They Arrive [P1]

Twolegplace; a sprawling maze of Thunderpaths and Twoleg nests. It was a hard place to live, but it wasn't like many cats had much of a choice. The alternative was living alone and going into unchartered territory. Well, there was another option. But that was about near impossible for the loners and kittypets of Twolegplace. The forest cats weren't friendly towards outsiders, and even if they let you in you'd have to live a rigid lifestyle. You'd even have to give up your name. Most cats didn't understand that though. The Clans were vicious to trespassers, and any rogue who dared step into their territory would usually be caught with a SkyClan patrol. Yes, Twolegplace really only bordered SkyClan at this point in time. They cut down a lot of SkyClan's forest to build the strange area in the first place. Not like SkyClan really needed it, they had quite enough territory. And that was moons ago, farther than any cat in this day and age could remember.

But among the multitude of cats in Twolegplace, a new group had arrived.

The group moved as a single unit, moving close together in a triangular formation, pushing cats aside. There were tons of them. They moved quickly until they arrived at a secluded alleyway.

A young rogue looked from the Twoleg crowfood he had been ravaging through in a silver disc, facing the cats. The leader of these newcomers was an aging cat, with gray hairs spouting here and there all over his pure white fur. He didn't say anything as more rogues arrived, poking their heads out of their makeshift homes and exchanging quiet murmurs.

"Oi, this alley's full." The rogue said, looking at all the cats. "You're gonna have to move your cats somewhere else."

The old white cat spoke up after a thoughtful moment, his amber eyes glowing in the fading light. It really wasn't that late in the day, but Leaf-fall had arrived long ago and Leafbare was on its way. It always got dark and cold around this time, and it especially got hard around here. Small communities of cats like these ones were the only real reason that rogues survived out in Twolegplace. They weren't as close as the Clans or nearly as big, of course, but they were life savers for any lone cat in need of a home.

"Oh, I'm afraid that we have moved far enough for the day." the cat said, his voice raspy. "This is as close to the forest as we can get, correct?"

The rogue's eyes momentarily lit up with fear and he backed up slightly, his claws unsheathing. "Are you some of those wild cats from over the fence or something?" Hostility and fear was creeping into his voice. "Listen, we don't want any trouble. We got kits here." More rogues began to accumulate behind him, backs arched and fur bushed out so they looked twice their size. They were prepared for a fight.

The cat seemed amused. "No, no. We've come to visit these Clans you speak of, though." The cat straightened up. "My name is Urban. We are the Deomilites." Urban motioned to the cats behind him with his tail. "And we are in a need for a place to stay in the coming moons."

A growl began to rumble in one of the rogues' throat and the apparent leader spoke up again, confidence back in his voice. "Well, listen. We ain't got no room for more cats in here. And you're insane if you want to see those forest cats, 'cause they'll rip you and your cats' pelts off!"

Urban gave a small mrrow of laughter. "Then we'll have to make room. Barbarossa, Eleanor, and Melisende, we need to have a little talk. Godfrey, do whatever you like. I know you do love a good battle." he mewed calmly before giving a loud cry that rang throughout the dark alley. "The gods will it!"

The mass of cats behind him returned the battle cry and charged over, quickly meeting the rogues in battle.

The rogues yowled in surprise. They weren't expecting confrontation. Though they were bigger, they were outnumbered.
The cats rushed in, but one was particularly slower. A gray heterochromic cat, with one green and one blue eye, strolled into the battlefield. He was smiled, as if enjoying the gore around him. He was stopped by a large tom, though, who hissed and arched it's back.
The cat frowned. "How dare you interrupt my stroll." he snarled, but then suddenly, started laughing. It was rather insane, and was reminiscent of a cackle. The tom seemed outraged by this, and plunged.
It was over in seconds. The smaller cat dug his large fangs into the rogue's neck. Blood seeped out as the rogue lost consciousness. When he released, the rogue was barely alive, lying on the floor from the deep wound in his throat. More blood poured.
The cat started laughing once more, unphased by the battles around him. "You are pathetic. I, the immortal Godfrey, shall end your pathetic life!"
And with that, he ran sharp claws over every inch of the cat's body. After the cat had painfully died, he found himself yanking a claw out of the cat's paw. Holding it up in triumph and victory, he stored it under the body, and went for more blood. He heard the yowl of the cat's mate, and grinned evilly. This would be fun.

