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The Lost Clan....GoldClan
Stories
This is where I will post stories that I write, about warriors. If you want me to post one of your stories, just post it on any blog and i'll copy and paste it onto here, and give you credit. (scroll down for the older ones, the top is the newest ones) Someone else wrote this...NOT ME. This little thing is the direct words of PATiWACKiSWACKi at deviantart. Imagine being in a war. Good vs. evil or whatever. Pick a side. You're
one of the first people enlisted for duty. Fortunately, you manage to
make it through battle after battle. Your strength seems unlimited, but
gradually you feel more and more unwilling to fight. You constantly
wonder when it will finally end. With each passing fight, more and more
of your friends, closest neighbors, family, family friends, and the
ones that you respect die off. Death after death, blow after blow. Your
reasons to keep fighting, to stay alive, are being killed, one my one.
And eventually, you've lost everything to this war. There's nothing
left for you to fight for. Still, a part of you wants to keep fighting,
even if every other bit of you doesn't want to go on. You keep
trying...even if you don't know why. If you manage to survive by the
merciless nature of life, there will be nothing for you to live
for...only regrets and memories for company. Slowly, ever so slowly,
your side begins to lose resources, running out of ammo, weapons, food,
water...supplies in general. With supplies running out and people dying
by the thousands, you begin to feel as if the end is growing closer and
closer, and your doubt that you will win, let alone survive, this war
is growing and growing with the passing days...
You will die.
You will die.
You will die.
You will die.
You will die.
You will die.
You will die.
You will die.
You will die.
You will die.
You will die.
You will die.
You will die.
You will live.
You will die.
You will die.
You will die.
You will die.
You will die.
You will die.
You will die.
The
tables are turned against you. You will lose. Everything you've ever
had is gone; everyone you've ever loved is dead. You have nothing left.
You are just an empty shell...Nothing at all. If you are to die, in the
end, then it will be by the mercy of God. If you are to die, in the
end, nobody will shed any tears...
Not even you.
Hear these doubts whisper? Hear them tell you what you know to be the truth? Do you hear them?
Do you hear them over your last screams? Those words really did it for me. They made me change my mind about the whole password thing. They saved me from making a huge mistake. So I'm grateful to this unknown person who doesn't even know who I am, because they rescued me. (c) PATiWACKiSWACKi.deviantart.com ~ Ravenflight.
Here is one of my (silverstar's) stories...REALLY old, that's why it's so bad lolz but it's the prologue to swiftstorm and I's old stories, ivyclan series...so enjoy!
Ivyclan Series
Prologue
The Ivyclan Series
Book one: The Storm
Prologue
Four slender feline shapes whisked through the ferns and bushes. The mottled brown tabby she-cat was in the lead, followed by a small white she-cat, a black tom, and a brown tom. They entered a clearing, surrounded by eucalyptus and ferns. On the far side lay a huge rock jutted out of the ground next to a large bramble thicket. On the other side was a rather large crevice in the wall with a small stream that ran through.
“Is this the right place?” Asked the brown tom. “Yes. This is it, Breezestar.” The white she-cat narrowed her eyes as she looked around the clearing. “This is no place for Streamclan.” She meowed. “No lakes, no streams, no fish.” “Yes, yes I know, Streamstar. I am not looking for Streamclan now, but for Ivyclan. They are the ones suffering great hardships at the moment.”
Streamstar hissed. “Your clan is not the only one that should be cared for, Ivystar. My clan is in the same danger your clan faces. Every clan faces the harshness of leaf-bare.” The black tom stepped foreword. “You don’t know, Streamstar?” “Know what?” She demanded. The black tom, by the name of Nightstar shook his head. “There is a storm coming. One so big that it will wipe out all the clans if they do not flee. So big that StarClan cannot stop.” Streamstar gasped. Breezestar shook her head in grief. “The world works in strange ways.” Ivystar murmured. “We must warn each medicine cat.” The cats murmured in agreement. They all touched noses before vanishing to enter the dreams of their medicine cats.
This is by Swiftstorm, prologue of her series: Lionblaze's trechory. (sp)
LionBlaze's Trechory
Prologue
A wind blew through a deserted clearing; leaves tossing and turning during its gust.
A silvery she-cat with stars dancing in her whiskers padded into the clearing and into a moonlight forest.
“Bluestar!” a voice shrieked from behind. A beautiful tortoise shell she-cat padded over to the old gray cat. “Everyone has been looking for you; why are you in the deserted Thunderclan camp?” She flicked her tail to what used to be a camp.
“I have much more important business to attend to; much more important than what everyone else needs me to do. Spottedleaf what we have both feared for many moons has come to realization.”
