Over the seas
Some will agree
There is a land so grand
Deep in the North
Twixt taverns and port
Lay the bonnie Highlands
Winds blowing cold
Through days of old
When a ship of evil came
And aboard that boat
Came a big stoat
Oh curse that vermin's bad name
Our families slain
To the villain's gain
He took all our young ones away
When northward arrived
A warrior so fine
Her name feared by the vermin of the the main
This is the tale
Of a night in the gale
That brought the young lass to our land
This story is true
Her story's for you
And other friends of the Highlands

-Song of Marinya

The Highlands were a place of great beauty to most creatures who could tolerate the harsh winter cold and winds. Nowadays it was a land ruled by the stoat named Plathe the Bane. He was big for a stoat, with dark fur and darker eyes. He ruled the Highlands now and had many of its residents imprisoned or killed due to their volatile nature and love of battle. He came on a big ship named Gorewake. He was a corsair then, and gifted with a silver tongue. He had coaxed the Highlanders to allow him to land near their homes quite easily. Once he did, he stole their young ones and kept them until they agreed that he could rule their lands. Naturally, this didn't please many of the residents in the far North and many of them raised a rebellion and fought back, but most of them were slain along with several families who were believed to be involved. Plathe kept the young ones of the Highlanders as a tax for their impudence and made servants out of them. He had it all now, the control of the waters, the servitude of strong young ones, and the fame as a tamer of the wild highlander spirit. That was before a small ship sailed into his bay deep in the winter.

She wasn't impressive in size for an otter, but what she lacked in stature, she made up for in wild temper, strength, wisdom, and beauty. She was a Highland lass born and bred, and she was returning home after a long trip at sea. She was not prepared for what she came home to. Her name was Marinya, daughter of Rhyla and Swarde. "The bonniest lassie tae ever sport a claymore," was the saying in her homeland. She wore a kilt as was customary and a white tattered blouse along with ribbons in her head fur sporting her clan's colors. She carried a long claymore and from the look in her crystalline blue eyes, she knew how to swing it. When she arrived, it had been stormy as it was in the Highlands, and she was an experienced sailor. She landed at port to meet a pack of rats carrying sheilds. Showing no great concern, she leaned upon the dock. One of the rats sneered at her.

"Well, well. Lookit wot we got here mates, a pretty ottergel." The rats pawed their blades with anticipation. Marinya narrowed her eyes.

"Aye, an' lookit whit the tide brought wi' me, a claymore blade so sharp, it can cut the insolent tongue right oot o' yore mouth." She said her eyes burning blue. She drew her blade fast and dispatched one rat with a single move. "Right," she said all business now. "Yore goin' tae tell me, why yore kind es settlin' in the Highlands an' Ah want nae lies oot o' eny o' ye, or Ah'll get plenty mad!"

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