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Book 1-Korrik, Surrey, And The Fox
Part 1- Harsh Climate
Korrik and his wife Valla lived in a lovely treetop
drey. It was almost completely hidden to the naked eye, and they
had always lived in peace. It was the picture-perfect home for a
peaceful family of squirrels to live.
Korrik did his daily chores, making any repairs
that needed to be done to his home, often helping Valla with the daily
tidying up of the inside, especially now that two newcomers had been added
to the family. Korrik, a large black squirrel, named both of them with
extreme pride. The first one,
with an amazing likeness to his father, was to be named Xylus, after
his great, great grandsire, a mighty warrior who had once lived with the
hares of Salamandastron.
The other one was a very unique creature, with very
rare features: A deep shimmering red coat covered his body, which struck
Korrik as strange, considering none of his ancestors in his knowledge had
ever been this color, neither had he ever known a creature with such fur.
His eyes were especially strange; one was a beautiful shade of amber, while
the other one was a shiny green. Korrik named him Dark, since he had been
born exactly at midnight.
The two squirrelbabes were like no other. Before
they could even walk or talk, they had an instant bond, unlikely in many
siblings. They were both born with a marking above their left eye; the
birthmark was shaped like a small dagger. Korrik felt a strong feeling
in his heart that these two would grow up to be warriors like he. Hopefully
they would lead peaceful lives, but it was very unlikely with all of the
evil roaming the land.
* * * * *
A vermin horde had been roaming the area, murderers,
thieves, and havoc wreakers. They were led by a tall brown fox, a fierce
and dirty fighter by the name of Durrem Killkorr. Durrem was never challenged
by his horde, for they knew that there was no way of beating him. He was
the most evil of all
evil, and strategically ingenious. He had won battles even when he
was out numbered five to one.
Durrem trained his horde to the fullest, making
sure each of them was of full capability, and killing the ones that weren't.
Many were driven by fear of their leader, while others were loyal and completely
respectful to him. They did his bidding, knowing that they would not be
treated unfairly. Durrem
promised them food and riches and that is what they received. He ate
the same rations, he marched at the same speed, and in return expected
them to do the same.
Durrem's horde of six and a halfscore vermin had
roamed the land and had killed their enemies with ease. Durrem had never
been scared of a foe, or even felt threatened by one. Except one.
Many seasons back, when Durrem had only a score
of vermin under his command and a beautiful vixen as his wife, he had been
roaming southern Mossflower. One day he was walking through the forest
with his wife, when suddenly a black squirrel dropped from a tree and held
Durrem's wife hostage with his scimitar. The black squirrel had told him
to leave the area before harm came to the both of them. Durrem agreed and
quickly fled back to his horde along with his mate.
Durrem was a vengeful fox, so obviously he armed
his band of vermin and headed back to the area where he had encountered
the foe. They searched the area thoroughly and came across a tiny peaceful
village of no more than 25 squirrels, hedgehogs, mice, shrews, and a few
otters. With his horde fully prepared, they attacked the village, destroying
homes and many of the peaceful goodbeasts.
During the attack, Durrem's wife got seperated from
him, and attacked a small hut. Durrem, wanting to protect his mate from
harm, ran to her aid as fast as he could, but a moment too late. The black
squirrel, along with four other warriors, had already killed her. Durrem
felt anger like never before. By the time he reached his dying mate, the
squirrel and his friends had retreated. Durrem sat with his wife for her
final two minutes of life and wept, knowing that his main goal in life
was to kill the black squirrel, even if it meant sacrificing his own life.
Now, Durrem's horde were much farther North. He
had gotten word that a black squirrel lived in the area, and Durrem had
a strong feeling it was his enemy. They headed west through the forest
searching every dwelling, climbing every tree, killing anyone that stood
in their way.
Durrem sat in his tent, thinking of ways he would
kill his enemy, if he ever found him, when a stoat officer named Korjo
walked in. "Sir, I have some very good news."
Durrem eyed the stoat with an insane glare. "What
is it?"
"Sir, less than a day's march. We've found him,"
he said, knowing that his leader would know what he meant.
