Introduction
The apocalypse. The end of the world. That was the only way people who witnessed the days of the Old One, as it cut a swathe of destruction across the world. A hideous incarnation of primal destruction that rose from the depth of the earth to bring about the end of the world.
There had always been vague stories of the apocalypse, the coming of some ancient avatar of destruction that was prophesied to one day set upon the earth. For the religious men it had always been just a little way away. Each generation was the end times. And each generation passed without incident. Technology grew and people lost interest in much of that old fear and mysticism.
That was until the day the earth split and the great cities of man burned.
When the moon shone red in the smoke-choked sky and humanity faced the summation of its most old and primal fears.
It had no name. They called it many things. After the dust had settled, generations after the burning times, people would refer to it in hushed voices as The Old One.
A god of destruction and death and infinite malice, charged with taking apart the world and returning it to the days before light and life.
And it very nearly succeeded. So many died in those times. And so much progress was lost forever. Armies set loose their greatest and most advanced weapons in hopes of destroying this horrifying thing, and in doing so they would seem to blast it apart, only to watch in dismay as it reformed, unharmed.
Humanity stood on the verge of extinction when a man stepped forward with nothing but an ancient book in one hand.
The man's name was Gabriel Herne, and he would be responsible for saving the world.
A man of mystic knowledge and power, Gabriel knew that The Old One could not be killed. It was a force of nature, a constant that the world could never be rid of once awoken. Something like that could not simply cease to exist. The man had pored through every source, every old text he could find until the solution had present itself before him.
The Old One could not be killed.
But it could be split.
He faced the horrific thing, looked into the face of madness and death, spoke the words he'd spent years of his life searching for, and tore the Old One apart.
--------------------
That is the story told to near any child when they are young. The story of Gabriel the magician and how he saved the world from this walking death. Of course decades have passed since then. Few live who remember the burning times, and even fewer who could say they knew anything about what transpired in the epic battle that took place.
That said, it was true enough that Gabriel Herne did manage to save the world.
What was left of it anyway.
The world is far from what it could have been.
They say that once mankind had all sorta of wonderful technology that every man, woman and child could make use of.
These days tech is a luxury. Unless you are a Lord or Lady, have cosied up to the latter, or are obscenely wealthy, the level of advancement would be little better than medieval times.
The land it split up into provinces that the Lords and Ladies rule over. For all the regal titles, these people are essentially warlords. Either they were vicious enough to hold the lands their mothers or father took after the burning times, or they were vicious enough to take it from someone else. They range from the fair but unspeakably tough, to the out and out psychopathic.
People aren't just more medieval in their technological level...but medieval in their attitudes. People are highly adherent to new gods and cults. They're wary of strangers. They hate and fear things that are strange or unnatural.
Which makes the occurrence of the Witch Gene even more tragic.
The influence of the old one, the dark energy it left in its wake, had a lingering influence, not just on the land itself, but the people.
A few years after the burning times children began being born with horrifying deformities. Claws, sharp teeth, single wings protruding from their shoulderblades. Progressively these things also manifested as strange, dark abilities.
People were disgusted by these tainted creatures, and shunned them. Most 'witch children' will not live past infancy, and those that do can anticipate a dangerous world.
And then, you have the Fragments. The pieces left behind from the Old One. The stories of them are sparse...well..the true ones are. Any drunk bastard in a roadside inn would tell the story of some red-eyed fiend that they fought off in the night, one of the monsters that formed a piece of the shattered Old One itself.
Much of it are only tall tales.
But not all. From time to time the reports filter through of death and destruction. Entire towns levelled and dozens of soldiers torn to pieces in the most horrific ways.
And if those stories are true then those who tell them might have run into something else. The people with guns and armour, and the silver badges that resemble a hunting hound.
Much like the Fragments, many people talk about them, but few have actually met the people. The hunters and jailers on whom the fate of the shattered world now rests. For it's known enough that the pieces of the Old One will seek to re-unite one day, and when they do, everything will be consumed with fire and darkness.
The Wilde Jagd.
The time of year has once again arrived. The last of the snow has started to thaw from the foothills of Mount Koan where Hunter's Court, the fortress of the Wilde Jagd, stands. A intake of trainee hounds has arrived to begin the first steps of their gruelling training.
But this year, it's possible that not all are completely human..
A small cabal of Fragments have a plan to destroy the Wilde Jagd from the inside.
