[Mkguild] Story submission - 2nd draft
Prof
profs_desk at yahoo.de
Thu Mar 11 15:52:06 UTC 2010
Greetings,
dear Keepers!
I found some time to overwork the draft of my story a little and it should now
be better readable.
Also, I
added the WIP of Part 2.
Currently I
have the problem that I plan of Mark and Hiram running into a patrol shortly
after. I’d like to use some already existing characters from the Keep. Are
there any suggestions from your side, who this could be?
Sincerely
Prof
Start with an empty sheet
… And load it with words. That should be my approach in writing down
what happened, he advised me. Well, let’s go.
I had no idea, where I was or how I came there.
It took me not much time to realize that I knew almost nothing. Not
about this strange place, which was different from the one I’ve fallen asleep at
(somehow I was sure about that), nor about the time before I awakened. Or about
myself, even my name.
A blank slate was I.
And I wasn’t afraid. It’s hard to remember now, if I felt anything at
all, besides a slight curiosity for my situation. I guess the shock locked out
confusion and fear for a time.
Looking down on me I noticed that I was naked.
No, this word felt wrong. I rummaged in the corners of my brain for a
better suiting description. You know, “naked” is a rather relative concept if
your entire body is covered in thick, lush fur. Heh, even the naughty bits were
either wrapped in fur or hidden in a furry pouch.
Well, that was different! And
finally there was a little morsel of
information left in my mind. When I thought about my person, I connected it
immediately to the word “human”. Humans have no fur. Or four-toed, digitigrade
feet… or a tail!
Several times I tried to catch this formerly unknown appendage of my body,
which dodged my grasp whenever I turned around to get it. I Circled round and
round like a humming top, must have been looked like a kitten. Shortly after,
my folly became clear to me and I had to laugh out loud, as I must right now,
writing this lines.
My voice startled me. It was deep and husky and noisy. I’ve never been
that loud, wasn’t I? More like the tone
of a bully, a kind of guy I surely was not! So I decided to keep silent for a
while.
More important to me at that moment was the swishing tail, annoying in
its elusiveness. I reached behind me and managed to grab it. The next moment a
sharp pain made me yowl and let it go, quickly.
With astonishment I gazed at my hands. Oh, how in the world could I
overlook the fact that they were hands no more? They were paws! Covered in fur
like the rest of me, except of pink pads on the fingertips and the palms.
“A fist full of thumps”, was my first impression. Like my thumb each
finger (still counting five with the thumb, unlike my toes) had only two
phalanxes. The third one was missing. And as a kind of compensation, every tip
was crowned with a needle-sharp, curved claw.
Just a moment ago I’ve had learned that it was quite painful to get hit
by them. Now they were retreating back into the folds on my fingertips, which
hid them.
It took me some minutes to bring them back. Obviously my body knew how
to let them emerge. As obvious as I did not.
Like with my tail, there were muscles and tendons I certainly never used
in my life before. My body seemed no to care much about it. He used them
without trouble whenever I paid not enough attention.
Clearly he had a big advantage over my still human self.
*****
I wasn’t human anymore. But what was I? Some kind of animal? A
two-legged animal?
Such creature was unheard of in my memory, although I could not even
remember someone calling my name. In this case my mind was not the best expert
to consult about. Tail and clawed paws said “feline”, but I had to know for
sure.
I took a look around, examining my surroundings a little better than I
did with my first glance.
I stood in a clearing in a wood. It was shortly after sunrise, but the
air was already warm. It felt like summer and the leaves on the trees told me
the same. On my right side, some steps away from me were a pond, his surface
untroubled for there was not the slightest breeze.
Water, the oldest mirror in history. Suddenly I was reluctant. This was
the moment of truth. Now I was
afraid. Would I like what I was about to see?
My mouth was dry; I had to gulp twice to re-moisten it. My tail twitched
in sympathy with my mood and my ears, too high on my head than I was used to,
had flattened themselves against my skull.
Then I straightened myself as good as I was able to. The view of the
water had made me thirsty, very. The decision was not really mine. Again, my
body showed me who was in charge yet.
I kneeled down on the shore and with both paws; I poured the
crystal-clear, cool liquid and swallowed it greedy. For a moment I was overcome
with the urge to lap it up with my tongue, but I resisted this primal drive and
drank the human way, although I spilled most of the water.
Again I was not used to the changes on me. If a simple act like drinking
turned out that difficult, how would it be to actually eat something with my
new mouth, no, my new muzzle?
Scooping something to drink had broken the smooth surface of the pond
with dozens of diminutive ripples. I’ve had gotten myself some moments of
delay. But now the water turned back to its old, mirroring self.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Then I bent a little closer
down to my mirror and eventually stared into the face of my new self.
*****
A cat stared back. He was adorned with silvery-grey fur, speckled with
black spots. Almost his entire body looked like this, excluding an area,
starting from his chin, running over his cheeks, then down on the front of his
neck, over his chest, the stomach, crotch and ending on the insides of his
thighs. Which was creamy-white. (Of course I didn’t seen all of this in the
water. My reflection contained little more than my face and upper chest. The
rest I knew of already.)