Spottedleaf’s eyes widened. The clearing began to fade into stars and dust; eventually the two starry she-cats appeared next to a ginger-gold tom asleep in his den. “So it’s true…” Spottedleaf whispered. “Lionblaze has been trained by Tigerstar all along.” Bluestar just stared at the young warrior; regret in her eyes.
“I already saved Jayfeather from Tigerstar’s grasp. Surely he knew that Lionblaze wouldn’t follow him.” Bluestar shook her head; sparkling dust rustled in her fur. “Lionblaze may be as loyal to Thunderclan as any of the new warriors are. But there is something inside of him I saw in Tigerstar. Thistleclaw as well. It was something that thirsted for leadership. Ambition, Spottedleaf.”
Ears flattened Spottedleaf nodded. Silently she vanished, leaving Bluestar in the warriors den. As she closed her eyes she appeared in Firestar’s den; the only visible thing was the top of his ears, which glowed softly in the darkness by a shaft of moonlight leaking through the top of his den.
“Oh Firestar; you’re grandson should have been great. He would have lead this clan into it’s golden age. I have failed you again, my apprentice.” She prodded his shoulder softly, and sighed sadly. “Starclan has feared this ever since the three have been born.” With one great leap she disappeared back into Starclan territory; still staring down on Thunderclan’s sleeping camp.
Terrible memories of Tigerstar's betrayal, the dog pack, Bloodclan and so many deaths of loved ones flooded into her mind for the first time in many moons after joining Starclan she felt the same pain she felt as she watched Tigerstar become more and more amitious; wishing how much she could just make it all stop. With one painful sigh she whispered, “Tigerstar has returned to the forest.”
Okay, my first story! (On here, I've written MANY more) This one is about Tigerstar, and how he became evil. I wrote it with Swiftstorm, who i know in RL.
Tigerstar's Past: How it all began
By: Silverstar
A dark tabby tom hunched over in the shadows, whispering silently to himself. The bracken rustled to his left and he whipped around, his lips curled into a vicious snarl. Three small kits stepped out of the dried bracken, shaking small droplets of water of their paws and off of their ears. The biggest one up and once he caught sight of the great cat his eyes grew wide in fear.
“Greetings little ones.” He smirked wryly. “What brings you to the dark forest?” The three kits huddled in fear. “Why so scared?”
“Y-you’re Tigerstar!” Piped up the smallest one, trembling. Tigerstar chuckled.
“Why yes I am…what’s to fear? I wouldn’t dare hurt three innocent kits. Why, I wasn’t always bad. I wasn’t born in the dark forest you know.” The three lost kits glanced at him with less fear, eager to know his past. “It started a long time ago, beginning with my brother Redkit…..”
The sun shone brightly overhead, shining it’s warm rays on two tortoiseshell kits grooming each other.
“Not so hard, Redkit!” Whined the smaller she-kit. Redkit, the larger tom frowned at her.
“Your such a whoosy, Spottedkit! I was barely even touching you!” He got up and stalked over to a ball off moss and began batting at it playfully. A dark brown tabby kit with amber eyes nustled next to it’s mother’s belly, watching Redkit with curiosity. He bounded over to him.
“Can I play?” he asked with big eyes and a sweet smile.
Redkit sneered.
“You, play? Hah! You’d just ruin it with your clumsiness and stupidity! You’re too dumb and slow to catch it! Get lost, Tigerkit!” Tigerkit’s face fell and he walked over to the shadows of an oak tree, his tail drooping. The sun seemed to taunt him, shining to happily and brightly. Must everything be happy but him? He snarled silently at Redkit. He was always making fun of him! Why? Tigerkit had no idea. Maybe it was because he was jealous of him. Tigerkit shrugged, trying to shake off the anger burning in his chest. He glared at Redkit again, the anger scorching his heart, making it hard to breathe. He ran into the forest, trembling all over. Fury swept over him in waves, his amber eyes menacing. How could a small kit have so much hatred in him?
His legs shook and his mind schemed. He was going to kill Redkit, even if it was the last thing he did.
Bluestar stared solemnly at the dead body of Rufflepelt, the wind rippling her fur. She stared up at the moon, then to her clan.
“It is moonlight, time to appoint a new deputy.” She meowed hoarsely like she’d been weeping for quite some time. “I call upon the body of Rufflepelt to come and approve of my choice. Redtail shall be the new deputy of ThunderClan!” The cats cheered happily but a large tabby tom with amber eyes in the back of the crowd.
He stared menacingly up at the tortoiseshell tom, who was touching noses with Bluestar accepting his deputyship. He had expected to be deputy, not Redtail. He flexed his claws and smiled wryly. He would soon be deputy, if his plan would follow. Oh, yes! Redtail would be sorry.