With a hungered expression the fox leapt up. "You
mean--"
The stoat smiled. "No doubt it's him."
The fox grabbed his crossbow and two silver scimitars.
"Have Tolltooth get the troops ready. I want you to lead the way." Korlo
left the tent immediately, leaving Durrem to sharpen his scimitars, before
fulfilling his life's purpose.
* * * * *
Korrik came home to his wife and two kids with a grim expression. Valla
looked at him with a worried glance. "What's wrong, Korrik?"
He scratched his head, as if he was confused by
the question. "I have a bad feeling about something. The problem is I don't
know what." He walked over to a wine-filled wooden cup and took a sip.
"Has anything strange happened today?"
Valla set baby Xylus into his crib and poured herself
a cup of wine. "Nothing I've seen. Actually it's been pretty quiet. I guessed
you could call that strange," she giggled. "It is probably your hunger
talking." She motioned to the table which was now set with food. Korrik
smiled. "You always know how to cheer me up."
He sat down and dug in to the delicious woodland
salad Valla had prepared. It was full of nuts, cheeses, apple slices, and
a bit of honey for a sweet aftertaste. It was Korrik's favorite meal and
Valla knew that.
Valla sat down in a rocking chair, with a tired
sigh. She looked at her dear husband with a sad look. Even though she denied
any reason for Korrik to have a strange feeling, deep down she felt exactly
as he did. Something bad was to happen soon; she just didn't have any clue
what it could be.
Surrey's holt were travellers; They never stayed
in one spot for more than a season. Their motto was: "Never stay, explore
away. Live life to the fullest, Sieze the day." And with this in mind,
once again Surrey had led his band of otters northwest, only this time
Surrey had a destination in mind: his old friend Korrik's house. He had
gotten word of a vermin horde and decided to warn his old fightin' buddy
about it.
Surrey and Korrik had grown up together in a small
village called Meadowbell. They grew to be known as the peacekeepers of
the village, and even fought to restore tranquility. But one day, Meadowbell
was ransacked and destroyed by a vermin horde led by a fox, who's name
Surrey still had burned into his mind: Durrem...Durrem...Durrem. But Surrey
had figured the fox was dead by now, and decided not to go on any wildgoose-chases.
Surrey, a tall brown otter, sat in his tent studying
a map. It held the directions for Korrik's drey. He had almost completely
memorized it when a fat otter named Pudgin broke the silence. "Surrey,
there's a river up ahead, less than half a league away. The water's crystal
clear and fruits growin' everywhere."
Surrey smiled and got up off of his chair. "Good
job Pudgin. Let everyone else know where we are heading to." Surrey skipped
out of the tent like a playful otterbabe. The holt hadn't been swimming
in what seemed like days.
The holt, which consisted of thirty otters, had been
travelling on an endless meadow of green grass that stretched for miles
on leagues. Occasionally, the otters would pass by a small stream so they
were never out of water, and food was always abundant among the holt. The
treeline had begun to get closer, not even a mile away.
It was about midday when Surrey and the rest reached
the large broadstream, and allowed everyone to rest for an hour or so.
Surrey sat in an old canvas chair, basking in the
sun. He closed his eyes and dreamed of the old times he had had with his
old buddy Korrik: playing by the old waterfall, acting like great warriors
as babes, stealing pies from windowsills. But of course, all of that was
shattered by time and vermin. His village was burnt down, many of his friends,
his young life had been destroyed, all because of the fox.
Surrey's dreams began to turn into nightmares. Images
of Korrik turned into pictures of a young black squirrel, very very similar
to Korrik, standing loyally beside the fox; the death of another squirrel
he did not recognize; the destruction of a large ship; and then it all
concluded with an image of a grand Port full of good creatures, struggling
to survive.
Then, suddenly, Surrey was awaken from his troubled
sleep by a warrior otter named Skanjo. He looked extremely worried. "Sir,
sir wake up! Hurry! Surrey, WAKE UP!!! We've sighted vermin just over the
hill. About thirty or so, all armed. They're comin' this way." Surrey jumped
out of the chair and
grabbed his otter javelin and his rubberwood sling.
