Santiago
The moon was high in the sky, and a cold fog hovered softly above the earthen ground, the night was illuminated nicely... But the plethora of trees seemed to block out most of this natural moonlight. Leaving the forested path relatively dark and difficult to see in. 

Well... Difficult for *Some*. 

Through the fog, scurrying along the path on his two, naked, rodent-like feet, was Ratssnick. A Verminkin, returning from his nightly scrap run into the city, who seemed oddly on edge despite being apparently alone. His furry head, with glowing red eyes, constantly scanned the trees and fog around him... Trying to see through them... Yet he saw nothing. 
With a twitch of his whiskers, and a flick of his ears, he sighed. Pausing only to reposition the heavy bag of scrap that hung from his side. Adjusting it so that it didn't bring him as much discomfort as he carried it. Once that was done, and after another quick glance around him, he finally spoke. 

"*Need-have to sleep-rest more, going crazy-mad no doubt...*"
He chittered... Softly to himself... Before shaking his head and continuing on his trek. 


A short while later he stopped on the path once more, looking all around him quickly, before scurrying off into the forest on his right. Vanishing into the thicket of bushes and trees. 
He began trekking through the forest on a peculiar path, making oddly specific turns and twists, before eventually stopping next to a toppled tree. Said tree, which had its roots ripped out of the ground, left a particularly large hole in the ground. It was this hole that Ratssnick sought... 

He carefully descended into the hole, his satchel of scrap and trash rattling as he did so, and began shoveling the dirt aside with his paws... Clearly trying to dig something up. Or perhaps... As it quickly became apparent... *Uncover* Something.

His digging quickly revealed a hatch, made of stained wood and reinforced with iron bracings, it also seemed to be secured by a hefty cast-iron lock... To which Ratssnick provided a key. 

He fumbled with the lock, pausing to check around him once more, before attempting to unlock it.
Love
Apprehension jobs were a fairly easy affair for the shinobi of the Kage Clan; their mastery of stealth and their titanic propensity for patience gave them the upper hand against the people they were sent to bag. Tonight seemed no different to the shadow operatives as they watched the paranoid Ratssnick make his way home along the labyrinthian pathways of the forest. Their employer? A wealthy merchant of Aismir who alleged that the inventive rodent was stealing patented technology from him; he had given the ninja information on the tinkerer's whereabouts and promised a hefty payday should they return with him in chains.

Normally, the Kage Clan would not have taken a job with such a vague profile of their target; any ninja worth their salt knew that an alleged wrongdoing did not equal an actual trespass, but being strangers in a new land in a business that most found underhanded left very little opportunity and the Kage Clan, just like any other person, were subject to the two penultimate laws of the universe: to survive one must have food... And to have food, one must first have money.

From perches high atop nearby trees, they watched the inventor descend into the hole underneath the tree and begin to unlock some sort of hatch: now was the time to strike! Suddenly, Ratssnick could hear the dull thuds of ten pairs of feet hitting the ground in all directions; he was surrounded.
Santiago
The ears of Verminkin inventor flickered and twitched almost immediately upon hearing the soft impacts around him. Normally he was smart enough to recognize a trap when he saw it, but unfortunately for him, he didn't see this coming. 

He whipped his gaze upward from the hatch, looking up at the edge of the hole, the trees, and the sky beyond it. His beady red eyes wide with panic and fear... He was going to be taken! They where going to take him! 

"*ⁿᵒ*"
They'd beat him bloody, bind his paws in chains, and drag him back to that terrible manor... To that terrible master of his... To that wooden desk, where'd he was fated to die. 

In a fit of shaking panic, he lost his grip on the iron key, dropping it into the dirt at his rodent-like feet. But his focus was on something far more important than a simple key. 

Dropping his satchel of scrap metal and trash, Ratssnick hurriedly fumbled about his belt, his paws reaching for and retrieving a long, crudely made, rusted knife. Which he clutched desperately in both his paws, before putting his back against the side of the hole that was covered by the trees roots, giving his attackers one less advantage against him. 

