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Zukozu
Sikla
Cr?ft of Sarnes
Don't you wish you could hold, The pretty little paper doll, The one you couldn?t quite control
Posts: 144
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Victor
Aug 31, 2006 13:04:32 GMT -5
Post by Zukozu on Aug 31, 2006 13:04:32 GMT -5
[glow=black,9,000]She'd won. Victory was hers. That caniving, rotting skeleton of a varg was a fair fight - more than fair in fact - but she'd conquored and won her right to pass freely through these lands and become one of them. And of course, she'd brought the little whelp Channon with her as well. Though her use would come into play later - for now she was too young. Of course, she did not pass the borders unhurt. The fight with Tasá had badly wounded her right shoulder, giving the long legged bitch a severe limp, and her left hind quarter was bitten quite badly - though not enough to effect her movement. Zukozu grumbled slightly as she limped into the Denning site of Sarnes, the land no longer watery and muddy here, but solid ground - that she was thankful of.
On approaching the broad opening to the cavernous chambers of the pack den, the ebony faemme growled darkly as she stopped outside, allowing her tired frame to collapse in a heap of bloodied fur. She lay motionless for a few moments, appearing to have simply died on the spot. But with a simple flick of her broad ear and the opening of her fiery amber eyes, it was clear there was still much life left in her yet. Another growl of pain and frustration quivered within her throat as she lifted her head and looked at the bloody mess that was her shoulder. Wrinkling her muzzle in disgust, Zukozu merely pulled her eyes away and glanced around at the territory. So this was her Uncle's abode? Or at least one of them anyway. Once she met another...she'd question them. But for now, she took them time to lay her head down once again and rest in peace.[/glow]
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Victor
Sept 7, 2006 20:47:53 GMT -5
Post by Shunké on Sept 7, 2006 20:47:53 GMT -5
The bog surrounding Sarnes was thickening, hiding any presence of Tor or Fenris. The lands looked eerily gray, especially now as the bog had begun to thicken. No lera dare make a sound, for only the bog knew what was hiding in it’s thickened blanket. Not even the presence of a rather malnourished, black varg was known as she trotted upon her homeland. Not a sound, this Drappa’s paws made, on every long stride she took. Here eyes, strange indeed, seemed to pierce though the familiar bog. One eyes, the left, looked as if it was doused in blood. The right, shown a bright and disturbing gold color, as if reflecting her own inner madness.
Was a poor, pitiful sight, one would think upon first appearance. The fae’s skin stretched over her observable rip cage with every stretch of her long but muscular forelimbs. She may have looked sick in the eyes of another, but in reality, she was very much alive. Her coat just happened to be short and thin, robbing her of the average wolf-like bushy look; making her scars well visible to the naked eyes. A master of speed, of agility, one might say. And indeed, they might be right. However, Shunké was trained to put her naturally born talents to her training to the arts of the Nieten.
Since her training, the Drappa has indeed gained experience with her new talent. Even though, the last battle was bit of a disaster. ‘”Disaster”? Ha! It was a little more pathetic than that,’ a very familiar voice intruded, on Shunké’s own thought of her encounter with her long-lost brother. The fae’s stepping became off beat, just for a second, before she shook her head irritatingly. Tarquin was very much like a nat in the ear, irritating, and always buzzing about. It drove the fae insane at times, and unable to control her own body. Now, Shunké had less for him to feed off, since her becoming Drappa. It seemed, low self esteem was vital to his reign.
Black nares inhaled the stench of the marshlands around her, wafting different scents. Only did Shunké stop when she caught the sweet scent of- blood. Eyes widened as Shunké circled about, nose now upon the ground, tracing the scent. She could make out the smell of another varg, one who’s sent was woven with Sarnes. She was a Varg of Sarnes, that much was obvious.
It was in the Drappa’s best interest to find who was hurt, and how. If it was intruders- there would be trouble. The fae’s mind raced, was the new pack playing roughly already? She thought, picking up her pace. And who was hurt? How bad?
It was a matter of moments, bicolor oculars caught the sight of a bloodied heap of black, laying right outside the den mouth. Shunké stopped, her auds perked for any signs of life. The rise and fall of the fae’s chest, Zukozu’s chest, proved the fallen fae still held life within her. Shunké walked forward, head down, sniffing the fae a bit. Zukozu was new to the pack, and as far as Shunké could tell, a rather loyal member. “Who did this to you?” Shunké growled. Though her vocals were deep, her words were woven with a sense of care.
