Ridge's Tail.
Writing is hard.
I wasn't sure what was happening or what I should be doing. This was obviously the time to weigh up situations and get the lay of the land. The words didn't look too bad, considering. Sometimes you just had to stay calm and carry on; at least until you had to get something down on paper bark. I was determined to be a first class example of calmness. I would sit and wait for something to say. This was the way to get good in the World. Stay calm and wait.
I concentrated...and waited... calmly... for whatever came next....
I was born in the Fort of Gladrey. I'm sure you will have heard of it. It was famous once; the great Fort of the soldier cats, flags waving in the wind, so many banners springing up like grass. Armour that shone like stars, no-cats planning battles and arguing over positions, scribes making maps and so many blacksmiths making their wonderful weapons created to do terrible things. It was a place full of stories proclaimed from the highest turret to the deepest cellar. I grew up with those stories; brave cats, hero cats, cats who sacrificed everything just to keep us safe, and I believed them all, every one, because I was safe, wasn't I?
I was a wandering kitten; annoying and determined. That was how I met Clear. He seemed old even then.
An old, grouchy cat wearing dirty armour sweeping the corridor. I asked him to tell me stories, demanded a story,
I am often like that, it is a fault, I think. He shook his head, 'There are some things never to be spoken of, war is one of them.' I fear I was very rude then and flicked my tail angrily. 'I know all the stories; the story of the 13 cats at the Condor Pass, the tail of Rolando the Mighty...' Clear snorted and swept faster. 'I wish I were a hero,' I said wistfully.
'A hero? They don't exist.' Clear shook his head, 'Self defence, that's what you should be learning.'
I had never heard anything so stupid in all my life and told him so; 'We have many heroes and battalions here,' I declared, 'Why should I have to learn such things?'
For answer Clear flicked his paw and suddenly I found myself lying on the floor with a broom handle at my throat. Had I been fractionally more stupid I would have had him thrown into the cellars there and then, but even as a kitten I knew sense when I heard it (and the broom handle was powerfully persuasive.)
That was how it started. Every day I would go to the cellar and Clear would teach me rolling and dodging. I asked when I could have a sword so that I could fight properly and he laughed that coughing laugh of his and told me that not getting ground down into bug flour was a good enough start for anybody.
It was early in the Winter when the monsters came to the Fort of Gladrey; creeping and skittering, slithering and crawling, spitting and snarling.
The Watch fell first, battalion after battalion went outside and did not return. We looked to our heroes, only to find most of them had gone before first light, taking their banners and gold with them. I ran to the cellar then, hoping to hide behind the barrels. It was not brave, but I was only half-grown and could've done nothing against the onslaught above.
The cellar door was open. I ran in and found myself face to snout with a huge grey hound, its eyes glinting yellow in the half light. It lowered its shaggy head, and its hot, heavy breath was a burning wind through my fur. I stared at it, small rabbit that I am, and suddenly there was a blood chilling scream of rage and hatred coming from above.
It was Clear.
Eyes like burning hot coals and claws like freshly honed knives, he dropped from the topmost beam right onto the back of the great beast. Sword and knife whirled until the wolf finally bolted for the door in a frenzy of terror, all thoughts of food forgotten.
Clear grabbed me by the shoulders and pushed me down into the sewer drain. 'What are you doing?' I stammered, he scowled, 'Running. Isn't that obvious?' 'But the others..' I whispered. Clear wiped his eyes with a dirty looking piece of cotton and shook his head. 'We run, or we die.'
So we ran, Clear and I, to the mountains and the Village of Cairn Tor.
Fort Gladrey is gone now, nothing left but stories that may or may not be true and I don't care to hear them either way. Real beats fake any day of the year. I have my adventuring and my loyal Twig. Beans now and Clyde who is a second son to us all. Clear is still here. Sometimes he lies up in the branches, pretending to be asleep, but I know he isn't. I'm glad of it. If monsters are coming then Clear will know.'
This is Ridge's Tail.
Hi there!!! This box displays information about a cat after it is generated!
Physical Traits
Basic Data:
Birthday:
Summer 3, Year 7
Age:
Adult (2 Years)
Wind:
North
Pronouns:
they/them
Aspect:
Undiscovered
Origin:
Migrated from Earth
ID Code:
[cat=531772]
Appearance:
Species:
Not-cat
Size:
8 lbs. / 3.63 kg
Fur:
Shorthair
Color:
Smoke Standard
Pattern:
Rosette
White Marks:
Van / C9
Eye Color:
Dark Brown
[ Unknown Genetic String ]
Personality Traits
Held Trinket:
Giant Gilded Owl Feather
[Agility +2]
[Agility +2]
Attributes and Occupations
Day Job:
Clothier (+3 Skill)
Miner Level 1 [40/140 EXP]
Bug Catcher Level 1 [20/140 EXP]
Clothier Level 2 [40/280 EXP]
Bug Catcher Level 1 [20/140 EXP]
Clothier Level 2 [40/280 EXP]
Adventuring Class: Fighter
Fighter Level 1 [26/50 EXP]
Strength
13
3d
+0
Good
Agility
13
3d
+0
Good
Health
12
2d
-1
Average
Finesse
17
4d
+2
Very Good
Cleverness
10
2d
-1
Average
Perception
7
2d
-2
Average
Luck
20
4d
+3
Very Good
Strength
12
2d
-1
Average
Agility
11
2d
-1
Average
Health
12
2d
-1
Average
Finesse
17
4d
+2
Very Good
Cleverness
10
2d
-1
Average
Perception
6
1d
-3
Poor
Luck
19
4d
+3
Very Good
The Mayor is currently providing the following effects to this cat:
+1 Strength, +1 Perception, +1 Luck,
+1 Strength, +1 Perception, +1 Luck,
Relationships
Biography
Currently Wearing: Plain Cotton Hood #1216, Light Hunter's Coat #216, Best Friend White Woolly Bun #1119, Light Hunter's Tail Cozy #218, Light Hunter's Boots #217, Runestone Pendant #335
