Dampra
Hey. This is my first fanfic so please be nice. I don't have a beta so sorry about the mistakes. Any volunteers? This is just a short prologue. Ill try and update as quick as I can. Reviews please?
xxx
He was a babe when tragedy came; This little mouseling was all alone. His life once happy would not be the same, His heart now hard like a pebble stone.
Dampra is his name, My friend, my friend. Vengeance, his game, My friend, my friend.
He hunts high and low, All day and night without rest. Finding this best is hard and slow, But hunting is easy, he's the best.
Dampra is his name, My friend, my friend. Vengeance, his game, My friend, my friend.
Now, his heart is starting to grow, Happiness finding a way. His mouth now smiling with a glow, I hope with all my heart that it will stay.
Dampra is his name, My friend, my friend. Vengeance, his game, My friend, my friend.
But Deathstalker he must find, His family must not be forgotten. Never far from his mind, Deathstalker's heart shriveled and rotten.
Dampra is his name, My friend, my friend. Vengeance, his game, My friend, my friend.
I will be at his side, Never leaving my wonderful friend. This journey will be an amazing ride, My friend-we will be together till the end.
Dampra is his name, My friend, my friend. Vengeance, his game, My friend, my friend.
Dampra's Song, by Breezeberry of Mossflower
Prologue
It was a calm, peaceful autumn night in Mossflower woods. Brown, crisp leaves shed from their trees and floated gently to the ground, soundlessly. The air was still and quiet refreshing, as the odd leaf or so was blown lovingly along, making it a calm, peaceful and beautiful scene. But all was not going to stay calm and peaceful. An old log hut lay in the midst of two old oak trees, which could be there been there for centuries on end. The hut belonged to a mouse family. Troda and his wife Shralle, with their two offspring, Chalum, a young maid and Dampra, a three seasoned old mouseling.
'Mmm! It smells lovely father!'
'Thankee Chalum, it's an old family recipe.'
'Aye and someday we'll teach you that recipe,' Shralle added, as the young Dampra on her knee played with her pale dress.
'Really? Oh I do love to cook! I shall cook it for you all, too. When he's older, may I teach Dampra? He'd be like………an assistant! Would you like that?' The mouse babe twitched his small whiskers and clamped his pudgy paws together in contempt.
'Me likee! It be fun!'
Suddenly, Troda stopped cooking. The hair on the nape of his neck bristled. His warrior instinct purred in his ear that something was not alright.
'Troda, are you alright?' the mouse wife asked, feeling his uncomfortablnes. But he was only half listening.
'Hmm? Oh, ah, fine. I'm just gonna take a look outside, I'll be back soon,' he said as he slipped out the door, armed with the blunt cooking knife he'd been cooking with.
'Mother, wots wrong?' Chalum asked, her voice going squeaky with fear.
'Nothing sweetheart,' Shralle heard a sickening thud! This made her heart split into two, making a wound that would never recover. Quickly, handing Dampra over to her daughter, she babbled
'Chalum, take Dampra and hide under the table. Do not make a sound ok? Take this,' she rummaged through a cupboard and pulled out a sword, cover and all.
'Quickly now, go!' Shralle's normal calm, soothing voice was now high and panic stricken. She pushed the two under the table just before a pure black fox barged through the door, with a curved cutlass in paw, fresh, red blood dripping off, making droplet marks on the floor. He held the cutlass to her throat as he hissed in a hoarse voice,
'Where are your valuables, mouse?'
'We-we don't have any!' was Shralle's reply, as she fought back tears, desperately. The fox gave a rasp chuckle, as his silky tail swished to and fro, as if it had a life of its own.
'Well, well, wot do we have here? Another brave mousey, just like the one I slew back there?' This started a new flood of tears.
'Don't you know that brave mouseys get themselves killed!' he swung his deadly cutlass, and another life it took.
'Nnnooooo!' shrieked Chalum as she dashed from under the table, leaving Dampra and the sword under the table out of view. Only then did she realize what she forgot, but if only she thought of it seconds sooner. Swish! The killer wiped the cutlass on Chalum's limp form as he whispered.
'Huh, stupid mice, bet now they regret their lies towards Deathstalker. Right, you lot, get what you want, but anything valuable or vittles go to me, got it?' He then marched out the door as three score of vermin piled into the small hut, aiming to get the best stuff. Dampra sank lower into the corner, clutching the sword so tight that his tiny claws made small dents in the hilt. Fortunately, the vermin soon left, smug comments and boasts of their plunder rang in the small mouse's ears. Dampra waited awhile, and then hobbled out from under the table. Standing over his family's now still forms, he straitened his back and fixed the sword onto his back, (as he had seen his father do when he used to go hunting) with now dried eyes. With that he made an oath,
'I may be wittle, but I'll get 'e some day, Deathstalker, I may 'e pay!' little did he realize that this would become his life's purpose.
C'mon! Review pleeeeeeeeeasse?