He quickly stood on a nearby treestump and addressed
his holt. "All warriors, prepare to fight! Vermin are headed this way,
and knowing them, they are murdering thieves. All young ones and creatures
not willing to fight: I want you to run as fast as you can towards the
treeline. It isn't that far."
Not an otter dropped their weapon. They were all
willing to fight for their leader and their holt. Surrey's chest swelled
with pride mixed with excitement, as he led his otters towards the hill.
He halted the rest with the wave of his paw when they reached the foot
of the hill. "Archers ready!"
Durrem charged up the grassy hill at full speed,
at the very front of just a portion of his horde. He reached the very top
within half a minute, but ducked low when an arrow went whizzing by, killing
an unsuspecting weasel. He motioned for them to crawl towards the peak
of the hill. He whispered loudly, "Stay down..I want all archers and slingers
in front. They'll lead the assault.."
Half of the small group came crawling forward, weapons
drawn. "When I give the signal, fire." He peered over the edge once more
and saw a line of only thirty otters, all at the ready. He smiled; he knew
his plan would not fail.
The evil fox drew in as much breath as he could
before yelling at the top of his lungs. "DDDDDIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEE!!!!"
Surrey realized what was happening a second too late.
The vermin at the top of the hill were just decoys. Fivescore more vermin
came charging over the hill behind them, leaving the holt trapped on both
sides. He yelled out orders. "Retreat! Retreat into the river! Run for
the forest!"
Durrem's group of thirty all fired flying missiles
at the absconding holt, cutting off 7 of Surrey's beasts. He watched as
the other hundred of his horde attach to the otters in close combat, taking
them down one by one.
The fox yelled out more orders. "Archers ready!
Slingers ready! Fighters, cut them off at the next hill! The only way for
them to go is over, so go around it!" The vermin obeyed, even though he
was barely heard over the melee of battle.
Surrey swung his sling in circles into the vermin,
knocking a few out cold. "Arrows fly true!" Otter arrows flew into the
ranks, killing nearly 10. "Slingers Fire!" Another four vermin met their
buddies at Dark Gates.
The otters were forced to charge up the hill, even
though all of them knew they would be surrounded on all sides eventually.
With complete determination, they all ran forward at full speed, not worrying
about their wounds.
A rather large ferret swung his staff at Skanjo
the otter, but he simply ducked and stabbed him in the stomach with his
sword. The ferret fell to the ground, causing other vermin to trip over
him. Skanjo smiled a very rare smile, and yelled, "It's still Spring, you
idiots! Not Fall!" He could feel his legs beginning to weaken and was short
of breath.
He looked over at Surrey who, although was cut pretty
badly over the shoulder, was fighting like a madbeast. Skanjo ran to help
him out with fighting, but then he noticed the vermin begin to slacken
off. It took nought but a few seconds before he realized the vermin horde's
plan. He grabbed
Surrey by the arm. "Surrey, sir. The vermin are going to surround us
when we get to the top of this hill. What do you say we do?"
Surrey patted his otter friend and felt tears spring
up to his eyes. "There's only one thing to do." Skanjo nodded passively
and held his sword high.
Durrem cought up to his horde who had the small
hill surrounded on all sides, trapping the otters at the very top, and
were slowly closing in on them. "Well, my otter friends, any last words?"
Surrey looked down in hatred at the evil fox, and
then finally realized who it was. "YOOOUUUU!!!!" He threw his otter javelin
at Durrem, but barely missed as the fox grabbed one of his own vermin as
a sheild. Skanjo grabbed Surrey and held him tightly, keeping him from
charging down into the vermin ranks.
Durrem smiled at the vengeful otter. "Do I know
you?"
Surrey's eyes began to turn red as he struggled
to get loose of Skanjo's grip. "You should; a peaceful village of peaceful
creatures brought to death. All by your paws. YOU WILL DIE!!"
Durrem shaded his eyes from the bright sun as he
looked happily up the grassy hill at the otter. Then he turned to his horde
and yelled so that Surrey could hear. "Look troops! I have a fan!" The
horde all broke out into giggles, making Surrey so mad that Skanjo could
no longer hold him.
