|David the Sting|
|Place of Origin: Unknown|
|Weapon: Bow and arrows, javelin, knife, blowpipe|
|Occupation: Wandering warrior|
|Fate: Unknown as of yet|
David the Sting was a mouse, a close friend of Brome's. He had come to Noonvale only two seasons after Martin the Warrior left, and it was the creatures there who endowed him with the title "the Sting." As a child, he had been raised by squirrels, and consequently could climb quite well. However, a Juska clan killed the squirrels and made David their Taggerung. He learned the art of tracking from a fox seer in the clan, and became quite astute at it, to the point where he managed to track and capture an otter in a river. However, the clan tried to make him torture the otter, and he refused and ran away with the fox seer.
In the woods, she was in the act of removing the Juska tattoos from their faces, when she attacked David for a reason unknown to him. They had both escaped alive, though little more could be said. David was left with a blue lightning bolt on his left cheek and a matching scar on his right. He was the first Taggerung, and the tradition was passed down from there.
After much wandering, David came to Noonvale. He might have settled down there and become a peaceful creature, if it were not for the rise of Cap'n Clogg. The stoat began to send scouts and messengers all over the land, and David and Brome privately wondered what he was up to. David followed one such group of scouts, mercenary foxes, but they lost him in northern Mossflower. Fortunately they returned the same way, and he followed them again, and managed to rescue Chugger, who was a captive of the foxes along with Columbine and Abbess Germaine, though he himself was injured in the process. The injury prevented him from following the foxes further, but he soon met up with Brome and brought him the news that Martin the Warrior was returning to the northlands.
Brome and David traveled straight north from Mossflower and arrived at Marshank, but the fortress was deserted. They elected to follow the tracks of Martin and his companions, though Brome did not seem to have any desire to catch up with them. Before long, however, the tracks led to a dead end; straight off a cliff.
They were left with little time to consider this, as several dozen rather angry adders attacked them at that moment.