FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The Portal Games

Mchumba's Promo

"Oh...oh, those bastards...are going...to pay," Mchumba grunted out between desperate kicks and strokes. "They'll PAY!"

The rat's shout meant nothing to the ships rapidly disappearing across the horizon, borne on winds that she could not match, swimming in ways that no two-legger could possibly compete with. She struggled just to reach one piece of wood after another, the remnants of a ship that she had saved for over a decade to buy outright and now sunk in less than an hour. Dragging herself over one of the planks, she glared at the departing sails, burning the flags at the tops of the masts into her memory. White, red, and blue, wrapped around a staff of gold: such a flag belonged to the Slave Lords, but the staff marked them as the merchant company that conducted the slave trade itself.

Mchumba kicked away, channeling all her rage into every kick. The rare fish that was stupid enough to get behind her as the rat kicked to shore suffered all the rage that she had for those that had done this to her, punted away, sometimes out of the water, and usually unconscious.

One shark, stupid enough to come for her, took a punch in the nose instead. It thought better of going for a second bite.

Eventually, the red-wrapped rodent reached the shore. She panted for breath, as even her anger could not entirely sustain her from the exhaustion of swimming several miles from where her ship had sunk to the shoreline. Falling to her knees, she turned to the sea once more.

The faintest edge of her new sworn enemies could be seen on the horizon, scarcely visible against the setting sun. Mchumba raised her fist, shaking it at them before she slumped down to all fours once more, shivers of exhaustion running down her body as she took stock of what she'd lost.

Her ship, destroyed.

Her crew, taken.

Her goods, seized or sunk.

And what remained? A single sword on her hip, her charts - if they'd survived her dunk in the sea when her enemies had thrown her overboard - and a determination to see this righted. Mchumba breathed out slowly, forcing herself back to a kneeling position as she looked up at the sky. Red, orange, and streams of purple ran across the heavens, all streaking back to the setting sun in the distance. She raised her arms.

"If this be your lesson...I call you a poor teacher, oh heaven..." She laughed, shaking her head. "So what if I be a criminal? So what if I sailed and razed the towns of dogs and pigs? They did it first. They came here, to my home. I only paid the favor back. I only did to them what they did to me. Did they suffer for their doings? Why should I? Why should I?!"

The heavens had no answer for her, and nor did the sea. She dropped her arms to her sides, shaking her head as she looked at the sand beneath her legs. It was already turning to mud with the rising tide, already staining her once-white leggings a deep, mucky brown. Her vest, once red silk, was half-torn from the fall and the splinters of the wood. She grunted in disgust, ripping it off and throwing it to the ground. It would not be the first night she'd gone bare-chested, nor the last, so long as she survived this.

Forcing herself to her feet, she pulled her cutlass from her hip, pointing it off towards the horizon. She opened her mouth to swear a new oath, only to fall short. One ship had turned back, bearing the same flag as the one that had taken her crew.

Mayhap someone had seen her swim to shore and wanted to finish the job. Mayhap they only wanted to see if they could salvage what goods of hers remained. Whatever it be, she would not survive a fight against so many at once if they spotted her again. She sheathed her blade and fled inland, praying her boots would survive the beating they were about to receive.

And so Mchumba, the rat that had raided the settler towns of the Black Coast in proclaimed vengeance for twelve years, the rat that had used the stolen funds to pay outright for her new ship, who had been about to turn a corner, was sent scurrying like the rodent she was through the woods. She ran, and she ran, and she ran some more, eventually running so far that she could no longer see the seashore, but ran further as the shouts of the settlers followed her, calling out sights of her tracks through the forest.

She gritted her teeth as she forced herself as far as her legs would take her, and when that failed, she threw herself to the trees, swinging herself from the branches like the very monkeys around her. Her swiftness was beyond compare; she was known for it, for her flights through the riggings, for leaping from one ship to another to take the fight to their masts if she could not find their captains. She was a terror on the heights.

But she was tired. So tired. When her legs failed, and then her arms, she had little left. She fumbled her next leap, and the rat tumbled to the ground. Landing with a thump, she groaned, reaching for her sword.

She unsheathed it just in time. A cur of a mutt leaped from the trees, wearing the blue-gold outfit of a company man. He jumped, stabbing for her arm, only for her to roll and bring her cutlass under his limb. He gasped, his blood streaming from his armpit as she pulled her blade free, leaving him falling to the ground beside her.

The others came slower, taking their time to climb through the gap in the trees. Dogs, mostly, with a cat here and a pig following behind. They stared down at her, two of the younger men blushing at her bare breasts.

"Savage," one muttered.

"Might be fun, though," another whispered.

Mchumba laughed, using her cutlass to force herself to her feet. Though she shook, she held her blade on them, backing up slowly.

"Don't count on any fun from me, boys. I be a biter, and a terror."

"..."

"Come on. Come on. You want fun? Try and take it. I no be afraid to die; be you?"

Oh, they were. And no matter how tired she was, she'd take at least one of them with her before they could bring her to the ground. No fit revenge, that, but in what world could someone like her take anything that belonged to her? Not this one.

And then...a shimmer. A deep blue and black that glowed from behind her. The pig officer shouted 'witchcraft', and the men stumbled backwards, their eyes wide. It gave her a moment to turn, to look.

A sea unlike any that she knew spread out before her, bounded by a black ring like a devilish looking glass. Mchumba stared through it for a moment, only to laugh.

"No world like this...but maybe in one like that."

Exhausted, she fell through.