If they only knew...[joining]

[Bane]

+I'm just a naughty little boy playing a sinner's turn of games.
+Mock the time with hangman’s hands and vizards upon thy façade.

The long days of winter seemed to become even longer in this land unknown to the mann, for the only sky to be seen in the dead forest was covered by gray clouds. Short gusts of wind blew on ivory mann’s back, like a beast at a gentle rest. With the vibes he was getting, he wouldn’t be surprised if a beast did lie in these lands, unable to awake even by his short call a little while ago before stepping into these lands. Forbidding, they were, just like his childhood stories. The lands that could makes mann shiver, the lands that most wouldn’t dare to step foot in, let along inhabit. These were the lands of the feared and infamous Balkar. The piebald mann ginned to himself, he made it.

The ivory mann’s dubbing was Bane, and as one could tell he wasn’t fully ivory at all. His marking were odd, and some describe them as dog-like. However, Bane was a full Varg, both bred and raised.
He was mostly white, yes, but what would catch one’s eye at first glance was the patch on the right side of his face, engulfing the “ring” around his eye and his right ear. The only white on the right side of his face besides under his cheek was an ivory arrow-shaped eyebrow. He also had an ebony sock on his left paw, extending from the top of his digits to the top of his ankle. And his eyes were an icy, almost clear-like blue, ironic for his personality.

Bane’s nares flared with ever breath, taking in the scents of the land. He could clearly smell the Balkar, along with a must of blood in the air. The male grinned to himself, he couldn’t believe after all this time, he was here. It was his dream, ever since his mother was murdered by his hand to join these rankings, and fit in with the Balkar way of life. After all, he wasn’t really fit for any other pack, they often looked down on vargs like him. Oh, the fun bane had in these past moons, the sins he had made, the games he had played. If they only knew them all…

But now was a time to settle in, get real serious. Well, Bane would admit, he would never let the good times die, he’d always have his fun. But upon meeting Carnage, he’d figure he’d finally take the big commitment, next to marriage that is. Even though he was already kind of considered a part of a pack, a pack that Bane knew was an enemy of Balkar’s. It was the pack his brother was in, the brother he hated so much. The pack that trusts him.

With this pack’s trust, Bane hoped that he could be finally titled as a Balkar, one of the most feared of all males. He could be looked up to, and best of all, there would be no faes to weigh him down, no faes to currupt this pack. That was the way it should be.

With that final though Bane’s movement ceased, his auds straight with interest. He could have hear the crunch of the snow- or was it his imagination? Either way, he knew the Balkar couldn’t be too far out.

//Sorry, the ending kinda sucked. //

[Carcharoth]

He had been aware from the moment he crossed the borders that another was near…and yet the fool didn’t think twice to simply turn around. Carcharoth, the heaving lump of muscle and teeth that the Second was, had been stalking the tracks of Bane for what seemed like hours now. And yet, the younger male had no idea. The monstrosity was so large he could have been mistaken for a bear, he was built like a true Lacan, no Nihtgenge that could slink in the shadows and simply become one. It was any wonder how he had managed to remain inconspicuous for such a lengthy amount of time.

Then suddenly the male stopped, causing Carcharoth to stumble slightly. The sound of his enormous weight compressing the snow beneath his paws was clearly audible, and now the beast knew that the oddly pelted male had heard him – there was no mistaking it. A broad, sinister grin spread across his silvery flecked muzzle as the brute emerged from the shadows behind Bane. A deep, unearthly growl emitted from his colossal chest and reverberated off the surrounding trees, causing them to seemingly tremble for a moment. A single aud stood erect like an abandoned soldier on the battlefield, whilst the other was simply gone. A mere tuft of ebony fur stood up to replace his fallen comrade. From this tuft there ran a long greyish scar, festered skin that had failed to re-grow fur. Cutting straight through Carcharoth’s left eye, it left the orb pearly white and an almost exact replica of the Moon Goddess Tor. It was blind and completely useless, seeming to roll around in its socket. The other eye however, was fully in use and bore the shade of poison. A deep, sickening green shone like an emerald jewel from his ebony skull as the beast stepped towards Bane, his ivory razors breaking up the blackness of his aging muzzle. “And what do we have here?” he growled darkly in question, sneering down now at the smaller varg as he came to a halt only a few feet away.

