The Grotto

Disaster has struck!
Years ago, an earthquake broke open several entrances into a deep, winding series of subterranean systems. It was thought that deep below, underground rivers snaked their way below Moladion. Now, flooding in the Northern reaches of Moladion has proven this theory to be true.

The Grotto is almost entirely submerged. Many of the entrances are completely inaccessible, and those that are only extend a few hundred feet before ending in water. The lower entrances, however, act almost like a giant drain for Moladion. Water pours down into the Grotto's maw as powerful rapids and waterfalls, and large amounts of debris have build up throughout the area. It can be exceptionally dangerous to travel due to the risk of flash-flooding and dams suddenly breaking, but the Grotto does offer the most consistent access across the floodwaters because of those dams.

Note:The Grotto will return to normal once 25 posts have been completed (or at Staff discretion). During this time, new threads will receive a 'Surprise','Disaster', and prizes.

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Rage rage against the dying of the light - zuelika/zharko
IP: 174.196.138.62
Posted on January 24, 2017 at 04:50:58 PM by Zafira - Blackthorne

It is foolish of me to trust the shark smile that my newfound sister gives to me. She seems so nice and helpful and when she tells me she knows a place my tail begins to wag so hard that my whole body sways side to side. I grin at her, relief rushing across in tingles on my body. "Let's go!" I answer buoyantly, fairly dancing on my toes as she wanders off and inbound behind her. I haven't felt this energetic in a while but the prospect of family, friends, and food push me into a lighter mood. Zuelika, I think, is my savior, and I follow in the naive way that has become my very essence.

In truth I was stupid.

I had been called this many times and understood that it was because I wasn't as smart as my mom wanted me to be. Loud, annoying, clingy. But it doesn't stop me as we walk. And walk. And walk. I realize with a start that we are outside of Iromar and have traveled well past the borders and that the river that marked my home was well behind me. "Sister," I mumble uncertainly with my ears back and tail between my legs. "I think we went the wrong way." Only when she turns to me with a malicious smile and admits the true reason I find my hopes shattered. I was to be given to Eden as a slave, a gift, on orders of our father. Because I was useless otherwise. "Please, sister," I say in a begging gasp, crawling forward to try and lick beneath her chin. But a noise catches my attention and a flash of bodies in the forest makes my eyes flare. There is an audible growl from the shadows, menacing, and my fear pushes me into flight. I fly past Zuelika and down a prey path until I can hide myself between two huge boulders. In the distance I hear the ocean, not realizing I've fled across the border into Glorall.

------

After submitting to him, the other boy had been taken in as Blackthorne's friend. Of a sort. Zharko had proven himself by leaving cuts from his fast growing sharp teeth and claws across Blackthorne's face and chest and legs. In return his ear had been gnawed on and Thorne looked at the ravaging with something akin to pride. It marked the boy as his follower. And if Zharko didn't like it, well, they would fight again until he once more submitted. It was the way of the world and secretly (or not so secretly) The black and silver boy enjoyed the fight. The adrenaline rush and the pain that seemed to focus him. They had scoured the outlying woods of Glorall in search of prey and Blackthorne had begun to tell the other boy about his fathers teaching.

The weak deserved death, he said, but Thorne disagreed. Could not the weak be made stronger? So he bit a rabbit in the foot and let go to watch it hop away, pain causing it to hop awkwardly. "Now it will either die or get stronger," he said to the other boy, but there is a wicked gleam to his eye as he smells it's pain and fear in the air. It is the sound of a plaintive voice that draws him away from the unfortunate rabbit. One sharp look is given to Zharko before he begins stalking in the direction. He spies two wolves but as he growls he is rewarding with the fleeing back end of one and bites off a implacable, malevolent chuckle.

Then he steps from the shadows to spy the proud looking girl who had stayed behind. "You are trespassing," he says in a smooth, handsome voice. But it is cold, uninviting, and the twitch of his ears on either side of his silver cowlick belie his true intentions. He takes another step forward. "Trespassers are not permitted to live for such transgressions." For one this was no ones territory but it was now Blackthorne's and for two his statement was false. But this was a test for her and for the boy at his back.

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