Vargmir's Reign (PG-13)

[Wolf]

Well how should I describe this...erm its a book I'm writing seriously....for once
Plot Summary: An evil black wolf, probably Vermilition ;D
is trying to become ruler of Garron Haven with his army of dead ferrets etc and an otter, squirrel are pulled into finding the one who's trapped in Vargmir;s dungeons who knows how to stop him...blah blah blah...I'll get on with it now ;D


Vargmir’s Reign


~1~Horrors Unleashed~1~

Grass rippled in the warm wind as the midday sun beat down upon grassy meadows, warming it underfoot of a rabbit and his family as they warmed themselves in the heat, safe from harm in the humidity. Three young rabbits rolled around and tugged one another’s ears, giggling and shouting as they broke out into a mock fight, only pausing to feast on the assortment of food, their parents had brought with them. A large carrot cake, carrot cookies, a jar of jam and carrot scones were laid out on a big blanket and the family hungrily tucked in, sticky jam on the young ones paws and faces. They sat long after their lunch cleaning paws, ears and faces before packing up and under close guard by their parents, they began the journey home as dusk approached and predators began to arouse from their day time sleep.
Night came swiftly, quicker than usual; the shadows lengthening in the meadows as the sun was swallowed by the greedy darkness and the predators began to emerge, searching for prey in the gloom of their paradise.
The rabbits huddled together in their burrow, father clapping his paws together as he finished blocking the entrance of their den with mud and grass. He hopped down the narrow slope, to an open area with a table and rug in it and sat down next to his wife, smiling at his children as they said goodnight and hopped off down another passageway to sleep.
Suddenly from somewhere above, an unearthly howl split the night, striking fear into the rabbit’s hearts. They froze as heavy thuds sounded above, grains of earth falling from their makeshift ceiling as they got louder and closer. A terrible realisation dawned on the two as snuffling was heard. They’d been found!
More earth began to fall as the creature above them started jumping, causing the roof to begin caving in, and clumps of dirt bounced onto the earthen floor. The rabbits jumped up straight away and scrambled wildly down the narrow passageway to their children who moaned and huddled closely to their parents, unaware of what exactly was going on.
A growl echoed down the tunnel and shadows moved up ahead, taking on menacing forms, twisted and dangerous. Filthy curses filled the rabbit burrow and light showed the horror on the rabbits faces as the intruders carried torches and weapons, now visible at the end of the tunnel, weasel like faces and scrunched up expressions, fangs bared. In the half light of the torch, they seemed even more gruesome and twisted, unearthly creatures sent to do their master’s evil bidding. The poor rabbits had never seen anything like them in their life as they began to advance, bent low, dragging limbs at odd angles, jaws hanging slack and saliva dripping from their open mouths. They took on the forms of weasels and stoats, but where there were meant to be eyes there was nothing, but an empty black hole, deeper than the darkest sea and wider than that of the great lake itself.
In a last attempt of escape, father rabbit turned around and began kicking dirt at them, extinguishing their torches as they drew nearer and gradually building up a dirt pile. The mother frantically started digging at the back of the tunnel along with her three children, getting faster and wilder as horrible wails and screams issued from the advancing horrors, their limbs cracking and jaws grinding as they staggered into the pile of dirt and began digging awkwardly through it, throwing their skeletal bodies back and forth and swinging their bony arms, armed with menacing claws, tearing the dirt apart, jaws gnashing together as if they were already feasting on the flesh of their prey.
The hole at the back of the burrow was only a couple of feet deep when the first creature broke through the dirt pile father rabbit had tried to build. He kicked out bravely, with his back feet smashing the foul beast into a couple of others who clambered through, stumbling at the drop on the other side and bared his teeth, backing away, protecting his family as the children bounded through the hole, still scratching away with their paws.
A mauled ferret with a pickaxe lunged at father rabbit and smashed it into his head, instantly killing him. Blood sprayed into the ferrets face and instantly he began lapping it up, in a great frenzy, dropping to his knees and tearing into the dead rabbit. Several others who smelt the fresh kill staggered over and started shoving each other, trying to get at the warm meat.
Mother rabbit stood transfixed in front of the hole, eyes wide as she watched the creatures maul her dead husband. She shook terribly, legs trembling and mouth open in shock, sadly failing to notice a spiked club come towards her. The impact threw her body from the escape hole but the creatures united in their blood lust didn’t notice it and feasted, cursing and growling at each other. They snapped limbs and drank and ate and gored and fought and butchered the rabbits, squabbling among themselves whilst the three young rabbits continued to dig, terror driving them onwards when fatigue threatened to over take them.
The rabbits tried to dig quietly, hearts thudding in their chests and fear ripe in their mind as the sounds of the terrifying nightmares began to die away, but still the rabbits burrowed, trying to shake the images of their parents deaths from their minds and the thought that the creatures could be following behind them. They burrowed on.

