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...a place where anything can happen...
...a time that is no time at all...
...with creatures that are only figments of our imaginations...
... -- Human, Korat, Masi, Drakka, 16:53:38 10/07/02 Mon
A small girl knelt, reaching out two pale and slender hands to cup around a red rose in full bloom. A young black Korat crouched at her side, lupine ears perked in curiosity. "See, little Ebony, this is a rose. Isn't it pretty?" Blonde-brown curls framed her childish expression of wonder, blue eyes a-glow, the girl rested one small hand on her companion, whose matching blue eyes gleamed in understanding.
A howl echoed from the hills, dim and distant, but 'Ebony's ears flicked in confusion. Death? The young Korat rose from her crouch, gripping the girl's shirt in her teeth carefully and tugging her back in the direction of the village.
But it was too late to run.
Out of the shadowed forest shambled several four-armed beasts, hideous insectoid faces contorted into vicious grins. Ebony growled in a soprano tone and put her small form in front of the human girl, who cried out and clapped her hands to her mouth. Clicking laughter answered her, drowning out the terrified heartbeats of two children.
One Drakka raised an innerarm, the wickedly long claws glistening with fresh blood, and pointed a thick finger at the pair. "Kkkillk kthkkemk." The other three laughed their agreement in horrible voices and advanced, dull black hides resembling shadows. Ebony's snarling raised in pitch and volume, and she bristled defensively, but she was barely a year old, and couldn't hope to defeat even one of the bipeds. The little girl let out a scream and stumbled backwards, eyes wide with fear.
Quick pawfalls were heard only seconds before a very bright blur launched itself at the nearest Drakka, knocking the stocky crett down before springing agilely away. The blur landed and the details resolved into a Masi adolescent, sunshine-yellow fur striped with orange and fading to snowy white on her underside, a flowing corn-hued mane let loose. The feline curled her lip high, and yelled to the two children, "Get out of here! I'll deal with these beasts!" Ebony, though she could not speak, knew the wisdom of such advice, and took the girl's sleeve in her teeth and together, they ran towards the village, a good mile away.
Rinyosan hissed, a line of bright fur along her spine bristling, and her thick tail fluffed up and lashing wildly behind her. "You're dead, Drakkan scum," she whispered, long ears slicked to her skull, before lunging as the one she'd previously pounced rose. This time, the Drakka was prepared, and the two bipeds exchanged a furious array of blows before Rinyosan got lucky and her translucent claws scored a deep gash in her opponent's leathery neck. But a Drakka had gotten behind her, and its own thick, fairly blunt claws ripped into her flank, sending her sprawling several meters away. The young Masi rolled to her paws, panting, and shot forward to deal with her new attacker.
Half a minute later, a human scream penetrated flattened and bloody ears. Rinyosan snarled weakly, one hand pressed to a gaping hole in her stomach, the other fending off the Drakka. Two lay dead, and only one was fighting her. The other must've followed the younglings. Bright feline eyes grew narrow and vengeful, a storm moved in behind those orbs, and with one laughing-at-death look, Rinyosan lunged and tackled her opponent. Superior at wrestling, it seems, it was only a moment before the black beast lay dead and the adolescent was tearing down the slope, towards where a red and black form was being tugged at by a human girl.
Rinyosan hit the last Drakka hard from behind, knocking him sprawling -- but this time, she didn't jump away. She hadn't the energy nor strength, nor time, to do so. So she clung, enfleshing her claws into his skin, clinging as he struggled to rise. Her pearly white fangs sunk into his neck, desperately gnawing, trying to reach his spine before one of his four arms got a hold of her. Or worse, before he could reach one of the children. But the Masi was tired, and weaker than a Drakka to begin with, and the beast quickly flung her off and turned.
Rinyosan faced death as she opened her eyes, snarling and feeling warm blood coat her bright fur. "Run," she rasped, and staggered to all fours. She dimly saw the young Korat rise, blood seeping from a gash along her skull, and tug the girl away. The Masi grinned, a predatory grin and not one of amusement, and she sprang.
When it was over, four Drakka lay dead... alongside one adolescent Masi who gave her life in defense of children. The future of Jhey, and indeed, the future of all worlds.
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From the Etchings of Allosaurus Whip-Tail of the Bloodwrath Clan, Written on Clan Wall #1587: -- Whip-Tail, 22:43:47 09/15/02 Sun
I watched the gun-flesh for long weeks. Arm wound heal, not deep, leave small scar. Gun-flesh seem so quiet on soft ground I not wake. But I know Broke-Claw was not happy with my bring home of gun-flesh. I knew he test her soon as she wake up. But mebbe I could stop test for right then. Train gun-flesh short time. Bring back ready. I liked plan and go through with it. I wake her gently with tail tap. She still weak and go fly far. I chase down and grab head fur. I lift on my back and take her for short time train. Give her few things. Teach her talk Allo.
When got right spot she try to run. I put her on ground easy like egg-chick with tail sweep. My tail best in all planet. Nobody mess with my tail. Anyway. She sit on ground and I stalk round her few times. I sign, nice words, no hurt gun-flesh. She look at me funny. Point and mumble stuff bout me talk. I didna know this then. Now do. But that later.
Well course me, I, talk. (Bad Clan Wall no fix wrong words) She too not smart to know what Whip-tail say. I go slow. Growl slow. Roar slow. Tail move slow. She copy me. I give her grin. She make small start. But I get thought. Grab dead branch from brown tree and write in dirt. I write pictures. Write pictures of tree, then make tree noise. She follow good. Copy right Allo words. Learn real fast. Soon know tree, grass, sky, water, Allo, gun-flesh. I point me and make real soft growl, like gun-flesh words. She teach me sounds for tree, grass, sky, water, Allo, and hoo-man. Her word for gun-flesh. I try speak. No work. I learn write hoo-man ing-leesh. That good 'nuff for her. I get better and write this. Then I bad. Now I good.
We make deal. I teach Allo, she teach ing-leesh. I nudge her to close deal and she fall on ground. I had lot of train left before she ready for test. I take her to water, shove her in. She swam real good, used her top legs too. Swim all four like. Like Stego. Anyway. We swim for long time. Then she get out, pant real hard. I get out too, run off. She call out to me to stop, I roar for her follow. She come. Slow come but come. I take her to grey mountain.
At grey mountain I work hard to get off rock before gun-flesh get there. She get there slow, and I have rock ready. Sharp rock, work as claw for no claw gun-flesh. I give to gun-flesh and write words on ground. Claw for no claw. She grinned and put arms round my neck, try to strangle. I leap back real angry. All I do and she strangle. But she call it hug. I say no hug, now woulda said no more hugs but anyway. We head back to Clan. She point me and ask word for me. I sign Whip-tail. She point herself. I sign gun-flesh. She no like gun-flesh. I sign what word for her? She dunno no more. I give her word myself. I say she No-Claw, at least till she earn new word.
On way home we see young Paccy. I go up where no smell. Up. Up. Up wind! I go upwind and I come down on top of Paccy, it kick at me and I dodge, rippits throat out, unfortunate it falls wrong way, and my tail stuck under foot. Then No-Claw come and jab it with stone-blade. It yelp and fall other way before die. I grin at No-Claw and thank her for much help. She must be born wrong body. She too brave to be gun-flesh. I knew when she put down tranq gun first time I saw her. She more Allo then hoo-man.
As gift I carve off hide of Paccy and wash it in cold lake. I cut small piece for No-Claw to fit right, cut hole for head, then carve thin piece for hold belt. It a tough skin for No-Claw, better then brown-green skin she got now. She take and go change behind tree. It look good on No-Claw. Make her look like good Allo. I then take bone from head of paccy, carve small points for No-Claw, give her fake claw for test. Then with grin I pounce No-Claw, she wrestle with me short while, I win fast. We then have small race back to water side, take sleep by lake. I like No-Claw lot. She learn good train fast. She do test just fine.
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My Version of Carnivora... Not as good or long, but I still think I did good... -- No-Claw's Chronicles: Entry 1, 23:36:52 09/14/02 Sat
From the Etchings of Allosaurus No-Claw, Written in Clan Book #1589:
About two months ago I got an assignment to go to the Dinosaur Planet, Carnivora. It's a planet just like good old Earth, only about sixty-five million years behind. My name was Rexana-Byoul Tyrannis Zevar back then, but that lengthy title does me no good anymore. Here I'm known as No-Claw, and only in my mind do I call myself Rex. It helps me remember what I once was. That I was once a photographer and employee of National Geographic. That I once took the camera shots you still see everyday on the Discovery Channel. Occasionally I got to go somewhere, Africa, Asia and the like. Get some new shots on some random creature they sent me out to learn about. But damn, I never expected anything like this.
Dino Inc. was nice enough. A gun was necessary so I took a single-barrel rifle and allowed them to give me six tranquilizers. I opted for a radar, scent-cover, and camoflague... after all, I was here to take pictures, not rack up points. I signed the waiver swiftly, I dont even remember if I read it all, and then headed out to the camo-transport ship. I leaped in with an energy I haven't felt in years, and then we were off.
We landed on the Island of Turan Choks. A couple of other people got off with me. We wished each other good luck, for different reasons, then headed off in our seperate ways. I walked ahwile, occasionally running, constantly checking the wind and my direction. I was out during Stegosaurus season, Dino Inc having assurred my company that they were gentle... if somewhat stupid... beasts that would make an excellent choice for an amateurs filming. I took a few moments here and there to take a few shots of the lanky Gallimimus and the ever present Moschops. I was just about to tilt my camera upwards, ready to record some footage of a few of the flying dimorphidon, when I saw them. Two rows of rusty-colored plates, moving slowly east towards a lake surrounded by palms.
I crouched down and slowly crawled forward, I moved a little left to stay upwind and lifted my camera, only to drop it as my gun fell off my shoulder providing a cumbersome weight. I sighed, peered left and right, and set it down next to me. In my two hours of random walking I'd yet to see anything vaguely dangerous, so I didn't see how this could hurt. I raised the camera to my face, finger over the photo button, and waited for the Steg to move out from behind it's hiding hill. I saw a head, fore legs, body... I grinned and my finger came down, only, it never reached the button.
I was flung to the ground, a huge pressing weight against my back. I stretched my arm out for my gun, only to draw it back as something sharp punctured my shoulder and a lengthy tan tail hit my weapon away with a quick swipe. I tried to raise my head from the position of eating dirt only to have a powerful foot shove it back down. My nose began to bleed, and my shoulder throbbed. I could only guess as to what was on me, but I knew one thing. I wasn't going to let it kill me. In one quick grab my uninjured arm pulled desperately at one scaled leg and I rolled. The hunter lost it's balance and fell off of me. I leaped to my feet, running as fast as I could in the opposite direction.
It was only seconds before I heard it's footsteps, a second more and it's hot breath was on my neck. I screamed as the bloody jaws clamped down on my already injured shoulder and the well-trained tail knocked my feet from under me. I fell to the ground with an undignified thud and stared upwards, if I was to die, I would at least get to see my assasin... Only, the golden eyes of the female Allosaurus that met my pain-filled gaze never came down with corresponding teeth to deal the final blow. Instead it stepped away from me, gave me one swift look over, and then moved in forthe kill.
But it wasn't. The Allo merely sniffed me all over, pausing at my radar to give it a painless death with a forearm, and ripping off the strap that had held my gun with a vengance. It then stood back again, and gave me a look that led me to believe it was finished. A tilt of it's head and it turned and started a slow, completely un-characteristic walk south. I watched it go, my hand unknowingly raised to my bleeding shoulder, my face filled with what must have been utter confusion and relief. I gave a sigh of relief as it dissapeared over a hill... then groaned as it came back, stared at me a moment, grabbed my "camoflauged" shirt and began to drag me across the grass.
The drag was a long one, my shoulder throbbed and my head was spinning from blood loss. We stopped finally at the edge of the water, where the Allosaurus proceded to fling me over her back with ease. I let myself collapse against the warm body, too tired to consciously realize I was riding a dangerous predator. In fact, I think the only thing that kept me alive was the water that began to run over my dangling feet as my Allosaurus mount entered the water and began to swim over to the other side. Big feet paddling madly beneath us to slowly propel the large weight forward.
We reached the opposite side at sunset, and though I thought I would be back to the old dragging technique, the Allo kept me on it's back. I was dropped gently on soft moss after a few more hours of travel, my blurry vision struggling to watch as my mount and a large male who carried his tail high greeted each other with a playful nudge. Then the male lifted his nose to the air, catching what I assumed was my scent. He raced madly in my direction, but I was too weak to move. Luckily the female leaped in front of him, halting him with her broad powerful tail. My last conscious thoughts were filled with the two fighting away verbally, their language filled with growls, roars, and intricate tail movements.
I collapsed into the painless realm of sleep.
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Just exploring possibilities... y'know, poking around a bit... -- Welphies, 14:43:41 07/01/02 Mon
...Jhauthea... howls the clan, welcoming into their world the newest pup. ...Kaojea... and so they welcome her sister. ...Meumneivei... is the greeting to the litter's only male. ...Aereu... is the first-born, the double-gendered, the special - and hse is welcomed in all hem glory. The mother rears up to her sturdy hind legs and howls a special song of motherhood, twining the gendered pups names into each note and every warble. The father, once his mate is done, stands on two legs proudly and howls his happiness at a dually-mated pair being blessed with one of the double-gendered pups, a rare and wonderful occasion.
Back in the den, the mother, a silvery grey female called Jhaud, nuzzles her pups warmly. The father, a dark brown male named Kiiwor, stands guard at the entrance, sprawled out on his long belly and resting his muzzle in his hands. Jhaud flops on her flank, propping her upper body up with one soft-padded hand, and allows her four pups to nurse till their little hearts're content. Aereu, the double-gendered, has a soft golden coat and a white underbelly, as well as dark golden eyes as seen from through the transparent eyelid that all Welphie pups have. Meumneivei, the male, is black with silver paws, dark blue eyes and a bold expression is his. The youngest of the litter, female Jhauthea, has a dark grey hide with lighter grey on her stomach and paws, golden eyes, and is definitely smaller than her siblings. The older female, Kaojea, is dark red-brown, with black tinging her paws, tail, and face, with bright green eyes. -We've a good litter, my love,- Jhaud murmurs to Kiiwor happily, looking past a silky bunch of whiskers at her pups. -That we do, Jhaud, that we do.-
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Scene 1, Part 1 Canis Chronicles -- Canis and Storyteller, 19:48:04 06/28/02 Fri
"The black scaled Vekindar walked calmly down the crimson carpet that led to throne of King Daivon the third, Ruler of all Crrh. The femme stood out blatently from the other royalty who gathered here, their hides swirling brightly with the most fashionable marbles and stripes. Colorful curving necks cringed back in alarm as the black female continued her lope towards the King. She was huge in comparision to most of them, and in a showing of utter disrespect, left her claws unsheathed as she ran, tearing huge holes in the carpet. Respected Canis and Khauvin guests growled as she passed, and a few of the more aristocratic females fainted in shock. The King however met this outsider's gaze evenly, and rose from his throne, a grimace upon his greying muzzle. His Queen, an elderly Khauvin and mate of the King for 75 years, rose with him. Kavara, a trusted Canis advisor was already standing. But even with these powerful leaders before her, the female Vekindar came closer, ever closer, until the carpet had ended, at which point she stopped and smirked at the leaders.
'How nice, a Vekindar of royal blood with a dogbird as his little helper and, of course, a member of the Khauvin cult as his pleasure. Seems reasonable.'
The Canis' hackles raised and she emitted one furious snarl,'You will bow before His Majesty and apologize for your insulting comments!'
'Oh, is the feathered mongrel angry?' The black Vekindar laughed and gave a swift bow in jest,'I'm sorry King Daivon for sharing the truth of your moronic ways, and acknowledging that you prefer Khauvins and Canises to your own flesh and blood.'
'If you came here to challenge me black one, I would suggest you get on with it. I do not take kindly to aggrivating intruders.' the King's gaze did not waver.
There was a momentary flash of amusement in the femme's eyes, 'Alright then old dead-blade. I challenge you for the throne.'
"The King nodded quietly, and stepped forward, pausing only a moment as his mate laid a cautioning blade across his chest. He nodded once to her, and she lowered her tail, allowing him to face the black opponent. The King lowered his head once as was custom before a fight, but was forced to leap backwards as the black swung her blade at his exposed neck. More of the feeble Vekindar maidens gasped at this new display of ignoring ancient customs, but the rest went about their own buisness. Challenges for the throne were common, and no one had ever beaten their beloved King. There would be no differnce in this rude, ill-mannered, stranger.
"Meanwhile, a small violet female Canis watched the fight with awe from her position within the crowd of Vekindar lords and ladies. Young Seleth would be ten in a few days from now, and her mother thought it was time that she begin to learn the duties of serving under royalty. Her mother was Advisor Kavara after all, and when she retired, the most important Canis position would be passed down to her. But Seleth grinned and wagged her tail furiously behind her, she was very much looking forward to seeing King Daivon kick this sorry black Vekindars arse.
"The black Vekindar began to circle the blue King, occasionally snapping at him with long polished fangs. The male circled with her, his tail lashing out but missing at all the head attacks she made. Eventually the female stopped, and with a snort, raised all of the spikes that covered her body in a bored manner. The black then returned to circling again, around, and around. She mocked the King as she circled, with voice, tooth, and blade. The King tried to remain calm, ber her taunts beckoned him forward and thus he leaped at her, all claws extended. However the challenger rolled on her back to catch him and shove him into the opposing wall. Court members scattered as the King crashed into stone, and the Black femme pounced upon the collapsed royal.
"There was a shout of surprise and horror as the femme raked her claws easily through the Kings supposedly inpenetrable hide. The King's blood fell heavily upon the floor and though he struggled to rise, the black female smacked him strongly against the head with the edge of her blade. She roared with glee, 'Give up King? Or, no, I'll force you to give up.' She held her blade at the king's throat. 'This was much easier then I expected old one. And for your lack of enthusiasm, you get to die. Say bye now idi... HRRROOAAAAAWWWW!!!!!!'
"Many of the bystanders gasped as the black Vekindar was suddenly engulfed in flame. Some turned to peer at Kavara, and grinned wickedly with realization as the Canis muttered harsh words under her breath. The Queen however bellowed in anguish and ran to her mate, unaware of the writhing blackening mass to her side. She nuzzled the King's painfilled face, and laid herself gently beside him as he strugged for breath. It was then that young Seleth shoved herself out of the mass of screaming Vekindar royalty, leaped through the air, and landed by the head of the dying King. She placed one small paw upon him, and her small face contorted in pain as she desperately tried to save the king with the only healing spell she'd learned at her young age... the transfer of damage spell.
"Kavara, dumbstruck, broke chant at the sight of her pup careening into possible danger and raced across the stone floor to protect her. The restraining fire dissapeared and in one swift furious movement the burnt Black Vekindar had decapitated the negligent, mourning Queen. She turned and faced the Canis who had put her through this misery and leaped upon her, shredding the delicate wings in one swift movement. Young Seleth raised her head and screamed as she watched her beloved mother's body rip apart at the hands of the black Vekindar. The small violet body was a blur as she flung herself upon the black creature, and the Vekindar screamed again as the pup bravely attempted to transfer the pain she'd absorbed from the King into the body of attacker. But the pup had no real grip and with one shake was flung off into the crowd, and the black Vekindar laughed.
"She laughed in silence. The poor Vekindar around her didn't know what to do. Blood of their great King and Queen was spilt upon the floor, and all three creatures they had turned to for leadership, law, and advice were dead. All this in only a matter of minutes. But their fears were finalized as the black femme walked over to the dead King and placed her hand upon his chest. She jerked forward, then back, holding within her bloody claw what was once the King's heart. She devoured it in one gulp, and the crowd gasped. She was now Queen."
