Planetfurry BBS

[Snowcat]

Well, this is an experiment in story writing for me. It's an old one and my new stuff is much better, if not quite ready for posting.
Since i wrote this, i've been busy re-writing the background to this universe, and there are quite a few important changes made to things.
In my latest incarnation, all the old characters are gone. I may have liked their personalities, but i hate the names and the fact that they were too... clean. They were too 2D and so, i've changed that whilst giving the characters flaws to keep them from being the ridiculously good people they were before.
The morphic beastraces now have names of their own along with a group name (Kaevern). I've now given each race it's own seperate identity and culture, and i'm even beginning to work on languages for them.
As for the overall story, well, I've dirtied it up a bit. Things were too... disney. too clean and cheerful despite the killing and death, and so i've made things a lot darker, far more brutal and with less hope shining through.
The Kaevern (in the latest version) have lost Sanctuary and no longer have a focused base of operations (or a ludicrously powerful fortress that no-one could hope to crack and so removing the thrat from the humans).
The humans themselves now have a distinctive technology base compared to the morphic kind. In addition to this, they pose a much larger threat, and have the upper hand (as opposed to the following version)
Despite all these changes, the basics of the universe remain the same.
Anyway. enough rambling and on with the story.
Snowcat



The Gathering Storm



Prologue:

The very earth trembled with the thunder of a hundred thousand feet stamping in unison, the air filled with the sound of their voices, all calling for their leader as they marched in regimented formations visible as far as the eye could see. Aircraft screamed overhead on tongues of crystal blue flame, their white contrails slashing across the darkening sky like the claws of some titanic beast of legend. The rhythmic beat of rotary winged aircraft echoed across the vast expanse occupied by the men and women dressed in their black and crimson wargear. The beat of the drum marched in time with the enormous war machines prowling the outskirts of the assembled rally.

As a single entity, the soldiers saluted a lonely figure that had appeared on a dais that towered above the earth below. Vast monitors projected the figure’s hooded visage as he strode solemnly to the edge of his platform, all silent and staring upwards in rapt attention. He raised a single hand in acknowledgement and a massive cheer rang out before silence once again took hold.

‘Brothers, Sisters! Our time is near!’ Applause echoed across the vast arena in which they had gathered.

‘For generations have the abominations made their way in this world unchecked. No more! We will purge these Godforsaken creatures from the face of this planet. We will stain the earth with their blood and we will cloud the sky with smoke from their burning funeral pyres! We have tolerated their presence here long enough! Our time has come to take back what is rightfully ours. For the glory of mankind!’ The roar of approval lasted for what seemed like an eternity to the robed figure standing on the dais. He licked his lips in satisfaction, his blood charged with adrenaline. He raised his hands to bring silence to his audience, revelling in the control that he exerted over them.

The sky split and lightning flashed as the hooded figure continued his fiery rhetoric, his passion and hatred seemingly supported by nature itself. Smiling to himself, the man turned from the dais and made his way into the shadows of the fortress from which he had made his declaration of war in a bloody xenophobic crusade.

‘That was almost believable Choran. But we both know why you truly espouse such hatred for the changed ones.’ A tall, powerful figure stepped from the shadow and into the pale light that remained from the storm raging outside.

‘Still, it serves our purposes. My masters will be here soon, and when they arrive, your deeds will be judged.’ The man smiled a thin, humourless smile.

‘And what of my men that are sacrificing their lives in this suicidal attack?’ asked Choran, turning to face the stranger.

‘They will do their duty of course, but for mankind to evolve, we must first set him back. In the same way that a forest flourishes after fire, so we must cull the human race to make way for better, stronger men that shall once more create a star-spanning empire as we once did.’

Choran snorted derisively. ‘Mankind is divided. Only through unity can we even hope to rival the achievements of the past and that is still nothing more than a distant dream.’

‘Perhaps. But you forget your place here. It is I that is in charge. You are just a tool with which to do my bidding. You would do well to remember that.’

Choran bowed sarcastically. ‘Yes. Master.’ His contempt was evident, yet he dared not counter the other man’s will. To do so would court death.

Which is precisely what these furred ones do by opposing us. He thought with a bitter smile.





