{ "submission_id": "3199186", "keywords": [ { "keyword_id": "4747", "keyword_name": "beaver", "contributed": "f", "submissions_count": "4188" }, { "keyword_id": "360", "keyword_name": "bird", "contributed": "f", "submissions_count": "38856" }, { "keyword_id": "60", "keyword_name": "cat", "contributed": "f", "submissions_count": "217123" }, { "keyword_id": "14608", "keyword_name": "court", "contributed": "f", "submissions_count": "158" }, { "keyword_id": "3", "keyword_name": "dog", "contributed": "f", "submissions_count": "175577" }, { "keyword_id": "123", "keyword_name": "female", "contributed": "f", "submissions_count": "1103554" }, { "keyword_id": "165", "keyword_name": "male", "contributed": "f", "submissions_count": "1214054" }, { "keyword_id": "837", "keyword_name": "monster", "contributed": "f", "submissions_count": "25942" }, { "keyword_id": "420", "keyword_name": "mouse", "contributed": "f", "submissions_count": "54725" }, { "keyword_id": "26856", "keyword_name": "raid", "contributed": "f", "submissions_count": "51" }, { "keyword_id": "452", "keyword_name": "rat", "contributed": "f", "submissions_count": "23840" }, { "keyword_id": "5227", "keyword_name": "sailor", "contributed": "f", "submissions_count": "718" }, { "keyword_id": "1170", "keyword_name": "snake", "contributed": "f", "submissions_count": "18750" }, { "keyword_id": "1916", "keyword_name": "swords", "contributed": "f", "submissions_count": "977" }, { "keyword_id": "16970", "keyword_name": "viking", "contributed": "f", "submissions_count": "379" } ], "hidden": "f", "scraps": "f", "favorite": "f", "favorites_count": "2", "create_datetime": "2023-12-14 14:04:59.524872+00", "create_datetime_usertime": "14 Dec 2023 15:04 CET", "last_file_update_datetime": "2023-12-14 13:55:16.628684+00", "last_file_update_datetime_usertime": "14 Dec 2023 14:55 CET", "username": "dfeyder", "user_id": "200255", "user_icon_file_name": "278267_dfeyder_pux_tatsu_ref-sfw.png", "user_icon_url_large": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/usericons/large/278/278267_dfeyder_pux_tatsu_ref-sfw.png", "user_icon_url_medium": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/usericons/medium/278/278267_dfeyder_pux_tatsu_ref-sfw.png", "user_icon_url_small": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/usericons/small/278/278267_dfeyder_pux_tatsu_ref-sfw.png", "file_name": "4814127_dfeyder_blood_and_fire_cover.png", "file_url_full": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/files/full/4814/4814127_dfeyder_blood_and_fire_cover.png", "file_url_screen": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/files/screen/4814/4814127_dfeyder_blood_and_fire_cover.png", "file_url_preview": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/files/preview/4814/4814127_dfeyder_blood_and_fire_cover.jpg", "thumbnail_url_huge_noncustom": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/files/preview/4814/4814127_dfeyder_blood_and_fire_cover.jpg", "thumbnail_url_large_noncustom": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/large/4814/4814127_dfeyder_blood_and_fire_cover_noncustom.jpg", "thumbnail_url_medium_noncustom": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/medium/4814/4814127_dfeyder_blood_and_fire_cover_noncustom.jpg", "thumb_medium_noncustom_x": "96", "thumb_medium_noncustom_y": "120", "thumb_large_noncustom_x": "160", "thumb_large_noncustom_y": "200", "thumb_huge_noncustom_x": "240", "thumb_huge_noncustom_y": "300", "files": [ { "file_id": "4814127", "file_name": "4814127_dfeyder_blood_and_fire_cover.png", "file_url_full": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/files/full/4814/4814127_dfeyder_blood_and_fire_cover.png", "file_url_screen": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/files/screen/4814/4814127_dfeyder_blood_and_fire_cover.png", "file_url_preview": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/files/preview/4814/4814127_dfeyder_blood_and_fire_cover.jpg", "mimetype": "image/png", "submission_id": "3199186", "user_id": "200255", "submission_file_order": "0", "full_size_x": "2000", "full_size_y": "2500", "screen_size_x": "920", "screen_size_y": "1150", "preview_size_x": "240", "preview_size_y": "300", "initial_file_md5": "77e6e529c74145bea9d8d442f2adee72", "full_file_md5": "4fe29ddf3ef5f60bc981dce5ef3c3ace", "large_file_md5": "3316b9806e7f0ad54bc0251bbc85e794", "small_file_md5": "1781baba75fc1aaf01258923ec9f4843", "thumbnail_md5": "a290b4fbd129e3aba4c82756ec18f3da", "deleted": "f", "create_datetime": "2023-12-14 13:55:16.628684+00", "create_datetime_usertime": "14 Dec 2023 14:55 CET", "thumbnail_url_huge_noncustom": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/files/preview/4814/4814127_dfeyder_blood_and_fire_cover.jpg", "thumbnail_url_large_noncustom": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/large/4814/4814127_dfeyder_blood_and_fire_cover_noncustom.jpg", "thumbnail_url_medium_noncustom": "https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/medium/4814/4814127_dfeyder_blood_and_fire_cover_noncustom.jpg", "thumb_medium_noncustom_x": "96", "thumb_medium_noncustom_y": "120", "thumb_large_noncustom_x": "160", "thumb_large_noncustom_y": "200", "thumb_huge_noncustom_x": "240", "thumb_huge_noncustom_y": "300" } ], "pools": [], "description": "\nFree preview of upcoming project.", "description_bbcode_parsed": "
Free preview of upcoming project.", "writing": "Chapter 1\nIcy water roars. A lonely ship is thrown along the waves—a ship with a dragon mast, and a tall sail, blue in color, bearing the emblem of a raven with a shield in one claw and a hammer in the other. It is a ship from the Elderkit family. Standing at the mast is a young cat with thick braided hair and long whiskers that droop low, weaved into tails that grow down his face. It is Owogon The Traveler with sword in hand, Son of Yorg, the Marshal Cat. By Owogon’s side are his twin brothers, Dynus and Frommoorn. At their backs are two dozen godless cats.\nA lighthouse on a hill is only a dozen leagues away, the town of Elsewere just beyond that. The town and the lighthouse are rightfully the property of Owogon’s family, but have fallen under the rule of rats. \nThe ship gains shore and the cats don armor, swords, axes, and hammers. Owogon holds up his sword and calls to his heathen army, “Raze them to the ground!” The cats cheer; “We know not fear, nor defeat! They will know that their gods have left them when they see our flags! Blood and fire!”\nThe cats cheer A blood boiling howl and march up the ice and snow. Teeth and ambition bear. Sabers rattle, axes and hammers are thrown into the air. Owogon points to the lighthouse. Rats quake with fear at the burning eyes of the godless army. Soon blood and darkness will take them. The Great Heathen Army has come!\nThe last three summers had been abnormally warm. Song balladeers and riddle sayers have dreamed up stories about how this explains the appearance of the cats. \nThe first people to see the heathen cats, it is told, had been monks living in an abbey on the Athereon river. It was three thousand years ago the cats had climbed the mountain of Elsewere; never to be seen again. \nBut now, today, the cats are back. It is the sixty-sixth year of the eighth age. For two centuries the Dogs of Celt have ruled the land. Today, it is three siblings that share the thrones of power: Arthur the Strong named after the Athereon river; Merlin the Innocent—the elder of the two brothers; and Margret the Accuser—the oldest and bravest of the dogs.\nAs the army of cats had descended the slopes of their high mountain, the first thing they had done was attack houses of worship up and down the rivers. The cats are demons, sent to earth to test the faith of dogs.\nAn allegiance was formed. Three families, once broken, have sworn an oath to protect the seat of power. To protect the church; the faith. The dogs will build a wall to stop the swarming of the cats. If the dogs fail, the armies of darkness will hold sway over the world for untold eras. The eighth age will have ended and no one will remember the noble sacrifices the dogs have made. That is the story being spun today. \n“War!” Owogon cries. \nDynus and Frommoorn hold up their tools of war, waving the army of cats to march. The lighthouse swarms with rats. The rats ready bows. \n“Shields!” Owogon demands. Half the cats place their shields before them and march. The shields form a horseshoe cage around them, making attack from in front all but impossible. Arrows fly, but the steel of the cats does not give. \nRats are frightful foes to fight; deadly cunning, devilish ingenuity—trickery is a rats most fiendish weapon. But in hand-to-hand combat their tools become limited. Pitted against steel forged by cats, rat arrows are like straw; bronze knives are like rotting wood. \nOwogon proves his courage. With a wave of his hand a dozen and a half cats storm the gates. The walls fall under the blades of the cats. \nCanary with the Three Blades is the leader of this pack of rats. He is a privateer and a profiteer, happily selling his bravery to anyone willing to pay his price. His coming to this ancient fire-watch was a plot by a minor dog lord to try and expand his influence. \nSurrounded by stolen silver and artwork plundered from churches up and down the coast, Canary stands at the door of the tower watching as the cats set fire to the surrounding village. Canary whispers to himself, “Demons have come to claim my soul. Davy Jones is coming for me.” He runs a hand up and down his chest drawing a holy emblem into his fur. \nThis conflict between families of dogs means nothing to Owogon. He knows nothing of this rat; Owogon is his father’s avenger, nothing more—and this town is simply the next stop on a checklist of villages that must be sacked. \nThe cat points at the rat; the rat staggers backwards into the fortification. He draws a sword in one hand, a knife in the other, and picks up a spear with his tail, readying himself for battle. The mighty Owogon grins, blood dripping from his fangs. \nA rat jumps at Owogon from the left, another from the right—Owogon disregards the attack. With a swing of his arm the rats are flung to the ground. The mighty hero of the cats charges the door of the fort to meet the commander in hand-to-hand combat. \nRats are tricksters by nature--and Canary is no different. As the cat approaches the rat takes a moment to examine his vest and jacket, making sure he has his vials of burning gas, maggot eggs, stink powders and blood thinning nectar. The rat laces his blades with poisons—if he can’t kill the cat with the first slash of his knife, the cat will die slowly.\nCanary gains his footing and rushes the cat. He takes a spinning slash from the left, then turns to lash out with his tail from the right. Owogon holds an arm forward to interrupt the first two slashes, then swings his axe down to cut the tip off Canary’s tail. A back fist from the cat then sends the rat toppling into the ground. Owogon holds out his arms, challenging the rat to keep fighting.\nCanary places one of his knives on the ground. He stands up and strikes a duelist pose. Owogon drops his sword and holds his axe front handed, mimicking Canary’s stance. Canary leans into a thrust, Owogon pivots to grab Canary’s arm and then reverses momentum into a hip throw. Owogon laughs at the rat. “You are brave, but you are not a cat.”\nAs he struggles to get back to his feet, the rat replies, “Lamento dizer que não consigo entendê-lo.”\nOwogon spins his blade and holds it overhead ready to strike down the rat. Canary pulls from his pocket a fistful of red dust, throwing it at the cat. A burning cloud of vapor forms before Owogon, momentarily making him blind and dizzy. Canary runs off, searching for a place to hide. He is unlikely to be able to defeat Owogon in single combat. He needs more men and more swords. He will seek out Margret the Accuser. If the dogs want this town, they will need to help take it back.\nBy midday, there are no rats left to be found. The lighthouse is now Owogon’s once more.\nOwogon finds a chalice on a table in the church. He dips it in the baptismal fountain and pours the water over his head, then washes his face in the holy water. Then he takes a drink. Dynus walks through the door of the church calling to the eldest of his siblings. “One vertical line, three horizontal lines. This symbol is painted on the door of just about every house in this town. What is it?”\nAfter a long drink, Owogon gasps and pants once. “Local mythology. It is the name of a colossus, written in the tongue of Lupon. Our family once had stories about giants, also. But, we killed our gods. The dogs in this country offer sacrifices instead.” He turns to face his brother. “Dogs will happily bow and pray. Cats do not kneel.”\nA chirping calls to the three brothers. “The word is Hammurapi. The emblem is made up of four parts. One long line, which can be read as ‘time’ or ‘civilization,’ then there are the three components: ‘faith’, ‘law’, and ‘retribution.” \nFrommoorn shouts into the darkening church, “Who speaks!”\nThe chirp calls back, “My name is Nin.”\nThe brothers each kick down a door in the church, searching for the man called Nin. Owogon is the one to find him hidden behind a curtain, and down a flight of steps. Nin’s a bird with green, yellow, and blue feathers sitting in a cage swinging from the ceiling. A dozen dead bodies pepper the floor. \nOwogon calls out, “Nin?”\nThe bird nods his head. “I am.”\nOwogon asks, “And why, per say, have the rats found need to lock you in a cage?”\nNin shakes his head. “Not rats; dogs. On tithing day I did not have enough coin to satisfy the bishop, so; fifteen days in a cage I do would pay.”\nOwogon snaps his fingers and waves Frommoorn forward. “Open the cage.”\nFrommoorn does as instructed. He grabs the bars of the cage and roars. His chest bulges and his muscles flair. The giant cat rips the bars from the cage, bending and flexing the metal with his heroic power. The cat sweats. He grins and laughs, having had the opportunity to demonstrate his might.\nThe three brothers represent one characteristic each of what cats see as heroic. Frommoorn is of prestigious bulk. His arms are huge, his chest is rippling, his hair long and flowing. He has carved his body into the shape of a primal beast. \nDynus is the second of the trifecta. He is tall and slim and has long claws and long ears. He has a dexterous tail and can run, jump, and swim better than any other cat alive.\nThat leaves Owogon as the last corner. Owogon can sing and read. Owogon knows poetry. He can see things others cannot, and he can sway the hearts and minds of any that hear his voice. Elderkit, is what people call the brothers. Wisdom, courage, and strength. They are what every cat wishes to be.\nNin bows before Owogon. Owogon grabs the bird and forces him to his feet. “I did not ask you to kneel.”\nNin lowers his eyes. “I believe I owe you, cat. What can I do to repay your kindness to me?”\nDynus offers a shrug. “What can you do, bird?”\n“I can read, write and speak the four most common tongues in the land. I know that the rats speak Portuguese, the dogs speak French, and you are speaking Scandinavian, using the Swedish dialect.”\nFrommoorn questions, “Where are you from, Nin?”\nNin comments, “Syria.”\nOwogon comments, “Then you are a scribe. There is aways work to be done for scribes.” Owowgon grabs the bird and pulls him in, forcing a hug. “Starting today, every cat is a free cat, and every friend of a free man will be free himself.”\n***\nIn a city only a few days walk away, Margret the Accuser sits behind a podium. Her body is garbed in decorated plate mail. A shroud is wrapped around her—striped green, white, and red—an emblem is carved into her breast; a rooster.\nThe room is adorned with stone tablets hanging from the walls. A scale sits on the desk waiting to weigh a soul against sins. The door to the chamber is pulled open by two men dressed in chain mail; a shield and mace are held by both. \nA pair of men with swords push three dogs that have been stripped naked into the room. Amongst them is an elderly man, a boy, and a young girl. Six archers wait in the corners of the room to shoot the three should they speak out of turn.\nMargret stands, her arms folded behind her back. She looks like a giant standing over the prisoners. One hand picks up a grain of rice and sets it on the scale. She then picks up a gold coin and sets that on the other arm of the scale.\nMargret walks out from behind the podium. She finds a spear mounted on the wall and places it between herself and the prisoners. She towers over them. “This is the ‘Hall of Justice’. Written on these walls is the ‘Law of Hammurapi.’ Pages from the greatest book ever written are carved out of clay here-- ‘The Eight Hundred and Seventy-Six Steps of Civilization.’ You all know these words; every dog does. We were all born and raised listening to these words recited time and time again. The law is burned into our souls. You three stand accused of having abused and broken the word. I know what you did, and you know who I am. You are here to speak your final piece.”\n“If your conviction is greater than the value of a single coin, you get to go home after this conversation. If it is not, then… there will be blood.”\nThe eldest of the dogs throws himself at the feet of his master. He babbles and pleads. He licks her feet and stares up her body, begging to not need to speak. Margret curls her lip and spins into a round kick, throwing the cowardly dog off her. She then takes her spear in both hands and stabs down at the disarmed and disrobed dog. \n“Do not beg me for forgiveness! Do not subjugate yourself to humility! I am above bribery and sympathy! There is now and only ever was-- law!”\nShe pulls her spear from the chest of the old dog. “Remove this filth from my sight!” The dead man is dragged away by one guard. Margret then turns to face the other prisoners. \nShe stands over the younger man next. Her voice changes in the blink of an eye from indignation to warmth. “You look hungry.”\nThe boy nods. “I am not a small man. The rations they offer here are not enough to fill me.”\nMargret expresses, “My brother tells me that you ate at his table and failed to offer him a gift of silver afterwards.”\nThe boy nods again. “I had no coins with me at the time I met your brother.”\nMargret explains, “It is often considered rude not to offer a gift to a man that cooks for you.”\nThe boy looks up, “The Steps of Civilization, chapter 3 paragraph 5; ‘Should a man be hungry and you have food enough to share, then it becomes your responsibility to feed that man.’” \nMargret places a handful of grains of rice on the scale. “Every dog is responsible for the people of his house. When one invites a dog into their home; their bed, their pantry, and their chamber are all to be offered freely. Never should your guest be in want or need. For one day, you may be in need and they will offer you all that is theirs.” She looks at him. “But my brother was not the first person whose table you ate from without payment.”\nThe boy starts to cry. “My mother is ill; she has no coin. She lost a hand in an accident and has not worked since. As her sons, we are doing what we can to take care of her. But…” he is shaking. He can no longer find the breath to speak.\nMargret stops him. “I know this much already.”\nThe boy is trying to talk but, shortness of breath has robbed him of the power. Only single words and broken phrases can escape his chest. “No more milk… cheese… and the baker…”\nMargret makes the boy stand. “Never should a dog be asked to serve two masters. When one does, he falls in love with one master and in fear with the other. Yet he must always walk softly, for never can he see where his masters hide. Chapter 39, paragraph 9.”\nMargret places a hand on the boy’s snout. “Are you afraid?”\nThe boy nods and whimpers. Margret offers the boy a kiss. She then looks to her bailiff. “Take this boy to the mines. Have him fitted with a collar; he will join the chain team. As for his mother, bring her twenty-eight cans of beef, sugar, butter and milk. Call in an advance payment for the work her boy is about to do.”\nMargret then turns her eyes on the last of her guests. “As for you; you are a killer.”\nThe girl speaks, “Burden of proof.”\nAfter placing a grain of rice on the scale, Margret replies, “You are here, your twin brother isn’t. \n“Hearsay; habeas corpus.” The girl is cold and controlled. She understands the game being played and she plans on winning.\nMargret places down another dozen grains of rice. “You already faced your accuser, yet you appeal to me. Why?”\n“Sua sponte.”\nMargret places down one more grain of rice and the scale balances. Margret nods. “As you wish.” She places down her spear and picks up a sword. “Say your name.”\n“Joanna.”\nMargret takes the sword and slides it under the girl’s chin, dragging her to her feet. She moves the sword to one of her cheeks and drags the blade along it, cutting one cheek; then she cuts the other the same way. “Joanna, this is your second time finding your way into my chamber—and the second time the gods have offered you redemption. But this time, you do not walk out with clean hands. Today, I gift you a sword. And I give you the responsibility to use it under my order. Today you have become Joanna Helblade. If you are going to be a maneater, you will eat who I tell you.”\nThe door slides open one more time. A rat steps into the room. He takes a bow and acknowledges his mother. “Sister Margret, Owogon has come ashore…”\n\nChapter 2 \n\nWine is rolled off the ship and carried into the town square. Men laugh and cheer as horns of mead are passed about. Owogon reaches around the bird Nin and offers him a slap on the back. “This is what it means to be a man. The smell of burning fire, your enemies crushed, a pint filled with mead. These are the best things in life.”\nNin nearly falls over from the affection of the cat. Blocks of metal are thrown between waiting hands and dropped alongside a fire. A grindstone and anvil are mounted at the threshold of the circle of stones, marking the edges of the pit. \nThe grindstone is assembled and men start to hand off weapon as the metallurgist begins to demonstrate his craft. Swords and axes need to be cleaned, shields need to me mended, armor reinforced.\nNin has a cup pushed into his wings. Another man grabs him from behind and makes him take a drink. After getting a taste of the Viking mead, Nin coughs. “Your men are in good spirits.”\nOne of the cat sailors steps out of a nearby house dragging a rat girl with him. The girl is shouting and crying “…Sou apenas uma cruabca, nao estava com os outros ratos.”\nThe cat throws the rat at Owogon’s feet. “I found this one hiding over there in the mill house,” he explains as he reaches for has axe. \nOwogon studies the outfit of the rat for a moment; a belt made of chain, a gown made of layered—semitransparent fabric, a blouse and shroud made of wool. Owogon holds up a hand to halt the execution. The rat partly crawls back to her knees. She freezes as she looks up at the cat lord. \nOwogon waves Nin over. “Nin, what did the rat just say?”\nNin asks the rat to repeat herself. “O que voce disse, garota?”\nThe girl repeats herself. “Nao estava com os outros ratos.”\nNin kneels down with a confused look on his face. “Voce nao e um rato?”\nShe shakes her head. “Eu noa estou com os piratas.”\nNin stands up and looks at Owogon. “She says she is not a pirate like the other rats.”\nOwogon asks, “Then what is she doing here?”\nNin looks at the girl, “Como voce chegou aqui?”\n“A taxa esta no mercado de comercio—minha mae e eu somos gado.” The girl cries. Nin offers her a hug to calm her. \nNin looks over his shoulder. “The girl and her mother are livestock.”\nOwogon questions, “Where is her mother?”\nAfter a moment of Nin and the rat whispering, Nin comments, “She doesn’t know.”\nOwogon walks over to a flag mounted in the ground. He rips the flag from its mast and shows it to the rat. “This is my name; these are my colors,” he explains as he ties it around the rat’s hips. “Carry this and no cat will bring you harm.” He takes off one of his armbands and ties it to her arm. “Amongst cats there are no slaves. As of this moment, you are a cat. We will find your mother. And I will be your father until we do.”\nThe rat bows. She offers many thanks, then in a skitter walks around trying to find ways to help the cats. She offers to carry armor and to pour drinks or any other odd job the cats would have her do. Even not speaking the language of the cats, it seems she is more than happy to offer her aid. Many of the sailors are happy to have her help. She is cute, as much as a rat can be.\nCleaning armor takes the cats well into the evening hours. There is no point in packing bags and marching when it is dark. That is a fine way to lose your path and lose time. So what must be done next is clear. Eat hearty and sing songs.\nAround the fire Owogon pulls his lute and strums the strings. After three notes have been played, many cats already know what song is first to be sung in this set. They grab each other by the arms and sway back and forth. Once the right key has been struck, the first of many songs are sewn.\n“Atop Mount Thyem a man once lived. It was the day of Korn in the age of Toko. His name was Gok.—Down on the ground an evil boy lived. He could not sing and he could not woo. He hated to hear men laugh, and he could not stand when women cried. So the evil boy said ‘You will have no more toys.’.”\n“From up on his rocks, Gok could see the fires growing hot. So the old man grabbed his sleigh and he called out, ‘Make way!’ And Gok did fly down the hills on high.”\n“Many would weep as the town was in a heap. The ash filled the wind and the whines of the men Gok did hear. Gok then said, “Ge had! What has become of your girls and boys? The evil man took away your toys?’”\n“Gok would work around the clock. He would strive and carve. He worked his hammer arm. Soon he had filled a farm.”\n“Then one snowy day, he filled up his sleigh, slew slid and skimmed into the town. Gok rained joy onto the town of Thyem.”\nLaughter fills the air as the song comes to a close. Hugs and slaps are passed around, playful kisses between all. It is a song about a celebration and only one of many. There are few things cats love more than to sing.\nDynus whistles and stomps a foot then claps his hands. Everyone knows what song is coming next.\n“Her name was Kit and she had no man. She lies alone in her bed on a windy, day and she did say, ‘This lass needs a lad. No cat should bed alone; I will make myself a man out of snow.”\n“She walks to the west. She climbs the pillars of the north and seeks out the wizard inside. She holds her hands in prayer and says, ‘Gok, I wish I may, I wish I might. Grant me a wish, give me your might.”\n“Then the old man plants a kiss in Kit’s hand and gifts her a cane and a bow. A slap on the tail and she is told to go. A magic cane in hand, she slides her tail to the dale. With craft and care she constructs her cat. She sets a bow in his hand and draws Tokogak on his heart. There is magic in this act and suddenly he is a cat. The snowman holds out his hand and starts to sing—'My name it Toski, Won’t you come and dance with me?’”\nFrommoorn steps up to Owogon and slaps him on the arm to pull him away from the songs. The tallest of the cats is holding a book of maps in one arm. He walks a dozen or more yards away from the fire so that the light doesn’t block his view of the sky. Frommoorn questions, “What direction is the Cane of Gok?”\nThis is an easy question to answer. Every traveling cat knows; if you place a stone bowl filled with salt water onto the ground and set in it a wooden coin and an arrow head, the arrow will spin until it is pointing at the Cane of Gok. This has been known by the cats for ages—this fact is so well known and so deeply rooted in their culture that all maps and calendars are drawn with this fact in mind.\nOwogon finds a small bowl amongst his gear and sets up the construct of this ritual. Once the arrow has come to rest, Owogon points. “That way.”\nFrommoorn nods. “Then we are south by southeast from the Cane of Gok.” He picks up one of his maps and holds it to the sky. He rotates the map so that the rose in the lower corner is in line with the arrowhead. He explains, “It is the 14th day of Demeter, is it not?”\nOwogon nods. “If I have been remembering to mark the days on my calendar. Why do you ask?”\nFrommoorn explains, “I have been having trouble reading our maps for the last several days. I think Father made a mistake when he drew these maps.” He points at several of the maps at his feet. “If we are where we should be, then that fire-watch is almost 100 leagues south of where it should be.”\nOwogon squints as he is looking off into the distance. A flickering light has caught his eye. “Do you have any hypothesis as to how that could be?”\nFrommoorn tries to line up the pages on the ground in a way that they make sense, with all the information available. “We are 15° too far west.”\nOwogon asks, “Does that mean that our father gave us bad maps?”\nFrommoorn folds his arms and shakes his head as he looks down at the assortment of papers. He glances up from where he is staring to try to track what Owogon is looking at. He too, notices the glow in the distance. Frommoorn whispers to his brother, “They have been walking behind us for several days. I first spotted them at the Tower of Svart-Vinge. He was stealing books, when he noticed that I had spotted him. He vanished into a hole in the wall. I saw him again at Rödhand.”\nOwogon asks, “What is it?” \n“A rat; an ugly one at that. He is two heads too short, fur on his tail, fat, and has a stripe of black fur on his snout. The rest of him is peppered grey and tan. He wears a shawl made of red dyed leather.”\nOwogon takes in the description as Frommoorn gives it. “Doesn’t sound like a knight or a sailor to me. What do you make of him?”\nFrommoorn comments, “A wizard.”\nOwogon smiles and grunts a laugh. “We should go say ‘hälsningar’. See if he is friendly. I have never seen a wizard with my own eyes.”\nChapter 3\nDante Brisbane \n08A-66Y-12M-14D\n\n\tI will be recording the following pages using the calendar that the cats use. I will do my best to try to record not the words said, but the meanings of the words spoken… my mother has charged me with the task of chasing history. It would just happen to be my luck that history wants to be found. As I had been exploring the Library of Blackwing, who should I happen upon but Prince Frommoorn of Frayhaland; please let it be known this is my best interpretation of the word used. The title spoken was ‘Mästare’. My first language is Greek and there is no direct translation of this word. Αφέντης comes to mind, but I think in context Πρίγκιπας is the intended reading.\n\tI have sent word to my mother and my sisters of the actions that I took next. I have abandoned my quest for ‘The Rule of Solomon’ and pursued the dragon ships of Heathen Cats. I had momentarily lost sight of them outside of the town of Redhand. I had borrowed a work hound from the Fransha family, to whom I still am in debt 7 sterling; and picked up the trail outside of Fyreguard. We are currently facing south, a four day’s walk from the Athereon River and the town of Riversold.\n\tI should like to say, in the time I have been watching the company of Owogon, I have seen many things I would not have expected of the cats. First and foremost, cats love to sing. I have been listening to cat songs being sung day and night. They have songs for walking, songs for cooking, songs for bathing, and songs to celebrate the setting of the sun. They use a complicated system of telling time as well. They are not counting the number of sunrises, the way the Grecchi do, or the cycles of the moon-the way the Druids do. Instead, they are mapping the movement of the stars in the sky. The placement of specific stars in contrast to the moon tells them the date. Consequently, it would seem this is also how they know their place in the world.\n\tI cannot say I know the method, but there is some unmovable object that they orient themselves against, and by counting the number of paws between themselves, the ‘guiding star’ and the moon, they know how many miles they have walked that day. I look forward to having the opportunity to learn more about this art. I would assume if one has only a slightly larger paw than someone else, they would be miles from where they think they are. \n\tIt dawns on me; the way cats sing songs is not unlike the way mice write poetry. The function of the songs may be as a method of protecting history. They sing in order to remember important events in their families. If I may extrapolate--here are a few phrases and concepts that seem to be key to me:\n\t“On the day I marry, my men will dance. We will deck the grand hall with fur of pine; and holland…” fur of pine is evergreen branches. they are filling the hall with shrubs and brush. Holland is a word that appears to describe a method of cutting cloth.