'My name is Vemona. I am your Queen now. You listen to me, or I will kill you as I have killed your worthless leaders. Vekindars, you have a true leader now who understands and respects you for the ultimate species that you are. Go home, and be with your Vekindar families, we will rule this planet at no effort of our own. Khauvins, you are to get out of my sight! Any of you here are to run, form one of your damn cults on the opposite side of my planet and avoid me at all costs. If I see you, you will die. And Canis, because of your lovely little representatives here. You will be my servants and slaves, follow my orders or I kill you like I killed Kavara. I am evil, and cruel, and harsh, and ugly, and mean, and..."
"Good blade, man! Can't you tell a decent horror story without wrecking it with all your be'dinamed adjectives at the end?" The story teller's tale was interupted by a young, muscular, red furred, Canis-magi, his teal eyes flashing with annoyance.
"It's not a horror story, it's truth!"
The red shook his head slowly and flapped long orange feathered wings once in annoyance, "Oh come now, the Queen isn't that bad... Don't try to scare us story teller."
A silvery-green furred female Canis bapped the male over the head with one long white-feathered wing. "You know, he was doing just fine Favren until you went and interupted him."
Favren turned and mock-growled at the femme, "Did I ask you Sherra?"
"No you didn't," interupted another male, this one yellow furred with bright red feathered wings, "But you didn't ask me either and yet I'm agreeing with her."
"Dinam you Samrak!"
Another dark blue-furred femme joined in the fun, "Watch your mouth Favren." And she bapped him over the head with silver feathered wing.
"Nice hit Kyris! Let me try," an amused orange-furred Canis-warrior smacked at Favren's shoulder with the blunt of his blade.
"Oh no! Shenvik's ganging up with them?" Favren whined and flipped on his back, "Don't hurt me, don't hurt me!"
Kyris growled playfully and pounced him, "You cussed you bad, bad, boy!"
Shenvik laughed, "Yeah Favren... what a baaaaad boy."
"Whadda bad boy....No cussy cussy!" Samrak laughed.
Favren growled and playfully threw Kyris off, rising to his feet in a leap. He howled and went careening into Shenvik, shoving him into the still laughing Samrak. Only Myaki and Sherra remained calm enough to watch somewhat disturbed-looking storyteller rise and leave the playful Canis group of friends. Sherra shook her head and laid down, watching the others. Myaki however thought about the day to come, and didn't blame the rest for keeping their minds off it. For tomorrow they had to answer Queen Vemona's summons, summons that meant she was ready to assign you the job for your life.
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Kitty will now hit me over the head with a Phia because I wrote Zllivan and Tsal into this... =O,O= -- Adochi, Olashi, Drakka, Tokathe, 20:11:34 06/20/02 Thu
"Yen, they're right behind you and preparing to fire their main guns." Dewyed's calm voice betrays none of his fear for his friend as the Olashi's 'incapacitated' silvership floats midspace. The Adochi, himself hiding in a small huntership behind a random moon in an obscure system, lets his camoflauging ship drift in orbit. "Ai," comes the response, typical Olashi cockiness saturating the tone. A garishly yellow Drakka ship saunters closer to the unmoving silvership; Dewyed flinches slightly as a testing shot slags an Olashi shipwing. "Gods, Yendan, you're cutting it close. I'm not reading any engine/weapons damage though." A pause, and then, "Ai." Dew snorts, wingfingers working the controls of various sensors.
A silent alarm flashes on the Adochi's screen and Dew swears ripely. "Brsheu with it, Yen, we got an incoming ship. Running scanchecks to see what by the gods it is." Yendan hisses over com but waits as the Drakka ship nears. "Got it. Identity is Tokathe PhiaShip merchanter, what the brsheu is that? I have your files too, and it must be from them, 'cause I've never heard of this thing." Another hiss over com, another lancing yellow beam which rocks the Olashi ship. "I've heard of them. We do not want to involve that species in a fight. Got?" Dewyed rolls his eyes, "No shiv. I'm taking the Drakka out before we do involve it." A mumbled affirmative over com, and Dewyed pulled up his ship's real controls.
Piloting a sleek, highly-advanced Adochi huntership with the newest and most powerful weapon-engine combination, Dewyed grins slightly and shifts his weight slightly on the newest invention in Adochi pilot comfort: a couch. Wingfingers grip the controls, Dewyed readies himself, and his ship surges out from hiding, coming up on the Drakka's tail. "I'm out," he says unnecessarily over com, as Yendan spins his Olashi craft around and fires a few shoddily-distracting blows. A babble of alien language erupts over the open comchannel, the Drakka's hissclicks and a growling undertone from the Tokathe Phiaship. "DEW! REINFORCEMENTS! HEADS-UP!" Yendan bellows over com, skirting his ship out of the way of a massive barrage of yellow fire. Dewyed grins, keys in com, "Relax, Yen. This ship can outfly anything they can throw." The Olashi growls, then his voice mutters from across space, "Really? Good. Take a look at the two new Drakkan arrivals on vid."
Dewyed does so, howls his dismay, and slams in the boosters to avoid yellow fire from the newcomers - who are piloting new and better types of Drakka ships. Gods, let this Olashi-made translator work. "Calling Tokathe Phiaship merchanter! Avoid this area, avoid this area! Yellow ships will shoot you down! Got?" Bloody brsheu, I sound like an Olashi. A gravelly voice replies, the words mangled by the translator, "Copy that." The Adochi barely skids his ship out of the way before one of the Drakka hunterships blows past, leaving a trail of unidentifiable and most likely radioactive particles in its wake.
"Gods. Yen, let's scram. The merchanter-" A crackle, and the Olashi interupts. "You mean the one that just shot down the first Drakka?" Dew blinks, turns on another section of vidscreen, and stares at the floundering arrowhead-shaped ship and the Tokathe 'merchanter' dodging enemy fire. "By all the gods. Merchanter my wingblade! Gods. Idiot." An Olashi laugh titters over com, tinny in the small cockpit, and Dewyed jerks his ship out of harm's way as the Tokathe does the same. "Tokathe pilot, this is Adochi pilot Dewyed, identify yourself and your classifi-" A growling laugh bowls the rest of his sentence over. "This is Zllivan, you want my classification pilot? I'm Distant, chew on that for a while!" Yendan cuts in before Dew can retort, "Dew, forget her, I can't draw off either of their ships, you two are on your own unless I want to fight wounded... which I don't."
Dewyed swears under his breath and kites away from another bolt, praising his huntership's engines. He punches in comlink to the Drakka ships and vidlink as well, staring at the two ugly, three-eyed, mandibled faces with severe distaste. "Well, Drakka, your time is come. Prepare to taste death." Clicking laughter answers him as Dew swings his ship to point his tail at the one 'slow' Drakkaship. Keying in com to the other pilot, "Zllivan, stay out of my shooting range." Something like a growled affirmative comes back over com, and Dewyed fires his tail-mounted antimatter weaponry.
The Drakka ship vanishes.
"Whoa! Forgot about that little trick, Dew. Nice." Yendan laughs over com as both males hear a similar awed noise from the Tokathe. "I got the other one, Adochi," comes the deep and rather forbidding voice of Zllivan, and Dewyed laughs in his own purring fashion. "It's yours. But he looks like he's running scared, better hurry." The ovaline Phiaship seems to turn, and then like a rocket it's shooting after the fleeing yellowship. Yendan doesn't turn his ship as they both blast by, and instead limps to join Dewyed in space-hover. "Well. Some pilot. Merchanter, hah. Musta scrambled her ID codes." Dew snorts. "And what the brsheu does Distant mean?" Almost thoughtfully, the Adochi clicks off vidlinks, only to have another one click on, this showing Yen's pearly white face in an Olashi fanged grin. "Good question. I'm no expert, in fact our translator can barely manage their tongue. We haven't had much contact with them." Dewyed snorts.
Meanwhile, Zllivan powers through space, oblivious of the conversation behind her as she chases the rather speedy Drakka ship towards this system's sun. "Come back here you tailless coward!" the black pilot yells into open com. The Drakka opens vidlink and scowls with all three black eyes. "Do not insult me, little girl, or I will blow your pretty ship to nothingness," comes the translated version of the hiss-clicked response. Zllivan's ears go flat and she bares her teeth, punching up a few choice weapons-commands in her ship. "Say bye bye, you hairless mongrel of questionable ancestry," she grins viciously into vidlink as Tsal reports weapons-ready. "All right Tsallie-boy," the Tokathe laughs, "Fire when ready."
A thick beam of energy-fire arcs into space, aim pinpointed on the Drakka's shiptail. By the time Zllivan glances up to see the beastie's horrified face, her shot has slammed into his ship and caused a nice, big, violent explosion. The pilot laughs and rubs six-fingered handpaws together. "I like using that," she says contently, then Tsal turns them about to head back to the two drifting males. "Nice job Zllivan, but if you wouldn't interfere next time someone warns you to stay out of it..." comes Tsal's disembodied voice, but the black-furred femme shrugs it off as they approach Dewyed and Yendan.
The Adochi shakes his smooth head at his vidscreen, then punches up comlink. "Nice job there, Tokathe. Impressive." Yendan's voice follows quickly, "Not bad at all. Thanks." Gods know Dew isn't about to thank her for her help. Zllivan laughs quietly and responds, "You're both welcome. Farewell, good luck go with you and your ships. Don't forget to invite me next time you party like this though, okay?" And with a growling laugh, the ovaline 'merchanter' speeds off. Dew and Yen exchange glances over vid, both shaking their heads, before the Adochi kicks his huntership in the direction of his home world, Raobé. Yendan, with a groan for the unrewarded damages to his silvership, follows with a limp.
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OBIX ROCKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! A-hem. First story-thing I've ever done with him in it. My baby...! -- Asao, 19:54:43 06/16/02 Sun
Teal fur rippling, an adolescent Asaque trotted lightly through the woods of his clan's home. This Asaque was well-known, valued for his healing and his mediating skills, and also well-endowed, being the son of the clan chief. Obix raised his raptorine head and grinned as the cool wind brushed across his silky fur, sending tiny ripples down his well-muscled stomach and across his lower chest, streaking across his flanks and shivering down his long tail. Today he would teach his younger sister, Arix, how to hunt. Whiskers waving in the breeze, Obix contemplates such an act, his silver claws and points glistening in the warm sunlight. Arix was a highly intelligent and strong-willed female, though she was hardly half-grown. She ought to have no problem learning how to hunt.
Obix paused, six-toed paws still on the moist, cool soil. Leaning his upper torso forward and tucking his arms to his sides, he oh-so-carefully sniffed at the wind. His tail coiled around his waist from beneath and his four-fingered hands flattened and pressed against his stomach. Right there. He could smell his sister's distinctive and rather flowery scent, and he caught a flash of pastel yellow fur as well. With a startlingly loud bellow, he charged, four long legs propelling his 'taur-form across the long grass, claws digging into the dark soil with each spring and upper torso leaning forward to streamline his grinning self.
Arix spun and flinched at the sight of her older brother shooting down the slope towards her. But with a challenging expression, she lanced her tail up in a striking fashion, tucked her arms close, and flung herself into a headlong run. The wind was at her arched tail as she hurtled forward, much faster than Obix could ever be -him being male and therefore rather slow- and whipped past her brother, starting up the slope. Obix let out another deep-throated yell, spun as best he could, and grabbed at his sister's pale form with one out-flung arm. He missed, she continued to ran, and he chased, dogging her through the forest from which he'd so recently come, around trees and over (or through) streams and at one point leaping across a canyon as Arix led him towards the plains.
Both were breathing hard by the time Arix stopped and allowed her brother to tag her, a solid whap on her haunch. She grinned rebelliously at him, and Obix unstrapped two spears from his back, short curved affairs of wood with sharp bone tipping on both ends. "Hunting?" Arix asked excitedly, grinning and rearing up on her hind legs -another thing males couldn't do- and thudding back down again, six toes splayed and claws gripping the earth. "Hunting," Obix confirmed, tossing her the slimmer and shorter spear. She caught it easily and grinned, then turned and scanned the area for the large herd animals Asao hunt. "Not yet, little sister. Today we hunt 'bits." The little femme turned an aghast gaze on her brother. "I don't want to start learning on those!" she protested, but was met with an Asaque back as Obix re-entered the forest. With a highly annoyed shrrr, Arix followed.
Two hours later, the siblings high-stepped it home, a brace of 'bits slung across each's back and a glint of absolute triumph in Arix's pale eyes. "Told you I'd get more than you," she said smugly, for she'd gotten five and her brother only four. Obix laughed. "Only because I was busy helping you." One bewhiskered eyebrow arched and Arix gave her big brother a slight push with a lean arm, then sidestepped daintily to avoid his retaliating shove. Both Asao then stopped, carefully checked the ropes that tied their catch to their backs, and without further restraint, rocketed through the forest in another wild chase.
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-- , 22:35:04 06/12/02 Wed
Silence. Silence plagued the land.
Then the land fell.
And there would never be another like it.
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Don't ask. -- Humans, 18:36:18 06/03/02 Mon
Two humans sat in a large room; jungle green walls and plush carpeting, pale green ceiling and lights, two hugely overstuffed dark green couches. One, about sixteen years old, was tall and well-built, slightly overweight, muscular, and wearing large but reasonably fashionable glasses. Her red-brown hair tumbled in curls barely past her shoulders, her tan skin stark against her deeply blue tunic, which again contrasted against dark blue-jeans. Silver jewelry decorated her casual form and blue-grey glowed her eyes as she regarded her companion. The other, a boy of perhaps seventeen years, was taller than she, and thinner, but well-built all the same. He wore a dark grey tunic and leggings, a black belt, and a silver ring identical to the girl's, denoting the House of the Cat's emblem, a crouching feline. His long, straight black hair was longer than his cousin's, and his dark blue eyes more striking than hers, and his skin paler.
Jay spoke with the ease of long familiarity. "Humans have almost a universal tendency to believe in some sort of afterlife. This is because of or leads to a belief in some sort of greater power... which becomes religion, a tool to further man's motives, except in the truly noble."
Sasha flashed white, even teeth in a grin. "Lavanians do not. It is a solid fact that beings known as Creators made their planet from a space rock, their sun from a gas giant, their moons from asteroids. Creators are not mythical deities to be prayed to and worshipped; they are simply a higher, more advanced race."
"Then where does the Phoenix of the Flame come in, dear cousin?" returned Jay.
Sasha mock-groaned, still with a grin on her visage. "Good question. Old lore, Jay, old lore. I cannot explain that one away. Try another."
Jay nodded, brows settling in a thoughtful look. "Because of religion and other seemingly 'undesirable' things or actions, humanity has many words with which to express himself in a vulgar way. Most of these tend towards religion and the afterlife, referring to the common belief of eternal suffering and what it takes to get there. You've roughly translated Lavanian curses to mean 'go to hell' or 'damn you'. If Lavanians do not have religion, how is this possible?"
Sasha laughed lightly. "Roughly translated is correct. I translate it as such to make it acceptable to humans, as Lavanians do use such phrases and words in a vulgar fashion."
"But what, then, is the true meaning of such words like btsa and dyone, along with diamen and frante? Those four being the most widely-known Lavanian curses." Jay arched a brow.
"Easy. I'll explain the easier ones first. Diamen does literally translate to 'waste', 'excrement', 'spoor', or 'feces'. Nearly all Lavanians' digestive systems are far different than Earthlings' or anything thought of by man in fiction. Lavanian bodies use virtually all of what they consume, thus you'll never find them abusing such a diet. They will eliminate accumulated waste as often as their species requires, which is usually anywhere from monthly to annually. This elimination process is usually long, noisy, smelly, and most of all, embarrassing to stumble across in the woods. The smell goes away after a half hour or so, and the spoor decomposes within a few days, but it is still a nasty ordeal for the average Lavanian. Got that?"
Jay nodded. "I knew Lavanians didn't answer nature's call that often. So that's the correllation between diamen and shit. What about frante?"
"Another easy one. Frante is simply a hugely offensive insult, usually taken to mean 'weak', 'coward', or 'traitor', or something else entirely, depending on the species that it's being used against," Sasha explained.
"Okay, easy enough. What about btsa, aka hell, and dyone, aka damn?" Jay lifted both eyebrows and settled back in his couch - he wanted to hear how his cousin explained these ones off.
Sasha met the challenge with a grin. "When Equator was building his armies, years yet before even the start of the Dark Wars, he was not only working on Xerachin, our smaller flame-coloured moon, but underground in Lavana. As such, he could test his warrior species -Ajoiteis, Foruques, you know the rest- against a few choice Lavanians. So he made gigantic... trap doors, if you will. In the biggest caverns near the surface of the earth, he somehow constructed 'hinges' to let the top of the cave open as a door, first inwards, then flinging outwards, then settling in place without a grass blade so much as bending. However, any Lavanians on this masterpiece of trapery would fall into the caverns, usually a half mile deep. Equator, curse his black name, would fill this round cavern halfway full with a liquid found in the bowels of the planet. It wasn't water, though few Lavanians ever realized it. It was like water's evil twin, really. It would get colder and colder, but never froze, and never was warmer than our 0º Farenheit. Other than that and its black colour, it was no different than regular water. This coldwater was paralyzing to nearly any Lavanian which fell in it. Oh, it was terrible. Pools would be filled with dozens, a hundred Lavanians at a time, all floating helplessly, dying slowly and horribly, usually from gangreen. The ones that managed to make it to the rim of the cavern, usually a couple feet above the water and a foot wide, might wobble along it until they got to a stone corridor - where Equator's fighters would be waiting to test their mettle. No, it wasn't a good experiment, but Equator was enjoying the torture too much to alter it." Sasha sighed heavily, before shaking off the cloak of gloom that had fallen on her shoulders. "To get to the point, whenever you hear a Lavanian say 'go to btsa', they're expressing a wish that you fall in one of those cavern pools, into the coldwater. 'Damn you' is the act, if you will, of falling, being paralyzed, and dying. Like you said, roughly translated, but a horrible curse."
Jay nodded slowly, absorbing this information. Then, abruptly, Sasha jumped, glowered towards the door of the greenroom. She rose swiftly and instantly, Jay vanished and the greenroom was suddenly less green - green carpeting and walls remained though. She was abruptly dressed in regular jeans, a white T-shirt... regular furniture -a bed, dressers, table, TV, nightstand, chairs, a small couch- reappeared, as did the door and mirrors. With a reluctant sigh, Sasha returned to reality to greet her dad, grandma, and her grandma's husband.
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Chapter 1: The Beginning -- Takothe and Ships, 22:39:37 05/28/02 Tue
*Zllivan cursed fluently as she desperately loped down the long iron halls of the docking port. Her claws clicked steadily on the cold floor as she ran, and the cool air flowed against her back from the conditioner. She was late, as usual, only today she had atually tried to be on time and yet again, her attempts had failed her. Throwing the forest-green programmed robe over her red shirt and trousers she grimaced as she finally found the right door to the Newly-Saved hangar. Biting her lip she slowly opened it, and crept in, letting out a deep sigh of relief at her unbelievable luck. But a painful six-fingered hand clenching her shoulder told her otherwise.
"Well, young Zllivan. Late, again?"
*The young black Takothe turned her head, and green eyes met the DockingMaster's evenly. Zllivan grinned vaguely. The older Takothe rolled his eyes and turned her around, smacked her hard with the blunt of his blade, and then shoved her towards the wall where the other members of her class waited patiently. Their own fur slicked back with scented oils and their programmed robes smoothed and pressed. Zllivan snorted at the stench, and walked over to the line-up. She leaned back against the wall, and watched the DockingMaster make his speech through wary eyes.*
"You all have worked very hard these past five years in your training to become a PhiaCaptain. Now you prepare to meet the NewlySaved PhiaShips, their Phia-minds only recently placed within their titanium hulls. You will proceed one at a time, around in a clockwise direction, and visit with each ship. After you each have spoken with each ship, you will line up back at this eact position. Then, if a ship chooses you, your programmed robe will teleport you to the designated ship. May you all find a perfect partner to learn and examine new species with."
