FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Remnant mud from the storms several nights ago still plagued many of the forest roads, the high canopies of the trees shading much of the paths from direct sunlight, slowing the progress of any who wandered them. This was the case when a young Sen courier was dispatched to the manor of the Overseer, with no knowledge of the events that had transpired there. Her fur was a sunset red, paws an ash black with a patch the same color under new chin and down her neck. Her paws trudged slowly through the thick mud, sinking into it and having to be pulled out with added force as the damp earth sucked them down. With as much speed as she could manage, the courier progressed, her lower robes sullied by earthen colors and sweat. Her hood was up to provide some sense of mystique, as the roads were often plagued by highwaymen and thieves, the shade of it obscuring much of her face from view. Her paws were clamped tightly around her bag, the shoulder strap pushing down into her fur as she kept a constant vigil for those who might steal it. The young woman looked up and paused for a moment, sweat beading down through her fur and between her plates from the combined humidity and effort she put forth, thinking of how her task could not get much worse. This thought was soon made out as a jynx to her fortune, as rain started to pour down in rapid sheets, partially flooding the already damp and muddied road. She let out a cry of lament as she pressed on, cursing Larkiin for sending her on this mission.

"Curse that Larkiin and all of his intentions! First sends my friends and family away with most of our people, then tells the others they need to ready to stave off an approaching enemy that likely was going to just roll over us and wipe us off the map. Then his Hollow's forsaken steward calls for me, has me run all the way up to the war room, practically throws this message at me and then sends me off just in time to get caught in this freezing rain! I swear, if I come down with icemarrow, I'm just going to-"

She stormed off through the rain and mud, her temper being the only thing keeping her from noticing how thoroughly soaked her robes had become, her tail twitching and swaying furiously as it responded to her depression. As she blustered and pouted, she couldn't help but think of how good Larkiin had actually been to her clan. While not prestigious or the most well known, Larkiin went out of his way and looked after her when she was ill while her parents had left to find a healer. Then the Marshal had gone and made her one of his couriers! An honor for anyone, even if the job was occassionally hazardous and unpleasant. The fact that she respected the man clashed with her temper, calming her somewhat. As she sighed and shook her head, ears drooping somewhat in dismay, she noticed what looked like remnant imprints of heavy traffic. Heavy wheel indentations, the clear markings of many people moving and trampling across the same stretch of earth, wearing and packing it down. Perhaps a merchant caravan, or a group of refugees? The thought that it may have been soldiers sent a cold shiver down her already chilled spine, causing her to ponder if she was actually safe. The rain had swollen the roads, and there was little evidence of such traffic left as she inspected the path, so there was no way of knowing how fresh or old the tracks were. She rose, trying to use the focus on her task as a way to block out such thoughts, and pushed ahead. It wasn't long before the cold had started to affect her, as she found herself coughing more and more frequently. Already she'd been on the road for more than a day, and she still had a ways to go; She needed a rest. taking refuge under a lesser tree that sat atop a small hill, providing some measure of protection from the still pouring rain, the courier sat and leaned back against its trunk, catching her breath and letting her now dark brown paws rest. It was there that she drifted into an exhausted rest, the gray midday turning into a bitter evening. When she finally stirred, the rain had stopped finally. A soft smile graced her lips as she attempted to rise. She didn't get very far.

The next thing she knew, a sack was forced over her head and she felt a sharp crack on the back of her skull, darkness clouding her vision as she passed out. When she awoke, the gound was cold and hard, not made of stone or dirt, but of steel. She shot up and scrabbled forward, still disoriented and running her head straight into the bars of her cage, making her fall back and yelp in pain as she rubbed the space between her plates. As she poked one eye open, she could see she was in a camp of sorts. Tents and firepits visible all over, numerous armored strangers moving about, drinking, cursing, or just sitting by the fire. It was too dark to see make out many details, even with the lights of the fires illuminating much of the area, but she could tell that the accents of those who spoke were not Retkiin. Foreigners, outsiders, mercenaries. That's all that she could discern before two strangers approached her, one holding a bowl of food and setting it down just outside of her reach from the cage. The one nearest her was shorter, his face shadowed by the absense of light, his companion that stood behind and glowered at her standing taller and wider in shoulder than the other.

