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Lore
Sept 14, 2014 22:04:54 GMT -6
Post by Lord Derikai on Sept 14, 2014 22:04:54 GMT -6
This thread is more for all short stories meant to build this world and fill it full of characters and personality. THIS IS NOT A ROLEPLAYING THREAD, AND I WILL REMOVE ALL ROLEPLAYING POSTS FROM THIS PAGE BECAUSE THIS THREAD IS MEANT FOR WORLD BUILDING ONLY. Also, all forum rules apply here, as well as the rest of the site.
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Lore
Nov 23, 2014 12:24:27 GMT -6
Post by smilingcrocodile on Nov 23, 2014 12:24:27 GMT -6
"Who is the King Under the Mountain? The King in The North? He who shall Awaken? The North cries for a Hero! Who hears the call?" *A room full of animals all look around. One stands up and looks out the bar's shuttered window, the goat then turns and looks back at the elvin bard*
"Can't say, can't see that far north." *Room bursts out laughing as the tropical air floats in, and a pirate cap floats in and lands on a water buffalo's head* ____________________
"Blood. It awakens us. Its sharp and coppery scent brings us to our senses. It brings us back. Back to the days when the Hume, they laid out the bull in the winter, to keep the wolves at bay, to bring the sun back out to them. Back to when the first spring lamb was butchered and given to the spirits of the field and wood. It brings us back."
"It brings us back, because we are the predators. The ones the Hume kept at bay, hiding by the fire and out of the dark. We were the fear that made them tremble. The pointed teeth and the rending claws and the black wings of carrion descent. The sharp scent, of the fullest, the newest, the greatest of prey they had to offer."
"It's a life all it's own, to rend the lamb on the alter. Eat the succulent meat and drink the marrow from the bones. It's the love of the hunger that drives us to hunt. The weak, the old, the young. All that, because of the blood on the alter, sent to keep us at bay, from robbing the Humes of their cradles late in the cold winter. Or in the starving summers of endless heat. To them, we are the night."
"And now we walk, and talk as the Hume, and the sacrifice still sends. It awakens the old power within. They are wise to fear. For a little lamb to bring good spring and summer, to the ripe pig on the falls harvest table. It brings us. And with us, comes the fear."
"Continue to Sacrifice Hume. It does indeed keep the dark at bay." - C'orto Whitewing. ______________
"I am really tired of Hume pirates always telling me, 'You'll make a fine pair of boots, lizard!' Then when I tell them they'll make a nice lampshade, they call me a freak. Drown, the lot of them." - Grodil on Hume relationships. ______________
Grass' Journal: 14th Day of High Sun. Today I met new employers, in a Verime tavern called Very Hungry Wolf. It is a nice inn, lots of red cloaks hanging inside of it. Filled with many woodsmen, lumbermen and hunters in need of a summer river guard. The Lumberwolves are strange, always singing a song about how they're okay and at night dressing in Elderly Hume Nightclothes.
The North is a strange place. The sun shines weaker. But the Hume and other Bandits are a fine main course, and can be held in storage in an underground ice lot a mild walk from the main town. The Feathered Phalanx has flown over many times, and it has me worried. Something is happening. Somewhere. And that could mean big trade for the likes of me.
For now, I stand night guard along the river boats and await for news. I eat well and remember to never wear a red hood.
Hunts Among Reeds
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Lore
Nov 23, 2014 12:25:17 GMT -6
Post by smilingcrocodile on Nov 23, 2014 12:25:17 GMT -6
"Welcome to Bork'ta'ch'ch'ch's Mechanical Emporium. We ch'ch'ch' have the finest craftsbeasts and crafthumes working day and ch'ch'ch' night to give you the finest mechanical wears. For you ch'ch'ch' boat, ship, airship or wagon and carriagch'ch'ch's. Finest establch'ch'ch' ment this side of the Three Ushaka Sea's ch'ch'ch'." The great crab says, ushering you into a great room, filled with brass, copper and steel wiring and tubing, as a humid tropical draft comes in from barely covered holes. All the metal is well oiled, and a Grodil stands near a dark corner, examining machine charts in a book. He gives a grunt in hello and curls his tall closer him in a known defensive stance.