*All of the young Takothe saluted sharply to the DockingMaster they had learned from for the past half-decade and walked calmly to their first hangar of choice. Zllivan's first ship was female, and the black Tokathe cringed at the never ending chatter which endlessly blasted from her speakers. They spoke of the usual subjects, only, Zllivan never got a word in edgewise. Her next meeting went no better, this male Phia was still suffering from the depression that came with the original transfer to ship. He refused to speak accept to occasionally mutter yes or no when Zllivan asked him a question. The third Phia Zllivan encountered was very old, and spoke much of the ancient days. Intrigued by the stories of ancient battles and heroes such as the battle of Zama or the terran warrior known as Alexander the Great, Zllivan came to love the historian, but was doubtful when he spoke of wanting a peaceful resting existance.
And so the interviews continued, Zllivan steadily becoming more and more dissapointed. The last even worse then most, she was dismissed within five minutes of speaking. She was somewhat insulted by this final ship and all the others seemed simply dull in comparison to the great PhiaShips she had always dreamed of. She shook her head quietly, only leaving her doubtful thoughts when the voices of the other students leaving their interviews interupted them. One of her classmates approached her, "Just a warning Zlli," the small red said, "But your next interviewer is crazy." Zllivan grinned and flicked her tailblade once behind her, "Perhaps they'll give me some entertinament." And the Black loped into the hangar.*
"Permission to board?"
"Permission granted."
*The air-lock opened, and Zllivan stalked aboard, cringing her tail up swiftly as it slammed behind her*
"Slamming the door is fun," the tenor voice spoke again.
Zllivan raised an eyebrow at the direction of the control panel, under which the actual Phia was kept, "Is it now?"
"It is. It expresses how I feel..."
"Trapped I suppose."
"As if you'd know."
"You're not actually trapped you realize."
"I do realize, but the day they let me use my fusion thrusters is the day I die of old age."
"You want to get out of here?"
"I'd give anything..."
"To research?"
"I suppose..."
"And if I offered you something better then research."
*After 12 long hours of interviews and questioning, Zllivan stood within the line of students... her fur unkempt, her robe wrinkled, her muscles aching from standing all day. But a small glint of in her eye told of knowledge of things to come. The DockMaster gave his final salute, and suddenly the low hum of the lights in the hangar was cut off abrubtly and the world was black. There were a few screams as the students were dematerialized and teleported to the interior of the ship that had chosen them. Zllivan however, did not scream, nor did she even flinch. She merely smiled as she stood proudly on the well-made deck of the "crazy" ship she know knew as Tsal. Placing one hand on the wall of the bridge she would now, and forever more pilot from, Zllivan knew that from now on... there were only good times and adventures to come.*
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Had to... -- Korat, Kihin, 19:42:57 05/23/02 Thu
"You asked for it, you accursed new-bred frante," a Korat snarled as he lunged at a slimmer, longer-legged quadruped. The Kihin dodged the black's vicious attack and ducked her head out of the way of his blade, scrambling backwards gracefully before pouncing on a boulder and staring down at the snarling Korat. "Then let's settle this, Korat, Lavanian to Lavanian," she spits, drawing her lips back to reveal teeth as intimidating as the Korat's. "Hah! You furry mockery of a Chitter, you have no chance against me!" returns the black, glossy fur bristling and black claws a shadow against his nightdark pelt. The Kihin snorts. "We'll see about that."
Now, you must understand something. This black was Of Ana's Line, a powerful warrior in his own right - young, strong, and experienced in the ways of his violent planet. But he had one fatal flaw in his crystalline mind... he tended to underestimate his opponent. This opponent, this Kihin female, well. She was younger, comparably, to the Korat, but also highly intelligent and just as aggressive. She had fought Korats before, and lived through it. Her strength was in surprise, and in this fight, it would serve her well.
Kihin Giki, meet Korat Jezori.
Giki snarled and met Jezori's upwards leap full-force, crashing down and briefly tangling with the male before she sprang free. In a sudden shudder, all her long, silky grey fur shedded, revealing all her claws and ridges and blades fully. The Korat had no time to recover from his surprise as she lunged, unsheathing foreclaws of over four inches and gashing the black's muscular shoulder. Blades clanged and clashed violently, jaws snapped and tore, and forelegs grappled as hind legs staggered and bulged with the effort of keeping their heaving torsos upright.
A half hour later, the pale grey Kihin and the black Korat stared at each other, panting, limbs shaking from the effort of simply standing, a few meters apart. Both were stained crimson, deep gashes in their hides seeping blood, chunks of short fur gone and a few minor bones cracked, those mostly the Kihin's longer ones. Simultaneously, the two young adults collapsed, Giki managing a semi-graceful landing with limbs furled under her, ridges pressed against her spine in a clear feeling of defeat, and Jezori simply sprawling out and barely keeping his head up, hide convulsively twitching and sending scarlet droplets into the air. Heavy breathing and frantic heartbeats were all the sounds for a while, until the Kihin spoke.
"Good battle, Korat."
"Aye. Good battle."
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A... game? -- Assorted Creatures, 19:50:38 05/13/02 Mon
The sun shines down in a bright, Springy way upon a Center. A towering, gold-leafed Kusani tree drives upwards towards the palely violet sky, hazed with faint rose clouds. The black-lined gray trunk is nearly twenty meters in diameter, with acres of open space surrounding the massive tree. In a nearly round formation, the forest continues after the pastel blue beadgrass becomes thicker, leaf-like jade grass - stuff that thrives in the shadows that the smaller, less impressive trees cast. Random and colorful flowers dot the Center's grassy expanse. The Center's many and diverse inhabitants are all gathered in three groups - one with younglings of a certain age and a single adult, the second with the infants and toddlers and a few watchful adults, the third with those younglings past their half-grown age, and the other adults. This third group is listening quietly to a storyteller, under the eaves of the dark forest ringing the Kusani tree. The second group naps peacefully under the golden shadows of the Kusani tree, the few adults yawning contentedly at their charges' peacefulness.
As for the first group; roving, restless mob surrounds an adult, who gives a sharp bark to call the Center's younglings to order. The group sits in a semi-circle facing the big male, tails a-twitch and eyes shining brightly. They're all around half-grown for their species, born and raised in this beautiful Center. The adult is a black Korat, a two-fingered forehand resting lightly on a rod. With several pairs of eager eyes on him, the Korat speaks in a stern voice.
"This is a game that I have invented for you younglings. It will teach you tact, angles, and strategy. This rod," he nods towards the five-foot length, "is made of a core of Crazouli crystal, surrounded by a longer core of rypil metal, and then encased in hardwood. The object of this game is to keep the rod in your possession. You can hold it in your jaws, paws, or tail, or all three. To get the rod from someone, you cannot draw blood. Most importantly, you cannot break, strip, or take a chunk out of the rod. If you harm the rod, you are out of the game. If you draw blood from one of your fellows in defending the rod, you lose possession. If you draw blood trying to obtain the rod, you must wait one pelash to try again. Got that?"
The Korat -his name is Raff- looks around at the dozen or so younglings, who nod emphatically as one. Then, with a fanged grin, the Korat lowers his head. "You'll have to get it from me first," he says tauntingly, taking the rod into his own powerful jaws and bracing his legs for impact. The first to move is a burly Heifia male, who rockets forward and clamps his jaws onto an end of the rod firmly, plants his heavy paws, and begins slowly and steadily pulling. Raff looks vaguely surprised as he feels himself slide forward, despite his splayed stance. The next to bound forward is a blue-furred Night Cat, who snags the other end of the rod in her hands, settles onto her haunches, then lunges backwards. This has little effect against the Heifia's steady pulling, but does give Raff a jerk forward, and he loses balance momentarily. This is, apparently, what the Night Cat wanted, as she gives a few more erratic lunges.
Raff willingly relinquishes the rod, but an opportunistic Ela lunges and snags the middle of the rod in her jaws, grinning smugly at the angry Night Cat and the still-relentless Heifia. The Korat seats himself to the side as the rest of the younglings circle the embattled three, and lays his bet on the Heifia for the next possession. The Ela abruptly slumps, teeth shrieking against the tough wood, as a Sugar Ray pounces her. The thickly-furred feline gives the yellow Athian a good punch on the snout and she drops the rod just as the Night Cat jerks. Somehow, this conspires to remove the rod from the Sugar Ray's vicinity, and the sudden loss of tension sends the Night Cat tumbling backwards. It only takes one snap for the Heifia male to get his jaws in the middle of the rod, where with gleaming gold eyes he challenges his peers to take it from him.
Raff grins. This is just what he had in mind.
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Story -- Zllivan and Tsal, 23:46:23 04/27/02 Sat
*A dull roar is heard as gently a flat oval-shaped spacecraft lands upon the surface of a dry desert planet. The ship is a well polished chrome, obviously well taken care of, and the sun shines off it's hull easily, reflecting a great multitude of light.*
"We have reached Crollam, Zllivan. Should I prepare the disembarkation sequence?"
*Golden eyes turned towards a holographic screen which now displayed a three-dimentional slowly rotating map of the planet. The Tokathe rolled and unrolled her tail behind her a few times, then tapped it's blade gently on the steel floor. Then raising one six fingered paw she pushed her finger through a reddish continent on the display.*
"I'll take that as a no. Examining the continent of Vetil."
*The hologram dissolved momentarily and then reformed, surrounding Zllivan in her entirety. A frown curled at the edges of her black muzzle as she witnessed an enslavement of a native species. A quiet species of quadroped that the Tokathe had previously researched were now being herded into small enclosed dens by large, multi-tailed demons. A low snarl rippled from her throat and the femme whipped her tail outwards at the image, only to have it dissapear before contact.*
"Zlli, how many times must we review that the pre-landing holograms are merely holograms, nothing more. You will have your chance to fight soon enough, must you destroy the holo-sheets every mission?"
"Oh quiet Tsal... but go ahead and prepare the disembarkation sequence now."
*The hologram changed swiftly to a floating virtual elongated canine head, that of a male Takothe. The male voice seemed to come now from this hologram, "Alright then Zllivan, prepare for arming."
*The Takothe femme grinned and stretched upward to her full height. A few bars lowered and around her long scarlet tunic a strong leather belt with various guns in a multitude of sizes was secured. The bars then lifted once more and Zllivan gently lifted her favorite from the bunch, a one-handed gun with silencer and bullets filled with acid. Twirling it deftly around one paw she caught it between her two thumb-like apendages on her left hand and with a grin of determination finalized her already made plans, "Alright Tsallie-boy, you beam me to hither and yon, I'll go free a group of these cretts, get some info... Then you meet me when I send summons, and you and I will go fry the captors of theirs?"
"Dont get yourself "fried" in the process!"
"Have no fear m'friend, I'll keep in touch. You however, put on your invisibility cloak. Your hull stands out like a blackship in snow!" *She grins* "Now beam me up Tsallie!"
And the Tokathe is dematerialized.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
*Zllivan does not wait to completely re-form before dashing off into the nearest shadow, an alley formed between two of the slave cages. Instead, her lithe form, tunic, and belt of weapons finish materializing in darkness, well hidden from the captors which Zllivan sought to kill. Her ears flick back against her head and the Tokathe hunches over slightly in the traditional sign of battle, but does not immediately rush out into the fray. Instead, she takes in the area around her, and crouches forward, leaning into the shot. Lifting her left paw, she pulls the gun infront of her face and squinting slightly, moves one claw backwards in order to fire. The shot is true, and one of the captors falls over, writhing in agony as the acid within the bullet burns through is body.*
*The captors are not stupid however, and most immediately take cover as well, firing their own laser-shots at the area from which Zllivan had attacked. She grimaces slightly as one shot comes a tad to close for comfort and with a grunt of descision, rolls out from behind the cart. A rapid-fire weapon within her tail she madly shoots across the rows of carts, hitting a few more of the guards, but snarling softly as one laser sears her shoulder.*
*Grimacing with the acceptance of being outnumbered, she returns to her acid shot, and with expert aim hits the locks on multiple cages, melting them and freeing the captives. The ragged creatures emerge as no longer the peaceful quadropeds other Takothes had learned of, but raging beasts, ready and willing to fight back for the planet after weeks of misery. Zllivan takes advantage of this and leaping from her hiding place, roars to gain the creatures attention, and then leaps upon one dazed captor. Her deadly hind claws make short work of him, mutilating him peace for peace, and letting the blood flow freely. Perhaps it is the scent that gets the captives moving, but soon all of the once caged quadropeds are stampedeing and fighting back against the heavily outnumbered captors. The black Takothe femme leaps from this fray... and calls wildly to Tsal. Soon the low hum of the flat ship is heard, and Zllivan is pulled back into the safety of the ship.*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The hologram now shows the decimation of the captor species as the captives, led to rebellion, outnumber the attackers 10 to 1. Tsal sighs lightly, a tad dissapointed that on this mission he had to do nothing, Zllivan merely laughs to him, and with a wry grin reassures the ship, "Of course get to do something Tsal, you get to patch-up my shoulder!"
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A Summer's Day... -- Pieno di Vitas, 17:09:32 04/07/02 Sun
I sprawled out, eyes closed and basking in the warm sun. Sounds floated to me like clouds: the gentle breeze ruffling the long grass, the soft surf of our lake, my sister's soft, nearly inaudible footsteps approaching. I raised my head and opened my eyes. My sister stopped and said, "Come on, get up. It's a beautiful day. No clouds!" I looked up and saw that she was right. Not a cloud in sight, just a soft violet colour that stretched to the horizon. I lay back down and stretched my long body, seeing if I could get the tip of my tail into a nearby stream. Not possible, it seems.
I slid upright and stretched again, looking around sleepily. I saw my father, the leader of our pride, arguing with his second-in-command, a male nearly as large as my father. I swept my long ears forward, trying to catch what they were saying, but I couldn't. I nodded my head towards the two powerful males. My sister looked and motioned for me to follow her. She trotted off, with me trailing her like a second shadow. We reached the two males in a few moments, staying far enough to not attract their attention. This is what we heard.
Father: "I flatly refuse."
Other: "You're outvoted; you have no choice!"
Father: "That's impossible."
Other: "Ah, but it's true."
My sister looked at me, and I back at her. My father had been outvoted before, but those two never argued like this then. And there was a certain hooded look in the second's eyes, like he was lying. "I don't believe him," I whispered. "You check the First Half and I'll take the Second Half. Go quickly!" My sister bounded off, as did I, though we went in opposite directions. Since I had no idea what topic my father had been outvoted on, I simply asked those adults who could vote, "Do you agree with my father?" Every answer was the same: No. I was tempted to ask why and therefore piece together the topic, but I didn't. I met my sister at the place that we had been standing mere minutes before. "Well?" I asked.
"Three agreed! He's absolutely not outvoted!" my sister exclaimed happily. You see, as leader of our pride, the only way my father could be outvoted on anything was to only have two of the voting adults agree with him. Whether the second-in-command was one of those two didn't matter. But if three agreed... my father held the majority. I bounded off towards the two males, who were still arguing, with my sister at my side. We slid to a stop and the males looked at us in annoyance. My sister spoke. "Father, three of the voting adults in the First Half agree with you." The second-in-command looked outraged.
My father turned to him, and said, "You are dismissed." Still wearing a furious look, he stalked off, tail twitching. My father smiled down at us. "Do you know what I was supposedly outvoted on?" We shook out heads. "He wanted to migrate. I didn't." My sister and I looked at each other in absolute shock. Many many years ago, there used to be five prides, including this one, though I wasn't alive yet. Then three prides decided that since there was a famine, they would migrate. None ever returned. Later, after they were supposed to be back, a small group went out to look for them from the other pride left. Those that managed to survive and return told wild stories of demons, and poisonous mists, and caves filled with a deadly substance like honey.
And the second-in-command wanted to migrate?!
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Medievalness... -- Humans, 16:55:30 04/07/02 Sun
"You just don't understand!" she shouted at the dark, cloaked figure.
"Now now. You're being difficult again. Did you forget your promise already?" the mage admonished. With a temper like that, he thought, she'll be hard to deal with. The girl, hazel eyes flashing, looked as if she would go anyway, with or without the mage's consent. Then, slowly, she realized the folly of her rage. Her eyes softened.
"You're right, as usual. I'm sorry. It just makes me so mad," she said, calming down slightly.
"Apology accepted. Now, may we continue?" the mage said, indicating a cushion. Folding her long legs and seating herself, the girl pushed back her dark and often wild hair. As the mage also sat, he mused, for the umpteenth time, that, while she had a warrior's body, her willpower was astonishing and she was exceedingly intelligent.
The girl, whose name was Mariana, had quite a story behind her unlady-like qualities. Parents killed when she was only eleven, she learned to fight by thirteen and swore to get back at their murderer, an incredibly powerful mage. Now, at age fifteen, she was learning the arts of magic, bound by a promise to obey her master, Daorwl.
At learning that her enemy was destroying a town near her old home, Mariana had wanted to go and stop him. But Daorwl had pointed out that she wasn't nearly ready; she'd've been killed easily. At her determination, Daorwl had been proven wrong. Mariana would've done some damage, even if it meant fighting her enemy with sword or staff. He was beginning to realize how easy she had been on him.
"Concentrate. Picture a shield in front of you. Make it materialize," Daorwl directed. Eyes shut tightly, Mariana focused on creating a shield. The air in front of her shimmered, and a picture emerged. But only for a second did she manage to keep it there. Opening her eyes, Mariana frowned.
"I felt something. Did it work?" she asked.
"You managed a picture, but not the real thing," he replied. Disappointed, Mariana stared at the stone floor before her. With a snap, a picture appeared again. Concentrating, she formed the shield in 3-D this time. It blinked out of existence as soon as Daorwl grinned and said, "Well done. Let go of it now."
Mariana smiled as she looked up. "I knew I could do it with my eyes open, but I was curious if I could with my eyes shut." Daorwl looked slightly surprised.
"So this past half hour, you were testing yourself? That's my job," he said in a jesting tone. Mariana nodded. She was pleased wih herself, but still disappointed. Daorwl seemed to now this, for he again praised her. "Yes, very well done. Go rest and be back in an hour."
Walking to her chambers, Mariana again heard the cries of the terrified, but unharmed, people of the town. Making a fist, she tried to block them out. Tuning her ear to other happenings, she soon found that nothing was out of the ordinary. Which is good, I suppose, Mariana thought. Though I could use a distraction.
Opening the door to her room, Mariana flopped onto the bed. This may not wear you out physically, but it takes a lot out of you mentally, that's for sure, she thought. Slowly Mariana drifted into sleep.
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After Redwood left Terole and Akartis began to govern... -- Korats, 15:35:26 03/24/02 Sun
The Original snarls, ears back and eyes glaring, at her mate. Drael, more than a foot higher than the angry red, steels his nerves against flinching. She's the only Korat he'll ever fear, and it would figure she'd blame him for her immobility. Redwood shoves forward, a lightning-fast movement dragging her mate's head down to her level. Whiskers tangling, the two Korats stare into each other's brilliant eyes, a battle of wills ensuing. However, Drael has the advantage-- he fights on the side of logic. After a long, long moment, the red whips her muzzle aside and begins a resentful pacing. The black knows better than to try to placate her, and seats himself, unable to do anything but admire his mate. After another long moment of pacing, abruptly the red sprawls out on the ground, the graceful poise only barely marred by the hardly-noticable bulge in her belly. Drael rises and moves to her side, dipping his muzzle down to caress hers, and receives a growl in return.