Cats screeched and wailed as claws flew through he air. Several cats leapt out of the water, smelling strongly of fish. Their sleek pelts dripped off the water like a duck’s feathers; then attacking viciously. A large dark brown tom and a small tortoiseshell tom battled viciously. Tigerclaw caught sight of them and smiled, his fangs showing in his malevolent grin. He yowled to the small black apprentice to retreat back to Thunderclan, not wanting his apprentice to see his plan. Ravenpaw was such a little tattletale brat. He would deal with him later. As Ravenpaw disappeared into the trees, Tigerclaw stalked towards them, attacking the dark brown tom, Oakheart. Redtail and him drove Oakheart into the boulders, trapping him. Redtail nodded at him, giving him some respect. Then, he sneered.
“Nice move, Tigerkit.” He laughed mockingly. “I never knew you had it in you.” Tigerclaw’s shoulders bunched and he flew at Redtail, sending him slamming into the cave wall. The cave shook and huge boulders piled on top of Redtail and Oakheart. Tigerclaw smiled at their screeches and snapping of bones. He had done it! He had killed Redtail!
The screeches of battle surrounded Tigerclaw as he ran past the battling cats, leaping up onto the Highrock and entering the leader’s den. Bluestar lay in her den, her eyes clouded in confusion.
“Starclan…Starclan has done this to us!” she mumbled. Tigerstar entered the den, his amber eyes gleaming. “Tigerstar why aren’t you fighting with you’re Clan?! Go out there at once!” she rasped, trying to yowl but was too weak. Tigerstar just padded forward, unsheathing his claws. “T-tigerstar that was an order!” she cried; trying not to show her fear, looking at his long front claws. “I’m done taking orders from you!” he snarled and leaped at her, claws outstretched.
He had taken care of the clan’s kittypet, Fireheart, long before he entered Bluestar’s den, and there was no one to save her.
Biting into her throat, he heard her yowl in agony; he seemed to like it, the sound of her pain. He had caused him so much more before this day, and he will return the favor a thousand times more.
“Tigerstar- what are you doing!?” she choked out. For a split second he thought of stopping, letting her live, but the thought disappeared as she let out one last gasp and whispered. “Goodbye… Tigerclaw…” and her body went limp.
“Goodbye… Bluestar…” he whispered back, even though he knew that she couldn’t hear him.
He proceeded to lift her lifeless body of the floor, blood still streaming from her throat, and real tears were forming at his eyes. “What have I done…?” he thought to himself. “You’ve won, Tigerstar.” a voice replied. “You’ve accomplished you’re ambition.” “But at the death of someone I love!” he growled and silently carried Bluestar to the center of the camp and yowled in agony and sadness, “Bluestar is dead!”
A cold silence rippled across the cats as wide eyed shadows stared in horror at the silver-gray cat in the middle of the clearing. “She was murdered…” he growled. With screeches of fear, the rogues that were attacking fled, tails between their legs; leaving the ThunderClan cats’ eyes locked on Bluestar’s lifeless body.
Tigerstar opened his eyes. “That is my story…” he murmured. He faced the kits again; they were huddled in a group, shaking and their eyes wide with fear. “Yes I regret what I’ve done,” he seemed to have answered the thought buzzing in the kits heads. “But we cannot change the past.”
With a heavy sigh he faced the trail ahead. “Go back to StarClan;,be thankful that they allowed you to go there instead of travel this never-ending trail of darkness. Goodbye…”
The three kits blinked and the dangerous tabby was gone, without a scent or a pawprint to prove if he was ever there at all.
A Forest Without Firestar . . .
By Ravenflight
“Bluestar is dead!” Tigerclaw burst into the ThunderClan camp, a blue-gray body swinging from his powerful jaws. His dark tabby fur was matted and covered with dust. His paws were sticky with scarlet blood, the same that flowed out of the deep and unnatural wound that wreathed the gray cat’s neck.
For a heartbeat, there was only a shocked silence. Then a single mournful yowl rose up from somewhere in the throng of gathered cats. It was followed by another, and another, until the entire camp was ringing with grief-stricken wails. Tigerclaw remained silent, with his head bowed. If any cat had looked closely, they would have noticed his pale amber eyes gleaming with dark triumph. But no cat looked at him.
A sleek dark tabby tom padded up to him.
“So it is done, then?” he mewed quietly. Tigerclaw nodded wordlessly. He brushed his cohort aside with a wave of his tail and made his way through the crowd. Then the dark warrior sprang upon the Great Rock, scrabbling weakly, as though he was too grief-stricken to have strength now.
“How did it happen?” Mousefur demanded. Her eyes were dull with grief. They all were, Tigerclaw realized ruefully. Their grief had shaken them. Well, if they thought that Bluestar’s death meant that they could sit back and mourn for a while, they were wrong!
