The Sweet War
Posted: Wed Dec 01, 2010 4:06 am
I felt like writing something about drugs, cat people, and war with giant rhino monsters, so... yeah. I'm too bent out of shape to go into more detail right now, so I'll just go right to the story.
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Once, when the Black Moon shone over the planet, the tropical lands of Ylsarran underwent the most drastic transformation of any other land. The surface sand on the beaches turned to sweet, sweet sugar. A special sugar that was highly addictive. Even the flora changed; the once bitter fruit bearing trees now bearing hard pods filled with sugar crystals within sweet pulp. When the feline-esque inhabitants of this land discovered this the morning after, they were amazed. What they didn’t realize was the side-effects of what they now call ‘sweetsand’ and ‘moonfruit’ and how drastically this new food item would change their future. Due to its addictive properties, it was highly sought after.
Violently sought after, in fact. Ylsarran was in constant conflict with the two surrounding provinces; they all wanted the addictive sugar for themselves. They would often battle in the flat, hot desert of Iyarra, just along the border between western Labbhan, eastern Gyaro, and northern Ylsarran.
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A warrior stepped into the War Chief’s tent, a map rolled up underneath his armor-clad arm. It was obvious he was still young; mid teens, perhaps. His fuzzy high-set ears lacked the tufts of fur at the very end that all adult Katsen had. Bells attached to the tent flaps alerted the War Chief of an arrival, and the muscular, older Katsen War Chief looked up from his desk.
“Y’Haro,†The chief began to speak to Y’Haro, the warrior who had just entered. “Tell me, have the scouts returned yet?â€
“Yes, T’Yar, the scouts have returned.â€
“Excellent. What is that you’ve got there?†T’Yar arched his brow as he eyed the rolled parchment. It was too big to be a letter. A map, perhaps? Before he could demand it to be given to him, Y’Haro spread it across the desk, revealing a map of the Iyarra desert. He then began pointing out three different dots on the map
“The Labbhanian camps are here, here, and here. They’re heavily armed and have trained war beasts.â€
T’Yar knitted his bushy brows hidden beneath his ornate helmet.
“That’s unusual of them. What kind of war beasts?†He inquired.
“Karrows… Three big ones.â€
T’Yar’s face hardly betrayed any of the fear he was truly feeling. Karrows were large, quadruped creatures with thick, silver leathery hide and three massive horns; one on their head, and one jutting out the side of each of their shoulders. A herd of them on a stampede could raze entire towns, not to mention little Katsen war camps.
“All right… What about the Gyaronians?â€
Y’Haro pointed to two spots which weren’t too far from the Labbhanian camps.
“They’re here and here. Poorly organized and pathetic as always.â€
T’Yar let out a relieved sigh. They’re never anything to worry about, he thought. Those fat flop-eared humans are too lazy to ever hire proper warriors.
“So, how will we take down the karrows? Arrows will hardly penetrate their hide, and it’d be too dangerous to get close enough with swords.†Y’Haro’s ears drooped, a bit discouraged at his own words. The chief chuckled, stood, and stepped around the desk to pat the young warrior’s shoulder.
“Y’Haro, I will think of something. Don’t sweat those young paws of yours.â€
He gave him a warm smile and pressed something into the boy’s hand. Y’Haro looked down and his eyes widened. Four gold coins, shimmering brilliantly.
“Four kur? I could eat for a week with this much!â€
“Exactly. Go home. Put some meat on those scraggly bones, all right?â€
It was then that he realized just what the chief was saying. He was telling him to go home. Go home?! After months of warrior training?!
“B-But T’Yar! I want to fight! I need to fight! If I go home without even slaying a single foe, I’ll be the laughing stock of the entire town!â€
“Haro… Don’t take this the wrong way, but you wouldn’t last five seconds out there on the battlefield.â€
The young warrior’s jaw practically hit the floor. Normally only family or close friends would exclude the prefix. It showed familiarity; closeness. He knew the chief was particularly kind to him, but never expected that. Although T’Yar was like the father he never had, he wouldn’t dare call him Yar. It would be disrespectful. It’d be like calling a king one of those nicknames one’s parents gives them as a baby, like how his mother always called Y’Haro ‘sugarwhiskers’ or ‘sweetpaw’ in front of all his friends. So. Embarrassing. He knew better than to try and convince T’Yar to let him stay; that kat, when he’s decided something, will stick to it like a mussel sticks to a rock, or like kitsen stick to their mother. Impossible to move.
“… Yes, T’Yar… I’ll leave right away…â€
Y’Haro left the tent and walked across the campsite; through the bustling crowd of excited fellow warriors, ignoring their chattering and socializing. Nothing could stop a Katsen from talking; their race was rather known for their limitless jabbering. Y’Haro wasn’t much of a talker, though. People tended to avoid him. He could never understand why, and it filled him with a constant sadness. It was a beautiful day, though. Not a cloud in the sky. The sand shone brightly, reflecting the summer sun... How could anyone be so depressed on a day like this? It always seemed to be summer, especially in the desert areas of Ylsarran. Most people would love this land! Who wouldn’t adore the warmth, the beaches, and the scantily clad women?! Not Y’Haro, it seemed. The sun burned his skin and his astonishingly blue eyes, so he always had to dress in thick protective clothes which were miserably hot inside. So really, he burned either way. At least it was better than peeling dead skin off every day.
Ey Buh’Haro, are you some kinda scrawny vampire, hiding from the sun? Ha! The other kids would say. ‘Buh’ was a common Katsen insult amongst the younger inhabitants. Every day he would have to put up with the constant heckling, but not so much at the war camp. But noooo, now he had to go back to his home, alone, in one of the many beachside towns scattered across the province. At least his mother was kind to him and would be overjoyed to see him back.
