Hello Readers,
Fair warning, this story will not be updated weekly like my other stories so expect sporatic updates. Also this is a much heavier OC story, as well as a Fantasy AU. Hope you enjoy and criticism always welcome!
-CG
Sheri watched the prisoner carefully, shifting uncomfortably on the wooden bench of the wagon as it rocked back and forth. The canvas covering offered some protection from the midday heat as Leonis continued to pull the wagon. She heard her two companions speaking and laughing, but she would not be included in their discussion. The journey was to be quick, two days travel between Deer's Brook and Zoo City. Simply transport the prisoner to be tried for his crimes and then get paid.
The procyon bit her lip as guilt crept into her heart. Sheri didn't want the job, but she needed it for her family. A blight had destroyed half the wheat yield on their farm and if they didn't have enough saved, they could starve this upcoming winter. As guilty as she felt, she equally glad that the prisoner had already been detained so there had been no need for violence.
The raccoon's cotton robes were restricted by the rusted breastplate strapped to her chest. She clenched the wooden handle of her mace with one hairless paw. The head of it a smooth ball that had never been tested against an opponent. In her other paw she desperately clutched the holy symbol of Eldath, the quiet one. It was a wooden amulet hanging on a hemp rope that had been carved into a leaf with the form of a droplet of water in the center. The amulet gave the procyon peace of mind. Their mission would soon be over.
The prisoner was sitting on the bench opposite of her, shackled to the floor. His head lolled side to side as his eyes remained closed. The heavy steel clamps around his wrists and the metal muzzle attached to his face spoke of the danger that the Weasel posed. Still the Cleric was conflicted. The teachings of Eldath emphasized the need for peace, both inner and outer, and the mammal in chains looked under siege. The dirty, tattered rags he wore barely covered his lithe form. The white fur that extended down his muzzle and disappeared under what could barely be classified as a shirt looked so dirty that it almost blended into the rest of his brown fur. His long, what once may have been luscious, tail was matted and just as filthy as the rest of him. He looked thin, close to malnourished, as the jailers had to use the smallest cuffs for him. If not for one detail, Sheri may have believed the mustela framed for his crimes.
The prisoner opened his eyes, and blood red pupils landed on the Cleric. He closed them and rolled his head around his neck before focusing back on Sheri. The Weasel stared unblinking at the female, features blank to the point of looking bored. It was the same expression he wore at the beginning of their journey, and he seemed determined to wear it all the way to the gallows. She had tried to speak with the prisoner the night before, but it had seemed all for naught…
Leonis laughed boisterously, slapping a paw heartily onto his padded knee. "That is hilarious!" roared the Lion, "how'd you get outta that mess!?"
Zachariah, a brown Hare, continued to smirk as he leaned forward. "I'mma fast one, that's how! Best part?" The feline motioned for lapine to continue. "It was Paladin Hopps!"
Leonis eyes went wide, "No!"
Zachariah's smirk turned into a broad grin, "Yep, right up in the barn loft." He brushed his knuckles against his emerald green tunic, "She's not too bad."
Leonis laughed once more, but Sheri continued to frown. The raccoon didn't trust either male, and their decision to provide stories of trysts around the campfire was one she wouldn't be a part of. They had stopped for the night to set up camp. The party had moved to the side of the road, each eating from their own provisions and arrangements. Still Sheri had heard stories of worse mammals to travel with.
The Lion's massive stature was only matched by his hubris. His size allowed for the feline to pull the wagon to its longsword and breastplate he wore were riddled with dents and scratches, all proof of past victories. His trousers appeared to be lizard hide, with different pieces of metal plates sewn onto vulnerable areas. The bracers on his forearms were etched with different symbols that Sheri recognized as magical, but what for she had no idea. It was because of his size and experience that Leonis was given the keys to the prisoner.
The Hare wore no visible armor, only the green tunic and black trousers. His weapon of choice was a thin rapier, with a yellow braid attached to the hilt. While the lapine was adept at swordplay, there's no question in the female's mind that his most dangerous weapon was his smile.
Sheri glanced at her own equipment. An old, rusted breastplate used by her father during the last Great War and a cast aside mace that a blacksmith had sold cheap as a failure by an apprentice. The raccoon's paw unconsciously touched the amulet around her neck. Her training as a healer no way complete, but the need for coin pushed her to leave the Followers of Eldath. The only reason she was allowed to join in the first place was for the request of a Holy mammal for fear of the prisoner.
"What about you cleric," Zachariah said pointedly, "You ever take a roll in the hay?" Sheri bristled and glanced away. The Hare huffed, "Thought so."
"Leave the poor girl alone," Leonis gently chided, "She's barely old enough to have been cut from her mother's strings."
