A grizzled otter leaned behind the parapet. He used to be a goodbeast, turned evil by the passing of time. He listened to the vermin around him shouting in disarray. Fort Verminhall was under attack, goodbeast freedom fighters sending a hail of stones and arrows upon the hordes of Tempest Eye. The otter notched a bolt into his crossbow. He stood and fired, hitting a beast (he couldn't tell what type) in the head. The sniped beast looked familiar. The evil otter had to take a look. He dove over the parapet, landing on all fours. He dashed towards the fallen form as a barrage of spears hit the ground around him. The otter dove beside the corpse and turned it over. He looked into the face of his brother.