An Ill Wind (Chapter 1)

Story by Kelvrin on SoFurry

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Authors Note: As the description says, this is a story about Kraeia (Kray-uh) and Kelvrin. Originally started as a request, but kind of desolved and is now being posted here! This is the introduction to Kraeia's situtaion. Other introductions will be made later in the series. I get all tingly thinking about it. Enjoy!

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A light breeze drifted softly across the rolling grasslands outside the town of Haven. The grey sky peered down on the land, threatening a downpour at a moments notice. The clouds built into swirls, hiding the sun and casting the world in shadow.

In short, it was a bad day.

Kraeia stood atop a black boulder sticking out of the ground. The dismal breeze drifted up the rock, slightly ruffling the fur on his chest where his high-collared, black trench coat didn't cover. The wind lifted the bottom of the coat, revealing a black and white ringed tail, flicking lazily back and forth. His tail stood out against the black pants he wore.

His ears flicked back as he heard a sound off in the distance. He turned to look out north, where the rolling hills slowly faded in the horizon. He jumped off his perch, claws rasping against the boulder, and trotted up the next hill, searching for a better vantage point. The fit, lean tiger quickly made the ascension and peered out across the plains. There was nothing to be seen yet, just an ocean of grass. He remained motionless on top of the hill, waiting. Whatever made the sound would show itself soon enough.

He knew it was something bad. A feeling of foreboding flooded him like a sixth sense, a skill he had picked up while fighting as a mercenary under the Sun Hawks, a company on the other side of the continent. He had been promoted to lieutenant just before he left, but even the increased pay and benefits couldn't convince him to take on the suicidal mission that their captain, one Molis Lanlem, had been considering.

One mounted unit, two foot, and one of specialists, maybe 1000 men and women total, against a trained, standing army of 30,000. And she wanted us to lay siege to their city. Kraeia cringed inside. Even after a year and a half, the fact that his captain had even considered taking the job still made him flinch. The walls of Ibica were massive and well-built. Her insane plan to tunnel under and take the city from the inside would have failed miserably if she had gotten to try it, but when she wouldn't listen to reason, all of her sub-commanders walked.

There is no point in running to your own grave, he thought. The dismal sky and view complemented his feelings, making him give a small sigh from a normally stoic mouth. His decision had cost him his livelihood. Nobody would hire a mercenary without a company. He was freelance, otherwise known as the scum of society, a small step above the beggars. With out a steady source of pay, he soon had lost his home and his mount, and had set out by himself to find some new form of work. Most of the jobs he could find were simple labor, things that didn't pay nearly enough to feed him for more than a few days. The other jobs were dangerous, working on the deep sea boats, harvesting the larger sea creatures for their skins and oils. Kraeia wasn't adverse to danger, but he did have a decent sense of self-preservation.

So he had wandered from town to town, picking up loose odds and ends here and there. Somehow he managed to survive on minimum pay and food. Once someone found out about his past however, he was tossed out of whatever job he had at the moment. Nobody trusted a mercenary who had betrayed his commander. Nobody trusted an insubordinate soldier, no matter how right he had been. The other lieutenants had kept contacts outside of the company. They all had homes waiting for them, people to come back for, people to live for. Kraeia had had no one but himself. The only person he could think of that might have helped him was his shield mate Kelvrin, the massive black and gold gryphon. Unfortunately, Kelvrin had left the company two campaigns earlier, after he had met some musicians in a bar one night, and had taken up with them.

Damn bird. Kraeia smiled slightly to himself. Just like him to throw away everything for a chance to have attention lavished on his vain head. He wasn't really mad at his friend though. After all, it had been Kel who had pulled Kraeia back onto his feet.

Lucky bastard, got his out early. Scythes forsaken in favor of the saxophone, the gryphon had left and vanished from the world.

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Kraeia hadn't seen him in years. It was pure chance that one day, in a club off the southern coast, Kraeia had spotted a sign with a picture of a band. Lo and behold, in the middle of the poster was a towering black and gold gryphon. The poster was advertising a live performance for later that night. Kraeia was actually on a way to his current job, working as a heavy lifter for an old, cranky smith who constantly complained about everything. After a little deliberation though, he decided that the old smith could damn himself, and that he would stay to see Kelvrin. It wasn't like the chance would ever come up again.

So Kraeia walked inside and leaned up against the wall opposite the stage that was being set up. The show wasn't for an hour or so, but the bar was busy enough that no one noticed him. Between the smoke and the sound, he would have been surprised if anyone had even been aware that he was there at all.

The breeze drifting in from the door pushed the smoke up across the counter and wall on his right, momentarily clearing the view of the stage. They were almost done setting up the lights now, and were starting to clear a space in front of the stage. The lights flashed on and off, illuminating the yellow stained, white walls and the slightly darker ceiling. The bottles on the counter of the bar sparkled momentarily, whisky glittering, before the lights turned off again. And then the band walked in the door.

In the lead was a black and grey wolf, hauling a bass drum on his shirtless back and cymbals in his hands. He was wearing dark grey jeans and a red headband, spiking up the black fur on his head. He glanced back through the door, and barked a quick laugh, eyes glinting, before turning and heading up to the stage.

Following him was a green and black dragon. Black spikes poked up through his white t-shirt, running from the back of his head to the end of his tail. His scales were lighter near his chest and became darker as they approached his extremities. He ducked through the door, tossing a pick into the pocket of his tan cargo pants, and carried a black guitar case up to the stage. He yelled something back to the wolf, causing them to both laugh.