\n\t“He crawls through the snow on a cold and windy day, the arms broken from his sleigh; up on the hill, with eyes of gleaming fire, a fawn waits. He prays to her, ‘Will you help me guide my sleigh tonight?” ‘He’ in this story seems to be Gok. He is a man that appears in many of the stories. I am under the impression he is some form of supernatural being, his nature I do not yet know. The ancestor spirits of the cats are divided into two groups, Aesir and Osmeer, the way I understand it. The Aesir are sky spirits; Osmeer earth spirits. But I digress. This story seems to be one of morality. Gok understands the limitations of his strength and so asks the aid of an earth spirit to help him.\n\t“At Christmas Smorgasbord, I ask of you my king, give me back my two front fangs. Otherwise I will not be able to sing to you tonight.”\n\t“Hark! Look to the left. Hark! look to the right; Gok is coming down the road tonight. With a belly full of cream and leather boots on his feet—a sack of fur and magic he packs. He sees who works, he sees who sleeps, he brings gifts to the best of the kits...” I believe this is a story about respect and the value of work. Gok cares who works and who sleeps, because those that work earn their way.\n\tThe culture of the cats is much deeper and more colorful than I had first suspected. I had imagined I would be watching the machinations of barbarians, yet—\n***\nDynus stands over the mouse Dante, a sword gripped in his fist. His smile is wide, his fur is greased down to make it glow in the firelight. The cat’s long hair waves around his body, flickering in the wind. “Det är modigt av dig, råtta, att utmana en katt!”\nThe cat leans in to take a stab at the mouse. The mouse is small; smaller than Dynus expected, and with much thicker hair. The stab lands; but it lands hitting nothing but cloth and fur. The mouse rolls off to the side and grabs his shepherd’s cane from the ground—then, with one more roll, he is up to his knees and ready for a fight. \"Sabe, eu odeio dizer isso, mas; eu sei o que você disse - ainda assim, eu não falo gato. Argo não pode me explicar.\"\nThe cat offers a wide smile as he grips his blade tightly. He spins about and runs forward to meet the mouse as he stands. Dante falls forward and rolls between the cat’s feet. With a nimble jump, he goes from crouching to standing and pokes the cat in the back with his cane. \nEnraged by the childish game the mouse seems to be playing, Dynus extends his claws. He brings one hand down and swoops at the mouse; but his grab is interrupted. Owogon’s front paw is in the way. He grabs his brother and brings him back to neutral. \"Säg mig Dynus; var det han eller du som ritade blad först?\" Owogon request, of his brother. \n\"det var jag,\" Dynus explains.\n“Frommoorn!” Owogon shouts. \"Gå och hitta fågeln, Nin, jag vill ha ord med honom och vår trollkarlsvän.\" With a nod of his head, Frommoorn grunts and runs off.\nOwogon chuckles. He brings both arms around Dynus and forces a deep hug. The two cats whisper a few words, but with them standing lip to ear Dante can neither hear nor understand what is being whispered. \nDante starts to pack up his scrolls and his lamp. Owogon looks at the mouse. He holds up a paw, then waves forward. He does not speak as he already has determined that the mouse does not know how to speak back—instead trying to get his thoughts across with body motions. Owogon turns his palm face down and pushes it at the ground. He looks up at the mouse and pats the dirt under his feet, then folds his paws over his chest and ducks his eyes.\nDante squints as he watches the Elderkit. One ear lowers, the other wiggles. Owogon moves both of his paws off to one side of his head, then tips his head and shuts his eyes. Next he points at the ground and rubs his front paws together. He watches the mouse to makes sure they have eye contact so that the mouse understands he is trying to communicate. \nDante picks up his bed roll. He ties it shut, then places it on the ground. Dante pats his bed roll then moves in front of it. He pushes his front paws at the ground and sits. He pats the blanket and lifts his ears.\nOwogon smiles and laughs. He looks at Dynus and call out, “Jag tror att den här är smartare än den genomsnittliga råttan.\" Owogon folds his legs and lowers body, sitting down facing the mouse. He holds one paw up and opens and closes his palm several times.\nDante knows this motion. He has a sister that can’t hear and so had spent some time reading up on nonverbal forms of communication. This motion is obsolete, but still used in a handful of sign languages--sometimes meaning “stop,” other times meaning “forward.”\nDante turns his paws face out. He lifts his elbows and locks his fingertips together. He slides one fist behind his other hand leaving it open. He balls one first and holds up the other hand—he needs to speak his thoughts aloud as he is signing in order to keep track of what he has said. Sadly, sign never became one of his more fluent languages.\nNin flaps his wings and lands atop Owogon’s shoulders. The bird speaks, parroting Dante’s words. “Friendship. Peace. Protection. Hidden. Fire?” He flaps his wings to halt the mouse. “Slow down, you are talking too fast.”\nDante’s eyes dart up as he notices he understands the bird. “I am a man of peace, a protector; a keeper of secret arts.”\n\tNin explains, “Then we are both men of the cloth; scribes and scholars.” Nin jumps back and forth between talking to Dante and talking to Owogon to make sure everyone is in on the conversation. Nin comments, “You are speaking with the words used by the Iberian sea rats. Yet, you are not a rat.”\n\tOwogon comments, “Then he is a Portuguese.”\n\t“I am Greek. I started my quest in Ionia and traveled southwest through Valletta to Tunis. I followed the coastline to Gibraltar where I boarded a boat to Genoa. Shortly thereafter I bumped into you. Most of the people along the way were speaking Portuguese—so, I assumed it to be the most popular language along the coast.”\n\tDynus explains, “We took the Volga trail most of the way here after leaving the Baltic .”\n\tDante asks, “Where are you trying to get? That was one circuitous route you took to get this far.” \n\tOwogon expresses, “We are rebuilding. Long ago, all the Germanic—Druid tribes were part of the Dane alliance. My father has sent out five hundred ships to seek out the remains of the old tribes—his brothers and cousins from across the world---to rejoin our family.”\n\tDante comments, “There are many that say you are a conqueror. You burn and ravage all in your path.”\n\tOwogon waves a paw outwards. “And what do you think wizard?” \n\t“I think I heard someone else say the same words, and he and I had a disagreement about what the word ‘family’ meant.” Dante lowers his eyes, thinking. “You have powerful opposition awaiting you. The Franco family has been raising the Celt Shield across the land for a very long time. Half the Germanic empire; Italy, Sicily, and most Byzantine —are all already under Celtic law.”\n\tThe three brothers all start to laugh, Frommoorn comments “I have seen Celtic Iron. I am not impressed.”\n\tDynus adds, “These scruffy dogs know nothing of pagan might.”\n\tOwogon holds up a hand to silence his siblings. “Let us not begin celebrating our victories yet. There may still be great warriors in their ranks. We have all heard whispers about powerful wizards and giants living in this land.” Owogon turns his attention back to the mouse. “Come Portuguese, enjoy some of our Scandinavian hospitality.” He takes the mouse and his brothers back to the camp to continue their drinking and song singing.\n\tFrom the fire a group of a dozen men have broken into two groups to perform an ancient sketch.\n\tAll together they sing, “…and on the day they wed, he built them a new bed. The sky was bright and the moon stood with great height, so finally they slept.” \n\tGroup one: “But then the man stood in great fright. He pointed and said ‘Why is there a cunny jumping on my bed? Did you put a bunny on the bed?”\n\tGroup two replies: “No I put no cunnies in the bed. Maybe it is the dirty sheets.”\n\tGroup one: “No more cunny jumping on the bed.”\n\tThey join back together. “The next day came and the man sewed new sheets. The sky was bright and the moon stood with great height and so finally to sleep.”\n\tGroup one: “But then the man stood in great fright. He pointed and said, ‘Why is there a cunny jumping on my bed? Did you put a bunny on the bed?”\n\tGroup two replies, “No, I put no cunnies in the bed, maybe it crawled in through the window.”\n\tGroup one: “No more cunny jumping on the bed.”\nThey join back together, “The next day came and the man closed the window and then he said, ‘Now there will be no more cunnies jumping on my bed. And so, it is time to sleep. The sky was bright and the moon stood with great height, and so, finally to sleep.”\n\tGroup one: “But then the man stood in great fright. He pointed and said, ‘Why are there two cunnies jumping on my bed? Did you put the bunnies in the bed?”\n\tGroup two replies, “No I put no cunnies in the bed. Maybe it was the moon.”\n\tThey join back together, “The next day came and the man went to the moon to say, ‘Please, no more cunnies jumping on my bed.’ The sky was bright and the moon stood with great height, and so, finally to sleep.”\n\tGroup one: “But then the man stood in great fright. He pointed and said, ‘Why are there four cunnies jumping on my bed? Did you put bunnies on the bed?”\n\tGroup two replies, “No, I put no cunnies in the bed, maybe;…it is both of us.”\n\tThey join back together, “The next day came and the man built a second bed. He then said, ‘Now there will be no cunnies jumping on my bed.’ The sky was bright and the moon stood with great height, and so finally to sleep.”\n\tGroup one: “But then the man stood in great fright. He pointed and said, ‘I see there are no cunnies jumping on my bed. Why are there no cunnies jumping on the bed?’”\nGroup two replies. “It only happens if we sleep in the same bed.”\nBoth sing together, “And that is why you should not sleep with a rabbit.”\nChapter 4\n\tMargret has taken her chariot back to the city of Furend where she has her main base. The mighty statesman deposits her armor to be cleaned by her steward as she makes her way back to her chamber. The room in which Margret sleeps is a chamber of exceptional size and beauty—larger in size than most people’s homes. The walls are covered with trophies she has taken from her travels and objects of historic and mystic value. \n\tWith her weapons and armor no longer in hand, the dog looks like most any other. It is not her size that is intimidating, it is her confidence. She speaks with power and authority. She locks the door to her room and walks slowly across it. Once she is sure her room is safe she discards her toga. The dog approaches the bathing vessel in the center of the room and lights a fire under it to warm the bath. She climbs in and sinks down until it is only her snout that is sticking out of the water. Her eyes are open as she watches the world through the rippling water of the bath.\n\tAfter days on the road, and the filthy work she has had to do, she is more than happy to sleep in the water, soak, and wait for the water to wash away her sins. Margret whispers to herself, “Cover me in sheep’s blood that the cleansing force of the one tree beast may free me of guilt.”\n\tThe sounds of metallic scratching and claws on wood reach Margret’s ears. She sits up in the water and reaches alongside the bathing vessel to pick up a knife she keeps hidden thereunder. The rat, Canary, has crawled in through the bedroom window. \n\tOnce she notices who is in her chamber Margret lowers her body. She lies on her stomach to hide her feminine characteristics. The rat grabs a chair and moves it in close so he can sit and talk to his friend. Margret complains, “I should give you a bell or something so I can hear you coming. I should like to have put on a clean toga before you arrived.”\n\tCanary snorts. He folds his legs and drapes an arm over the back of his chair. “I don’t see why you are acting embarrassed. There is nothing on your body that isn’t freely on display all across town. Most dogs seem to love walking around with their tail up.”\n\tThe dog smiles. She taps her knife on the side of the bath as she folds a paw under her chin. “You must try to understand, Monsieur; the body of a lady and the body of a commoner are hardly the same. The shape of a proper woman is not meant to be displayed and trivialized. Instead it is to be viewed through veil and curtain—wrapped in silk or clad in iron. A low-class dog is free to give away their body in whatever way they please. Not I.”\n\tThe rat leans his head back and offers a chuckle. “You think a good deal of yourself for someone that needed to slit throats to gain your family’s wealth.”\n\t“Everyone in the realm knows my name. I am the most famed of judges, the most influential lawmaker. Why shouldn’t I be proud of the works I have done?” The dog grins.\n\tCanary comments, “Between you and I, at least I know what I am. You had to steal everything you have.”\n\tMargret comments, “That reminds me. Didn’t I send you to Redhand?”\n\t“You sent me to Fyreguard. You sent some other rat to Redhand.”\n\tMargret nods. “And how did it go?”\n\tCanary comments, “It was fine until those cats showed up.”\n\tMargret questions, “What cats? There have been no cats on this side of Alpine’s Ridge in eighty years or more.”\n\tThe rat leans forward with his paws folded over his lap—his scowl growing ever more intense as he speaks, “Let me tell you; the cats are here and they are not the little sand cats from Nileflat. They are giant savanna cats—but bigger; with long hair and short tails, thick fur and claws that can cut rock.” He brings his head near Margret’s ear. “Now, I don’t mind getting dirty, I am ok with cutting up a man, but when my siblings start getting killed, my prices start going up. I need you to find me some protection.” The rat reaches a hand out to feel the fur of Margret’s cheeks.\n\tMargret grabs Canary to hold him still. “I don’t think you can afford the action you are about to take. But, I will do as you asked. I will send word to my brothers to ready riders and swift-spears. Just keep my laborers working.” She pushes the rat over, then stands up. Water drips down her body as she mounts a paw on her hip, taunting him; teasing him. The rat rolls his eyes up the mighty dog’s body. He almost forgets about the knife in her hand as he is intimidated enough by just how much taller she is than she looks. Margret flips the knife, grabbing it by the blade. She pulls it back behind one ear, threatening to throw it. \n\tCanary doesn’t believe that Margret would harm him, but he is not willing to bet his life on it. The rat rolls over onto all fours and runs away.\n***\n\tIt is raining. Thunder is quaking in the distance as Owogon and company march. Dynus points off ahead as they are walking alongside a mountain. “There is a gap in the ridge that way. From there we can slide between the hills and cross Dottrad Woods. By tomorrow night we should reach the border of Forsvunnet-Barn.”\n\tFrommoorn comments, “Assuming it is still there. We are using maps drawn in the sixth era. Property lines move.”\n\tOwogon adds, “We have no choice but to assume that the tribes have not migrated far. We trust in our father or—we have nothing.”\n\tA few cats behind Dante start to whisper. What they are saying makes no sense to the mouse—something about a spirit eating the unborn in Doorad. Dante seeks out Nin in the crowd. He finds the bird talking with Anya, the rat. “Nin,” Dante calls out. “Can you tell me what those two over there are saying?” He points to a nearby few men. \n\tNin holds up a wing and focuses his mind to listen in on the conversation. He parrots the parts he can understand. “…said Sam-Han, ‘The Tangler’s body would be filled with garlic.’ Then, ‘At sunrise the greater and lesser Manananggal will not be able to join’ and the curse would end.”\n\tAnya comments, “There are many words in that statement I do not understand.”\n\tNin waves a wing as he is extrapolating. “Sam-Han sounds like a name, one of the cat heroes I would assume. Manananggal sounds like a name also. Tangler, I think, is a description of something.”\n\tOwogon joins the conversation. He understands enough of what Nin is saying to be able to offer some helpful information. “Sam-Han är en 'Aesir' en större ande; Manananggal är \"Vanir\" en mindre ande. Sam-Han är beskyddare av gårdar, han är en ande som hjälper till med skörd och frikostighet - han ger förmögenhet till dem som lär sig att \"läsa vindarna\". Han är snäll”\n\n\tOwogon lets out a hiss. “Manananggal är väldigt annorlunda. Hon är självisk, girig, hungrig. Hon får mammor att vara sjuka och äter ofödda barn ur sin mammas mage. Hon kryper ner i ens säng på natten, gömmer sig i deras filtar. När en kvinna sover kryper Manananggal in i deras kropp och stjäl bort de ofödda. Mamman vaknar till det torra blodet på benen och filtarna och kan upptäcka att hon inte längre kan föda efterord..”