Post by Bloodmoon on Jul 2, 2007 19:46:02 GMT -5
Title: Slave to the Grave
Chapters: Many, suffice to say.
Author: Bloodmoon (Me)
Pairing: None.
Rating: PG-13 (I'll put the, erm, "unrated" version up somewhere else if anyone wants.
Summary: Four more Clans - MountainClan, LakeClan, ValleyClan, and GraveClan - rest on the other side of the twolegplace. And internal dissension, strange prophecies, and ancient reincarnations are threatening to destroy some of them forever.
Warning: Very graphic. It'll only get worse, so if the violence in the prologue bugs you, just stop reading now.
Disclaimer: I don't own Warriors. However, I created MountainClan, LakeClan, ValleyClan, and GraveClan, as well as all the characters in them, so if you wanna use them in your own fan-fiction, ask me first and I'll give you a thumbs up (probably).
Beta: Huh?
Cover: None yet, maybe later.
A dirty, battled-scarred she-cat padded roughly down the paved footpath of a twoleg park, eyes narrowed to imposingly dark slits. Her wiry dark-brown fur glistened with midnight dew in the glow cast by the towering twoleg light-makers that dotted the path. Before her rested the twolegplace, a massive network of crisscrossing streets built around hundreds of twoleg nests, and behind her lay a trail of slain rogues who had tried to stop her from proceeding.
She reached the end of the park and quickly crossed the thunderpath that lay ahead. Upon reaching the other side, she turned sharply, walked a few tail-lengths, and veered off into an alley. Waiting for her near the front was a large, tabby tom-cat with a fiber-like collar studded with cats' teeth. He eyed the she-cat dangerously as she stepped toward him. "Ah, there you are at last," he growled. "Scourge has been so anxious to see you again. He told me to wait here for your arrival."
The she-cat sat down in front of him. "The sooner I speak to that worthless brother of mine, the better," she meowed back with vehemence. "Ever since he formed his Clan, he's been nothing but trouble for mine."
The tabby tom grunted, perhaps trying to seem threatening. Then he said, "Right this way, I think you'll... hold on, you aren't alone!" His eyes flashed back to the entrance of the alley, where another cat was sitting barely visible in the shadows.
"My deputy, Skullstorm, is with me, yes," admitted the she-cat. "I know, Scourge wanted me to come alone, but if he thinks I'm that stupid, then he might as well forget everything else that happened before he left us as well."
"I'm sorry," said the tom, sounding remarkably unsorry, "but we're going to have to keep him here."
The she-cat snorted. "I'd like to see you try. Come, Skullstorm..." She pushed past the tom without another word, followed by the heavy pawsteps of her deputy. As she moved deeper into the alley, the found that several other cats had apparently been expecting her. They all peered at her fiendishly from their dark nooks and crannies, narrowed eyes burning with suspicion and unease. Even the kits, plastered with grime, seemed wary of her presence. She ignored them, she didn't fear any of these foolish whelp. Their pathetic trophy-collars were their most laughable features, especially since she knew for a fact that her brother collected most of the teeth from cats and dogs he found already dead.
And then, Scourge appeared. At the end of the alley was a massive stack of filthy wooden crates, long fallen into disuse for the twolegs. The BloodClan leader slithered lethally out of the very highest one and leaped to the ground, landing with almost pathetic grace. He was small, but undeniably dangerous. Although there was something - perhaps their family ties - that made him quite unintimidating to the she-cat.
"So you've arrived at last," said Scourge. "Not alone, it smells like. Hm, that's just like you, still incapable of following simple direct-"
"You requested an audience with me, little brother?" interrupted the dirty she-cat, sitting in front of Scourge.
"Er - I, I did," said Scourge. He too sat, childishly hating his sister inside for mentioning that she was born first. He cleared his throat before continuing. "As you should know from your previous attempts to raid the twoleg rubbish place, my Clan is thriving... much unlike you expected, no doubt."
