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[Frogwarrior]

24 Timber, some more action briefly visited Screampacks in the form of a brown bear that wandered into one of the abandoned huts and stole some meat. Nobody would have thought it worth noticing, as there were plenty of abandoned hovels with plenty of meat still stored inside, but Natalie wasn't about to let it get away. Shrieking like a banshee, she hurtled towards the bear and began pumping it full of bone. The angry bear turned to swat the nuisance, but the fierce warriors arrived just in time. Amalgam and 100killer9 leapt at the monster, teeth and claws sinking into the thick fur and the tough hide beneath.

With one swipe of its titanic paws, it pried 100killer9 off its enraged body and dashed her to the ground. She leapt away, but a wildly flung claw caught her on her back legs, gashing them deep. Amalgam followed as she limped away from the brute, hissing up a storm back at the ursine Godzilla - but the numerous deep wounds inflicted by bone shards propelled by Natalie's powerful lungs, lodged in its eyes, throat, and chest, finally brought the beast to the ground. It thrashed painfully, but it slowly bled to death as Natalie opened innumerable wounds while screaming "That's what you get for killing my father, BEAR!"

Bengali watched the later stages of the clash with admiration. Truly, she was a perfect choice for this expedition! And that sinuous tail... Mee-YOW!

----------

Winter arrived, and brought with it the first trade caravan to Screampacks in decades. Frogwarrior marched proudly out to meet them. Finally, a chance to put his bartering skills to use!

While the others moved crates of goods to the meeting place, Frogwarrior and the visiting merchant faced off.
"Greetings from The Bites of Troubling."
"And welcome from The Infallible Growls!"
The visitor smiled. "A strong feline name I'm sure. Well, what trinkets do you have to offer us? Wooden earrings?"
"Only the finest bone carvings from here. Well, and some wooden junk too, of course. Guys who were here before us didn't really clean up after themselves," Frogwarrior added with a wink. "But let's see what you've got. Lessee..."
Frogwarrior consulted a hidden note Bengali had written. Other than the obvious essentials, the note told Frogwarrior that certain other objects he otherwise would have passed up were required. And thus, Frogwarrior found himself buying, in addition to a few crates of leather and several ropes, several bars of metal and a breeding pair of dogs.

The other merchant eyes him with mild unease. On the way in, he'd seen evidence that there were already several dogs here. The feline part of him revolted at creating such a high density of the filthy beasts, as there's no way such a small expedition could possibly have any use for them. But the merchant part won, figuring he can at least get rid of the smelly brutes in exchange for a couple trinkets. A good trade in his estimation. Especially since he planned to make it cost this dog-loving trader.
He eyed the goods Frogwarrior had offered with a critical eye. "Is this all you can offer for these quality goods? Silver isn't exactly found in mouse crap, you know. How much are those earrings?"
Frogwarrior examined the pair of birchen earrings the trader had indicated. "I'd say these are worth, oh, 400 mousetails each, easily! Note the fine bands of leather, and the intricate bone rings..."
"Yeah, I'll take 'em. That'll be enough, for sure."
The trader hid a smirk. Serves the dog-lover right.
Frogwarrior also hid a smirk. He knew they couldn't be worth more than 200 each.

The trading completed, they prepared to leave. But first, Frogwarrior met with the liaison to request goods for the next year.
Again, he eyed a note from Bengali, and his face fell.
"We'd like you to bring plenty of leather. Also, as much copper and tin as you can spare. Some thread, and..."
Somehow he brought himself to continue. Bengali would pay for this.
"Dogs. Lots of dogs."
The diplomat looked at him with disgust almost, but not completely, restrained. Frogwarrior had never seen someone so anxious to wrap up a trade agreement in his life.

----------

The winter passed peacefully, without notable incident. This did not last long into the spring...

Next time; The blood-soaked finale to Chapter 1!

[Frogwarrior]

qq, I miss the times when people paid attention to this



----------

Is it not the nature of a true calamity, that it takes its victims unawares?