Grodil rarely trust, of course, as a dwarf, you really don't feel the need for leather boots. Though you're honestly having thoughts of seeing how well the owner of the store goes with butter. Same goes for his other lobster guards. But you're only here to see how far along the beasts have gotten with technology and the sciences. You're not worried about their magic. Not you're clans calling. And from what you see, you're host which would go well with butter is in a good business, even in this damnable open air place. ____________
The lush, rolling and golden plains. Somedays it baked like a desert, others it was green and filled with a riot of colors. For now, it was the high heat on the dead of noon. The world around it was mostly sleeping. The great lion twitched a tail, watching from a wilting tree. It felt like it was time to hunt. But nothing but the insects stirred. _________
When one has to work beside golems, season in and season out, it leaves much time to ruminate. Living rocks aren't always prone to talking, and didn't have many of the herd instincts associated with the great herdsbeasts of the plains routes. Bov'rikus and their fellow kin preferred the great herds, and as one, Steelhorn would have been more talkative. The problem was, most golems didn't talk unless really needed.
So, his hooves pounding up a long dust trail beside the golems as they moved ores and trade goods from the mountains to the great rivers to where they would go to be used in other industry. His furry face kept a watch out for Raider Wolves, skinny little dung eaters who would always try to sneak in at night or just watch and wait to attack. With a group this big, and protected by a mercenary band known as the Laughing Sentries, a mixed group of Hyena's, Plains Panthera and great Sentry Eagles, along with several of his more warrior like Bov'rikus brethren to protect the caravan and golems.
He didn't see or smell any wolves, and they passed by a Grodil and Cert'ako, a great twin horned rhino, who were arguing over a map. The young Grodil looked absolutely impatient by his species standard, while the Cert'ako stood by, occasionally flicking a fly with his ear, while a group of butterflies flew around them. Steelhorn continued on, giving out a mellow bellow to the rest of his group as they marched on. One of the Hyena's stopped the group, the lead scout, Shenzi.
"Smell that?" She asked, bone earrings jangling. Some of which he could see where hume bones. They all stopped and the cloud of dust swirled past them. He smelled the air, while the golem next to him looked around.
"Golems do not smell."
"I appreciate that, but that's a known fact. Now, Steelsteaks, what you smell?" He glowered at her use of his name. Not that he'd call her bitchface to her face. Bitch would kill him for it. She'd already left one of the male pack members needing a new ear after he attempted to disobey her.
"I-" He sniffed more. And more. He knew the wet tinge, but he saw no clouds. A Sentry Eagle landed and looked around, nodding at Shenzi. "I smell water. But we're nowhere near the rivers, much less a decent creek."
"Means only one thing doesn't, Iron Bison?"
"Rains coming."
"MOVE OUT!" He and Shenzi bellowed at the same time. "HEAD TO HIGHER GROUND!" They again said together. They both chuckled a little. Thing with Hyena's. Their laughter was kind of infectious, even in straights. They started heading towards high ground. _________
Move. Always have to move. Takka Chirrapa looked around the great forest and glades that hid the city of Unicornia. The Pis'carn Robber Sparrow looked down from a high tree perch, looking for a target. A hume elf maybe. They came to this place in droves to greet the hidden rulers. Great Horns. To him and his father's gang, they were Gore Horns. They owned the pretty little city, and if one of the many gangs got out of line, they simply disappeared.
He had to move again. And he did. He couldn't sit in place for too long. Had to move. He found a target, an elf pilgrim who looked quite rich, had many shiny's on her. He gave the call. Had to beat the Ravenwatch to it. They flocked in, letting him get out ahead. He landed out in front of her, bowing to her. The elf cocked her head at his beaked face, looking over his masked face.
"Little Robber Bird, begone from my sight. Else face me and my wrath."