It looked soft and fluffy, but somewhat monochrome. The only safe havens
for colour were a triangular pink nose and yellow-brown eyes, which carried a look
of wonder.
It was the face of a leopard, a snow-leopard, to be precise. Where I did
knew this? Well, I still knew the sun was called sun. I’ve had not forgotten
everything.
A movement on top of his head caught my attention. His ears, as I could
see now, who were triangular with round tips, raised from the ground, mirroring
my equally rising state of mood.
His black lips twisted into an awkward expression, remotely resembling a
smile. His whiskers twitched in embarrassment. Human impulses collided with a
feline face, which was not made to express emotions in a human way. He gave up
his fruitless efforts for it was obvious that he smiled in a feline way. The
position of his ears told this to everyone who could understand it.
Then he opened his mouth. “Could be worse”, he said with this booming
voice, which now sounded a lot more pleasant in my ears. “To be honest, I think
you’re a good looking one.”
Hearing this, I had to laugh. Well, if he said so.
At least my style of speaking and laughing was still human. The thought
was really comforting. I waved the cat in the water good bye and stood up.
*****
So far, so… weird. I was a snow cat, in the middle of a summery wood.
What now?
I definitely couldn’t stay on the clearing. Although there was good
water, I couldn’t see anything to eat or a shelter from not so friendly
weather. And beside that, I had to find help.
Help to change back to my real, my human identity, to get back my lost
memories and not furthermost, to get some clothes.
Don’t get me wrong, in my current state I didn’t felt nude but, as
strange as it may sound, also not modest! A cloth to wrap it around my waist
would have done the job.
I had to get back to civilisation.
Where should I go to, which direction?
The visible part of the sky refused to give me any hints. No trails of
smoke, no sign of a sentient being.
Rather helpless I circled the borders of the clearing and finally found
a narrow path, descending into the undergrowth, probably only used by game,
heading for the pond. But it was better than nothing. So I let it lead the way.
I had followed the path between the trees for about half an hour, as
something moved into the thicket and another something in me took over. Within a heartbeat I crossed the ten foot distance
between my position and the moving object and pounced.
My target, which was, as I could see now, a mouse, avoided my paw by a
hairs breath and vanished into its hole.
I crouched down and breathed hard. Not because of the sudden movement,
it was the stimulation that cursed through my veins, the excitement of hunting.
It was that moment I discovered the supple, powerful muscles beneath my
fur. And the simple joy of using them. Man, I felt great at this moment! I had
to use them more.
The next few hours were a haze. I ceased thinking, I plainly did. I run,
I climbed trees, stalked small animals, jumped and tumbled around and did
plenty of silly things I’m slightly embarrassed, now thinking about it. I
tested the boundaries of the beast that was currently me.
Eventually I slowed down. Reason returned from its unexpected vacation
and took its place on the bridge back.
I breathed long and deep, savouring the plethora of fragrant odours. Unquestionably
I would miss my heightened sense of smell when I was a human again. With a
childlike sparkle in my eyes I took a picture of the environment. It seemed
like I was in a deeper part of the forest now. And…
Utterly and completely lost.
*****
On second thought, I’ve been lost beforehand and I was it now. No change
in my situation. Excluding the pond.
I was parched again. And tired and hungry. My undertakings in hunting
weren’t crowned with success by now. Besides, the mere thought of raw, bloody
meat wasn’t a very appealing one. –At least until now.
Suddenly I felt very lonely. You could say I fell into an emotional
hole. Questions beset me, the sorts of I was able to avoid since my awakening.
What in the world could possibly happen to me? Why was I alone and in my
birthday suit in the middle of a forest?
What if someone brought me to that clearing and left me there? You
abandon someone you don’t want so see again. Let him die out there, where you
not have to witness the miserable part.
I had not much trouble to come up with a reason. A glance to my paws was
enough. My condition wasn’t natural, it practically reeked of magic and curses
and all kinds of evil doings. Probably I was lucky to still being alive.
And what if I did it myself?
Either as a refugee, running for my life or, and that was the really
frightening consideration, I’ve came to this place to end my cursed existence
by my own hands.
What if, what if, what if…
So absorbed was I that I paid no attention where my feet carried me. I
didn’t even take notice of the stranger I passed, merely 3 steps away from me.
I believe I baffled him a lot with my ignorance. Imagining the scene
from his view, it must have looked like some weird dream.
Then the stranger let loose a sharp whistle, bringing me back to
reality, and cried: “Attention, dreamer!”
I circled around to face him, and could do nothing but stare,
dumbfounded.
My unexpected company, whom I gave a facial expression of the blankest
sort, was a fennec!