((Awful I know, but oh well. A Second must do his job!))

[Bane]

A deep rumble of the ground made the piebald mann’s hackles stand slightly on their own accord, as his icy orbs gazed at the shadow behind him. What stood only tails from him was indeed something to be nervous about in the eyes of another. He had been a great beast, Bane was sure of it. His left blank eye almost made Bane sick as it wondered pointlessly in it’s socket. Bane, had seen his share of horrors of Vargs being ripped apart, and ones who stood scarred and beaten. However, it was natural only to be intimidated by this beast.

As the aging beast stepped even closer to the mann, Bane lowered his head level with his chest, his auds still fully erect and forward. On closer observation, however, Bane could see that his left aud, once thought to be pinned against his cranium, was missing completely. His daggers glistened with saliva, and to perhaps cast fear into it's observer. Bane didn't dare raise his lips, for if he did, it could be suicide. Who knew how many Balkarians were notified of his presence, and lurked unseen in the surrounding forest.

“I’m not a what, but a who,” Bane replied quite simply to the mann’s deep vocals, his quite high in comparison. He knew that this was no place to start smarting off, but it was only natural for Bane to defend his identity. He had worked hard to get where he was today, and would be damned if he were to be referred to a “thing”, than anything else. “My dubbing is Bane,” he growled, giving a curt nod to the male, showing submission. Whether he was the First or the Second, maybe even one of the subordinates, Bane couldn’t guess. He had only met one Balkar, the orange and ebony varg, Carnage.

“I find interest within this feared pack,” Bane said simply. He wondered to himself exactly how many times this mann had heard that, and how many actually had become part of the pack. “As I’m sure, you’ll find interest within my knowledge, and use of my presence,” Bane added with a smirk. Bane recalls the glee within Carnage’s lantern eyes when Bane told him about his little “secret”. Bane only hoped the First would too.

[Carnage]

// My turn now > //

The perfect blanket of snow added no beauty to the dark lands. If anything, it only magnified the looming presence of death. Wolfbane's Winter still maintained its icy grip on the lands of Transylvania, offering little to no hope for the inhabiting Lera. Any creature who knew what was good for it was locked away in their dens, safe from the excruciating cold above in the outside world. There were some exceptions to the rule however. Putnar that were well adapted to the cold, with thick pelts and even thicker hides. Varg who possessed dispositions that were weapons in themselves. Masters of tooth and claw who could rival the very deathtrap that was upon them this season.

Weaving between the dead and gnarled trees was a beast so large he could easily be mistaken for a bear. A Varg of massive proportions was now crunching through the snow, making no effort whatsoever to be stealthy and remain hidden. Being so large, it would have been near impossible to keep quiet while plowing through the snow anyhow, for he was no lightfoot. An unusual combination of the darkest ebony and a bright flame made up his thick pelt. While the bright orange made it so he wasn't completely invisible in the darkness, he still fit right in with the shadows, and was able to startle even the keenest of Varg, if not due to his sheer size and strength.

Pointed auds perked forward at a rare sound. Someone had stopped at the border to offer Tratto's Blessing; a courtesy never executed by the pack members. It was more like a joke. Who had the courage or the stupidity to announce their presence to such a band of beasts? With a sickening grin, the Mann followed the sound with hunched shoulders and a lowered head, looking much like a grizzly bear or a large cat stalking its prey. Large, orange paws crunched carelessly through the snow, for no doubt this stranger was counting on an encounter with a Night Hunter, otherwise they wouldn't have announced themselves.

When he found the Varg, which hadn't been hard to do, he was surprised to see that he knew him. It was none other that the piebald Mann he had met one especially stormy day not but a week ago. What was his name? Bane, yes. That was it. He had assured Carnage that he had information for The First that would be worthwhile to hear, and that he would prove to be a useful addition to The Balkar should he be accepted. He hated females, as many of the pack members did, and had an attitude that would surely gain him a place amongst the Night Hunters. But it seemed as though Carnage hadn't been the first one to stumble upon the hopeful Bane, for not a few yards away stood the hulking mass that was Carcharoth, glaring down intently with his none good eye at the smaller and lighter Mann.

