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Here it is folks ^.^
Marten has reached the cave as his pursuers are left in a bad state. Garth begins his work.

---

Zif, Zik, Zip and the remaining feline detachment lay around literally and metaphorically licking their wounds. Zip groaned as Zik tightened the splint around his arm. “AH! … Laroja have mercy! When I get my claws around that blacksmith’s neck, were all going to get a nice lesson on the inner workings of a canine.”
Zik tied off the bandage and shook his head. “The Regent wouldn’t like that. He wants a public display of power. An execution.”
Zip clenched his off paw, which he hadn’t injured. “It’ll be an accident. Besides, he did say come back with his head.”
Zif shook his head as he watched a nearby soldier being tended to, clinging to life the best he could, his mate crouching next to him and whispering into his ear. “If you value your other arm, you’ll take him alive… though I feel the same as you. Look at this. We’ll lose three tonight, I’m sure. Five others dead, seven injured. I should have seen it coming. That rock face is as treacherous as the blacksmith. What was his name? Marten?”
Zip nodded. “Marten. I will remember that name.”
The three brothers turned their heads to see the mate of the dying soldier stepping forward, clutching her weapon in both claws. She was tall and amazonian, strong of will and body. However, she now shed tears. “He’s dead.”
“What is your name, waif?”
“Tezar, sir. I swear this day I will hunt Marten until the ends of Atriea with you.”
Some of the assembles soldiers raised their arms and exclaimed their agreement. Zif nodded. “Of course. An eye for an eye. Two eyes for a friend’s eye. Eight for a mate’s eye.”
Zif Zik and Zip stood simultaneously, Zif speaking. “Come morning we will climb that mountain and get our revenge. Tezar, your mate was the captain of this lot, correct?”
“Aye, sir.”
“You are now the captain. Make the dead comfortable, then sleep.”
The three stepped over a mound to their private camp, and sat down around the small fire. All three silently fumed, until Zik spoke. “Morale is down, but the men burn for revenge.”
“That canine coward. Why did he not fight us hand to hand? Why did he not look us in the eye as he slaughtered our men?” Zip growled.
Zif spat into the fire. “He panicked and got lucky. Our motivations are now personal, we will catch this Marten, and his friends, and ask the Regent to make their deaths slow.”
The three nodded in agreement, and lay down to sleep.

Tezar looked into the milky eyes of her mate as he lay dead. She placed a paw on her belly and took a deep breath. “Marten.”


~~~


“There’s no one here, Bronze.”
Bronze threw open another closet and searched it. “Friend! Friend! Where are you?!”
Marten once again looked over the room. Every surface was covered with parchment and bits of metal or wood. Half baked inventions lay around, and an ooze lamp cast a golden green glow around the hovel and it’s disheveled contents. He picked up a curious device and held it between his fingers. He spun it and turned to Bronze. “Odd sort of inventor who’s inventions don’t do anything.”
Bronze looked under a bed that lay in one corner and sighed. “He’s a little scatterbrained, from what I remember.”
Arbalest sat down and began eating the leftovers of the hermit’s meal. “Hmm. He had good taste in food… Mm.”
Marten continued poking through the clutter, picking up trinkets and baubles that the former occupant of the cave had created. Most of them didn’t have any clearly defined purpose, but each was interesting in its own right. Arbalest watched Marten as he chewed, Bronze sitting down next to him and growling in frustration. “He isn’t here. Where could he have gone?!”
Arbalest chuckled. “I already have it figured out.”
Marten tossed aside a small flute of some kind. “Then tell us.”
“Look at the wall behind you, Bronze.”
Bronze looked behind him at the wall. Pinned to it was a collection of blueprints and papers. Many of the papers were held up by knives or daggers. “What? I don’t see anything out of the ordinary.”
Arbalest produced the knife Marten had given him, who in turn had taken it off the corpse of a feline soldier who fell to mysterious circumstances. Arbalest threw the knife at the wall with a thud. Bronze looked at where it sat embedded, next to another, identical knife. He sighed and slammed his paw on the table. “Damn!”
Marten looked around in confusion. “What? What’s wrong?”
“The knife. It’s the same knife. Felines have been here, not too long ago, I reckon. The blood has not yet turned color.”
Bronze jumped and ran next to the knife, seeing blood on the blade, not yet fully dead. Atriean blood could survive outside the body for about forty hours, at which point it turned from red to purple. The blood on the blade was still red. “I had a feeling this might happen. People desire knowledge, and will take it by force.”
Marten picked up a mid length wooden object with a curve at one end and a metal rod sticking out the other. “Hmm… Where would they take him?”
Arbalest burped and stood. “The capitol… What have you got there, Marten?”
“I don’t know. There’s a scroll attached, but it’s written in no language I can read.”
Arbalest took the object and looked over the parchment. “… Well, I’ll keep this. Your friend wont mind, will he?”
“No. He’s probably dead.”
Marten shook his head. “I don’t think so. If they wanted him for his mind, they wouldn’t kill him. I’m inclined to agree with Arbalest: he’s probably in the capitol.”
Arbalest nodded. “Yeah. Probably getting desperate in the war effort.”
Marten turned towards the cave entrance and looked out. Something suddenly struck him as odd. The cave entrance should have been perfectly visible, but instead there was something… Two red eyes reflected the light from the ooze lamp, and a shadow stood not an inch away from Marten’s face. He jumped back, falling over a table and sending paper and books everywhere. “Drifrasa! Who the hell are you?!”
Bronze drew his blade and Arbalest, unarmed as his spear was resting against the wall and the knife was in the wall, brandished the wooden object like a club. The figure stalked into the light of the lamp and held up a giant cross handled broadsword. “More importantly, who are you?”


