident little voice, one telling him to do something useful for once and save the only creature in the gang that might tolerate his presence and not be quite as creepy as Racket."

    Background: _"They knew him as Worm. Thrashing about on the ground, kicking up reddish-brown autumn leaves, the same rusty colour as the weasel kit's fur. His older brother had him in a headlock, and the other brats around the vermin camp had laughed. Look at him squirm, they had said. Like a worm, when you cut it in half. See you after supper, squirmy Worm. Give us your bread or we'll break your teeth. The weak weasel had cried and beat his paws against his brother. Let me go, he'd cried. I'm not a worm, I'm Tom. His brother snickered, and dropped his brother into the dirt. Only Mum calls you that, Worm. Go cry to Mummy, why don't you?

    Worm had run away from his family's clan. The nickname, however, stuck with him his whole miserable life. Crawling on his belly for food scraps, being kicked around by vermin gangs one after another. Trying to rob a squirrel of his lunch, and losing another tooth instead. Worm couldn't make anything of his own. He took shelter in damp logs, whilst others had tents or huts. He begged or stole food that he couldn't catch or forage for himself. He couldn't sharpen a piece of flint for a spear, he couldn't even find any flint if he wanted, or tell between flint, shale, or any other lump of rock he came across.

    All Worm ever had was himself, and he gave that away too. He became the gang's lackey, in exchange for food and protection. The rags he wore as an adolescent rotted the longer he wore them, and eventually he outgrew them. He had to steal clothes from the gang's victims. Not even the weapon they gave him was his to keep. Hold this club and look menacing, Worm, and if you beat out a hedgehog's brains, we'll let you have some of his dinner. Carry my haversack, Worm, and don't get it wet, or I'll thrash your tail blue. Get out of the way, Worm, you squirming little bug.

    Worm did like bugs. When it was quiet in the evenings, after the gang's boisterous mealtimes, he would curl up away from the campfire and find a caterpillar. He'd let it crawl onto a stick, and watch its stubby little legs ripple along as its feelers explored his grubby paw. Most of the group would be snoring, except Racket and Cissa blowing smoke rings side by side. Worm would watch their two silent silhouettes by the fire, one bulky fox and the other a sleek rat, and wish he could sit there too. But he never worked up the courage to put down the caterpillar, walk back to the fireside, and settle down beside them. He wasn't big and scary like Racket, or a skilled hunter and archer like Cissa. He was just Worm, and he hated that name."_

    RPs: Shadow in Mossflower Woods… - Starting Page 3 and onwards.

    **Full Name:** Narcissus
    **Nickname:** Cissa (preferred)
    **Species:** Rat
    **Description:** Cissa is an athletic, agile rat with sleek dark-grey fur.
    **Possessions:** _"Most of the group would be snoring, except Racket and Cissa blowing smoke rings side by side. Worm would watch their two silent silhouettes by the fire, one bulky fox and the other a sleek rat…"_ Cissa smokes pipe, often in the company of Racket. He also has a reputation as a good marksbeast, and has a longbow and quiver of arrows fitting to his profession of being a hunter.
    **Strengths:** _""Boss! Two beasts in no shape for a fight! We can't brawl with nobeast in this mud slop, an' Cissa's our best marksbeast!" Racket roared over the thunder, as everybeast cowered and flattened their ears."_ Cissa is a hunter and archer with quite a good reputation amongst vermin.
    **RPs:** [Shadow in Mossflower Woods…]( - Starting Page 3 and onwards.

  • Post split due to character limit.

