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: 65.29.75.36
Posted on January 1, 2018 at 08:19:24 PM by Olya
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Light breaks through the trees and causes her lids to flicker slowly, heavy with slumber. Sad skies of stormy blue sweep over the ground in front of her, and not for the first time in a long while, she woke up disoriented. She was nowhere, and yet she was everywhere. She had run away from everything she had ever known, good and bad. For the entirety of her life, it had been slavery that had been her purpose. She was not an individual, she was property, a beautiful delicate creature that was owned by another. Her choices were not choices at all, but rather a pre-determined set of events that she merely followed so that others could use and abuse her as they saw fit. But now? In the past few months, everything had changed and been altered. Olya had been certainly previously that the best day of her life had been when Farant had given her as a dowry gift to the Princess Lilith. She knew nothing at that period in time of the princess, but she knew that no one could possibly be as cruel as Farant and his soldiers were. If only the kalakess had known how true her words were. Lilith had seen her as a friend and a servant, and not at all like a slave. The princess had asked things of her, not demanded it. It was a welcome change to the previous painful existence that Olya had known, but never once had she forgotten who she was, or rather, what she was. She was a slave. She always had been, and she always would be. Or… had something changed? She had always been taught that kalaks were the superior species, that every other was just fodder for the canon, pawns to be disposed of to protect the higher characters in the war. But more than that, she had been taught that they could not be trusted. But Siku… all he had tried to do was protect her and help her. When her writhing and trembling had slammed her head down against the ground, he had cleaned her wound and treated it. But everything had gone wrong. They were… all of them supposed to live in Graes Waegholm. They were, all of them, supposed to stay there until the Council sent warriors to protect Lilith and bring her to the safety and sanctity of their womb of Faraway. But the warrior that had come had not been from the Council, but rather from Lilith’s own homeland. None of it, yet all of it fit. But it had destroyed Olya’s path, her predetermined future. But with Lilith’s death and the disappearance of her warrior, what was left? She had been taken hostage by Siku, or so it would appear. But she had ran from him, fled under the cover of night, and he had not chased after her. He had not tracked her down, not that day, not any day. Not any day since then… she had been all alone. And the loneliness had been torture enough for her. Winter had turned into spring, a new year had been gifted upon the earth… and she was still trying to process and figure out what exactly was sticking out of the flesh of her back. Olya had never been alone for this long, and she could not stay in this state of being - she needed company, even if it would result in discomfort, pain… or hell even torture. And then, of course, there was the question of whether or not Siku would even allow her back… Her long limbs unfolded and she only barely winced as she felt the poking and prodding and irritation along her dorsum, the splinters causing her endless amounts of discomfort, yet it was nothing that she was not used to. If anything, the pain was a comfort, a way of grounding her into a place she used to know. Never before had she assumed that pain would be comforting, that she would wish for the abuse… but… with lack of anything else, it was worth it. Slowly, she made her way down off of the mountain, picking her path carefully. She was acutely aware that this was the first time that her way had not been chosen for her, that her destination was hers alone to decide and it was terrifying. When she and Lilith ahd first come to Blossom Forest she had thought that she wanted free will… but now that she had it… she found it terrifying. Still, Graes Waegholm was the only place that she had any connection to now, and given that she had no idea where the other kalaks were (not that she wanted to find them now that Lilith was dead)... but she knew they were not in Graes Waegholm. She would be at least safe from them there… until they found her. Really, it was the only place she knew where to go. Minutes turned to hours, hours to days, and days to weeks until finally she found her way off of the mountain. Food was not particularly difficult for her - though she had been fed the tablescraps of her masters, it had never been enough to survive off of and she had taken to hunting… if it could be called that. She had merely become capable of catching small prey, things that other wolves would be ashamed to eat - voles, rats, squirrels and the like. But it was good enough for her… and so when at long last she crossed into the territory of Siku, she was not emaciated. Thin, yes, but she had always been thin and lithe. Trotting through the land, she saw that not much had changed. Winter had been king when she had last been here, but despite the color from white to the start of green, the land was just as it was. Cautiously, she crossed the boundary, and made to head toward toward her den...only… Siku was there, and the decrepit, small cave - if it could even be called that - that her and Lilith had used was now decorated. It was in the distance still, hardly a speck in her vision, but it was there… until it wasn’t. The ground shifted and the same steam she had seen before burned her vision and her skin. Before, it had been soothing, relaxing, but now it was sheer pain. A scream sought to crawl from her gaping lips but instead there was nothing but silence as the steam stole into her throat, down her trachea, invaded her bloodstream. Pain was once again the only thing she knew to be true, and she slipped away into unconsciousness. But the last thing her vision saw before faded away was the naked flesh of her own body, all of the hairs singed and burnt away from her… and in their wake was painfully and horribly grutesque layers of angry boils and blisters. |
| Olya Slave of her own Chains || No heart || Part of Graes Waegholm |
| ♥dante |
Replies:
- Wintery Devil - By Siku January 5, 2018 at 03:37:27 PM
A Handmaiden’s Tale - By Olya January 10, 2018 at 03:36:50 PM