FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

When the stars began to march, there was no explanation to be found. Neither the natural sciences nor the word of prophets could account for those gleaming points as they drew closer, but it was evident that an answer would arrive shortly.

A great tree sprouted up in the outer wilds, visible as a hollow ghost against the nebulae and cosmic dust swirling around it. Soon after, the northern skies rolled out a carpet of shifting colors as space swirled in on itself. From the chaos came giant, steaming juggernauts with snarling metal faces and spears crackling with thunder. Those whose boots had marched over the blazing universe and away from the fires of Ragnarok. Their king shattered the rainbow bridge and split the lights into blazing fragments scattering across the sky. At this, their brutality erupted from their plated chests as they set upon the natives.

Early in the war it became clear as to why the universe extinguished a star for each of the Jotun crossing over. The invaders lumbered steadily across the idyllic snowy forests toward the very top of the world where the Nephilhind dwelled, the greatest of the polar druids.

In the face of the looming siege, the druids were joined by an unusual ally. He was a being that claimed to have slipped over in disguise among the Jotun and came to know the native nature goddess who slept cozily under the blankets of ice and snow here. Having been punished in their world, the being was forced to carry its severed, hollow-eyed lupine head in the mouth of a monstrous serpent. Few would trust the whispers from such a grisly face, but in light of the circumstances he was the last hope to be had.

As the Jotun drew near to the city, a serpentine shape rose from beneath it. In mere minutes the city was heaved up and disintegrated, collapsing into the massive bore hole yawning wide. There, a titanic sea serpent coiled up out of the black ocean at the core of the world and causing the calamity with its mere movement. What followed the appearance of the Jorgumand was more akin to an apocalypse rather than any sort of battle. The sky blackened and the ground quaked as the beast lashed out to scour the land and sweep low the mountains, all while lightning fell in the volume of raindrops in a storm.

There was recognition in the eyes of the Jotun's king. It was a prophecy that had followed him all the way across the universe and dimensions. A nightmare could never be outrun, no matter how far and fast one traveled. As the upper half of the king's body arced through the air, he raised his hammer to call up a spike of earth to impale the beast through its neck. As it lay bleeding, its blood hissed and boiled. A poisonous vapor arose, until it cloaked the disaster and still crept onward. Not content to merely kill off the living, the rime frost sapped the very warmth from the air. The dying breath of the Jorgumand twisted the northern pole into stark, jagged and lethally cold wastes.

There were few left to flee southward away from the destruction. Those left behind were the native survivors and the women of the Jotun, not usually called to battle but every bit as powerful compared to the natives. They would find a continent they named Fvara, the green lands or the "land of springtime". Here, the remaining Jotun would bring the other species in from the cold of the ice age following on their heels. Things would be quite a bit different once the world finally thawed out from this frosty cataclysm.

It wasn't the sort of place he enjoyed walking into, but there were few options out here in this strange maze of sandy streets and noisy markets. The adobe metropolis was the last bastion of civilization heading south into the continent's dry southern depths. Out there in the dunes were plenty of rare and valuable treasures just out of reach for those who preferred safety over piles of coin. With a deep breath, Tarn pushed past the swinging doors and into the smoky, boisterous tavern.

The Stag had as much sand in his fur as any other adventurer, but the antlers would give him away at a glance. The ivory freckles dotting his cheeks and the big amber eyes would sabotage any ferocity he might try to project. A closer look would reveal a silky coat of chestnut fur over a lean body. His gear had been charged with the desert sun, leather armor and pants clinging closely and seeping heat into the muscles of toned runner's legs. The eye was taken on a scenic route up to the bubble butt under his perky tail.

Just as he was thinking he had slipped in unnoticed, a whistle lashed out from the crowd.

"'Bout time this old watering hole hired a bar buck!" And then a few murmurs of agreement with a chuckle or two.

Tarn only rolled his eyes as he stepped toward the board at the center of the floor where various jobs, quests and other useful information was posted. This one was flanked by a couple barrel cacti potted in big brick planters. But it was the shady figure perched on one of them that looked more unsavory than the spiky plants. She was a burly Puma with dark gray fur, looking to be a mercenary of some kind puffing on a cigar.

She took notice and stood to block his view of the board immediately.

"And what's your name, cutie?"

She puffed her chest up making it look like two cannonballs clad in chainmail. He kept his eyes locked on hers rather than what she wanted him to notice.

"I'm not really here to chat," He said, as if the bow and quiver on his back were not enough of a hint.

"Eh? Surely you're not out here dungeon diving all by yourself? That's not a good idea, little laddie. Males aren't cut out for that sort of work,"

Tarn already felt the anger joining into a red crossroads over the side of his head, "And why would that be?"

"You boys get too angry to think straight in battle- everybody knows that,"

She then cupped her hands in the air, "And let's not forget you've got a major weak spot between those legs,"

As the laughter from the surrounding crowd died down, another voice cut in.

"It isn't proper to make such vulgar remarks to males, you know,"

The interruption came from a silhouette in the doorway and when they swung shut it brought a mouse into view. She was stacked short, covered in ochre fur. Most of her clothing was concealed under a light cloth cloak to keep the sun off her without overheating. She casually flipped a dagger in hand as she stepped closer. For a moment the Puma looked shocked and then shouted with laughter.

"Somebody should have told me the circus was in town today!"

The Mouse fiercly waited in her shadow until the Puma's laughter subsided. The big feline's challenger might have cleared her knees if she stood on tiptoes.

"So?" The Puma said, "What? Are ya gonna beat me with the power of friendship? You'd need to have friends for that!"

The Mouse's ears drooped a bit but she kept her determined expression. At a whistle from the Puma, there emerged an assortment of glowering hunch backed canines and scruffy large cats all clad in various weathered armor. They fit the very definition of the word 'goon'.

"Alright, gals. Hold her for me. I want to see how far I can punt this 'un!"

Tarn huffed, turning away from the spectacle. He snatched a paper off the quest board and slipped back outside deciding it wasn't worth the time or effort. The sound of splintering wood, breaking glass and a hefty pummeling followed.

Down in the basement of the tavern, an overstuffed bucket was overturned and shaken until the mouse crammed inside came tumbling out. Lyra uncrumpled her battered self with a groan. Only a single lantern burned, casting a gloomy light over the last face she wanted to see at the moment.

"Hm. On the small side, but a nice little morsel all the same,"

"Hu..wha?"

Lyra was siezed by the collar and hauled up off her feet to face the Puma once more.

"A poor choice of words perhaps. We aren't cannibals- you'd have to go a bit further south before you run into that,"

Lyra felt her feet touch the floor and stood wobbling for a moment.

"I like your style kid," The Puma said, "You've got some fight in you. Young, more guts than brains. Exactly the type we look out for,"

"Wh-who exactly are you?" The mouse asked.

The Puma gave a snarl of a smile and gestured to her henchwomen surrounding them, the looks on their faces making Lyra think that morsel comment their boss had made wasn't entirely coincidental.

"I am Ultha Doom and this is my band of gleeful gals. We steal from the rich and give to the bartenders and hookers around these parts. And we're always looking for idi- er, poor souls in need of steady work,"

Ultha leaned down a bit as if sharing a secret, "You still want some of that whitetail? That buck you rushed in to rescue earlier? We got some friends down south who pay nicely for exotic pets, but nothing says we can't break 'em in a little bit first. What do you say?"

Lyra timidly took the outstretched hand and was shaken about for a moment, followed by a slap on the back that nearly put her on her face.

"Welcome aboard," Ultha said, "All you got to do is watch and learn,"