~~~


Fray watched as the remaining five blacksmiths worked tirelessly on their blades. Fray himself was forced to work as Marten’s replacement, and he sighed, returning to the blade he was hammering. It had been a few years since he ever worked iron, and his touch was off slightly. He doubted anyone would notice. Marten would have. There was a bang as the door swung open and a small cat with tabby markings stepped forward, shouting. “The Regent!”
Each worker stopped and looked towards the door respectfully as the Regent stepped in, accompanied by Redrick and a few soldiers. “Please. Return to working, I must have a word with Fray.”
Fray wiped his brow and stepped over to the Regent. “Yes? What is it?”
He glanced at Redrick, who was looking unusually downcast, then back at the Regent. “I need you to step up production somehow. We’re expecting an attack soon, and we’re setting up an ambush, and we need more spearheads.”
Fray nodded. “Alright, I’ll see if any apprentices can work. Why deliver the request yourself?”
“I wanted to see everything for myself.”
Fray had a good relationship with every Regent assigned to Frostblight, despite the fact he lived there prior to the war and was considered by some to be a canine sympathizer. He pulled the Regent aside and whispered. “People don’t like you.”
“I should say.”
“You don’t understand, they should like you. You’re here as an occupying power, you’ve taken away these people’s freedoms and have taken control of their lives. If you at least try and make it look like you’re just… inducting them into feline society, they might go along with it better. Look at Lar, people loved him!”
The Regent was not amused by this. “I’ll do what Laroja decrees! Canines are no less than worms, they don’t deserve my kindness. This is induction into feline society.”
In an uncharacteristic flash of anger, Fray poked the Regent on the shoulder and snarled. “Do you not see the error here?! Antagonizing an entire village you need to look after! I happen to know you… violated one of your slaves. Do you know about the teachings of Drifrasa?”
“Of course I don’t!”
“Well I do! It states in an entire chapter that canines shall not mate with any other species. This is a transgression that is punishable by death. However, if the act in non consensual, all blame is shifted to… you.”
The Regent gulped and glanced behind him quickly at the soldiers, who were watching the blacksmiths nervously. They were all glaring death at the Regent, gripping their mauls and growling in low tones. “T-they wouldn’t dare…”
“I would leave now, Regent. And think about what I have told you.”
The Regent looked at Fray with anger. “The only reason I don’t flog you is because I know you have my best interests at heart. Come! We go!”
The soldiers stepped back as the blacksmiths stepped forward, the Regent quickly scurrying out the door. Fray clapped his paws. “Now! Back to work!”
The canines returned to hammering, some muttering curses, others prayers. Fray watched the door close behind the last soldier. “I know whose interests I have at heart.”


~~~


“Ahhh!”
The bolt came out easily, but it hurt like hell. Garth bit down on the piece of wood he was given, but still he cried out in pain. “By the seven sons of Drifrasa! Doctor, you’re going to rip my arm out!”
The old doctor chuckled and placed the bolt on a piece of cloth. “It’s already out, brave one. Here, taste this for poison.”
Another doctor tasted the blood on the bolt and spat it out. “Not poisoned, but it might turn soon. Dress the wound.”
A cool mass of mud and chewed plant matter was spread over the wound, and the first doctor wrapped a cloth strip around it, tying it up with a practiced technique. “Good as new. Come back on the morrow and I’ll change it.”
“Thank you, you’re too kind.”
The doctor laughed. “It’s just my job! Now, get going, Harimau will be waiting to hear what you have to say.”
Garth stood and groaned, his limbs aching and his arm still hurting. He walked slowly out of the tent into the makeshift street. The tents were arranged in neat blocks, with beaten paths in between them. Harimau was waiting patiently outside the tent, his armor left behind. Garth marveled at the muscle showing through his thick leather clothes, put there by battles he fought in full armor. Garth briefly thought about how felines seemed to be lacking in muscle, being why they opted for lighter armor. He approached Harimau as he uncrossed his impressive arms. “At last. I thought you’d be screaming all night.”
