It was late, so late the adults in camp had gone to sleep. Or inside, at least. Mages may know what adults were up to once they closed their doors to the prying eyes of others.
But that wasn't the concern of the four rats leaving through a crack in the wall of a yellow vardo. Their only concern was to not be seen by any who might stand in the way of their nightly adventures.
Because everyone - safe maybe those too frightened of rodents to look a second time - would take a closer look at these particular four rats. The group was led by a fast one that was almost completely devoid of hair. Right behind followed a smaller rat with hair as white as snow and, running along behind those two, were two rats with the usual greyish brown colour. One quite regular sized, the other one the kind ten inch long rat most cats and dogs would run away from. One missing leg only added to its fearsome appearance.
It had been long since the four friends had roamed town together. So much had happened. Before last summer, the big mean dark elf Rieron had killed the bald rat who was formerly known as Two-scars-on-the-nose. Then, a few weeks ago, a miracle happened! The friendly human-child-sized-elf-like-creature Téide had made Two-scars-on-the-nose return from the death. Even though his hair still had to grow back and the two characteristic scars on his nose had disappeared, the scent was unmistakably his. There was no doubt this was the same rat. But his name was since then changed to Returned-from-the-death, or Baldy for short.
In addition to Baldy's absence, there had been the big rat's injury. Too-big-to-fit-through-small-holes had been, well, too big to fit through a small hole again. When exploring the abandoned mine of Widu, part of the structure came crashing down, and the big rat's impressive size had come in the way of his speed and agility. His leg was ripped off by falling debris and because the alchemist Faltaral was nowhere to be found, it had to be healed the slow, traditional way.
Now, in this dark early spring night, the four rats ran together for the nearest shrubs that grew alongside the path that led to town. There they rested, but only briefly. They chatted softly, mostly in sounds too high pitched for humans to hear, and in a language only rats can understand.
The tavern is an easy place for food, Big said. They all paused and looked at Food-bringer. He was the one rat that looked rather normal, though those who knew him, knew better. Most other creatures knew him by the name Yersin.
Not tonight,, Food-bringer decided after a moment of consideration. The barmaid sets traps regularly. And it's been too long since we went to town together.
To Cork, then, Big said. The others squeaked in excited agreement and off they went.
[ORP] Street rats
Re: [ORP] Street rats
The path led through the forest. It made it hard to spot the town walls of Cork from too far a distance, but the four rats smelled the town long before they saw it. A typical stench created by the presence of a large number of human-like creatures in a small space. For most animals, it was a smell to avoid. Not for these rats. It smelled of excitement as much as danger, adventure, opportunities, and food.
With the exception of the white Light-one, they had all been city rats their whole lives. Light-one never talked much about her life before she joined the group. She had been pet to a horribly mean sorcerer, that much they knew. She and her brothers and sisters. As well as her parents and who knows how many generations before that, nearly all as white as she was. Light-one didn't speak of what the sorcerer had done to her, just that he was terrible and one day, she and one brother had managed to escape. Her brother hadn't enjoyed freedom long. His blindness and impaired sense of smell made it too hard to avoid predators. So Light-one had been alone until she found a group of street rats willing to accept her and teach her the ways of the city and how a proper street rat speaks.
The smell became stronger. They entered the clearing between the edge of the forest and the town of Cork. The town walls were in excellent condition, or so the bigger creatures thought.
Food-bringer had been here often enough. He knew where to find the cracks in the walls, even of a size large enough to allow Big through. The shortest route was through the crack behind the sleeping guard. The elderly man defended Cork every night. And every night he took a nap during his just-after-midnight watch. He'd rest his shield against the wall and his rear on an empty barrel and close his eyes to drift off to sleep quickly, to not wake up until one of the younger guards – not experienced enough yet to criticise the elderly guard's behaviour – gently shook him at the end of the watch. The younger guard was lively and observant, well trained to spot people with no business in Cork, and to hear anyone who might sneak by despite the snoring of the older guard.
But it takes more skill to spot a rat in a dark night. Besides, it was unlikely he'd care anyway about a couple of rats scurrying around the town walls, as long as they'd leave his chow and the toes of his boots alone.
So one by one, the four rats snuck behind the sleeping guard's shield and through the crack in the wall behind that shield.
The crack led to a number of short passage ways inside the wall, cleverly created by Food-bringer and other rats using the same route to enter or leave the city. Though it was hard to contain their excitement, they were wise enough to use all senses before emerging on the inner side of the wall. No mean creatures near, they informed each other. No other rats either. So out they came, and scurried off to the town centre.