//very sorry for the delay, and how choppy this post must look. It'll get better, they always do.//
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Zukozu
Sikla
Cr?ft of Sarnes
Don't you wish you could hold, The pretty little paper doll, The one you couldn?t quite control
Posts: 144
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Victor
Oct 28, 2006 11:05:39 GMT -5
Post by Zukozu on Oct 28, 2006 11:05:39 GMT -5
[glow=black,4,000]A familiar scent, that she had now learnt to grow aquired to, floated in on the damp air towards her twitching nares. The slim faemme lifted her tired head and watched as the Sarnes Drappa made her way towards her wounded pack member. Growling lightly in greeting, Zukozu soon quietened when she saw the urgent look in Shunké’s eyes. Cocking one of her broad ears, she remained silent for a few minutes before shrugging slightly – a plan was beginning to form in her twisted mind. Allowing her head to flop back onto the wet earth, she let out a pained whine and shuddered her torn shoulder. “Oh it was horrible Shunké. They were all over me, I could barely stand my ground against the beasts,” she whispered quietly, almost as if she were afraid that another would hear her. Rolling her lantern amber eyes back in their sockets, she closed them tightly and winced, wrinkling her ebony muzzle into the beginnings of a snarl. “I fought as best I could, but they were too strong for me to wound them badly,” she whispered further. Then suddenly her eyes flashed open, her pupils – having been used to the darkness behind her lids – were so large that there was almost no amber left to be seen. Turning her muzzle sharply round to Shunké’s she whined pitifully, rolling over and landing hard on her torn shoulder. Yowling out in true pain – for she had not intended to make such a stupid mistake – the bitch snarled angrily and struggled up onto her paws, tenderly licking her oozing wound. Flicking her gaze back towards Shunké, she flattened her auds and lowered her head to the Drappa. “Ge-Rad,” she growled darkly, her fire-like eyes flickering with a hidden menace. Zukozu managed to suppress a wicked grin, though she was unsure whether her twitching lips would give it away. She knew well of her uncle’s hate for the pack. She knew well from being the sneak that she was of how the Alphas of Ge-Rad had betrayed this pack and her uncle's trust. And now, now she had an opportunity herself to meddle in the pack’s dealings. Trouble would hopefully stir…
((Sorry for the craptastic post. But hey, I got something done eventually!))[/glow]
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Victor
Nov 7, 2006 11:19:43 GMT -5
Post by Shunké on Nov 7, 2006 11:19:43 GMT -5
Auds flickered; trying to display her rage, yet stand alert to any unwelcome visitors. The sound of the troubled and injured young craeft’s vocals made ebony lips slip upward, slightly. Glossy crimson hued daggers peek to the open air, though somewhat cold. “What beasts?” Shunké whispered again, almost urgently. Zukozu’s own whispering vocals made the Drappa unconsciously resort to her own low tone, giving the grim feeling she was talking to someone on their death bed. Though Zukozu’s wounds did indeed look serious, the fae was sure she would pull through. Well, hope, more like it.
Bicolor eyes widened and snapped to attention, watching the almost possessed movement of the young ebony fae, her features turning into anger. Her movements were pitiful indeed, as she told of being too weak to fight off the well built beasts. Being outnumbered probably didn’t help the matter, and only made her odds of winning worse. Unintentionally snorting in disgust, the Drappa’s mind began to race. ‘was it a pack? Or just a band of outcasts? What could drive such creatures to inflict such merciless harm?’ In a strong turn of emotions, Shunké chuckled to herself, remembering where she was. It was not uncommon for her own pack to commit such a crime. Though, it wasn’t really a “crime” by their standards.
‘Don’t be so naïve, to believe such a display. Open your eyes, wench!’ snarled the voice again. Shunké just snarled aloud, Tarquin was obviously out of whack. “You’re such an idiot,” she whispered back, suppressing a growl.
Attention back on the younger minion, the growl of one word seemed to make the moment stand still. Eyes once again widened even further, if possible. Her jaw momentarily became slack, before clenching furiously once again. Long, black legs began to quiver with rage, as the name of that damned packed echoed in the hollow of her mind.
Memories flooded back, most unpleasant. That pack had caused her to lose everything she cared about, no doubt her mind among that. “Are you telling me,” her voice quivering dangerously, “That they attacked you?” Her brain slowly beginning to function, she knew that once word around the territory got out, Ge-Rad would soon be getting another visit. Zukozu just ripped a band-aid off the skin, and the old wound that never healed was throbbing infectiously now.
//very sorry, I need to get back in shape.//
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Emberlily
Sikla
Beridan Femme .:Sarnes~ Intoxicating Snake:.
x|She's just another whxre...to bad she's beautiful|x
Posts: 318
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Victor
Nov 7, 2006 23:43:42 GMT -5
Post by Emberlily on Nov 7, 2006 23:43:42 GMT -5
A sleeek shape slipped through the marshes. Ruby dusted spine quivering as it exited the murky waters that engulfed the hell hole of Sarnes. It. What exactly was it. It was a snake, a slippery fiend. The bitch licked her maw, green-old orbs tickling the scene around her. Curved talons dug into the mud below her as the cold water lapped at her skin, turning her coat of ivory into a muck of brown and grey.