Surrey kicked Skanjo away and walked quickly down
the hill towards the fox. "Prepare to die fox!" He pulled out his sling,
which was already loaded with a large stone. He swung it in circles above
his head to indicate he wanted a challenge.
Durrem held his hand up to halt anyone from firing
at Surrey. It was exactly at that moment when Durrem also realized who
this enemy was. Surrey was one of the few that had murdered his wife. "You
killed my wife, you dead otter!" He unsheathed his two scimitars. "You
killed my mate!"
Surrey and Durrem each eyed each other with extreme
hatred, each having a good reason to.
Up at the top of the hill, Pudgin and Skanjo both
stood looking down. "What are we going to do, Skanjo?"
"Tell the holt to get into Split-O formation."
Pudgin smiled. "Good idea, Captain Skanjo."
It was quick as lightning, the charge made by both
enemies. Durrem swung his scimitars at Surrey, narrowly missing. Surrey
dodged to the side and knocked Durrem forward with his sling. Durrem, feeling
somewhat shocked at the otter's agility, backed off two steps. Then without
thinking, he swung one scimitar at Surrey.
Surrey sidestepped to dodge but forgot about Durrem's
other sword. Durrem brought it down the side of the otter's hip, making
a very visible bloody gash. Surrey winced but anger drove him on even further.
He swung his sling at Durrem's head. Durrem brought his swords up to block
but not in time. Durrem felt extreme pain in his forehead as the stone
struck his face.
As the fox fell, he brought his sword up and unknowingly
knocked the sling out of Surrey's paws. Durrem couldn't see his enemy due
to temporary blindness from getting hit, so he kicked out with all strength.
Luckily for him, his legs connected with Surrey, knocking the otter to
the ground longside Durrem. They were both barely conscious, one from a
stone, the other from bloodloss.
As the vermin were busy watching the fight between
leaders, the otters had already formed an escape plan. They formed a half
circle formation, with all close combat fighters in front, while the archers
remained on the inside, so they could fire over their heads.
Skanjo stood in front of the pack, his sword at
the ready. He held his arm up, waiting for the right moment to give the
signal.
Surrey slowly got to his footpaws, and Durrem followed
seconds later. It took a few seconds before either of them to regain his
senses. Surrey was about to charge at the fox when suddenly a loud call
came up from the otters. "Riverboooooouuunnndd!!" Before the vermin realized
what had happened, the otters cut through them like butter and ran headlong
toward the treeline.
Both Durrem and Surrey forgot what they were fighting
about and seperated; Surrey ran as fast as he could to catch up with his
holt, even though he was completely weaponless.
Durrem yelled out even more orders. "Get those otters!
Forget firing arrows, just go after them!" Vermin ranks unsheathed their
weapons once again and charged after them, many with the intent of killing
Surrey.
Surrey was running for dear life, somewhat worried
that the rest of his holt wouldn't make it. A stoat troop, faster than
most, had caught up to Surrey. He swung his long daggers at the waterdog.
Surrey dodged each attempt and then kicked the stoat in the stomach. The
stoat lost his balance and then tripped over a jagged rock. the daggers
flew out of his hand and Surrey jumped up and cought one. He was no longer
as vulnerable.
He was in a dangerous situation: His holt, which
now numbered 14, was too far away to help him. He looked back and saw upwards
of 90 rats, weasels, ferrets, foxes, stoats, and martens, all bloodthirsty.
They were gaining on him quickly. He was not perfect; his chest began to
burn from exhaustion, and all of his wounds were stinging like mad.
The flat grassy meadow that the otter had been travelling
on for miles was beginning to change shape. The ground was not so flat
anymore, but began to curve steeply downwards. Surrey saw that his holt
had reached the treeline already, and were nearly safe from harm. Surrey,
on the other hand was still a few hundred feet away. The vermin were in
hot pursuit. An occasional javelin or arrow would bury itself in the ground
next to his footpaws, driving him to go faster and stronger.
Suddenly, a loud voice yelled out to the otter,
"Duuuuckk!"