<del>____________________________________________________________________</del>
Once, when the Black Moon shone over the planet, the tropical lands of Ylsarran underwent the most drastic transformation of any other land. The surface sand on the beaches turned to sweet, sweet sugar. A special sugar that was highly addictive. Even the flora changed; the once bitter fruit bearing trees now bearing hard pods filled with sugar crystals within sweet pulp. When the feline-esque inhabitants of this land discovered this the morning after, they were amazed. What they didn’t realize was the side-effects of what they now call ‘sweetsand’ and ‘moonfruit’ and how drastically this new food item would change their future. Due to its addictive properties, it was highly sought after.
Violently sought after, in fact. Ylsarran was in constant conflict with the two surrounding provinces; they all wanted the addictive sugar for themselves. They would often battle in the flat, hot desert of Iyarra, just along the border between western Labbhan, eastern Gyaro, and northern Ylsarran.
____________________________________________________________________
A warrior stepped into the War Chief’s tent, a map rolled up underneath his armor-clad arm. It was obvious he was still young; mid teens, perhaps. His fuzzy high-set ears lacked the tufts of fur at the very end that all adult Katsen had. Bells attached to the tent flaps alerted the War Chief of an arrival, and the muscular, older Katsen War Chief looked up from his desk.
“Y’Haro,†The chief began to speak to Y’Haro, the warrior who had just entered. “Tell me, have the scouts returned yet?â€
“Yes, T’Yar, the scouts have returned.â€
“Excellent. What is that you’ve got there?†T’Yar arched his brow as he eyed the rolled parchment. It was too big to be a letter. A map, perhaps? Before he could demand it to be given to him, Y’Haro spread it across the desk, revealing a map of the Iyarra desert. He then began pointing out three different dots on the map
“The Labbhanian camps are here, here, and here. They’re heavily armed and have trained war beasts.â€
T’Yar knitted his bushy brows hidden beneath his ornate helmet.
“That’s unusual of them. What kind of war beasts?†He inquired.
“Karrows… Three big ones.â€
T’Yar’s face hardly betrayed any of the fear he was truly feeling. Karrows were large, quadruped creatures with thick, silver leathery hide and three massive horns; one on their head, and one jutting out the side of each of their shoulders. A herd of them on a stampede could raze entire towns, not to mention little Katsen war camps.
“All right… What about the Gyaronians?â€
Y’Haro pointed to two spots which weren’t too far from the Labbhanian camps.
“They’re here and here. Poorly organized and pathetic as always.â€
T’Yar let out a relieved sigh. They’re never anything to worry about, he thought. Those fat flop-eared humans are too lazy to ever hire proper warriors.
“So, how will we take down the karrows? Arrows will hardly penetrate their hide, and it’d be too dangerous to get close enough with swords.†Y’Haro’s ears drooped, a bit discouraged at his own words. The chief chuckled, stood, and stepped around the desk to pat the young warrior’s shoulder.
“Y’Haro, I will think of something. Don’t sweat those young paws of yours.â€
He gave him a warm smile and pressed something into the boy’s hand. Y’Haro looked down and his eyes widened. Four gold coins, shimmering brilliantly.
“Four kur? I could eat for a week with this much!â€
“Exactly. Go home. Put some meat on those scraggly bones, all right?â€
It was then that he realized just what the chief was saying. He was telling him to go home. Go home?! After months of warrior training?!
“B-But T’Yar! I want to fight! I need to fight! If I go home without even slaying a single foe, I’ll be the laughing stock of the entire town!â€
“Haro… Don’t take this the wrong way, but you wouldn’t last five seconds out there on the battlefield.â€
The young warrior’s jaw practically hit the floor. Normally only family or close friends would exclude the prefix. It showed familiarity; closeness. He knew the chief was particularly kind to him, but never expected that. Although T’Yar was like the father he never had, he wouldn’t dare call him Yar. It would be disrespectful. It’d be like calling a king one of those nicknames one’s parents gives them as a baby, like how his mother always called Y’Haro ‘sugarwhiskers’ or ‘sweetpaw’ in front of all his friends. So. Embarrassing. He knew better than to try and convince T’Yar to let him stay; that kat, when he’s decided something, will stick to it like a mussel sticks to a rock, or like kitsen stick to their mother. Impossible to move.
“… Yes, T’Yar… I’ll leave right away…â€
Y’Haro left the tent and walked across the campsite; through the bustling crowd of excited fellow warriors, ignoring their chattering and socializing. Nothing could stop a Katsen from talking; their race was rather known for their limitless jabbering. Y’Haro wasn’t much of a talker, though. People tended to avoid him. He could never understand why, and it filled him with a constant sadness. It was a beautiful day, though. Not a cloud in the sky. The sand shone brightly, reflecting the summer sun... How could anyone be so depressed on a day like this? It always seemed to be summer, especially in the desert areas of Ylsarran. Most people would love this land! Who wouldn’t adore the warmth, the beaches, and the scantily clad women?! Not Y’Haro, it seemed. The sun burned his skin and his astonishingly blue eyes, so he always had to dress in thick protective clothes which were miserably hot inside. So really, he burned either way. At least it was better than peeling dead skin off every day.
Ey Buh’Haro, are you some kinda scrawny vampire, hiding from the sun? Ha! The other kids would say. ‘Buh’ was a common Katsen insult amongst the younger inhabitants. Every day he would have to put up with the constant heckling, but not so much at the war camp. But noooo, now he had to go back to his home, alone, in one of the many beachside towns scattered across the province. At least his mother was kind to him and would be overjoyed to see him back.