She slinked to the shored lifting herself onto the banks, her throat vibrating with a melody of growls as she slipped out. The ivory bitch padded forward, her paws still sinking into the soft muddy terra. By now the she wolf did not care, she was used to her playground and its difficulties. Oh how fun it was to watch intruders, dancing their merry way itno Sarnes, only to find themselves stuck in the mud or hardly able to wak across the spongy terrain. Emer loved sitting there watching like a vulture that watched its find, waiting for it to give the last breath before it tore into its still warm flesh. Yet ember did not wait till it gave its last breath. No playing with carcasses was never fun, eating them, well that was pretty swell. But it was much more fun tormenting a desprate struggler.
The whore crested onto dry lands as she neared the Sarnes den. Black tipped ears swivveled on her cranium as the serpent waited. Something new and exciting was ready to hatch. Ember Lily grinned when the tell tail shriek of pain met her ear drums. Oh sweet music. Ember Lily almost puurred at such a sweet lullaby. And like a lullaby, it lulled her towards the maker of such a song.
Spine tingling the beridan paused, leaning against the gnarled trunk of a dead willow. There she saw her drappa standing over a a messed up form. It was bloodied all over, the scent of blood tasty as Ember watched from her roost. So she was attacked? Ember smirked and gave a bemused snort. The whore blinked as she listened to her story of the ge rad vargs and how she was mobbed. Anger tickled the she varg, but revenge tasted sweeter, much sweeter. Ember padded towards the two ebon she vargs. Hereyes turned to view Zukozu "Really now? Almost torn to shreds by a pack of mutts? Beautiful..." The voice of ember lily tickled. Snake like eyes raked the she wolf before they turned to view Shunke. "So what do we have here?"
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Victor
Nov 26, 2006 15:06:42 GMT -5
Post by Shunké on Nov 26, 2006 15:06:42 GMT -5
//Again, sorry it took so long. and, how old is Zukozu now? For some reason, I keep thinking she's still a cub...//
Erect auds almost missed the silent slither of The Snake, who now joined the duo. It was Ember Lily, the Beridan Fae of Sarnes, the third of the ever most “popular” Nightmare Trio. No one could miss her voice, which rang out in the sexiest of ways, that Shunké was sure that no one could ever match it. It was binding, her voice, that she was sure no mann could easily loosen it’s grasps. Popping, bicolor eyes turned to the ivory and redwood speckled fae, her own maw lacked as her lungs huffed. “Ember..” she breathed lowly, her voice almost inaudible. Shunké was still slightly worked up from the knowledge that she just learned. There was so much history, so many details that could be giving between the two rivaling pack, but now isn’t the time nor the place.
“That pack of mutts,” Shunké started, regaining herself, “Needs to be taught some manners,” the ebony fae growled. Long legs began to pace up and down the land, her ebony head down, thinking to herself. “Disgraceful… disgraceful…” She seemed to be speaking to herself, trying to make sense of the whole thing. ‘Don’t you find it odd, that the pack would suddenly attack a Sarnes varg?’ Growled a certain some-one from the back of Shunké’s mind. ‘That the pack’s enemy- the one that least wants to start trouble, just up and attacks? What’s the motive?! Fool, it’s too obvious, the cub is lying! But by all means, go ahead and attack Ge-Rad. Kill yourself. See what I care.’ Shunké snarled aloud, but he was right. Why would Ge-Rad attack? But there were so many possibilities- so much that could have started the whole thing. “I’m not quite sure… how… where… why…” her raspy voice trailed off again, as her brain went into overdrive, thinking of any and all explanations.
‘If Zukozu was in Ge-Rad territory, there would be cause for an attack. But in such a brutal fashion, on such a young fae? It could be possible. But then again- it would be a different story, if she were attacked out in the open, in no-man’s land, perhaps? Our of any territory? Surely, that would be unjust. True, fights do happen in that scrap of land, but to gang up on one? That- that wasn’t right. Not even for Ge-Rad. Even worse, Zukozu could have been attacked inside the boundaries, or even lured to the edge? Now that was surely something. And the motive- that was an easy one. The many attacks on Ge-Rad, and the stolen cub, right out from under Cwen’s and Draeg’s nose. Yes, yes- surely, that’s it…’
Shunké stopped her pacing, sure that there was no more doubt in her own head. Turning back to the young Zukozu, Shunké looked her up and down; surely there was no way she would have made it here from Ge-Rad. Still, the fae rushed back beside Zukozu, like a mother rushing back to her lost cub. “I‘ll explain in a second, Ember…” Shunké breathed in the passing of Ember. “Zukozu, where did they attack you? How many? Did you recognize any of them?” the Drappa breathed hurriedly, forgetting her soft whispers.
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Dane
Sikla
Shattered Nieten of Sarnes
You called me out; I shrugged you off.
