Author:
Dakkan who also wants more
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Date Posted: 16:30:36 12/01/01 Sat
In reply to:
Silvershadow
's message, "fine you dolt! (ins)" on 14:45:17 11/27/01 Tue
>(I am in a revising/editing out bad
>stuff stage. I used to have some especially cruel
>slave scene, but they went bye bye!)
>
>Silvy’s Story
> It was a shadowy, chilling night. I remember my older
>brother had come into the house yelling and we all
>ran. I remember the sounds of voices, screaming and
>malicious laughter. My parents staying deathly silent
>as they ran from, at the time, I knew not what. The
>cold wind was on my face with the rest of me wrapped
>in both blanket and my father’s strong arms. The
>yelling and screaming from behind us grew ever louder
>and the next thing I remember was being ripped from my
>father’s grasp.
>I was born to a normal squirrel family, and was named
>Silvershadow, or Silvy. We lived in the average sized
>temporary camp, and that day we camped unaware of the
>nearby vermin castle. Two seasons after my birth was
>when the group was camped there, then raided by the
>horde of vile ferrets. They had taken all of the
>squirrels left alive into slavery and, being as cruel
>as they were separated families wherever possible.
>Instead of being a slave like most other beasts would
>have been (being the cutie that I was) I was favored
>by the young nieve, spoiled ferret princess, Umna.
>She took me as, almost, a daughter, but being a
>squirrel the ferrets never truly accepted me. She
>also gave me a new name, Mali.
>I did not know what the ferrets did was wrong, and I
>had no intention to stop the ferrets. They gave me
>food, toys, and a nice warm bed, and that was all I
>cared about. The young ferrets and I never saw the
>wars and battles the vermin army fought against my
>kind in other lands. We never saw the suffering of
>the slaves and the closest we ever got to war was
>older ferrets telling stories. We lived safely in the
>palace of the great horde, protected by hundreds of
>guards and a great, cold, green marble castle. I had
>my own private quarters and they called me a princess
>among the ferrets.
>My “grandfather” did not like the fact that his
>sensible first-born daughter had adopted me, who would
>be a slave, but he rarely expressed his dislike. What
>more could I ask for? I even had my own goodbeast
>slaves and I thought nothing of it. I occasionally
>got curious about why Umna never let my see the slave
>pens where the young ferrets went and tormented the
>poor slowly dying beasts, but she always came up with
>excuses good enough for a beast as young as me.
>One time when I was still new there I came across an’
>old squirrel house slave. She looked at me strangely,
>as if seeming to recognize. She started muttering
>things, I got scared of her, and I ran away. I asked
>Umna about it later, and she said, “Oh, Mali you
>strange little creature. Don’t pay attention to those
>stupid slaves.” With me accepting the explanation,
>the conversation ended there.
>As I got older, ferrets my age and I started training
>with old teachers things like the way to hold a sword
>and that we should exercise to become strong every
>day. It was hard for me (being a naturally delicate
>creature) and mostly easy for my ferret friends. This
>discouraged me and made me very angry at times. Once
>I told Umna, “I ‘ate this training whatnot. It is too
>‘ard fer me.”
>All Umna responded with was, “You will grow into it,”
>rather coldly.
>On my third birthday (the ferrets guessed it should be
>about time for one) I got a colossal surprise. Umna
>had sent me on an errand with a ferret named Bosto.
>It had been estimated that we had the same birthdays
>(since mine wasn’t truly known) and. when we got back
>there were our “family” standing in the middle of the
>dank entrance hall. There were mountains of presents
>for Bosto and great piles for me. Bosto opened his
>first and I opened my few second just like the 2 years
>before had been, but this year after I was done Umna’s
>twin brother who I was forced to call Uncle Umno said
>he had a surprise for me. I followed him to a back
>room. Sitting in the corner was a dark shape that I
>could hardly make out. When Umno bought in a light, I
>saw a huddled shape with silver-red fur like mine. He
>turned around and I saw his face. I looked down
>quizzically, and he looked rather recognizable, but
>then I looked around and saw all of my “relatives”
>staring at me so I decided I had better go.
>Umno said, “I found him in the slave pens and he said
>he could teach you the fine art of archery.” Then he
>whispered to Umna, “I always thought we needed a good
>squirrel spy on our side.”
>Umna elbowed him hard and exclaimed quietly, “All you
>ever worry about is tactics so you can be the victor
>of those confounded battles.”
>“Thanks Uncle Umno,” I said faking a smile.
>I told me to take the slave to one of the tiny house
>slave rooms and that my archery lessons would start
>tomorrow. I took the older squirrel to his cot in the
>house slave wing and got only a slight chance to talk.
>He touched the side of my face and said looking
>mystified, “Do you remember me?”
>“Not really,” I said nonchalantly. They had always
>taught me not to talk to slaves if I do not have to,
>and with that, I left the room.
>I went back down stairs to finish my birthday feast.
>I ate lovely honey on hard bread and the bird meat,
>not knowing that any decent goodbeast would die before
>they ate any meat besides seafood.
>Later that evening I went back to my slave’s room. He
>started talking like a crazy beast. He came up to me,
>and grabbed my hand and exclaimed, “Don’t you remember
>Silvy? I am Scuridae. Don’t you know? Sister,
>remember the camp, all the other squirrels.”
>“No, I don’t know what you are talking about, but you
>do look like I have seen you somewhere. Hmmm.” I
>replied.
>The young squirrel looked discouraged and muttered,
>“Get me some food, and I will explain on a full
>stomach.”