[Wolf]

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~2~Forest Meeting~2~

A worm like tail slapped the ground as a small, one eyed rat waited nervously on the edge of a vast, dark forest. The twisted trees seemed to reach out and grab at the rodent as the wind blew the branches back and forth, making them creak in protest. The darkness blessed and gave them a clear form, making them alive as the moonlight shimmered on the waving branches. The rat stepped back, squeaking in fright as a low, rumbling growl sounded behind his thin form. He turned around, treading on his tattered cloak and was sent sprawling onto the hard packed mud, the breath knocked from his deformed body, eye wide as a large shadow loomed over him. The rat started scrambling away but choked as he was pulled back and slowly lifted up by his cloak, eye wide as he turned slowly around, gazing upon his captor. He squeaked and pulled at his cloak, tightening it further and working himself into a terrified frenzy, he squirmed and writhed, choking and pulling and pulling and choking. The rodent was suddenly shaken violently, earrings jangling as cold, barking laughter echoed in his rattled head. With a rip his cloak tore, relieving the rat of his captor and he fell, landing with a heavy thud upon the mud, tail beneath his shaken body.
“Really Rivet, how pathetic are you?” A voice snickered as a paw lifted the pitiful rat up, roughly placing him on his feet and flicked his nose with a claw, causing the rat to rub it haphazardly and glare up at the smirking fox.
“Shut up, Ratgar,” Rivet screeched, one eye furious with embarrassment, tail cracking the ground in front of the fox, causing the predator to lift his paw away from the potential weapon. He stood at his full height hoping to intimidate him, spine curved from many years of prowling around, low to the ground away from bullies like Ratgar the fox.
Ratgar merely smiled, sharp teeth flashing in the moonlight and stalked around the rat, his bushy tail hitting the rodent in the head, causing him to fall stooped again, tattered cloak over his head. He barked with laughter at the comical appearance of Rivet and sat behind him, thick, black cloak matching his odd black eyes and hooped earrings clinking together as the fox yawned lazily, keeping one eye on the impudent rodent. If he’d had his way, the rodent would have been long disposed of, but as it currently stood, he was allowed to do no harm to the snivelling coward.
“So Rivet, what brings you here, had enough of living in the slums of the meadows or have you been kicked out by your fellow kind, whom really are no better off than you currently are, though maybe they are quite lucky having stayed away from our territory-“
“Your territory!” Rivet snorted, “Bah, the day you have any part in this patch of land will be your burial, I’m sure the insects will greatly delight in your rem-“He was cut off as the fox leaped on him, eyes burning with anger.
“How dare you speak to me like that rat, I could end it all for you now, one bite and your dead!” His rancid breath washed over the quivering rat as he growled and pulled his head back, ready for the kill.