Posts: 161
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Victor
Nov 28, 2006 20:54:44 GMT -5
Post by Dane on Nov 28, 2006 20:54:44 GMT -5
He had been traveling now for most of the day, and night was closing in upon him. The eye of Fenris was becoming less of a sight to see in the forests of Transylvania, as winter was on its way, slowly killing everything in its icy path, save for the inhabiting Lera. Dark, foreboding clouds were rolling in to hint at the oncoming storm that would soon flood the swamps, no doubt. His large, creme colored paws stepped swiftly over the surprisingly hard ground that must have froze up during the night. It was a welcome change from the usually soggy ground that caused one to slip and side in the mud, though in some areas it was still an unwelcome place to tread.
His travels had taken him to a meadow out of the reach of his new home. It was there that he met a young Varg named Scarlet who shared more in common with him than he had though. She had shown him the kindness he was unused to, and was perhaps even considered a friend now in his mind. Why he had left Sarnes so soon after being admitted was unknown, though the most probable explanation was that he needed to. Having been a Kerl for most of his life, he was not used to family life anymore. Over a year of isolation had conditioned him for a life of solitude, though he was coming to find that being part of a family again was just what he needed. It was something he would have to ease in to, perhaps taking time off here and there when he could until he felt completely comfortable enclosed within the borders and with his packmates...
Dane had actually never met any of his "family" besides his Drappa, though he was eager to see what they were like. Perhaps tomorrow he would make it a point to seek them out and introduce himself. For now, he was tired from his journey and wanted little more than to curl up in the confines of his den and sleep. Mismatched eyes searched in the darkness for the entrance to the maze, one a piercing icy blue and the other an unnerving hue of amber. Before he caught sight of the den, a familiar scent made its way to his nares. The intoxicating fumes of blood were everywhere surrounding the den, and his dark auds flattened to hug the back of his skull. Should he approach and see who was there, blocking the entrance? Or should he just forget completely about his den and find somewhere else to stay the night? Something within his mind took hold and made the decision for him. You're no pup anymore, it encouraged, You're a Nieten! A Warrior of Sarnes. Now get in there and prove your bravery! With his mind made up, he took a deep breath to prepare himself and approached the den, where he sighted more Varg than he had expected to see. The first one he noticed was recognizable as his Drappa, Shunke, who was staring down at a younger Fae he had never seen before. The younger one was badly injured on her shoulder and flank, and it was her blood that filled the air. The last Varg was an attractive ivory Fae, her beauty masked in a cover of mud from the swamp. He could sense something was wrong, and that the injured Fae was probably one of Sarnes' own. Expressing his concern, he spoke up rather than remaining silent like a startled cub. "What's happened here?" If ordered to, he would help find the ones responsible and tear them to shreds as a sign of loyalty to his new family.
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Zukozu
Sikla
Cr?ft of Sarnes
Don't you wish you could hold, The pretty little paper doll, The one you couldn?t quite control
Posts: 144
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Victor
Jan 12, 2007 11:22:31 GMT -5
Post by Zukozu on Jan 12, 2007 11:22:31 GMT -5
[glow=black,4,000]((Sooooo sorry guys. But i'm here and ready to post!! With a slight hangover...so I do apologise for it being a little rough >.< )) You killed the cause, this keeps repeating Live through the loss now, redeem your enemies Recycled thoughts, feed your delusion Your lie outgrows you, become it's own truth A serpant like varg emerged from the marshes, sleek and sly on silent paws. Her beauty was masked by an unmistakable wickedness, and almost immediately Zukozu was intrigued. Her lantern orbs flickered with interest towards the ivory faemme named Ember. But the words that came from Shunké's muzzle brought her back to the living and she started slightly, a flinch of pain shuddering her wounded shoulder. Their Drappa was clearly confused about the situation and thinking deeply about the possibility of the situation. The younger faemme’s black heart began to thump suddenly. She had never been nervous about a situation like this before, though suddenly it began to dawn on her than the varg here were just like her. They knew what the mind was like…and how twisted one could be. Could they possibly see through her ploy? And the motive. What exactly was her motive? Zukozu wasn’t quite sure. All she knew was the sheer hatred this pack and her Uncle held for Ge-Rad. For what their Drappa had done so long ago. She was unsure of the details…but a betrayal was definitely the cause for such hatred. The ebony bitch knew that revenge was in order. A surprise attack. Or a betrayal of their own. If somehow Zukozu could breach the pack’s borders and gain some form of trust between Draeg and herself, then an attack surely would be unexpected. It was perfect. Blank, staring hues blinked and a fire was brought back to light. A wicked grin had slowly crept its way across her ebony muzzle without her realising. And as swiftly as she’s felt it, it had vanished – replaced by a far more sinister stare. Broad auds perked up to listen to the Drappa as she asked her final questions, putting the Beridan’s question on hold. And only a moment before Zukozu opened her muzzle to speak, another varg entered the scene and asked his own question of confusion. The ebony faemme’s fiery hues darted to the male’s larger form and eyed him