A sleek white she-cat to one side of Urban stood with her nose turned slightly up. Her intense yellow eyes surveyed the scene with hardly any emotion. After watching Godfrey take down a rogue bigger than him, she turned away and padded down to the end of the alley.

Another she-cat followed, this one a smaller brown tabby with amber eyes. She seemed to almost shine in the moonlight as she turned to the white cat.
"Do you think we can really take on those clans?" the white cat, called Melisende, asked to no one in particular. "The rogues seem rather frightened of them, and I do not wish to fight a force we have no hope against."

A tom with muddy brown fur and yellow eyes followed up behind the group, completely silent. He was covered in scars and one of his ears was torn. He was large and stocky, and by appearance alone it was clear that he was a cat that no one should mess with.

Urban flicked his ear. "Melisende, my child, have faith." he replied. "We have the blessings of the gods. Those Clans only have their barbaric beliefs in their ancestors and code." He continued to walk around the corner, the yowls of cats not fading. "The gods will it, and they will reward us greatly for this undertaking."

And suddenly, the remaining rogues retreated. The Deomilites had won, and battle cries were being howled. Not a single cat from their group was killed. There were about half a dozen rogue bodies strewn about the narrow alley way.
Suddenly, Godfrey hollered up. "Urban! There are kits! Can I kill them?" he yelled up to his leader, followed by the muffled chorus of tiny cats.

Urban didn't answer, but flicked his tail. Godfrey could interperet that as a yes or no; the kits would die either way. No member of the Deomilites would be caring for them. He continued to speak to the three commanders. "This alleyway will have to suffice until we have some Clan territory." Urban said, looking ahead. While they were close as they could get to the forest without ending up in Twoleg yards with the kittypets, it was still quite some distance away. "What do we know of the nearest Clan? SkyClan?"

"They seem to be small and weak," Melisende answered. "It would not be a difficult task to overtake them. Same with the clan on the moor, Windclan. Both are small." She sat down, tail tip twitching.

Eleanor nodded silently in agreement. From what she had heard about the Skyclan, it could not put up a big fight.

Urban sat down as well, silent. He was in deep thought. "Hm, but they know their territory well. We will need to be cautious and have faith that the gods will deliver us victory. They are our path to the forest." Barbarossa stood by, not bothering to sit. He didn't comment. Urban continued. "Our efforts should be focused on the Clans, but we also must consider the future. We must learn to hunt and fight in these territories, if we wish to settle them." he mewed, looking at the three commanders.

"Send me."
And through the Deomilites, a lone cat walked up. He had brown fur and a cream colored muzzle and belly. His eyes were a vivid blue, and he was a very handsome cat, all except for his torn up right ear.
His name was Amalric. He was relatively new to the group, but cats liked him due to his charm and his cunning stratagem in battle. He walked up to the generals. "Let me go to this Sky clan and pretend I am a traveler who wandered into the woods and is in need of rest. That way I can give you information about them from the inside." he stated, his plan being one he came up with after the battle. The cat himself had killed no one, though was the reason for a battle victory after he had arrived. This was partially the reason he was so accepted.

"Amalric, you know of the dangers of going to SkyClan." Urban replied, turning his head to the cat. While he was respected and popular, Amalric was still new and Urban did not know what to think of him. "They do not trust strangers. If you were to go there, they may chase you away." his gaze was stiff. "Perhaps it would be best to simply attack. If Melisende is correct, then it should be of no difficulty."

"I know of these cats. I had a friend who knew the legends of them. There are 5 clans of them, and they are tough. We cannot take risks and lose more cats than we need to, or by the time we get to clan number 5, what is left of us will be wiped out. I am expendable if they were to find out my treachery and kill me, for I am new." the handsome cat meowed. "Let me go, Urban, my prophet. I'll make you proud."

Urban gazed at the tom momentarily, as if judging him before a sigh escaped his mouth. "Fine then, Amalric. But be cautious. You must not jeapordize our divine mission. We will be stationed on the edge of SkyClan territory for when you return. If you do not, we will attack anyways." It almost seemed as if there was a warning in Urban's tone. But not for Amalric's sake, but to warn him that the Deomilites did not accept failure.

Amalric nodded. "Very well. I will return 2 sunrises from today." he meowed, and hopped over the fence bordering Skyclan and Twolegplace. "For the gods!"
Amalric didn't really believe in the gods much, of course. He and his sister were starving when he came across the group, though, and decided to join them rather than die. He sighed. He sounded rather brainwashed and moronic. Nevertheless, he had to do this. For he and his sister.