Taking slow deliberate steps, he entered the clearing behind Bane, his large paws leaving imprints in the crushed snow behind him. Glowing eyes met those of The Second as he threw Carch a glance followed by a wink and slight bow of his head. He was his superior after all, and a veteran to the pack such as he was worthy of even the Halloween Varg's respect. "Well, well, imagine that! You managed to make your way here without my help after all." Grin still playing on his maw, he circled around Bane until he was standing next to Carcharoth, more in line with the piebald's vision. Silent for the time being, he waited to see what The Second had to say.

[Carcharoth]

The smaller male’s reaction to turning round and seeing the monstrosity that was Carcharoth only played as pure amusement on the ebony beast’s mind. His grin grew broader and a deep, dark chuckle emitted from his chest – shaking the loose skin that hung from his belly. Watching as the piebald varg – known as Bane apparently – lowered his head and tail in respect, the Second was happy enough that the little mann wasn’t feisty enough to mistake his place within these borders, that bode well for him at least. And yet his words still had that cocky-know-it-all edge that the brute was not so keen on.
Quirking an eyebrow to Bane’s interest in the pack and that he apparently held some very juicy knowledge that would benefit the pack; Carcharoth suddenly became intrigued. “And what kind of knowledge would a little ru-“ he was cut short by the sudden – and not so quiet – appearance of the pack’s Lead Lacan; Carnage. Peering up at the enormous fiery beast who was roughly his own size, the Second grinned darkly and winked back.
Apparently the two had already been acquainted. “Well I guess there is no need for introduction then. Unless Carnage would like to fill me in on any details?” he growled, peering back to Bane and raising his brow once more in question.

(It's awful and late I'm sorry. Nearo will have a post up later maybe. Looking after me granny today so not a lot of activity on my behalf!)

[Nearo]

Fear awaken
Go with it now
And let it overcome you
Fear awaken
Your mind is racing


The joker was back.

Silence he was, stealth he became and laughter he would create. The clown, the joker…the hated. Nearo had been sly and secretive for moons now, and yet he had never left the lands of the Balkar. It was his job to be hidden, his job to only come out when his presence was needed. The Lead Nihtgenge was built for his cunning and craftiness; he wasn’t just about to let his cover be blown for the smallest of reasons. And it just so happened that now was his time to rise. To sprout from the dead Balkan earth and assist in the duty of battle. His aid would surely be needed – for The Balkar and Sarnes were to unite into one and raid the territory of Ge-Rad once more – to wreak havoc and spill the blood of the unknown innocent. Innocent or guilty…the wicked little sod couldn’t care less. His tongue was parched and he longed for nothing more than the taste of blood; varg blood.

Skulking through the entwined and entangled undergrowth of the Balkan terrain, Nearo’s large ears stood erect as his body stopped instantly. A howl? Oh the joys! Someone to play with at last, his boredom was growing seriously out of control. He may just turn from a happy clown to a morbid one.
Picking up his silent pace, the duo-pelted male was swift to come upon the small clearing in which the piebald male halted. Stopping instantly and keeping his presence unknown, the wicked little beast’s vivid green/yellow eyes widened and his pink tongue licked his jaws, expression that of true madness. Settling himself down, Nearo watched as the monstrosity that was Carcharoth emerged form the brush and presented himself to the younger intruder.

The skilled Nigtgenge had heard the Second miles off before he had produced himself to unwilling eyes – he was no sneak, he was a muscular brute. Nearo knew all too well to keep his distance from the ill-tempered Lacan - he was smarter than he seemed and was portrayed as. The jester knew all…more than most were willing to believe. That’s what happens when you become invisible.
It wasn’t long before the Lead Lacan made his appearance, the two giants greeting each other with grins and winks before continuing to question the stranger who was seeking a place amongst their ranks. Now was the time to emerge, to show himself once more to his ‘friends’. Slinking out from the brush, Nearo came from behind Carnage and rounded off to the trio’s right, keeping his distance from the brutes and eying up Bane with wild eyes, lunacy playing on his snickering grin. “Coming to play now are we? Oh what fun!”