\n\tNin repeats Owogon’s words so the mouse and the rat can understand also. “Sam-Han is a ‘Aesir,’ a greater spirit; Manananggal is ‘Vanir,’ a lesser spirit. Sam-Han is the protector of farms. He is a spirit that aids in harvest and bounty. He brings fortune to those that learn how to ‘read the winds.’ He is kind.”\n“Manananggal is very different. She is selfish, greedy, hungry. She makes Mothers to be ill and eats unborn children out of their mother’s stomach. She crawls into one’s bed at night and hides in their blankets. As a woman sleeps, Manananggal crawls into their body and steals away the unborn. The Mother will awaken to the dry blood on her legs and blankets, and may find she can no longer birth.”\n\tOver eons of disasters, cats have learned that when you march you do not march single file. They have, in fact, developed a complex arrangement of spacing in their processions—they divide and subdivide into elaborate groupings; parades, companies, divisions, detachments, squadrons and pallium. Some teams being as large as thirty cats, others as small as four. This is to guarantee that no single enemy flank will ever overtake a group of cats all at once. At the points and wings will often be the smallest group, then the center of the formation the largest. Every other cat in a team is holding a trumpet. This is to allow them to send up a distress call if they see something moving their way. In the event that a point of interest is spotted, one cat armed with a flag is appointed as ‘Go-between.’ They are given the task to run to the next nearest team to alert them of whatever intrigue has been discovered. For cats, fighting is just part of the culture. \n\tOne of the ‘go-betweens’ is spotted approaching from the northwest side of the company. A woman dressed in an iron vest, antlered crown and dog skin cape. She holds her flag overhead as she calls ahead. “Lard!”\n\tOwogon dismisses himself from the conversation with Nin to see what the girl wants. Once she is within arm’s reach of Owogon she kneels down before him, her eyes and tail down out of respect. “Lard Owogon, my pallium has spotted a carving on the road.” She draws a shape in the mud at Owogon’s feet. He kneels to look at it. He knows the shape, but part of it is missing. He needs to ask for clarification as to where the sign was.\n\t“What direction is the shape facing? Is it on the ground looking up, or on a rock or tree?”\n\tThe girl explains, “Mounted on a rock.”\n\tOwogon draws a line under the shape. “So then, it is meant to be looked at from this side?” he questions.\n\tThe girl nods. Owogon grunts. His ears lower as he offers the information he has. “This runic icon is ‘Grass.’ It is meant to be read as ‘Samhan’ or ‘harvest.’ The Hallows clan used this to mark lands they intended to build upon.” He asks, “Is there evidence of a camp nearby?”\n\tThe girl jumps to her feet. “Give me twenty cats and we will run a circuit searching for more.”\n\tOwogon nods. “Make it so.” He waves her on. He then shouts to the others on his team, “Mount stakes, pitch tents; we make camp here.”\n\tFires are lit, hard bread, nuts and salted meats are passed around for men to share. There is little wine being offered this break as it is not yet known to them how far it is to the next settlement, and it is best to always assume it will be seven days between long rests and restocking. \n\tA fireside is called for. Cats lean in close to the flames. Today is a day for stories; ones spoken in whispers. Stories about night-time marches into the trees and eyes floating in the sky--hidden things and frightful spirits. Today, cats remember warnings their elders gave to kittens—ways to avoid danger, things to make oneself aware of. \nChapter 5\n\nDante Brisbane \n08A-66Y-12M-17D\n\tIt is my experience that when trying to understand a people, there are several phases one must pass through: dialect, myth, creed, culture. To that end, Nin is one of the most useful friends I could have hoped to make.\n\tThe bird mimics sounds as instinctively as the hunt for comradery, though I do wonder how correctly he translates sometimes. As we have been transcribing song into word, there have been sounds that have been made that have no known analog in any other language. It has become a necessity to seek out usable substitutions. The first step in this is to learn the roots of these sounds.\n\tAs Nin, Anya and myself work we must travel the camp asking questions that I am sure many would view as childish. But as it be, to this culture, children is what we would be. \n‘Vanir’ and ‘Aesir’: both have the suffix of ‘ir’; why? There are those in the tribe that have insisted that this is because both these words describe a place. \nAesir is two words spoken as one. Those words are Aess-Ir; spoken as two words this becomes Sky-born.\n\tThe same is true of Vanir; when broken apart it is Vans-Ir; this would mean Ground Born.\n\tIt has been pointed out that these are not the only times that something like this happens in their language. ‘Elfhen’ is another event like this. The two words here are “Elfha’ and ‘Henen.’ This phrase means ‘Out of the tree’ or ‘from within the tree.’ \n\tThe next one is harder to understand ‘Ásynjur.’ The only description of this that makes sense to me is ‘Jur’ being Mother and ‘Asynen’ being ‘by’ or ‘from.’\n\tBut that interpretation seems to fall apart then the word Asynjur is more often than not coupled with the word ‘Vingólf’ which has a very specific meaning--“grape drink.” Does the phrase “Grape drink from the mother” mean anything to anyone? I had to try pose this question. It seems the way I phrased it was laughable. One cat even saying, \"Du kommer att förstå när du är en man,\" which Nin thought was somewhat rude.\n***\n\tFrommoorn stands in front of the fire. He takes off the bear skull hat he wears and lifts it high in the air as he addresses the gathering. “Years and years ago, when I was but a tiny kitten, my mother told me; ‘Do not walk in the woods on a rainy day if the clouds are black.’ She told me, ‘That is when Kinsnatch hunts.’ A she bear, twice as tall as the tallest cat you will ever see, weighing more the four grown men; she was a man-eater. She would rip doors of mud huts and eat kittens as they sleep.”\n\t“I saw Kinsnatch with my own eyes one rainy day. She picked me up in her mouth and I reached out my hand to find my father’s hammer.” Frommoorn pulls the hammer from his back and thrusts it in the air with a roar. “With my arm in her mouth I swung out with the hammer and struck Kinsatch on the cheek--and the bear cried.” He swings his hammer. “I summoned my courage and with all the might a cat can muster, I reclaimed my arm and I let the hammer fly. Hair dyed red; blood dripping from her fangs; I took the bear by the eyes and rolled her onto her back. A mighty roar broke the sky and I declared ‘—Kinsnatch! I have dominated you! Flee—flee for your life Kinsnatch! Trouble my people no more!’”\n\t“But Kinsnatch would not yield. So I struck her on the crown and took her skin to make my robe. Let songs be written. Let us tell our children there is no need to hide from the rain, for I, Frommoorn have slain Kinsnatch! Let stories of our heroic deeds spread like wild fire! There is no need to run from monsters that have already been subdued.”\n\tCats stomp their feet and roar out a cheer. “Hail Frommoorn! Prince of the Elderkit tribe!”\n\tA horn is blown from the northwest camp. Owogon calls for his brothers Dynus and Frommoorn to come. “Nin, Dante follow. Bring swords and bows.”\n\tA short walk from camp, a strange smell is in the wind. Owogon and twenty more cats fan out in an arc, chasing the scent. Cats can be both fast and silent. Owogon and company demonstrate this nicely—and best of all, where dogs and rats tend to walk by torchlight, cats are fine hunters--even under moonlight.\n\tA pair of beavers walk crouching in the brush. One is an elderly woman, the other is a child. The younger girl has a wrap tied around one leg, blood leaking though it. A set of eight piercings runs down one thigh, a moon-shaped cut following the dotted line. The older beaver holds a spear in one hand and a shield in the other. The child holds a lantern and a knife. Two beavers—out hunting in the rain. Such a thing never happens. These two are out here for another reason.\n\tOwogon walks into view of the beavers; Dynus standing to his right, Nin to his left. Owogon calls out to let it be known he is approaching. \"Vad behöver en gammal bäver och en kattunge gå i skogen på natten?\"\n\tThe beavers stand close to each other. One holds up her knife, the other points with her spear. Nin speaks up, “Lard Owogon wishes to know why you are traveling by night.”\n\tThe old woman speaks to the bird. “Today, my daughter should be in-heat, but last rain a beast came to her and cut a mark onto her body. The ‘Coiled One’ will be coming to take her soon. We bring wildflowers and a staff of pine. We will cast a spell to break this curse.”\n\tOwogon points at the ground and states, \"Kom, sitt, jag vill se den här markeringen.\"\n\tNin waves for the child to move in close. The bird explains, “Lard Owogon wants to see the markings you speak of.” The child walks forward in spite of her mother’s protests. Owogon makes the girl lay down. He unties the wrappings from her legs and pulls her thighs apart, looking at the cuts on her body. \n\tAs he feels his fingertips along the wounds, Owogon whispers a single word “Tangler…?” Several of the soldiers around Owogon quiver at the word. Fear is thick in the air as they whisper in discontent. Owogon reties the wrappings for the girl and helps her to her feet. Still kneeling, he waves Nin over. Owogon whispers with Nin for a short time, then Nin nods in understanding. \n\t“Owogon wishes to see your dwelling.”\n\tThe younger girl explains, “The ‘Coiled One’ knows where we live. He will find us there.”\n\tOwogon stomps a foot and clenches a fist. “He will find me there.” He turns to face his men. He shouts out to the cats. “Vanir Tangler, det har sagts, hon kan inte dö. Jag tror att jag ska testa den här teorin!”\n\tHearing the voice of their lard cat’s cheer. Spears and bows are held overhead and the cats cry out in joy, “Owogon!”\n***\nThe ground has become spongelike marshland. Under the foot of most any beast a heavy sloshing sound would follow each step. A long tendril of a body slides along the ground. Waves of water ripple off its blue-green hide. A high pitched airy sound murmurs as the beast sings.\nCome little child.\nI will take you away.\nInto this night of enchantment.\n \nCome little child\nThe time has come to play.\nInto the night so enchanting.\n\nCome little child.\nCome out and play\nNo need to wait for the day.\n\nA small wooden house floats on the swamp. The tentacled monster slips softly under the surface of the water. The blackness of the marsh protects it from view. it seeps up from the floorboards of the wooden house and into the bedroom of the child it had marked for death. Water leaks in through the walls. A soft rattling sound echoes in the chamber. The outline of the eyes of the beast open—a grim yellow light spills from its body. Long white fangs peek over its lips as its mouth slowly opens, teeth unfold, jaws separate, each tooth acting like a finger on a hand—able to move and rotate independent from the rest of the mouth.\nThe monster hooks its body around the bed. Its tail slaps the flowers from the nightstand. “Meek old spirit magic will not save you from my powers.” The mouth of the beast opens wide. Its tail grabs the blankets from the bed. “Look into the eyes of doom, little beaver.”\nBut where a child should be sleeping, a cat sits, very awake. Sword in one paw, axe in the other, Owogon leaps from the bed and throws out a hooking strike with the axe.\nTangler is shocked! The monster rears back to flee from the mighty Owogon. With but a second to catch its footing, the scaled beast throws out a lash of its tail. Owogon swings down his sword to catch the attack. The cat retaliates with a backhanded strike from his sword. The monster leans backwards, being pushed by the speed and power of the cat. Owogon roars; the monster quivers.\nTangler tries to jump forward and bite the cat. Owogon gather his weapons and brings down a hammering strike on the snout of the monster. Tangler brings down its tail and hooks it between Owogon’s feet. The cat falls over backwards. The beast snaps down with its jaws to grab the cat in its mouth. Owogon’s sword rips the monster’s lips from its face, and the cat is thrown across the room. The monster turns to run. It came here to eat a beaver, not fight a cat.\nOwogon blows his horn-- Dynus and Frommoorn know the monster is coming. They are waiting for it in the water.\nThe snake dips under the water and retreats to the woods. It has hardly exited the wooden hut before an arrow flies past its nose. Like a trio of giant monitor lizards, the three brothers are closing in from all sides. Dynus has a bow in hand, an arrow knocked and ready. Frommoorn has his hammer gripped in one hand, his mouth draped open, the bear skull atop his head and cape dripping from water. Owogon climbs up to his feet and holds his arms wide, showing off his axe and sword.\nTangler turns his head left, then right, as he tries to decide which cat to try and push past. It is not hard to work out that Dynus has both range and speed on his side. As soon as the snake blinks, the archer may strike. The cat with the bear skull on his head looks like a mad man, and Owogon has already demonstrated he is as strong as he looks; and skilled with a blade. \nA decision is made. Dynus is likely the weakest of the cats. Tangler opens his mouth wide and jumps at Dynus. Dynus fires his arrow. The snake is struck on the nose. He turns its attention off to one side, Frommoorn is running at the beast. Tangler slaps his tail on the water to throw mud at Dynus as he attacks the giant. Frommoorn throws a punch at the snake, then smacks it across the chest with his hammer. \nThe beast whips its body around trying to hide under the surface of the water. Owogon drops his sword in the water and swoops down to grab the snake by the teeth. He wrestles with the monster, rolling around in the water with it. Sitting on the snake’s head, the beast has no power to fight back. Owogon slides his other paw under the snake’s jaw and pulls at it with the hook on the back of his axe. The monster is quickly winded. It rolls over onto its back and slaps its tail on the ground several times, crying for forgiveness from the cats. \nOwogon stands up and drags the snake to dry land, using its fangs as handlebars. Frommoorn places a foot on the snake’s neck to hold it still. He offers a maddening laugh. Dynus draws another arrow; Owogon holds a hand up to hold his brother’s advance. “Hear me well, Manananggal. It matters to me not whom you slay. It is your choice who or what you feed on. But should you taste the blood of cat or beaver this night, then I wish for the Elfhan or any other spirits you pray to, to offer you mercy--because I will not. Do you understand?”\nThe snake comments, “Manananggal? The holy one? Cat, I do not know from where you hail, but Manananggal and all of her children have been dead since the sixth age.”\nOwogon grunts, “You were singing one of her songs.”\nTangler asks, “Do you not sing the songs of your heroes?”\nDynus snarls, “Speak not another word dust eater, or you will taste the steel of Danelaw.”\nOwogon waves a hand. Frommoorn takes his foot off the snake and howls at him, “Run belly walker!” Frommoorn stomps a foot and barks at the sky. \nThe beavers watch as the snake vanishes into the water. The younger of the two jumps at Owogon offering him a hug.", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "Chapter 1
Icy water roars. A lonely ship is thrown along the waves—a ship with a dragon mast, and a tall sail, blue in color, bearing the emblem of a raven with a shield in one claw and a hammer in the other. It is a ship from the Elderkit family. Standing at the mast is a young cat with thick braided hair and long whiskers that droop low, weaved into tails that grow down his face. It is Owogon The Traveler with sword in hand, Son of Yorg, the Marshal Cat. By Owogon’s side are his twin brothers, Dynus and Frommoorn. At their backs are two dozen godless cats.
