FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Just an opening bit to my new story. I'm still working on the others, but I like to do multiple ideas. It's not finished and there's nothing adult about this one. But I hate going so long without uploading something. So here's an introduction to hold you over. :P

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Mercenary Shahira was a woman that valued solitude. It gave her time to think, polish and sharpen her blades, and just relax - but that was difficult to find since she'd rescued the boy.

Shahira was a dark blue pantheress. She was tall and strong, as well as proud like most of her race was. She hated her whiskers. They had grown with age. She hated being reminded of her age. So, she clipped them when possible. She was a veteran, and she had formidable skills in war. She could swing a blade, shoot an arrow, and mix poisons. These were particularly useful since Sylodin had recently fallen into dark times. There was no more king. He had died fighting in The War of Incredible Luck.

The war was waged along the country's northern most boarders. Its enemy was a legion of ogres and goblins. Alone, these creatures were often stupid and nearly impossible to control or command. They put up a difficult fight, but you could outsmart them. However, they were led by a mysterious sorcerer. Nobody in the country had known the name of the sorcerer, nor his race. Nobody, that is, except the king before his final moments.

There were rumors that his name was so powerful that it turned them both to dust. Some say the king valiantly spear-tackled the two of them both over the edge of a great chasm. Whatever the story was, the fact remained that neither corpse was recovered. With the sorcerer dead, the ogres and goblins stopped obeying any kind of command and turned on each other. After that, the king's army picked off whatever was still alive and effectively decimated the forces to the north.

But the king was dead. He had no heir, no other family member. Nobody knew how to choose a new king. Fighting between races and towns broke out. Sylodin was on the verge of a civil war. That was ten years ago, unfortunately it was still true. With no ruler, people would develop their own rules for each town, some discarding all morals together. You wanted to avoid those places. The number of thieves, bandits, and assassins had doubled, or maybe even tripled. Nobody was certain. It was a kill or be killed era. And that, the pantheress felt, was what made the boy so unique.

The boy, or Zariah as he was named, was a pacifist by nature. He was a personatarian, wanting peace for all peoples. He wasn't underage by any means. But he was a full decade younger than Shahira. To her, he was a boy. He talked too much; he had no skills with a weapon. He couldn't start a fire or successfully kill a critter to roast for dinner. But he had hope. He had faith in people, you could see it in his eyes. It was something the pantheress had lost a long time ago. Maybe that's why she saved him. You could see it in his eyes. It seemed to flow from him.

Protecting him could be challenging for her. And sometimes it was downright aggravating. He was wanted, he was cargo. He was also an endangered species - human. Humans were rare in numbers, perhaps less than 1,000 left in all of Sylodin. They were rarer than albino fursons. Shahira had first found him captured and tortured by a group of traveling bandits; it was composed of different species. Humans sold well to the right buyer. They had a number of uses. Slaves, sexual or not, some were put on display as a symbol of power and wealth. Some were kept as pets. Some were made to force breed. They way that humans were treated had always disgusted the pantheress.

However, that's not why she recused him. It was mere coincidence. She was resting in the woods one evening, preparing to move to the next town where she would look for more work. She was off the path, but had a clear view to it. She noticed the group passing by. That is, they were being so loud that they woke her -that pissed her off. She put on her leather cuirass and grabbed a blade, sneaking to the bushes and watching.

The bandits were setting up for the night. They had a wagon. She figured it was full of looted goods. That could be very useful, she mused. I think I'll take it for myself. Grinning, she scanned the makeshift camp site. There were about five or six men in arms, and one clear leader. She could take him out easily. Chop off the head and they rest run around easy to pick off. I won't even need to dirty my blade. Good, I just cleaned it. Shahira went back to her designated sleeping spot, and picked up a bow and precisely seven arrows. This could be fun.

She climbed a tree near the path, placing the arrow into a ready position and pulling the string back until it was taught. She located the leader. He was standing up, telling them all some fabricated story of how he impressed someone or killed something, no doubt. The others lounged around the fire, picking at half burnt pieces of meat. Good, they brought me supper. I'll make it quick then. She let the arrow go and watched it soar through the air, piercing the back of the leader's head. A quick scream and then sudden chaos broke out. The pantheress managed to kill off two before they even had a chance to stand up. Four more, she thought.