After the dragon came a deep red vixen with scarlet hair, panting slightly. She had a guitar case in both hands and another one strapped across her back, pulling her tight black t-shirt a little tighter. Kraeia felt like his eyes would pop out of his head if didn't look away. She stomped up to the stage, tail swishing violently over her black jeans, and set the cases down. She turned to the dragon and yelled something about "helping the lady carry the goddam equipment," which made the wolf laugh harder and the dragon grin. She shook her head and walked off the stage and out the door.

On her way out she almost tripped over Kelvrin, who caught her with his free hand before she could fall. He set her upright and she nodded to him, running out the door. Kelvrin cocked his head a little, then grinned, setting the large saxophone case he had been carrying in his left hand down. He yelled something out the door and then stepped back.

The final member of the band, a female black panther, walked through the door. As she entered, Kelvrin stepped back and bowed deeply, unfurling his large wings a bit. The panther stopped and considered him for a moment, before lifting a foot and pushing him head over tail onto the floor. The gryphon sat back, looking a little dazed, while on the stage the dragon and the wolf were doing their best to not fall over from snickering.

Kelvrin shook his head and got to his feet, grinning. He brushed off his crimson vest and black pants, and said something to the panther, who was standing with one hand on her hip, the other holding a smaller saxophone case. Her tail flicked back and forth as she spoke calmly to Kelvrin, and then walked away. Whatever she said made the gryphon stop grinning and look after her. Kraeia could see a small smile on her face. He felt sorry for his long lost friend, almost positive that he had lost the small verbal spar.

Kelvrin glanced up to the stage, where the dragon and the wolf had regained their composure, and where looking inquisitively at Kel. The gryphon just shrugged and grabbed his case, making his way to the back of the stage. The dragon and the wolf looked at each other and shrugged, and began to set up their own equipment. The wolf set down the bass drum and the cymbals, and hopped off the stage. He headed out the door, slipping past the vixen who was coming the other way, carrying several instrument stands. She made her way back up to the stage and set all of the stands up, awaiting their various occupants. The vixen and the dragon began to set up the guitars on the stands, while the wolf, returned with several round cases, began to set up the drum set.

The next several minutes were a flurry of activity. Speakers, amps, soundboards, and other equipment made their way up onto the stage. The four finished setting up, and stood back, double checking the stage before declaring it satisfactory. They turned toward each other and spoke quickly, discussing something. The panther rejoined the group while they were speaking, grinning. She waved something at them, and the rest of them started to grin as well. She handed out the little square pieces of paper, one to each of the band members, and gestured towards the door. They all nodded their thanks to her and broke apart.

The vixen, wolf, and dragon head off together, talking excitedly. Kelvrin hung back, watching the others walk out, then turned to the panther and asked a question. She tilted her head, pausing a moment, then turned away, reclaiming her case that was leaning up against the wall. Kelvrin watched her as she ascended the stage, setting her case down beside his, behind the wall of speakers. She reappeared and smiled at the gryphon, hopping down to where he was standing. She spoke softly to him and the left, following the others. Kelvrin turned and watched her go, looking a little crestfallen, paper still clutched in his talons.

He sighed and glanced around the room, scanning the busy patrons, looking for no one in particular. When his eyes finally made there way to the back wall, Kraeia stood up and waved. Kelvrin's eyes went wide with recognition, beak slightly parting in surprise, as Kraeia made his way across the floor to meet his old friend.

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Kraeia lifted his katana from his hip, clearing it in its scabbard. The breeze had turned into a mild wind now, and was still playfully toying with his coat. The sun was steadily making its way towards the horizon, sending the grassland into an early twilight, the landscape taking on a grayish hue.

The origin of the sound was much closer than before. The stomping of metallic feet could be heard clearly in the distance, the sound carrying easily on the wind.

Sounds like body armor, and a lot of it. It almost reminds me of...Kraeia's stomach suddenly turned into a knot. If it was what he was beginning to think it was, things were about to get interesting in a bad way.

The tiger drew his blade, holding it so the flat edge of the back lay flush against his forearm, and sprinted to the next rise. As he neared the top, clanking and the raucious cawing of several Chacri greeted his ears. The noise created by the big, mud-brown birds nearly drowned out the voices of the soldiers on their backs.

Kraeia knelt at the top of the hill behind a large stone, watching the soldiers come forward. There were seven of them total, riding slowly towards the town. Slow was a relative term where Chacri were concerned though. The soldiers were traveling at a pace that would eat up miles effortlessly.

Their leader was a jackal, riding in the middle of the line coming down the opposing hill. His pitch black fur seemed to suck in the light around him and expel it from his glaring red eyes.

To his left and right rode a rag-tag group of hyenas and wolves, clad in various bits and pieces of armor. The mixture gave them all a motley look that added to their barbarity. Only their leader seemed to have decent armor, his body cloaked in a dull gray mesh coat that jingled with each step his mount took. He wore dark leather leggings that ended at the bottom of his calves, leaving his clawed feet bare, claws gripping the stirrups of the saddle.

The group radiated malicious intent. Something in their step and bleak smiles implied a purpose. Kraeia quietly stepped backwards out of sight, and began to run towards the town. He needed to warn Kel of the approaching danger. With a warrior's intuition, the tiger knew that this was not a pleasure visit. The town was definitely in for some trouble.

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