| Subject: My story...been planning it for a while... |
Author:
Peppy
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Date Posted: 09:14:21 06/04/04 Fri
This is just the prologue. It's not very long, and kinda rushed. You could say it's the biggest event in the life of Peppy, and only his name has been kept the same on the side of good...most of them are, of course, made up. sorry if you have difficulty reading my bad attempt at writing bad french accents. Critcism both accepted and wanted.
Prologue
The mountain was awash with silence that day. Smoke was wreathed around the base, smoke from the charred remains of a once bustling village. The ocean constantly searched what land it could reach for the bodies of any beast it had not already claimed. But apart from the few who fled into the depths and drowned or were pulled far out by currents, none were left to its whims.
Away from the village, a larger fire burned. Sentryrats stood around it, posted to prevent the fire from spreading to the queen’s orchard. Some of the younger rats were almost overcome by the stench, but the older ones had adjusted over their lives to the smell. The smell of burning corpses.
The queen lay inside her personal caravan. The caravan was so densely covered with curtains that very little light could get in. But smells found their way in with ease. She coveted the darkness, and relished the foul reek of death and decay. She smiled each time a fresh wave of the fire smell hit her. She loved not only this destruction, but also what she would do afterwards.
A life of living in darkness had adjusted her eyes well. Even in the darkest room she would be able to pick up the slightest trace of light. But her ability was almost wasted: she never left her caravan unless the space outside was just as dark. However, she used the minimal sight in her caravan for quite grotesque purposes. She decorated the space inside with the heads of her most powerful enemies.
A voice echoed from outside the caravan. ‘Majesty, ze night ees oncoomink. Ve had best leav noo shood ye veesh to be ‘ome afore eet ees dark.’
Queen Penumbrahad not seen the faces of any of her followers. Nonetheless, she recognised the voice of them instantly. ‘Oof course, Antimony. Ve shall leav instantly.’
Within moments, the caravan began moving, pulled forth by four weasels on each leading rod. Antimony spoke again. ‘Majesty, ze search party ‘as returned. Zay ‘ave foond ze tracks of two of ze village meese, leadink into ze desert. Do you veesh for anysink to be doon?’
‘Yees, Antimony. Send oof Marleck and Cris. Zay are to follow oontil ze meese die. But zay are noot to attack. Ze same goes foor all rooners. Zay vill die deep in ze desert. Slooly and painfully.’
Antimony held off replying for a moment, to ensure Penumbra was finished so as not to interrupt her. ‘As you veesh, lady.’ He pointed to the two rats the queen had called. ‘Marleck, Cris, follow ze rooners. Do noot tooch zem, boot make soore zay perish in ze sands, and bring ze queen back ze ‘eads.’ Marleck and Cris trotted steadily down the mountain, whilst the caravan and the others who had assailed the village scaled the mountain, towards their home, Fort Sinistral.
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