Cork was a paradise like any other large town. They scurried alongside the gutter. Hopping in and out to retrieve bits of food and other interesting goods. It let to one of the larger market cesspits. It was just being cleaned by a small, unlucky soul with a big round nose. Baldy rapidly climbed the poor dwarf's leg. He had missed adventure more than any of them.
"Get off!", the dwarf yelled over the quiet marketplace. Baldy jumped off and ran before a chubby hand grabbed at him. And when Big ran over the dwarf's feet, his size impressive in comparison, the dwarf roared in anger and swung a shovel full of solid waste after the escaping rats.
They stopped as soon as they were out of sight, and produced a sound comparable to humans' laughter.
With the exception of the white Light-one, they had all been city rats their whole lives. Light-one never talked much about her life before she joined the group. She had been pet to a horribly mean sorcerer, that much they knew. She and her brothers and sisters. As well as her parents and who knows how many generations before that, nearly all as white as she was. Light-one didn't speak of what the sorcerer had done to her, just that he was terrible and one day, she and one brother had managed to escape. Her brother hadn't enjoyed freedom long. His blindness and impaired sense of smell made it too hard to avoid predators. So Light-one had been alone until she found a group of street rats willing to accept her and teach her the ways of the city and how a proper street rat speaks.
The smell became stronger. They entered the clearing between the edge of the forest and the town of Cork. The town walls were in excellent condition, or so the bigger creatures thought.
Food-bringer had been here often enough. He knew where to find the cracks in the walls, even of a size large enough to allow Big through. The shortest route was through the crack behind the sleeping guard. The elderly man defended Cork every night. And every night he took a nap during his just-after-midnight watch. He'd rest his shield against the wall and his rear on an empty barrel and close his eyes to drift off to sleep quickly, to not wake up until one of the younger guards – not experienced enough yet to criticise the elderly guard's behaviour – gently shook him at the end of the watch. The younger guard was lively and observant, well trained to spot people with no business in Cork, and to hear anyone who might sneak by despite the snoring of the older guard.
But it takes more skill to spot a rat in a dark night. Besides, it was unlikely he'd care anyway about a couple of rats scurrying around the town walls, as long as they'd leave his chow and the toes of his boots alone.
So one by one, the four rats snuck behind the sleeping guard's shield and through the crack in the wall behind that shield.
The crack led to a number of short passage ways inside the wall, cleverly created by Food-bringer and other rats using the same route to enter or leave the city. Though it was hard to contain their excitement, they were wise enough to use all senses before emerging on the inner side of the wall. No mean creatures near, they informed each other. No other rats either. So out they came, and scurried off to the town centre.
Cork was a paradise like any other large town. They scurried alongside the gutter. Hopping in and out to retrieve bits of food and other interesting goods. It let to one of the larger market cesspits. It was just being cleaned by a small, unlucky soul with a big round nose. Baldy rapidly climbed the poor dwarf's leg. He had missed adventure more than any of them.
"Get off!", the dwarf yelled over the quiet marketplace. Baldy jumped off and ran before a chubby hand grabbed at him. And when Big ran over the dwarf's feet, his size impressive in comparison, the dwarf roared in anger and swung a shovel full of solid waste after the escaping rats.
They stopped as soon as they were out of sight, and produced a sound comparable to humans' laughter.
Re: [ORP] Street rats
They scurried over the nearly deserted market place. Some small bits of food and one or two coins had rolled in the spaces between the cobblestones. But it wasn't much. Most of it had inevitably been collected by beggars, street kids and birds earlier in the day. Food-bringer took a moment to nibble on a piece of hard bread. They would never understand, the human-like creatures he had become friends with, how different and good old, discarded food could taste. It wasn't the rich taste of freshly baked bread, but it was the taste of his entire childhood, his entire life until he had joined the gypsy camp.
Then Baldy nudged him, and they ran off. There was time for food later, after they had re-explored the town together.
The market place led to broad streets, the broad streets led to narrow streets, which led to even narrower alleyways. The kind where daylight was a rare occurrence, even during the day. The four rats scurried through the alleyways. Food-bringer knew them as well as the contents of his pockets, when he was in human form.
Some alleyways were paved, others were sandy. All were equally dark, damp and smelly. It was in a street like this Yersin was born and had lived for several years. It was in one of those small houses where he had spent his days starving until he was old enough to go out and search for food himself.
Yersin didn't remember much of those days. He had been a very young child, and had pushed away most of the memories since. Though some things he would never forget, such as the long, dark hours he spent in the tiny crawl space under the floor after his angry father had locked him there.