He shivered and shook, trembling with an all too familiar sense of fear, however he took a second to reach one paw behind him and pat the bottom of his backpack... Feeling a little more at ease when he felt the familiar rattling of his trump card... He had to be careful, and use it when he had no other options, lest he loose his secret advantage.
So, quickly, his paw reassumed it's position on his blades handle and he waited to see his attackers.
Love
Ratssnick wouldn't have to wait long to meet his newly found opponents, but what approached may surprise him. The creatures that approached from the darkness were not of any human stock, nor of elven, dwarven, or even orcish descent; what approached were ten bipedal raccoons, about a foot shorter than the inventor, dressed head to toe in black hooded black robes and pants. Masks of the same color covered the lower halves of their faces, revealing only their eyes to their target. Scarlet sash-like belts of a silk-like material were tied around their waists, where various weapons sat at the ready should Ratssnick decide not to come quietly, although since this was only an apprehension contract, none of the ones they carried with them tonight were particularly lethal.

As they made themselves known to their supposed prey, the shinobi directly in front of Ratssnick laid out the terms of what would happen next should the inventor want to avoid a fight.

"Ratssnick Gnawfang..." He said, his voice appropriately small for a creature of his size but still carrying a surprising amount of authority. "You stand accused of intellectual theft; if you wish to avoid the unpleasantries of battle, drop your weapon and place your hands in front of you."
Santiago
Indeed Ratssnick was surprised, not expecting smaller rodents to be the ones seeking his freedom, but the Verminkin steeled himself... Deceptive foes was not something he was unfamiliar with, though most of them sought to manipulate him emotionally rather than like... *This*... Whatever this was. 

He kept his knife raised and bared his long yellowed fangs at the raccoons, a clear attempt at intimidation... And a poor one too. 

"*Stay back, I am deadly-dangerous Rat! N-not afraid to kill-slay rodent-things with my blade-knife! I not steal-swipe anything, s-so you go and leave me-me alone, yes-yes?!*"
He asked, making more poor attempts at intimidation, whilst also displaying his obvious fear. 

His beady red eyes scanned the edge of the whole for any way out, he could try and dive for the key... But they'd be on him before he fit it in the lock, fighting his way out seemed impractical due to their numerical advantage, and he doubt bounty hunters would listen to his pleas and begging over the hefty reward they'd been offered. 
He was running out of options, only one provided any serious chance of escape, but he wanted to save it until he *Had* No other choice.
Love
The ninja seemed disappointed that Ratssnick chose to resist; none of the raccoons were particularly interested in beating up a humble inventor, regardless of whether or not he was actually guilty of stealing someone's inventions. In the hopes that some good, old-fashioned intimidation would inspire Ratssnick to give in. Without a word, the ninja retrieved his weapon from his belt: a curious instrument comprised of two short, weighted pieces of wood connected by a length of chain. Two other of the ebon-clad raccoons stepped forward, as well, both of them falling into fighting stances with pairs of thin batons.

"This is your final warning, tinkerer." The leader said as he readied his own weapon. "Come with us now or we will be forced to fight."
Santiago
Violence... It was a familiar concept to Ratssnick... If he ever failed or made a mistake, it would be there to 'correct' him, to remind him of the price... And if he were to go with these rodents, back to his masters manor, it would be a concept he'd never forget. 

'ⁿᵒᵗ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ'

He'd never breath fresh air, never see the moonlight, or squint at the bright sun, he'd never feel the heat, nor cooling wind, or taste the precious foods. 

'ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ'

He'd die in that chamber, at that crooked desk, surrounded by nothing but stone and brick. It'd be his fate... A fate he's fought tooth and claw to reject. 