"I beg of you no harm, sweet hume elf." He couldn't see why they were thought pretty by other hume types. Pale, featherless, walking worms. He gave a sweet whistle.
"I know enough to never trust your kind, bird."
"I can guide you to the Great Horns, I can, I can." He hopped about, and then danced in place, his wings fluttering a little as he looked at her.
"I know the path to the Great Horned Ones. Now, begone and do not test me."
"As you wish, dear lady elf." He nodded his head and chirped, moving in an instant, ripping off her golden and shiny necklace. The rest of his flock descended, all claws and beating wings. She could not even draw her weapon, for madness descended from the forest canopy. It was over in a few hume heartbeats. The rest of the flock flew off, leaving him hopping around her as she stumbled up, clothes ripped and bleeding, bruised and battered by a bunch of wings.
"Welcome to the city, lady elf." He said, hopping around her a couple of times. Then he took off, back into the canopy. "Welcome to the city." He gave what amounted to a laugh as he flew into the sky.
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Lore
Nov 23, 2014 12:25:29 GMT -6
Post by smilingcrocodile on Nov 23, 2014 12:25:29 GMT -6
Now here's a story, about a little dispute, between the Tusked King Konungen Valross and the Ever Grinning Gerea Maxil. The little meeting I was present for, on icy fields in the great North. It was no ordinary meeting, as no meeting between kings ever is.
The meeting place was a great ice field, where ice breakers came through, to let them meet. King Valross and his fleet of ships skating over water and ice as Storm Makers brought them in. And then from the icy depths, the great skin ships of the Uskaka Merchants rose. Us bears where to be the mediators, and we had our own surprise awaiting for them, should it turn to blood. Blood on the ice and water was the least of what we needed here.
I stayed back, as it was my duty, and drew up a table from the ice sheet and chairs before backing off and out of hearing range. First, came King Volruss, mounted upon a great shield, carried by four gruff warriors, wielding great axes. He carried a great axe himself and a keg, as ever, from his shoulder. His great tusks were encased in steel, and his mustaches drooped with finery. He was the epitome of riches and greed, carried by warriors as grand as he.
Once put at the table, he was set to wait. For the Ushaka did not come from their ships. Rather, they exploded from the ice, busting through it with ease. The sleek and giant sharks came, a vanguard of Hammerheads and Sawnoses surrounding the even larger King Kanat. Had this been in the South, he would have surrounded himself with his Salt Grodil too. But it got the message across that he intended.
Volruss was unimpressed and gave a grunt and slapped the table, sending an echoing thud through the ice. His own ice breakers came out, surrounding the great Ushaka merchant military. The Orca nearly towered over the fish kin, and some of the larger ones did. A low hum came from Kanat, and then the ships split, revealing giant squid, armed to to the tentacles. No speaking had begun, but already it was on dangerous grounds. I made my own move, giving a roar.
The ice shuddered, and from a nearby glacier, came our own backup. A great Frost Wrym broke through, icy blue eyes glowing even in the depths as it surged forward like a slow rising tide. It's great white body surrounded the two armies, and it looked quite unhappy I had to call it.
"Settle this dispute without blood children, or there will be new kings on these courts." He rumbled. From that point things proceeded as normal. _____________
A young golem was asked if he knew what irony was. After stopping for several minutes to think about it, it finally turned to the human in question and shrugged. "I think it is what you use to smelt iron ore into iron." _____________
Uskaka aren't known for being afraid. Ushaka aren't known to run away. However, at the sight of the long serpentine body Sh'ghan felt the both. He was in shallow sea's, on the edge of Grodil Mangrove territory. And then he saw the shape, and he felt fear to the back of his mind. He was no longer hunting for fish, spear in hand forgotten. The only thing on his mind was panic.
It was only the type of panic he got when he was alone and he saw a lone Orca in the arctic waters. Or if he saw a group of the dolphin thugs hoping to get a chance at him. He moves fluidly, trying to get to deeper waters where he could hide among the reefs and corrals. Or maybe find a kelp field to vanish in. The nearest was two or three knots away, and willing the water around him into a vortex, he shot off.