This was not on the minds of the small expedition at Screampacks, that day in Spring when it changed. It was certainly not on the mind of Natalie on the 24th of Granite by the dwarven reckoning (which cats had happily adopted, being of the opinion that if someone else has done all the work, no point in wasting valuable nap time changing it). No, Natalie was intent on more mundane tasks. Having returned from a fruitful fox hunt, she was preparing for a long nap.

Natalie was not the only hunter in Screampacks, however. The nonsapient cat Bengali had brought along had taken a liking to her, and vice versa. She named it Seize Twosword, and it indeed used its two paws to great effect. It wasn't as accomplished a hunter as her, but it had kept the rats under control.

Today, it had caught something different. A large roach had scuttled a little too close to it, and it pounced in a striking display of feline grace. It trotted triumphantly back to Natalie's nearby hut to proudly display its trophy as one hunter to another. She graciously accepted the gift, then shooed the cat out the door.

Two seconds later, she was shocked out of her near-sleep reverie by a horrific yowl right outside her door. She leapt outside, and stood in shock at the sight of her cat with an arrow protruding from its leg. Quickly, she looked around for the source, as her cat limped furiously away from - a war party of elves, not 50 meters away! She leapt back into her hovel, screaming for help. She barred the door and moved the food barrel in front of it, her mind working frantically.

----------

Her cries for help were heard by most of the expedition. Torture was sound asleep after a hard day's work at the shop, and Bengali was under the inn laboriously constructing more wells for expected visitors, but the others all heard her cries for help. Linda, on the way to the inn for a drink, decided the safest thing would be to stay as close to the warriors as possible. Amalgam shouted down to Bengali that they had unexpected guests, before he and 100killer9 set out to assess the threat. "Surely they cant' have found me already?" he mumbled to himself, right as Frogwarrior ran into the inn, out of breath.

"Elves!" he stammered as soon as he was able. "Elf war party! They killed Natalie's cat! Just tore it up!" He'd been on the way to his room when he'd been interrupted by the gruesome spectacle of three elven soldiers tearing an arrow-riddled cat in half. Amalgam, through his mild relief at the nature of the invasion, grunted something about handling them, but Frogwarrior would have none of it. "There's too many of them, and they have bows, you'll be shredded before you get close. And they're headed this way! We have to bar the doors, it's our only chance!"
"Where's Natalie?" Bengali asked as he ran up.
"I... I don't know, I didn't see her..." stammered Frogwarrior.
"We're NOT closing those damn doors without her!"
"We don't have TIME!" Frogwarrior yelled. And with that, he heaved on one of the great double doors with all his strength. Seeing the wisdom in this, Amalgam and 100killer9 joined in, and ths doors were soon shut and barred.
"Damn you," Bengali hissed. "If anything happens to her..."
"You'll what? Demote me?" Frogwarrior hissed back. "We didn't have time to wait for her!"

As if to prove him right, a voice called from right outside the barred door. A sultry, feminine, magical voice.
"Oh kitty, won't you come out and play? Come out, your friends are here for you..."
Silence exuded from the locked inn. Suddenly the doors didn't look quite as strong as they had earlier.
"Oh, but where are my manners?" the voice continued in lilting tones. "I am Aweme Fewetharelepi of the Crazy Fins," she declared proudly - and here Bengali let out a slight hiss - "and I am here for your leader. Bring out the one called Bengali! And we may show the rest of you some small mercy." Her musical laughter detracted not in the least from Bengali's look of angered terror, or Frogwarrior's feeling of triumphant confirmation. "I knew it," the latter hissed. "I knew he'd get us all killed."