Chapter 1:



Whitemane perched lightly on the front panel of a wyvern battle tank, its sleek curves softly reflecting the evening light as he idly polished one of his katanas with a delicate silk cloth. The large vehicle rested on the floor, its large landing skids locked into position with powerful hydraulic rams as the skimmer sat motionless. All around him, various morphs made their way around camp, eyes constantly alert for any sign of danger and all easy in confidence with their own abilities.

‘It couldn’t have happened any other way. To stay would have doomed our kind.’ Whitemane looked upwards in the direction of the voice, his ears locating the sound entirely in his subconscious.

‘It doesn’t make that decision any easier my young friend. My entire life, I have sought to unify our people and now I am the one to shatter that dream.’ The feline sighed heavily, his tail curling slowly.

‘That may be, but the people support your decision. We have many sympathisers within the white city that have sent support for our cause should we decide to try for a coup…’ Whitemane stared long and hard at his lupine friend, sapphire blue eyes burning brightly as he cut his friend off mid-sentence.

‘I will never do that Hrolf. I will not condone a course of action that will result in a dictatorship. That is why I left the military as a commanding officer. If the past has taught me anything, it is that absolute power corrupts absolutely. Even if you start out with the best intentions, you will eventually fall into the trap of abusing that power. I will not risk that.’ Hrolf nodded sagely, his shaggy mane of grey fur swaying softly with the motion.

‘I see what you are saying White’, but democracy will always fall into corruption, deception and betrayal. Every society in history that has thrived on democracy has eventually rotted internally, like a tree decaying from the inside, but showing no external signs of corruption.’ He paused slightly to let this sink in, watery grey eyes showing little emotion.

‘You must assume command of Sanctuary and lead our people. The three ‘morphic races are constantly locked in petty squabbling, but they will follow you. Only you can unite the three clans as you have done here,’ Hrolf made a sweeping gesture at the camp behind him with a heavily muscled arm. ‘These furs did not follow you all this way because they want war. Nor did they come here because they want revenge on the humans. They came here because they believe in you.’ Whitemane sighed, his shoulders slumping as he looked up at his friend.

‘That is the problem Hrolf. That is the problem.





‘But you can’t! Why her?’ desperation could be heard in Choran’s voice, his usually calm demeanour shattered by the revelation that he had just received.

‘Because, my dear Choran, we need someone within that damn fortress who is under our control and is unlikely to arouse suspicion. Better to have one of them than to try and infiltrate our own men. Besides, you know as well as I do that the humans within Sanctuary are kept under tight surveillance.’ Scythern sneered at the human that clung desperately to his long robes.

‘But why her? Why not some other child?’ tears could be seen welling in the Choran’s eyes as he pleaded to no avail. The pallid Scythern turned to look at the pitiful sight tugging his arm.

‘Why not her, why not make the ultimate sacrifice for the cause? After all, that is what is expected of you.’ A cruel smile graced his lips as he regarded Choran with utter contempt.

‘The decision has been made, and there’s nothing that can be done about it. She will be under our control within Sanctuary and will report to us whether she wants to or not. Our biomechanics have seen to that. Your daughter is dead now, there is only animal left in her.’ Without another word, the man swept off into the distance leaving Choran weeping into the hem of his robes, repeating the same phrase over and over again.

‘Aslani, forgive me.’





The soft smack of padded paws echoed through the pristine white marble hallway as a small group of figures strode purposefully towards a towering set of double doors, their vaulted arches reaching high into the air, giving an impression of ancient majesty. The vast oaken doors were inlaid with intricate patterns of precious metals and jewels creating a gaudy display of magnificent beauty. The detail was a marvel of engineering, with ancient battles and scenes of importance depicted in astounding accuracy. As the group approached the doorway, a pair of vast obsidian feline gargoyles sat sentinel to the entrance, their ruby red eyes glaring balefully at the approaching entourage from their panther-like forms.

Without breaking his stride, the lead figure bust through the doors, their perfectly balanced hinges providing little resistance as the slammed open with a resounding boom. The lion marched forward, his gait purposeful and unforgiving, his golden fur gleaming in the light that lanced through the crystalline dome perched high above the stunned occupants.