The kelp fields were closing in fast, and then his vortex simply cut out, the water stilled around him, and from the field itself came that what sent him in fear. The long scaly face with barbels on it, scales that changed from sea green to light blue as the light touched it, and fearful yellow eyes.
"Where are you running to in such a hurry, fish child?" The great sea serpent asked, coiling it's long body around his area, clawed and webbed hands and feet, along with fins stabilizing it in the water. The giant teeth that could puncture through his skin and skull gleamed a little.
"Out of protected Grodil territory." He thought he said. It mostly came out to him as a lot of strained gurgles.
"How very wise of you. Though, rather, late. I take it you heard some vague rumor or another that I was off in other parts of my kins lands?"
"I can neither confirm, nor deny that."
"Good then." The mouth opened wide and all Sh'gans last thought was how badly this was going to hurt. Soon, nothing was left, and little blood was in the water. The yellow eyes look out beyond the water, focusing on something, and a near crocodilian grin breaks on the scaled face.
"I can neither confirm nor deny I ate him either. Bloody sharks." And with one sweep of the coiled body, the serpent went back to rest with in the mangroves, leaving only a steel harpoon to drop to the bottom of the kelp forest. _________________________________________________________
"Today, the great Pyren nation welcomes the Do'lic as dinner tonight!" A honey badger announces as an already slightly nervous crowd of Zebra nobles look at each other. A Pyren messenger elbows the badger and leans down.
"TO. Dinner. Not, as dinner." The badger rubs his head.
"Why not?"
"We want to keep good relations with them."
"Ah. I think. Anyways. The Great Pyren Nation welcomes the Do'lic representatives for dinner!" He then looks up at the Pyren. "Can I have at least one for dinner?"
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Lore
Nov 23, 2014 12:26:27 GMT -6
Post by smilingcrocodile on Nov 23, 2014 12:26:27 GMT -6
To some, the forge is a blistering, sooty and blackened mass of heat and chunks of metal being beaten into plowshares and weapons and armor. To a Pyren blacksmith, it was a near natural home. Of course, it was better then working in a tannery. Better then stifling though Fecal matter and urine all the day just to make leather for armor and clothing.
But here, here he forged away, creating a new set of armor for the Pride of Prowlix. It was a great honor to create armor for a king, and Ch'akkio the Smith knew it was. He put all his effort into it, hammering and nailing away to create it. He'd been at it for months now, and it would be completed within another. He brought the heat back up in the forge and put the breast plate in, and then brought it back out, and began hammering anew. __________________________________________________
The armored form walked heavily down the darkened hall, witch light giving off an eerie green tint on the shining armor. Two wolf guards donned a helmet with enormous antlers as he entered the area where the barred gate. A cold spring chill whistled through it as he looked upon them and shook his head, the metal rattling.
"May the Ancestors continue to bless you." One of them growled at him.
"My ancestors have. It's up to the others Ancestors to do for them." He snorted, a cold plume coming from the vents in his helmet. He could hear the muted roar of the crowd. The gates opened as the returning Champion in the North entered the Arena. He looked around, as his young apprentice handing him his great pole axe, Bear Cutter. He hefted it with one hand with ease and his little apprentice ran off. The yearling was yet to be blooded on arena or battlefield.
He turned back to where he had came from, and in front of the largest set of antlers on a skull, he bowed to it. "May my victories continue honor you, honored Antler Lord, King of the Ghost Woods." He said, hearing the rattles as he came back up, he bellowed.
He then gave a courteous bow to Valross, the fat King of Verime. He'd much prefer it if his kind ruled, but the Tusked Ones were simply more powerful. "Who do I face, my King?" Valross gave a roaring laugh, as his two hulking elephant seal guards gave grins beneath the steel pot helms.
"YOU! MY ANTLERED CHAMPION SHALL FIGHT A GREAT NEW CHALLENGER!" Valross shouted, before grabbing one of his kegs and drinking. He slammed his fist onto his wooden throne.