“I was . . . on the Thunderpath,” Tigerclaw began haltingly. “With Dustpaw. I told him to run and . . . and find Bluestar. I found evidence of their trespassing. But that is not important,” he added quickly as meows of outrage followed his words. “I was . . . mistaken. But Bluestar came, before I could amend my mistake. A monster . . . came at her. I tried to stop it. I did!” His voice rose to a howl. “But . . . it was like lightening . . . blood everywhere, and I . . .” he swallowed hard and continued. “I found her. Lying still. I dragged myself over to her and I could see her flank moving. She was alive! She choked out two . . . two words . . .”
“What were they?” asked Longtail.
“She said ‘Ravenpaw.’ Then there was a long pause, and then she gasped, ‘traitor.’ And then . . . she died.”
A stunned silence gripped the camp. Then Speckletail whipped around and advanced on the skinny black apprentice.
“I knew it!” she snarled, unsheathing her claws. “Ravenpaw is a traitor!” Her Clanmate, Frostfur flanked Speckletail menacingly.
The black tom shrank back, terrified. He cast a wild glance at his denmate, Graypaw. But the solid gray tom was stumbling backwards, away from him and away from his friend. Sandpaw and Dustpaw retreated, and so did Cinderpaw and Brackenpaw. No cat wanted to stand beside him.
“No!” Ravenpaw protested.
“Calm down, Speckletail, Frostfur,” Tigerclaw mewed gravely. “I will give my apprentice a fair hearing. But . . . perhaps Bluestar was right. I will give my last drop of blood to find out.” He gave Ravenpaw a hard stare, making the black apprentice’s eyes widen in fear.
“But in the meantime, a new deputy must be appointed,” Tigerclaw’s voice grew stronger. “And I know one cat who has proved his loyalty time and time again.” He took a deep breath and began. “I say these words before the body of Bluestar, so her spirit may hear and approve of my choice. Darkstripe will be the new deputy of ThunderClan.”
The sleek tabby tom who had spoken to Tigerclaw earlier swelled with pride.
“My friends,” he growled. “I have never expected such an honor. I thank you, Tigerclaw, and all of ThunderClan. I will try hard to become a hardworking and reliable deputy.”
Despite the despondent air, the Clan cheered for their new deputy. One cat, however had slipped away and sat down beside Bluestar’s body and was weeping silently.
Strange, Graypaw thought as rain began to fall. Strange that I would think about Spottedleaf in this moment of sadness. Her death was untimely, but . . . Graypaw sighed. He remembered the rogue cat that Whitestorm’s patrol had stumbled upon. What was her name? Oh yes, Yellowfang. Why was it that she had been blamed for stealing the kits? It was obvious, of course, that it had been her, and death was her punishment, but now ThunderClan had no medicine cat. Spottedleaf was dead. Yellowfang was dead. Bluestar was dead. Ravenpaw was almost dead. What was happening to ThunderClan?
Runningwind sank down beside him. Then came Sandpaw and Dustpaw. Then Mousefur. Then Brindleface. Then Whitestorm, Longtail, Dappletail, and Frostfur. Then Cinderpaw and her brother, Brackenpaw. The two warrior apprentices’ eyes were dull and staring, almost as though they couldn’t quite believe what had happened. ThunderClan was grieving.
And far out in the forest, a single bird cried out.
One moon later . . ..
“Graypaw, from this moment on you shall be known as Graystripe. StarClan honors your loyalty, and your strength, and we welcome you as a full warrior of ThunderClan.” Tigerstar’s amber eyes gleamed as he rested his muzzle on Graystripe’s head. Even now, the gray tom had to suppress a shudder. Ravenpaw should be with him. He should have helped him.
Graystripe’s heart ached with sadness as he licked his leader’s shoulder and stepped back to join the Clan. Ravenpaw was dead now, killed by Tigerstar’s own black claws. He had been proved guilty for Bluestar’s death somehow, but Graystripe couldn’t remember how.
“Graystripe! Graystripe!” The Clan cheered. Dustpelt and Sandstorm greeted him enthusiastically. Willowpelt and Halftail there first, followed Goldenflower and Patchpelt. Whitestorm rasped his tongue affectionately over his Clanmate’s ear. But Graystripe’s thoughts were already reeling back to the past, to Lionheart, his former mentor.
ShadowClan warriors had killed him in a vicious battle. It was the same battle that Rosetail the elder had died, and the same battle that some of Goldenflower’s kits had disappeared. No cat knew what had happened to them.
Graystripe sighed. There was so much he didn’t understand. But he would have to trust Tigerstar, he realized, that everything was all right. Darkstripe too, much as he despised him. As Smallear, the last cat to congratulate him, weaved off into the elders’ den, Graystripe sat a lone vigil under the stars. Lionheart should be here. Ravenpaw should be here. Bluestar should be here. Spottedleaf should be here. But they weren’t. They were in StarClan now, and there was nothing he could do about it.
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