Fragment is the term given to the pieces of the Old One, the ancient god of death. Upon its split it was turn apart into a large number of individual entities which, left stunned by being forced suddenly into existence, were easily collected up and locked away from the world. Kept in isolation from each other, and from the outside, studied relentlessly, it's unclear if that was made some of them into killers, or whether they had always been that way.
Regardless, one day The Rock, the fortress once used to contain all of the Fragments, experienced the chaos of a mass break-out. People were killed, the places burned, and these pieces scattered across the world.
For ten years they've been free and walking amongst the human population.
A few have been recovered by Hounds in that time, and a great number of Hounds have died in pursuit of them. Whilst not all Fragments are inherently evil or malicious, some far from it, their destructive capacity alone has made them hugely dangerous.
And there are plenty of Fragments who more than live up to their name as Monsters.
A Fragment
- Appears human at first glance, but this form contains small flaws. Pointed teeth, or slitted eyes, or some other subtly monstrous trait.
- Have a secondary, horrifying appearance that they will often revert to in order to fight.
- Will not naturally age, however can die of near any other cause that a mortal can (albeit a fragment tends to be considerably more durable than the average man).
- Retains one unnatural ability, even as a 'human'. This is near exclusively something frightening and destructive.
- Can kill and consume other Fragments in order to gain their power. This is what Wilde Jagd fears the most, as it not only makes them far harder to fight, but also brings the Old One one step closer to returning.
- If a Fragment is killed, their power will dissipate and spread out between all remaining living Fragments. This is similarly unwanted for Wile Jagd.
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Wilde Jagd (lit 'Wild Hunt) was founded by the family of Gabriel Herne in the time following the escape of the fragments of the Old One as a means of retrieving them and returning them to indefinite confinement. With the burden proving too great to keep within the family, Wilde Jagd was a creation partially funded by the wealthy Lord Rodin, one of the more powerful, and relatively more benevolent, feudal lords.
Wilde Jagd operates out of one of Rodin's fortresses in the hills north of the province's main city, and, as a result of its funding, has access to old technology most would give their right arm in order to see. Computing devices, communication, advanced medical facilities, and working firearms.
A field agent of the Wilde Jagd is known as a Hound.
Hounds come from all walks of life and sometimes from far provinces, with Wilde Jagd proving a surprisingly unbiased employer, to the point that they are one of the few people who will take on Witches in their ranks. A Witch is treated with no less respect that his or her peers, and as such for the often reviled class of people, it is a very attractive prospect, to the point that many young Witches that would not see adulthood otherwise and up as trainees under Wilde Jagd.
Their kind treatment of their Hounds inspires a fierce loyalty as a result. Most Hounds have no problem putting themselves in danger in pursuit of the greater good, and that greater good is capturing the Fragments and returning them to imprisonment. This job is, of course, an extremely hazardous one. Death or severe injury on the job is a known and accepted risk.
However with so few prospects left, and the potential of fame and respect in the eyes of the people drives many to sign up for the arduous training.
[Name][Power][Played By][OPEN]
[Name][Power][Played By][OPEN]
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Skeleton - Fragment
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[b]Adopted Name[/b]:
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[b]Classification[/b]:
[center][img]IMAGE HERE (if you have another!) [/img][/center]
[b]Appearance (Human)[/b] :
[center][img]IMAGE HERE (if you have another!) [/img][/center]
[b]Appearance (Monster)[/b]:
[b] Skills: [/b]
[b] Special Ability: [/b]
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[b] Other Fragments Consumed (If Known):[/b]
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Skeleton - Hound
- Code: Select all
[FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode]
[center][img]IMAGE HERE (if you have one!) [/img][/center]
[b]Full Name[/b]:
[b]Aliases[/b]:
[b] Age[/b]:
[b]Gender[/b]:
[b]Rank[/b]:
[center][img]IMAGE HERE (if you have another!) [/img][/center]
[b]Appearance (Human)[/b] :
[b] Skills: [/b]
[b] Witch Mutation/s (If Character is a Witch): [/b]
[b] Preferred Equipment:[/b]
[b] Weaknesses[/b]:
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- 36 posts here • Page 2 of 2 • 1, 2
The Story So Far... Write a Post » as written by 9 authors
Spire eyed Hari. "Fortunately, you're one of a kind. Calm down, squirt," he said, not unkindly, but not exactly warmly, either. This spazzy kid was going to be a handful, he could tell.