"WHO?" He bellowed back, going through the rites with the king.
"VEH'KON WOLFEATER!" He bellowed back. "DO YOU TAKE THE CHALLENGE ANTLER CHAMPION!"
"ACCEPTED!" He said, while to himself, "Well, Ancestors, a bear." He said. Wolves howled, bears roared, hooves stomped and somewhere an owl in the background yelled at everyone to shut up. The gate beneath the Valross opened and out charged a mass of fur and metal. When Veh'kon stood, he made the already very large Deroko Antler Champion feel small. At least it was another predator. They tended to get overconfident when facing the likes of him.
"BEGIN!" Valross bellowed, and Deroko circled the arena warily as Veh'kon did the same, sizing him up.
"Blood is mine, deer kin." He growled, revealing his long set of claws and a sword, his own breath pluming in the cold spring day.
"Don't be hasty. This isn’t called Bear Cutter for naught." The big brown bear shook his body, and charged, using his earthen powers to help his speed. Deroko simply side stepped it, bringing his pole axe around to wallop the bears backside and deflect the sword. The absolute casualness of which he did it sent up a howl of laughter from the wolves. Veh'kon came back around, and tried to swing with his all his might.
Deroko again deflected it and stepped back, playing with the bear. He has both the reach and years upon years of experience. He casually used his own earthen powers to draw up small stones from the arena, and began to use them to pelt the again charging bear, distracting him and forcing him to bring his own powers to bear to deflect them and stopping his earth enforced charge.
"You must not be hungry enough Veh'kon."
"YOU ARE FOOD DEER KIN!"
"Funnily enough, you aren't in much of position, raccoon lover." He snorted, again casually turning away and deflecting Veh'kon's powerful punches and sword blows. Then he finally slugged back, armoring his fist in thousands of tiny rocks. It sent Veh'kon flying back. Veh'kon surged back, throwing rocks and earth at Deroko flipped them aside and walked forward, bringing his pole axe to bear.
"Good night, and be glad this isn't a battlefield pup." He said, slamming the broadside of the large axe into the bears armored helm with the force of the earth behind it. Veh'kon dropped like one of his own rocks. Using his cloven foot, he rolled him over and took off the antlered helm to the cheering crowd. He didn't have his normal antlers, as fall mating was not yet on, but the moose was recognizable.
"Send me a better challenge my king." He said, before bowing to him, and then acknowledging the great antlered skull with a token from Veh'kon. His weaponized claws and sword. Then he walked back into the arena depths. ____________________________________________________
Once, we worshiped the might of the kingdoms beasts. The power of the aurochs, the skill of the hunters, the fleet of the antelope, the trickiness of the raven and the weaves of the spider. We feared the night until we found fire, and even then, the laughter and the howls of the great night beasts.
Now, we are troubled by aurochs that stand and trouble us if we eat their near dumb kin. The unawakened cattle that feed us and our overlords, the lions of fire, the great shark and tusked sea and frozen folk, the deer kin in the forest and the antelopes on the plains. Even the birds mock us with their powers over the wind and storm. And I hear rumor from halls of learning and the ancestral shrines to what great beasts once were. There is power there, and only the animals can have it.
Here we sit, shadowed by the great Titans, are protectors against the rise of the Natural Order, awaiting a day we can be as powerful as they are. To reign using their powers and names and put the world back into it's natural place. We should not bow and chafe to the animal kind, we should be ruling ascendent over them. One day, we shall grow beyond our current rulers, and the Men of Titan shall take them all.
On the Titans Bodies, I swear, Man shall rule again. _____________________________________________
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Lore
Nov 23, 2014 12:27:04 GMT -6
Post by smilingcrocodile on Nov 23, 2014 12:27:04 GMT -6
Some quests end well. Some quests end badly. Some quests stop right in the middle and make you piss your armor in utter fear. This quest had turned into the latter. The Necrotis Desert of Twilight is already a decently fearful place for anyone with half a mind. Rather unfortunately, the Desert of Twilight was where this particular quest led at the moment.