>I thought to myself ‘this will be an easy task’
>because Bosto, the other young ferrets, and I always
>snitched desserts from the kitchens. I ran down the
>many stairs and into the kitchen. Upon getting there,
>I smelt the ever-present smell of cooking meat, which,
>knowing no better smelt delicious, though nauseating
>other good beasts. I grabbed the first thing I could
>which was a roughly baked scone and ran back upstairs.
>The first thing I heard was Umna screaming, “You
>filth! Don’t ever let me catch you trying to run away
>again!” When I got to the top of the stairs, I found
>Umna pitilessly beating the poor squirrel with a cruel
>sounding whip. I hid the scone on the stairs and
>being extremely frightened of Umna at that moment just
>stood at the top of the stairs waiting for a lecture.
>Afterwards there was a long lecture for me about not
>locking doors, and she said she would have beaten me
>if I were older and was still learning the
>responsibility of keeping slaves. Saying that she
>could beat me scared me half to death for a long while
>afterward. She also added that she could beat any
>slaves for me, if I thought it would keep them well
>punished.
>I escorted the sorry-looking limp creature back to the
>slave room and gave him the scone and some water.
>“Sorry for Umna’s behavior” I said. “Why were you
>tryin’ ter git away, I mean you said you would explain
>and you called me sister.”
> He whispered, “Well, us slaves always try to escape,
>any chance we get, because any life in hiding is
>better than living as a slave like this. Thank you,
>for the vittles by the way”
>“What is your name? Where are you from? Why did you
>call me your sister? Why do we have the same color
>fur?”
>“Slow down Silvy,” he breathed.
>“Silvy?” I thought to myself, “that sounds familiar,”
>“I am Scuridae, Ye remember, I told you. Scurry ye
>called me. We are from the Camp Kitkitter. I am your
>brother, now my turn fer a question. ‘Ow come you
>weren’t sent to the slave pens with us?”
>“I don’t know,” I explained. “If you are my brother,
>where are mum and dad?” I asked.
>He said blatantly. “Mum an’ dad? They took me from
>them and put in a small young animal pen full of 20
>young male squirrels. We get one pot of porridge to
>share among all in my pen once a day. Every day we
>are the ones to go to the fields to harvest and plow
>for all of these lazy ferrets. There are a mole,
>hedgehog, vole and other beast pens. There are even
>rejected ferrets that work alongside us. If my
>compound does not work hard enough, by the time the
>inspector comes around we are all beaten and given no
>food. You must have a nice life up here, princess
>high and mighty!”
>“Like it up ‘ere. I get wot-ever I want winever I
>want. Let’s not argue, well, what should we do?”
>“I think we need to escape, and get ‘elp an’ free the
>slaves.”
>“’Ow you gunna do that! There are almost 500 of them
>and only two of us. And what if I don’ even want
>t’elp you. I like it up ‘ere.” I rebuked, because I
>did not like anyone bossing me around, even a long
>lost brother.
>“Ok, give me three days to convince you ‘ow ‘ard a
>slave life is from our point of view, and if I cannot
>convince you I don’ know who can.” He bartered.
>“Alright,” I said cheerfully. “Deal.”
>
>DAY 1
>
>I awoke early in my room in my comfortable crow
>feather bed. I went to Scuridae to start my
>"training". I walked in and my brother said,
>“Alright, today we will see the house slaves.” I
>agreed after demanding a guard to give me his keys, we
>started at the other rooms beside his. In the room to
>the right was an old hedgehog I remembered as one of
>the cooks shooing us away from the food. He was
>skinny, but less so than some of the other slaves.
>Surry walked up and said, “Hello, how are you dear
>sir?”
>The old hog jumped in surprise and asked in a rickety
>voice, “Who says so kind of words I have not heard in
>years,”
>“I do elder, and this is my sister, princess among
>ferrets.”
>“Huh? She is that squirrel that the old Umna took.
>What is she doing ‘ere the stuck up brat.” He said
>puzzled.
>Being very offended I was about to order him executed
>when Scurry said, “Well, keep this hush hush, but she
>may be your ticket out of here if I can convince her
>to help set you free. Do you have any particularly
>cruel stories that she may need to hear.”
>“Well,” the old thing said, “There are so many it is
>hard to pick one. Once I added a wee bit to much
>flower to a loaf of bread, and Umna did not like it.
>They tied me to a post for three days, with no food
>and soldiers beating me with the flats of their swords
>whenever they pleased. If I ever get out of these
>chains I will get my revenge on those soldiers!”
>The rest of that morning went the same. They were
>stories of absolute cruelty! My pitying side came
>out and I gave many of the most misfortunate some
>food. By lunch, the ferrets would be getting worried,
>so I whispered to Scurry that we had to go. I
>returned the keys, and to make the ferrets less
>suspicious we went to the courtyard and toyed around
>with a bow. It was awful, what the ferrets did. I
>would be have been convinced with just that half day,
>but Scuridae wanted me to endure it for helping punish
>these poor beasts and thinking nothing of it. My mind
>always went back to the stories I had heard from them.
> I could not preoccupy myself. It was horrid, and I
>had promoted it! After lunch, I convinced Scuridae
>into not making me go back. We had “bow and arrow”
>lessons for the rest of the afternoon, and I learned
>how to get an arrow loaded into the bow correctly.
>The next day Scurry forced me to take him to the
>field-slave pens to give some beasts some food, and to
>try to find mum an’ dad. So that we would not arouse
>suspicion, we left early.
>(I know, mid paragraph, but I told you I wasn't done!)
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