----------

It was around this time that Torture had awoken from a dreamless sleep. He had left a carving half-finished in his shop, and itched to get back to work. He stumbled towards his shop in a half-awake daze, and made it just over halfway there when he glanced towards the inn. The sight of a throng of elves crowded around it was quite enough to startle him to his senses. Quickly, he judged that the safest course of action would be to dash towards his workshop - a not unbiased judgement to be sure, as there were a couple houses that were closer. Regardless, he ran with all his speed towards his haven, and almost reached it when he saw two elves just beyond Natalie's house on the other side of the shop. He yelped and quickly bounded inside, closing his workshop's door behind him. He was answered by a harsh cry from one of the elves, and an arrow thudding into the door's framework beside him.

Natalie barely heard Torture's yelp, but the elf's cry was much closer. Her hunter's intuition tingling, she quickly gauged the distance. Not too close... but certainly not too far!
She reached a quick decision, and moved the furniture from in front of her door as fast and quietly as she could manage. Taking a deep breath, as much for comfort as for firepower, she yanked the door open and leapt out. Not 20 meters away was an elven archer, with another warrior behind him heading towards the inn. Wasting no time assessing the situation, she let fly with a barrage of darts at the archer's slender form. One of the worked shards of bone caught him full in the throat, and he choked on his blood even as he returned fire. He scored two lucky hits, on Natalie's hind legs, and she felt the bone crack from the impact in the right one. Her vision reddened from the pain, but she forced herself to concentrate. The other warrior had turned around and was running her way. So fast... But she fired again, and again, and again at the approaching elven figure, until she could find no more darts to fire.

Gasping for breath, she blacked out for half a minute. She came to, and saw with relief that both elves had died; the archer fell where he stood and the other had nearly reached her before his heart was pierced; he had managed to crawl a considerable distance before death claimed him. Unaware of where else to go, she limped away from the inn - and saw Torture, shadowed in the doorway of his shop, beckoning and hissing for her to come in. She dragged herself over to the welcoming structure, and Torture sealed the door. The doors here had always seemed a bit heavier than average, which they were both quite glad of at this moment. Torture bound her wounds and made a splint for the fractured leg. And then they waited.



----------

More to follow!

[Urist McOverlord]

Elf attack =epic

Loving the story so far. Well done. Very dwarvenly felineish

[Frogwarrior]

Glad to hear it!

I do hope the writing style I'm working my way into is workable - the journal entries are useful for getting a character perspective, but lack something in terms of narration style. I'm hoping to get a decent amount of writing practice out of this; I have crazy aspirations.

At any rate, you shall soon have a migrant, never fear. Or... Maybe you should...

[Frogwarrior]

Across the town, four cats huddled in the inn. Around them wafted strains of elfsong, as the invaders outside made merry with sung requests for them to give in.

Holed up in the inn
The little cats cringe
While down on the ground, there's elves all around.

With an elf on the left,
And an elf on the right
Those poor little kitties won't last through the night.

Pssst - it's hopeless!

It's time to give up,
Your hope fell away,
Bengali, Bengali, Bengali, come play!

Linda rushed down the stairs from her vantage point at one of the upstairs windows. "Guys! I've just seen Natalie!"
"Where?" asked Bengali, grateful for a distraction from the elven songs and the unspoken questions.
"Across camp. She took out a couple of the elves! I think I saw her run into the bone shop."
Bengali rushed madly to the top floor, and peered out through the small window towards the other side of camp. Sure enough, the failing light revealed a small contingent of the elven party clustered around Torture's workshop, trying ineffectually to force the heavy door open.
Frogwarrior, struck with the ghost of an idea, asked Bengali "Do you have your tools in here?"
"Yes, I was working on the wells. Why?"
"Well, if these windows were a little wider, they'd be great for shooting through..."
"What, you want to give the elves some target practice?"
"Neh, I was thinking more if Natalie were over here..."
"Well, she's not," Bengali growled. "She's on the other side of the damn creek. Won't do us any good over there."
A few moments later, his face lit up with a sudden idea.
"What?" said Frogwarrior, noting the change. "Why are you looking at me like that. ... Oh, good grief no."