[Bane]

Just as he had predicted, the grizzled black mann’s features lit up, on Bane’s last note. Of course, leverage was often sweet, and at times, could certainly come in handy. As the monster’s agape jaw had begun to issue words, his sentence was cut short but the slow crushing of snow, an entrance from none other than the Halloween Varg Bane had meet wither earlier on- Carnage. A rather odd, yet handsomely marked varg, with an underbelly of orange, and a coat of black. Bane gave a noticeable grin this time, his icy orbs narrowing with pleasure. The piebald mad dipped his head in respect of the bicolor man, showing that Bane knew exactly who’s territory he was on now. “You really didn’t think I would have got that lost, did you?” Bane answered with a toothless grin, indeed glad to see a familiar face within this new land.

Turning back to the somewhat dumbfounded Carcharoth, wondered if he should answer, or let Carnage do the talking. However, it was apparent that the Second’s last question was directed more towards Carnage than him anyways. Besides, it might sound better, coming from Carnage than himself, Bane thought casually. "We've met," Bane said obviously. Still, he felt like he sould have said something, than nothing at all.

With the ruffle of the brush, yet another varg had decided to show himself, this one looked smaller than the rest, for his body was built in difference. His coat was marked like a “normal” varg’s, with a mixture of colors draping from dark to light upon his pelt. But the most stunning of his features were his greenish yellow eyes, the eyes that look similar to his sisters- they shone with madness. Clearly, not the same madness as his poor delusional sister, but a more, perhaps sane madness? Well, perhaps more reality-bound than Shunké, anyways. There wasn’t really any way to explain it, exactly; the mind could be altered in so many different ways. “Play? What are we, cubs?” Bane growled silently to himself through his teeth.

//erm, sorry, not really that great, nor helpful. ^^;//

[Carnage]

Yes, the fiery behemoth had come to save the day. Not that he was worried for Bane's wellbeing- the piebald Mann could either take care of himself or he could not. Being an aspiring Nihtgenge, if he couldn't manage to weasel his way out of his demise with the lumbering Carcharoth, then perhaps he wasn't suited for The Balkar at all.

Taking a single step towards Bane, he flashed his yellowing grin that seemed to say he knew more than he was letting on. "Gladly..." was his reply to The Second. Carnage didn't mind at all, for there was not much to explain. As he opened his maw, however, he was cut short by a piercing and irritating voice that could only belong to one Varg. Nearo... he growled darkly, remembering his first encounter with the little sneak- an encounter which had oddly enough been his first and last. He wasn't surprised that his blazing orbs had seen nothing of the delinquent, for the slimy wretch was an ace among spies. No doubt Bane would have his paws full dealing with him. His own hatred for the disgusting worm of a Mann burned strong in his orange chest, and he did little to disguise it, though he knew the more he provoked the Nihtgenge, the more his own remarks would be thrown back in his face with ten times the force, for although he didn't look like much at all, the fool of a Varg was much more well versed than he would ever let anyone know. "So good of you to join us... Your mangey hide has had enough of slinking about the shadows where the monsters can't see you? Just as well... It seems a potential 'trainee' of yours wishes to be accepted here." Yes, Nearo would be Bane's problem to deal with now, or rather, Bane would be Nearo's. The two-toned Mann held the position of Lead Nihtgenge, and Bane would therefore fall under his command. What a shame...

Turning back to Bane, his eyes were alight once more, having pushed the slinking Nearo out of his thoughts for the time being. A somewhat awkward position to be in, almost vouching for the piebald and giving reasons as to why he should be accepted, why he stood before them all now. Though, Carcharoth had directed the question to him, and so, he would answer without hesitation. "Yes, we both had the recent misfortune of getting caught in a blizzard. Just so happens we stumbled upon the same cave, which was when I learned of his interest in The Balkar... I would have killed him on sight if it wasn't for this interest, and in my judgement, with the 'bond' he carries with a certain GeRad, he could be very useful to us indeed..." There had been a fire in Bane's eyes that night too, and he saw it burning now. It revealed a certain potential, not unlike his own had been upon venturing to these dark lands. They had more than a few things in common, and it seemed that Bane and Nearo would share a similar if not identical relationship to the one Carnage now held with the Lead Nihtgenge. Flashing his orbs back to Carcharoth, he waited to see what he would think of the ordeal.

