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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She looked as though she were coming from the wall, stone come to life with the shadows hiding her colors, just as he moved like the mists in which he had been born. He watched her take her time. The languid and easy movements making their subtle impressions on him.

The corner of his lips twitched. He could not hide who he was.

“More than most.” he affirmed. Being Blackthorne’s Commander painted a picture of him. Or at least the corner of a picture. “What are you to him?” Thorne did not have friend and most of those who were loyal were kept close. Family and selected families seemed to be treasures in Blackthorne’s eyes. Zharko’s own siblings seemed to have rallied around the Darkbringer, clinging to his heels like lost sheep. He could be claimed to be no better.

His head tilted to the side.”Causing trouble?” The Darkbringer was indeed the mastermind behind much of what was falling over Moladion. Zharko merely watched from the sidelines and ordered the pieces into place. Whereas Thorne seemed to desire to create a world of wild chaos, Zharko did not mind to merely watch it burn and sift through the ashes after for the resilient life. That was where the small wolf’s interests grew. “I don’t think you can accuse me of trouble.” For too long he had been careful to keep his head down, sliding through the world and holding the secrets Thorne had asked him to while carrying his own. With age and maturity his abilities had grown. Though the blood he had spilled still stained the Grotto, only two living beings could verify his guilt. Her, on the other hand. Between her scent and that of Blackthorne had Zharko unnerved. If his own bloodlines or associations were anything to compare to, there was something about this woman to be wary of. If it were not her scent, her comfort in the Grotto alone would have been enough to urge him to be cautious. “Is there specific trouble you are expecting from us?”


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