"More like her mother's teet!" quipped the lapine. Sheri glared at Zachariah, but didn't say anything. He sneered confidently, "What? You gonna say something?" She looked away. "Tch, figured. Let me know when you want a male to warm your bed...or better yet, your bedroll!"
The raccoon blushed as she stood, ignoring the two as she stormed off. She heard Leonis say something, but didn't catch procyon stomped towards the wagon parked just ahead of their impromptu camp. Neither of the male's had checked on the captive, and Sheri hadn't looked in on him since they stopped for the night.
The journey was quick, and soon the Cleric was pulling herself into the covered wagon. The raccoon's night vision allowed her to see an awake Weasel staring at her with his red eyes. His gaze silently followed her as she sat across from him. The female settled onto the familiar bench and straightened out her robe.
She smiled at the prisoner, "Hello, how are you?" He remained silent. "Are you comfortable?" Silence. The procyon's ears tilted back, a burning question on the tip of her tongue. "Did you...really kill those mammals?" Silence. "If you…" the Cleric's words began to fail her, "...want peace. I can help you."
The Weasel remained silent, but his gaze slowly shifted to the opening of the wagon.
"So...you like'em like that." Zachariah snarked, "I can see the appeal."
Sheri jumped, paw clutching her amulet tightly. She turned to see the smug Hare grinning mischievously at her.
"How bout when this is all over…" the lapine started, lowering his voice, "...you can chain me up! Who knows...I might enjoy it."
The raccoon sputtered in mixture of rage and embarrassment as the Hare laughed and sauntered away.
Sheri startled awake, rocked to sleep on the wagon's journey. She looked about frantically, but nothing had changed. The raccoon sighed in relief. The last thing she needed was a joke from Zachariah about her sleeping on the job. The prisoner's eyes were once again closed, so the procyon decided to stick her head out to see where they were.
A canopy of trees shaded the wagon as it rolled along the road. The sounds of birds singing brought a smile to the Cleric's muzzle. It was a beautiful day, and if Sheri had been home she may have skipped her duties and lie under an old Oak that stood on the corner of her family's farm. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Something smacked her in the nose. The raccoon opened her eyes to a blue flower bulb sitting on the top of her muzzle. She frowned as she grasped it and looked closer. It was a deep, almost purple, blue with eight petals that gave the shape of a bell.
Sheri wracked her brain for what the flower could be, when she touched her amulet. It came in a flash. The raccoon gasped and tossed the poisonous plant away. "Demon's Helmet!" she hissed, wide eyed and beginning to panic. The Cleric scampered to the front of the interior of the wagon. "Leonis! Zachariah! There's danger about!"
"What's that?" called the Hare, "You need me to hold you?"
"Quiet Zachariah!" scolded the feline, "And Sheri I do not see any-"
A whizzing sound cut off the Lion as an arrow pierced through the canvas, missing the Cleric's head by mere inches. Sheri screamed and crouched low.
"Stay put Sheri! Zachariah with me!" The raccoon heard the drawing of swords "I shall not die here!" A mighty roar echoed through the air and shook the procyon to her core.
"Let us dance!" Zachariah cried out
The sound of battle erupted, as steel met steel. There was snarling, cries of pain and the ripping of flesh. Sheri scrambled to her forgotten mace and clutched it desperately to her as she remained crouched. Tears began to fall as she sobbed uncontrollably. She flinched at the sound of clashing metal, only to realize it was the clanking of chain links. The procyon looked over to the prisoner.
The Weasel was pulling desperately on the chain, but to no avail. His eyes landed on the Cleric and he motioned for her to come closer. She didn't didn't budge. Frantically he started motioning and pulling on the chains, but she wouldn't move. The mustela stopped, shoulders slumped and breathing heavy.
It was only then that the raccoon noticed the lack of noise. There was no battle, no roars or screams, no birds or bugs or anything, just complete silence. It was broken by heavy paw steps. Slowly the mammal moved to the back of the wagon.
Sheri whimpered, covering her muzzle with a paw as tears drenched her cheeks. This wasn't how the mission was supposed to go. It was supposed to be easy, just pick up the prisoner and ride back. There were no warnings of ambushes, or allies, or anything for that matter! All the raccoon could hope for now was they let her be once they took what they wanted. Her thoughts were interrupted by feeling of electricity in the air and her fur standing on end. She glanced fearfully to the prisoner, eyes widening in terror at what she saw.
The Weasel's body was tense and his hard gaze stared directly at the closed flaps of the wagon. What scared the Sheri the most was his open paws as between them danced what appeared to be black liquid lightning. It bounced from one digit to the next, crackling and flowing all at the same time silently. The Cleric had never seen magic like this.
An axe slipped between the canvas and slowly parted the side. Sheri saw the weapon wielder, a black Wolf dressed in black. She screamed. There was an explosion and the wagon tilted left as the canvas near the back was ripped to shreds. Sheri screamed again as she fell to the hard ground. She gasped as the wagon turned and landed over top of her, the sides keeping the vehicle from crushing the small mammals. The raccoon sobbed and hyperventilated, curling into herself and clutching her amulet desperately.