[Carcharoth]

The ebony brute was looking forward to what this little runt might have to offer the Balkar in concession to his joining their ranks. But before Carnage could explain, an almost forgotten shadow emerged from the brush and granted them all with his irritating presence. Flashing Nearo a threatening look, Carcharoth growled deeply and flashed his glistening jaws at the fool of a varg. Peering up at Carnage, he noticed too just how much this varg had spread his ‘love’ so to speak.
However, the insolent Lead Nihtgenge wisely kept his distance from the two Lacans and instead took his teasing out on the stranger – to Carnage and Carch’s greater relief. Listening to Carnae’s mocking words to the skulking form that was Nearo, Carcharoth chuckled coldly and shook his head to the brute. “Don’t waste your breathe Carnage, you now he’ll only make your temper rise worse,” he warned the Lead Lacan, knowing all too well since the day Carcharoth met Nearo entering the Balkan lands that to insult this varg, you’d never hear the end of it.

Attention was swiftly turned away from Nearo as Carnage shrugged himself off and proceeded to explain the juice that Bane held for the pack. And indeed it was something small that could be made into something big. Raising his brows and peering down at Bane once more, he grinned maliciously before craning his neck down towards the piebald mann, emerald hue flashing venomously. “Well for the near future, you could prove to be very useful indeed,” Carcharoth growled darkly. The ambush against Ge-Rad that was soon to take place might prove successful – depending on what this beast could tell them.
Looking up now to Carnage, ignoring Nearo completely now, the Second quirked a brow and growled deeply. “What do you think Carnage?”

[Bane]

//Uhg, i know, but I coudn't think of anything else. I have to go now, but I'll probably think of a few more details. Sorry for the delay!//

Judging by the look on Carnage’s features and the tome of his vocals, Bane could tell this Nearo was, well, the sikla. Or at least, something equivalent to it- he seemed to be hated. Casting a quick glance at the ebon beast, his features too told of hate for this he-varg. Bane made a mental note to stay away from this mann, no telling how insane he actually was, or even why he was disliked so much. True, Bane was curious, but not curious enough to but in. After all, he needed his total focus now, if he was to get accepted. Without the Balkar, his dream, his purpose- he didn’t know what he would do. Pathetic, yes, but the mann didn't want to resort to getting back together with his brother. He would stay a kerl forever, perhaps. But was that really just as fun? Maybe not, but being turned down was.

The piebald mann nodded as Carnage replied, feeling proud of his achievement. “They trust me,” Bane added at the end. “I could tell you anything you want to know about them- I could find out anything you want, and they wouldn’t suspect a thing.” he said in the most confident voice, his features curling upward. “And I’d be more than happy to share my “gift” for your benefits.” He added hopefully.

[Nearo]

The skulking beast flashed his mad eyes up at Carnage as the brute spoke, a crazed expression overcame his features and he let out a cackling laugh at the fiery beast’s words. Oh he just couldn’t hold his tongue back could he? Yet however, the comment on possible trainee sprouted sudden interest in the foolish Balkar’s mind. Ignoring the response made by Carcharoth, Nearo simply homed in on the piebald male, wicked orbs flashing in the dim light, as his grin grew wider.
The newcomer’s ‘witty’ response to Nearo’s previous comment played on his mind and he chuckled momentarily on his approach, aware now of how close he was the two Lacans who stood on either side of Bane. He was a little too close for comfort, yet the lumbering fools were still not as swift as he, and if need be he had plenty of space to dodge any inconsiderate attacks.

“Who said anything about cubs? We Balkar here have our own form of games and tomfoolery. And at last I have someone to toy with it appears,” he chuckled frantically, gazing with wide eyes into those of Bane’s, cocking his head back and forth in an insane manner.
Yet the news this Ge-Rad snitch informed the trio with perked his curiosity even further. If this varg was to be trained as a Nihtgenge, then his skills of sneaking between the lands and retrieving such information needed to be heightened. Nearo would have no trouble in teaching him these skills; that was of course if the beast was cooperative.