Cleaning up files off of one network drive at work, I found a story I had once begun.
I think, if my evenings are going to be this boring for the next month, I'm going to be picking it up again and try to finish it a little more. Well, not finish really, just continue.
So here, in it's raw format, is the story so far.
The Tales of LMA
-Acknoval, Lhovare Territory
-Hovac 3, 3962 RH
Muted blue light bounced of the filament-thin whiskers of the lurking lapine. The shadows of the corridor obscured the rabbit's presence well, but the ever-moving whiskers just couldn't be hidden.
The noises heard from up the stonework hallways were approaching, as well as the orange light from the torches growing brighter. Sounds of armor plating clanking against each other, and against the floor. The gruff voices of the guards, laughing as they discussed something in their native tongue.
How she ever got talked into this was beyond her. She looked to her left, to the crack behind the pillar. It was just outlined in the pale blue of the combined moonlight, but the entrance was still unnoticeable to people who weren't looking for it.
Waiting until just the right moment, the rabbit moved, pulling the small thread she had laid earlier, causing a few stones to move behind where the guards were now. The clanking of metal stopped, and a few whispers were heard. More like growls of hunger than of entertainment.
When the torchlight started to move away from her position, she pulled her deep burgundy cloak tight around her, and reached the crevice in three long, silent strides. She pressed the stonework in a combination of places the lupine paws were never meant to master, and the telltale click let her know the door had been opened. She squeezed her way clear of the corridor, and into the darkness beyond the opened stonework, closing the door ever so slowly, praying to the Goddess that the hinges would not squeak.
The door clicked shut quietly. The light was gone completely.
She closed her eyes, crouching to the ground and thanked the Goddess for her good fortune. After a minute had passed she opened her eyes, letting them adjust to the darkness. Ahead of her and parallel to the corridor ran a small tunnel.
Taking a deep breath, the rabbit started on her trek. The sack at her side caught on the rough-hewn stone a few times, but the strap held. Fifteen minutes later, she turned a sharp corner, and the blue moonlight on the ground ahead of her killed her night sight.
She emerged from the tunnel on the outside of the fortress walls, and started to run for the trees, gratefully accepting the freedom they brought to her, and soon to her fellow outlaws. She could scarcely believe she'd managed to get out with the papers.
~~~~~
-Acknoval, Naarval Protectorate
-Ciell 18, 3963 RH
The cold ripped through the coverings, stinging at the furred skin underneath. Mikken hated the winter months. He hated how the snow fell. He hated how his fur changed colour to match the white curse. He hated how the winds blew and how the food all but vanished under several meters of snow.
But most of all, Mikken hated this trip.
"We must do this for the lives of our brethren," Joven had said. "For the lives of all those in servitude to those dogs. We must find the Forbidden, and then we must do what we fear most."
Just words. But the words held some sort of meaning to Mikken. He couldn't explain why, but they looped in his brain again and again. Every time the wind broke its way under the woven cap and bit at his ears he heard the voice echoed.
"Are we there yet?" he called out over the wind, hoping to receive an answer from the leader of their group.
The stalky mouse turned to his troupe. "Not until we get to the point on the map that was provided," he said. "And if you ask one more time, I'm going to make sure you get assigned to hole duty for the next month. Now move!"
Grudgingly, Mikken pulled his hat down low and stuck his hands in his pockets.
"Yes, Sir!" he quipped at the mouse. For that he got an indignant stare, but the line started moving again.
All for the Forbidden on Irrix's maps. No one actually knew what the Forbidden was, but it was rumoured to be either a utopia, or a weapon. Either way, Joven wanted it for to liberation. Joven wanted to makes the wolves pay for what they have done to the non-predatory races.
At least, that's what he had said.
Three months they've been traversing this landscape, watching as the leaves fell, watching the green-brown land turn to white under the blanket of winter. Three months of stop and go through the flatland forests and the hills had started to take its toll on the band of rodents.
The spot on the map might be a cave, might be a door. It may not even exist at all. The maps were drawn from the folk tales and snippets of ghost stories. Most of them involved the Smooths.
Smooths were supposed to look something like the monkeys, but with no hair. No one has ever seen one of these Smooths, but stories about some of their tracks being found in remote areas come and go every few years. No one ever put much stock into these stories.
The sun started to descend past the horizon behind them, casting a bright pink across the sky. Purple started to filter in as the bright moon rose. Within an hour, the temperature dropped to the point where Joven called for the group to build a burrow. The lapines and the lone otter in the group started work on the burrow while the rest of the party started looking for suitable firewood. Of which there was none.