“Do that and I’ll have your tail for a brush,” A cold voice cut in, freezing the fox on the spot, giving the rat a chance to squirm from under the animals paws and out of reach. The fox stumbled back, ears flat and tail tucked low as he hastily bowed to the new figure, easily dwarfed by its immense size.
“I wouldn’t ever have done- I mean thought of killing the rat- rivet, never ever!” Ratgar cried, tone unusually high pitched as he stood, head bent slightly, paws nervously twitching.
“Save your snivelling vermin,” The cold voice spat with venom, causing Ratgar to sink lower to the ground, away from the well used abuse. He bowed and skulked, low to the ground away from the rat and towards the speaker, eyes glancing momentarily up into the gaze of the black wolf’s, fear taking hold of him as pure hate burned down, unfeeling and uncaring. When Ratgar passed the wolf, he muttered a curse under his breath, yelping as the wolf whose keen hearing had picked up the language, roughly knocked him with his paw, sending the fox a few feet away.
Rivet grinned coldly at the fox, who struggled to get up, face immediately straight again as the snarling wolf whipped his head around to face him. He bowed low to the ground, hastily standing again as the black creature impatiently tapped his claw on the mud, sending dust up into the rodents face. He spluttered and coughed, waving away the cloud with his paw and recited what he’d been told.
“The old bear lord of Garron has taken ill my lord, it won’t be long now till he dies and the council will be looking for a new lord.” The rat spoke thoughtfully, trying to remember everything. He tapped a claw against his gnarled, splintered teeth and grinned up at the wolf. “There are no heirs left to take the bears place, m’lord!” The rat cackled but was quickly silenced by the black predator as he growled, hot, stinking breath causing Rivet to stumble back gagging.
“That’s it? You summon my presence to tell me the stupid, old bear is dying,” The wolf spoke calmly, voice edged with malice. “Fox, get your hide over here now!” He roared suddenly, fingering the large axe which hung at his waist from a black, leather belt, blood red runes engraved upon it. His shaggy mane tugged in the wind and his bright yellow eyes pierced the night. Vargmir evil lord of wolves watched the fox, crawl towards him unsure, ears flat against his skull, making sure he was lower than the taller animal.
“Ye...s m’lord,” Ratgar spoke, voice cracking as he saw the wolf look directly into his eyes again. His black eyes flickered over the large axe against his hip making him shudder involuntarily at it’s wickedly, curved edge.
“We leave now,” Vargmir growled and turned his gaze upon the rat, “Make sure the news you bring next time is worth it otherwise when I’m through with you your life will not be.” The wolf turned and stalked away, bushy black tail swaying, brushing against Ratgar’s face as he passed making the fox grimace before he obediently followed, grey tail low.
Rivet watched the two predators leave and stuck out his thin tongue, before crouching and sprang away into the night, tattered cloak whipping out behind him, the remains of his cloak left upon the mud from where it had been torn on the edge of the dark, dead forest.

