The caves are where it all started. They allowed the first wandering wolves access to the land of Blossom Forest, and afterward housed the monster that had threatened the earliest of inhabitants. The heroes had slain it, yes, but in doing so had also closed off one of the pathways in the caverns, magic blocking one of the many exits to Blossom Forest. But over the years, the original spell has weakened and now the way is clear. What will not only crawl out of the caverns, but erupt from it? The caves now thrum with the ever growing magic wellspring as it spreads out into the land. It is from here that the first vampire of Blossom Forest was corrupted, and it is here that any subsequent vampire will be born. To traverse its paths is dangerous - there is an almost impenetrable darkness, and in that abyss lays many secrets - hidden holes one could fall through, weakened floors, and then of course there is the labyrinthe itself. No one knows what the deeper levels hold - no one has traveled them and survived to tell tales. Not even those who call this place home dares to test their luck by going in deep, deep, deeper. The magic exuding from this place has rearranged the lands - moving packs, changing the terrain. Here the cave looks the same but it is not - it is more dangerous than ever. In addition, outside the mouth of the cave the sacred stones that once stood erect in another place now stand guard. They are colored the most beautiful arrangement of jewel tones, and almost appear to be made of gems themselves, no longer the dull grey they once were. It is within them that all official fights must take place - at the Blican Orlege. Welcome to Drylic Cofa...


Welcome to Chaos! Don't you recognize Me? {OPEN}

Netvarkai | Pupless | Loveless | Packless | Adult

"The mind is what makes us know what we are," He growls, his grin crazed and sinister."But it also is what can break who you are, isn't it?"

Where has all of your innocence gone, little one?

Netvarkai stared boredly over the clearing from where he lounged in the shadows of a shallow cave made from a collection of giant stones that stood within the caves themselves, but happened to get a rare crack in the stone that allowed light from out side to be brought in. The slowly accumulating darkness of the twilight gave him even more shadow to hide in, serving his purpose perfectly. A chill breeze then decided to blow through his little patch of darkness, and he smiled darkly to himself. Cold was an easy way to numb the mind, making it easier to prod at and begin to take apart. But that required a victim, which was something he didn't have in his darkened shelter.

And luckily, with the cold wind came a faint trace of wolf.

Черный чертовски." He swore, easily sliding into the native language of his northern homeland. Stretching his muscles slowly and slightly painfully, he casts another glance over the entrance to the caves where his miniature version is tucked away, slightly to the side, his mahogany eyes flashing. The Russian then slid out of the shadows, faint moonlight shining off his black fur and giving it a blue sheen. The new exposure to light also accentuated the thousands of scars riddled across his body, and especially his "favorite three". The two deepest that formed a large X across his chest, and the smaller, but no less noticeable one that curved around his right eye, making a C of sorts.

And though he was small in size, all of these characteristics plus the dim light made him look rather mysterious and intimidating.

It's okay, let it go. Don't you want to be free?

Then he saw her, a white wolf quickly making his way down the tunnel the that his little cave opened into. Netvarkai's thoughts traveled quickly back to his memories of Ivan, the other Russian who looked much the same as that random passerby. He had been his first mental experiment, and the first one he'd ever driven out of his mind. But that was an extreme case which involved revenge and whatnot. Besides, killing everyone you ever knew and loved can do that to an innocent mind. Well, at least he wasn't so foolishly gullible anymore... And even a broken toy can still be fun if you adjust the games you play.

It's so easy, Let them go!
Turn yourself into ME!

But as the wolf before him could disappear down into the depths of the caves, the raven brute could still see the raw power in flashing in Ivan's violet eyes as if it were yesterday when he sent him after his father. It was impressive, really, and a sly smile made its way to Netvarkai's maw.

Four gentle notes slipped into the air as Netvarkai whistled the beginning of his favorite Russian folk song, the Song of the Volga Boatmen. It was a simple way of making any wolf in the area turn their attention towards him, and anyone, ANYONE's mind would be more fun than just staying alone with the tantalizing scent of others about. He could imagine every one around him pausing and turning towards him, searching for the one who sang at them. Now having definitely involved himself, the Russian only had to lure one if them in before he was his new mental toy.

Where are all of your excuses now, little one?

Netvarkai made his way forwards slightly, into the less shaded mouth of the cave. He was about the size of a teenager, but the slight limp he'd developed over years of running all the way from Russia while covered in wounds had only gotten worse and made him look even smaller. And though he didn't notice it, he moved at such an angle towards the other that what light there was struck his coat as a striking sapphire blue. Still needing to draw the other to him, he turned and flicked his tail out into his direct sight before moving back into the cave, ignoring him theatrically. Instead, he looked up to the moon and began to sing.

God's ain't gonna help ya son
You'll be sorry for what ya done

Them gods gonna hurt ya son
When you play with a loaded gun
When you play with a loaded gun

They ain't gonna catch ya when ya fall
You'll be pleadin' while you're bleedin'

They ain't gonna hear ya son
Don't care 'bout what ya done

They ain't gonna help ya, son
You'll be sorry for what ya done
Be sorry for what you done...

It was just another old song that his pack used to sing at night to the pups as they went to sleep. But it was a personal favorite, as it taught truths of life to the younger wolves of the world, but it also taunted regret and all its repercussions. He wished he could remember the rest of the lyrics, but he merely faded into humming the next line or two to wrap up his singing before smiling deviously as he heard footpads hitting stone behind him.

It's so easy, Let them go!
Turn yourself into ME!

"Ah, privet, comrade. I didn't notice you there."

Welcome to chaos!


Privet- Hello

1. Russian I don't feel like translating will be in actual Cyrillic. Like Netvarkai swearing. But anything in anglicized Russian, I'll put a translation for down at the bottom of the post.

2. Just be aware that most of my posts won't be this long, though I will hold to my mission to put at least 300 words per post.

3. the song he sings is The Pantheon from Bastion. that's what I envision his voice sounding like, only with a Russian accent.
Link to the song!



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