Garth chuckled. “You have a fine doctor. I have tactical information for your commander, ple-”
“Anything you have is useless now, they know you’re here, so they’ll change their plans.”
Garth cursed himself for not thinking of that, but his clever mind thought of something quick. “You get me wrong, sir. I was running from them because I tried to steal gold from them.”
He held out the pouch and rattled it around, the gold clinking inside. “They don’t know I also have the feline’s entire deployment plan.”
Harimau snatched the pouch and looked inside. “Katches… you keep them. I’ll take you to see General Kho/l.”
Harimau led Garth through the tents, and he couldn’t help but marvel at the size of the place. Personally, Garth wanted the canines to win the war, but in his own war, money had already won. He looked to his left and raised an eyebrow as a line of canines preformed combat drills well into the night, one of the captains standing stock still in full armor, watching them. Eventually they came to a giant tent, and Harimau pushed aside the flap, entering with Garth not far behind. Khol sat at a table, a book open on it, and a young woman sitting across from him, who bore a startling resemblance to Khol. Garth looked her over and determined she must have been Khol’s daughter. Khol stood and closed the book, his daughter looking over with bright eyes. “Harimau? What is it? Who’s that?”
“This is Garth, sir. He was found running from the felines, for trying to steal katches. He claims to know the feline’s deployment plan. Frankly sir, I don’t trust him.”
Khol stood. “Thank you, Captain. I’ll deal with him.”
Harimau nodded curtly and steppe outside. Khol looked Garth up and down, then gestured to himself, then the table. “I am General Khol, and this is my daughter Rita.”
Rita waved, and Garth bowed. “An honer, sir.”
Khol turned around and walked toward the table. Garth took the opportunity to grin and wink at Rita, who blushed from head to toe. Garth had that effect on most women. He sat next to Khol (Who was massive in comparison to Garth) and began relaying the information to him. “I was walking by the Frostblight fort when I overheard two soldiers talking above me. I flattened myself against the wall and listened. They said the felines were moving troops from Folg ridge into the Arden forest. They’re setting up an ambush.”
Rita leaned over the table and looked at Garth in awe. “Really? Father! We can attack Folg!”
Khol frowned. “Indeed… but can I trust your word, Garth?”
Rita frowned and swatted his arm. “How could you say that? He risked his life coming here!”
She pointed at his bandage, and Garth nodded. “Thank you, Rita. Yes, sir, I know I am a thief, but I only steal from felines. I only wish for them to be swept out of this country.”
Rita blushed again and smiled. Khol narrowed his eyes at Garth. His charm might have been working on his daughter, but Khol knew he could be a spy. He smiled. “Well, I will take this information into advisement. In the meantime, I’ll give you a tent and you can stay with us. Send in Harimau on the way out, he’ll be lurking around somewhere nearby.”
Khol stood again and walked over to another table, fixing himself a drink. Garth looked at Rita and patted her paw. She retracted it and suppressed a giggle. He then stood and bowed to both of them. “I will, thank you.”
He made a hasty retreat, with one backward glance at Rita. Khol leaned against the table and watched him go, sipping his drink. “Rita, it is late.”
“O-oh, yes father”
She stood and walked out of the tent, head in the clouds. Harimau entered shortly and Khol passed him a cup. “What impressions do you get from this Garth fellow?”
“I don’t know about me, but it looks like Rita got plenty of impressions from him.”
“Nonsense.”
Harimau chuckled. “He seems sincere enough, but something’s off about him. I’d like to investigate.”
“I was going to ask you to anyway.”
Harimau nodded. He like solving mysteries. If he lived in a different time, he might have been a detective.