Surrey obeyed and laid low to the ground. Ten arrows
flew out of the forest and into the vermin ranks, each arrow taking down
one. He got back up and ran.
Durrem wasn't even close to getting tired. His hunger
for revenge had driven him to amazing stamina. It was almost too late for
the fox after seeing the hailing arrows, but his quick thinking got him
out of that
situation. He rolled sideways to dodge, leaving a ferret soldier to
suffer an arrow-ific death. Even more arrows flew out of the forest, but
many missed and hit the ground. "Everyone! Duck behind the rock copse over
there! They can't hit us if we are hidden!" Yelled Durrem. The horde did
as they were told and swiftly ran to cover, away from the next volley of
aerial death.
Surrey had finally made it to the cover of trees,
when a bright brown hedgehog jumped out of a tree. "Ye best hurry and come
wit us, lad, before those evil ones yonder get yer head on a stick."
The otter looked confused. "Where are the others?"
An answer was given to him a moment later; 8 other sturdy hedgeogs all
jumped out of their trees, large bows in each of their grasps. "We be the
Treespikes, boot there's nay time for interdooctions. Foolow oos!"
* * * * *
Durrem waited behind the rock copse for what seemed
like half an hour. He could never be too cautious, though his horde was
getting impatient. He called to a rat officer. "Snootar, what do we number;
how many casualties?"
"Sir, we counted 73 able beasts, 24 heavily wounded,
and 29 dead, milord."
Durrem looked somewhat shocked. "29 dead? We lost
that many? How many otters killed?"
Snootar was ready for his questions, but reluctant
to answer. "We counted 15 dead, Lord Killkorr."
Durrem was not liking the numbers his officer had
given. "29 compared to 15. We outnumbered them more than four to one, yet
we doubled them in casualties. What is this, a horde of ferretbabes?!"
The fox's voice began to rise. A squeak of rage was evident in his voice.
"Tell everyone to get ready. We're marching after the otters!" Snootar
agreed, knowing that there was no reason to; the entire horde had heard
their leader's shouts.
Next Part In The Series-Black
As Night. Here's a clip...
Korrik brought his two trusty sabers with him, of
course. Whenever he was out in the woods he always carried his sabers.
Many times he had gotten himself into situations where he would have ended
up dead had it not been for his swords. Each saber was made of unbreakable
steel, painted black. The
handles were painted with a shiny exterior and looked as if they were
made of solid gold, then wrapped in a tough leather for gripping. Three
emeralds were embedded into each hilt.
The sabers were absolutely amazing at the sabers
stunningly awesome, they were sturdy and very reliable for a tough squirrel
like Korrik.
Korrik had not gone twoscore yards from his drey
when suddenly a party of two rats and two weasels came strolling towards
him. They were all armed and ready to fight, it appeared. Korrik unsheathed
his sabers and kept an upright posture. "What business do you have on this
land, vermin?"
A large brown weasel stepped forward to answer.
"We are servants under the mighty fox, Lord Killkorr, ruler of all enemies.
We are on a mission, so please step aside before we rip out your heart
and feed it to you."
"Idle threats from an idle fighter," replied Korrik.
"I'm not just another helpless dormouse for you to murder. I will give
you a warning, and this will be the only warning I give: Leave this land
right now, or..."
"Or what?"
Korrik took a warrior's stance and then smiled.
"Or DIIIIIEE!!" Korrik charged with mighty force at the vermin. His blades
clashed upon the brown weasel's double claymores as the battle begun. The
weasel yelled at the other vermin while fighting with Korrik. "Stay back!
Watch as I make a fool out of this peevish squirrel!"
Korrik brought one saber in a wide left arc while
keeping the other back for defense. The weasel blocked Korrik's attempt
and kicked the squirrel in the stomach. Korrik backed up, clutching his
stomach. Then he stood straight up and ran at the weasel. Two yards before
reaching the weasel, Korrik slid to the ground and tripped the weasel's
feet out from under him. He then quickly jumped up and stabbed the weasel
in the chest, in one swift-as-lightning move.
The other vermin were surprised at the squirrel's
speed. "Who wants to fight me next?"
They all stepped forward.
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