curiously. There would be time to get to know these varg better later. But her plan was soon to unfold…if only she could keep her thundering heart under control. Continuing to stare in the general direction of the male, slowly but surely moving her eyes back to Shunké through her speech, Zukozu spoke. “I had strayed unknowingly too close to their borders. My mind was tired with hunger and my nose focused on the scent of an injured rabbit…I had no idea that I was hunting within the borders of the pack. A lone wolf caught sight of me, who it was I have no idea – I only know of their Alphas. It was a male, that I am aware of. His pelt was white,” she paused – making the entire thing up as she went along and waiting for a mere moment to see if this would cause a stir. Without waiting a moment longer, she swiftly continued to seem less suspicious, “and he let out a warning howl to the rest of the pack. Before I knew what was happening, he was on me like an owl on an unsuspecting vole. He had me pinned, claws digging deeply into my chest. Soon enough the rest of the pack were behind him for back up and they tore into me like a pack of mindless hound dogs. I fought back as best I could and in the end managed to escape their borders. They didn’t follow me,” she growled in a deeply serious tone. Suddenly, raising a brow with the thought, Zukozu had remembered something told on the winds that could prove interesting. A slight curve tickled the edge of her lips as her head lowered. “Draeg was amongst them I do recall. Yet …there was no Drappa by his side,” she whispered almost silently, creating a great emphasis on the strangeness to the situation. She waited patiently, and motionlessly, for a response.[/glow]
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Emberlily
Sikla
Beridan Femme .:Sarnes~ Intoxicating Snake:.
x|She's just another whxre...to bad she's beautiful|x
Posts: 318
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Victor
Jan 19, 2007 0:49:20 GMT -5
Post by Emberlily on Jan 19, 2007 0:49:20 GMT -5
Embers eyes watched the black ffea with visionaries of utter suspicion. The cooings of hunger tickled the insides of her stomach. Was this what her sister felt everytime she was hungry? That carcass eating sister of hers would love to have dug her jaws into this wolf. Too bad Kiora was not here. No worries. Ember thought. She hadnt had wolf meat in the longest while anyways.
The slender femme blinked. Tasting the air with her tongue, like a snake seeking its prey with its forked tongue. She looked over the wounds of the femme, the fresh scent of blood perfume to her senses. It drew her a step closer. But the hurry hustle of Shunke made her stay stiff. Almost dissapointed, as if Shunke had hung a fresh piece of herla infront of her nostrils only to take it away last minute, and snapping jaws finding nothing but empty air. So ember waited, her ail curled neatly around her feet as her cranium turned, golden-green eyes pinned on the faint form of Dane. But the femme paid no heed, nor did she bother to get up from her seat to greet the packmate. This was like a front row seat, why would she move now?
And so the bitches story was told. Ember giggled playing the mauling in her head. The sight of incisors tearing into the meaty flesh. The feme shook her head ou" was so much from the heart. Those feelings are so real. You could only know them by experiencing them...like others and myself have done. There are others in your area, Twin Cities. If you would like to get in touch with them let me know and WE will do it. ..Ed
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Dane
Sikla
Shattered Nieten of Sarnes
You called me out; I shrugged you off.
Posts: 161
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Victor
Jan 29, 2007 1:17:02 GMT -5
Post by Dane on Jan 29, 2007 1:17:02 GMT -5
His mismatched orbs squinted in confusion as he observed the injured Fae and took in her every action. For a fraction of a second she seemed unsure of herself, of her story, of the minds of the Varg surrounding her. Did they believe her, truly? That was just what Dane was trying to figure out, but deciphering her thoughts proved to be more difficult than one might think. He knew nothing of GeRad or its leaders, which only complicated the matter for he could find no truth where truth may have very well been lurking. Just as quickly as she had paused to debate her situation, the ebon female's eyes were alight again, shining with the brilliance of madness.
Auds partially pinned back, it was obvious he was unsure whether or not this Fae could be trusted. Was she even a part of his pack? Why did his Drappa care so dearly about her that she would even consider her tricksy words? Letting his eyes wander about the cave, he subtly checked to see if any of its other inhabitants were buying into this story so he could better decide whether or not he should as well. The ivory Fae known as Ember seemed amused by the whole ordeal, while Shunke, his Drappa, was first in a state of shock and disbelief which soon turned to motivation for a counter attack. He nodded silently to her in greeting as he was acknowledged, and listened to the words spill from her slender maw as she paced to and fro.
There’s only room enough for two savage packs in these lands
Falling back onto his haunches, the young male was confused. Could she be talking about Sarnes, really? He had been sorely misinformed and couldn't help but feel he had made a grave mistake in stumbling into this little gang. Was it worth having a family if you had nothing in common? He pondered the last time he had seen Dakota and Kacia, it had been so long... No doubt he had been forgotten and it was truly time to make his own decisions. Having anyone was better than having no one, no matter who the company might be, he resolved, if only for the moment. He would fight alongside his packmates against this violent GeRad pack, his only remaining question was who would ally with Sarnes to provide the 'help'?