A lighthouse on a hill is only a dozen leagues away, the town of Elsewere just beyond that. The town and the lighthouse are rightfully the property of Owogon’s family, but have fallen under the rule of rats.
The ship gains shore and the cats don armor, swords, axes, and hammers. Owogon holds up his sword and calls to his heathen army, “Raze them to the ground!” The cats cheer; “We know not fear, nor defeat! They will know that their gods have left them when they see our flags! Blood and fire!”
The cats cheer A blood boiling howl and march up the ice and snow. Teeth and ambition bear. Sabers rattle, axes and hammers are thrown into the air. Owogon points to the lighthouse. Rats quake with fear at the burning eyes of the godless army. Soon blood and darkness will take them. The Great Heathen Army has come!
The last three summers had been abnormally warm. Song balladeers and riddle sayers have dreamed up stories about how this explains the appearance of the cats.
The first people to see the heathen cats, it is told, had been monks living in an abbey on the Athereon river. It was three thousand years ago the cats had climbed the mountain of Elsewere; never to be seen again.  
But now, today, the cats are back. It is the sixty-sixth year of the eighth age. For two centuries the Dogs of Celt have ruled the land. Today, it is three siblings that share the thrones of power: Arthur the Strong named after the Athereon river; Merlin the Innocent—the elder of the two brothers; and Margret the Accuser—the oldest and bravest of the dogs.
As the army of cats had descended the slopes of their high mountain, the first thing they had done was attack houses of worship up and down the rivers.  The cats are demons, sent to earth to test the faith of dogs.
An allegiance was formed. Three families, once broken, have sworn an oath to protect the seat of power. To protect the church; the faith. The dogs will build a wall to stop the swarming of the cats. If the dogs fail, the armies of darkness will hold sway over the world for untold eras. The eighth age will have ended and no one will remember the noble sacrifices the dogs have made. That is the story being spun today.  
“War!” Owogon cries.
Dynus and Frommoorn hold up their tools of war, waving the army of cats to march. The lighthouse swarms with rats. The rats ready bows.
“Shields!” Owogon demands. Half the cats place their shields before them and march. The shields form a horseshoe cage around them, making attack from in front all but impossible. Arrows fly, but the steel of the cats does not give.
Rats are frightful foes to fight; deadly cunning, devilish ingenuity—trickery is a rats most fiendish weapon. But in hand-to-hand combat their tools become limited. Pitted against steel forged by cats, rat arrows are like straw; bronze knives are like rotting wood.
Owogon proves his courage. With a wave of his hand a dozen and a half cats storm the gates. The walls fall under the blades of the cats.
Canary with the Three Blades is the leader of this pack of rats. He is a privateer and a profiteer, happily selling his bravery to anyone willing to pay his price. His coming to this ancient fire-watch was a plot by a minor dog lord to try and expand his influence.
Surrounded by stolen silver and artwork plundered from churches up and down the coast, Canary stands at the door of the tower watching as the cats set fire to the surrounding village. Canary whispers to himself, “Demons have come to claim my soul. Davy Jones is coming for me.” He runs a hand up and down his chest drawing a holy emblem into his fur.
This conflict between families of dogs means nothing to Owogon. He knows nothing of this rat; Owogon is his father’s avenger, nothing more—and this town is simply the next stop on a checklist of villages that must be sacked.
The cat points at the rat; the rat staggers backwards into the fortification. He draws a sword in one hand, a knife in the other, and picks up a spear with his tail, readying himself for battle. The mighty Owogon grins, blood dripping from his fangs.
A rat jumps at Owogon from the left, another from the right—Owogon disregards the attack. With a swing of his arm the rats are flung to the ground. The mighty hero of the cats charges the door of the fort to meet the commander in hand-to-hand combat.
Rats are tricksters by nature--and Canary is no different. As the cat approaches the rat takes a moment to examine his vest and jacket, making sure he has his vials of burning gas, maggot eggs, stink powders and blood thinning nectar. The rat laces his blades with poisons—if he can’t kill the cat with the first slash of his knife, the cat will die slowly.
Canary gains his footing and rushes the cat. He takes a spinning slash from the left, then turns to lash out with his tail from the right. Owogon holds an arm forward to interrupt the first two slashes, then swings his axe down to cut the tip off Canary’s tail.  A back fist from the cat then sends the rat toppling into the ground. Owogon holds out his arms, challenging the rat to keep fighting.
Canary places one of his knives on the ground. He stands up and strikes a duelist pose. Owogon drops his sword and holds his axe front handed, mimicking Canary’s stance. Canary leans into a thrust, Owogon pivots to grab Canary’s arm and then reverses momentum into a hip throw. Owogon laughs at the rat. “You are brave, but you are not a cat.”
As he struggles to get back to his feet, the rat replies, “Lamento dizer que não consigo entendê-lo.”
Owogon spins his blade and holds it overhead ready to strike down the rat. Canary pulls from his pocket a fistful of red dust, throwing it at the cat. A burning cloud of vapor forms before Owogon, momentarily making him blind and dizzy. Canary runs off, searching for a place to hide. He is unlikely to be able to defeat Owogon in single combat. He needs more men and more swords. He will seek out Margret the Accuser. If the dogs want this town, they will need to help take it back.
By midday, there are no rats left to be found. The lighthouse is now Owogon’s once more.
Owogon finds a chalice on a table in the church. He dips it in the baptismal fountain and pours the water over his head, then washes his face in the holy water. Then he takes a drink. Dynus walks through the door of the church calling to the eldest of his siblings. “One vertical line, three horizontal lines. This symbol is painted on the door of just about every house in this town. What is it?”
After a long drink, Owogon gasps and pants once. “Local mythology. It is the name of a colossus, written in the tongue of Lupon. Our family once had stories about giants, also. But, we killed our gods. The dogs in this country offer sacrifices instead.” He turns to face his brother. “Dogs will happily bow and pray. Cats do not kneel.”
A chirping calls to the three brothers. “The word is Hammurapi. The emblem is made up of four parts. One long line, which can be read as ‘time’ or ‘civilization,’ then there are the three components: ‘faith’, ‘law’, and ‘retribution.”
Frommoorn shouts into the darkening church, “Who speaks!”
The chirp calls back, “My name is Nin.”
The brothers each kick down a door in the church, searching for the man called Nin. Owogon is the one to find him hidden behind a curtain, and down a flight of steps. Nin’s a bird with green, yellow, and blue feathers sitting in a cage swinging from the ceiling. A dozen dead bodies pepper the floor.
Owogon calls out, “Nin?”
The bird nods his head. “I am.”
Owogon asks, “And why, per say, have the rats found need to lock you in a cage?”
Nin shakes his head. “Not rats; dogs. On tithing day I did not have enough coin to satisfy the bishop, so; fifteen days in a cage I do would pay.”
Owogon snaps his fingers and waves Frommoorn forward. “Open the cage.”
Frommoorn does as instructed. He grabs the bars of the cage and roars. His chest bulges and his muscles flair. The giant cat rips the bars from the cage, bending and flexing the metal with his heroic power. The cat sweats. He grins and laughs, having had the opportunity to demonstrate his might.
The three brothers represent one characteristic each of what cats see as heroic. Frommoorn is of prestigious bulk. His arms are huge, his chest is rippling, his hair long and flowing. He has carved his body into the shape of a primal beast.
Dynus is the second of the trifecta. He is tall and slim and has long claws and long ears. He has a dexterous tail and can run, jump, and swim better than any other cat alive.
That leaves Owogon as the last corner. Owogon can sing and read.  Owogon knows poetry. He can see things others cannot, and he can sway the hearts and minds of any that hear his voice. Elderkit, is what people call the brothers. Wisdom, courage, and strength. They are what every cat wishes to be.
Nin bows before Owogon. Owogon grabs the bird and forces him to his feet. “I did not ask you to kneel.”
Nin lowers his eyes. “I believe I owe you, cat. What can I do to repay your kindness to me?”
Dynus offers a shrug. “What can you do, bird?”
“I can read, write and speak the four most common tongues in the land. I know that the rats speak Portuguese, the dogs speak French, and you are speaking Scandinavian, using the Swedish dialect.”
Frommoorn questions, “Where are you from, Nin?”
Nin comments, “Syria.”
Owogon comments, “Then you are a scribe. There is aways work to be done for scribes.” Owowgon grabs the bird and pulls him in, forcing a hug. “Starting today, every cat is a free cat, and every friend of a free man will be free himself.”
***
In a city only a few days walk away, Margret the Accuser sits behind a podium. Her body is garbed in decorated plate mail. A shroud is wrapped around her—striped green, white, and red—an emblem is carved into her breast; a rooster.
The room is adorned with stone tablets hanging from the walls. A scale sits on the desk waiting to weigh a soul against sins. The door to the chamber is pulled open by two men dressed in chain mail; a shield and mace are held by both.
A pair of men with swords push three dogs that have been stripped naked into the room. Amongst them is an elderly man, a boy, and a young girl. Six archers wait in the corners of the room to shoot the three should they speak out of turn.
Margret stands, her arms folded behind her back. She looks like a giant standing over the prisoners. One hand picks up a grain of rice and sets it on the scale. She then picks up a gold coin and sets that on the other arm of the scale.
Margret walks out from behind the podium. She finds a spear mounted on the wall and places it between herself and the prisoners. She towers over them. “This is the ‘Hall of Justice’. Written on these walls is the ‘Law of Hammurapi.’ Pages from the greatest book ever written are carved out of clay here-- ‘The Eight Hundred and Seventy-Six Steps of Civilization.’ You all know these words; every dog does. We were all born and raised listening to these words recited time and time again. The law is burned into our souls. You three stand accused of having abused and broken the word. I know what you did, and you know who I am. You are here to speak your final piece.”
“If your conviction is greater than the value of a single coin, you get to go home after this conversation. If it is not, then… there will be blood.”
The eldest of the dogs throws himself at the feet of his master. He babbles and pleads.  He licks her feet and stares up her body, begging to not need to speak. Margret curls her lip and spins into a round kick, throwing the cowardly dog off her. She then takes her spear in both hands and stabs down at the disarmed and disrobed dog.
“Do not beg me for forgiveness! Do not subjugate yourself to humility! I am above bribery and sympathy! There is now and only ever was-- law!”
She pulls her spear from the chest of the old dog. “Remove this filth from my sight!” The dead man is dragged away by one guard. Margret then turns to face the other prisoners.
She stands over the younger man next. Her voice changes in the blink of an eye from indignation to warmth. “You look hungry.”
The boy nods. “I am not a small man. The rations they offer here are not enough to fill me.”
Margret expresses, “My brother tells me that you ate at his table and failed to offer him a gift of silver afterwards.”
The boy nods again. “I had no coins with me at the time I met your brother.”
Margret explains, “It is often considered rude not to offer a gift to a man that cooks for you.”