    **Full Name:** Fiasco Juskaverde Taggerung
    **Nickname:** Fiasco (preferred), The Taggerung
    **Species:** Feral Cat
    **Description:** _"His fur was light brown, but marked with stripes of black, except around his chin and the front of his neck, which were white. He was quite thick-furred, with a dense mane around his neck and chest, and pointed tufts on his eartips. This gave him the appearance of being bigger than he was, though by Juska standards he was already a giant. In fact, nobeast stood over the feral cat save yet more intimidating creatures like badgers, wildcats or the almost legendary size of the wolverines. Though he was heavy and muscled, with paws that could crush skulls and a ravenous maw of sharp teeth, he was also quite young, perhaps just leaving his teenage years."_
    **Possessions:** _""Fiasco had taken for himself a morning star; a club with a long, thick handle and a wicked looking spiked head. Fiasco could already kill and maim with his bare paws; with the morning star his destructive tendencies were made into a form of art… The feral cat wielded it with ease, and a playful smile crossed his face as he gave it a casual swing. It hissed as the deadly spiked head moved through the air."_
    **Strengths:** _"Fiasco gave a contented purr and rolled off his trainer, looking at the other warriors as if challenging any of them to stand up to him in a 'friendly' sparring match. Nobeast obliged him, so he would have to make do with passing the time tackling Tiho, or batting at the ferret with his heavy paws. Even with his claws retracted, being beaten about with those paws was a dangerous and exhausting experience for the veteran warrior."_ - Fiasco, as his name implies, is capable of a lot of destruction when he puts his large body to the task. He is formidable fighter with just his natural claws and teeth, but with a weapon like his morning star, he becomes his own demolition team.
    **Weaknesses:** _"Fiasco meanwhile had calmed down from his frustration at being ignored. His mood had turned again, this time towards profound laziness. There was simply nothing _happening_ as far as the feral cat was concerned. "_ - Fiasco is a very moody creature, impulsive and difficult to keep calm and in control. He has a range of moods he switches to almost without warning, and very rarely is he truly happy.
    _"The most damage had been done to his ego really, Fiasco hated being embarrassed far more than just being in pain."_ - Fiasco is a very proud cat and constantly seeks admiration from others. Being embarrassed in any way upset Fiasco greatly. As the Taggerung, he enjoys the attention and the respect given the position, yet does not fully understand the consequences of having authority, and he lacks the maturity to handle situations beyond applying the brute force of either his will or his fists.
    **Personality:** _"Fiasco didn't know what kind of tree this was, nor did he care that he'd selected probably one of the more difficult trees to fell. It was a challenge, and it was typical of the feral cat to go after the tree with the thickest trunk, just to prove his strength."_- On the face of it, he is brutish, prone to violence, arrogant and superior as well as incredibly moody. At a glance, he would just be another 'bad beast' with no redeeming features. There's a lot more going on with him under the surface though. He's big, but actually barely out of his teens. He's mentally immature, and hasn't socialised much with beasts of his age. His closest friend is a veteran warrior ferret who's a generation older than him. He has emotional issues because he seeks the attention, approval and affection of his adoptive father. His surrogate mother is dead, and that has also left his mark on him, since his original birth parents are also absent from his life. To complicate matters further, he's been made Taggerung, a massive responsibility for someone so young and lacking in a lot of warrior experience. I don't write him as just a thug that can smash things. He's just a big kid with some social troubles, and his 'family' of Juska tribesbeasts have to be very patient to keep him out of too much trouble and let him grow and develop.
    **Background:** Nobeast can be quite certain of Fiasco's parentage, least of all the feral cat himself. He was found and adopted by Wildgrass Verde and his wife Naklin. He developed a strong attachment to his mother at an early age, and grew up in a privileged position as the adopted son of the Juskaverde chief. He was always stronger and bigger than the other kits in the tribe, which made him the ringleader in his circle of friends. He was a boisterous and troublesome kitten, but always the apple of his mother's eye. She always had a way of calming him and keeping him happy, even during his teenage years. She often let him play with the precious blue stone she always carried with her, though she never told him what it was or where it had come from.
    Naklin died when Fiasco became a young adult, leaving him very alone, and in an awkward relationship with his father. To complicate matters, he was also named Taggerung by the tribe's seer, Rheda. This left him with a lot to prove, especially to win the respect and love of his adoptive parent. Wildgrass assigned a veteran warrior of the tribe, a ferret named Tiho, to watch over his son in combat and keep his wild mood swings under control. Whilst Tiho proved to be a very resilient punching bag for the often distressed feral cat, he was not quite as good at keeping Fiasco out of trouble as Naklin had been. With the war on Redwall Abbey starting and Fiasco being given more battlefield responsibility than ever before, the feral cat became a very powerful force of destruction that could not always be reigned in by his father's orders.
    **RPs:** [Story Arc 2013: Vermin Planning Seige]( - Fiasco's first introduction.
    [Story Arc 2013: After First Battle]( - Starting Page 2 and onwards.

    Nickname: Pan

    Full Name: Panteleon Radzi, Emperor of Sampetra

    Species: Pine Marten

    Description: Panteleon's slender build is accentuated by being quite tall for a marten. He has the strength and stamina to wield his rapier and he is usually quite active and athletic. His fur is a vibrant chocolate-brown, excepting his neck and chest which are a creamy yellow colour. His tail is thick and fluffy and ends in a black tip. His muzzle is thin, and his whiskers are neat and straight. His front teeth are white, and he usually wears a charming smile, however his does have some gold teeth that can give his grin a bit more of a menacing edge. Most interesting of all are his eyes. They are a deep, dark brown that is near black, and they have the odd quality of drawing the attention of anyone in the same room as he is.