And so it was that Frogwarrior spent the next two days and a half digging a path under the creekbed and across the town. Fortunately, he judged the distance just about exactly right, and popped up in the cellar under Torture's workshop.

----------

"Natalie!" cried Bengali. "You're alright! - But your legs..."
"I'm alright," she grunted through the pain. "But I don't think I'm good for much."
"Well, can you hold on for just a little longer? I've carved slots for you to shoot through. So, just start picking them off, and we'll let Amalgam and 100killer9 finish the job."
She barely managed a smile. "I think I can manage that..."

----------

"Bengali..." The voice drifted through the heavy door once more. "Your friends in that building can't get out. And - oh! I bet there's not much food in there, either!" She laughed. "Nothing in there to eat but cat meat... I wonder which one will be food first?
"Unless you come out... We can spare them that fate..."

Again, the elves lifted their voices in song.
Where have all the kitties gone?
Long time passing
Where have all the kitties gone?
Long time ago
Where have all the kitties gone
Gone to hiding, every one
When will they ever learn
When will they ever le-AAARGH!

One of them clutched to his head, grabbing at the dart sticking out of his ear. Around him, pandemonium began to spread as the cruel darts rained down. Soon the elven throng degenerated into a milling mass of elves trying to get away from an invisible foe, with Aweme screaming at them to pull themselves together and a few archers returning laughably ineffective fire at the unseen, tiny slot. And then, the unmistakable scrape of wood as the huge doors swung open. Two ferocious champions of furry mayhem shot out fang-first and tore into the soft elven flesh of the hapless invaders. As their brethren fell with torn throats, the elven mass fell into a full panicked retreat. Amalgam and 100killer9 followed the clump of invaders heading south, picking them off one by one.



With impeccable ferocity, they slaughtered the fleeing clump - until 100killer9 looked back, and saw a small group that was escaping unmolested. Not one to leave a travesty like that unaddressed, she turned around and ran with all her considerable speed past the fleeing elves and spun to face them, fangs bared.
The elf in front of her stopped with a hiss. Aweme Fewetharelepi glared at the fierce warrior with rising unease. Sixteen elven warriors should not have lost to two warriors and a wounded markscat! But the metal-clad beast loomed in front of her, even with its dimunitive size.
Summoning the last of her courage, she stood defiantly and declared "This isn't over! There will be more! More, until you're all dead!"
100killer9 hissed, unfazed. "Then we will die with full stomachs." She leapt for the elf's throat.

----------



----------

Thus Screampacks had its first victory feast. Linda was never happier than now, with the opportunity to put her cooking talent to work with the finest elf meats. Spirits were high, as their first real battle as a team had been concluded with only a housecat as casualties - certainly, a tale like this could only win them the best attention from the homeland!

But Frogwarrior had been bothered by a small detail. He pulled Amalgam aside afterward and asked a pressing question. "When you found out we were under attack, I heard you say that 'they' had found you. Who's 'they?' "
Amalgam avoided his scrutinizing gaze, and said nothing.
Frogwarrior hissed. "Look. We've all got our secrets. But whatever Bengali's hiding almost got us killed! If you're hiding something dangerous, we need to know."
Amalgam sighed. "Dwarves," he said at length.
"What?"
"I made an enemy with the dwarves."
"I don't understand. How?"
Amalgam sighed again, deeper. "I was young, and rash..."
"What did you do?"
"You've heard of the near-collapse of that fortress, Reignportal? Of the Vestibule of Sensing?"
"Yes, of course. Some cats from the Bites of Troubling snuck in and overpopulated the place. They've been at war with us ever since, say we did it on purpose. Wait..."
Frogwarrior's hair stood on end. "You were one of them, weren't you. And now the dwarves are going to kill us if they find out. Is that it?"
"I wasn't one of them," Amalgam said. "I was it. It was all me. I snuck in and... they already had a cat problem, and I was young..."
Frogwarrior stared at him in horror, and not a little awe. "You single-handedly caused the near-collapse of an entire dwarven stronghold?"
"Well..." Amalgam shifted uncomfortably. "I had a little help, you know. From the females..."
An uncomfortable silence draped itself over the conversation, until Bengali continued. "When it got to be too many of us, they... the dwarves didn't want to let us leave, they wanted to kill us all right there. We had to fight our way out. I think a hundred of us made it back to the Bites of Troubling. But that's why Bengali picked me. I already had military experience at such a young age that he'd never seen..."
Frogwarrior grunted his assent and turned to leave. He was stopped, though, by the sudden press of another question.
"One hundred of you?"
"About that many, I think. I didn't count, but..."
"Just how many females did you..."
Amalgam smirked.
"All of them."

