"This way!" The dwarf charged down the cellar, rounding a corner, "ratcatchers take the beet cellar, I'll head off the assault on the larder!"<br/><br/>The beet cellar was surprisingly roomy, the smell of earth and salt and preservatives and, of course, beets all around. There wasn't much time to appreciate it though, as<em>boomboomboom</em>, little showers of wood and stone exploded near ground-level, explosions creating tiny rat-holes out of which their enemy poured. The large black rats formed up into squadrons, each rat with a tiny cloth sash with three three-clawed prints embroidered on it. The squadrons in front wielded sabers that had more in common with carving-fork tines than actual swords, and the group could see out of the rat holes coming rat-sized cannons - possibly more fearsome than slingstones and at very least, thrice as loud.<br/><br/>"For queen and country!" the rats squeaked, a unified battle cry, "for cheese and crackers!"<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">OOC</div><div class="spoiler_body">Roll initiative! Squaring off against six rat squadrons.</div></div>