[Wolf]

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~3~Close Encounter~3~

A squirrel darted from a bed of reeds and bolted for a large oak, tail high before a well aimed stone struck the animal in the head, sending it head over tail into the base of the tree.
“Ouch, Bracken that hurt,” The squirrel complained as he sat up and rubbed his head, gazing up at an otter who appeared into view, sling in hand, eyes scanning over the ground for another rock. She looked up at the fallen squirrel and smiled, odd green eyes matching the green bow between her ears. She wore a black neckerchief, found by the river one day.
“Sorry Samuel, you nearly made it, better luck next time,” Bracken the Otter piped up cheerfully as she danced over to the squirrel and helped him to his feet, before tying the sling about her waist.
“No problem, just not so hard next time,” Samuel grumbled rubbing his head again as a lump began to form. He curled his bushy tail around himself as he sat down and patted the ground beside him, gesturing for the otter to do likewise.
Bracken fell down beside Samuel and absent mindedly, picked up a pebble next to her and threw it a few feet away, watching it skip across the grass and jitter to a stop, motionless.
“One day Samuel, I’ll be a fighter like my father, no matter what the other girls think. They’re set on becoming good mates and cooks, but it all seems rather boring, don’t you think?” Bracken asked the squirrel, curious as to what he maybe wanted to do when he was older; being still considered pups or cubs was rather frustrating when there was a good fight going on. She wasn’t entirely defenceless, having knocked out a few weasels and birds who decided to pick a fight with her kind and yet they still didn’t let her fight any battles on her own accord! She was broken out of her thoughts by Samuels answer,
“Well, I don’t really know Bracken,” Samuel replied rubbing the back of his neck, “I’m not a girl...” His face went red but he swallowed, “And I’m not really into fighting but I know how to use a wooden pole or stick if it comes to it, personally weasels scare me, so do big birds and rats and fish and-“
“Oh Samuel you’re scared of caterpillars,” Bracken said amused, trying to stifle a laugh when she saw the embarrassed look on the young squirrels face. She gave him a playful shove and stood up, before falling forwards into a roll and stood up again, arms spread, holding Samuels belt.
“How did you...” Samuel began, feeling for his belt which held up his grey, patched trousers, face going red against his orange fur as he pulled them up to his waist, shortening them on the legs and stood up.
Bracken couldn’t help laughing at his funny appearance and danced around him, swinging the belt like a sling, before tossing it back to the squirrel, which hastily caught it and threaded it through the home made loops on the trousers.
The two friends lay on the river bank, watching the clouds drift and float past, weightless like birds riding thermals. Occasionally one of them would point out one shaped like an animal or a pattern in the sky, and then they’d fall silent again as the cloud watching resumed.
A low muttering, followed by a foul curse and some rustling, alerted the two animals and they sat up, gazing behind themselves at the bushes a few metres away which ran alongside the river, following its course. A sharp crack, followed by a squeal sounded closer this time and Samuel scampered backwards, Bracken catching him in time as he nearly fell into the river and hauled him to one side, concealed in a bed of rushes, overhanging onto the grassy bank. They sat in silence as a glint came into view followed by more foul curses, indicating the presence of the strangers. A tall, thin squirrel came into view, carrying a curved dagger, tangled in the plant growth of the bushes he’d tried to cut through. His fur was mottle grey and one ear was badly torn as was his face, which held deep scars, disfiguring his face and pulling his eye socket and eyeball lower than the other one, giving him a lopsided look, to go with his unnaturally sharp teeth. The ragged squirrel turned his head, bringing his thin bedraggled tail into view and growled to another animal which was stooped and unbelievably thin, a tattered cloak about his frail neck and his one eye wide and searching. The one eyed rat stepped hastily towards the squirrel and looked about, uncertain.
“Where are we Rivet?” The squirrel growled, teeth bared at the rat who cowered away from the dagger in his gnarled paws. Shakily Rivet, sidestepped around the fearsome squirrel and gazed out at the river and beyond into a forest. He walked along the waterside, getting closer to Bracken and Samuel, nose quivering as he scented something.
“What is it now rat?” the squirrel said sighing, paws on bony hips, eyes glaring at him. Rivet turned to face him, nose still scenting.
“I can smell something, otter or a squirrel or something,” Rivet said a couple of paces away from the rushes. He was about to step forward when the squirrel jumped forward and seized the pitiful rat by the throat.