The she-cat snorted, unimpressed. "Judging by what I can see, you and I have two very different definitions for the word 'thriving'..." she taunted. "Oh, why ever did you leave our family? I joined GraveClan and now we're unstoppable!"
"I left because of all of that StarClan foxdung you so misguidedly clung to!" growled Scourge violently, his fur rising. "All the false prophetic apparitions you tried to force on me! I wanted to show you all - especially you, Wormstar - that I could be a great leader without the aid of imaginary ghosts!" He paused, then seemed to settle down, the fur on his neck flattening a bit. "But, that's... that's not even the point..."
"Then what is the point, Scourge?" asked Wormstar, impatiently waving her tail. "Have you called me here simply to brag about this brainless gaggle of rogues you miscall a Clan? Or complain about my religion? Or is there something worth listening to that you want to say? Because if not, I have my deputy with me, and he would be most displeased if you forced me to interrupt him and his mate for nothing..."
"It just so happens, I do have an important proposition for you," said Scourge, struggling to control his temper. "As I said, my Clan is thriving. We have more queens and kits now than ever before. And we're beginning to feel a bit... boxed in. Bone, perhaps you'd like to take it from here?"
He gestured for the massive black-and-white tom behind him to step forward. Bone walked up beside his leader, sat, and spoke in a loud, clear growl. "Our alley is overpopulated - BloodClan cannot provide for it's less capable members with the sudden scarcity of prey. We've called you here to negotiate for a portion of GraveClan hunting territory..."
Wormstar snorted again, but this time, in amusement. "Did you hear that, Skullstorm?" she meowed. "They want a bit of our land for hunting!"
Skullstorm lumbered out of the shadows for the first time that night. Bone might have been huge, but Skullstorm was monstrous - the brown-and-black GraveClan deputy towered over every cat in the alley, and made them all (except for Wormstar) look like terrified little kits. He looked at his leader, then back and forth between Scourge and Bone. Bone looked a little nervous, but Scourge didn't even seem phased.
"So this is your deputy..." said the BloodClan leader boredly. "Well, as Bone said, we're prepared to negotiate, and I think you'll find the circumstances quite... oh, shall we say, influential..."
"You may be wondering what we could possibly have that you would want bad enough to exchange for territory..." said Bone. "Well, the answer is - lives."
Wormstar waited as her brother and and his deputy chuckled at something. Then Scourge straightened up and, in a much louder voice than before, meowed, "Now listen up! You will relinquish a portion of territory to us! If you do not, we will come in and take it ourselves, by force! And I warn you, no one has ever defeated BloodClan! Those who oppose die by our claws!"
Wormstar burst out laughing. Even Skullstorm let out a few devilish chuckles. "Oh, some negotiations! Take it by force, will you?" meowed Wormstar. "You and what army?"
Scourge growled. "Well, I was thinking... this army." He motioned with his tail. And then, from seemingly everywhere, cats began to pour into the alley, emerging from the shadows - out of grates, out from under dumpsters, out of garbage cans... all over. By the time it was done, Scourge was surrounded by fifty or more allies - all of them looked dirty and mean, ready to kill at his command.
For the first time in the alley, something that could have been worry flickered on Wormstar's face, but just as quickly as it came, it was gone. "Ah, this army..." she said. "Well, what is this filthy symphony of mews composed of?" Her eyes narrowed. "You there! Where do you come from?"
She was pointing with her nose to a fat, powerful, scarred gray tom near the front. He didn't answer, so Skullstorm took a threatening step toward him - that got him talking. "M-my name is... well, my new name is Split..." he began, nervously eying Wormstar's deputy. "I am from twolegplace... I belonged to the twolegs, long ago."
"I see," said Wormstar. "And how did you come upon my brother's Clan?"
"I was... bullied..." admitted Split. "By the other kittypets. Scourge offered me a chance to get revenge."
Wormstar nodded, noting with satisfaction the embarrassed look on Scourge's face. Then she turned to another cat, an old female near one of the alley walls. "And you... what sad tale have you to tell? What's your name, what's your story?"