"Looks like you got caught too close to our camp, Ahsa. Why would a lone Sen be way out here in the rain? Don't you know how dangerous that can be?" The near stranger's voice was male and obviously native, his tone as much sarcastic as inquisitive.

"Who are you?! Why have you taken me captive?! I am a courier of New Kolyat's Stand, under direct orders from the Marshal Larkiin! I demand you explain yourself!" The captive woman's eyes caught the light of the fires, giving an appropriately red glow to her already spiteful eyes, her voice condemning and showing only the slightest impression of fear.

"You hide your fear well, messenger. You impress me. As for your questions, the answer is simple. We caught you and I need you to do me a kindness."

"Why would I do anything for the one who has kidnapped and imprisoned me?!" Her answer was a swift hit to the forehead from the larger stranger, who wielded a spear in hand and used the blunt end as a way of telling the young woman to silence herself. A small trail of tears began to fall down her cheek, she removing her hood and revealing her face to wipe them away.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk... such a lovely young woman," the nearer captor began. "A pity you've chosen to serve the wrong man."

"I serve Larkiin happily you coward! He has been good to me and I owe him my service!"

"Oh, is that so? Well then, tell me what it is that you are doing so far from his Keep. I swear no harm will come to you if you answer me." Having no real choice, the Sen nodded and complied.

"My name is Kara of the Veoss Clan. I was dispatched to the Overseer on behest of my Marshal in response to a message he'd received. That's all."

"...I see. Then, I have a new task for you. Kara of Veoss..." Standing, he opened the cage door and motioned her out, she taking a cautious step back as he neared her.

"Run back to Larkiin and tell him this. Trovis is no longer. Turin of Pavok has claimed the right to lead these lands. Any who oppose me will be met with swift and harsh reaction at their own expense. Larkiin has one week to either open the gates to his village, or leave them shut and seal his fate." Looking at Turin in equal parts fear and indignation, Kara picked the bowl of food up and tossed it into his face, spitting on him as she clenched her fist. She wanted more than anything to wring his neck, to throw him into that cage and watch him wither away into nothing but bone. But surrounded by Ancestors knew how many men, all armed and she alone, it would've done no good to attempt anything so reckless. She stepped back slowly, turning as she neared the treeline and darting off into the darkness, her bag still intact and the message sealed. As she ran through shadow and darkness, desperation took a firm grip at her heart. She was duty bound to deliver her message, that was the sworn task of all couriers. But now... none of that mattered. Even if she still could deliver the letter, she had to warn her Marshal first. That took priority above all else to her, it was the least she owed Larkiin for all he'd done for her.

Back at the camp, Turin grinned in a devilish way, turning to face his companion. As he walked past towards his tent, he paused and spoke with precision and purpose to his darkened follower.

"Larkiin will not submit. No doubt he's sent his people to the coast for safety. Have our... "friends" seek out and give those poor refugees a hand in finding the peace they seek." The mercenary nodded and moved off towards a smaller campfire in the distance, standing in the light of it as he repeated what Turin had told him, then left without another word. From the shadows of the forest, several masked faces nodded and disappeared, a cold silence following them as they left to do their employer's bidding. Clouds concealed the moons above as Turin leaned over his table, scanning the provincial map nailed to it, his eyes locking on New Kolyat's Stand.

"Larkiin," he spoke. "I should've known you'd oppose me. Ready yourself... have your hunters stand watch for my arrows. Stand with your men as they look over the battlements of your precious keep and witness the fate that comes for all my enemies. Make peace, Marshal... You will not last the week."