“Of course you can smell otter you idiot,” The squirrel hissed, “We’re next to a river where otters live!” He raised his voice, causing the rat to flatten his ears and gape nervously. “As for squirrel, well guess what I am Rivet?”
Rivet spoke, raising a claw, “Scartail?” He tried and realized he was wrong by the apparent tightening of Scartail’s grip on his throat.
“I am a squirrel you fool! Of course you can smell squirrel, I am one, get it through your thick skull stupid!” The squirrel growled and pushed Rivet away, as if he was diseased, smirking when the rat over balanced and fell, face first onto the ground. He swaggered past Rivet, who spat out a mouthful of grass and kicked him in the side for good measure, before sheathing his curved dagger and kept on going, eyes scanning the scenery for life.
“I could really eat a squirrel or mouse right now, see if you can find me something to eat Rivet,” Scartail snarled at the rat that had just gained his footing again and stalked away, nearer to where Bracken and Samuel were hiding.
The otter and squirrel stood quietly, hidden by the low rushes, which had breaks in them allowing the pair to see out slightly. Their hearts pounded in their chests and Samuel began to shake uncontrollably as the scarred squirrel approached and passed, his horrible odour infiltrating their noses. The young squirrel held his breath at the smell, urging the rotten animal to keep going but much to their disdain Scartail stopped and sat down, a couple of paces away from their hiding place.
Bracken clung onto Samuel, watching the grey creature as it stretched out on its back, hands behind its disfigured head, warming its disgusting body in the heat of the sun. Samuel feeling as if his lungs were about to burst from holding his breath, exhaled a little too quickly, coughing suddenly. It wasn’t loud but it was enough to alert the thin squirrel, its ugly head turned slowly to face the pair which backed away as it growled and began crawling towards them, joints at odd bony angles and its thin tail swaying behind it.
Bracken looked around wildly, then grabbed the squirrel firmly by the shoulders and turned, pulling Samuel with her; she jumped and plunged into the river just as the bony squirrel tore the rushes apart with his claws, the one eyed rat close behind him. She went underwater holding her bewildered, panicked friend close to her. Using her powerful tail and swimming skills, she propelled through the water, ploughing upwards when she caught sight of Samuel running out of air by his thrashing about.
Scartail stood on the bank snarling furiously at his quarry as it surfaced a few metres away, the female otter dragging the squirrel through the water, strongly at first but then she began to get slower and slower. The disfigured squirrel licked his rotten teeth and turned to the rat, grabbing him by his tattered cloak as the rodent saw the water and tried to make a run for it.
“Get in there and get them now!” Scartail snarled, putrid breath washing over the rat, making him gag and retch. The squirrel merely grinned and threw the rat into the flowing water, brandishing his dagger in the direction of the two animals.
“I’ll get you and when I do, you’ll be sorry you were ever born!” He roared as the otter waved and swore at him cheekily, before turning her attention to the opposite bank, using her arm to help pull herself along in the water, Samuel kicking feebly in an attempt to aid their escape. Scartail tore his gaze away and looked down into the water, to where Rivet thrashed around in one place, going no where other then down as he fought against the deep water, unable to swim.
“Scartail, help me!” The rat shrieked as he surfaced again, splashing about, trying in vain to keep himself afloat, “I can’t swim HELP ME!” He wailed, terrified, eye wide as he swallowed water, going under once more.
The grey squirrel looked at him disgusted and gave a dry chuckle as the rat reached out towards him, getting closer as he latched onto a clump of plant material from the bank which had blown towards the water in the wind. He shrieked piteously as Scartail raised his weapon and cut the plant apart which Rivet was holding onto and went under again, chest heaving as water infiltrated his lungs, making his body heavy. He began to sink, choking and coughing under water, lungs full of water, suffocating him.
Scartail watched from the bank as the bubbles on top of the water slowly dwindled, “Stupid rat couldn’t even swim,” He growled and spotting the otter and squirrel on the getting nearer to the other side of the bank, stalked off, spitting on the grass. Oh if he ever came across those two again, he’d show them the meaning of pain, oh yes.
Bracken heaved Samuel up onto the far bank and lay on her back panting, wiping her face with a wet paw.
“Squirrels…are…not meant for…swimming,” She huffed and looked over to Samuel who sat, staring wide eyed out across the river. Curious, she sat up and followed his gaze, paws flying to her face in shock as she saw what he was looking at.
The rat who’d been with Scartail was floating face down in the water, the squirrel no where to be seen. His body sodden and bloated, swaying in the pull of the river before, coming to a stop a few feet away from where Bracken and Samuel sat…


