Susil Crags

Disaster has struck!
The Crags are a series of rocky formations with small caves and crevices throughout. Many of the lower-lying areas of the Crags have been flooded, however, with water pouring in from the Northern stretches of Moladion. Some paths have been completely submerged, and some are nothing more than a few rocky peaks sticking out of the water. The water is fairly slow moving but begins to pick speed up towards the Grotto, becoming a series of intense rapids and waterfalls as it nears the Grotto's entrance.

The area itself is still traversible. However, it can be risky. Large amounts of debris can enter the waterway, creating bridges at times but also creating dams that break and cause ocassional flash-flooding. Be careful, travelers! One wrong step and you could end up finding out where the water goes.

Note: Susil Crags 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.

Return to Lunar Children

I'll turn into a monster for you [Mazi]
IP: 108.55.72.105

Life had never been particularly easy for Hart so what others might consider the harsh treatment by the leader of Iromar wasn’t much of anything to the boy. While some might question Blackthorne’s training methods or Gazmala’s psychological manipulation and coaching, Hart saw it as a means to an end. He would endure a great deal to get to what he wanted. His end goal being the ability to protect himself and survive in a world that was inherently unkind to those who were not a part of the homogenous society. Being different had cost him any sense of security a puppy usually had in their first year of life. The very fact that he was alive was due to sheer stubborn determination to exist and nothing else.

With a single meal in his starved belly a day, Hart was starting to fill out a little. His coat was still atrocious, not that he particularly cared, and his ribs still poked through but he was, for the first time in his life, not worried about where his next meal would come from. Well, no, that wasn’t entirely true. He would never fully trust that food was a given, even though it had been promised to him in return for his loyalty. But with the fear of starvation lessened, he was able to focus his energy on training rather than surviving. Building up muscle and pain tolerance. Learning to be stealthy from Gazmala, learning where and how to bite.

Despite life settling into something of a routine, Hart was finding that being around even just a dozen wolves so much of the time was taking longer to get used to than he expected. When a body was used to silence and solitude and expected the scorn of others, it was very hard to adjust when they then found themselves as an accepted member of a small, if twisted, society. This had led to him doing a bit of light wandering. Typically he would double his escapes as time to practice on his own, usually endurance or stealth training. Sometimes even just trying out a bit of hunting or tracking.

His current attempt to escape the press of too much company led him to the labyrinthine crags. It was a different terrain than the moors and would require him to adjust his stride and weight to move quietly. But he was up to the challenge and would not return to Iromar until he’d managed to move without disturbing a single pebble. Perhaps if he managed to sneak up on some unsuspecting small critter he’d also have himself a second meal for the day. Thorne had said, after all, that one meal a day would not be enough for him as he grew.


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