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: 154.5.63.177
Posted on August 25, 2013 at 06:42:58 PM by Menacy
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It was only in a fool’s game that one would be surprised as the still fog began to stir. Drifting through its icy sheets like the same, there emerged a fantastic white creature – surely then, not even a fool would play his jest. The snow cloaked fiend needed no crown upon his features; if all else was lost to age, the brute’s eyes would be enough. It was this that caught the starless soldier’s attention. There was no faking a look like that. This the lupine knew well. Before the alpha had even begun to open his shattered maw, the obsidian collapsed his massive form, pressing it lower into the sodden earth in the face of such a king. Greetings, traveler. I am Kershov, Alpha of this territory. Submit, and state your title and purpose. Perhaps I’ll chose not to put you out of your apparent misery. Even as the open wound protested to the rough terrain it was now pressed against, the black warrior felt a dim sort of wistfulness as the sire spoke of misery. With his amber orbs trained low in the alpha’s presence, Menacy began to speak. Your word holds true on its surface, though I fear you speak not of misery as it is known to me The traveler’s low murmur held an eerie note, preceded as it was by the flattening of broad ears and the flatness of the brute’s gaze. The stranger’s scar laden fur and the determination of his halted trek where soundly at contrast with the hopeless anger that plagued his aura. However, the onyx male’s respectful stance, low eyes and quiet voice indicate that the direction of the fiend’s anguish points not at the pack and its royal. I am called Menacy, fighter from the north. Until your borders hit, I was following a beast. The trail is lost though; I am not a tracker, my comrades of the like were lost many miles ago. We are not to return while the savage is still walking, this is custom and especially so when fellows have been slain. I pray you’ll forgive my near mistake. Sire, you are right to speak of misery, though this wound grieves me not Menacy was no king, nor had he ever been or would he ever be such a thing. His respect of the alpha held strong on another factor. This was a wolf for which he would labor, fight or die. It was true, the coal black stranger could never return to his home, nor would he wish to. With courage that would keep his legs moving until he had none, fear was seldom known to the beast. Yet now, with his hunt growing near to never being completed, the obsidian felt fear slink through his body. He thrived… lived on a purpose, without one this fierce soldier was privy to no reason to live. His only hope now was that this newly known majesty could give him one. |
Replies:
- FROZEN MASS GRAVE - By KERSHOV September 3, 2013 at 01:46:30 AM
And then you find yourself in P.E.R.I.L. - By Menacey September 11, 2013 at 04:41:05 AM