Tricks And Treason - KIDNAPPED

[Serg]

The face of Tor hung low i the sky, and Fenris burnt in the sky. It was unusual for the moon to be out whilst the sun still shone, but that was exactly what two great black vargs had been counting on.

Chanting and howling, a black Dragga and the great black Lead Lacan of the Balkar had performed an ancient ritual, and storm clouds started to gather in each of the four corners of the heavens.

Quailing under the powers that held no love for any God, the face of the gentle moond goddess Tor shrunk and shied towards the blazing face of Fenris. Together they met in the heavens, and the eye of Tor went dark and the eye of Fenris was blocked, only a few rays sputtered in his fury out of this strange prison gboth the gods had been shunned into. But they weren't kept in this great homes for long. With unearthly howls of pain that seemed like they would shatter the earth the two gods were flung from the heavens and imprisoned, but where, none but the two great black draggas and probably, the Evil One Wolfbane knew.

Dark and unnaturally thick clouds broiled and writhed in the sky, and the darkened heavens and the unnaturally dark eyes of the two wolf gods were hidden from view. An unnatural evil night had spread across the lands of Transylvania. All the lera cowered in fear, but what would the vargs make of the disappearance of their beloved Gods? No varg could destroy a God, and it was true, Tor and Fenris had not been destroyed, but they were hidden, stolen from their high perches and cast away in a place where no varg could ever sniff them out.

But the Lord and Lady of the Varg had not been idle, they knew they had loyal followers who would rise up and rebel against this treachery - but they also knew that there were vargs who followed Wolfbane, black hearted vargs who would wish them to stay imprisoned forever. They left a trail of breadcrumbs behind, but since they did not know who to trust, they had to hide each clue carefully.

The clues are letters, hidden in a thread in a board in this forum. they will be capitalized, bold and underlined.
Anyone can follow the trail of clues, a task must be completed to gain each clue, and each task has two levels.
Complete one level of the task, you'll recieve one half of the clue (the board where the letter is hidden)
Complete both levels, you'll receive the board and the thread where the letter is hidden.

You must post in here to say that you have completed a task, otherwise the PM of the whereabouts of the clue will not be sent to you.

[Serg]

Fiery amber orbs flickered with an undying malice. This was a genius beyond which he could have ever hoped to have accomplished. A black maw riased itself to the darkened heavens and it opened itself to reveal a prison of sharp pearly teeth. The ebon Dragga laughed with sheer delight. He had always revelled in the darkness, and now he and Carcharoth had polluted the skies themselves. The two vile Gods had been thrown from their lofty perches, and the big-headed fools were now prisoner to his will.

Serg inhaled, swelling his already large and muscular bulk to an even greater size. Surely this was his finest hour? None could dare to oppose him now - and surely, if anyone tried to force the whereabouts of their beloved gods from his wretched maw, well, surely they would realise that if they indeed managed to do the impossible and overpower him, he would die before giving up the whereabouts, and their precious Gods would rot forever in their little prison.

Serg flexed his claws into the earth, rejoicing in the genius of the plan, adrenaline was pulsing through every cord, through every cell in his body. He felt on top of the world right now.

Slowly, he wound his way up to to the top of a hillock, and there the wicked smile on his maw curved into a sneer of utmost distaste and loathing. Vargs, hundreds of them. Skulking from whatever purtrid den had spawned them. They had come to free their pitiful gods. Although, Serg noted a few other vargs down there, with his keen sight unhindered by the darkness that now smothered the lands of Tansylvania, he noted a few vargs of blacker hearts. He smiled wryly. He hoped that they were picking up the trail to get to the gods first, not to free them, but to make sure that they remained forever imprisoned.

Lifting his head to the polluted skies, he called a long howl of victory.

No one would ever find Tor and Fenris, here began a new rule over the Lands of Transylvania. "Weep all ye little runts," Serg growled "Your precious so-called Gods are banished, and are now as weak as maggots caught under the paw." He snickered, amber eyes broiling with a fire fed only by his hatred and joy for all the chaos he and Carcharoth had brought upon the earth.


TASK ONE - Guess a lyric in the Lyrics Game.
Level 1 - Guess a lyric.
Level 2 - One correct guess.

[† Demon †]

Ah, this should keep me entertained whilst I wait for replies on my threads, heh.

A very good idea I must admit; and it looks like it will definitely be a lot of fun.

Lets just hope everyone plays fair, and all that - 'ay Serg? ;]

Welcome Home Demon. That same voice shook through the sleeping femme. She tossed. She turned. Her body drowned in sweat. Suddenly, the beast awoke. Jolted by some unknown force. A snarl formed on her lips; emerald optics glaring to the horizon, searching, hunting. Trying to seek out the fool who awoke her from her nightmares. However, there was no-one. Nothing. The place looked still, eerie.