The Ele'pharus where after an old skull, one stolen from the jungle temples. Plated in gold and iron, it was a great monster of a skull that something big had to carry out. And rumor had brought the group this far. A Pyren, a young and rather lost Grodil, not too far out of hatchling stage and a great Cer'tako who had taken him in as a kindness and himself, a Paladin of the Mountain Titan, a warrior of great renown. Now staring in fear as a great chitinous scaled dragon rose from the black sands.
A great tail, part sword, part scorpion stinger rounded on the group. It's great maw hung before him, and baleful acid green eyes staring at him. All eight of them. The Cer'tako's mouth hung open, watching the great armored carapace, the little Grodil was going between staring opened mouth and watching a little butterfly on it's nose and the Pyren was, though shaking in his armor, already on the defensive. The Titan Paladin, simply pissed himself and shook.
"What are you doing crossing my lands?" The great dragon growled. _______________________________________________________
Dragons aren't supposed to die. Perhaps a better wording would be ruthlessly butchered. Dragons are not supposed to be ruthlessly butchered. Iniara Fleetfeather, only shook her head. This was not how the world worked. What was left of the slaughtered dragon in question was a piece of hide with a shadow claw from one of the Necross clans and a Pyren flame burnt into it.
"Too many mixed smells, most of them stale too. Kills several days old too." Rufus Bonecruncher, her awakened wolfhound partner said.
"The Pyren and Necross marks might be to mislead us." She said, trying to find tracks, and hoping some of her frost elf kin would come to her aid. Mostly because not only was this the lair of one of the Frost Wryms, this was the lair of a Guardian, no mean feat even though it was not an Elder Wyrm.
"I'd like to agree with you Iniara. But, I can't. I smell everything from wolves to lions, even an Aurochs or two. Even humans. This was a multi group effort. And there is at least one lion. Maybe a hyena or three, hard to see them cooperate though." He shook his fuzzy head and listened and looked for other clues in the dragons lair. They had to have someone or somebeast with powers over ice. Someone the dragon trusted.
"This. This is just horrible. This isn't supposed to go this way. Dragons don't die like this. Maybe in fights against other dragons, but that's civil." Rufus gave a gruff growl. "Semi-civil."
"Whatever this is, they left a calling card." He said, picking up a Pyren lions bone necklace, rather broken.
"Lets hunt the hunters then." Irian only wished her other kin could be bothered to help her.
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Lore
Nov 23, 2014 12:27:47 GMT -6
Post by smilingcrocodile on Nov 23, 2014 12:27:47 GMT -6
Spying is almost a naturally occurring product of being a bat or bird, and sitting in the rafters with a Fork Tail swallow, watching the group activity in the halls of The Guardians of Dawns Light. Though spying in a room meant to let in all the light left the bat Strawberry Eyes blinking most of the time, keeping an eye on High Paladin on his golden sun throne.
He was a massive white hyena with sun spots on his fur, and the heat of the fire wafting off of him. He wore little in the way of armor at the moment, but kept on spartan clothing of white and wore a circlet of golden fire over his head. He had two pure white Aurochs guards, horns encased in gold and armored in practical war gear with gilding of gold, and carrying massive spears with a white flag on them and a golden half sun rising with rays out of it.
At the forefront of the great hall, stood an enormous rhino, wearing a white surcoat with the rising sun on it, his horns encased in steel and wearing a helmet fit for his kind with a massive white plume out of it. Strawberry Eyes knew this one had scars beneath his shiny but very practical armor. He'd gone head to head with dragons at one point and time. And he worked as the body guard to Talkasha the White. One of his oddities, he had a small group of butterflies attached to him, flying around him or just sitting on him at all times. A sudden hiss turned all of their attention to a dark corner at the bottom of the floor.
