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...?
IP: 174.22.148.163
Posted on November 23, 2012 at 07:39:34 PM by [ k e y ]
Not moments after Key’s frame shook in the chilly atmosphere, than the one the pallid demon had been interested in seeing made his entrance. It was not a sudden one, although Key instantly stood once he caught his cologne on the night breeze. Audettes pricked forth, eyes frozen in the direction of which the musk was the strongest. The steady cadence of pushed pistons was distinguished above the conversation of the two acquaintances and fluidly, feminine hinds pushed upwards, lifting the small mass of the snow white gargoyle off of the icy fall terra. Not long after he had raised himself to be considerate and respectful, the Lord himself came into view. Emotionless optics sucked his appearance up in an instant. A bone-white color, with many battle scars… cold, blocked portals. Key kept his voice unheard and his eyes still, his presence itself a reminder for the reason as to why he was here. Curiosity could not outwit the vampire’s stone palette, where the smile had been wiped clean off after the scent of the monarch had first been picked up. The King first turned to his subjects after only resting his gaze on the introvert’s pelt fleetingly. He was then out of Key’s sight, and only lingered slightly on the peripheral sides. Undisturbed by this, Key’s unmoving stance kept to its promise and stayed quiet, as if the wind no longer tortured his frail being. “Good work, you two. I am sure that if this stranger had any ill intentions, the sheer force of your number would have cowed him. Two against one—so unfair.” Strong words… enough to make a check on a few of the boxes Key had left open from rumors. But there was something else under his libretto. Annoyance, perhaps? Key did not prod upon this in his strange thought process in any way. After all, it had been stuck on the alpha’s pelt like a tick does to flesh when he first arrived. But the optomistic’s eavesdroppers did flicker a bit from his uncontrollable shyness at the thought that he had added to whatever provoked it. The words the titan had let flow were lingering on the thin line of satirical, and Key also took this into note. But, because his attitude might have been just a one time thing, Key could not make any guesses about the warrior’s own thought process. Only when the figure came back into view and stepped closer to the light-boned sorcerer’s skeleton did Key finally move his optics from their frozen position to meet the leader of Abendrot’s gaze. Listeners flicked back forward, the only thing that gave his shyness away disappearing into the night sky above the quartet. Only now that Key found himself one on one with the chiseled Olympian. The other two were instantly in another world, somewhere where the varg on the borders could not sense their beings. Alas, it might sound dramatized, but Key’s crystal reflectors bore into the regal until he was exactly parallel to the healer’s own body. Would you like an inside look? Be careful… it will be your only guided tour of the seraphim’s processing system… and only a minute portion of it at that. The ability to focus in on one action… the folding of a muscle as it was pushed backwards against the flesh of the stomach… that was what could be labeled to allow the stranger to pick up on certain things. Tightness in the face… Kershov was not the kind to take jokers in for laughs. That tassel was held proudly, a sure sign that he was protective of his ability to rule… though not as a new, pompous ruler would be. This reaper knew his weapon and exactly how far he could push the sharpened blade until it became blunt and rusted with age. Even then, he could most likely still cut with it… an infection would follow into any obstacle that came into his line of fire. Having gathered all that was needed to know, or observed to the point that he could make a close guess on the vitality of the large fighter, the healer’s gaze broke away from the monarch’s as he himself took a look at Key, closed off because of his rewetting of his optics. Whether or not Kershov had noticed just what Key had just done with that intense gaze was unbeknownst to the fragile young male. It did not matter to him. Key kept his optics locked from the demon until lyrics poured from the czar’s mouth from his pink tongue. “I’m sure you have already stated your title to my subjects, but I would like to know your name. Repeat it and submit.” It was at this that stormy gray optics became visible again and aqua veins took into mind the just behavior of the phantom. Key’s petite, temperate smile returned and he dipped his cranial respectfully, lowering himself to the ground fluidly. A girl’s frame, indeed. The same detached voice was created for the royal’s domes to pick up on after the masculine had finished his own demands for his guest to abide by. Of course. My name is Key.  |
lolol.
o-o idk where silvah went.
therefore.
i posted again.
sorry for spammin' yo board. TT^TT
Replies:
- FROZEN MASS GRAVE - By KERSHOV November 26, 2012 at 00:35:53 AM