As the second moon rose, the group passed into unconsciousness, letting the oblivion of sleep overtake them.
Another week passed, and the majority of the party was getting disheartened. They hadn't reached the spot on the maps yet. Mostly, this was due to the landmarks being covered by the snowdrifts. Partly, Mikken thought, it was because Jovan could not read a map if his life depended on it. And with the constant threat of a lupine patrol finding them as they crossed territory lines, Mikken was surprised they had made it this far.
They had crossed thirteen territories, and lost 2 party members, but they continued on.
Then, a glimmer of hope.
A lake; one that was on the map as being close to the goal. They had maybe another day's travel and they would be there.
The group was ecstatic. Cheering as they ran down the snow-covered slope to the frozen water below.
But as they crested another rise, Vorr held up his hand, silencing the group at once. He sniffed at the air, the ermine's whiskers shivering in the wind as he turned slowly. His eyes were wide with fear.
"Oh scat..." he said softly under his breath.
On the crest of the next hill was a patrol of lupines. The colours of their garb were hard to miss: Guards for the Naarval Protectorate. Even though Naarval is one of the most desolate places on the continent, the lupines still keep a close watch over the territory.
So they ran.
The six remaining adventurers scattered, running in a pre-determined pattern to hide, quickly burrowing through the frozen crust on the snow and underneath. They were downwind of the patrol, and every single one of the group were hoping they hadn't been seen.
Seconds passed like minutes, and minutes like hours as the small group remained ensconced in their frozen holes. Mikken felt his legs starting to cramp up, and he damned himself for having gotten into this position in the first place. The dull pain made him want to stretch, if only for a second.
From two or three meters from his hole came the crunch of heavy feet on snow. He hadn't heard them approaching, and that made Mikken scared. Heart hammering in his chest he held his breath, quivering. What if they heard his heart through that ice? What if they stepped on his hiding spot, and fell through on top of him?
The steps stopped, and he could hear muttering from above. A short growl, a bark, and then the footfalls were moving off. Slowly it became silent except for the thudding of his heart against his ribcage.
Now, waiting was all he could do. Wait and hope they didn't double back.
Sleep claimed him slowly through the haze of fear. And his dreams came harshly, dark, and smothering.
I think, if my evenings are going to be this boring for the next month, I'm going to be picking it up again and try to finish it a little more. Well, not finish really, just continue.
So here, in it's raw format, is the story so far.
The Tales of LMA
-Acknoval, Lhovare Territory
-Hovac 3, 3962 RH
Muted blue light bounced of the filament-thin whiskers of the lurking lapine. The shadows of the corridor obscured the rabbit's presence well, but the ever-moving whiskers just couldn't be hidden.
The noises heard from up the stonework hallways were approaching, as well as the orange light from the torches growing brighter. Sounds of armor plating clanking against each other, and against the floor. The gruff voices of the guards, laughing as they discussed something in their native tongue.
How she ever got talked into this was beyond her. She looked to her left, to the crack behind the pillar. It was just outlined in the pale blue of the combined moonlight, but the entrance was still unnoticeable to people who weren't looking for it.
Waiting until just the right moment, the rabbit moved, pulling the small thread she had laid earlier, causing a few stones to move behind where the guards were now. The clanking of metal stopped, and a few whispers were heard. More like growls of hunger than of entertainment.
When the torchlight started to move away from her position, she pulled her deep burgundy cloak tight around her, and reached the crevice in three long, silent strides. She pressed the stonework in a combination of places the lupine paws were never meant to master, and the telltale click let her know the door had been opened. She squeezed her way clear of the corridor, and into the darkness beyond the opened stonework, closing the door ever so slowly, praying to the Goddess that the hinges would not squeak.
The door clicked shut quietly. The light was gone completely.
She closed her eyes, crouching to the ground and thanked the Goddess for her good fortune. After a minute had passed she opened her eyes, letting them adjust to the darkness. Ahead of her and parallel to the corridor ran a small tunnel.
Taking a deep breath, the rabbit started on her trek. The sack at her side caught on the rough-hewn stone a few times, but the strap held. Fifteen minutes later, she turned a sharp corner, and the blue moonlight on the ground ahead of her killed her night sight.
She emerged from the tunnel on the outside of the fortress walls, and started to run for the trees, gratefully accepting the freedom they brought to her, and soon to her fellow outlaws. She could scarcely believe she'd managed to get out with the papers.