Watching carefully, Strawberry Eyes shuddered as the residents of Necross started walking out of a single small shadowy corner. First came the skeletons, inky and black, and solidifying as the claws tapped on the white marble floor. Then wisps of shadow became muscle and skin, and then finally clothing. The great rhino and the aurochs pointed their spears at the shadows as they stepped out. Seven great hyena's from the shadow lands, though one was Pyren, due to the larger size, the red fur and orange spots, and the magma looking eyes, and disorientation after shadow walking.
Talkshaka stood, waving an arm and grabbing his own giant sword from beside the throne. His ears flattened against his skull when he looked down at what Strawberry Eyes assumed was the squad leader. He gave a growl, while the leader raised her nocked and earring filled ears. She looked short and wiry next to the giant of flames.
"Is that anyway to greet a sister and better Talka?"
"You're not allowed to use my formal Shenzi!" She rolled her great black eyes and her back mane came up a little as shadows formed in one fist despite the light in the room, and she stepped forward and back handed him. He stumbled a little and came back, mouth lit up like the sun to bite, only to catch the arm of the other Pyren male, who merely flinched as the burning bite crunched on him. He shook it off, and Talkshaka gave a low growl. Shenzi gave a deeper and more powerful one.
"I came to see what exactly you and your enlightened brethren are getting yourselves into. This is not how you treat kin, lest you want us to eat you for dinner." Shenzi said, stepping around and tipping one of the spears up of one of the aurochs and glaring at him, he took a step back. She also gave a challenging stare to the rhino, but with the butterflies calmly sitting on him, one on his horn tip, she lost it by giggling a little.
"And what, exactly do you think we are doing?" Talkshaka growled at her.
"We're not sure, but strings of killings pointing at mothers clan and the pyren clans, lion and us, are making other peoples antsy around us. More so then usual."
"And why would that bring you here? We are Paladins! We are the Good! We are The Light!" Shenzi merely nodded along.
"And if something stands in the lights way?" She asked, flicking an ear, which brought her group up near her as she walked the room, always keeping her back at Talkshaka without a single care.
"We find a way." He growled.
"I'm sure you do. Mother has her suspicions. We only came to confirm them." Shenzi said. "May your struggle find a way." She said, and walked back to the darkened corner, and the group faded out. Talkshaka looked to the rhino and nodded. The rhino set off, simply taking his time. Strawberry Eyes and his Forktail swallow partner looked at each other and slowly and stealthily crept out. Necross needed a warning. __________________________________________________
Watching the road from the tree's for any possible chance of travelers and loot, Arden of the Roanwood sat on a branch of a large oak hanging over it. He had his hood up to keep out the noontime sun from his eyes. Fall was on, and the last of the summer caravans, trade wagons and faire's would pass through the main forest road.
Arden was stuck as a petty hooded bandit. At one time, he would have been a heroic noble, a freedmen of the land. The Roanwood Estate, no longer called such since the Elk Kin had taken his family castle in a terrible rout. It now less resembled a castle, more a forest glade surrounded by a copse of defensive trees and thorns to keep out the Wolf Raiders and his own clan. Him and yeomen worked and warred against them, and they needed all they could grab. Especially before winter set in.
He kept an eye out, and his men hid within the forest, watching. There was supposed a food and spice caravan heading through, lightly guarded. He finally heard it coming, and smiled when he saw the lead guards. Elk Kin. Sentient or not, once killed, they would provide good food, especially when salted. It was still venison in the end. He gave the signal when the caravan ended up below him. The Elk Kin died in a slight whistle of arrows, on all sides. He dropped out and drew his butchers axe and his woodsmen's axe, taking out any of the other guards, but any humans he kept alive.
After the butchers task was done, the men of his troupe, The Roanwood Company set to making the wagons and the animals disappear. Several hours later, the caravan left the forest rather more empty handed and under the guard of horse riding descendants of knights and noblemen. And, back to sitting in his tree, Arden ate a cut of roast venison sandwiched between roast bread, smiling at his luck. Somewhere, his poster would gain another larger bounty.
And, high above him, a little fork tail swallow watched it all. The Butcher Gang of the Roanwood would go down. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but they would pay. The swallow flew off to the Winged Guards airship.