The sound of metal clanging caused her to cringe, but this time she recognized the sound of the prisoner pulling on his chains. As he kept pulling, the splintering of wood echoed in the enclosed space. Finally the wood gave and a loud crack caused Sheri's ears to flick back. She glanced hesitantly to see the prisoner lying on his back panting with a piece of wood lying on his chest and daylight spilling through. He groaned as he turned on his side and crawled to the back of the overturned wagon.
"Wait!" cried out Sheri, "You can't leave!" The Weasel ignored her and continued to crawl away. The raccoon frantically looked for her weapon, but couldn't see it anywhere. She swallowed dryly before crawling on her paws and knees to the exit. The Cleric sniffed and wiped at her eyes with her now dirty sleeves. It didn't seem appropriate to try and apprehend a mammal while crying. Finally she made it to the end and sighed in relief as a breeze swept across her whiskers.
Sheri straightened up and brushed off her robe, it was stained with dirt. The raccoon gasped when her gaze fell on a scorched corpse. A whiff of burnt flesh and fur caused bile to rise into the Cleric's throat, but she pushed it back down. She covered her nose as she looked away, ignoring the dead lupine and walking towards the front of the wagon. A scene of death and carnage awaited her.
The procyon diverted her eyes from each new corpse that appeared. Three dead Wolves, all with pained expressions and different wounds, laid around the cart. They all wore black tunics and trousers with a black cloak. Two had multiple blood soaked pinprick sized holes in their front. The third had Leonis' longsword skewered through him. Her eyes darted about until she saw the Weasel standing over a familiar figure. "Zachariah!" The mustela looked over his shoulder when she yelled, but turned back to the prone Hare. Sheri rushed to the pair, and gasped in horror.
Zachariah was panting, his eyes rolling about in his head as he clung desperately to life. His arms were sprawled out and a droplet of blood ran down the corner of his mouth. A large gash ran across his waist, innards exposed and blood flowed freely from the wound. At the sound of the raccoon, his gaze locked onto her. He smiled weakly, "Don't think we can get together now." The Cleric moved to heal, but was stopped by a raised paw from the mustela. Zachariah chuckled breathlessly, "Yeah, no healings gonna help me...did you kill the Wolf bastard who got me?" The Weasel nodded. "Good...could you do me one last favor?" The hare reached fruitlessly for his rapier, grimacing in pain as it was just out of reach. "Please!" he cried as tears formed, "Kill me with my sword!"
The Weasel nodded solemnly and bent down to pick up the sword. He paused and leaned over the Hare, unbuttoning his tunic and pulling it back.
Zachariah chuckled quietly, "Can't you wait for my death before robbing me?"
The prisoner clasped the rapier with both paws and positioned inches above the lapine's heart. He waited.
The Hare began to hyperventilate, pinching his eyes while tears flowed freely. "I don't wanna die," he whimpered, chin quivering in fear. Sheri bent down and grasped his right paw with her own. He looked at her as she touched her amulet. The lapine's breathing slowed and his eyes glazed over. A peaceful smile stretched across his snout. Lazily he looked to the Weasel and nodded. The mustela plunged the rapier through Zachariah's heart. He gasped, eyes wide in shock and back arching, before sighing and falling back down.
Sheri sniffled and looked towards the prisoner, only to find the sword dropped and him moving on. The raccoon kissed the back of the Hare's paw before standing and following the mustela. The shock of seeing Leonis' lifeless corpse was present, but dulled after Zachariah. The Lion was bent over a dead Wolf, paws wrapped around the throat of the lupine. An axe was sticking out of the top of his skull, handle high and grimace on his muzzle. The procyon wanted to look away, but morbid curiosity kept her gaze on the Weasel.
He was patting down the Lion, looking for something. The mustela squeezed underneath the large mammal and disappeared. It wasn't long before he reappeared with something jangling in his paws. It was the keyring. The Weasel lifted the key, unlocking the left cuff, and then the right. Finally he raised the keys and unlocked the constricting muzzle. He sighed in relief and rubbed his face, smoothing out his fur. The wind picked up, the smell of blood wafting in the breeze as he lifted his nose high into the air. He breathed deeply.
Sheri clutched her amulet with both paws, shaking as the now free prisoner opened his eyes once more. She let out a squeak and shrank as his gaze landed on her. The raccoon tried to speak, but no words came out. He stepped closer to Cleric, his tail twitching with each step. When he was less than a step away, eyes locked onto Sheri's, he spoke in a raspy voice.
"Leave me the rutt alone."
Eldath is not my original creation. I found it on ForgottenRealms wiki and she fit perfectly for the Sheri I imagined.