The boy looks up, “The Steps of Civilization, chapter 3 paragraph 5; ‘Should a man be hungry and you have food enough to share, then it becomes your responsibility to feed that man.’”  
Margret places a handful of grains of rice on the scale. “Every dog is responsible for the people of his house. When one invites a dog into their home; their bed, their pantry, and their chamber are all to be offered freely. Never should your guest be in want or need. For one day, you may be in need and they will offer you all that is theirs.” She looks at him. “But my brother was not the first person whose table you ate from without payment.”
The boy starts to cry. “My mother is ill; she has no coin. She lost a hand in an accident and has not worked since. As her sons, we are doing what we can to take care of her. But…” he is shaking. He can no longer find the breath to speak.
Margret stops him. “I know this much already.”
The boy is trying to talk but, shortness of breath has robbed him of the power. Only single words and broken phrases can escape his chest. “No more milk… cheese… and the baker…”
Margret makes the boy stand. “Never should a dog be asked to serve two masters. When one does, he falls in love with one master and in fear with the other. Yet he must always walk softly, for never can he see where his masters hide. Chapter 39, paragraph 9.”
Margret places a hand on the boy’s snout. “Are you afraid?”
The boy nods and whimpers. Margret offers the boy a kiss. She then looks to her bailiff. “Take this boy to the mines. Have him fitted with a collar; he will join the chain team. As for his mother, bring her twenty-eight cans of beef, sugar, butter and milk. Call in an advance payment for the work her boy is about to do.”
Margret then turns her eyes on the last of her guests. “As for you; you are a killer.”
The girl speaks, “Burden of proof.”
After placing a grain of rice on the scale, Margret replies, “You are here, your twin brother isn’t.
“Hearsay; habeas corpus.” The girl is cold and controlled. She understands the game being played and she plans on winning.
Margret places down another dozen grains of rice. “You already faced your accuser, yet you appeal to me. Why?”
“Sua sponte.”
Margret places down one more grain of rice and the scale balances. Margret nods. “As you wish.” She places down her spear and picks up a sword. “Say your name.”
“Joanna.”
Margret takes the sword and slides it under the girl’s chin, dragging her to her feet. She moves the sword to one of her cheeks and drags the blade along it, cutting one cheek; then she cuts the other the same way. “Joanna, this is your second time finding your way into my chamber—and the second time the gods have offered you redemption. But this time, you do not walk out with clean hands. Today, I gift you a sword. And I give you the responsibility to use it under my order. Today you have become Joanna Helblade. If you are going to be a maneater, you will eat who I tell you.”
The door slides open one more time. A rat steps into the room. He takes a bow and acknowledges his mother. “Sister Margret, Owogon has come ashore…”

Chapter 2

Wine is rolled off the ship and carried into the town square. Men laugh and cheer as horns of mead are passed about. Owogon reaches around the bird Nin and offers him a slap on the back. “This is what it means to be a man. The smell of burning fire, your enemies crushed, a pint filled with mead. These are the best things in life.”
Nin nearly falls over from the affection of the cat. Blocks of metal are thrown between waiting hands and dropped alongside a fire. A grindstone and anvil are mounted at the threshold of the circle of stones, marking the edges of the pit.
The grindstone is assembled and men start to hand off weapon as the metallurgist begins to demonstrate his craft. Swords and axes need to be cleaned, shields need to me mended, armor reinforced.
Nin has a cup pushed into his wings. Another man grabs him from behind and makes him take a drink. After getting a taste of the Viking mead, Nin coughs. “Your men are in good spirits.”
One of the cat sailors steps out of a nearby house dragging a rat girl with him. The girl is shouting and crying “…Sou apenas uma cruabca, nao estava com os outros ratos.”
The cat throws the rat at Owogon’s feet. “I found this one hiding over there in the mill house,” he explains as he reaches for has axe.
Owogon studies the outfit of the rat for a moment; a belt made of chain, a gown made of layered—semitransparent fabric, a blouse and shroud made of wool. Owogon holds up a hand to halt the execution. The rat partly crawls back to her knees. She freezes as she looks up at the cat lord.
Owogon waves Nin over. “Nin, what did the rat just say?”
Nin asks the rat to repeat herself. “O que voce disse, garota?”
The girl repeats herself. “Nao estava com os outros ratos.”
Nin kneels down with a confused look on his face. “Voce nao e um rato?”
She shakes her head. “Eu noa estou com os piratas.”
Nin stands up and looks at Owogon. “She says she is not a pirate like the other rats.”
Owogon asks, “Then what is she doing here?”
Nin looks at the girl, “Como voce chegou aqui?”
“A taxa esta no mercado de comercio—minha mae e eu somos gado.” The girl cries. Nin offers her a hug to calm her.
Nin looks over his shoulder. “The girl and her mother are livestock.”
Owogon questions, “Where is her mother?”
After a moment of Nin and the rat whispering, Nin comments, “She doesn’t know.”
Owogon walks over to a flag mounted in the ground. He rips the flag from its mast and shows it to the rat. “This is my name; these are my colors,” he explains as he ties it around the rat’s hips. “Carry this and no cat will bring you harm.” He takes off one of his armbands and ties it to her arm. “Amongst cats there are no slaves. As of this moment, you are a cat. We will find your mother. And I will be your father until we do.”
The rat bows. She offers many thanks, then in a skitter walks around trying to find ways to help the cats. She offers to carry armor and to pour drinks or any other odd job the cats would have her do. Even not speaking the language of the cats, it seems she is more than happy to offer her aid. Many of the sailors are happy to have her help. She is cute, as much as a rat can be.
Cleaning armor takes the cats well into the evening hours. There is no point in packing bags and marching when it is dark. That is a fine way to lose your path and lose time. So what must be done next is clear. Eat hearty and sing songs.
Around the fire Owogon pulls his lute and strums the strings. After three notes have been played, many cats already know what song is first to be sung in this set. They grab each other by the arms and sway back and forth. Once the right key has been struck, the first of many songs are sewn.
“Atop Mount Thyem a man once lived. It was the day of Korn in the age of Toko. His name was Gok.—Down on the ground an evil boy lived. He could not sing and he could not woo. He hated to hear men laugh, and he could not stand when women cried. So the evil boy said ‘You will have no more toys.’.”
“From up on his rocks, Gok could see the fires growing hot. So the old man grabbed his sleigh and he called out, ‘Make way!’ And Gok did fly down the hills on high.”
“Many would weep as the town was in a heap. The ash filled the wind and the whines of the men Gok did hear. Gok then said, “Ge had! What has become of your girls and boys? The evil man took away your toys?’”
“Gok would work around the clock. He would strive and carve. He worked his hammer arm. Soon he had filled a farm.”
“Then one snowy day, he filled up his sleigh, slew slid and skimmed into the town. Gok rained joy onto the town of Thyem.”
Laughter fills the air as the song comes to a close. Hugs and slaps are passed around, playful kisses between all. It is a song about a celebration and only one of many. There are few things cats love more than to sing.
Dynus whistles and stomps a foot then claps his hands. Everyone knows what song is coming next.
“Her name was Kit and she had no man. She lies alone in her bed on a windy, day and she did say, ‘This lass needs a lad. No cat should bed alone; I will make myself a man out of snow.”
“She walks to the west. She climbs the pillars of the north and seeks out the wizard inside. She holds her hands in prayer and says, ‘Gok, I wish I may, I wish I might. Grant me a wish, give me your might.”
“Then the old man plants a kiss in Kit’s hand and gifts her a cane and a bow. A slap on the tail and she is told to go. A magic cane in hand, she slides her tail to the dale. With craft and care she constructs her cat. She sets a bow in his hand and draws Tokogak on his heart. There is magic in this act and suddenly he is a cat. The snowman holds out his hand and starts to sing—'My name it Toski, Won’t you come and dance with me?’”
Frommoorn steps up to Owogon and slaps him on the arm to pull him away from the songs. The tallest of the cats is holding a book of maps in one arm. He walks a dozen or more yards away from the fire so that the light doesn’t block his view of the sky. Frommoorn questions, “What direction is the Cane of Gok?”
This is an easy question to answer. Every traveling cat knows; if you place a stone bowl filled with salt water onto the ground and set in it a wooden coin and an arrow head, the arrow will spin until it is pointing at the Cane of Gok. This has been known by the cats for ages—this fact is so well known and so deeply rooted in their culture that all maps and calendars are drawn with this fact in mind.
Owogon finds a small bowl amongst his gear and sets up the construct of this ritual. Once the arrow has come to rest, Owogon points. “That way.”
Frommoorn nods. “Then we are south by southeast from the Cane of Gok.” He picks up one of his maps and holds it to the sky. He rotates the map so that the rose in the lower corner is in line with the arrowhead. He explains, “It is the 14th day of Demeter, is it not?”
Owogon nods. “If I have been remembering to mark the days on my calendar. Why do you ask?”
Frommoorn explains, “I have been having trouble reading our maps for the last several days. I think Father made a mistake when he drew these maps.” He points at several of the maps at his feet. “If we are where we should be, then that fire-watch is almost 100 leagues south of where it should be.”
Owogon squints as he is looking off into the distance. A flickering light has caught his eye. “Do you have any hypothesis as to how that could be?”
Frommoorn tries to line up the pages on the ground in a way that they make sense, with all the information available. “We are 15° too far west.”
Owogon asks, “Does that mean that our father gave us bad maps?”
Frommoorn folds his arms and shakes his head as he looks down at the assortment of papers. He glances up from where he is staring to try to track what Owogon is looking at. He too, notices the glow in the distance. Frommoorn whispers to his brother, “They have been walking behind us for several days. I first spotted them at the Tower of Svart-Vinge. He was stealing books, when he noticed that I had spotted him. He vanished into a hole in the wall. I saw him again at Rödhand.”
Owogon asks, “What is it?”
“A rat; an ugly one at that. He is two heads too short, fur on his tail, fat, and has a stripe of black fur on his snout. The rest of him is peppered grey and tan. He wears a shawl made of red dyed leather.”
Owogon takes in the description as Frommoorn gives it. “Doesn’t sound like a knight or a sailor to me. What do you make of him?”
Frommoorn comments, “A wizard.”
Owogon smiles and grunts a laugh. “We should go say ‘hälsningar’. See if he is friendly. I have never seen a wizard with my own eyes.”
Chapter 3
Dante Brisbane
08A-66Y-12M-14D

\tI will be recording the following pages using the calendar that the cats use. I will do my best to try to record not the words said, but the meanings of the words spoken… my mother has charged me with the task of chasing history. It would just happen to be my luck that history wants to be found. As I had been exploring the Library of Blackwing, who should I happen upon but Prince Frommoorn of Frayhaland; please let it be known this is my best interpretation of the word used. The title spoken was ‘Mästare’. My first language is Greek and there is no direct translation of this word. Αφέντης comes to mind, but I think in context Πρίγκιπας is the intended reading.
\tI have sent word to my mother and my sisters of the actions that I took next. I have abandoned my quest for ‘The Rule of Solomon’ and pursued the dragon ships of Heathen Cats. I had momentarily lost sight of them outside of the town of Redhand. I had borrowed a work hound from the Fransha family, to whom I still am in debt 7 sterling; and picked up the trail outside of Fyreguard. We are currently facing south, a four day’s walk from the Athereon River and the town of Riversold.
\tI should like to say, in the time I have been watching the company of Owogon, I have seen many things I would not have expected of the cats. First and foremost, cats love to sing. I have been listening to cat songs being sung day and night. They have songs for walking, songs for cooking, songs for bathing, and songs to celebrate the setting of the sun. They use a complicated system of telling time as well. They are not counting the number of sunrises, the way the Grecchi do, or the cycles of the moon-the way the Druids do. Instead, they are mapping the movement of the stars in the sky. The placement of specific stars in contrast to the moon tells them the date. Consequently, it would seem this is also how they know their place in the world.
\tI cannot say I know the method, but there is some unmovable object that they orient themselves against, and by counting the number of paws between themselves, the ‘guiding star’ and the moon, they know how many miles they have walked that day. I look forward to having the opportunity to learn more about this art. I would assume if one has only a slightly larger paw than someone else, they would be miles from where they think they are.
\tIt dawns on me; the way cats sing songs is not unlike the way mice write poetry. The function of the songs may be as a method of protecting history. They sing in order to remember important events in their families. If I may extrapolate--here are a few phrases and concepts that seem to be key to me:
\t“On the day I marry, my men will dance. We will deck the grand hall with fur of pine; and holland…” fur of pine is evergreen branches. they are filling the hall with shrubs and brush. Holland is a word that appears to describe a method of cutting cloth.
\t“He crawls through the snow on a cold and windy day, the arms broken from his sleigh; up on the hill, with eyes of gleaming fire, a fawn waits. He prays to her, ‘Will you help me guide my sleigh tonight?” ‘He’ in this story seems to be Gok. He is a man that appears in many of the stories. I am under the impression he is some form of supernatural being, his nature I do not yet know. The ancestor spirits of the cats are divided into two groups, Aesir and Osmeer, the way I understand it. The Aesir are sky spirits; Osmeer earth spirits. But I digress. This story seems to be one of morality. Gok understands the limitations of his strength and so asks the aid of an earth spirit to help him.
\t“At Christmas Smorgasbord, I ask of you my king, give me back my two front fangs. Otherwise I will not be able to sing to you tonight.”
\t“Hark! Look to the left. Hark! look to the right; Gok is coming down the road tonight. With a belly full of cream and leather boots on his feet—a sack of fur and  magic he packs. He sees who works, he sees who sleeps, he brings gifts to the best of the kits...” I believe this is a story about respect and the value of work. Gok cares who works and who sleeps, because those that work earn their way.
\tThe culture of the cats is much deeper and more colorful than I had first suspected. I had imagined I would be watching the machinations of barbarians, yet—
***
Dynus stands over the mouse Dante, a sword gripped in his fist. His smile is wide, his fur is greased down to make it glow in the firelight. The cat’s long hair waves around his body, flickering in the wind. “Det är modigt av dig, råtta, att utmana en katt!”