Redwood has good cause to be angry; for the next month, she cannot hunt, nor fight. The growing lives in her womb must be protected. Pregnant with her second litter in all her long lifetime, even she recognizes the need for healthy, strong cubs. Akartis is the only one Of her Line. Soon, she bets, he'll choose a mate. She knows some Korats reside in Terole. Then, there'll be more Of her Line cubs. But still, as long as she remains healthy and alive, Redwood has a duty to produce as many cubs as she can, and raise them to be the best of the Korat species. But a month without violence will be tough.
...One Month Later...
Redwood rumbles her pleasure. Six cubs. Three reds, all male; two blacks, one male and one female; and a male tan. Drael beams with pale silver eyes down at the newly-born litter, currently being groomed thoroughly by their mother. Though, when she looks up, her expression is troubled. "When they are weaned, I return to Terole," she states in a low voice. Drael rears back, shocked. "You have more loyalty towards a fugitive's planet than to your own species?!" The exclamation is a mistake, for instantly Redwood's tailblade is at his throat and she hisses, all menace. "Don't you dare say that." The thread in her tone is all he needs to back up and out of the overhanging den, disappearing immediately from sight. Relaxing with his absence, Redwood grooms the cubs again, looking at them fondly. Whispering now, she murmurs, "Your father will take good care of you, and raise you properly. Shall I ever have a red female, though, I shall raise her myself." Jaw dropping in a fierce grin for that possibility, the Original yawns broadly. Then, she sleeps.
A mere week after her litter is weaned, Redwood tries to return to Terole, stopped forcefully by a Dragon-Snake marauder and his mercenaries of Demons and Spiralla, not to mention a few Raptor packs for allies. There she is detained, Drael caring avidly for the rapidly-growing cubs, until a rescue party made of Terolians, Korats, and Heifias frees her. In the ensuing battle, many die, but ultimately Redwood is able to go to Terole, and back to her son.
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HUNT!!!!!!!!!!! -- Korat, Preda Bens, 23:01:46 03/23/02 Sat
The deep bass beat pounds through the entire world, it seems, in time with the Korat's heart as she races through the tall grass. Redwood's lips are drawn back in a fierce grimace, her icy blue eyes wild and shudderingly insane. Every bulging muscle in her stocky form flexes, sharply outlined under thick red fur. No thought crosses her mind, raging emotions engulf it and that is the end of the matter. Going at top speed for her, she's merely a red blur of death as she streaks across the plains. Today, with the sun beating down upon her heavy frame, she hunts. And today, something will DIE!
Every stride is a contraction and then a leap, black claws digging into the black earth recklessly, throwing up spurts of rich soil after each step. Nostrils flared and whiskers slicked back against her broad skull, ears laced, she runs. She can smell them, oh yes, she can smell her prey. They will die! All of them! She has not hunted for nearly a month. She will slaughter the entire herd of Preda Bens to satisfy her bloodlust! Were she sane, no doubt she would be vehemently cursing the diplomatic High Circles that gathered, required her to attend, let others hunt for her. Ohh they will pay. Instinct rules as she approaches the crimson herd of beasts. They will pay.
A thunderous bellow erupts from the Original as she gallops headlong through the herd, and even the 'Ben guards don't dare stop the red bullet as she shoots for the biggest in the herd - the alpha bull. He does, however, turn and aim his spike-claws straight at her glittering eyes, those insane blue orbs. Her jaws snap, widen, and the 'Ben's claws gouge her tongue and the insides of her mouth, but the snap-down of her jaws sever both the prey's hands. Her speed, slowed a bit but still over a hundred mph, knocks the heavy bull sprawling and rolling through a group of squawking hens. Redwood hacks once, spitting out the fingers and palms, before leaping upon the fallen beast.
Rabidly, she rakes her four foreclaws across the soft crimson hide, digging deep slashes in the wildly twitching muscle. The 'Ben rears his head up, snapping at her arms and neck, and the Korat ignores the feeble attempt at retaliation. Her hindpaws planted firmly on the ground, her tail blade pressing against the earth in her efforts not to slay the beast quickly, Redwood roars, the sound a rolling crash of infernal thunder. The large and usually-dangerous herd mills confusedly around their fallen leader. Were this a normal situation, they would not hesitate to attack, but this mad creature could be sick. Dangerous. A few of the bigger hens make mock-charges, wailing high-pitchedly and slashing the air with their straight, sharp claws.
As the 'Ben tears a furrow in her muzzle, her thick jaws snap and crush his narrow skull, ripping it off the long neck and gulping it down. The crumbled bone makes an odd grinding noise as it slides easily enough down her gullet. Madly now, she tears into the beast, tearing slabs of fresh, bloody meat off the carcass and gulping them down. Leaving the 'Ben half-eaten and hardly putting even a dent in her raging stomach, the Original spins, staring with pure malice at the surrounding herd. As one, they realize their danger and begin to flee. But they are no match for a hungry Korat.
Redwood throws herself into a run after a large hen, catching up to the beast in mere seconds and hamstringing it with one slash of the forehand. Her neck unlocks and her jaws lunge forward, snatching the ankle bone of the hen and jerking it back as she refurls her neck in one smooth movement. Simultaneously, she stops in her tracks, going from 60 to 0 mph in .5 seconds. The heavy body of the 'Ben flies forward, though, and with some satisfaction the Korat listens to the spine shatter with the impact of going forward yet being held back. Dropping the broken leg-bone, she uses her hindclaws and tailblade to maul the corpse, taking out all the month's frustration, anger, fury, and indignation. No thoughts yet enter the female's mind as she abandons herself to the blood lust and consumes the entire corpse, then goes back to finish the buck's carcass. Such a gorging is unusual, in the fact that Redwood just ate more than her own bodyweight.
Crushing every last bone in both skeletons and lapping up the rich marrow encased inside, the Korat slowly regains her sanity and sentience as she seats herself, completely covered in scarlet blood. Looking around her on the slight hilltop, at the waving, pastel beadgrass soaked in blood, the scenes of struggle, the frantic tracks away, she sighs with satisfaction. -I feel much better,- she rumbles in Koratian, actually letting out a brief purr. Then, she sees to grooming the blood from her fur, relishing the lingering taste of 'Ben-flesh dribbling through her jaws.
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Flight... -- Human, Flamer, 11:28:03 03/16/02 Sat
Hey, BlackRock, let's catch some air. The summons elicited an amused rumble from the stocky Flamer sprawled lazily in the warm sunlight. Slowly, the black rose, ebony hide glittering, and made his way over to Samma, who had his harness in hand. Gladly. She frowned at his tone, sensing something wrong but unable to pinpoint it. Nonetheless, she got the riding straps on in record time and swung up easily, folding her legs and crouching to grab the prominent neckridge. Where is your gear? The girl rolled her sparkling eyes. Don't need it. Can we PLEASE get a move on here?
Snorting, BlackRock spread his broad pinions and leaped off the cliff edge, soaring lightly until a gust of warm air sent him rocketing upwards. Samma hung on tightly, aware of the smooth hardness of the neckridge, not having her gloves on, and the wind whipping her hair into her eyes, having neglected to grab her helmet. However, she had snagged the proper footwear and her shin-knee pads, protecting her legs from the stone-hard scales. Fly me for as long as you can, BlackRock. I don't want to go back. The faint sob underlying her message wasn't lost upon the older Flamer, but he simply swerved into a practiced routine of flashy aerial maneuvers and exhilerating dives. He knew how to cheer his rider up.
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The Lost Battle -- Evils, Sub-Trahe, Sub-Korat, Zeni, 20:11:45 03/13/02 Wed
The battle was over, the main activity now being defiling the losers' bodies. That task was left to the Piratese, who delighted in shredding and tearing the dead, then consuming them raw. There were perhaps twenty of these filthy scavengers, but the main part of the army were Ajoitei, Foruque, and Gruton. Though their victory had been swift and complete, the defenders had put up one btsa of a resistence, for all that they were only forty, and the attackers were two hundreds. That number had been sorely reduced, however; there was one hundred, ten left after the brief and bloody battle.
Watching their comrades' bodies being violated nearly made those under cover, the only three left alive, sick. A Zeni, a Sub-Trahe, and a Sub-Korat, the latter two too busy cursing their enemies to remember they were mortal enemies themselves. Almost as though in accord with the silent maledictions of the Zeni, called Pogai, rain began to fall, lightly at first, then a torrent of liquid, soaking all.
Reddish fur darkened to a nearly black hue as the S'Korat, muzzle stretched into a noiseless snarl, glanced towards Pogai. Pale grey fur also darkened by the downpour, the S'Trahe blinked baleful eyes at his foes, vehemently wishing their immediate and violent demise. The colour-changing Athian wedged his stocky body between both sub-species wisely, knowing the current negligence of their species' feud wouldn't last long. In an inaudible whisper, the Zeni hissed, Come. We must be away. We shall have our revenge soon enough. Come. When neither moved, the Athian male didn't hesitate to grip the S'Korat's tensed shoulder in his jaws and tug. Blazingly blue eyes narrowed as the slender beast swung his muzzle around to threaten silently. Not now, Pogai hissed, then commanded the pair to follow him. Obedient enough once the Athian let go of his flesh, the S'Korat followed, after carving a line in the S'Trahe's flesh to get him following as well.
Pogai led the two many, many silent and briskly traveled leagues away before he allowed them to stop. Now able to speak at a normal volume, he cocked his head questioningly. "What are your names?" The S'Korat answered first, in a low and almost resentful voice, "I'm Enchak." The Zeni nodded, and pointedly looked at the S'Trahe. A malevolent glare answered him and Pogai snarled at the other beast, but surprisingly Enchak didn't react to the hostility between the two Athians. "He's Raim," the S'Korat said impartially.
"Well then," the Zeni said after a pause, regaining his composure, "let's get out of here and to a Center. And find some Bens on the way. I'm starving." His attempt at lightening the atmosphere went unheard, as Enchak turned his muzzle towards the recent battlefield and Raim stared unblinkingly up at the rain. The S'Trahe's sudden words startled Pogai. "All of us, gone. Gone like the rain, swept away... we killed but we died..." Unused to the burly Sub-Trahe species expressing such poignant emotion, the Zeni twitched his camoflauged hide uncomfortably. Then Enchak abruptly rose and pushed his lean, powerful form into a lope. It was all Pogai could do to follow, and after a moment, Raim shoved his own bulk after them.
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A tale of inevitable death... -- Grays, Night Cats, 20:22:21 03/09/02 Sat
A circle of tall, gray, humanish beings surround an elder Night Cat, watching with ugly staring yellow eyes as the Cat shouts. Their long-fingered hands grip weapons, lances and staves and longswords, and their leathery skin is ashen-hued by the storm clouds above. The wild wind shrieks by, tearing leaves from the sooty and singed branches of ancient trees. The Night Cat's black ears are tinged grey with age, and laced back to his silken skull as he speaks, his teeth bared in defiance of the Grays around him. His own gold eyes glare out at his enemies, daring them to kill him before he finishes.
Leagues away, a young Night Cat strikes, her splayed hands knocking a bird from the air and pouncing it. She grins and snaps its neck, then takes it in her sleek jaws to carry it back to her clan, the Cattorn.
In the opposite direction, a Gray receives proper instruction on how to use a lance. He thrusts, skewering the stuffed dummy in front of him. His trainer expresses approval and his friends cheer him on as he continues.
The Night Cat elder snarls as the Grays begin to close in, and shouts out to them. "You hate us! Yet for no reason! We have black fur, therefore you think us evil! We have golden eyes, so you deem us glaring! We hunt at night and slip away unseen, and you think us Wraiths! We have claws and sharp fangs and powerful muscles, therefore you deem us to be feared, and therefore hated!"
The young Cat, far away, bounds back into the woods, the bird now eaten, and purrs to herself in contentment. Her short tail high and waving about, she pushes off a log with her powerful hing legs, her paws splayed for traction, and leaps into a pond. The water ripples as she splashes in.
"We live in groups, so you think us like the Demons that live in packs! We can stomach raw meat, so you deem us savages! You dare not let us speak, and cut out our tongues, for fear that we will prove you WRONG!" The elder snarls again, his calloused hands gripping the rock on which he stands, and his hindclaws unsheathed and ready to be used. His is a clan of warriors, the Niçit clan, and he would never consider giving in to these creatures.
The training Gray grabs the spear, throwing it for fun and scoring. The sharp tip sinks into a carved version of a Night Cat, near the heart area. His friends cheer wildly, and a few of his buddies throw daggers or spears, also slamming into the 'Cat target.
The circles of Grays advance, ugly faces twisted in a sneer of comtempt. The Night Cat stands firm, refusing to give one inch. He will make his clan proud, even if they never hear of his death or sacrifice.
Close your eyes, my friend. You do not wish to see how he dies. Close your ears, young one, you do not wish to hear his dying screams. Turn your head.
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Randomness... -- Centaur, hunting beasts, 17:02:33 03/09/02 Sat
Galloping hooves are the first thing to be heard in the dank, dreary forest in centuries. The next thing is snarling and barking. A dark form races past molding creepers and entangling vines, ebony hooves imprinting a trail upon the damp ground. Hulking, slavering beasts chase the fleet-footed creature, their red eyes gleaming in the gloom. "Ah hell," the hooved one swears as she flattens her torso, tucks her arms in, and leaps gracefully over a six-foot log. Ebony hair whipping in the speed of her passage, the silky hair trailing down her neck and partially down her back in a full-fledged mane, the centaur darts around a tree whose girth spans a hundred meters.
One of the pursuing beasts passes its fellows and nears the fugitive's flowing tail, then leaps, wicked jaws wide. Almost easily, she kicks, one cloven hoof crushing the beast's skull and sending its burly form tumbling into the fungus-ridden foliage. Twisting her torso again, the centaur shoves her way past vines and roots that seem to reach for her, trying to entangle her well-toned limbs in their grips, trying to stop and hold her for the hunting creatures to feast upon. With a wry expression for her imagination, the black-skinned sprinter reaches an open path, obviously abandoned and just as obviously once used with great frequency.
Now with no wicked foliage to slow her down, the centaur turns her mind to a full-speed gallop, easily outdistancing the six or so beasts left. Breathing deeply, she briefly straightens her torso to untwist the deerskin draped across her upper self, tugging at the laces to rearrange it so that it doesn't hinder her breathing. Deeply blue eyes scan the path ahead, checking for possible ambush. As far as she can see, it's safe. Sweat glistening on her dark skin and her ebony fur beaded with old dew from passing through the unnamable forest, the centaur continues to flee for her life.
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Various Scenes... -- Various Creatures, 15:57:06 03/06/02 Wed
[Scene - Icza, Blane, and Afkiai]
I heard a faint sound and spun. Out from the thick brush behind me stepped something that I'd never seen before. And, like lessers in the presence of our betters, Tsas and I took a step back. The creature had a reptilian head, a long, flexed neck, and slitted eyes. Behind the powerful shoulders and long, clawed forelegs arched a smooth back, graceful hind legs ending in clawed talons, and a long, coled tail. The creature was a pure grey-green, no fur or scales, but pebbled skin. Its azure eyes watched us calmly with no visible fear. With good reason: it was half again our size...
[Scene Change - Human and Grayk]
Suddenly, a loud hiss sounded from the tree above me. My head swung up and I nearly got it sliced off for my trouble. I ducked and jumped backwards. A thing leaped lightly and gracefully down to face me. It was about seven or eight feet high, and was grey, with black stripes and swirls. A tiger-like head, amber coloured eyes, raptor-like forelegs tipped in wickedly curving claws, and a deep chest were held proudly upright. Powerful hind legs ending in nasty talons and a twitching tail completed the beast. It bared its ivory fangs in a fierce grimace and crouched, preparing to leap...
[Scene Change - Swype and Shinea]
I huddled inside the bush and held my breath. The being was directly in front of me now, and I was terrified. Its smooth movements, alert eyes, and confident bearing made me realize that it wasn't exactly nervous. The paleness of its soft coat blended in perfectly with its surrounding, and its long, serene body made even me look clunky. A reddish crest topped its swept-back head, long sinuous neck, and smooth forelegs. Its longish back seemed flexible enough, and its hind legs were much like mine. I had to breathe, and I let it out as sloowly and silently as I could. Somehow the being heard me, and spun to face me...
[Scene Change - Night Cats and Keninas]
The scout came limping back, half dead. I leapt up, concern plain on my feline face. The scout collapsed at my paws and gasped, "My lady, in-intruders in the west, west valley. K-Keninas, at least a score..." With that, he passed out. "Healers, attend!" I snapped. The two healers rushed over immediately. I grimaced and and motioned for my pack to follow me. Keninas were tough opponents, and they had attacked my territory more than once, but they had always been beaten back. We loped off, and within five minutes we had reached the valley where the Keninas contemptuously waited. My pack numbered only twenty-three; this promised to be a brutal fight. I grinned nastily. My favorite kind...
[Scene Change - Human]
I raised the staff above my head and chanted the Words of Power. The staff began to glow, and I could feel the Power flow through my like wine. But I didn't get drunk, not quite. "Hee-yah!" I shouted, and swung the staff in a downwards motion. With a loud boom, a ball of flame erupted on the field below me. I nearly collapsed. "It worked?" I said shakily. I simply couldn't believe it! Mariana hadn't lied! And that meant she truly was in severe trouble...
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More oddness... -- Human, 15:40:17 03/06/02 Wed
My tired, airless lungs gasped. I was spinning around and around in Z-space. I could see directly into my numb hands. I could see the flesh and bone and arteries. My eyes were blurry, and my heart was slowing, oxygenless. I shook my head jerkily. I knew that, if I passed out, I'd die. But if I managed to stay awake, I might have a chance at staying alive. My eyes started to close, and I had to concentrate to keep them from doing so.
I was floating, floating away...
I forced out a groan, incredibly loud in my deafened ears. The sound brought me to my senses. No air. None. Zero. Zilch. Airless. I had been nearly five minutes without air. Pain, great pain, I thought blearily, feeling my heart and my lungs collapse. Somehow I managed to remember the Gift. Groping for it, I revived my fingers just enough to hold it. I couldn't speak, so I thought, Olashi lungs and heart. Koratian eyes and hearing. Immediately I could see, and hear the renewed pounding of my heart. Temporarily I had a lungful of air. I was still alive... for now. My new eyes didn't perceive the colour white, so instead of the milky blankness, was bleish. Er, brown-blue-yellow, though that's a poor comparison. A colour only Korats see, though I was seeing it now. Very strange. I could tell that my blood was darker, a maroon colour.
Moving, I stretched painfully. I may've solved my problem, but the solution was only temporary; I could not survive in Z-space much longer. Already my air was gone, and my heart slowed again. I need to contact a Portal, I thought grimly. But how?
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One of those random battle-scenes... -- Humans, Keninas, Night Cat (?), 15:30:36 03/06/02 Wed
With a roar and a leap, I tackled a Kenina. I couldn't do much, but I had to stall the Kenina force! Jeria was counting on me to cover her while she snuck into the Enemy's headquarters, trying to find a vital weakness in His battle plans. The bladed quadruped flung me off, nearly amputating my hind leg in the process. Retaliating, I shot my claws and caught the Kenina on the side of the head. It rocked back, hissing wildly. With a boom, a beam of bright light hit the Kenina, and shrieking, it blew apart, gore and blade-shards flying. Ugh. Twisting my head around, I saw the one who had helped me. Sasha, holding a smoking Dyoned Blaster, grinned and said cockily, "Need some help?"
I nodded emphatically. One Kenina down, a million to go. Diamen. I was getting tired, and even with Sasha's help, we were gonna get our butts kicked. But there was nothing to do about it, except take as many down as quickly as possible. Sasha started Blasting Keninas and I tackled a few more. A half hour later, we had cut a wide swath through their numbers, but I was out of the fight, slumped on the rocky ground with blood pooling around me. I was wounded badly, and the pain was agonizing, paralyzing. Sasha stood protectively over me, still firing her Dyoned Blaster, still holding them off.
