N'Tashi Bloodclaw the Tyrant

[Maxodis]

Your character's full name: N'Tashi Bloodclaw the Tyrant
Age: 67
Species: Stoat
Gender: Male
Appearance:

Although lean and whip-thin in his younger days, N'Tashi's body has degenerated, now he is simply an old, fat stoat. At least, to look at. He is still in possession of considerable strength under all his flab.

Although he was never a sea-going creature, he has two gold hoops, one in each ear. He usually dresses in a ratty red tunic, a used-to-be-white long-sleeved shirt, and a wide brown belt holds up his trousers, a yellowed off-white.

Belongings:

Besides claiming ownership of Fort N'Tashi and all the land within a few miles, N'Tashi keeps many personal effects, largely whatever fine valuable things he claimed for himself during the fall of Redwall and the choice pickings of the first tithes that he had set in place. He carries with him a fencing rapier, though the blade is so ornate that it appears to have been designed for decoration more than combat. It's blade is, regardless of it's appearance, pristinely sharp. The tip is slightl more dulled than the rest of the blade, from multiple threats and quick executions of those who displeased him.

He still has his old rapier that served him for many years before he aquired his kingly weapon. He keeps it out of sight of prying eyes. The handle is in bad shape, the crossguard is rusted and dented, the blade is jagged and dull.

Job or Position:

Stoat Warlord, Bloodclaw the Ruthless, N'Tashi the Tyrant, Ruler of Mossflower, Lord of Fort N'Tashi, and Conqueror of Redwall Abbey

Personality:

N'Tashi has never known comfort, never known love. He has only known greed and mistrust. He is well aware of the fact that at any time he could find himself in the same situation as his predecessor, and is mistrustful of all creatures, especially those he has known the longest. In his age, he is irritable, dark, slightly delerious, paranoid, vicious, and, above all, greedy.

History and Background Information:

N'Tashi's birth was the result of an encounter between two members of the then small nomadic raiding band. His mother died giving birth to him, his father was found dead in his sleep, his throat cut and his belongings distributed among the other members several days later. No questions were asked. The matter was a small one. The orphaned babe was cared for by another member of the band, though by the time the small stoat was able to survive on it's own, the surrogate parent had abandoned N'Tashi to his own devices. N'Tashi was raised by the horde, living off the scraps that were left by the other members, making himself useful in raids by stealing what he could and running as fast as his small legs could take him back to the predetermined rendezvous location. He learned to fight through the quarrels that arose within the camp. The fights grew to be more vicious and frequent as the small riding party grew into a vast horde.

At some point, the previous leader died and a new commander rose to lead the horde. He was brutal and ambitious. He set his sights on the fabled "Redwall Abbey", seeking to obtain it and make it his base of operations, his seat of power in his plan to control Mossflower, and one say, the lands beyond. The resulting war was long-fought and bitter. Both sides took massive casualties, both sides invented new techniques of killing the other more efficiently.

But somehow, the horde prevailed. They had broken the tradition of failure, had capture Redwall. The place was immediately looted. Those within were forced into slave labor. All who resisted were killed. At least, that's how it was in the beginning.

Hordebeasts were dying left and right. Poison here, a loose shingle fallen from high on the roof there, a trip off the balcony over there, the slaves were persistant in their resistance. They would not be broken. More.....drastic.....actions were taken to break their spirits.

The torture devices were built then. Machines that could have only been dreamed up in nightmares were constructed. Most were simple. The resulting shrieks from the victims caused the makers of the machines to shudder violently and recoil in horror. Some even remarked that when a creature was dying on those wreched things, the bells that stood unused in the belltower vibrated with the resounding unearthly shrieks. There was not need to employ them for long. The slaves learned to do as they were told, to endure their torment, lest they suffer one far greater. The machines are still in the courtyard, tucked away in a corner, their wood rotting, their metal rusted, as cruel reminders to those that had seen what they could do and ominous warnings to those that hadn't.

N'Tashi had proven himself to be a capable officer in the war, many of the improvised weaponry was of his design. He found himself moving up in the ranks of the horde quicker than he could shift his few belongings to his new tent. After the conquest of Redwall, he was the one who suggested the idea of the torture machines, and supervised their construction, adding personal touches of his own to many. The brutal effectiveness of his method boosted him to second-in-command. For twenty years he carried out his duties, keeping to himself, brooding, thinking. Those that knew him knew that his behaviour marked devious thoughts at work.

Then, unexpectedly, the leader of the horde, growing old but still bursting with vitality, fell ill and died. None doubted that there was foul play at work. There was no doubt that the poisoning had been, to some extent, N'Tashi's doing. At first, in the early days of his illness, some believed that the tyrant was not really sick, that it was just a ruse, a trap for those who wished to succeed him before his time. After his proclaimed death, many still did not believe that he was dead. It was better to be safe than find yourself accused of insubordination. After a time, N'Tashi stepped up, taking control of the horde. Many objected. Their objections were solved simply, with a blade in their gut. Undisputed, N'Tashi set his plans in operation.

He immediately expanded their influence, sending raiding parties out farther than before, to suppress all who would deny his unquestionable domination over the area. N'Tashi had lost a good many of his horde in his rise to power, many were growing old. New recruits were needed. N'Tashi ordered a tithe of those surviving homes under his dominion, those who could not pay would be forced into active service. Those who resisted would be forced into slavery.

It has been so, to this day. The new recruits are drilled daily, in preparation for a battle that will never happen. They are trained to work in squads for both warfare and raiding. Each has it's own role, and would rather die than meet the fate left to them for insubordination.

Any other details:

Code Words: -current-

[Treble Tiderunner]

Excellent. Accepted.