Like me, he stood straight on two legs, had paw-like hands, a tail and
walked on his toes. He was about my size, maybe a little shorter (later I
measured myself with five feet and six inches). Rather slim built, compared to
me there wasn’t much of him. I had about one and a half of his weight. Nevertheless,
something told me, this little guy could shred me to pieces without breaking a
sweat.
His face was dominated by big, watchfully brown eyes and huge ears. And his fur, as far as I
could see it, had the colour of sand.
As far as I could see, yes. There was that vast difference between us: I
was only in my fur and he was not.
He was clad in a sleeve-less tunic and shorts, both garments had a dark
green colour. A woven leather belt around his waist held several little bags, a
knife and a short sword, his right paw not far away from the hilt. A quiver
full of yellow-feathered arrows was strapped on his back and the appertaining
bow, a remarkable weapon, as tall as his owner, leaned on a tree near him. And
of course no footwear, not with such feet.
Seconds of silence went by. I could not move, nor speak or think. The
mechanisms of my mind were jammed. That was too much.
After some time, in which I could see his growing confusion, he asked
me: “Do you understand me?” And after the passing of a couple more moments, he
repeated the question in another language I knew and two I did not.
Somehow I was capable to break free from my stupor. I shook my head and
murmured: “Y-yeah, yes, I understand you.” Then, after a gulp of air and with a
tad more power, I added: “Who are you?” And bit my lip to avoid the mandatory:
“What are you?”
It showed now, that the stranger’s vulpine face was better suited to convey
human emotions. He smiled with his lips. It was mostly amused, but with a hint
of forbearingness. I was seen through.
“My name is Hiram. I’m a part-time hunter, full-time fox-morph and
inhabitant of Metamor Keep. And may I learn your name?”
Oh boy, there was it, the dreaded question. I shrugged. “Call me
Dreamer.”
Not quite the end yet…
*****
Part II
„Richard, Kaplan, Wayne, Adam, Dan, Carl, Egon, Peter, Ray, Winston…”
“Enough Hiram, please. My head’s pounding.”
I had to stop the continuous flood of names and names and names, the
seemingly inexhaustible fennec feed me since me made stop for rest. I sat
slumped down against a tree trunk, eyes closed. It was a good deal after noon
and the temperatures still rising, high enough to make me uncomfortable under
my thick pelt.
I was hungry for something real.
“No luck so far?” His voice came from somewhere above me. I looked up
and spotted him in the crown of an oak, where he retrieved a backpack. “Nothing
that sounds familiar?”
I shook my head. “No bell’s ringing. Let’s just settle for Mark.”
My new friend jumped back to the leaf-covered ground and opened the bag.
Rummaging through it he asked: “Is there a special reason for that?”
A frustrated hiss escaped my muzzle. “No, to me it doesn’t feel more
known than Edgar, Hassan, OIaf, Cabracan – seriously Hiram, Cabracan? – Or
Xiao. I simply like it.
Grumbly I added: “Besides, Dreamer sounds kinda lofty, now as I think
about it.”
The fennec made no attempt to conceal his giggle. Finally finished with
his expedition through the depths of his backpack, he tossed me a water skin
and something wrapped in wax paper which smells made me swim in drool.
“Your decision. Then it’s Mark Dreamer for the moment. Plus any
nicknames me or any of my friends come up with”, he declared.
My reply was something muffled, mouth full with dried meat.
His smile grew sardonic. “And I don’t believe it will take long for you
to get the first one, ‘Stripper’.”
His gentle laughter drowned my very eloquent “Hey!” He lifted his paws in
defence. “I’m just teasing you, sorry. But the problem’s still present. We need
something to cover you. Couldn’t let the ladies see you like this, all in the
buff. Lessee…”
And again his arms dived into the bag. “Too bad I didn’t bring some
spare duds.”
“Lucky me”, I remarked dryly, after a glimpse at his narrow hips. “I
would die by suffocation, but modest at least.”
It’s almost a dramatic view, watching the tremendous ears of a fennec
fall back. “Touché”, Hiram said. “I think I deserved this one”, with these
words he threw me another bundle.
Let’s say I was, uhm, slightly puzzled after I unfolded it.
“A towel?”
“Big enough to swathe even your waist in it.”
“You don’t have a spare of clothes but a towel?”
He shrugged. “You never know.”
Eventually the absurdity of this situation brought a smile to me. And as
I was busy covering my bareness, my talkative companion did his best to fill
the silence.
“You know, a skirt…” “Kilt!” I demanded
“You know, a… kilt”, he chuckled “Has its merits, especially for you, in
this conditions.”
On my clueless look he added:
“Better ventilation.”
My expression must’ve been priceless. First he started to giggle, then
me too. That went on for some minutes, every time one of us got his senses back
together; the giggles of the other incinerated the fit anew.
Oh man, it did me a great deal to laugh.
To be honest, Hiram had a point. Even my impromptu-kilt was almost too
much for me in the summery heat. A properly pair of trousers would certainly
set me ablaze.
__________________________________________________
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