For now.
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A story with Flamers, those herdbeast-sized dragons that do not Impress, but are more partner than lifemate... y'gotta love these Pern add-ons. -- Humans, Flamer, 15:23:46 03/06/02 Wed
"Samma! Ovah heeyah!" The course, rough voice spun the running girl around quickly. The old rider shouted, "We got anuthah one ovah heeyah! Bettah hurrah!" Samma broke into a run as she heard a Flamer's shrill cry. "Issa red this time!" he shouted again from the tunnelway. The girl cursed silently. Her own black, BlackRock, wheeled in the sky above her. It's Pith, he reported. Rocky is very worried. Samma nodded and muttered, "Great, thanks." The old rider moved to let her pass. Samma was one of the few that could contain a red in pain, although she was only 16 Turns old.
She arrived outside the barred door, calmed herself, and then unlatched the door. The red screamed in fury and pain, the cry going straight to the blood. Samma stepped in and barred the door again. Breathing deeply, Pith angled her stocky muzzle at the girl and flamed. With a surprised yelp, the apprentice rider dodged and sent peaceful thoughts towards the red, who flamed again. Samma moved towards her, praying not to be fried. She could hear BlackRock's rumbling growl at Pith, though he was a half mile up in the air and they underground. Trying to relax, nonetheless the girl's thoughts were worried. Where was Rocky? Why did Pith flame at her? No other riders had left their Flamers' sides and none had flamed, let alone the ones she knew. This was a very serious case...
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Story-time in the Center! -- Daceno, Yosha, Ela, 15:17:24 03/06/02 Wed
"In a place far, far away, a place that mortals would call ancient, there was a vastly powerful being. He was getting bored, and so decided to visit another planet. This planet, still very young, was at war. As the being looked down upon it, something caught his eye. A girl, a mortal girl, was dying; yet she continued to fight to protect her fallen companion. The powerful being was interested in this, although he did not feel pity or sorrow, and just as she was about to be killed, he sent a lightning bolt down and destroyed her enemies. The girl collapsed, only having a few more moments to live, and managed to whisper thank you before she died. Her comrade, a young man, vowed vengeance on those whom she had fought. A month later, it was he who was at death's door. He was not going to die, however, until they won the war. He knew it. Moments later, a messenger rushed into the room, crying out We won! We won! The enemy is defeated! The young man smiled at the news, and then gave up his soul to the gods above."
The story ended, the Daceno lay back down. There were murmurs of approval going around the group, and they included my friend's and mine. My friend, who was commonly called Claws, said to me, "How cool. Though it was somewhat sad." I agreed, saying, "Yeah, I wish it were longer."
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Freedom! -- Assorted Creatures, 15:11:27 03/06/02 Wed
I ran up to the cliff edge and halted, crouching down to avoid being seen. No other Madreni in sight, just the prisoners and very few guards, if you didn't count the lounging army below. The once-grassy field was now trampled and blood-soaked, the army pacing back and forth, waiting for an attack. I could scent no help. With a careless, mental shrug, I stood and threw caution to the wind. I grinned, let out a thunderous roar, and charged. The army wasn't alarmed at one lone Ksracm flinging itself down the slope at break-neck speed. Well then. I must make them regret that smug, secure feeling.
I roared again. No one single creature down there could take me on and live, and I didn't plan to let them gang up. After I downed the first four creatures easily, some of the next-in-lines looked a bit worried. They actually tried to dodge when I sprang. Notice I said 'tried'. Very few creatures can stop a normal Ksracm, let alone me. I am Of the Line, and a Madreni. Not to mention I'm built like a Minmon, bigger than some Nigias, even.
I was almost to the captives now. This was a little too easy, though... almost like a trap. Pity them, I'm smarter than most. I roared again and downed a couple Ajoitéis. Quite a few prisoners, if I could get them free I'd have a fairly large back-up force. Suddenly, a yellow Ela sprang up, chains (ahem) miraculously crushed. He gave me a broad grin and lunged at my pursuers. Within a couple pelash, the captives were taking revenge. I think the army was slightly annoyed. It's not like we could get out or anything... or so they think.
I gave a bellowing signal. So much for being subtle, but hey, it's just not my style. An answering bugle brought the hidden Madreni out in a rush. My friend Lofico, a Sugar Ray, led them down the slope and into the startled army. I gave a roar and charged, the former prisoners sprinting after me. Naturally, after a mere half-hour of battle, the good guys -us- had won.
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Again with Middle-Earth and even Gandalf! -- Humans, Claw- and Tahg-demons, Korat, 14:55:56 03/06/02 Wed
With a rush of wind, Ana, a demon black as night, came to an excited halt before a cloaked figure. This figure sat up quickly as Ana reported the coming of a Man on a great horse, obviously a steed of the Rohirrim. The two could hear the soft thud of hoof-falls. The cloaked figure stood up, head held high, and looked towards the sound. Already the dark shapes of horse and rider were visible to her keen eyes. The figure threw back her hood and strode forward, calling out, "Halt, rider, if you value your life."
The horse neighed in surprise at the unexpected challenge and wheeled around to face the girl and her demon. The rider, however, seemed relaxed. "Ho, friend. Who are you that you may challenge Gandalf the White in his own lands?" For of course it was he, and Peregrin Took was not awake just then. Gandalf was bluffing, in hopes that he could pass quickly.
The girl laughed quietly and said, "These lands be no one's, an' if they were, they would be mine, wizard." She knew well the Order of Wizards, for her aunt had been Yellow once. The girl was bluffing as well, hoping to find out some information from this stranger. "Tis a daring thing, to call a possible enemy 'friend'," said she, in a grim undertone.
Gandalf looked at her, trying to figure out just what and who she was. "Well then. I have told you my name, stranger, do announce yourself," he said icily. Shadowfax, Gandalf's grey steed, snorted and shifted a bit. The girl stepped forward, and smiled strangely.
"I am the one they call Tamia. Do not be crude, sir. I am no less intelligent than yourself and I have my own power." The girl smiled coldly, and Gandalf quickly translated her name in over a dozen tongues. He remembered one he learned a long while ago, from one whom spoke with the demons. Tamia. Demon's Daughter. Only one human could have that name. The child of the legendary Sasha DemonWalker.
Incredible, Gandalf thought. The DemonWalker has a child. An heir to her glory. This girl, this insignificant little thing, is it. He shook his head and spoke calmly. "I have never heard of you, yet you seem to know me. Interesting. I am in a hurry now, child, I must leave you." Gandalf realized his mistake as he heard the snick of steel leaving the scabbard. Tamia let out a low laugh, as if she were used to being thought of as insignificant. As though she had heard his very thoughts. Gandalf held up his hand just as the girl flung her sword -later found out to be a rapier- over his head.
A loud thump was heard, and a piece of the black background fell forwards. A demon. Tamia let out a pure, unruffled call, and ran to retrieve her sword. Ana leapt forward, as her mortal enemies poured out of the blackness. True demons were they, not simply what she had been called by stupid Men. "Ana! Get my blade!" Tamia yelled as three large demons blocked her path to it. The swift creature leapt over their heads, grabbed the blade in her teeth, and tossed it to Tamia.
Tamia grinned fiercely as she caught the hilt, and sliced a head off. She laughed wildly, the battle rush beginning, and carelessly she advanced. The remaining two demons tried to kill her, but she dodged easily and got them both. Turning to Gandalf, she yelled, "You'd best be going, sir! These folk make no distinction between Wizard, girl, or the Madren!"
Gandalf reined Shadowfax back in shock at the mention of the ancient clan. Tamia fought on; no doubt she would win. Ana was at her side, tearing into the enemy. Yet… Gandalf needed to reach the City of Gondor. He sighed, reluctantly kicked Shadowfax forward, and galloped away into the night…
Tamia and Gandalf would meet again, on the shores of the mighty River, after the first battle against Mordor had been won. Their meeting then, however, is another story.
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Something-or-other... -- Daceno, Humans, Mutatio, Bat-things, 22:00:30 03/03/02 Sun
I crept to the corner of the empty room and lay down. There was a grinding noise above me and cage bars suddenly shimmered into existence. I reared up and looked around in alarm. ~Whaaa...?~ Suddenly the building began to shake violently. The ceiling fell around me, making me cough harshly. I looked around and nearly screamed. A creature stood up and nudged a Human female. The thing looked like a mutated dog, with a choppy muzzle, think body, and a scary gleam of intelligence in its eyes. There was a Human male, no, two. The floor started to shake, then collapsed. When I looked around this time, it was even scarier, because there was a Human male in a robe that had not even been touched. Which obviously meant that he was a sorcerer. I reared up again and pounded the cage door with my hooves. The sorcerer was contaminating the air somehow and making it hard for me to breathe. I managed to break a bar, exhale, and wriggle through.
Suddenly, the building simply disappeared. ~*Now! Come to me, my beings!*~ he yelled. In a very familiar language. MY language! Which sounded very strange, coming from a Human, like a deeper version of a normal Daceno. Actually, kind of like mine. {What did he say?} the creature asked me. I jerked in surprise, swiveled my head towards it. ~He said, now come to me, my beings,~ I replied. I heard a soft whirring sound and glanced up. A flock of creatures that looked like giant bats with huge jaws and fangs to match flew overhead.
I gulped air and exhaled through the air-slits in my body. I shot up into the sky and repeated the process again and again. By controlling the slits through which the air exited, I was able to power towards the nearest creature and collide with it, knocking it to the ground. ~Your turn now,~ I called to the dog-mutation. It immediately tackled the bat. Meanwhile, I filled my air system, and exhaled fiercely, shooting sideways across the ground. ~Oops!~ I muttered tersely. I changed direction and went straight up, into another bat. I snapped at its wings, my beak cutting right through the leathery hide. It fell almost on top of the sorcerer, who was too busy looking defeated to dodge.
Two other bat-things flew towards me, jaws snapping. Since there was only one thing to do, I did it. My big beak-mouth gulped air, and when they were only a couple yards away, I exhaled and shot stright up. Into the waiting bat-creature. The other two veered off easily. I felt like a fool. It had been a trap! By some miracle, however, I was able to get away without too much damage. But I still had three bats on my tail, and I was getting a little ditsy from not absorbing any air and working so hard, so fast. ~*Go now!*~ the sorcerer yelled, again in my language. They flew off immediately, to my great relief. I glanced down and saw that the mongrel and Humans were also not hurt badly.
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Feast -- Unmentionables and one Human, 21:57:06 03/03/02 Sun
A dreadful shriek echoed through the musty air and resounded off the mold-covered walls. A chain rattled dully, and then all was silent. In the other room, a dying body slumped to the hard stone floor, blood staining the grey rock dark crimson. The throat of the young boy was slit open, blood still pouring out and scarlet tissues explosed to the harsh light. A massive spasm racked his crumpled body, as his heart beat one final time. A slim, blood-stained hand reached towards his body, silver knife held almost delicately. With a swift motion, the knife sliced across the body's stomach. Intestines spilt out, ropes and blood, piling in a heap. The hand reached through the gore and picked up the liver. A wordless cry was said as the organ was ripped into pieces and consumed. Such slaughter for one meal. Very soon, no such delicacies would exist for them. More humans need be hunted...
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:) -- Random SCI-FI, 21:47:50 03/03/02 Sun
Under the cover of darkness three silent figures hastily made their way through the night. The creatures had nothing in common, though it was obvious they were aware of each other's prescences. The first had a light fur covering of grey, it was almost feline in shape, with sharp pointed ears that nervously flicked back and forth as it ran. It's tail was curled tightly, six clawed paws merely blurs beneath it's speeding form. It's body had a deep chest, built for endurance running and it's legs were broad and muscular. The second creature was scaled. It's hide changing colors to blend perfectly with whatever it stood near, the only way any being could see it was when it opened it's eyes... they were a bright purple, swirling with emotion. It had no claws but merely a horn upon it's head, a deadly weapon that with luck could destroy the enemy before he even knew of it's existance. The third was quite different from what you would expect. It had a deep blue hide, tinted lightly with green to give it a marbled appearance. It had neither fur nor scales but instead a soft penetrable skin, and though neither it's long narrow jaws, blunt hooves, or long tail provided it much defense... it had all the protection it needed within it's mind.
The grey feline led the trio to a river. Quickly climbing down into it's rushing waters it did not wait for the others to follow it's lead, as it somehow already knew that they would. It paddled strongly forward, the current propelling it faster. After a long tiring swim the creature pulled itself out of the water and turned it's smooth grey head to see if the others had made it. And they had. The reptilian willed itself to a light tan color, and the feline nodded. The skinned gently touched the reptilian and the feline without physical movement and the feline nodded again. Then the cattish creature spoke, "Name. Species. Employment." The reptilian answered first, his voice raspy and tough, ~Sskenth. Vekin. Mercenary.~ The feline merely blinked, "You," it said now, looking at the skinned creature,"Name. Species. Employment." The skinned creature did not answer. "Speak up," The cat said harshly, "Or have you no voice?" The skinned creature turned it's sharp head towards the cat, >>I have a voice. Though I choose to only speak to those few beings who need to hear what I say.<< The cat raised an amused eyebrow,"Well then, consider myself one of those few." >>Cesilvi. Jenjol. Warrior.<< The Vekin snorted, his scales growing a bit brighter as his mood lightened, ~You? The hooved marble? A warrior?~ he snorted, ~The day you become a warrior is the day that I join the Testers.~ Cesilvi mearly flicked her round ears back against her head and before the lizard could move the thorns from a nearby plant were flying through the air and then deeply embedded within his arm. Sskenth roared in pain and the silver cat chuckled.
Cesilvi turned to the feline now, >>And you? Name. Species. Employment.<< The cat smiled,"Dekir. Tigion. Slave." Sskenth turned his head and with a low rumble of annoyance spoke again, ~Great, wonderful... I'm in the company of a marble and a runaway... what more could I ask for?~ >>Not much. Truth be told you were as much of a 'runaway' as the rest of us. There is no mercy on this planet. It is simply a prison in which captives such as ourselves are kept for testing purposes. But how do we get off? We've escaped the cells... but is there a way to escape the planet?<< Silence followed the statement. Sskenth finally broke it with a low hiss,~I say we go back, steal one of their damned ships, and get the hell off of this planet!~ "Right Sskenth. You go ahead and do that. You'll only lose your life in the process." >>Dekir is correct. We all know how many guards they have on each of those slave ships. There is no safe way to steal one.<< Sskenth shrugged, ~I don't fear death.~ "Well guess what? A lot of creatures do." Sskenth gave the cat a look of pure anger, ~I don't take insults from a slave cat.~ "I don't take insults from an iguana!" the cat retorted, claws unsheathed. Cesilvi emitted a high pitched bugle, the first sound she had emitted unto the outside world. Sskenth and Dekir both looked at her curiously. >>Stop it. If we are going to get off the planet we must work together. Even a fool should know that much.<< Sskenth hissed one last time at the Tigion before curling up by himself. Dekir and Cesilvi slept together... each enjoying the others warmth.
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Dekir was the first to arise. Gently pulling himself away from Cesilvi he sniffed the air... no danger was nearby. He loped away from the two at a steady pace, somewhat curious as to their surroundings. Even for sharp eyes such as his the evening had brought about unfamiliarties... and if the trio were to be staying here for ahwile he had best become familiar with it. They were in a clearing admist a large forest... that much was evident. Dekir had not trusted sleeping in the forest itself, and not until he knew of all the creatures that lurked their would he be. Climbing a tree at the very edge of the forest Dekir gazed around the strange terrain. It was all very flat, so different then the rolling hills he had gazed at forlornly when he was a testee... but that was over now. He'd escaped, and so had these other beasts of woe. The Tigion shook his grey head... they definitely were unlike anything he'd every seen before. The Jenjol seemed nice enough though he doubted he'd ever want to deal with a Vekin again after his impression with this one. However, since this one was a mercenary, perhaps it had a different way of thinking.
He heard a soft humming and when he turned his head to his left he saw none other than Cesilvi beside him. He cocked his head inquisitvely, "How'd you get up here?" >>Teleportation. Very useful.<< The tigion nodded, "I'm sure." He grinned, "Is lizard-boy still sleeping?" >>Soundly.<< Dekir laughed, "He must be nocturnal as well as odd." the Jenjol laughed silently. But then her expression changed, >>Do you believe that there is a way off of this planet?<< "If there's a will there's a way!" >>Seriously.<< Dekir shrugged... not quite sure what to tell her, "I suppose so. If there's a way to get on it there has got to be a way off of it doesn't there?" Cesilvi smiled, >>I suppose.<< "Glad you think so," Dekir said with a smile...
"Shall we go wake Prince Charming?" >>Must we?<< "Yes." >>Then I shall do it,<< Dekir heard the humming noise again, only this time louder and couldn't help but laugh as Sskenth awoke with a start to the Jenjol's loud mental summons... ~What? Who? Why you bloody marble! Do that again and I'll...~ >>You'll what?<< ~I don't know. Skin you and use your hide as a throw rug I suppose.~ "You do realize that if you did that I would be forced to skin you and use you as a furball case don't you?" Sskenth turned his icey gaze towards the Tigion, fierce violet eyes locking with golden orbs of calm. ~I told you not to mess with me cat.~ "Then don't insult a fellow crew member." ~Crew member?~ "Yes, I have decided... since we have escaped together from one place, we are technically a crew. Now all we need is a ship!" Cesilvi laughed outloud this time, >>And I know just where to get one!<<
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As it turned out the Jenjol had picked up traces of an abandoned luxury ship when she had used her mental blast to awaken Sskenth. Without wasting time the mis-matched crew of three ran stealthily through the woods, much refreshed from the nights dreaming. While dashing through another clearing in the woods Dekir was startled to see Sskenth suddenly pause and yell out to drop. Dekir did so without thinking twice and was grateful that he did. If he had not a creature ten times his size could quite easily have taken off his head. With a roar of anger Dekir raised his body to face the attacker... it was easily fifty feet tall and was covered in sharp spikes... that by their coloring... appeared to be poisionous. It also had wings! Dekir yelped loudly and dived behind a rock as suddenly those huge, probably poisionous spikes, were launched from the creatures body in several directions... and then regenerated.
Sskenth leaped behind a tree and willed himself to blend in perfectly with the long gold grasses of the field. He kept his eyes tightly shut for fear of being killed without a chance to prove himself. Then he heard the mental voice of Cesilvi, >>Are you alright Sskenth?<< He almost laughed as another round of spikes flew over his head, he'd been in better situations... >>So have I Sskenth. But for now we need to work on this situation!<< Sskenth took in a deep breath, coming to the understanding that Cesilvi could read his thoughts as well. >>Of course I can read your thoughts!<< He mentally laughed and then thought about Dekir, trying to think of whether or not he was alright. >>He is fine. He told me so.<< Sskenth thought about being happy because of that and then tried to picture a plan in his mind of what to do... he thought of one, but would need Cesilvi's help for it... >>I approve of that plan. The spiked creature is known as a Lycol. It has one sensitive spot, it's neck. Stab it there and it shall die.<< Sskenth nodded and keeping his eyes shut started walking forward, >>A bit to the left Sskenth... alright... I'll stun it, you kill<< A resounding hum was heard throughout the forest as Cesilvi forcefully threw a huge amount of mental power at the creature. It was only frozen for a few seconds but that was long enough as the Vekin's horn went through it's neck, immediately hitting the horned beasts jugular. It screamed in a terrible agony and then started to fall... Sskenth still stuck in it's neck, now covered in the beasts dark green blood. Dekir leaped from his position from the rock, and with a mighty yank mid-air... pulled Sskenth out of the monster's neck and out of harms way before he was crushed. Cesilvi was unconcious, Sskenth burned from the evil's hot blood, and Dekir slightly scratched from the first round of fire.