No birds sung. No rabbits darted across the landscape. It looked dead. Perhaps she was still dreaming? It wasn't likely. "Brilliant," muttered Demon grumpily, stretching herself out along the ground. Pulling herself atop heavy paws, the femme shook herself down; lapping up some water from beside her. She yawned. Restless sleep was simply no sleep - she was used to it. It still sucked though, as per usual.

Then, without knowing why, the beast's auds perked. Hackles rose. There was tension in the air. Her claws dug into the earth she stood upon, her muscles rippled under her ebony pelt. "What the hell is going on?" She asked herself, hoping that someone or something would answer. However, nobody did. Well, except the wind. It brought scents to her nostrils; the scent of a Balkar. Or two.

Teeth flashed as lips curled into a dangerous snarl. "So they're the fools who disturbed my slumber..." Demon hadn't liked the Balkar from day one. Everyone knew that. And well, she always liked having reasons to annoy them. This was just another. However, atop the scent of her enemy came another - something strange. Unholy. A confused look placed itself over the angered maw of the varg. Everything was twisting inside-out it seemed.

No vargs. No birds. No rabbits. No life whatsoever. What had happened during her slumber? Auds perked. A howl. Victorious over what? Demon snarled, walking drowsily in the direction of the noise. She knew the caller - Serg. Former Balkar. Searching to regain his status. She snarled with disgust.

There. On the horizon. She saw them. Serg, and another. Carcharoth? Fools. Flickering her tassel irritably, she shook her head. With hackles still rose, she stood atop her hill, watching. She had not noticed the darkness in the land. The terror in the air. Until now.

Glancing around, things began to fall into place. The devils in her mind had taken flight; hyperactive on the adrenalin in the air. She could taste it. Feel in in her bones. Her senses boiled into overtime. Emeralds optics flashed with some masochist pleasure. A chuckle rang out onto the sky. "Oh, my," she purred, body relaxed as she went in the direction of the Balkar and her enemy. "The Balkar have done something right it seems... Shocking."

Though talking to herself, she needed not care. A plan had formed in her mind already. Leaking into each door that lined the corridors of her skull. Seeping into every remote wrinkle it could find. She was going to seek out the Gods; use them as leverage. Get revenge. She smiled darkly; something psychotic in her eyes. Closer she got to the enemy. Closer. Closer. She was almost right behind them. The wind to her advantage. Body pumped full of adrenalin.

Perhaps now she could resurrect Markaz? Bring her darkened soul to the light? Or maybe. Maybe she could just kill everyone as revenge for their hate? Either way, she was on a mission. On a mission of a lifetime.

"So tell me boys, how'd you do it?"


I've slotted my two 'cents' in the Lyrics Game. More than likely right, aha. Throw me those clues ;P

[Shiro]

The clouds tumbled into the sky, their heads an angry purple and a ferocious gray-black. They spread from horizon to horizon, bringing with them a howling wind of storm. The last patches of blue heaven winked for a moment in the tossing sky and than were submerged, taking the light of day with them. The hills were cast into dim shadows; their wild grasses and brush started to sing as they were onslaught by a powerful northern gust.

A creature loping along wave like hills paused for a moment and listened to the dry storm shaking the air above. A white ear swiveled on an eburnean crown as a black nose tasted the gale; all it could smell was the blood clinging to his nostrils and staining his muzzle the pinkest of crimsons.

Sebala, his eyes catching the shadows, searched the landscape guardedly; but he was in solitude. Without another glance back towards desolate slopes he loped forward to another hilltop, his long black stilts drumming noiselessly on the rugged surface.

He was a youth, sparsely a year, yet carved by the wilderness and keened to survival. He had a blunt muzzle and a muscular frame underneath his snowy coat that was mingled with various off white sprinklings. Yet his lean, long limbs that carried him across lands were a hue similar to black ash. And now he put them to use: his rolling gait went speedily forth.

Hours away from him was the mangled remains of a bloodied carcass abandoned in a pebbly, trailing stream. Sebala had wandered after a herd of deer for many days, but it had not been him, a packless wolf, who had made the kill; nature had done it’s work on an aged buck, and its rotting flesh had reeled in the famished wolf by the nose. He had gorged himself and than traveled on, deserting the leavings for the crows.

Sebala’s pale muzzle was dyed by his meal, and still the lusty scent of blood rendered his senses. Each crest of the next hillock could hold a new surprise.

“Maybe man,” his eyes sparkled grimly.