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Zukozu
Sikla
Cr?ft of Sarnes
Don't you wish you could hold, The pretty little paper doll, The one you couldn?t quite control
Posts: 144
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Victor
Jan 31, 2007 6:06:11 GMT -5
Post by Zukozu on Jan 31, 2007 6:06:11 GMT -5
[glow=black,4,000]At the mere mention of a white varg, the ebony faemme noticed the stiff stature her Drappa had adopted – clearly she had hit a tender spot. Smothering a grin, Zukozu had merely continued her tale until she could think of nothing more to add. The snickering bitching that went on between Shunké and Ember about the strange absence of a Drappa intrigued her sorely, for she had heard information on Cwen and Draeg, but nothing of a second. She masked her curious stare and winced once more as her injured shoulder began to spasm. Lifting her lids until they were mere slits she glanced towards Dane, the young male who had wandered in upon the grouping. He seemed confused, worried almost; a sinister sneer slowly began to stretch across Zukozu’s muzzle once more. Pulling herself up onto trembling, weak legs she shook herself down, splattering a concoction of both tried and liquefied blood in all directions. Broad auds perked as she listened closely to what her Drappa had to say, the young ebony bitch chuckled darkly. A battle was on the horizon, and fresh blood would be spilt. And the reason? A lie. Her own little white lie. Fabulous.
Her chest shook lightly with the chuckle, but she quieted herself smoothly as she caught the look of slight uncertainty from Shunké. Sure enough the pack was small in numbers and help would need to be taken onboard. Lucky for her, she knew the Balkar and Sarnes were linked by her uncle; at last, a chance to meet him! Unluckily, Zukozu had no idea that he was no longer the First of the Balkar, nor Dragga to Sarnes. In fact, he was nothing. He had mysteriously left these lands without a trace. Not to mention Cnwe, the betrayer of Sarnes and Serg, had died. And so without this knowledge, her wicked plan was in vain. Nothing but a little bit of mix-up fun. “Will we be calling the Balkar to aid? I shall also bring little Channon along. It’s about time she had a little realization of this world,” she growled darkly, planning now to go in search of the little whelp before the ambush took place.[/glow]
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Victor
Feb 2, 2007 22:31:14 GMT -5
Post by Captain Z on Feb 2, 2007 22:31:14 GMT -5
The bitter winter settled in, tearing through the dark forests, the winds sparking the aggravating moans and whines of the willows, whos limbs cried its venomous emerald into the frozen terra. The mists plagued the marshes, its everlasting secrets grew thick, as it silently drifted past him onto the beach of the mainlands. Its shallow body moved like a phantom, leaving no trace and bearing no view into its cold heart. With the cold heart, it beared the body of another with a malicious mind and a deadly conscious. The phantom's own tooth and claw, of which it masked so you would never fear, while it silences your screams, so your never found.
Leaving the beach, the crimson paws met the frigid marsh, as dark hued bodice cut through the thick swamp of the Sarnes. The black claws ripped through the undergrowth, as the male drowned into the darkness of the venomous emerald waters. He knew the lands better now, after visiting countless times, with the former first, and then to visit their former drappa Eveline, of who he created some lust around. Yeah, of course he knew the lands, if he could keep such a secret from the former first. The male smirked, as he landed on the rocky shore within the borders of sarnes.
Rightfully with the convenient disappearance of the first, these lands were owed to his paws, although he chose to leave its order to who Eveline wished it. He never bothered to inquire much about Sarnes, since, for its name was taken with the collars of the insane and twisted. Far from the balkar kind of twisted. These were all putnar misled and unwanted from birth. Mistakes if you will. However, some of them managed to put on impressive displays for themselves, of which he was to inquire for his own amusement. And if he saw something worthwhile, perhaps he'd free them from this little asylum, and place them where he'd make use of them.
The caverns of Sarnes was the little prison where the animals of this pack were to be kept. The First knew not whether bloodlust was something he needed to become numb to here, yet it was something he caught wind of. Blood never meant good things, and he loved the thought of that. His coat was shaken free of the venomous marsh water, leaving a valiant coat of royal black, phantom grey, and bittersweet crimson. His cold blue eyes shot into the prison like caverns, tearing into the darkness of its many channels. "Where lay the animals of broken spirit and dark beauty,"whispered the First coldly into the darkness. The bloodlust amplified, as his savage hunger for blood burned into his blood, making him a beast alike. The passionate sense of aggression and twisted cruelty boiled as the male grew eager to meet whatever monster lay on its knees. If not a dying cub, he'd make a full quart of blood from someone. His sweet tooth ached, as he met the assembly of the Sarnes beasts. His hackles sank, for no casualty of Tasa waited to quench his crave. Only the blooded mess of Serg's worthless relative.