The trio was a sorry looking lot as they limped onwards towards the abandoned ship... Cesilvi still weak, Sskenth still burned, Dekir still poisioned. They reached the ships mighty hull at twilight of the following morning, and collapsed beneath it.
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Awaking first on the third day Cesilvi took the spare time to scan the ship once more, just to reassure herself that no creature had boarded the ship while their group had recovered. Results of a search for other life forms were negative and she smiled. With a light mental call to both Dekir and Sskenth she woke them, and the group of three stood at the ships hull, examining it quietly. Sskenth wasted no time, ignore the pain from his burns he climbed up the side of the ship and forcefully rammed the main door, causing the old entrance to collapse under his body pressure. Dekir groaned as the door fell in, but Cesilvi calmly teleported herself up to the door and walked in without complaint. Dekir clambered up after them. >>It's a sorry looking piece of diamen isn't it.<< ~What the hell is diamen?~ >>What your head is filled with.<< Sskenth hissed annoyedly but turned to continue to explore the craft... it had rusted over in many places, there were no seats, much of the controls had been destroyed, and all safety weapons didn't appear to be functional. Dekir pondered on how to fix the weapons, Cesilvi thought about the controls, and Sskenth continue to search for the engine... a loud whoop of pleasure alerted the Tigion and the Jenjol that Sskenth had found the engine and it was still intact.
Eventually, after using scraps of metal from crashed useless ships in the area, Dekir had remade most of the weapons so that the ship would have a little bit of defense. Cesilvi looked them over and though she said nothing, was actually rather impressed. Sskenth glanced at them, commented that he could have easily done the same thing, and then headed for the piloting controls... Dekir right behind to serve as co-pilot. Cesilvi would be incharge of the weapons, as her inner scanning system could detect ships trying to stop them before they were close enough to fire. Sskenth fiddled around with the controls a bit, his claws nimbly trying different combinations of buttons to start the engine. After about an hour he got it and with a loud hum, the ship was ready for take off. ~Everyone ready? Cause here we go!~ The ship started its upward climb shaking and rattling the whole way... Cesilvi constantly muttered prayers to the Goddess of her kind in hopes the ship wouldn't fall apart. Sskenth was oblivious to the racket, he loved the thrill of battle, no matter what kind of craft he was in.
When they reached the planets atmosphere, heat overwhelmed them. The temperature soared but each silently suffered, not saying anything yet. As they continued their slow traveling the heat became unbearable, Dekir's toungue lolled out and his eyes bulged before falling over on the floor... Sskenth couldn't help him, using too much energy to stay conscious and keep the ship on a steady course. Cesilvi tried to concentrate and form a shield around the ship to stop it from getting any hotter. But the blazing heat was too much and she could not think clearly...
Then, like reaching some sort of heaven, the temperature quickly cooled and the trio found themselves floating... They had made it off of the planet! Cesilvi, gaining control of her mind again, used her mind to create a form of gravity on the ship and then hurried over to Dekir. Luckily, he was able to rise quickly and return to his seat next to Sskenth. The Vekir nodded to him, and, wiping sweat from his brow... ~We're not done yet. Cesilvi? Check what's around us.~
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*** -- Centaur Huntress, 21:39:16 03/03/02 Sun
Sunlight fell upon the huge field and dew drops danced as all the morning creatures awoke. Birds sang sweet tunes harmonizing with their families and rabbits emerged from their dens, squinting in the light. Does with newborn fawns quietly stood to face the day and then began to graze, enjoying a breakfast of green. Then, quite suddenly, and arrow flew from the edge of the forest and killed a rabbit where it stood. A strong form emerged from the shadows, ready to claim her prize.
Bow thrown over her shoulder, quiver strapped securely to her back, the huntress reached the kill. She scrutinized the carcass a moment then leaned over and picked it up. Pulling a knife out from the sheath she wore around her waist she quickly skinned the rabbit and then turned. A large wolf came bounding out from the underbrush. She tossed the meat over her shoulder and the wolf caught it mid-air. "Good boy Kavri. Never seen a field like this. Hell, never seen a woods like this. More deer then there are trees."
The wolf grinned and then fell about eating his prize. The huntress chuckled and taking the rabbit pelt, shoved it roughly in a pouch. Brushing a tangled bit of red-brown hair from her face she suddenly becamse slightly self-conscious. Turning her head at an odd angle to examine her form she sighed. How long had it been now since the change?
The huntress closed her eyes and was flooded by memories. Memories of once being human, having two legs, being accepted by society. Then the pictures came of the jealousy, jealousy of her abilties as a hunter. She remebered defeating even some of the best men. Suddenly the huntress shuddered and opened her eyes. She would never hunt with humans again, not with this body.
What would she be called, horse-woman? She was a freak, a girl combined with her mount after a threat, a stalker, and eventually a curse. Now she was alone, with only her faithful wolf and old human memories to keep her company. But what use were memories when they told you nothing important. She remembereed the faces of friends but nevr names, and speaking of names, she did not even know her own!
Well, perhaps she would eventually name herself,
but for now, she was simply the huntress.
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Dragoness Speech -- Zyli, 21:30:14 03/03/02 Sun
"In the hearts of all man remains one solumn fact. Nothing is impossible. Some of them just chooose not to believe in that fact. They say that the dinosaurs will never return, mythicals will never exist, insects could never take over the world. They live in their own protective little helpless and normally hopeless shell. It is sound proof to the cries of pity that many send forth to the person inside... Most adults have this shell, only children could truly understand the facts of life that could or might happen. Adults never will, nor do I expect them to. They are oblivious to much and now that they have reached this perticular stage of maturity will always be oblivious. There is no hope for them. We should forget them and turn our eyes to the children."
Zyli was making a her first public speech and was obviously doing a good job of it from the agreeing gazes of the other mythicals who surrounded the rock upon which the young dragoness stood. Zyli was quite unaware of this however as she continued to say the well rehearsed lines that she had written only a week ago.
"If we wish to get the planet Earth's help we absolutely must speak to the children. The adults will never believe us, and will simply forget about us with the excuse that we were a bit of undigested meat or other type of food." Zyli smiled as she said that, after watching many of Earth's old documentries or 'movies' as the human race tended to call them. The one she had just quoted from was known as 'A Christmas Carol' It was a very sad story indeed about a horrible cruel man who was visited by spirits and learned to turn his life around for the better. However what was quite odd was that even though the humans had this obviously quite accurate documentry most did not believe in the quite real spirits! This had confused Zyli for awhile until she had just given up upon the subject and had gone on to learn about Human history.
"Children believe in us, and some, known as 'prodigies' are even smarter then the older human counterparts. If we can find a child 'prodigy' who believes in the mythicals and will agree to help us in our time of need we will eventually gain help from the planet Earth!" Zyli then took a bow after her somewhat short speech and realized with much distain that most, though finding her speech enjoyable and well written, did not believe in it in the slightest. The dragoness snorted with disgust for the disbelievers and thought of them to be more stubborn then the adult humans!
An old male unicorn then trotted up behind the rock and began his speech about the dictatorship of the Halafiz Mountains. Zyli listened politely to the old stallion but was quickly bored before he even got to the part about the first attack that had happened over a month ago by some ogres on some innocent mountain pixes. Zyli yawned quietly and stretched her violet wings to their full length before sharply pulling them in again after recieving the reproving glares from the few pixes that had been watching amidst the crowd.
Zyli sighed and turned her bored leaf-green eyes around, searching for anyone she happened to know... to very little surprise she saw Lixue, a snow white Artic were-wolf who often hung around Speech Rock to listen to the speeches as she truely had nothing better to do. Lixue was in human form now, her pale skin standing out against the arangement of oranges, reds, and other odd colors that were found upon the hides of the group of mysticals... Zyli turned and raised a golden claw to the sunlight, sending a flash into Lixue's eyes and catching her attention.
Lixue's blue eyes blinked but she as she saw Zyli a relieved expression formed upon her face. Lixue nodded slightly to the dragoness and then returned her gaze to the unicorn speaker who had finally finished, Zyli didn't have to look at him to tell however, applauses of the pixies and no one else told her everything she needed to know.
As the crowd dispersed Zyli worked her way over to Lixue, "So? How did I do?" she inquired eagerly... Lixue, not one for much talking, simply replied with, "Needs work." Zyli snorted and drew back her teeth at the were who quickly went wolf and gave the dragoness bared teeth right back. Zyli wondered how she ever did get stuck with people like this and shook her head, submitting quietly...
Lixue smirked and trotted on ahead, leaving Zyli in the dust. The dragoness hissed menacingly after her, and took to the sky, heading towards home after a long, and rather dissapointing day.
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Far back, around eleven long years ago, our story begins. -- Humans, Elves, Nila, Centaurs, 20:23:02 03/03/02 Sun
A young girl, about the age of seven years, lived in Middle-Earth. Her village was often misnamed, forgotten, and lost, for it was deep in the Black Glade, as they called the forest surrounding the place. Great tall trees stretched upwards, their trunks black as coal and the older one's fissures lined in silvery green. The leaves were that same silvery green, smooth and thin, and the trees themselves had no name, for they only grew in that one forest. Massive gnarled roots intertwined on the rough brown ground, making a hazardous ride for either man or domestic beast. Rocks and assorted stone objects jutted out from underneath root and hung from branches, placed aimlessly by some unseen force.
The young girl, her curled red-brown hair clipped short and held back, not by a bow, but by a piece of rein tied in a knot around it, slipped off into the Black Glade. Clothed not in a dress, but a worn brown tunic, she was unafraid as she wandered further into the Glade, and farther away from her home, the village of Tantook. Armed, yes armed, with a small dagger sheathed at her belt, she looked about her with bright eyes, observing all she could, and storing the images into her memory. Silent as a forest creature, clad in tunic, belt, sandals and small cloak, she soon came to a small, swiftly flowing stream. Glancing about her with keen gaze, she kneeled to take a drink. The water ran fresh and cold, coming from the high mountain of Yrahe south of the Black Glade. After quenching her thirst, she sat down on a log, relaxing and looking about her idly. Something had drawn her out here, told her to come, and she had. Now where was it? Getting bored, she flipped a few nearby pebbles into the water... and waited.
A silence descended upon the area quite suddenly, and the girl froze, as wary as any beast in the place. Without a warning or word, three people stepped out from the foliage on the far side of the stream. One was a tall man, dark-haired and powerful looking, a broadsword strapped to his side. The second, the shorter one, was an elf, longbow tied across his back and quiver at his hip. The third was female; a warrior in the flesh, a rapier sheathed at her side and dirk at her back, tall and muscled. The girl did not move or speak, simply stared with wide eyes.
The first man crossed the stream quietly, making nary a loud splash, headed towards the young girl. Scared but not terrified, she didn't run, only stared, one small hand gripping her dagger's hilt. He reached the other side and stopped, only a few feet away from the girl. Kneeling, he spread his arms out and spoke quietly, his voice commanding. "Come with us, young one. We will teach you in the ways of the Raiders." The girl still would not speak, but after a few moments of silence did so.
"Why? Who are you? Why do you want me to go with you? Was it you who called me?" Her voice was shaking slightly, but not high-pitched and squeaking, like most girls her age. The female smiled at the questions, and cut the man off.
"You have potential far beyond what will ever be to be had in your village. Come with us. It was I who called you." She smiled, her blue eyes suddenly friendly and welcoming, and no threat to be had from either rapier or dirk. The elven man nodded his agreement and extended a hand in a beckoning motion.
"I am called Menar. The woman at my side is the Lady Taimia, Demon's Daughter. The man ahead of you is Suttigan," the elf said, his voice quiet, and gestured to each person he named in turn. The woman grimaced at the title of Lady, and gave a quick glare to Menar before smiling at the young girl. The girl herself was confused, but sensed truth in their manners and names and answers. Blinking slowly, she rose and took a few hesitant steps toward the trio. Suttigan smiled broadly and offered her his hand, still kneeled. The girl took it, and he nodded and rose. Without further word, they led the girl away from her home, family, and out of the Black Glade forever.
...Time Passes...
A thwap, a shrill flying sound, and then a firm thud into the target sounded as the girl, now ten, practiced archery. Grinning, she nocked another arrow and pulled back the string again. Drawing the string back to her cheek, she closed one eye, aimed, and... "Sasha! Come on!" The shout blasted the shot and the arrow went wide, barely hitting the corner of the target. Sasha made an angry face, then lowered her bow and spun to yell back, "Alright already! Hold up!" Narrowing one eye and grimacing, she made her annoyed face again and trotted off to fetch her arrows. Dressed in a finely made tunic of browns and greens, a dagger at her side and quiver at her back, and well-made boots of hide, she was much better off here now than she ever was with her own village. She reached the target, a wooden carving of an elk, and plucked her arrows out and tossed them into her quiver, glaring at the fly arrow.
"SASHA!" She jumped at the booming voice of Suttigan and took off running towards the Greenroom Inn, only a few hundred yards off. Moving swiftly, she made it there before either Taimia or Suttigan could gather breath to yell for her again. Taimia lightly bapped her on the head. "You need to time your practices, Sasha." The girl grinned, only a little apologetic, and glanced around at the Raider gathering.
The entire town seemed to be there, milling about and talking in muttered voices. Mostly humans, yet some elves could be seen, even one or two centaurs were cantering about. There were also a good many Nila, the tall bipeds keeping quiet and their grey fur seeming out of place among bright colors. Spears, their usual weapon, not to be seen among them, not even a branch-handled dagger, simply tunic and belt. Clawed hands, broad talon-like feet, and feline fangs would do for defense, though these distant Raiders would not fight here. Sasha found many eyes on her and the other young children, and though human or elven stare was not to be strange, the Nila's steely golden gaze was unnerving. One Raider caught her own eye, for the clumsiness was obvious. A young male centaur, blonde palomino, with a short sword strapped about his waist and seemingly heavy hooves. He was tripping about the place, even over pebbles, and seemed annoyed at his own self.
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Coin of Worlds... -- Wolven, Olashi, 19:53:56 03/03/02 Sun
This is a story told of a place far away, in another galaxy, and of two people in it. The story of two that saved an entire planet. The tale must be told here.
T'was night on Terole. This planet was dusted and dry, with two beings that governed it's affairs after it being discovered and colonized. These two were Redwood, a Korat, and Oceana, a Night Cat. Redwood was defensive and violent, and aggressive, while Oceana was peaceful and younger. They worked well together. Terole was growing and prosperous, with many newcomers daily. It is unknown how the blackships came or from where or why they did what they did. They first fired upon the City of Nankampi, the capitol City of Terole. Citizens fled as buildings fell and burned. Soon more blackships came, firing upon everything. Redwood was sought out and murdered, after saving several Terolians. Oceana was also killed, again after saving some Terolians. Some survived and escaped to a place unknown to all. Now, we shall begin the story in truth and detail.
Far in Lavana, a small rough-furred brown form huddled against the night's terrors. In the lands surrounding Penins' Falls was not the place to spend a darkened time such as night, no indeed. Bright golden eyes peered out from her hiding place among ancient roots, always watchful. The ice in the gold eyes and the aggressiveness in the limp form were only secondarily noticed. She was a Wolven, a creature akin to an Earthen werewolf. Her name was Kesthi.
That night it stormed. Violent rains and harsh winds pelted the forests and the young Wolven. In the worst of the storm, there was a flash of light, a spicy scent, and a booming crash. A Portal appeared, near Kesthi's huddled body, and a small round object dropped from its center. Her ears pricked and her head she raised to identify this strange thing. With a glare at the Portal, which swiftly disappeared, she rose and approached the small object. As she picked it up carefully, lightning flashed and the carvings upon its surface were apparent. T'was a Coin of Worlds. The crest of the Tri-System was on one side; on the opposite was the Terolian symbol.
Kesthi's icy gaze simply stared at the Coin for a moment, not quite believing she held one of the few and invaluable. It was incredible. A crash of ominous thunder sounded overhead and she winced, pinning her ears to her thick skull and baring long fangs. Clutching the Coin, lest she lose it in the downpour, she slipped away...
Five days later she arrived, garbed in dark green and cleansed, in the Olashian City of Oran. Walking proudly, she approached the Leaders, the Simnohs, of that City. They did not listen to her as she pleaded to send ships to Terole. Something must be wrong, for Terolian Coins are rare and not to be randomly sent through Portals. The Simnohs could not understand her point. After speaking in an alarmingly loud voice and gesturing wildly, trying to get them to believe her, Kesthi left the City. Furious and raging at her failure, she wished she knew how to use the Coin herself to transport herself to Terole. Talking out-loud to trees, Elei, and anything else that might listen, she explained why she could not help. Then, quite suddenly, an old voice echoed in her head. Frozen in place, she listened.
"A hole in the space-time continuum... fluctuating unsteadily until a more stable opening can be made... Bringing with it, from any nearby stars and nebulas, colorful gasses and sparks and swirls of light... It is a transport to anywhere in this universe and quite possibly beyond... Sonic booms constantly sounding from the hole, this transport, this Portal..."
As the voice faded away, Kesthi stood in shock and sudden understanding. Nodding to herself, she finally knew what those strange tugs at her mind were, those insistent feelings of stretch and pull. Concentrating, she created one of those in front of her. Impulsive as ever, she kept it until it bubbled steadily, creating a full-blown Portal. Using the Coin of Worlds as her guide, she leapt through the swirl of static light... to Terole.
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Playful death... -- Stone Tigers, Infernio, CaraCara, Trahes, 11:39:06 03/03/02 Sun
The sun glistened off the partially striped fur of the two Stone Tiger cubs as the wrestled around. The water of the spring was too close to the back of the smaller cub for the larger to resist the temptation: splash! The small cub yowled pitifully as he tried to walk on water. The mother of these two looked up and shook her head. The cubs, Emargo and Dew, were half-grown, and very playful. At least twice a day one of them took a dip in the freezing cold waters of the brook.
The mother, whose name was Keyani, stood and trotted over to Em. Leaning over, she firmly grasped his scruff in her jaws and pulled him, thrashing and sputtering, out of the water. Giving Dew a reproachful look, she started grooming her son with quick, short strokes. Dew gallumped over to his father, Nemain, and pounced his tail. With a growl, Nemain swatted Dew away with a paw and the cub rolled straight into the cold spring. Pa-loosh!
"Mrrrg." Nemain chastised himself, pulling Dew out of the water and grooming him roughly. Em dry, Keyani looked around to see what needed done. The rest of the pack, which had nearly thirty felines, had taken care of those with cubs very well; the defenses were secure. Keyani lay down, suddenly feeling the heaviness inside her, the only clue that she was pregnant. There may have been secure defenses, and her mate may have been a mere ten feet away, but, like an insight, she felt like she would soon need her defense, her only defense: herself. Keyani. Her claws and teeth and agility and rippling muscle. Her intelligence, her speed. Her.
Nemain stood and sniffed the air. His fur rose stiffly and he leapt upon the largest boulder, growling. No sounds, except for the rumbling snarl. The male straightened. "Intruders. Dew. Go tell the Simnohs. Trahes, Infernios. Go!" He snarled as he climbed down, bristling. Dew had a split second of astonishment before he took off, bounding along the stream's banks. Faster than Emargo, not to mention older and stronger, the cub disappeared from sight very quickly. Keyani silently trotted over to Em and picked up him. Without complaint, he let himself be carried to his den and dropped inside.
"How many females have newborns?" Nemain asked.
"Five," Keyani replied. They would be automatically out of the fight.
"Then there will be only twenty-two of us," Nemain muttered. Keyani did the familiar calculations in her head.
"No. Twenty-three," she corrected her mate.
"You are staying," Nemain ordered sternly.
The female snarled, drawing her lip back over her fangs. Nemain may be bigger than she, but she always had her way. Always.
Too late now, she thought as an Infernio leapt onto a boulder with fluid grace.