Sat silently around a magnificent round table, the gathered morphs turned to face the intruder, their indignation evident in their scent, their tails all twitching in frustrated agitation. There were three groups gathered around the centre table, behind each was a door, and each as ornate and individual as the group that sat with their backs to it. Six guardian creatures perched in leering readiness behind the various groups, two wolves, two vulpines and two felines, each trying to outdo the next in magnificence just like the doors that they guarded.

Failing to slow until he reached the table, the feline left his honour guard behind at the door as he slammed a large file on the table, shaking the hall with a roll of thunder amplified by the circular architecture. Through the crystal ceiling, the pale blue sky could be seen as the moon shone high above in the evening light, the glint of satellites trailing past going unnoticed as all eyes faced the stranger.

‘Do you realise what you have done by exiling the Ancient?’ Anger burned in the lion’s throat as his voice reverberated around the chamber.

‘Nearly half of our already meagre forces have handed in their resignation from the military and have, en-masse, rallied beneath his banner. The humans are in an uproar over this and he now launches regular raids into human cities and makes incursions into NEC territory. Whitemane must be stopped and soon,’ the lion’s massive paw slammed down on the table causing it to rock slightly under the weight of the impact.

‘Or we face the humans taking far more direct action against us. We must move quickly and silently, the people support his actions proclaiming him as the only morph who upholds ‘true values’. He is a danger to the very stability of Sanctuary and what has been built here. His continued survival is a direct challenge to your control. He must be stopped or we will face a civil war which I fear we cannot recover from.’





Aslani screamed in anger as she struggled against her bonds. Tears trickled down her cheeks in both frustration and betrayal as she fought in vain to escape her tormenters. Sweat covered her body as it contorted, gradually changing its shape and betraying itself. Her human form was gradually mutating at the most base level, reforming into something both at the same time more and less than human. Her entire body was covered with a fine golden down that made her skin feel as if it were burning and a long, slender tail had started extruding itself from the base of her spine sending agony lancing the length of her body as new tissue grew and stretched at an alarming rate, accelerated by the drugs used to induce the changes within her. There was nothing anyone could do now. The virus had taken a hold of her body and nothing could stop it until it had completely run its course.

Hatred burned in her heart now, a desperation born of an animal rage that was emerging within her. It was two days since she had first felt the fever take her in its grasp. Now, whenever she tried shouting at one of the cameras that watched her unblinkingly, all that came out was a feral snarl, something that both thrilled and disgusted her. She struggled again, but her steel bindings held her firmly despite the changes in her anatomy. She felt a pinprick on her neck and darkness rapidly took her.





The dropship sped through the valley, mere meters off the cold earth below. Ragnar watched in fascination as the ground blurred past and resisted the urge to stick his head out of the open doorway. That’d be one hell of a stupid way to go. Thought the lupine, grinning to himself as he placed his natural instincts under control. He had seen in happen before with even experienced soldiers. Just a slight lapse in attention and wham. You’ve snapped your neck.

Looking around the small task force, he felt reassured with the easy confidence at which they carried themselves and was proud to note that their scent lacked the telltale signs of excitement and nervousness that rookies displayed. Almost entirely consisting of lupines, the one exception was a lithe lioness who lay back in her seat, eyes closed and tail twitching slightly. Ragnar smiled as he remembered the first time he had been with her on a mission. First time out after her training and I get dumped with her after Hrolf had been moved on. She was just a child then, but she grew up quickly and survived where many did not. The black wolf felt a growl rise in his throat as he remembered the furs that he had lost on that mission. He noticed the scent of his team changed in reaction to his own and fought to calm himself again.

The red light by the doorway blinked on and the lights in the cabin were turned off as everyone readied themselves. By now, the small transport had crossed the horizon and was swallowed by darkness. Holding up all five digits on his left forepaw, Ragnar indicated the five minute mark and the gunship slowed to a more stealthy speed as the troops made final checks on their equipment.

There was a distinct whine as the chain guns began warming up. We’re going in hot. With a simple paw gesture, the wolf moved to the doorway in a crouch, rifle held at the ready. So it begins.


p.s. Please be brutal and honest with your opinions, but remain constructive.
p.p.s. Sorry about the lack of itallics in places. I didn't have time to sift through >.<

[Chris Regan]

Snowcat if your prologue is and example of the rest of the story wow!

The prologue pulls you in to the action. Have you ever thought of putting it up on the Raccoon's Booshelf?


Bright Blessing,
Chris