The forest stands tall and lush here; ancient trees reach weather-twisted arms to the sky, fighting monster-like storm clouds back with their interlacing fingers. Shadow seems to lurk everywhere you look, but it spills calmly, coolly, inspiring a sense of stealthy calm or protection rather than unease. That is, if you've forgotten what kind of creature might be stalking just out of sight...Abendrot is a land cradled by the dark woods on all sides; in the center, some of the larger trees stay behind to reveal a small plateau - a citadel where this pack can gather and defend itself from invaders. There are, of course, softer sides to the land. Clearings here and there allow the sun to throw down its rays in incongruously resplendent gold showers. Ignore the lingering scents of blood spattered here and there along the borders: those do not concern you. The river on one edge of the territory is playful enough when it hasn't been gorged by violent rain. You can choose to note the ragged claw marks raked down tree trunks and the forest floor as friendly "Home Sweet Home" signs, if you wish.

All who treasure loyalty, order, victory, and the occasional indulgence of raw visceral pleasure are welcome, once they've been approved by the ever-watchful eyes of Abendrot's Alpha. But keep one thing in mind: no matter what your motive, this is not a fool's Paradise. This is the land of soldiers, assassins, and spies. This is ABENDROT.

Make up your mind quickly and prepare to prove your worth. You wouldn't want to add to those blood spatters, would you...?

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FROZEN MASS GRAVE
IP: 76.243.46.249


Kershov’s ears went up as Ruhani’s tone climbed, her promise ending in an aggressive growl. Normally, the King would not tolerate such blatant loss of self-control . . . yet he couldn’t help approving of the assassin’s tenacity. Say what you will about this fae, she does not give up easily. “I cannot speak for the rest of Abendrot, of course, but I do not think of you as ‘just a teen,’ Ruhani,” the frosted Pharaoh replied coolly. His voice held none of his previous irritation, but slipped out as hard and businesslike as fresh ice. “I think you misunderstand my unwillingness to keep this loquacious scrap. She annoys me. That has nothing to do with my opinion of you.”

Sure enough, the brown spaz had something to add to the conversation. It was everything Kershov could do not to break down and remove a mouthful of her loathsome, irksome guts. He opted for answering her in an overly drawn-out, falsely cheerful purr. “You don’t sleep, you say? Fascinating. I have a trick that will make you sleep forever, isn’t that interesting? Would you like to know what it is?” He licked the shredded side of his muzzle, caressing each and every exposed knife until his cutlery gleamed, shiny white promises of agony should this exasperating pup put one toe out of line. Then, visibly pulling himself away from an immediate act of violence, Kershov brightly turned to Ruhani. “She’s yours to keep then, if you want her so damn much. If she gets in my way, she is dead.”

Still wearing a positively devilish grin, Kershov stalked away. He still needed to clean that blasted blood from his fur.




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