The she-cat glanced at Skullstorm, then began. "My n-n-name is Root," she stuttered. "I was a l-loner, barely living, before Scourge found me and mercifully offered m-me food and shelter in return for my loyalty."
"Humph," said Wormstar. She shook her head with a grin and turned to a muscular tom that sat upon an overturned trash can. She called, "You look strong, what have you got to say?"
"I am Moss..." said the cat. "I was a rogue mercenary, killing in exchange for meals, for I was no hunter. Finally, I settled down in -"
But Wormstar didn't even wait for him to finish. She chose another cat, a very small, very young she-cat that appeared to be hiding behind the others. "Come out, young one! Who are you?"
"I... I am one of Scourge's many daughters..." squeaked the little cat nervously. "I've always been here, please..."
Wormstar faced Scourge again. He looked absolutely mortified. "Well, little brother," said the GraveClan leader, "you certainly have a sizable fighting force... one that may seem dangerous... at first. You have many allies, Scourge, but how many warriors? Can you tell me that? Very few, I'd wager..."
"SILENCE!" roared Scourge, his fur standing on end. If there was one person who could make him lose his temper, it was his sister. "Enough of your foolishness! I've had enough! Moss, destroy her!" The big mercenary called Moss leaped off of his trash can and lunged at Wormstar.
Wormstar's claws flashed - bizarre claws, they were, unnaturally long and strong and sharp - they soared through the air just as Moss reached her. Every cat in the alley watched in silence as Wormstar's claws tore a sizable chunk of Moss' face from his skull and sent it soaring - one of his eyes, an ear, a lumpy mound of meat, and a long, trailing stream of nervous tissue. The attack had actually pierced Moss' brain. The mercenary went down, blood spurting from the wound like water over a fall.
Wormstar licked the blood off of her claws before speaking. "If you and your silly gang of idiots want our land - you'll have to come and get it!" She and Skullstorm turned and departed the alley. Not a single cat followed them. They didn't dare.
When they had disappeared into the shroud of night, Scourge looked at the body of Moss, his former ally.
"Oh, Wormstar, you will pay for this insolence..."
Chapters: Many, suffice to say.
Author: Bloodmoon (Me)
Pairing: None.
Rating: PG-13 (I'll put the, erm, "unrated" version up somewhere else if anyone wants.
Summary: Four more Clans - MountainClan, LakeClan, ValleyClan, and GraveClan - rest on the other side of the twolegplace. And internal dissension, strange prophecies, and ancient reincarnations are threatening to destroy some of them forever.
Warning: Very graphic. It'll only get worse, so if the violence in the prologue bugs you, just stop reading now.
Disclaimer: I don't own Warriors. However, I created MountainClan, LakeClan, ValleyClan, and GraveClan, as well as all the characters in them, so if you wanna use them in your own fan-fiction, ask me first and I'll give you a thumbs up (probably).
Beta: Huh?
Cover: None yet, maybe later.
~ Prologue ~
[/b]A dirty, battled-scarred she-cat padded roughly down the paved footpath of a twoleg park, eyes narrowed to imposingly dark slits. Her wiry dark-brown fur glistened with midnight dew in the glow cast by the towering twoleg light-makers that dotted the path. Before her rested the twolegplace, a massive network of crisscrossing streets built around hundreds of twoleg nests, and behind her lay a trail of slain rogues who had tried to stop her from proceeding.
She reached the end of the park and quickly crossed the thunderpath that lay ahead. Upon reaching the other side, she turned sharply, walked a few tail-lengths, and veered off into an alley. Waiting for her near the front was a large, tabby tom-cat with a fiber-like collar studded with cats' teeth. He eyed the she-cat dangerously as she stepped toward him. "Ah, there you are at last," he growled. "Scourge has been so anxious to see you again. He told me to wait here for your arrival."
The she-cat sat down in front of him. "The sooner I speak to that worthless brother of mine, the better," she meowed back with vehemence. "Ever since he formed his Clan, he's been nothing but trouble for mine."