~~~


The three travelers stood, weapons pointed at the red eyed stranger. She moved her sword in preparation, eyeing Marten. He lowered his blade and looked her over. She was a jackal, average height but slender. It looked like at one point she had been starved, and her cheekbones could be seen through her fur. Her red eyes almost glowed with fiery resolve, and her face was stuck in a scowl, though all three noted it was quite aesthetically pleasing. “You’re canine. I have no quarrel with you.” Marten said.
“You do if you’re responsible for this. What happened here?”
Arbalest grinned. “Felines did it, peach.”
“What did you call me?!”
She crossed the room and glared into Arbalest’s eyes. He coughed. “N-nothing. See the knife? It’s feline.”
The stranger looked over at the knives in the wall and lowered her weapon. “Hmm. Who are you if not kidnappers?”
Marten righted the table he knocked over and sheathed his sword. “We’re looking for the alchemist. Did you know him?”
“Do I know him. And yes, he’s a good friend of mine.”
Arbalest tucked the wooden object into his pants as the stranger slung the sword over her back. “Sociable fellow, this hermit.”
Bronze sat on the edge of the bed and yawned. “What’s your name, friend?”
“I am not your friend, nor do I have any obligation to tell you my name.”
Marten shrugged. “Alright.”
There was a long silence, until the figure finally sat down and sighed. “My name is Kathresh.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Kathresh. We think the alchemist was taken to the capitol.”
“His name is Pil-”
“Pil! Yes, that was his name. It’s been so long I had forgotten.”
Kathresh glared at Bronze as he grinned to himself. “His name is Pil, and I am inclined to agree… I apologize if I jumped to conclusions, I’ve been looking for Pil for a long time.”
Bronze nodded. “Me too. May I ask why?”
Kathresh’s face twitched. “I need his advice. And you?”
“Same.”
Arbalest picked at the remaining food. “Tell me, was it you who killed the three felines that were guarding that cart?”
Kathresh blinked. “Yes.”
Arbalest looked at her with something approaching admiration in his eyes, as he smiled at Kathresh. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course.”
“Why didn’t you look inside the cart?”
She shrugged. “I didn’t think there was anything in it. Why?”
“I was in that cart.”
“Oh… Sorry. What was a scavenger doing in the ‘care’ of the felines?”
“I’m the king of the scavengers.”
Marten chuckled and Bronze lay back on the bed, exhausted. Kathresh grabbed Arbalest’s shirt and shook him. “You’re insufferable, aren’t you? I’m going to the capitol, don’t follow me.”
She stood to leave, but Marten stood and stammered. “W-wait! Don’t you think it would be safer if we all traveled together? We’re going to the same place to meet the same person.”
Kathresh didn’t stop. “I’ll let Pil know you wanted to speak to him.”
She disappeared further up the mountain. Arbalest looked at Marten’s downcast face with amusement. “Not everybody we meet will join our jolly band of heroes.”
Bronze was snoring now, but Arbalest and Marten still had energy. “I’m no hero. My motives are purely selfish.”
Marten sat at the table as Arbalest answered. “Tell me something, what kind of delusional state did you have to be in to think you could live with the felines in peace?”
Marten hit his forehead off the table and sighed. “I don’t know… the Regent we had before, um, the new one came into power, uh, he was nice. He only brought the slaves he needed. I don’t know why I thought that was alright…”
“You only realize it once it’s your daughter on the line.”
Marten placed his paw on the table and extended his claws. He pushed them into the wood, his entire arm shaking. “It is clear now. Drifrasa’s ire is in me. The Regent of Frostblight will feel it in penance for his sins.”
Arbalest was slightly intimidated by the raw strength that coursed through Marten’s arm, the entire length of his claws embedded in the wood of the table. “How long have you been waiting to say that…?”
“I write poetry in my free time. Well, used to.”
“I see… You need any help there?”
Marten sheathed his claws and made a fist. “No.”
“You know it may already be too-”
“Don’t.”
Arbalest raised his arms and stood. “Sorry.”
He walked over to the fire and threw another log in, sitting next to it. “I’m going to sleep. Hopefully Kathresh will be true to her word.”
He let his head hit the stone wall and closed his eyes. Marten wasn’t entirely sure if he was asleep; Arbalest looked alert enough to sense a a small fly if it ventured too close to him. Marten shook off this feeling and stared at the table, etching random patterns in it with his claw. If he returned to find Myri dead, or worse, he didn’t know if he could continue living. Another part of his heart would be ripped out. He etched a few words into the wood, and lay his head over them, his eyes brimming with tears.

~~~

Myri was supposed to be asleep. She knew she had to get an early start to finish her given tasks. She was also doing something she herself had forbidden: thinking. It had been a few days since the assault, and her bottled thought suddenly crept back into her mind. The shame, pain, and anger filled her, and tears once again ran down her face. She wanted more than anything in the world to just disappear and be spare the task of dealing with what had happened. She knew, however, that she would be leaving behind too many friends. Marten, Redrick, Troy, she even couldn’t bare to do such a selfish thing to Fray. She wished Marten was there now. He would hug her and all her problems would just melt away. But he wasn’t, all because of the Regent. She sat up and stared a the wall. She resolved right then and there that she was going to kill the Regent with her bare claws. But she would have to bide her time, wait for a golden opportunity. She lay back and fell asleep planning her revenge.