----------

And only a couple days' travel away, the little town of Screampacks first came into view, as a column of cats slowly approached.

----------

END CHAPTER 1



Notes: Only 3 elves got away. Amalgam got five (and is now called The Fondled Dip of Sides) and Natalie got another five (and is now The Strangled Contempt of Tails). 100killer9 only got 3 elves, but she got the kobold from earlier and the squad leader, so it almost balances out. And yes, Natalie did go all that time, and 3 kills, with a broken leg.

Also, we have MIGRANTS! 18, actually, putting us at 25 cats!

The newcomers are, by profession and whether I'll be changing their occupation:
Overcat, Doomchef - Cook (Wrestler) - Urist McOverlord
Engraver
Hmrurraspmurrren, Butcher of Mice - Farmer (Milker, Cheese Maker, Tanner) - Will tan, butcher, and such - Haspen
Magpie, Collector - Gem Setter - Will stay as such - DeKaFu
Lye Maker
Cheddarius, Rock Star - Mason - Cheddarius
Ironfang, Master Smith - Metalcrafter - Metalcrafting and odd hauling jobs - Mephansteras
Kaluri, Trapsmith - Peasant (Mechanic) - Rivesand
Peasant
Peasant
Planter
Potash Maker - Has a pet puppy
Soap Maker
Stonecrafter - Will stay as such
Weaver - Has a pet kitten
Wood Burner
Woodcrafter - Will stay as such
Woodcutter - Will stay as such

No pre-existing relationships.

Unless otherwise noted, the migrants will probably be either haulers/project fodder or soldiers. Probably only a couple markscats and a lot of leather-clad wrestlers as far as soldiers go

Man, I can't wait to pick up DF for the first time in about a month and a half.

[Cheddarius]

Could I get the mason? Name is Cheddarius.

[Urist McOverlord]

Cross-train the cook in military and name him Overcat. He shall slay elves and create masterwork roasts from their corpses! Yeeeees...

[tehstefan]

Sweet. Natalie is good like that. broken leg, and managed to nap 3 kills regardless? Sweet.

[Frogwarrior]

From above, no less

I'll probably get a start on the next update soon enough. I guess most people are silly enough to not be interested enough in a barely-started cat fort. Nuts to them.

[Haspen]

Hmrurraspmurrren the Butcher of Mice.

If not possible, then just Hmrurraspmurrren the Butcher.

Or, if anything, a Tanner/Leatherworker will do.

[Mephansteras]

I'll take the metalcrafter. Name him/her Ironfang. Focuses solely on metal-working of all sorts as well as wood burning and smelting, of course.

[tehstefan]

pfft. Don't worry, no one expected Nist Akath to do half as well as it did.  Don't get disheartened!

[Frogwarrior]

Cheddarius, Overcat, and Ironfang - do you want a custom profession?

And hey, if I was disheartened I wouldn't say , I'd say .

[Mephansteras]

Ironfang should be 'Master Smith' for profession, and attempt to earn that title as much as possible. Once we have enough metal bars and lower workers to handle the smelting he/she should only perform smithing jobs.

[Cheddarius]

Could my custom profession be Rock-star?