The cat leans in to take a stab at the mouse. The mouse is small; smaller than Dynus expected, and with much thicker hair. The stab lands; but it lands hitting nothing but cloth and fur. The mouse rolls off to the side and grabs his shepherd’s cane from the ground—then, with one more roll, he is up to his knees and ready for a fight. "Sabe, eu odeio dizer isso, mas; eu sei o que você disse - ainda assim, eu não falo gato. Argo não pode me explicar."
The cat offers a wide smile as he grips his blade tightly. He spins about and runs forward to meet the mouse as he stands. Dante falls forward and rolls between the cat’s feet. With a nimble jump, he goes from crouching to standing and pokes the cat in the back with his cane.
Enraged by the childish game the mouse seems to be playing, Dynus extends his claws. He brings one hand down and swoops at the mouse; but his grab is interrupted. Owogon’s front paw is in the way. He grabs his brother and brings him back to neutral. "Säg mig Dynus; var det han eller du som ritade blad först?" Owogon request, of his brother.
"det var jag," Dynus explains.
“Frommoorn!” Owogon shouts. "Gå och hitta fågeln, Nin, jag vill ha ord med honom och vår trollkarlsvän." With a nod of his head, Frommoorn grunts and runs off.
Owogon chuckles. He brings both arms around Dynus and forces a deep hug. The two cats whisper a few words, but with them standing lip to ear Dante can neither hear nor understand what is being whispered.
Dante starts to pack up his scrolls and his lamp. Owogon looks at the mouse. He holds up a paw, then waves forward. He does not speak as he already has determined that the mouse does not know how to speak back—instead trying to get his thoughts across with body motions. Owogon turns his palm face down and pushes it at the ground. He looks up at the mouse and pats the dirt under his feet, then folds his paws over his chest and ducks his eyes.
Dante squints as he watches the Elderkit. One ear lowers, the other wiggles. Owogon moves both of his paws off to one side of his head, then tips his head and shuts his eyes. Next he points at the ground and rubs his front paws together. He watches the mouse to makes sure they have eye contact so that the mouse understands he is trying to communicate.
Dante picks up his bed roll. He ties it shut, then places it on the ground. Dante pats his bed roll then moves in front of it. He pushes his front paws at the ground and sits. He pats the blanket and lifts his ears.
Owogon smiles and laughs. He looks at Dynus and call out, “Jag tror att den här är smartare än den genomsnittliga råttan." Owogon folds his legs and lowers body, sitting down facing the mouse. He holds one paw up and opens and closes his palm several times.
Dante knows this motion. He has a sister that can’t hear and so had spent some time reading up on nonverbal forms of communication. This motion is obsolete, but still used in a handful of sign languages--sometimes meaning “stop,” other times meaning “forward.”
Dante turns his paws face out. He lifts his elbows and locks his fingertips together. He slides one fist behind his other hand leaving it open. He balls one first and holds up the other hand—he needs to speak his thoughts aloud as he is signing in order to keep track of what he has said. Sadly, sign never became one of his more fluent languages.
Nin flaps his wings and lands atop Owogon’s shoulders. The bird speaks, parroting Dante’s words. “Friendship. Peace. Protection. Hidden. Fire?” He flaps his wings to halt the mouse. “Slow down, you are talking too fast.”
Dante’s eyes dart up as he notices he understands the bird. “I am a man of peace, a protector; a keeper of secret arts.”
\tNin explains, “Then we are both men of the cloth; scribes and scholars.” Nin jumps back and forth between talking to Dante and talking to Owogon to make sure everyone is in on the conversation. Nin comments, “You are speaking with the words used by the Iberian sea rats. Yet, you are not a rat.”
\tOwogon comments, “Then he is a Portuguese.”
\t“I am Greek. I started my quest in Ionia and traveled southwest through Valletta to Tunis. I followed the coastline to Gibraltar where I boarded a boat to Genoa. Shortly thereafter I bumped into you. Most of the people along the way were speaking Portuguese—so, I assumed it to be the most popular language along the coast.”
\tDynus explains, “We took the Volga trail most of the way here after leaving the Baltic .”
\tDante asks, “Where are you trying to get? That was one circuitous route you took to get this far.”
\tOwogon expresses, “We are rebuilding. Long ago, all the Germanic—Druid tribes were part of the Dane alliance. My father has sent out five hundred ships to seek out the remains of the old tribes—his brothers and cousins from across the world---to rejoin our family.”
\tDante comments, “There are many that say you are a conqueror. You burn and ravage all in your path.”
\tOwogon waves a paw outwards. “And what do you think wizard?”
\t“I think I heard someone else say the same words, and he and I had a disagreement about what the word ‘family’ meant.” Dante lowers his eyes, thinking. “You have powerful opposition awaiting you. The Franco family has been raising the Celt Shield across the land for a very long time. Half the Germanic empire; Italy, Sicily, and most Byzantine —are all already under Celtic law.”
\tThe three brothers all start to laugh, Frommoorn comments “I have seen Celtic Iron. I am not impressed.”
\tDynus adds, “These scruffy dogs know nothing of pagan might.”
\tOwogon holds up a hand to silence his siblings. “Let us not begin celebrating our victories yet. There may still be great warriors in their ranks. We have all heard whispers about powerful wizards and giants living in this land.” Owogon turns his attention back to the mouse. “Come Portuguese, enjoy some of our Scandinavian hospitality.” He takes the mouse and his brothers back to the camp to continue their drinking and song singing.
\tFrom the fire a group of a dozen men have broken into two groups to perform an ancient sketch.
\tAll together they sing, “…and on the day they wed, he built them a new bed. The sky was bright and the moon stood with great height, so finally they slept.”
\tGroup one: “But then the man stood in great fright. He pointed and said ‘Why is there a cunny jumping on my bed? Did you put a bunny on the bed?”
\tGroup two replies: “No I put no cunnies in the bed. Maybe it is the dirty sheets.”
\tGroup one: “No more cunny jumping on the bed.”
\tThey join back together. “The next day came and the man sewed new sheets. The sky was bright and the moon stood with great height and so finally to sleep.”
\tGroup one: “But then the man stood in great fright. He pointed and said, ‘Why is there a cunny jumping on my bed? Did you put a bunny on the bed?”
\tGroup two replies, “No, I put no cunnies in the bed, maybe it crawled in through the window.”
\tGroup one: “No more cunny jumping on the bed.”
They join back together, “The next day came and the man closed the window and then he said, ‘Now there will be no more cunnies jumping on my bed. And so, it is time to sleep. The sky was bright and the moon stood with great height, and so, finally to sleep.”
\tGroup one: “But then the man stood in great fright. He pointed and said, ‘Why are there two cunnies jumping on my bed? Did you put the bunnies in the bed?”
\tGroup two replies, “No I put no cunnies in the bed. Maybe it was the moon.”
\tThey join back together, “The next day came and the man went to the moon to say, ‘Please, no more cunnies jumping on my bed.’ The sky was bright and the moon stood with great height, and so, finally to sleep.”
\tGroup one: “But then the man stood in great fright. He pointed and said, ‘Why are there four cunnies jumping on my bed? Did you put bunnies on the bed?”
\tGroup two replies, “No, I put no cunnies in the bed, maybe;…it is both of us.”
\tThey join back together, “The next day came and the man built a second bed. He then said, ‘Now there will be no cunnies jumping on my bed.’ The sky was bright and the moon stood with great height, and so finally to sleep.”
\tGroup one: “But then the man stood in great fright. He pointed and said, ‘I see there are no cunnies jumping on my bed. Why are there no cunnies jumping on the bed?’”
Group two replies. “It only happens if we sleep in the same bed.”
Both sing together, “And that is why you should not sleep with a rabbit.”
Chapter 4
\tMargret has taken her chariot back to the city of Furend where she has her main base. The mighty statesman deposits her armor to be cleaned by her steward as she makes her way back to her chamber. The room in which Margret sleeps is a chamber of exceptional size and beauty—larger in size than most people’s homes. The walls are covered with trophies she has taken from her travels and objects of historic and mystic value.
\tWith her weapons and armor no longer in hand, the dog looks like most any other. It is not her size that is intimidating, it is her confidence. She speaks with power and authority. She locks the door to her room and walks slowly across it. Once she is sure her room is safe she discards her toga. The dog approaches the bathing vessel in the center of the room and lights a fire under it to warm the bath. She climbs in and sinks down until it is only her snout that is sticking out of the water. Her eyes are open as she watches the world through the rippling water of the bath.
\tAfter days on the road, and the filthy work she has had to do, she is more than happy to sleep in the water, soak, and wait for the water to wash away her sins. Margret whispers to herself, “Cover me in sheep’s blood that the cleansing force of the one tree beast may free me of guilt.”
\tThe sounds of metallic scratching and claws on wood reach Margret’s ears. She sits up in the water and reaches alongside the bathing vessel to pick up a knife she keeps hidden thereunder. The rat, Canary, has crawled in through the bedroom window.
\tOnce she notices who is in her chamber Margret lowers her body. She lies on her stomach to hide her feminine characteristics. The rat grabs a chair and moves it in close so he can sit and talk to his friend. Margret complains, “I should give you a bell or something so I can hear you coming. I should like to have put on a clean toga before you arrived.”
\tCanary snorts. He folds his legs and drapes an arm over the back of his chair. “I don’t see why you are acting embarrassed. There is nothing on your body that isn’t freely on display all across town. Most dogs seem to love walking around with their tail up.”
\tThe dog smiles. She taps her knife on the side of the bath as she folds a paw under her chin. “You must try to understand, Monsieur; the body of a lady and the body of a commoner are hardly the same. The shape of a proper woman is not meant to be displayed and trivialized. Instead it is to be viewed through veil and curtain—wrapped in silk or clad in iron. A low-class dog is free to give away their body in whatever way they please. Not I.”
\tThe rat leans his head back and offers a chuckle. “You think a good deal of yourself for someone that needed to slit throats to gain your family’s wealth.”
\t“Everyone in the realm knows my name. I am the most famed of judges, the most influential lawmaker. Why shouldn’t I be proud of the works I have done?” The dog grins.
\tCanary comments, “Between you and I, at least I know what I am. You had to steal everything you have.”
\tMargret comments, “That reminds me. Didn’t I send you to Redhand?”
\t“You sent me to Fyreguard. You sent some other rat to Redhand.”
\tMargret nods. “And how did it go?”
\tCanary comments, “It was fine until those cats showed up.”
\tMargret questions, “What cats? There have been no cats on this side of Alpine’s Ridge in eighty years or more.”
\tThe rat leans forward with his paws folded over his lap—his scowl growing ever more intense as he speaks, “Let me tell you; the cats are here and they are not the little sand cats from Nileflat. They are giant savanna cats—but bigger; with long hair and short tails, thick fur and claws that can cut rock.” He brings his head near Margret’s ear. “Now, I don’t mind getting dirty, I am ok with cutting up a man, but when my siblings start getting killed, my prices start going up. I need you to find me some protection.” The rat reaches a hand out to feel the fur of Margret’s cheeks.
\tMargret grabs Canary to hold him still. “I don’t think you can afford the action you are about to take. But, I will do as you asked. I will send word to my brothers to ready riders and swift-spears. Just keep my laborers working.” She pushes the rat over, then stands up. Water drips down her body as she mounts a paw on her hip, taunting him; teasing him. The rat rolls his eyes up the mighty dog’s body. He almost forgets about the knife in her hand as he is intimidated enough by just how much taller she is than she looks. Margret flips the knife, grabbing it by the blade. She pulls it back behind one ear, threatening to throw it.
\tCanary doesn’t believe that Margret would harm him, but he is not willing to bet his life on it. The rat rolls over onto all fours and runs away.
***
\tIt is raining. Thunder is quaking in the distance as Owogon and company march. Dynus points off ahead as they are walking alongside a mountain. “There is a gap in the ridge that way. From there we can slide between the hills and cross Dottrad Woods. By tomorrow night we should reach the border of Forsvunnet-Barn.”
\tFrommoorn comments, “Assuming it is still there. We are using maps drawn in the sixth era. Property lines move.”
\tOwogon adds, “We have no choice but to assume that the tribes have not migrated far. We trust in our father or—we have nothing.”
\tA few cats behind Dante start to whisper. What they are saying makes no sense to the mouse—something about a spirit eating the unborn in Doorad. Dante seeks out Nin in the crowd. He finds the bird talking with Anya, the rat. “Nin,” Dante calls out. “Can you tell me what those two over there are saying?” He points to a nearby few men.
\tNin holds up a wing and focuses his mind to listen in on the conversation. He parrots the parts he can understand. “…said Sam-Han, ‘The Tangler’s body would be filled with garlic.’ Then, ‘At sunrise the greater and lesser Manananggal will not be able to join’ and the curse would end.”
\tAnya comments, “There are many words in that statement I do not understand.”
\tNin waves a wing as he is extrapolating. “Sam-Han sounds like a name, one of the cat heroes I would assume. Manananggal sounds like a name also. Tangler, I think, is a description of something.”
\tOwogon joins the conversation. He understands enough of what Nin is saying to be able to offer some helpful information. “Sam-Han är en 'Aesir' en större ande; Manananggal är "Vanir" en mindre ande. Sam-Han är beskyddare av gårdar, han är en ande som hjälper till med skörd och frikostighet - han ger förmögenhet till dem som lär sig att "läsa vindarna". Han är snäll”

\tOwogon lets out a hiss. “Manananggal är väldigt annorlunda. Hon är självisk, girig, hungrig. Hon får mammor att vara sjuka och äter ofödda barn ur sin mammas mage. Hon kryper ner i ens säng på natten, gömmer sig i deras filtar. När en kvinna sover kryper Manananggal in i deras kropp och stjäl bort de ofödda. Mamman vaknar till det torra blodet på benen och filtarna och kan upptäcka att hon inte längre kan föda efterord..”
\tNin repeats Owogon’s words so the mouse and the rat can understand also. “Sam-Han is a ‘Aesir,’ a greater spirit; Manananggal is ‘Vanir,’ a lesser spirit. Sam-Han is the protector of farms. He is a spirit that aids in harvest and bounty. He brings fortune to those that learn how to ‘read the winds.’ He is kind.”