At first, Yersin had been afraid of the rats sharing the space with him. But soon, he had understood they were just looking for food, just like he did most of the time. A mutual curiosity developed. Yersin listened to them, let them crawl over his hands and feet, smelled them. All to pass the time and to feel less lonely. The rats smelled him, soon looked him up whenever he was there. And a few times, they led him to crumbs of food that had fallen through the floorboards. He learned to crawl around the tiny space like they did, and learned to rely on his nose and ears rather than on his eyes. He played with them until his father remembered him and let him out, or until the rats disappeared through a tiny hole too small for him to follow them.
Then one day, Yersin's father beat him worse than usual before locking him in the crawling space. His new friends curled up next to him and under his shirt. After the many hours they spent together, their soft squeaking and peeping noises had come to make more sense to Yersin than all the things his father yelled at him. He knew the meaning of the sounds they made. They all agreed he should come with them, and get away from this place. He answered, in the same language they spoke, that he couldn't come with them now. But he'd look them up as soon as he could go outside again.
No, they said. Just be one of us, and come along.
It seemed so simple, but it had taken Yersin two more days before he succeeded. Two more days of pain, hunger and thirst during which his father seemed to have forgotten about him. The rats kept insisting, and Yersin was too miserable to refuse any longer. So he sniffed the air like they did, listened for every sound, tried to distinguish different shapes in the dark. He crawled around on all fours like they did, trying to convince himself he was a rat and not a human child. And then, suddenly, every scent in the small space was stronger. Yersin could even smell his father, though he could clearly hear the man wasn't home. The excited squeaks of his friends were even clearer. He understood them, better than ever before. And they enthusiastically tumbled into him as realisation slowly struck him. He succeeded.
They didn't waste much time. Driven by his rumbling stomach and his curiosity towards all those new smells, he scurried after the other rats. Through the small hole, and a long corridor that led to the outside world.
Then Baldy nudged him, and they ran off. There was time for food later, after they had re-explored the town together.
The market place led to broad streets, the broad streets led to narrow streets, which led to even narrower alleyways. The kind where daylight was a rare occurrence, even during the day. The four rats scurried through the alleyways. Food-bringer knew them as well as the contents of his pockets, when he was in human form.
Some alleyways were paved, others were sandy. All were equally dark, damp and smelly. It was in a street like this Yersin was born and had lived for several years. It was in one of those small houses where he had spent his days starving until he was old enough to go out and search for food himself.
Yersin didn't remember much of those days. He had been a very young child, and had pushed away most of the memories since. Though some things he would never forget, such as the long, dark hours he spent in the tiny crawl space under the floor after his angry father had locked him there.
At first, Yersin had been afraid of the rats sharing the space with him. But soon, he had understood they were just looking for food, just like he did most of the time. A mutual curiosity developed. Yersin listened to them, let them crawl over his hands and feet, smelled them. All to pass the time and to feel less lonely. The rats smelled him, soon looked him up whenever he was there. And a few times, they led him to crumbs of food that had fallen through the floorboards. He learned to crawl around the tiny space like they did, and learned to rely on his nose and ears rather than on his eyes. He played with them until his father remembered him and let him out, or until the rats disappeared through a tiny hole too small for him to follow them.
Then one day, Yersin's father beat him worse than usual before locking him in the crawling space. His new friends curled up next to him and under his shirt. After the many hours they spent together, their soft squeaking and peeping noises had come to make more sense to Yersin than all the things his father yelled at him. He knew the meaning of the sounds they made. They all agreed he should come with them, and get away from this place. He answered, in the same language they spoke, that he couldn't come with them now. But he'd look them up as soon as he could go outside again.
No, they said. Just be one of us, and come along.
It seemed so simple, but it had taken Yersin two more days before he succeeded. Two more days of pain, hunger and thirst during which his father seemed to have forgotten about him. The rats kept insisting, and Yersin was too miserable to refuse any longer. So he sniffed the air like they did, listened for every sound, tried to distinguish different shapes in the dark. He crawled around on all fours like they did, trying to convince himself he was a rat and not a human child. And then, suddenly, every scent in the small space was stronger. Yersin could even smell his father, though he could clearly hear the man wasn't home. The excited squeaks of his friends were even clearer. He understood them, better than ever before. And they enthusiastically tumbled into him as realisation slowly struck him. He succeeded.
They didn't waste much time. Driven by his rumbling stomach and his curiosity towards all those new smells, he scurried after the other rats. Through the small hole, and a long corridor that led to the outside world.