The Reaver of Underleaf

The following account was recorded by Historian of the Realm Rory Mustel and given by Thistle Farrier, age 57, lifelong resident of Underleaf clearing and eyewitness to the events described herein.
"Do I remember him? Of course I do, kid. The old acorn may be getting a little hazy, but some things you see...they stick with you. Whether you want them to or not. I was much younger then - my Leland was still with us, rest his soul. Underleaf was a different place in the Interbellum. It had been quite a while since we were ruled by anyone 'sides ourselves, but we heard the reports coming in from the West. Still weren't quite prepared for that day though."
"They came in about midday, looking like they'd been through Hell. Bedraggled, bloody, the weariness practically dripping off their sagging limbs. They were warriors, that much was clear - Eyrie conscripts by the look of their kit. Blasted birds have been dragging us 'inferior dirt-dwellers' into their conflicts long as anyone can remember. The possum wore his arm in a sling, seemed to favor his left leg as he walked. The badger had a nasty gash across the side of his face. The big fella, the rabbit, looked like someone worked him over pretty good - had a piece of his ear torn off. Something about that one though - he didn't seem as beat down as the other two. Had some kind of fire in his belly, something driving him forward. Probably had a lot to do with the way things turned out. Anyway, folks were so distracted by the sight that we didn't even notice the cats until they were all around us, circling 'em in. These were no ordinary Marquisate goons - something about 'em seemed so much more dangerous. Everything stood still for a moment - the tension so thick you could swim through it. Then it all exploded."
"The cats converged on the three of 'em like a tidal wave as townsfolk fled, dove for cover, or simply froze with shock. All you could hear was the clang of weapons, the grunts and screams of battle. That possum never even had a chance to draw his blade - they took him down quick. Couldn't keep track of the badger, but he was somewhere in the fray. All eyes were on that big rabbit though - plunged into the thick of those cat soldiers and fought with a ferocity no one in the clearing had ever seen. Seemed to shrug off hits as if he didn't feel them, that huge blade of his whirling and hacking away. I guess that explains the whole 'Reaver' thing, huh? It was like watchin' some awful machine mowing through grass. I have no idea how long it went on - seemed like an eternity, but it was most likely mere seconds. When the last of the screams died down, he was all that was left standing. Drenched with blood, eyes on fire, still ready for someone to come at him. Took him a minute to register when the badger called out to him and...sorry, this is the part that gives me the shivers. Yeah, I just need a minute."
"They stood there for a moment, staring at each other across all those torn up cats. The badger said something...none of us could hear what it was. The big fella just stood there silent, his eyes narrowed. He was on him faster than any of us could blink. That badger struggled to hold his own, furiously parrying that monstrous blade. There was a loud clang, and his axe goes sailing off into the distance. He dropped to one knee, hands out in surrender. That's when the rabbit ran him through."
"He drove him backward twenty or so feet, until they crashed into that big elm tree. Yes, the one over there. Badger was pinned to it through his belly by the rabbit's sword.I'll never forget the look of terror in his eyes. Rabbit stood back, produced a dagger from somewhere, and slit his throat. Never said a word."
"Needless to say, the rabbit didn't spend the night in Underleaf. It wasn't too difficult to read the horror on folks' faces. Oh, of course - some folk stood by, nodded grimly as he walked out toward the path to Warmbelly Hill. Not much affection for cat or bird soldiers around these parts, and those days the Resistance was even more covert than they are now. Will that do? Think nothing of it...we all have to do what we can to pass our stories on."

"That weren't no rabbit - it was a demon. He may have spared the town a few more cats, but I'll rest easier if I never see that one again."

"All's I know is, there are a lot of folks around these parts that understand that a lot of people got what was coming to 'em that day."