“Manananggal is very different. She is selfish, greedy, hungry. She makes Mothers to be ill and eats unborn children out of their mother’s stomach. She crawls into one’s bed at night and hides in their blankets. As a woman sleeps, Manananggal crawls into their body and steals away the unborn. The Mother will awaken to the dry blood on her legs and blankets, and may find she can no longer birth.”
\tOver eons of disasters, cats have learned that when you march you do not march single file. They have, in fact, developed a complex arrangement of spacing in their processions—they divide and subdivide into elaborate groupings; parades, companies, divisions, detachments, squadrons and pallium. Some teams being as large as thirty cats, others as small as four. This is to guarantee that no single enemy flank will ever overtake a group of cats all at once. At the points and wings will often be the smallest group, then the center of the formation the largest. Every other cat in a team is holding a trumpet. This is to allow them to send up a distress call if they see something moving their way. In the event that a point of interest is spotted, one cat armed with a flag is appointed as ‘Go-between.’ They are given the task to run to the next nearest team to alert them of whatever intrigue has been discovered.  For cats, fighting is just part of the culture.
\tOne of the ‘go-betweens’ is spotted approaching from the northwest side of the company. A woman dressed in an iron vest, antlered crown and dog skin cape. She holds her flag overhead as she calls ahead. “Lard!”
\tOwogon dismisses himself from the conversation with Nin to see what the girl wants. Once she is within arm’s reach of Owogon she kneels down before him, her eyes and tail down out of respect. “Lard Owogon, my pallium has spotted a carving on the road.” She draws a shape in the mud at Owogon’s feet. He kneels to look at it. He knows the shape, but part of it is missing. He needs to ask for clarification as to where the sign was.
\t“What direction is the shape facing? Is it on the ground looking up, or on a rock or tree?”
\tThe girl explains, “Mounted on a rock.”
\tOwogon draws a line under the shape. “So then, it is meant to be looked at from this side?” he questions.
\tThe girl nods. Owogon grunts. His ears lower as he offers the information he has. “This runic icon is ‘Grass.’ It is meant to be read as ‘Samhan’ or ‘harvest.’ The Hallows clan used this to mark lands they intended to build upon.” He asks, “Is there evidence of a camp nearby?”
\tThe girl jumps to her feet. “Give me twenty cats and we will run a circuit searching for more.”
\tOwogon nods. “Make it so.” He waves her on. He then shouts to the others on his team, “Mount stakes, pitch tents; we make camp here.”
\tFires are lit, hard bread, nuts and salted meats are passed around for men to share. There is little wine being offered this break as it is not yet known to them how far it is to the next settlement, and it is best to always assume it will be seven days between long rests and restocking.  
\tA fireside is called for. Cats lean in close to the flames. Today is a day for stories; ones spoken in whispers. Stories about night-time marches into the trees and eyes floating in the sky--hidden things and frightful spirits. Today, cats remember warnings their elders gave to kittens—ways to avoid danger, things to make oneself aware of.
Chapter 5

Dante Brisbane
08A-66Y-12M-17D
\tIt is my experience that when trying to understand a people, there are several phases one must pass through: dialect, myth, creed, culture. To that end, Nin is one of the most useful friends I could have hoped to make.
\tThe bird mimics sounds as instinctively as the hunt for comradery, though I do wonder how correctly he translates sometimes. As we have been transcribing song into word, there have been sounds that have been made that have no known analog in any other language. It has become a necessity to seek out usable substitutions. The first step in this is to learn the roots of these sounds.
\tAs Nin, Anya and myself work we must travel the camp asking questions that I am sure many would view as childish. But as it be, to this culture, children is what we would be.
‘Vanir’ and ‘Aesir’: both have the suffix of ‘ir’; why? There are those in the tribe that have insisted that this is because both these words describe a place.
Aesir is two words spoken as one. Those words are Aess-Ir; spoken as two words this becomes Sky-born.
\tThe same is true of Vanir; when broken apart it is Vans-Ir; this would mean Ground Born.
\tIt has been pointed out that these are not the only times that something like this happens in their language. ‘Elfhen’ is another event like this. The two words here are “Elfha’ and ‘Henen.’ This phrase means ‘Out of the tree’ or ‘from within the tree.’
\tThe next one is harder to understand ‘Ásynjur.’ The only description of this that makes sense to me is ‘Jur’ being Mother and ‘Asynen’ being ‘by’ or ‘from.’
\tBut that interpretation seems to fall apart then the word Asynjur is more often than not coupled with the word ‘Vingólf’ which has a very specific meaning--“grape drink.” Does the phrase “Grape drink from the mother” mean anything to anyone? I had to try pose this question. It seems the way I phrased it was laughable. One cat even saying, "Du kommer att förstå när du är en man," which Nin thought was somewhat rude.
***
\tFrommoorn stands in front of the fire. He takes off the bear skull hat he wears and lifts it high in the air as he addresses the gathering. “Years and years ago, when I was but a tiny kitten, my mother told me; ‘Do not walk in the woods on a rainy day if the clouds are black.’ She told me, ‘That is when Kinsnatch hunts.’ A she bear, twice as tall as the tallest cat you will ever see, weighing more the four grown men; she was a man-eater. She would rip doors of mud huts and eat kittens as they sleep.”
\t“I saw Kinsnatch with my own eyes one rainy day. She picked me up in her mouth and I reached out my hand to find my father’s hammer.” Frommoorn pulls the hammer from his back and thrusts it in the air with a roar. “With my arm in her mouth I swung out with the hammer and struck Kinsatch on the cheek--and the bear cried.” He swings his hammer. “I summoned my courage and with all the might a cat can muster, I reclaimed my arm and I let the hammer fly. Hair dyed red; blood dripping from her fangs; I took the bear by the eyes and rolled her onto her back. A mighty roar broke the sky and I declared ‘—Kinsnatch! I have dominated you! Flee—flee for your life Kinsnatch! Trouble my people no more!’”
\t“But Kinsnatch would not yield. So I struck her on the crown and took her skin to make my robe. Let songs be written. Let us tell our children there is no need to hide from the rain, for I, Frommoorn have slain Kinsnatch! Let stories of our heroic deeds spread like wild fire! There is no need to run from monsters that have already been subdued.”
\tCats stomp their feet and roar out a cheer. “Hail Frommoorn! Prince of the Elderkit tribe!”
\tA horn is blown from the northwest camp. Owogon calls for his brothers Dynus and Frommoorn to come. “Nin, Dante follow. Bring swords and bows.”
\tA short walk from camp, a strange smell is in the wind. Owogon and twenty more cats fan out in an arc, chasing the scent. Cats can be both fast and silent. Owogon and company demonstrate this nicely—and best of all, where dogs and rats tend to walk by torchlight, cats are fine hunters--even under moonlight.
\tA pair of beavers walk crouching in the brush. One is an elderly woman, the other is a child. The younger girl has a wrap tied around one leg, blood leaking though it. A set of eight piercings runs down one thigh, a moon-shaped cut following the dotted line. The older beaver holds a spear in one hand and a shield in the other. The child holds a lantern and a knife. Two beavers—out hunting in the rain. Such a thing never happens. These two are out here for another reason.
\tOwogon walks into view of the beavers; Dynus standing to his right, Nin to his left. Owogon calls out to let it be known he is approaching. "Vad behöver en gammal bäver och en kattunge gå i skogen på natten?"
\tThe beavers stand close to each other. One holds up her knife, the other points with her spear. Nin speaks up, “Lard Owogon wishes to know why you are traveling by night.”
\tThe old woman speaks to the bird. “Today, my daughter should be in-heat, but last rain a beast came to her and cut a mark onto her body. The ‘Coiled One’ will be coming to take her soon. We bring wildflowers and a staff of pine. We will cast a spell to break this curse.”
\tOwogon points at the ground and states, "Kom, sitt, jag vill se den här markeringen."
\tNin waves for the child to move in close. The bird explains, “Lard Owogon wants to see the markings you speak of.” The child walks forward in spite of her mother’s protests. Owogon makes the girl lay down. He unties the wrappings from her legs and pulls her thighs apart, looking at the cuts on her body.
\tAs he feels his fingertips along the wounds, Owogon whispers a single word “Tangler…?” Several of the soldiers around Owogon quiver at the word. Fear is thick in the air as they whisper in discontent.  Owogon reties the wrappings for the girl and helps her to her feet. Still kneeling, he waves Nin over. Owogon whispers with Nin for a short time, then Nin nods in understanding.
\t“Owogon wishes to see your dwelling.”
\tThe younger girl explains, “The ‘Coiled One’ knows where we live. He will find us there.”
\tOwogon stomps a foot and clenches a fist. “He will find me there.” He turns to face his men. He shouts out to the cats. “Vanir Tangler, det har sagts, hon kan inte dö. Jag tror att jag ska testa den här teorin!”
\tHearing the voice of their lard cat’s cheer. Spears and bows are held overhead and the cats cry out in joy, “Owogon!”
***
The ground has become spongelike marshland. Under the foot of most any beast a heavy sloshing sound would follow each step. A long tendril of a body slides along the ground. Waves of water ripple off its blue-green hide. A high pitched airy sound murmurs as the beast sings.
Come little child.
I will take you away.
Into this night of enchantment.
 
Come little child
The time has come to play.
Into the night so enchanting.

Come little child.
Come out and play
No need to wait for the day.

A small wooden house floats on the swamp. The tentacled monster slips softly under the surface of the water. The blackness of the marsh protects it from view. it seeps up from the floorboards of the wooden house and into the bedroom of the child it had marked for death. Water leaks in through the walls. A soft rattling sound echoes in the chamber. The outline of the eyes of the beast open—a grim yellow light spills from its body. Long white fangs peek over its lips as its mouth slowly opens, teeth unfold, jaws separate, each tooth acting like a finger on a hand—able to move and rotate independent from the rest of the mouth.
The monster hooks its body around the bed. Its tail slaps the flowers from the nightstand. “Meek old spirit magic will not save you from my powers.” The mouth of the beast opens wide. Its tail grabs the blankets from the bed. “Look into the eyes of doom, little beaver.”
But where a child should be sleeping, a cat sits, very awake. Sword in one paw, axe in the other, Owogon leaps from the bed and throws out a hooking strike with the axe.
Tangler is shocked! The monster rears back to flee from the mighty Owogon. With but a second to catch its footing, the scaled beast throws out a lash of its tail. Owogon swings down his sword to catch the attack. The cat retaliates with a backhanded strike from his sword. The monster leans backwards, being pushed by the speed and power of the cat. Owogon roars; the monster quivers.
Tangler tries to jump forward and bite the cat. Owogon gather his weapons and brings down a hammering strike on the snout of the monster. Tangler brings down its tail and hooks it between Owogon’s feet. The cat falls over backwards. The beast snaps down with its jaws to grab the cat in its mouth. Owogon’s sword rips the monster’s lips from its face, and the cat is thrown across the room. The monster turns to run. It came here to eat a beaver, not fight a cat.
Owogon blows his horn-- Dynus and Frommoorn know the monster is coming. They are waiting for it in the water.
The snake dips under the water and retreats to the woods. It has hardly exited the wooden hut before an arrow flies past its nose. Like a trio of giant monitor lizards, the three brothers are closing in from all sides. Dynus has a bow in hand, an arrow knocked and ready. Frommoorn has his hammer gripped in one hand, his mouth draped open, the bear skull atop his head and cape dripping from water. Owogon climbs up to his feet and holds his arms wide, showing off his axe and sword.
Tangler turns his head left, then right, as he tries to decide which cat to try and push past. It is not hard to work out that Dynus has both range and speed on his side. As soon as the snake blinks, the archer may strike. The cat with the bear skull on his head looks like a mad man, and Owogon has already demonstrated he is as strong as he looks; and skilled with a blade.
A decision is made. Dynus is likely the weakest of the cats. Tangler opens his mouth wide and jumps at Dynus. Dynus fires his arrow. The snake is struck on the nose. He turns its attention off to one side, Frommoorn is running at the beast. Tangler slaps his tail on the water to throw mud at Dynus as he attacks the giant. Frommoorn throws a punch at the snake, then smacks it across the chest with his hammer.
The beast whips its body around trying to hide under the surface of the water. Owogon drops his sword in the water and swoops down to grab the snake by the teeth. He wrestles with the monster, rolling around in the water with it. Sitting on the snake’s head, the beast has no power to fight back. Owogon slides his other paw under the snake’s jaw and pulls at it with the hook on the back of his axe. The monster is quickly winded. It rolls over onto its back and slaps its tail on the ground several times, crying for forgiveness from the cats.
Owogon stands up and drags the snake to dry land, using its fangs as handlebars. Frommoorn places a foot on the snake’s neck to hold it still. He offers a maddening laugh. Dynus draws another arrow; Owogon holds a hand up to hold his brother’s advance. “Hear me well, Manananggal. It matters to me not whom you slay. It is your choice who or what you feed on. But should you taste the blood of cat or beaver this night, then I wish for the Elfhan or any other spirits you pray to, to offer you mercy--because I will not. Do you understand?”
The snake comments, “Manananggal? The holy one? Cat, I do not know from where you hail, but Manananggal and all of her children have been dead since the sixth age.”
Owogon grunts, “You were singing one of her songs.”
Tangler asks, “Do you not sing the songs of your heroes?”
Dynus snarls, “Speak not another word dust eater, or you will taste the steel of Danelaw.”
Owogon waves a hand. Frommoorn takes his foot off the snake and howls at him, “Run belly walker!” Frommoorn stomps a foot and barks at the sky.
The beavers watch as the snake vanishes into the water. The younger of the two jumps at Owogon offering him a hug.", "pools_count": 0, "title": "Blood and Fire preview", "deleted": "f", "public": "t", "mimetype": "image/png", "pagecount": "1", "rating_id": "2", "rating_name": "Adult", "ratings": [ { "content_tag_id": "3", "name": "Violence", "description": "Mild violence", "rating_id": "1" }, { "content_tag_id": "5", "name": "Strong Violence", "description": "Strong violence, blood, serious injury or death", "rating_id": "2" } ], "submission_type_id": "12", "type_name": "Writing - Document", "guest_block": "t", "friends_only": "f", "comments_count": "0", "views": "54" }