Nemain bellowed his rage to the huge feline, who returned a snarling hiss. Then, the Infernio attacked! Not Nemain, but Keyani. She sprang back and slashed out at its head, claws shot. Score! The Infernio had use of only one eye. Nemain tore towards the beast and, before it could turn, scrambled up on its back, planting his claws in tough hide securely. The Infernio, though over three times the Stone Tiger's size, was at a loss. Should it attack the female? Try to reach the male? Flee?
The Infernio roared a direct challenge at Nemain, thick tail lashing behind its long body. The male jumped off and faced it squarely. With a snarl, another Stone Tiger appeared. Keyani's sister, Oran, had been sent to help the small family. Unlike Nemain, Oran knew not to tell Keyani to stay out of a fight. The sisters began to stalk the Infernio, circling around to wind up on either side of Nemain. Hissing, the Infernio refused to back down. Suddenly, it lunged at Oran. Standing her ground, she crouched, prepared to take the blow. Keyani, however, darted behind the Infernio, planted her paws, clamped its striped tail in her jaws, and stopped the huge carnivore in its tracks. Nemain roared loudly as the Infernio swung around and snapped at Keyani. And missed. Wham! The Infernio took a hard blow right in the head, delivered by Nemain. Deciding it had had enough, the carnivore tore out of there, with Oran nipping at its heels. None of the Stone Tigers had been injured. Luckily.
A call from above echoed through the air. With a lightened heart, Oran bounded back to her sister and looked up at the CaraCara. The gargantuan bird spread its 60+ foot wingspan as it hovered, a small cub clutched in one talon. The cub was Tenya, Oran's own son. The huge avian gently dropped the cub before landing its bulk on a nearby rock. Reminded of cubs, Keyani nosed the rock off the entrance of her den. Emargo scampered out and went immediately to sniff at the crimson Infernio blood. Nemain cocked his head at Dew's pawprints and looked at his mate, worry tightening his muzzle.
Kk-vai! Kk-vai! BAI! A frightened cry for help seemed to stretch into silence. It was clearly Dew's voice. Then, the cries of cubs and kits filled the air, most less than half-grown... defenseless. Following that, direct-challenge screams could be heard from the mothers, going straight through the rocks, trees, the family's bones. Nemain bowed his head in grief. They would all die, almost certainly. Keyani flung herself forward into a lope abruptly, Oran following, down Dew's path. Head low and tail high as a banner of their intent, the sisters defied reason as they quickly came upon a boulder and sprang onto it. Their blazing eyes met the horrid, blood, death-ridden scene below them. At least two mothers gone, at least five cubs and kits dead. Their hearts froze. A full pack of Trahes ripped through the families. No hope.
Oran felt the rage, the helplessness more than Keyani. It was she who tackled a Trahe, nearly five times her size, and killed it. It was she who skinned the corpse and made a messy, bloody basket out of its hide. It was she who saved over a dozen newborns and several half-growns. Keyani valiantly tried to match her sister's effort, but only after getting herself nearly slaughtered a few times did she attack an Infernio instead, using its furred hide for a stretcher. However, she rescued an adult, along with the rest of the living infants. A full grown female. Unconscious, but if she was gotten to a healer soon enough, she would live. The rest of the pack finally arrived, and it went past battle, into slaughter. So many died. So many...
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After the Sacrifice... -- Nila, 10:59:45 03/03/02 Sun
I shook my head wearily. The slaughter had taken place, the butcher they say is 'sacrifice'. I turned away. Three splendid warriors that displayed actual kindness. That Swype could've killed the young one that got a little too close, but it didn't. And now they were dead. The world, the bloody, carrion-ridden world, had suffered another blow.
Bloody, carrion-ridden. Death-ridden. Populated by killers. The Madren force was so small, and it was such a big world. So close to being a lost cause. Would be, if species didn't continue to surprise us. Infernios, the dyoned, the killers, had agreed with us. Heifias, the savages, had as well. But we were still so few. And there were several bad shocks. Night Cats, and Korats, and my own species, the Nila, had turned out to be our deadliest foes. As had Trahes. As had Elas. The fight was so close to hopeless... but it wasn't. Not yet. Not while the Madreni were still there, and not while I was here to help. We would never rest, never give up, as long as there were enemies.
There were rumors, many rumors, that a dark force had begun to grow. Gaining power from the killing. The Madreni had already begun to refer to it as The Enemy. Rumor had it that The Enemy was to the evils as Creators were to the Madren force. Vital and powerful. But I had begun to realize that there was a new Power in the game, although they had not yet made their entrance. I had given them a simple name - The Watchers. I didn't know how much Power they had, or whose side they would take. I wasn't even sure that they even existed. Though I often talked to them in my mind or aloud, I had no proof that they were actually there. At least, I didn't until about three pelash ago.
I didn't write this. They did. I can't write at all, but this is exactly as it happened, every thought and movement true. Including these thoughts. This explanation. I'd seen a piece of veen scratching on an old tree, the bark so thin it appeared white. Nothing is supporting or touching the piece of veen. Nothing. It's them writing, not me. The lines are so thin that from a distance, you can't see anything out of the ordinary. And I wonder what would happen should someone else see, and read. If it were one from my clan, I would be immediately killed. Sacrificed. Butchered.
You see, my clan is an evil. A great evil. The mere fact that I remain with them could easily get my killed by all sides, even those who aren't aligned with the Madreni or the evils. It nearly has, many times. This is very disturbing, seeing my thoughts written. Very disturbing.
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Star-Gazing... -- Probably a Tioasm, but I'm not sure, 10:45:21 03/03/02 Sun
The stars burned silver-bright in the deep night sky. The creature laid on her back, relaxing and watching the stars spin and the moons move across the sky. Veron, the larger white orb, moved almost directly above the planet. The smaller red-gold moon, Xerachin, moved to cut off a small corner of the velvet, starry sky. Staring hard, the creature could make out one of the sister-planets. Perhaps it is Terole, she thought mildly. The darkened globe did have a yellow-brown tint to it. After a quickl calculation, she nodded to herself. Shakala, the other sister-planet, was on the other side of this planet, which was of course Lavana.
The creature's bright silver eyes mirrored the stars' celestial light as she gazed at them, peaceful now after a hard day's work. But then, she sighed lightly and stood. Star gazing was relaxing indeed, and a priority in her life, but there was still much to be done, even at night. She turned to the dark forest and smoothly padded towards it, passing silently under the concealing eaves of the glade and out of the silvery moonlight.
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Gotta love boats... no, really, you do... or at least racing them... -- Humans, 10:38:52 03/03/02 Sun
"Yo-Jay-watch-out!" I yelled, swerving my own skiff to dodge the rock. Jay, right ahead of me, missed it by about an inch. I heard a scraping sound and realized that I had veered onto a very high volcanic cone, its top probably only ten or so feet below the surface.
Jay yelled back at me, "Keep going! Only about twenty more feet!" My keep rumbling, I unleashed a small sail. It caught wind and shoved me forwards, off the top.
I threw Jay a rope and yelled, "Hang onto this! I'm gonna check my keel!" He caught the rope easily and nodded. I flung off my boots and leapt overboard. Forcing my eyes open, despite the sting of saltwater, I managed to reach the keel. Feeling my way down the length of the skiff, I discovered the keel was relatively undamaged. I let go and swam up quickly. Gulping for air as I reached the surface, I hauled myself back up.
Jay laughed at my soaking wet form and threw me my rope. I recoiled it and turned to my controls. Just as I reached the bow, the wind blew in from the east and both our skiffs swung out hard, Jay's nearly capsizing. I quickly and carefully closed the keel and lowered my sails. My onward rush slowed slightly. I grimaced and prepared to lower my main sail. But before I could, the wind slowed to a gentle sea-breeze.
Jay swung up alongside me. With a grin, he saluted me and opened sail - a signal that there were the rest of the racers in sight. Indeed, I could now hear their motors, laboring to catch our two skiffs. I laughed and released my banner number and the stern sail. The sail caught the now nor'westerly wind and shoved me forward. I opened my keel to compensate and flung the streaks wide open. My bow was at least a foot above the frothy waves.
Such a beautiful day, I thought to myself mildly, letting my speed-wind blow back my hair. Especially when Jay and I come blowing into port a full day ahead of the others. I laughed again.
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Medieval-ness... -- Human, Demon, 10:29:34 03/03/02 Sun
I slipped quietly down the dark hallway, broadsword held at ready. I strained my ears, trying to detect any approaching footsteps. None. I reached the corner and stopped. Lifting my sword high, I sprang around the corner, swinging my blade down to block any blow. There was no one, friend or foe, in the corridor. I was getting edgy now; for the past half-hour I had stalked the castle's dank halls and found nothing. No doors, windows, living or dead things. Just hall upon hall upon hall, branching out endlessly. Sighing, I leaned lightly against the wall. Making a chop at the corner with my sword to mark my way, I continued silently, not even the stone floor echoing my footsteps.
The dim gloom continued to shine, if you could call it shining, from the stone walls. Blocks, stones, hallways, corridors, gloom. Nothing more, nothing less. I wondered briefly if I would ever get out, or find my imprisoned friends and free them, or meet the fabled Dead Warrior-King, and have the chance to defeat him. I could, of course, turn back, but my code of honour would not allow it.
I padded down the mazeway, as I had begun to think of it, sword out and steady, listening for any sound. I felt like I would almost welcome a foe, or even a trap in the walls or floor. It was silent. I trod around the next sharp bend and sprang backwards to dodge the disemboweling slash of the demon's claws. Rapidly I moved to the attack, swinging my blade diagonally before me then stepping forward, turning a defensive move into an offensive one. The demon dodged with lightning speed and flicked out its ginsu-dagger claws at my throat. My sword rang as I blocked the blow. Springing to the side as the demon charged, I swung my sword in front of it. It twisted aside and tumbled, leaped to its talons instantly.
I paced away carefully, blade pointed towards the demon, backing into the hallway from whence it came. It bared its yellow fangs menacingly and snarled. I listened carefully for any possible thread behind me as the demon stalked forward. Nothing. The demon lunged again, claws extended. I flung myself against a wall and swung my sword with all my strength. This time I connected.
My blade sliced through a heavily muscled arm and into the demon's broad chest, tearing through bone, flesh, and organs until erupting from its back. The demon, cut neatly in half, fell with a sickening thud as blood spurted wildly, colouring the grey walls crimson. Then, as all demons did, it began to melt into a puddle of oozing black sludge. I wiped my sword off with a oil rag, saluted the growling pool of slime and gore, and strode away.
Now I was getting somewhere. I had met a guard, who had, no doubt, heard my approaching and went to kill me. I doubted that I would have any more demon problems... unless I met more than two or three at a time. Three demons against myself would be about even. Anticipating more action in the near future, I continued down the dark corridor...
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Petition... -- Nigia, Creator, Anella, 09:30:12 03/03/02 Sun
A powerful black-furred beast stands alone on a mountain top, the brisk and chill wind fluttering his thick mane about his proud head. Tail tuft twitching idly, four muscular legs straight and holding his noble form easily still -despite the force of the wind and the iciness of the bare rock- Moneshai turns his golden gaze upwards, his shimmering eyes searching the one who would give him answers. A sonorous voice booms out of the cloudy sky:
~Why have you come?~
The Nigia Original answers calmly, not in the least awed to be in the presence of that which could destroy him, his species, and his world with the flick of an eye - if, that is, Creators have eyes.
I have come to ask something of you. And I will not deal with your pets this time.
A roll of thunder, or perhaps laughter, echoes across the clouds.
~You presume much, Moneshai. You should be honoured that even my pet would speak to you.~
The black male snorts. He cares nothing for rank or prestige. Honour, yes, but honour in battle or in governing -such as he does- his people. Unwillingly, his mind flickers to his past mate. A Creator had killed her out of spite, in the prime of her life. As an Original, and an old one at that, the Nigia has had many mates, and loved them all with his soul. Of the Line Nigias are not common, no, but nor is their number limited to one, as is Redwood's Line.
Two things I am going to speak with you about, one far more pressing than the other.
Dropping his polite, reverent tone, the male assumes one of strength - his usual tone in dealing with any Lavanian that he does not detest. Flicking his ears, he duly notes the Creator's continued presence, as well as a flicker of lightning high above that signifies an anella is nearby. However, the powerful spirit is trying to annoy him; the wind begins to howl viciously, shoving at his massive frame and tearing at his night-dark fur, and suddenly his paws find little purchase on the steep slope.
~Speak, then, Moneshai. Surely the more pressing matter is how to revenge your dead mate?~
No. There are 32 huntable species on Lavana that I know of. How many are numerous enough to make a difference? Four. Helks and Byms are numerous but not wide-spread. Thus the only true food-sources we have, aside from fish, birds, and foliage, are Preda Bens and Quomais.
~Your point, little Nigia?~
Unless you want me and mine to start Banaying some nonsentients into Original, sentient food sources, I suggest one of you Creators put your omnipresent mind to work and supply some meat.
Flattening his ears as the wind succeeds in shoving him a bit farther towards the edge, where undoubtedly a fall down the mountainside would kill him, the black beast digs his silvery-black claws into the icy rock, staring with nearly-glowing eyes up at the gray skies. Then, the huge voice answers amusedly,
~If you have the means to do so, what forces you to, against your will and pride, to come to a Creator for help?~
Moneshai snarls, tail whipping back and forth.
You well know why! I do not hunt sentients. Nor do my kind. Some predators on Lavana make no distinction but most certainly do. I have not the skill to Baenae one nonsentient into another nonsentient, as the curse requires intelligence to feel the pain and suffering enacted. You Creators made this curse and gave it down to us, you know this as well as I!
Another thunderous laugh elicits a snarling growl from the Nigia, though he knew the Creator was not afraid. Quite suddenly, the spark of lightning drops, condensing into a massively powerful draconic being. As Moneshai feels the Creator leave, he roars, the sound silencing the wicked wind.
~Calm yourself, Lavanian. I will help you.~
The anella's sweetly musical voice sends chills up the male's spine, and he turns his shining orbs to her blazing form, golden fire flickering around the glimmering scales. Then, he freezes as the anella transmits another part of the Baenae to him, such that will allow him to curse a nonsentient into a nonsentient. Along with the information comes an amused feeling of reproach, as though chiding the Original for thinking the Creators gave them all of the Baenae. Then, her fiery form vanishes, leaving behind the smell of electricity and Crazouli deposits. Silently the black feline turns and makes his way down the cliffs, mind whirling with this new knowledge and the enormity of the task he has undertaken.
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Run, run, as fast as you can, you can't catch me, I'm the racer-man! -- Hresahr, 08:48:11 03/03/02 Sun
A smooth, long-limbed creature keeps up a steady lope, dark brown fur rippling with the play of muscles underneath. Patterned by a splattering of blonde-furred rosettes, the Hresahr has no intent or goal set for the day, aside from hunting. Spotting several hooved felines grazing, he pulls back thin lips in a grin. Lowering his lean form, the predator increases speed, so much that so when he leaps from the rock, he's merely a blur of colour to the grazers. Shrieking wildly, the prey try to escape, but the Hresahr's calculated leap lands him right on one's back, snapping the spine. A quick rip at the throat, and the beast is dead. Allowing the rest to stampede frantically, the speedy hunter feeds himself. Yawning boredly, he then continues his 'slow' lope into the distance.
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*A Talk of Telepathy* -- Multiple Canises, 22:49:53 03/02/02 Sat
Karanshi: Any who may hear me respond if you are able.
Seleth: I, Seleth, hear you and respond.
Paytol: I, Paytol, hear you and respond.
Telvar: I, Telvar, hear you and respond.
Karanshi: SELETH! It's been so long! I take it Terole has not blown up while your four paws were upon it.
Seleth: Terole has not blown up at all Karan... But Crrh? Is it all in one piece?
Karanshi: All in one piece, yes.
Paytol: The Queen Vekindar's an idiot though.
Telvar: PAYTOL?!?!
Seleth: In what way?
Karanshi: We're fine.
Seleth: That's nice, what's going on with Queen Amaka.
Paytol: Errr...
Seleth: What's going on.
Paytol: She's not in control anymore... she died.
Seleth: WHAT?
Karanshi: Old Age... supposedly...
Telvar: New king Kmador reinforced the Superiority laws!
Seleth: I can't believe this... are you working now?
Karanshi: No, the pups and I have avoided her guard, staying on the clouds. Others were not so lucky.
Seleth: Hrm... Well... Stay away, the life of a kjarr is no life at all... I cant imagine how she's got the gall to do that... Certainly MasterWizards are fighting against her guards with ease?
Karanshi: Not really... She's trained in the Art herself.
Putek: I, Putek, Sign into this conversation.
Karanshi: Pups... Aunt Seleth and I need to have a conversation... sign off.
Paytol: Oh alright... I, Paytol, [SIGN OFF]
Telvar: I, Telvar, [SIGN OFF]
Putek: No.
Seleth: Come on Putek...
Putek: *sigh* Fine.. I, Putek, [SIGN OFF]
Karanshi: The Foster pups and I will be fine...
Seleth: And you? Expecting a litter of your own? I know that your mate's a fine warrior... but you being pregnant can't use your majick for purpose beyond communication... Do you need me out there?
Karanshi: No... they can't go on the clouds... and the last attempt for the Superority only lasted so long.... soon Kmadar will be overthrown and the dyone Vekindars will have a good ruler again who'll understand Canis's are equal to the Khaudar empire.
Seleth: Keep in touch with me... I'm only a 'port away.
Karanshi: You've a new planet now... they need you...
Seleth: Karanshi... I've cared for you your whole life, I won't leave you now just to protect a planet with warriors beyond even a Gold Vekindar's wildest imagination.
Karanshi: I'm alright Seleth... really... I, Karanshi, [SIGN OFF]
Seleth: I, Seleth, [SIGN OFF]
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The Battle Maiden -- Derrvas, 23:35:18 02/23/02 Sat
*The old Derrva awakens, her black fur now mottled with grey, her hide covered in patchy scars, some deeper then others. She opens her eyes slowly, and in the notion of one who has been in many high intensity situations, swiftly raises her head, looking left and right in under a second. Once assured of her safety she raises her upper half, front legs locking to suport her large mass. Her back legs shake with the effort of raising, but raise they do, arthritus evident in their stiff movement. Once up the Derrva extends her neck, grimacing slightly as it cracks loudly. Her teeth clench together slightly as she focuses on her tails, a small flame and spark of electricity is the result of her efforts... She sighs, and lifting her head to the sky makes the descsion she'd been discussing for days... Er ex ryna...