"Awh, little'lun, shame it be to be in such a mess. The night hunter smirked, his cold saphires met that of the young fae, before he tore them away without any intrest. He padded beside and away of Zukozu, chosing a mass of unpicked herla bones over the lustful fae. "Aid?"The First smirked aloud. "Maybe its you who has forgotten that Serg isnt here to look after you no longer. Deal with your pains runt, " The First extracted his claws into the terra, clenching the broken ribcage and licking it clean. The First paused a moment, peering up and giving a twisted smole upon his cranium."Or can Sarnes not deal with their own matter? Sweeten me a deal, and bodies will fall."
//Sorry this post was atrociousssssss. Im going down hill\\
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Victor
Feb 4, 2007 18:36:18 GMT -5
Post by Carnage on Feb 4, 2007 18:36:18 GMT -5
The darkened sky made it impossible to decipher the time of day. Fenris no longer showed his face in the heavens, too afraid of the darkness it seemed to cast any light upon the frigid forest. Occasionally a gust of wind would whip through the trees, evoking screams of disapproval from the bare trees as their branches clattered together and some became entangled. It brought with it a bitter chill that ruffled the pelts of those unfortunate enough to be wandering without a warm den to return to. The lumbering beast's ebony pelt blended in perfectly with the bland winter darkness, though the odd patches of orange that plagued his pelt prevented him from remaining hidden. Such was why he was not dubbed a master of espionage, but instead, a ruthless warrior.
A large orange paw stepped forward only to find the unstable ground filled with mud before him, staining the bright color of his paw an unsightly dark brown. As the beast brought his paw up again, it made a disgusted sucking sound as the suction released his foot from the grasp of the mud. Shaking what mud he could from his paw with a sickened expression on his orange face, it was not what Carnage had expected for his first visit to Sarnes territory. In front of him by a few yards was Ziev, The First, whom he was accompanying on a not-so-routine-anymore check up on the allied pack. His mammoth-like frame prevented him from passing over the muddy terrain as swiftly as the Nihtgenge he was following, though what he lacked in agility he made up ten fold with strength. The Lead Lacan was built more like a bear than a Varg, his entire body cloaked in ebony fur save for his belly and face, his two front legs and an odd patch on his back- all of which were painted an orange as brilliant as man's fire. He trekked on through the mud, large paws leaving messy prints of the way he had come, hoping they would soon reach their destination and be rid of the slippery ground.
He didn't know much of the pack whose lands they were visiting, except that they were allied with The Balkar and consisted of members who were perhaps even more twisted than the blood-thirsty males. Outcasts they were, with no where else to go; unwanted by any other of the packs in Transylvania, they had banded together and started their own. It was the pack most sought who were either not worthy of holding the title of Balkar, or who were of the female gender and whose ranks into the Night Hunters were forbidden.
A few steps more and a change rocked the seemingly gray world of the dismal swamp. Blood. The scent was strong, indicating a nasty injury and possibly even a death. his hackles spiked like needles on a seismograph as a chill was sent down his spine. The scent of blood was one he was of course familiar with, and it always gave him a rush to know that he could have a hand in spilling it. Filled with a new purpose, he picked up his feet and finally made it to more solid ground, where he proceeded to shake his long pelt free of most of the murky swamp water that had infested it. Following Ziev to the mouth of the dens, the toxic haze was only amplified, further provoking an attack of bloodlust on the Halloween-colored monster. Peering through the opening with his blazing amber orbs, he made out the form of a fallen Fae on the ground within; it was she that possessed the wounds which they were savoring. He vaguely remembered her from an earlier encounter in Balkar territory, where she had been accompanied by her little tag-a-long, Channon. The alabaster bitch who had displayed a ridiculous amount of dominance for her young age, even at the receiving end of his iron jaws. It seemed though, that the foolish cub was not with her caretaker now, of that he was glad.
He and The First had been standing outside when they had overheard talk of requesting aid from the all-male pack. So, it seemed that the notorious Sarnes was not as capable as they had built themselves up to be. He couldn't help but let his trademark grin slide over his orange muzzle as he padded inside, his large body further crowding the already occupied den. Within its walls, the scent of blood was overwhelming and his pupils grew smaller for a moment, adding to his crazed expression. "So this is my first impression of Sarnes? How disappointing," he spoke in a deep, rich tone. At Ziev's last words he gave a deep growl for emphasis. He was eager to get this party started, and if what they said was true, and an attack was to befall GeRad, there would be no doubt that he would be in the middle of it.
