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...


knives in your back [draven]

In the hazy amber light of the setting sun, the wolf’s fur took on a fiery quality, creamy blonde deepening to a rich copper that flickered brightly through the forest’s shadows. Blue eyes opened wide and suspicious; he flinched at every sound that hit his perked ears as if they were pebbles thrown at his face; his gait remained a quick, aggressive stride, yet it was clear from the tension in his spine that this veneer of anger would dissolve into panic at the right provocation. Thackery had always been on the small side: a compact prince of a wolf who was called “pretty” more than he was called “handsome.” Females tended to swoon over her sharp, intelligent features while males scoffed at his stature, not trusting the brute with the treacherous gaze. He’d managed to get this far in life with cruel brilliance. Thacks knew when to run, and when to poison his enemies when they weren’t looking. Right now . . . life had shoved him into more of a “run” situation.

“Dammit, dammit . . .” Shadows lengthened and deepened, the sun’s rays bleeding scarlet the farther they dipped below the horizon. Thackery did not fear the dark. In fact, he had always been most comfortable as a predator when blackness obscured his shorter silhouette and the only thing his prey noticed was the blinding flash of his fangs. However, the golden boy did fear the consequences of getting caught . . . so much that he’d raced through the portal glimmering on the outskirts of his old pack’s territory without a second thought. His sensitive nares had caught the scents of freedom just beyond the edges of a doorway that should not have been there—and he jumped. Now it was only a matter of time before those that called for his blood found the same bridge and gathered their balls to follow him. “Isn’t there anywhere to bloody hide in this godsforsaken place?”I

Thacks needed a cave. He could wedge himself into places nobody could reach—if they had the stones to come after him in the first place. Imagine his joy when the forest opened to a series of caverns yawning out of a raised hill of earth, as if sensing his desperation. An odd energy hummed around their fathomless openings . . . the naked pillars of quartz spearing across the clearing almost appeared to glow. Thackery shook his head, giving a growl. Surely it was only the last vestiges of greenish glow limning the dead sun’s grave; it was this final step before total night that always made the woods seem more magical than they were.

The princeling sniffed around until he found a cave with hardly a trace of wolf-scent. Smiling grimly, he darted in, relief blanketing him like the absolute darkness that swallowed the cavern’s bowels.


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