Animation vs. Rainimator (ft. AVA, AVM, Rainimator)

Chapter 13- The unexpected visitor

// POV 3rd person //

The continuing havoc was one of the greatest griefs of the Frostbourne army. Raining bombs, dynamites, and most significantly, lurid terror from above, commander Brots and his unbeatable bandits didn't stop their advance. 

Sir Brots was most renowned for his way of bribery, using all the gold he obtained from the Nether, to the bandits, who obviously chose materialism over justice. He was capable of evicting sir Daryll, the previous leader of the ferocious bandits, from his social position easily. 

For those who got caught red-handed, they were convicted as jailers, although all they yearned for was to abscond. Every women, men, the elderly, and the children received traumatic mental and physical torment.

For those who had the luck to deviate from distressing death or prison, they were either gravely burned or shot. They formed several minor troops, a coalition to defeat Brots's tyranny. Of course, they didn't last long. Not even a single, full hour.

And...

For those who lost their daylights of a fresh tomorrow, their remains were fed to the Tasmanian devils, scavengers who travel miles for rotten flesh, and one of the bandits' beloved pets of comfort.

Daryll paced back and forth, not wasting a single moment to solve this catastrophe. He spent most of his day stressing out, muttering words of self-abasement to nobody, a wave of shame and guilt flooding his mind. He, along with Patrick and Azura, got into a lively altercation. Well.. it was more similar to a yelling contest, yet with consistent attitude. Despite their honorable persistence, however, nor could he, or Azura, or Patrick unravel this insurgency.

Meanwhile, 4 of Alan Becker's stickmen eavesdropped on them, aware of their friends in a challenging situation. Sometimes hiding behind the door, sometimes pressing wine glasses against the wall, and sometimes forming a stickman tower, with Red always nagging to elevate even higher. Well, they obviously toppled over, yeeting Red to the broom closet across. 

They were in charge of keeping the trapdoor secure. It led to the ground above their level, which was their former most cozy dwelling. Every midnight, the fighting sticks would take a sneak peek through the door.

And every time they did, masked figures with brown leather vests would install 'WANTED' posters, mainly of black-and-white Daryll, Patrick, and Azura, on a tree trunk with duct tape. Then they would beat the blood out of any creature within their sight with their maces, so that they would be prepared if they encounter the Frostbourne trio. Snow rabbits, minks, squirrels, you name it. They were nothing like merciful humans we once thought they were. Red, who is a rabid animal lover, almost got the entire guarding operation busted because he wouldn't keep his big mouth shut. 

The sticks would furtively close the little door and follow the staircase down to the meeting room.

Then they would start on their 'overhearing conversations'.

//Blue's POV//  

It was midnight, when all our friends went to dreams they'll never think to reach, at least not in this warmongering world.

However, two friends, with the darkest of all baggy eyes I've ever seen, still didn't.

I was waiting outside for business. Not paperwork, or receiving calls from grouchy bosses. Real business. Ninja business. Action business. A.K.A. Eavesdropping.

The dim light shone through the windowpane of the rusty brown door. I hid right around the darkness of the corner. Maybe they won't mind such nosy people like us. But I know this warfare threw their minds into a big pool of mental breakdown. We all know, that we have to try to help.