On mountains with the jay he had been whelped, and beneath the forest with the wildflowers he had blinked at the night. Fuzzy gray and fat from a healthy mother he had started; romping amongst his siblings helped to strengthen him. The steep and overgrown drops and plant life had been his playpen, the snow-melt rivers his nectar, the lethal boar his feast. He had leapt upon granite boulders many times the size of the grandest bear and hurtled breakneck downwards on a slippery slide of dead pine needles. The spring had been sweet, and the raucous summer nights invigorating. Fall chill had nipped playfully at his thickening fur when he explored alone the secret roads of woods or tested his power against his littermates. As a dryer winter than usual froze the world, he discovered icy brooks and the fierce pleasure of barreling through the snow. But as he weathered the seasons, men lived at the door of his pack territory.

As a lanky, awkward cub he had seen the village with its strange animals, and often times he would spy from the safety of the cluttered trees at the men and mutts who stood vigilance among their sheep. He marveled at them, and at the same time a truth began to dawn on him: the forest was dwindling. For nearly a year he eyed the taming of the land, until he dispersed from his pack and left their peaks; he could not stand the defiling of his home.

So Sebala journeyed as a nomad, true to his nature, and along the paths he took he saw man everywhere in their villages, slowly beating back the wilderness. His footfalls became more purposeful as he padded through dales and between canyons. Sebala’s enemy was not death, it was man.

A prickling sensation ran up his back and Sebala went more slowly; his thick tassel was bristling. Eyes alight with a shadow he slunk through a rocky crevice, his ears having caught the sounds of wolves, and of a voice: “Weep all ye little runts. Your precious so-called Gods are banished, and are now as weak as maggots caught under the paw."

A black wolf had been the one to speak. Sebala looked to the storming sky and wondered; Tor and Fenris were gods but they were not the only things that lived in the wild places of earth.

//Meh. And I guessed in the lyrics game, by-the-by.//

[Serg]

Serg was revelling in it, the wind was in his face and ruffling his ebon fur, the air currents stressing and coming in gusts and bursts. Serg took a deep breath of the turbulant air, a maniac grin contorting his maw - the smile disappeared momentarily at the sound of a voice, and the Dragga twisted his muscular bulk about, fiery amber orbs landing on the form of a black she-wolf. A sly grin smile across his charcoaled mouth, eyes flickered with an almost mischievious light.

"Why hello there Demon. Enjoying your evening?" He asked, grinning wider now. It would be one long evening, for the rest of eternity if Serg had his way. So long as no one found the Gods and freed them, although Serg was sure that that wouldn't happen, though he was almost certain that some fool would try.

Serg tilted his head to the side, his bushy black tail swaying behind him as if in thought. "We did it, and that's all that matters, and nothing to concern yourself with." He replied. Serg was in one of his lighter moods, and why shouldn't he be? He felt on top of the world right now. He was almost in the mood to indulge Demon's curiousity, but his common sense cautioned against it - best that no one sides himself and Carcharoth knew how.


Updated, and clues to the hidden letters sent out to those who have joined so far.
(If you still haven't joined you still can)

[† Demon †]

Demon grinned; much like that of a chesire cat. She liked what Serg had done with the place. It had style. It had class. And most of all, it had darkness. Watching the now overly-egotistical wolf before her, Demon paced closer to him - about two to three steps lay between him. She felt their breaths mingle; the wind whipping through her ebon coat, as though a distraction from this amusing moment. Eyes flashed. Lips curled into a wide smile - matching that of Serg's almost to perfection.

"Actually," she replied, her tone light - amused. "--I am." She continued to smile; continued to watch him. His eyes was hypnotising. They danced like liquid fire; amber in colour. Momentarily, they reminded her of Markaz. But the thought soon passed. Demon was in no mood to reflect on happy memories. There was a mission to be fulfilled - a quest to be done. And she would lock those filthy Gods in their prison for eternity; hell, even if there was no solid price involved for their eternal capture, Demon would do it just for the satisfaction - the glory. Much like Serg had done not so long ago.

Speaking of Serg, Demon's attention hastily turned back to the Dragga. He looked handsome in the darkness of the world; bathing in the evil. It was enthralling. An adrenalin rush. Hell on Earth was beautiful. Perfect. Breath-taking. She couldn't deny it. Demon was proud. "Well," she purred, admiring the Balkar's work whilst speaking. "--You did good." She paused, a small relaxed smile appearing on her maw. "--The world is peaceful like this. Calmer... Nicer," She grinned; a manic flash of her orbs revealed the sick nature that her mind focused on. "But," she paused. "Who are guarding the beasties? ... Who is going to stop those pesky goodie-goods from ruining the plan, eh?" Another smile. Another look into those amber optics. Beautiful. She sighed with some kind of relief inside her. "...You?"