Chapter 1: Saccharine Smile

In times past and tales of old, there was once an isle known as Sampetra. There dwelt a tyrant ruler, Emperor Ublaz Mad-Eyes, who sought after six pink pearls of great luster, the Tears Of All Oceans. But that is a story for another time, my friends. What matters for now is, after the...deposition, shall we say, of Emperor Ublaz, the Isle of Sampetra was left to ruin, its forests aflame and its remaining inhabitants left to fend for themselves against cannibalistic lizards and their own lust for dominance.

Now, several weeks later, as the war began to sway in favor of the rats, a great fleet appeared over the western horizon. With black sails flowing in the wind, each emblazoned with a different icy blue symbol, they cast the perfect image of intimidation. The top decks were full to almost overflowing with all manner of creatures; rats, weasels, and stoats, yes, but also squirrels, shrews, hedgehogs, and otters. At the bow of the lead ship, her body wreathed with steam and her spikes growing more icy spikes of their own, stood a hedgehog maid. Her attire spoke clearly to her corsair nature; indeed, she was none other than Gelida Frostmane, the Ice Queen!

As the ships drew closer, all fighting on the island slowly ceased, as rat and monitor alike turned their sights to the fleet. As the lead ship made contact with the beach, the hedgehog maid, who had by this point inched her way to the front of the massive, frosty figurehead, now jumped lightly, letting her previous momentum carry her off the bow entirely. With practically no visible effort, she landed on her feet. She strutted forward, a vibrant smile on her face, and breathed in deeply of the smoke-filled air. Letting out her breath with a sigh of somewhat misplaced contentment, she turned back to the ship and shouted, "Come on down, boys; we've found a home!" At once, the decks were alive with energy, as seabeasts and corsairs leapt out, onto the beach or into the water, and surged forward.

The previous residents had never seen anything like it: the fleet's crew must have numbered several thousand, of all species, and they all seemed incredibly eager to be here. Not one of the creatures who would normally be goodbeasts looked even the slightest bit unhappy to be part of the crew, though they were all clearly pirates. As they set out across the island, several groups sang shanties and ballads, with none really bothering what any other group was singing. They spread out around the former war-wagers, gathering them together and leading them back to the beach.

"Well, well, what have we here? Former pirates, on my new island?" Gelida chuckled lightly, a melodious sound that made the heart flutter. "Tell me, who among you would like to be with a crew again?"

As the former searats began to realize what this meant, a cheer went up through their ranks. Gelida merely smiled and nodded. "That's what I thought. Well, if that is settled, then let me take a look at my new land." She turned and began to stroll inland, taking her time and looking around. As she passed a group of her crew, she paused, as if remembering something, and turned to speak to them. "Oh, and get rid of the monitors. They are of no use to me."

Seasons passed, and Sampetra returned to its former, dubious glory. Several shipments of lumber were delivered overseas, allowing the isle to rebuild once more. A grand port town rose up around the western coastline, with shops trading in every good and service, illicit or not. Traders bartered stolen goods, slaves and carnal delights of every kind, and once more Sampetra was a pirate port.

Yet all was not as it was before. The Ice Queen, whom time had neglected to age, had spread her frosty influence across the island, turning it from a lush tropical climate to one of ice and snow. This did little to dissuade pirates from porting at the island, but it did serve as a reminder of her cold, dangerous nature. From her palace of ice, and other building implements, I assure you, she ruled with a firm paw. Though her crews were inspired by her, and would not leave her service for the world, none dared cross her, for fear of becoming another statue in her great hall.

Of those, she did not have many. Two were monitors, frozen solid for Gelida's amusement in various poses of distress. After all, they hardly would have served her well, considering their cold-blooded nature. These stood on either side of the hall, within alcoves built for their display. Around their feet stood five more frosty cadavers: a rat, two squirrels, a weasel, and a mouse. For the most part, they bore expressions of abject horror, as one would expect from beasts so horribly executed.