    Panteleon dresses lightly, for the warm climate of Sampetra. He prefers light silk shirts, which he wears open, showing his cream-coloured chest fluff. He also wears breeches of silk, which vary in colour from cream to purple to dark red, depending on the occasion. When expecting a fight, he will wear a padded jacket, and then a layer of scale armour over it. He sometimes wears a dark red 'fez' hat with a black tassel. This hat is worn at a slight off-kilter angle, and it supposedly for formal occasions but manages to find its way between Panteleon's ears whenever he feels like being ostentatious.

    Possessions: Panteleon has an ownership claim over the entire island of Sampetra and all its possessions natural and artificial, as well as being the owner and financer of the Imperial Fleet, which consists of three galleons, three fluyts and three schooners. The majority of slaves on the island are his property, though other islanders have their own. Panteleon owns the warehouses, and controls the sale of goods to other islanders and the goods that are produced on the island for export. Whilst he has significant influence over other business such as taverns on the island, there are several such establishments that are not his property. He is also in command of the Trident Rats, which are the bodyguards of the Emperor, as well as the Sampetran Port Authority, which is a collection of ex-corsairs with sharp weapons that enforce his taxes and tariffs.

    On the matter of possessions he keeps on his person, Panteleon's favoured weapon is the straight rapier, which he practises with to keep his finesse and skill at its best. He can also use curved sabres with exceptional skill. As such, he has a collection of his favourite swords, and often wears a finely crafted rapier when travelling about the island. He also has a variety of paw rings, bracelets on his wrists and ankles and tail rings which he wears as his whims direct him.


    He has a very studious and intellectual mind which is both open to logical and creative pursuits. He is extremely apt at mathematics, which aids him in running Sampetra's finances to a tidy profit whilst keeping the corsairs happy. He is fond of painting and occasionally subjects his staff to standing in for portraits. He is a keen fencer and practices with a blade frequently, as well as being athletic and an accomplished swimmer. He is also thought to be able to hypnotise the weak-minded into unwavering loyalty to him, and many corsairs suspect the Trident Rats are so efficient and obedient because of this power.


    Panteleon is more about finesse than strength, and can be intimidated by physical prowess. He does not have what you might call the 'common touch', due to his eccentric behaviour and fine living, and as such is very detached from the day-to-day affairs of the corsairs that visit the island, or the slaves that are his property. He is quite aloof and spends a lot of time in his reclusive Palace where only his Trident Rats and his personal staff see him. His mind, whilst quite sharp, can be unfocused and easily distracted by other pursuits.


    Panteleon is a playful and witty pine marten, who always seems to have an answer for everything. He is usually polite and charming to his guests and often unreadable in his emotions. He appreciates and enjoys the finer things in life, and he's accustomed to getting whatever he wants, no matter how difficult it is to acquire. One of his favourite treats is drinks cooled with ice, a rare commodity brought all the way to the tropical island by ships from far north. Despite his aloof behaviour and languid motions, he is not to be taken for a fool or weakling. Almost everything worth knowing on the island reaches his ears, and he controls and influences the islanders as he sees fit, even in unseen ways. Whilst he usually likes to deal with trouble using his powers of persuasion, he can resort to more threatening overtures if he feels flustered or angered. The marten's biggest fear is losing control of the world he has built up around himself. Though he has trouble trusting anybeast completely, he does enjoy being in company with beasts on his intellectual level.

    Background: Panteleon's ancestry can be traced back to the first Emperor of Sampetra, Ublaz 'Mad-Eyes' who famously had hypnotic powers and sought the pearls of Lutra. The old corsair had been around a few vermin coastal settlements in his time and as such had various illegitimate offspring. One of these pine martens was Latko Radzi, who grew up hearing stories of his famous father, and when he was old enough to be a corsair himself, set out to reclaim the island. It appeared that the hypnotic gaze Ublaz was famous for tended to skip a generation, so Latko had to rule with brute force, and the assistance of a wily fox corsair named Darius Lock. It was Lock's idea to use slaves to grow and tend to a vast plantation of various useful plants such as hemp, which could be used to make rope amongst other more mecidinal uses. The island's exports with the mainland brought riches to the island, which were quickly spent on luxuries by the greedy corsairs. The fortress became opulently decorated and renovated, a port town began to grow and prosper, and shipyards were laying down the keels of the new Imperial Fleet, built from sturdy oak trunks imported from mainland Mossflower Country.