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[Wolf]

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~4~News Spreads~4~

Thistle shook her head sadly as she listened to Bracken whom relayed the previous happenings to her mother in graphic detail again. She offered Samuel a home made biscuit and sat down at the earthen table, resting the plate of warm biscuits on top before leaning forward to hug both children. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing but did not doubt Bracken for a moment as nothing this horrifying could have been made up.
“Your mother is on her way over Samuel,” Thistle said, fiddling with her apron, hazel eyes filled with concern as she looked around the home, beneath a small overhanging cliff on the riverside. Plant matter covered the entrance, concealing it and she silently hoped no one would follow her husband and Mr Squirrel home as they returned from dealing with the drowned rat, Bracken had called ‘Rivet.’
Samuel nodded and looked at Bracken who shrugged, gazing at her mother, wondering what she was thinking. The silence was deafening and the young otter shifted in her seat, clearing her throat loudly which seemed to snap her mother out of the silence she’d fallen into. Thistle smiled, offering both children a biscuit for the fourth time which they politely declined…again and looked to the door as a shadowy figure appeared from beyond the entrance.
“Who’s there?” The older otter asked, trying to keep her voice steady as she rose to stand near Bracken and Samuel shielding them incase there was a threat.
She exhaled in relief as Samuel’s mother entered, bushy tail low in anxiety as she gazed about. The squirrel spotted her son and cried out before springing over to him and crushed him in a fierce hug; muttering and stroking his head, worry in her large brown eyes.
Thistle stood with her paw on Bracken’s shoulder and smiled at the reunion, knowing how Samuel’s mother felt. She squeezed her daughter’s shoulder before walking over to Fir, hugging her and offered her a biscuit, pointing to where the plate sat on the table. When Fir shook her head, Thistle merely smiled and walked over to the entrance of the den, leaning slightly as she parted the plants and stared out, looking around and scanning the area for anything unwanted or strange. She sighed as Fir came up behind her, paws together, anxiety in her eyes,
“I came as soon as I could, how can something like this happen and to some so young,” She said sadly, speaking in a whisper so that Bracken and Samuel couldn’t hear.
She followed Thistle’s gaze and sighed in relief as her husband appeared into view, struggling through the long grass by the river as he pulled something along behind him, Mr Otter helping as he huffed and pulled the dead weight to the entrance of the den, dropping it and clapped his paws together.
“Bracken, darling come here a minute,” Her father called, shielding the object from the view of the two mothers as they tried to see what was behind him. The otter took hold of his daughters paw and turned around, Samuel in pursuit as they gazed down at the thing.
One eye stared fearfully back, mouth open in shock, water trickling from the corners and tongue lolling out, the bloated body still, in the frame of death. His fur was tinged blue and the tattered cloak he wore about his neck lay soggy beneath his water logged body, folded in places and cutting into his neck.
The otter looked at Bracken who stared silently at the dead creature, then to Samuel who stood next to his father, orange fur pale.
“Is this the rat, Bracken?” Her father asked her quietly as the two mothers came up behind the four and gasped at the ghastly sight, paws at their mouths in horror.
“Yes that’s him, Rivet he’s called,” Bracken said, voice steady as she looked across at Samuel who nodded and walked slowly over to her,
“There’s another one,” Samuel said, shuddering at the thought of the filthy old squirrel, “He killed him,” The young squirrel said pointing at the rat, who’s fur blew in the wind, alive against its dead posture.
Long after the two families had gone back inside to discuss the recent happenings, a figure gave a low chuckle as he replaced the grass he’d been looking through, straggly, grey tail flicking idly; a snarl upon the creature’s scarred face.
“Oh yes I’ll get you yet, when you’re asleep, you won’t know what’s hit you until its too late and you lay dead like that stupid rat.” The animal grinned and bared his teeth before he turned and bounded away, bony arms jutting out at odd angles as he ran, thoughts of murder in his mind.