FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Hammers fell upon steel as fires roared in the forges of the village. The smith, having not slept in two days or nights, toiled away at his task as he did what he could to prepare his people, his assistants and apprentices all lending what aid they could. None spoke within those gates, even as the grass was worn thin from the rapid movement of padded feet across the land. Archers honed their aim as swordsmen sparred and practiced with spear and javelin. "This is our home", they all thought as they strove forward. "This is our home, and we shall NOT let it fall to these invaders without a fight worthy of reverence. Occasionally, the men and women would glance over the palisades towards the mountain, seeing the towers of the keep standing firm, a symbol of hope and strength for all present. Within the stone walls and hallways of the mountain fortress, Larkiin made sure to make his presence known to his brothers and sisters in arms. Every guard he passed as he coordinated with his Captain, he would stop and drill on their duties.

Every defensive position he toured, he ordered the men to be stationed there to double check everything and offered an extra ration of the best spirits in the country for every enemy felled. Attendants and guards alike prayed together, many writing letters to their clan and kin and hiding them away so someone worthy may find them and tell their families how they died. Larkiin's heart was torn asunder by what he saw, feeling both immeasurable pride and sorrow as he kept his mind in the reality of the moment. His courier had said Turin was merely days away, and that was more than a day ago. There was little time left, and his people must be prepared for whatever may come. He ordered as much food and water as could be gathered to be stored within the Keep, knowing that if the village fell, the source of supplies would be cut off. The Keep itself would be the site of the last stand, its narrow corridors and strong defensive position would see as many of his foes as possible sent to the Hollows before he died. Soon, the battle for Kolyat's Stand would begin, and by extension, the Clan Skirmishes.At the same time, Turin was not standing idle himself. Astride his tsovik, a powerful mount scarred from battle against powerful rivals, Pavok watched as his army closed in on the village from atop an overlooking cliff.

"Tell me, Sahrnen, are your men ready for the coming battle?" He turned his gaze to the Qes behind him, a fit and toned man of scarlet-tan fur with a wooden mask covering half of his face.

"Aye, the men are prepared. Despite the rain, we're prepared to rid ourselves of any barricade those poor fools have deluded themselves into thinking will hold us off. This had better be worth it, though, Pavok. You know finding men isn't cheap or easy, and we were promised generous compensation for aiding you."

"You shall have your reward, Lunnite, of that have no doubt. Though I am disappointed your Captain could not be persuaded to join us."

"Ha! Shows what you know, Retsiik! The captain has no taste for getting their hands dirty like I do. Prefers to do things with flare and drama, any pup who's heard the stories knows that."

"I suppose that is true. I must say, I'm impressed your men were able to capture so many prisoners."

"The cap'n knows how to get the job done, better than anyone I've ever seen. Those soft marshals up north were easy to fool into killing each other. So much for patriotism, eh? A few well placed rumors here, an assassinated daughter there, add a few well placed bodies, and before you know it, you've got a power vacuum. Still not sure why we were told to keep these miserable wastes of air alive, but I guess your men out in the woods will keep them from running off."

"Indeed. Should they think to get cocky and make a break for it, they'll be killed within twenty yards by my archers. I almost hope that they try something. That one up front you brought in recently keeps giving me this look I don't like..."

"Don't worry your soft little head, Pavok, we're keeping the whole lot in the back ranks so they can't cause no trouble. Let 'em try to run, they won't get far."

As the two talked above, one of the prisoners in question remained especially silent. While others murmered and whispered among themselves, he alone had his mind focused on his task; loosening his bonds. His fellow captives all thought of the same, but only a few could actually manage the deed, though they kept their attempts subtle and left their rope ties just tight enough to fool the guards that came by every so often to make sure they didn't get any ideas. Behind the silvery gold eyes of the lead prisoner, a fire burned with a deep rooted passion as he would cast a glare up to Pavok and his mercenary partner. Though he was out of range to hear them, he didn't much care for what they had to say. For once the battle started, Kaille would make his move...