Two had picked up their weapons and were squinting into the trees. It was just close enough to sundown that her dark color had given her a perfect, natural camouflage. She hit one between the eyes. She loved the rush that she got when she killed something, especially something that deserved killing. The feeling of the bow bending and snapping back into place was exhilarating. There were only three less. They had huddled back to back and were holding shields. Poor bastards think they know what they're doing. She took a few seconds to calculate trajectory and lobbed a shot into the air, coming down with perfect accuracy into the chest of the largest one - a tiger. The only two left were a rabbit and squirrel. Shahira put her bow away and jumped out of the tree. A good hand to hand fight is never boring. She smiled to herself, and then whistled to get their attention.

"Let's have at it, then!" She roared. The two bands looked at one another and then nodded, rushing her. They swung their swords without any kind of expertise. She avoided the blades without a slight shuffle of her feet. The rabbit lost balance and received a quick elbow to the back of the head. The squirrel stumbled past the pantheress. She chuckled at his lack of skill.

"You bitch," he snarled. Catching himself, he took another wild swing. This time Shahira moved to avoid the blow, flowing like water, and caught the squirrel by the wrist. Twisting it, she forced him to drop his weapon and put him into an arm lock. She turned until he fell to his knees, gasping in pain. One last twist and his wrist made a satisfying popping noise. She released him and delivered a fatal boot to the head.

The rabbit simply sat there watching in horror. When she turned her bright, yellow eyes on him he clumsily struggled to get to his feet and run away. She sighed. And here I thought I wouldn't have to use a blade, she pouted. She picked up a knife from one of the fallen bandits, throwing it with deadly accuracy. The rabbit fell flat on his face, knife sticking from his back.

"Well," she said aloud, "that was fun. Now then, what did I win?" She picked a few of the pockets, finding a couple coins. It wasn't much but she could afford to sleep indoors for a night. She picked at the meat that lay around the campfire. It wasn't entirely unappetizing. She had her fill and then moved on to the wagon. There was a single door, but it was locked shut. She picked up one of the few swords lying around and bashed on the lock once. Then she heard movement. She listened closer and heard more scuttling. Great, it's just a stupid animal. At least I'll eat well, I guess. She continued bashing at the lock, slowly working it open. Finally it fell to the ground in pieces. Swinging the door open, she found something she didn't expect.

"Please don't hurt me." The voice was from a human captive. He was a young man, maybe twenty three years of age, maybe less. He was bruised. His clothes were torn and had dried blood on it. One of his eyes was blackened. The pale blue iris seemed somewhat poetic as it glowed from the dark bruise. He cowered in the corner. There wasn't anything in the wagon except from some straw and a pot. It was disgraceful and punishing. He looked at her from behind his blonde bangs in fear. But somehow they were proud, too.

"I'm not going to hurt you." She realized that she was brandishing a sword. She threw it to the ground. "See? I thought maybe there was some money in here. Perhaps a bit of food, even. Clearly there isn't." She gave him another look over. "Come on, get out of this thing." When they stepped back into the light, she felt guilty for eating all the meat that she'd found. The boy's nearly a walking skeleton.

"You, killed them all? You did this?" He asked, seemingly amazed. She straightened her back a bit, admiring her work.

"Yep, killed them all. You're welcome." But the boy didn't look happy. He glared at her.

"You didn't have to do that. They didn't need to die. They did awful things to me... But, I'm sure there was a reason." Shahira looked at the human male in disbelief.

"A reason? You think they needed a reason? You were an item to them, boy. They're scum. They have no morals. They have no souls. They aren't even people." He wasn't listening. He was kneeling next to each corpse, whispering something inaudible. "What ARE you doing?" She questioned.

"I'm forgiving them for what they did to me. I'm sure that if times weren't so hard then they wouldn't have done it." The pantheress was starting to get irritated. She walked up over to the boy, lifting by the shirt -his feet dangling.

"Are you stupid, kid? These men were evil. Pure evil. I stopped them before they could do anymore harm." She peered down at him, his ice blue eyes returning her look.

"I'm not stupid. And I'm not a child. Everybody is good, everybody can do good things. People aren't bad they just make bad decisions. Out of fear and anger or need. Everybody has good in them. We're all equal. Some of us just need help, need direction. Now, could you please put me down? You're hurting me." The pantheress slowly dropped him to the ground, but he fell down, his legs too weak to carry himself. He was weak from being dehydrated and starved.

"Kid, I shouldn't do this." His eyes were slowing closing as he passed out. "I shouldn't take you in. You're going to be a hassle, another mouth to feed." His body lay there unmoving. "I should just leave you here in the road." The wind blew, rustling his hair. "I should move on and forget about you. Pretend I never met you. You're dangerous, you know that? Hope is dangerous." She sighed, brushing his face with the back of her paw. "Well. Alright, since you talked me into it." She leaned over and picked him up, carrying him back to her safe spot. Carrying her new hope in her arms.