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Victor
Feb 6, 2007 10:05:19 GMT -5
Post by Tor on Feb 6, 2007 10:05:19 GMT -5
Sunset was swiftly taking place over the day’s activities, not that there were many to count in such times. Life in the land had grown bland and dormant. Winter was often a time of peace, even though many starved or froze – especially in a winter like this. Wolfbane had blessed the land with horrific storms, freezing temperatures and the constant threat of heavy snowfall. And yet, the beast loved it. He lavished the cold, biting winds and the dense snow showers that fell frequently. After all, Charcaroth was an enormous varg and could barely feel the chill through his thick layers of dense ebony fur and loose, sagging fat. Yet muscle rippled beneath his limbs – for though he was a heavyweight, the Second of the Balkar was the previous Lead Lacan, and a true born warrior. Massive coal paws tread through the rifts of virgin white snow, breaking the beauty with his brute. The monster was as ugly as sin – it was plain to see in his disfigured features. However, the beast had an incredible charm to him that was able to soften the hearts of most fae. He denied his fierce appearance and simply saw himself as a God; able to attract any faemme and have his way with them. Sinister? Of course. He was a Balkar varg after all.
A single emerald hue observed the scene ahead. The other, holding an uncanny resemblance to the moon Goddess Tor, stared blindly ahead; unseeing. The fallen snow had already been broken and disturbed by others – the scents of which still clung to the wet snow. His First and the newly appointed Lead Lacan had already passed through the Balkan borders and were on their way to Sarnes. Carcharoth had picked up their tracks not long after they had left and decided to follow on suit, hoping for some sort of entertainment. And if nothing of interest was happening, he’d merely seek out the most interesting fae to charm. What else was a varg to do? On entering the marshlands, the sodden earth had a crisp film of ice settled on top – though with the brute’s weight it was simply turned into slush by the time he’d dragged his sagging carcass through it. It was surprising that the land had not completely frozen over, for most of the forest had. Yet this land of course belonged to a strange creature, a skeletal varg that haunted the lands and sickeningly trapped anything that enters them. It was unlikely the watery earth would be allowed to settle and ice over.
It was not long until the fresh scent of blood reached his sensitive nasal and his single aud stood on end. A long, silver scar ran down the ogre’s face and straight through his right eye – the one that was in fact blind. An old war-wound that the secret of it he held dear to him, wearing it like a trophy. The only varg he could in fact remember telling was the little skank of a Dragga from Ge-Rad; Draeg. But that was long before the little whelp had even made his way up to such a rank. Continuing now on following the scent of blood, Carcharoth entered the looming entrance to the Sarnes dens, his sagging underbelly swaying grotesquely in the dim light as he came upon a gathering of varg – two of which were his fellow pack mates. Grinning darkly he came to a stand still next to a smaller male whose eyes were like his own – two-toned. Yet it was clear this varg wasn’t blind like himself, for both had pupils. Averting his gaze now to the trembling form of a young faemme, he licked his chops in a teasing manner. The youth was no longer a cub – that much was clear – yet her stature showed that she was still in the early stages of adulthood. And the similarity to the previous First was unreal. If he didn’t look twice, he’d have thought Serg’s feminine side had decided to join them. Cocking an aud he listened to Ziev’s words, sudden interest growing inside him. He chuckled darkly and looked back to Zukozu. “What a sorry state you’re in. You’d look far more attractive without the blood dripping off of you. You look more appetizing to eat rather than woo,” he growled in a teasing fashion, emerald gaze swiftly landing of the delightful form of Ember Lily.
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Zukozu
Sikla
Cr?ft of Sarnes
Don't you wish you could hold, The pretty little paper doll, The one you couldn?t quite control
Posts: 144
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Victor
Feb 6, 2007 10:38:01 GMT -5
Post by Zukozu on Feb 6, 2007 10:38:01 GMT -5
[glow=black,4,000]Appearing as if out of nowhere, two large figures entered the circling of Sarnes varg – and funnily enough both of them she had met not long before her acceptance into Sarnes. Ziev was the varg she had run into whilst leaving Amber to be chased through the undergrowth of the Balkan terrain by the fiery looking monster Carnage. He had refused to allow her access to her Uncle Serg, and now – for the first time – she learnt why. He had vanished. His mocking, teasing words only made her blood boil as she glared at him with wildfire eyes, willing him to be set alight so that she could watch him smolder before her. The idea played in her mind for a moment, replacing her glare with a sinister grin. Yet the prospect of a deal suddenly brought her back to reality. Perking her broad ears and switching her gaze back to Shunké, the ebony faemme awaited a reply. For the aid of the Balkar would be a great help to the small pack’s chances of a victory against the numerous varg of Ge-Rad. Sitting tightly on her haunches, she growled in pain as her shoulder once more began to spasm, her lips twitching with the urge to bite another so they could share her pain. The uncaring words of Ziev did little to her dignity, for she was handling her wounds far better than any varg her age. If she had been larger and stronger, the faemme would have had little resistance to attempt an attack of the First. But the idea in itself was simply stupid. Another large brute entered the scene before Shunké could speak, this time a far more misshapen beast. His teasing words were responded with nothing more than a quiet growl and a devilish stare. It was not polite to stare another in the eye, especially one with a far higher ranking than yourself. But Zukozu was already in a sorry state – so she cared not about the rest of her.[/glow]
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