    Pan himself was lucky in that he was born with the hypnotic gift, as well as growing up when the island's affairs were relatively peaceful. He was not a brutish warlord with muscles and scars to impress troops, and he rarely took to the sea as a corsair captain. Though his father, Pantelis Radzi, taught him the fine art of rapier fencing and how to get a ship to sail on the wind and currents, Pan was quite content to be the strategist, more at home with economic reports, spreadsheets and vast maps of new trade routes. This was not to suggest Pan was ever a faint-hearted ruler, however. He looked into the rebellious faces of slaves many times in his early life, and was quick to crush any hint of an uprising. He began to find in his teenage years the first hints he had inherited the legendary gift of Ublaz, his ancestor. However, it was not always guaranteed to work, especially on stubborn or determined minds. Pan was so used to getting his way using words, that it shocked him to discover some slaves were so hard-headed that not even he could placate them. He was once confronted by an escaped otter slave, and when his hypnotic charm failed to work, he panicked and struck the slave across the face and drew blood with his claws. After that, Pan decided to reform the Trident Rats and bring them all under his direct control and influence, making sure he had their complete loyalty in guarding him from danger.

    So, Pan grew up into a very well-read, cultured creature. His highly secured and isolated life was full of books, painting, music, dancing, fencing and other such leisurely activities that broadened his mind on every subject. He knew all his wealth and pleasant living was propped up on the back of the misery of creatures enslaved by his will, but Pan found it very difficult to be sympathetic with them. After all, he had been raised with slavery as part of normality on the island, and he saw no reason to be lenient on beasts that he knew would kill him if they had the chance. As the absolute authority on the island, Pan did not interact with many corsairs excepting the captains that he needed on his side. His talent for managing wealth and his wily ability to influence the weak-minded made him popular in a group that would have otherwise scorned him for his slight frame and lack of seasons before the mast of an ocean-going vessel. He trusted nobeast amongst the corsairs though, and took pleasure out of paying off spies to inform him of their secrets and habits, should they ever turn against him.

    Pan spent a considerable amount of time in his earlier adult years travelling abroad, where he discovered many exotic things. In his travels he came across some remarkable beasts, giant black Monitor Lizards coloured with striking irridescent blue spots and stripes. They were enormous and strong, and they reminded him of the stories of his ancestor, Ublaz, and that pine marten's army of lizards. Pan decided that these Monitor Lizards were even more imposing and powerful than the ones in the stories, and brought back many of them to form a second armed force under the control of a Monitor General. He developed a love of the rare and the unusual, and began collecting and importing whatever he desired to Sampetra. However, the business of controlling the island and keeping the variety of corsairs, freebooters and coast-raiders on his side began to occupy more of his time, and made him unwilling to travel away from Sampetra for so long again. Whilst at first this made him feel very restricted, he soon found that with enough wealth and persuasion, he could bring whoever and whatever he desired to stay in his palace instead. The rooms of the Palace began to fill with Pan's collection of all the finest things in the world he could acquire, usually via the paws of corsairs willing to loot and steal for a tidy profit.

    RPs: The Jewel of the Sea

    **Full Name:** Raknak Raggedtooth
    **Nickname:** Raknak
    **Species:** Greatrat
    **Description:** _Raknak Raggedtooth was by no means a pretty sight, his name already suggestive of his pronounced overbite and sharpened teeth._
    **Possessions:** The captaincy of the Trident Rats, and a trident as the signature weapon of that part of the Emperor's forces.
    **Strengths:** Brute strength and a good sense of intuition about other beasts, especially if he thinks they will cause trouble.
    **Weaknesses:** Raknak is exceptionally weak-minded and easily controlled by his master, Panteleon Radzi.
    **Personality:** _Raknak licked his teeth and grinned wider. "Any deserter taken into our custody must be hanged immediately from the yardarm of the ship he's found aboard."_ - Raknak is very by-the-book about the laws of Sampetra, and takes delight in enforcing them even if it would cause more trouble than it would solve.
    _At first Laverna thought the brutish captain of the Trident Rats was being sarcastic in his expressions, and his claim of being honoured to present her to the Emperor. Yet as she looked closer at him, he did not give off any trace of insincerity. He seemed to be genuinely unhappy that he had to contradict the wildcat's wishes, and his dismissive and downright creepy attitude towards her before seemed to have vanished entirely. Was this even the same rat that had gleefully told her he was going to hang her crew not half an hour ago? Laverna sensed there was something fishy about Raknak's sudden change of temperament._ - Raknak easily becomes humble and subservient when the Emperor orders him to treat others politely.
    **RPs:** [The Jewel of the Sea](

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