The mouse, however, seemed almost triumphant in his expression, as though his icy immobility were nothing more than a slap on the wrist. Some unnerved guard had taken the liberty of turning him to face the wall, and Gelida was somewhat reluctant to turn him around again. Though she would never admit it (and, in fact, the frozen weasel was the one responsible), she felt insecure whenever she saw the mouse's expression. But he was frozen now, and there was no way his mere expression could harm her. And so, though it unnerved her to be anywhere near his corpse, she sat atop her throne, smugly satisfied with her victory over him.

It came to pass one frosty day that Gelida grew bored. She had once heard of Redwall, and the glorious feasts held within, and decided on the coming month's entertainment. She waved her paw, beckoning somebeast from the shadows beside her throne. "Mako, come here."

A badger stepped forward, one with grey fur emblazoned with two white stripes. He was short for a badger, in that he only stood head and shoulders taller than her; indeed, he was shorter than most foxes and otters. "Mako," said Gelida, "it has been brought to my attention that there is a place, not far to the east, where creatures feast daily on the most wondrous of meals. Would you be a dear and, shall we say, 'retrieve' some of those cooks, that we may have such a feast here?"

The badger bowed deeply. "Yes, my queen," he said in a deep voice, before sinking back into the shadows. You see, Mako was of the Marl, a strange breed of creatures. Their fur bore a unique quality, in that it could shift in color to adapt to its surroundings. This made those creatures of the Marl exceptionally stealthy, capable of sinking into any shadow as if they were not there.

Gelida sank into her chair. Soon, her feast would come, and she would dine like the royalty she was. It was good to be queen!

A dark figure lumbered through the forest. Standing a few paws taller than a badger, he was clad in black plate mail from head to footpaw, disguising his form entirely. Over his back was slung a massive sword, of the same shade of black as his armor. He seemed to be some sort of knight, but no coat of arms or helmet plume denoted his affiliation.

Now, in this region dwelt a group of tribal weasels, part of the regional mega-tribe known as the Flitchaye. And as the knight progressed through the forest, they began to grow restless. Who was this stranger? Why did he trespass in the lands of the Flitchaye? And why did the noxious gasses in the air have no effect on him?

This would not do; he had to be driven off. A weasel who took the name Ginko, when he felt he needed one, stepped out of the shadows and stood before the knight; several of his kin slithered into being behind him. The immense figure stopped and looked down at the sudden obstruction in his path. Breathing in heavily, Ginko began the traditional call of the Flitchaye:

"Flitch-aye! Flitch-aye! Flitch-aye! Flitch"*whump*

The figure straightened again, removing his fist from the splatter that used to be Ginko. The other Flitchaye gasped, then began to yowl and scream as they charged the knight. Calmly, as if he had all the time in the world, he reached up, closing one paw around the handle of his great sword, and drew it into a low horizontal swing. The flat of the blade made contact with the first Flitchaye in his path, smashing him into the next and so on, and sent the entire first line of weasels, about seven beasts in total, flying off into the bushes.

The rest stepped back, somewhat less confident; then the figure slammed his fist straight into the ground, causing a small tremor that knocked several of the weasels off their feet. Straightening once more, the figure began walking in his original path, breaking the skulls of those Flitchaye that could not evade his footpaws in time. Those that survived his attack made no attempt to stop him; whomever this strange warrior was, he had them hopelessly outclassed.

Alright, let's get this over with. This is my first story, please rate and review, blah blah blah, something about grammar. I'd love to hear some criticism, but keep in mind that I have my own unique plan for this story, so don't attack the stranger bits (you'll know them when you see them). I'd like to remain lore-friendly, but keep in mind that the Dwemer were lore-friendly in TES, and they're still about as far from the setting as you could get.

That being said, if you see anything that looks out of place otherwise, like a poorly-worded bit of dialogue, or an inconsistent character, let me know. I definitely made a mistake, and if it hasn't been found yet, that just means it's well hidden. However, I would ask that you point out such inconsistencies to me via PM, as I may have made them intentionally. I like providing hints to clue people in that they've been misled.

EDIT: Minor revisions, fixed Flitchaye scene. Also, after reading the rules again, I'm going to be going back through and removing the song lyrics at the start of those chapters that have them. If the song itself is integral to the chapter's content, I'll keep the title, because those aren't copyrighted, and credit the original artist so you readers can find them and listen to what was running through my head at the time.

Credit to The Donots for the song title.