~~~~~
-Acknoval, Naarval Protectorate
-Ciell 18, 3963 RH
The cold ripped through the coverings, stinging at the furred skin underneath. Mikken hated the winter months. He hated how the snow fell. He hated how his fur changed colour to match the white curse. He hated how the winds blew and how the food all but vanished under several meters of snow.
But most of all, Mikken hated this trip.
"We must do this for the lives of our brethren," Joven had said. "For the lives of all those in servitude to those dogs. We must find the Forbidden, and then we must do what we fear most."
Just words. But the words held some sort of meaning to Mikken. He couldn't explain why, but they looped in his brain again and again. Every time the wind broke its way under the woven cap and bit at his ears he heard the voice echoed.
"Are we there yet?" he called out over the wind, hoping to receive an answer from the leader of their group.
The stalky mouse turned to his troupe. "Not until we get to the point on the map that was provided," he said. "And if you ask one more time, I'm going to make sure you get assigned to hole duty for the next month. Now move!"
Grudgingly, Mikken pulled his hat down low and stuck his hands in his pockets.
"Yes, Sir!" he quipped at the mouse. For that he got an indignant stare, but the line started moving again.
All for the Forbidden on Irrix's maps. No one actually knew what the Forbidden was, but it was rumoured to be either a utopia, or a weapon. Either way, Joven wanted it for to liberation. Joven wanted to makes the wolves pay for what they have done to the non-predatory races.
At least, that's what he had said.
Three months they've been traversing this landscape, watching as the leaves fell, watching the green-brown land turn to white under the blanket of winter. Three months of stop and go through the flatland forests and the hills had started to take its toll on the band of rodents.
The spot on the map might be a cave, might be a door. It may not even exist at all. The maps were drawn from the folk tales and snippets of ghost stories. Most of them involved the Smooths.
Smooths were supposed to look something like the monkeys, but with no hair. No one has ever seen one of these Smooths, but stories about some of their tracks being found in remote areas come and go every few years. No one ever put much stock into these stories.
The sun started to descend past the horizon behind them, casting a bright pink across the sky. Purple started to filter in as the bright moon rose. Within an hour, the temperature dropped to the point where Joven called for the group to build a burrow. The lapines and the lone otter in the group started work on the burrow while the rest of the party started looking for suitable firewood. Of which there was none.
As the second moon rose, the group passed into unconsciousness, letting the oblivion of sleep overtake them.
Another week passed, and the majority of the party was getting disheartened. They hadn't reached the spot on the maps yet. Mostly, this was due to the landmarks being covered by the snowdrifts. Partly, Mikken thought, it was because Jovan could not read a map if his life depended on it. And with the constant threat of a lupine patrol finding them as they crossed territory lines, Mikken was surprised they had made it this far.
They had crossed thirteen territories, and lost 2 party members, but they continued on.
Then, a glimmer of hope.
A lake; one that was on the map as being close to the goal. They had maybe another day's travel and they would be there.
The group was ecstatic. Cheering as they ran down the snow-covered slope to the frozen water below.
But as they crested another rise, Vorr held up his hand, silencing the group at once. He sniffed at the air, the ermine's whiskers shivering in the wind as he turned slowly. His eyes were wide with fear.
"Oh scat..." he said softly under his breath.
On the crest of the next hill was a patrol of lupines. The colours of their garb were hard to miss: Guards for the Naarval Protectorate. Even though Naarval is one of the most desolate places on the continent, the lupines still keep a close watch over the territory.
So they ran.
The six remaining adventurers scattered, running in a pre-determined pattern to hide, quickly burrowing through the frozen crust on the snow and underneath. They were downwind of the patrol, and every single one of the group were hoping they hadn't been seen.
Seconds passed like minutes, and minutes like hours as the small group remained ensconced in their frozen holes. Mikken felt his legs starting to cramp up, and he damned himself for having gotten into this position in the first place. The dull pain made him want to stretch, if only for a second.
From two or three meters from his hole came the crunch of heavy feet on snow. He hadn't heard them approaching, and that made Mikken scared. Heart hammering in his chest he held his breath, quivering. What if they heard his heart through that ice? What if they stepped on his hiding spot, and fell through on top of him?
The steps stopped, and he could hear muttering from above. A short growl, a bark, and then the footfalls were moving off. Slowly it became silent except for the thudding of his heart against his ribcage.
Now, waiting was all he could do. Wait and hope they didn't double back.
Sleep claimed him slowly through the haze of fear. And his dreams came harshly, dark, and smothering.