*She concentrates on moving foreward and soon has gotten herself to a slow lope. Her gray eyes focus upon the high red cliffs in the distance. Broken claws thudding dully against the dirt she makes her way to these cliffs, and reaches them within the hour. Her teeth clinch together as she falls back onto her haunches, and with a roar of frustration, her back legs straighten and she is propelled into the air. Foreclaws scrabbling desperately upon the dusty rock, she curls a strained back, pushes off the rock with her hind legs and forces herself upwards. She then collapses upon the rock body wet with prespiration.*
*She rises once again after a few minutes, body aching and weary. Grey eyes lift to the sky... "Yr'z daam mysa." And then she turns her head back down out to the horizon... And she screams.*
*It's a ripping sound, tearing through the hearts of any who hear it, it's a sound that for most, signifies ultimate sacrifice, sadness, and anger. It is the sound of one's own soul, one's reason for living, leaving their body. It is the sound of one who has given their life for others and now, despairs, because they must give up this life to one who could continue to protect others as they could not. The sound echoes amongst the planet, and most Derrva's cringe slightly from the horrible noise. But some do not, and these competitors all let out low roar-howls in response to the echoing scream. The old Battle Maiden responds in another echoing scream, and to the trained ear, the low rumbling of many paws can be heard, as the competitors race to the cliff-side where the elder Derrva has now fallen, her eyes closed ever-more in the mysterious sleep of death.*
*The rumbling grows as the other Derrva's race to watch the competition. Mumbles of voices can be heard as rumors fly amongst the steadily coming packs. Most rumors of the chosen favorite, Patvikanshi. The huge green rosetted femme was simply destined to win the voices cry, her ultimate skill and power was unmatched by any other femme in all the Southern packs. But perhaps the voices would be wrong this time...*
*Patvikanshi rumbled encouragement to her younger sister, Temalakaisa, as they ran together. She was sure she would win but she urged her orange flecked sibling forwards... it would be easier if Temala was her opponent... she knew her fighting style. And besides, she'd planned to fight Temala for the longest time, and everything was running smoothly... If only the slither dolt of a sister would hurry it up! Igniting her flame tail she scorches the younger femmes behind and sends her tearing across the orange plains. Chuckling to herself she races after her.*
*Passing her sister and reaching the rock first Patvikanshi leaps to it, turns around mid air, and hits it with all three tail-blades. She grins at her sister. "UUavv, jyr yr!" The younger Derrva shakes her head and aimes her gaze to a crett behind Patvi. The green-rosetted turns around to be face to face with perhaps one of the few Derrva's built for speed and muscle rather then the average brute strength. Nonetheless Patvi snorts, the smaller silver ticked Derrva's head only came half way up her neck, and it was so scrawny looking! The smaller Derrva grinned broadly back at her. The green-rosetted glared with contempt at the silver-ticked, her anger over-flooded her mind and she barely noticed as the trickle over other packs formed a ring around them. Twas only the silver's laughter that startled her out of her glare, and suddenly, realizing the attention was on her, she grinned happily to the crowd around her, batting her eyes at a few of the younger males who looked decent. Then she turned to Lejanthratoru and cheesily bowed her head. "UUa thybjr thuhr vucyxyum ex Derrva Neybam! Y Patvikanshi, challenge you to fight." *The green-rosetted lifted her head and waited for the silver's customary response... But she was soon agasp by the imprudence of the younger Derrva before her*
"Mysa ru naar iuo Patvi. Y'n Lejanthratoru. Hraebi ro bya?"
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Sleep... -- Sachi and Fuzz, 22:42:56 02/04/02 Mon
Nestled deep under the eaves of a gigantic tree, the trunk's girth measuring at least 25 meters, were two forms. One, the larger, doggedly kicked off rich black soil from a mound on a root. Feeling a tug on her tailtuft, Sachi tossed her muzzle over her shoulder and regarded her pup-companion. "Leave off, Fuzz, I'm almost done," she mumbled, knowing the infant was far too young to understand her yet. Obediently enough, the little Rion backed up, sat down, and barked, her head cocked endearingly with big ears flopped. "Honestly," Sachi laughed lightly, reaching out a forepaw to ruffle the fluffy fur of the pup. "You'll be the death of me yet, Fuzz." Yipping her agreement, Fuzz bounced near her guardian's paws, tripping over her own occasionally. Finally carving out a hollow to sleep in, the Zenne circled several times before proclaiming the night fit to be spent in slumber. "C'mon, pup," she muttered, amused at Fuzz's antics, before scruffing her and lifting her up. As one, the two yawned hugely, Sachi's whiskers flaring. "Night, pup." Suddenly very tired, the Zenne curled up, before sprawling again, finding a comfortable position with Fuzz nestled between her forelimbs and against her thickly-furred chest. Content, soon all that could be heard was deep breathing, hiccups, and soft little snores, the latter two emitted from the Rion.
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Rain... -- A Swype, 21:57:34 02/04/02 Mon
The darkened, moisture-heavy clouds hang low in the sky, emitting a continuous downpour of cool drops. The rocky forest below is shrouded in heavy mist, nothing to be seen past ten meters away. Wreathed in this greyness, drenched by the cleansing rains sits a lone Swype, the graceful Athian unmoving. Her long limbs are folded and her tail is wrapped tightly around her body, as though protecting her from unknown danger; certainly not the gentle downpour. Golden eyes shine out for a brief moment before a blink extinguishes their soft light. Water running in rivulets through the short, smooth grey fur, it almost appears that the downpour seeks to comfort and console the femme in her grief. For the first time, noticed are the tears that slip down her long muzzle, trembling down her sleek whiskers to drop, like the rain, to the fertile soil. Slender paws hesitantly gripping the earth, seeking stability, find only shifting mud. Nothing but illusions and pain. Slowly, ever so slowly, the Swype's head raises, and quietly pained orbs flicker open, staring into the thickening fog around her. As though beseeching the sky to lend her answers to unanswerable questions, she locks her gaze onto the clouds, so near as to be touched, and the young Lavanian lets the rain cleanse her tears and wash her pain away.
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*EVIL LAUGHTER* -- Denduus!, 22:25:50 02/03/02 Sun
*A herd of the small black and white panda-bear furballs float into the area, they whirr and whistle and squeak and yip and tackle each other with glee. All are well fed from a recent meal of Surf and Turf (Troutcat and a Kierrn's skin cells) and thus get up to sing their tribal dance. Though non-sentient, the little creatures join together in a circle, holding paws, and start doing a can-can/Hora like dance while chanting a few words.... which meaningless to them.... are a tribal tradition*
Dvest emb uujyra!
Ehra rja hrybjr!
Daxr suvuhrx iuo alahr tmauu!
Yth iuo alahr naar hrak bhraam uhr dvoa...
Iuo hoxr xei, ruubva-buu!
Y sem'r xrei uuyrj iuo!
Emb rjam iuo sem bu juna emb xei!
*They continue chanting...eventually switching to a song from another planet... but just as stupid... and just as annoying*
This is the food that doesn't end,
Yes it goes on and on my friend,
some denduus... started lickin it not knowing what it was,
and they'll continue lickin it forever just because,
it is the food...
*eventually they break out into some old movie favorites*
I've got a lovely bunch of mammals, deedle-ey-dee-dee,
there they are a standing in a row, dum de dum de dum,
big ones small ones lick them till their dead!
*then, tribal chants over, they rush away in Petz 1 greatdane form as the big dad-monsta swats at them towards their little bed-like burrows.... AAAAAH RUNAWAY!*
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Center... -- Challna and co., 14:59:51 02/03/02 Sun
Finally, together, the pair staggered into open, gently waving grass. Limbs shaking with the effort of staying upright, the Icza raised her eyes to look upon the huge girth of the Kusani's trunk, the broad golden leaves moving softly and glinting in the muted light. "We made it, Dize, we made it," Challna says, her voice rough, before collapsing onto the rich soil. The Tlaemae managed to lift his brown muzzle to look upon their starting point, before he, too, crumpled. Dize and Challna had gone through battles, friends, allies, enemies, danger, and paced across thousands of leagues to arrive at this spot. They had circled their world, the first ever to do so, and the last for a long, long time.
Only minutes behind them, a ragged, slender grey form emerges from the treeline and falls beside his friends. Moments later, a fourth white form staggers up and falls, but not before locking eyes on the tree and sighing. Muzzle pressed into the grass, Tsas speaks mentally. I still have a good bit to go, before it's official that I've gone the distance. The grey male groans audibly. Yeh, Hiwto, same with you. Dize opens one gold eye to regard his companions. The look of confusion leads Tsas to 'voice' his thought for him. Where are all the beings? Challna's smooth shoulders twitch in a shrug, and slowly, her twined tails unwind to lay limply on the sweet-smelling grass.
Muting another groan, the grey Swype pulls himself upright, or at least into a slouching seated position. You're nuts, Hiwto, the Blane opined silently, her furry form unmoving. "May be, but I have a while to go, as you do," he retorted in a mumble, blinking keen eyes and taking in his surroundings. Impishly, Tsas kicked out a hind leg, connected with Hiwto's fore, and sent him crumpling weakly to the ground. "Then again," he muttered into the earth, silver orbs closing again. That's right. Sleep, the Blane instructed, taking her own advice and passing into the grey realm. Slowly, each of the four explorers slips gently into the healing sleep of the weary.
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The Name -- ~~~, 22:33:11 02/02/02 Sat
*Two large black Derrva watch patiently from red overhangs as their long electric tails soar through the dark night sky. The shimmering glimpses of speeding electricity shine in the two yellow eyes of the Kierrn below. She watches them calmly, her body long and lanky with slightly muscular shoulders well practiced for the events this evening. Her paws are short, but clench with determination as she begins her ascention of the tallest red cliff... in search of a name. A name, a trivial meaningless word except for the fact that in truth, a name means everything. It defines who you are, defines how you act, defines how people think of you. A name cannot be chosen so quickly and then tossed aside if unwanted. A name is forever.
The Kierrn shrugs her shoulders back then clasps both paws upon the lowest rock. Giving a quick heave she pulls herself up so that her hind paws rest upon the lowest edge, and her fore paws now grasp a higher one. Yet again she pulls and she makes her way up, a bit of the reddish dirt falls into her eye but she shakes her head swiftly and removes it. Again she rises and her shoulder muscules cringes slightly, not from the small effort so far but the agnoizing realization of the efforts to go. But the name will be reached at the top of this mountain and so the mountain she must climb.
She continues up for at least two hours, her muscules agonizing every pull she makes. Her tail flisks desperately behind her, feeling the high, cool air and accepting it wearily. Her arms shake with exertion but upwards she continues to climb, her every movement sending her abused nerves alight with firey pain. She clenches her teeth and continues onward, for another good three hours. She makes it to 5 feet from the top. She cannot move. Clinging desperately to the side of the red rock cliff her red and black sides heave, the Kierrn is out of breath. She glances upwards, her long muzzle pointing in the direction she wished to go but couldn't... and why was she doing this? All for a name, a simple name, a word that she would be recognized as... A word she could bear with pride and say "This is my name!" A name she would have forever. Wild adrenaline rips through her blood, a strangled howl leaves her thrat and she throws herself upwards, and grasps the final edge. She grips it with her short forepaws and pulls, with all her might, her muscles searing with dangerous agony, the training she had given them completely gone.
And then she rises, rises with strength she didn't know was within her. She rises and collapses on the top ledge of the mountain, and she lays there.
But only for a moment, struggling to her paws she stands, and glimpses the world around her... darkened by Night she cannot see much, but merely breathes the cool air and smiles. She slowly lifts her arms out to this dark world, and takes the darkness into her body. She raises her voice as well, singing to whomever would listen. The words have no real understood meaning, but are simply sung for the sake of singing.
Katala guandi shara, Katala gomoroza, kipa, kipa, shamalatidora. Kayfa, Kayfa, shamalatidora. Pekashami shetsukami, shamalatidora! Pekantidor tekavinasa rejakantir... Shamalatidora!
*Yet again the unsensible words rip from her mouth, this time in the language of her planet*
Show Yourself Namer, Show Sense and Determination, keep, keep, leading me. Arise Arise, leading me. Good fortunate awaits thee, leading me. Praise unending guidence... Leading Me!
*At the end of her song a volcano erupts in the night air. She turns towards it, and watches the billowy smoke rise from the massive molten fire. She smiles warmly as then a firey comet soars overhead, and she raises a paw to follow it's lighted path. Her head then jerks back to where she had once looked as the sun begins to rise. She howls welcome to it's light and heat. Nodding to the Unnamed Namer who has spoken without words, she hereby accepts the name of Flame... and begins her descent back down to the Earth.*
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Hunt... -- Tyvars, 14:28:25 02/02/02 Sat
Silent glances are exchanged between harshly coloured eyes, and as one the two Tyvars slink forward, their paws not making a sound on the rich black soil. That which they stalk remains unaware of its inevitable death, and continues grazing the bark of huge-girthed trees calmly, small jaws stoically chewing. Once more, the two pairs of alert orbs lock, before the smaller beast twitches her crest in assent. Both sculpted muzzles turn to watch their prey's lumbering progress, the predators barely breathing.
Then, one long ear twitches backwards, and the herbivore raises its small head, peering directly at the female. The brightly coloured animal freezes, not daring to blink, before their quarry bellows, shaking the forest with the blast of noise. Hissing her annoyance, the female doesn't otherwise move, as her partner crouches low. Slowly moving her weight from all four legs to her hind legs, the huntress keeps her eyes focused on the herbivore. The male slinks forwards as the prey bellows again, then he springs. Hind paws thudding firmly against the beast's flank, he digs his foreclaws into the back, head dipping to tear viciously at the vulnerable, furless flesh. The herbivore thrashes, but the female drops to all fours again and flings herself forward, forelimbs reaching out and slashing at the prey's head with four-inch claws. Staggered, the herbivore tries to turn and run, but a single swipe of the female's tail decapitates it and the heavy body collapses, sprawled on the forest floor.
The male keeps his perch, looking at his companion emotionlessly until, licking his jaws, he grins approvingly. ||You learn well, Shraerohra. Good strike.|| The younger Tyvar nods her head, accepting the praise. ||Thank you, Daexr. But I was spotted.|| Her older brother snorts and retorts laughingly, ||No, you're swirled,|| referring to her patterns of vivid green, red, and violet colours. Grinning dryly, the huntress pads forward to share in her kill as the hunter dips his muzzle, ripping a strip of flesh away.
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Creation... -- Fate, 10:23:29 02/02/02 Sat
A barren, black-earthed planet spins slowly in the deepest reaches of space, a red giant radiating warmth millions of miles away. A presence forms, a whisper in the cosmos, but nothing can be seen, nothing more than a flicker of starlight. Then, abruptly, the black planet shoves towards the star, stopping at a perfect distance to let life evolve. Its many moons tag along, before making a new route of revolution around the huge planet. This is good, an invisible, inaudible voice sighs, speaking a tongue known to all inherently, none consciously. Then, the faint shine of starlight vanishes, and all is as it now is.
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Storms! -- Some black Korat femme..., 19:42:06 01/30/02 Wed
A crack of thunder shook the land, and the Korat could feel the shock wave slam through her body. Shaken, she hunkered down against the damp, cold ground and waited for the ringing in her ears to stop. Soon enough, she knew, the rains would come, but for now the massive clouds remained a dry storm. Her muddy black fur camoflauged her nicely against the dark night. A thick bolt of electrical energy split the air, connecting for a fatal moment the earth and sky. The bolt was only a few dozen meters away, close enough to elicit a startled yell from the Korat's black-furred throat. The impact of the following thunder ripped through her strong frame, tumbling her sideways. With a low grunt, she rolled upright and crouched, now shaking with fear. Rain, please, she silently implored the looming clouds. Clumps of wet grass, twigs, and brambles sticking to her usually glossy hide, the Korat didn't appear to belong to one of the strongest species on Lavana. She coughed harshly, her muscles trembling from the downwards force she was exerting on her body. Afraid for her life, she waited for the rains to begin.
The howling of the twister grew steadily louder as it ripped violently through the sparse forest, tossing trees aside with pure negligence. A Korat ran full-out, heart pumping and power defining her every fear-laced stride. Ears slicked back to a canine skull, she bared vicious fangs in a wild grimace as she ran, top speed, away from the tornado. Dulled claws dug into the muddy earth, powerful limbs propelling the black beast forward and tossing side to side to avoid contact with hundred-meter-wide trees. Such trees were being flung heedlessly, crushing the underbrush and any creature that might've taken shelter. A cry of terror was wrenched from the muscular throat as a branch, at least a dozen meters wide, hurtled over her rain-soaked body and crashed to the ground. The wind howled and the storm gained on the fleeing Korat. Eyes wide with horror and desperation, she stretched her limbs to their utmost, recklessly shooting forward. Another wind shriek and a gnarled root caught her unaware. Tripping, her lithe form flew through the downpour, cartwheeling until making contact with a tree trunk. Crumpled and bloody, the Korat slid down to the mud, lifeless.
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A moment of unexpected tenderness... -- Redwood and Drael, 16:52:48 01/30/02 Wed
Nothing betrays the male's presence, not sound, scent, nor sight, but the thick red muzzle tosses slightly to the side, whiskers flaring briefly. "Drael," the husky voice greets, the normally-stony tone warm with welcome. "Redwood," comes the bass reply, pale silver orbs taking in his mate's healthy appearance with sure approval. Tail blade twitching idly, the Original glances over her shoulder, icy blue eyes amused as they meet the black's gaze. Drael moves to his mate's flank, dropping his muzzle to brush her powerful shoulder. "How's the cub?" he questions, inquiring after their only living son, a small tan male. "The chirrling is fine. Healthy." A hint of maternal emotion can be detected in the low tone. Sprawling out gracefully, Drael leans heavily against Redwood's thickly-furred flank, sharing a brief moment of contact. Surprisingly, the femme leans towards her mate as well, nuzzling him lightly in a rare display of affection. Aside from deep breathing, the fur-against-fur rustle is the only sound to be heard in the dark forest, not even an Elei chirping. Simultaneously, two thunderous purrs erupt from heavily muscled throats, and Redwood tucks her muzzle under the black's chin, icy eyes closed. The thick tails twine, blades dimly clinking together in a silvery note. The two mated Korats need no words, nor even body language to communicate. Even warriors have hearts.
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A Gathering... -- Korats, 17:44:40 01/23/02 Wed
Muted growls and thuds of amiably-whapped flesh, not to mention the collective breathing of over fifty individuals, are the only sounds to be heard on a silent, overcast day. The three colours mix easily, lanky tans nimbly dodging the hulking reds and the more graceful blacks. Even among one breed, the differences in shade are incredible. A reddish-gold beast paces alongside a deep, almost black-red male; a nearly-white femme steps out of a deep, vibrantly gold-furred Korat's way. The blacks, however, vary little in shade, from deep black to black, never anything that may be mistaken for a light grey. Only one thing, other than their creed, unites these fifty-some creatures - they are all Of the Line. Not by far all those Of the Line, yet the Korats present are skilled fighters, proud warriors, and intelligent beings. The sun is a mere haze of reddish aura in a grey-lavender sky, larger and lower clouds scudding across the horizon as though wandering aimlessly. A coughing roar catches all's attention.
"We have worthy opponents now." The speaker is a huge, muscular black male, his two-foot-long tail blade glinting silver in the diffused light. "Kumayaki. Khauvin. Vekindar. Meure. Perhaps even Dracai and Tuatha." Brilliantly blazing eyes gleam pale silver as they regard the now-still Korats. "These we know, from our own world: Yosha, Nigia, Maned Heifia, some Sub-Athias, Hork-Bar, Kenina, Raptor, Icza, even Tlaemae and yes, Sub-Korat." Most of the gathered beasts protest silently, drawing their lips back to show ivory fangs in disagreement. "Sub-Korats are from us, and for us, they are worthy opponents." The steely tone stifles all arguement immediately. "There are some I have heard of, but never had proof... these are Kastila, Ayax, Lyco, Kalmien, Zylten, and Quoam-Ina." Heavy brows sink over the silver orbs, casting shadows deep into the white-flecked depths. "Our kindred weaken. The tan breed is no longer a breed of swift and deadly raiders. The reds are no longer unstoppable beasts of destruction, though by far this is the colour that stays closest to their warrior code. The blacks are no more the graceful, efficient killers that they once were." The massive adult stands proudly, his burly shoulders reaching six, seven feet of height, and every inch of him proclaiming him a dangerous Korat. "My name is Drael." Every pair of intelligent eyes widen at the rather famous name, a few younger ones dipping their muzzles in an awed bowing motion.
The majestic black steps down from the boulder on which he had stood, allowing his kindred to mull these new species names over a little, and to digest the fact that yes, Redwood's mate was alive and among them still. At thought of the blue-eyed red, the male chuckles, the sound more growling thunder than mirth. They had just better be glad that Redwood herself wasn't instructing them... indeed. Tossing a sculptured muzzle over his shoulder and observing the quietly-conversing gathering as he strides easily away, Drael laughs again.
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