A deep growl began to emanate from within the verminous inventor, his brow furrowed and his eyes clenched shut as the traumatic memories flooded his mind again, he dropped his rusted dagger and clamped his hands over his beady red eyes... Shielding them from the moonlight above... And yet still the growl grew louder and louder. 
Until eventually... *He let it out*...

"***𝑁𝐸𝑉𝐸𝑅－𝐸𝑉𝐸𝑅 𝐴𝐺𝐴𝐼𝑁!***" 
His squeaky voice cried out, and with staggering speed, his hands shot into his backpack. Slipping past the scrolls and tools within, and ripped out a strange contraption, ornately made out of silver. Then, with a vicious growl, he clutched the device in both his hands and pressed his thumbs down on a little button that decorated the top of the devices handle. 

At first the device only clicked, then... From its nozzle on the opposite side... A thick cloud of white mist shot forth. Sizzling as it spread through the air and filled the inside of the hole... Within seconds Ratssnick was gone from their sight... His body masked by the large, foul smelling, sizzling, and blinding cloud of white mist that now filled the hole and spilt out onto the surrounding ground.
Love
To say that Ratssnick's enemies were taken unaware would be an understatement, as the foul-smelling mist covered all ten of them in an instant. Thinking at first that the smoke was some sort of phosphorescent weapon, the ninjas immediately dropped to the ground and made sure to cover every part of themselves that they could; their wooden weapons clattered to the ground and, if Ratssnick was the sort to derive pleasure from the failure of his foes, then the surprised, terrified yips of the raccoons as they hurriedly tried to protect themselves would be enough to lift his spirits.

However, when the skin beneath their clothing and fur did not begin burning, the shinobi realized that they had not been attacked, but tricked! The tinkerer been looking to escape, not to kill. 

The leader of the band of ringtailed shadow warriors slowly stood up from his defensive curl and let out a few coughs to expel the pungent smoke from his lungs and nostrils as the rest of his clan collected themselves, as well. With a flurry of hand movements, he commanded his loyal subordinates to spread out around the surrounding area and search. Groups of two began to search the area, now ready to strike as soon as they saw the rat in case he had any more tricks up his sleeve.
Santiago
As the raccoons spread out, Ratssnick panted heavily from behind the safety of a moss-covered boulder only a stones throw away. The thick cloud having provided him the chance to leave the hole and take cover behind it. But, despite the apparent victory he had achieved, he was not foolish enough to believe his pursuers wouldn't soon discover him. So he had precious little time to waste. 

Fumbling about with his *Smoke-Cracker*, the silvery device he'd used to escape, he went about reloading the devices cartridge... Ejecting the spent ignition-shell from the nozzle before roughly stuffing a fully-loaded one in its place. After another second, spent twisting some knobs and locking parts in place, Ratssnick decided now was the time to make a move. 

A quick glance to his sides, confirming he wasn't discovered yet, then he bolted... Scurrying as fast as his little feet could carry him. Though he wished he could've been more subtle, as the loud clanking and clattering of metal on metal was far from sneaky, he had no such pleasure... Instead all he had was his device and his wits. These two things would need to last him until he made it to his backup safe house.
Love
Of course, for trained ninjas, the sound of Ratssnick bolting was all they needed to be back on his trail, once again. Knowing that all ten of them running directly behind the rat would deny them the advantages their training afforded them, the shinobi, in practically unfathomable display of understanding and determination to find their target, split up again, with five of their number taking to the trees while the others kept up the chase on the ground. Footsteps and the sound of rustling in the canopy could be heard as the ebon clad procyonids made their way ever closer to their mark.

Their athletic acumen and acrobatic skills serving them well, it didn't take long for a lucky shinobi in the treetops to finally match pace with Ratssnick. After a moment's planning to judge the true distance between himself and the tinkerer, the raccoon lept from his perch in the hopes to pin his target down. However, in this position, he was open to attack, should Ratssnick be ready with the Smoke-Cracker.