The tabby tom grunted, perhaps trying to seem threatening. Then he said, "Right this way, I think you'll... hold on, you aren't alone!" His eyes flashed back to the entrance of the alley, where another cat was sitting barely visible in the shadows.
"My deputy, Skullstorm, is with me, yes," admitted the she-cat. "I know, Scourge wanted me to come alone, but if he thinks I'm that stupid, then he might as well forget everything else that happened before he left us as well."
"I'm sorry," said the tom, sounding remarkably unsorry, "but we're going to have to keep him here."
The she-cat snorted. "I'd like to see you try. Come, Skullstorm..." She pushed past the tom without another word, followed by the heavy pawsteps of her deputy. As she moved deeper into the alley, the found that several other cats had apparently been expecting her. They all peered at her fiendishly from their dark nooks and crannies, narrowed eyes burning with suspicion and unease. Even the kits, plastered with grime, seemed wary of her presence. She ignored them, she didn't fear any of these foolish whelp. Their pathetic trophy-collars were their most laughable features, especially since she knew for a fact that her brother collected most of the teeth from cats and dogs he found already dead.
And then, Scourge appeared. At the end of the alley was a massive stack of filthy wooden crates, long fallen into disuse for the twolegs. The BloodClan leader slithered lethally out of the very highest one and leaped to the ground, landing with almost pathetic grace. He was small, but undeniably dangerous. Although there was something - perhaps their family ties - that made him quite unintimidating to the she-cat.
"So you've arrived at last," said Scourge. "Not alone, it smells like. Hm, that's just like you, still incapable of following simple direct-"
"You requested an audience with me, little brother?" interrupted the dirty she-cat, sitting in front of Scourge.
"Er - I, I did," said Scourge. He too sat, childishly hating his sister inside for mentioning that she was born first. He cleared his throat before continuing. "As you should know from your previous attempts to raid the twoleg rubbish place, my Clan is thriving... much unlike you expected, no doubt."
The she-cat snorted, unimpressed. "Judging by what I can see, you and I have two very different definitions for the word 'thriving'..." she taunted. "Oh, why ever did you leave our family? I joined GraveClan and now we're unstoppable!"
"I left because of all of that StarClan foxdung you so misguidedly clung to!" growled Scourge violently, his fur rising. "All the false prophetic apparitions you tried to force on me! I wanted to show you all - especially you, Wormstar - that I could be a great leader without the aid of imaginary ghosts!" He paused, then seemed to settle down, the fur on his neck flattening a bit. "But, that's... that's not even the point..."
"Then what is the point, Scourge?" asked Wormstar, impatiently waving her tail. "Have you called me here simply to brag about this brainless gaggle of rogues you miscall a Clan? Or complain about my religion? Or is there something worth listening to that you want to say? Because if not, I have my deputy with me, and he would be most displeased if you forced me to interrupt him and his mate for nothing..."
"It just so happens, I do have an important proposition for you," said Scourge, struggling to control his temper. "As I said, my Clan is thriving. We have more queens and kits now than ever before. And we're beginning to feel a bit... boxed in. Bone, perhaps you'd like to take it from here?"
He gestured for the massive black-and-white tom behind him to step forward. Bone walked up beside his leader, sat, and spoke in a loud, clear growl. "Our alley is overpopulated - BloodClan cannot provide for it's less capable members with the sudden scarcity of prey. We've called you here to negotiate for a portion of GraveClan hunting territory..."
Wormstar snorted again, but this time, in amusement. "Did you hear that, Skullstorm?" she meowed. "They want a bit of our land for hunting!"
Skullstorm lumbered out of the shadows for the first time that night. Bone might have been huge, but Skullstorm was monstrous - the brown-and-black GraveClan deputy towered over every cat in the alley, and made them all (except for Wormstar) look like terrified little kits. He looked at his leader, then back and forth between Scourge and Bone. Bone looked a little nervous, but Scourge didn't even seem phased.
"So this is your deputy..." said the BloodClan leader boredly. "Well, as Bone said, we're prepared to negotiate, and I think you'll find the circumstances quite... oh, shall we say, influential..."