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Lore
Nov 23, 2014 12:29:29 GMT -6
Post by smilingcrocodile on Nov 23, 2014 12:29:29 GMT -6
The Guards: Known across the lands of Elemuntus as the most basic police force. Though calling them basic is not all that prudent, as they patrol the lands and have a fairly decent intelligence network (when said intelligence network isn't being found out and disappearing themselves). They vary from land to land, some are no better then the bandits and gangs they fight (just shinier) and others are honest to goodness tactical police forces. ________________________________________________
There it was, the smell any farmer could appreciate during the fall harvest, before the always horrible winters of Verime set in. The smoking and salting of all the animals that would not make it through the winter, the steers and pigs of the farming community as a whole. It was life in motion, and in the little mountain valley where near nothing had changed in thousands of years, even with the coming of the talking and walking beasts, it was simple tradition.
It was the simple life, the part of which Jarroc had known for forty years. He'd put up the offerings to the Titans just this morning. When the sun set on the evening, the scarecrow would be taken down, and the burning effigy would go up, with a store of the summer corn and some of the other offerings. He watched the village from his place on the hill, basking in the last of the fall sun. His last glimpse of it was with a sword piercing his chest, and a group of wolf raiders bounding down, smell of the blood in the air bringing them on. ___________________________ Sometimes, an axe is just an axe. And then there are times it's a magic relic slammed through a nobles head, splitting it like an overripe melon, and also exploding it for good measure. Probably for effects. Really, magic weapons were a pain in the Thing. The ones who spoke were usually jack asses, the ones who didn't really want you to kill things, and the others that didn't give untamed impulses just made you feel like you could take on the world and kill with impunity.
Given that the axe seemed to be glowing with satisfaction, it was about the middle of the spectrum. Really, Inspector Korg could only shake his head. There had been a rash of killings, mostly nobles. They didn't seem to care about who they hit, just that they did. And a magic weapon was left at every killing. Almost a trademark. It was very frustrating.
The laughing axe didn't help, at all.
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Minotaurs do not like the Boh'vika, some of the Boh'vika practically worship the Minotaurs, while others would gladly gore the fabled beasts to death and then have them grilled up for some Humes dinner.
Centaurs and the Equius get along slightly better, but it's usually shaky on steppes and plains where they both live. They mostly see each other as equals. So, they can go hoof to hoof if need to be.
Saytr's and the Capri's get along very well. Because after all, a goats a goat. _______________________________________________
They simply know it as The Herald. Male, female, or even what manner of Beastfolk it may be is a mystery. It shows up, wearing a cloak of white over over robes of red and green, a face that is masked and hidden beneath a large hood.
The Herald goes around, mostly to anyplace of any importance, and simply paints upon the doors and walls 'Death is coming for All.' Then, it moves on, simply vanishing as it moves back out into the crowds. It is a most sundry doomsayer, leaving a blunt yet cryptic message. It has scrawled it on the outside of all known temples, on tree's of worship, and holy Titan towers.
Those who attack the Herald simply cease to exist, adding even more fear to it's impending message in this time of peace and prosperity. __________________________________________________
The great Boh'vika Defender, always locking horns with the head of the Minotaurs. A descendent of the Aurochs of old, a towering giant in black and gold, steel tipped horns. Wielding a hammer and mace, and the great black defenders sword, Valiant Night at his back, he walks the earth. At his side, an entourage of other great bulls and berserker boars, tamed from their great northland clans.
An all black group, seeking to right the wrongs of the world. Protecting the innocent. And occasionally teaming up with a group of multi-colored armor wearing beastfolk and hume who do the same, but with much more shouting and have to be replaced every year with new recruits due to the groups high turn over rates. Sometimes they are joined by a rather adventurous young green dragon.
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I once met a jackal in the desert, He sat me round the campfire, Asked if I'd had dinner.
I said no, but if you do, I'd be pleased to have some. And so I sat, expectant in the desert.
And now the jackal plays, my dry bones, as a xylophone.
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