"You may be wondering what we could possibly have that you would want bad enough to exchange for territory..." said Bone. "Well, the answer is - lives."
Wormstar waited as her brother and and his deputy chuckled at something. Then Scourge straightened up and, in a much louder voice than before, meowed, "Now listen up! You will relinquish a portion of territory to us! If you do not, we will come in and take it ourselves, by force! And I warn you, no one has ever defeated BloodClan! Those who oppose die by our claws!"
Wormstar burst out laughing. Even Skullstorm let out a few devilish chuckles. "Oh, some negotiations! Take it by force, will you?" meowed Wormstar. "You and what army?"
Scourge growled. "Well, I was thinking... this army." He motioned with his tail. And then, from seemingly everywhere, cats began to pour into the alley, emerging from the shadows - out of grates, out from under dumpsters, out of garbage cans... all over. By the time it was done, Scourge was surrounded by fifty or more allies - all of them looked dirty and mean, ready to kill at his command.
For the first time in the alley, something that could have been worry flickered on Wormstar's face, but just as quickly as it came, it was gone. "Ah, this army..." she said. "Well, what is this filthy symphony of mews composed of?" Her eyes narrowed. "You there! Where do you come from?"
She was pointing with her nose to a fat, powerful, scarred gray tom near the front. He didn't answer, so Skullstorm took a threatening step toward him - that got him talking. "M-my name is... well, my new name is Split..." he began, nervously eying Wormstar's deputy. "I am from twolegplace... I belonged to the twolegs, long ago."
"I see," said Wormstar. "And how did you come upon my brother's Clan?"
"I was... bullied..." admitted Split. "By the other kittypets. Scourge offered me a chance to get revenge."
Wormstar nodded, noting with satisfaction the embarrassed look on Scourge's face. Then she turned to another cat, an old female near one of the alley walls. "And you... what sad tale have you to tell? What's your name, what's your story?"
The she-cat glanced at Skullstorm, then began. "My n-n-name is Root," she stuttered. "I was a l-loner, barely living, before Scourge found me and mercifully offered m-me food and shelter in return for my loyalty."
"Humph," said Wormstar. She shook her head with a grin and turned to a muscular tom that sat upon an overturned trash can. She called, "You look strong, what have you got to say?"
"I am Moss..." said the cat. "I was a rogue mercenary, killing in exchange for meals, for I was no hunter. Finally, I settled down in -"
But Wormstar didn't even wait for him to finish. She chose another cat, a very small, very young she-cat that appeared to be hiding behind the others. "Come out, young one! Who are you?"
"I... I am one of Scourge's many daughters..." squeaked the little cat nervously. "I've always been here, please..."
Wormstar faced Scourge again. He looked absolutely mortified. "Well, little brother," said the GraveClan leader, "you certainly have a sizable fighting force... one that may seem dangerous... at first. You have many allies, Scourge, but how many warriors? Can you tell me that? Very few, I'd wager..."
"SILENCE!" roared Scourge, his fur standing on end. If there was one person who could make him lose his temper, it was his sister. "Enough of your foolishness! I've had enough! Moss, destroy her!" The big mercenary called Moss leaped off of his trash can and lunged at Wormstar.
Wormstar's claws flashed - bizarre claws, they were, unnaturally long and strong and sharp - they soared through the air just as Moss reached her. Every cat in the alley watched in silence as Wormstar's claws tore a sizable chunk of Moss' face from his skull and sent it soaring - one of his eyes, an ear, a lumpy mound of meat, and a long, trailing stream of nervous tissue. The attack had actually pierced Moss' brain. The mercenary went down, blood spurting from the wound like water over a fall.
Wormstar licked the blood off of her claws before speaking. "If you and your silly gang of idiots want our land - you'll have to come and get it!" She and Skullstorm turned and departed the alley. Not a single cat followed them. They didn't dare.
When they had disappeared into the shroud of night, Scourge looked at the body of Moss, his former ally.
"Oh, Wormstar, you will pay for this insolence..."