As each recruit responded to Spire's call by heading to the corner, Spire made mental notes of their notable traits to help him learn their names. Mind you, he didn't care to learn them in the slightest, but he needed to do a meticulously good job with these runts to prove he'd learned his lesson so that he wouldn't have to go through this next year.
-
Aedric studiously pretended not to know his cousin/step brother the same way Spire studiously pretended not to notice him. After exchanging a grin of eager anticipation with Abigail, Aedric glanced at Silas and his smile faded. "Hey--Are you all right?" he mumbled, a hand half-extended, ready to steady him if he fainted or something, genuinely concerned that the guy might be having some kind of medical emergency.
-
"All right," said Spire when they had all gathered, half-dropping the air of formality now that he had a bit of distance from most of the experienced Hounds - at least the ones who wanted his blood. So far, he had gotten along with Lyda just fine. She seemed competent and had thusfar failed to annoy him in any poignant way. Tough enough, but reasonable and patient. She seemed to make a good Yin to his Yang. "Time to show all you around. If you have any questions, I'll respond to Agent Schippers. Or sir. Hell, just Spire if I like you enough."
He paused a moment, his pale eyes settling on each recruit for a few seconds. Half of them looked like scrawny teenagers. And even among those who looked to have a few more years of life experience under their belts, Spire could see expressions of fear. Spire often failed in interpreting subtle emotional changes on peoples' faces, but this fear wasn't subtle - especially on one young man, the pale, dark-haired one; the blanched terror on his face gave Spire a vague flicker of familiarity (someone he had spoken to on a hunt in a town, somewhere, perhaps?).
They were going to get eaten alive. Possibly literally. He had meant to save this for last, but he had an inkling to separate the wheat from the tares now.
"First of all, I'm going to take you to meet a friend of mine." He moved toward one of the buildings, unlocking and holding open the large, wood-carved door for the flood of future Hounds with a flourishing gesture.
Past the entry hall, along a corridor, through a locked door, down a very, very long flight of stairs. The walls were sturdy stone, marked here and there by stark decoration - banners and memorial tokens. Spire was taking them beneath the Hunter's Court.
At the bottom of the staircase stood two identical, thick, iron-enforced doors, each adorned with several layers of locks and deadbolts, one leading left and one leading right. Spire set his hand on the door on the right, lit by a humming fluorescent light overhead. "Fragment cells are through this way. Each one is kept in isolation. It's rather the whole point of our operation here." He set about unlocking the other door, the one on the left. "And this way is the, ah, power supply for the tech around here."
Behind the the door was a small room, and yet another door. A technician sat before a panel that blinked with dials and electronic readouts - technology that would look strange and new to many of the recruits.
"You know what to do," Spire said lazily to the technician.
The technician had opened this door for Spire before, but never with an entourage. His gaze slid over the recruits nervously, and he gave Spire a worried glance, followed by a questioning one at Lyda to make sure this was really okay, but then he did as he was told.
Stiflingly warm air rushed out of the opening. Spire smiled into it as it ruffled his hair, and he crossed the threshold, guiding his little herd of underlings through after him.
Aedric thought he knew what was coming, but he nevertheless felt the blood draining from his face as an involuntary lurch of pity mingled with horror twisted in his stomach.
A much larger space greeted them on the other side, though its occupant didn't seem able to enjoy much of said space. She was what looked like a tall, red-haired woman, bound by chains and four thick beams of heat-conductive metal which thrust through her arms, between the radius and ulna, and apparently bored straight through her shins.
Spire turned his back on her to face the recruits, smiling placidly as though unaffected by the nightmarish scene behind him. "This is The Red Beast. You may have heard of her. We go way back." He winked briefly over his shoulder. "Don't we, Red? Now listen, all of you, stay behind the line unless you want your skin melted off," he directed, indicating the bright white band painted onto the concrete floor in a wide arc around the Fragment, an indicator of how far one must stay away to avoid any projected attacks from the creature.
Spire, however, did not follow his own advice, and he turned back to the Fragment and stepped tauntingly just over the line.
"Hello, Red, how's work?" Spire asked in a cheerful, playful tone. "Would you like to say hello to the rising generation of Hounds?"
As each recruit responded to Spire's call by heading to the corner, Spire made mental notes of their notable traits to help him learn their names. Mind you, he didn't care to learn them in the slightest, but he needed to do a meticulously good job with these runts to prove he'd learned his lesson so that he wouldn't have to go through this next year.
-
Aedric studiously pretended not to know his cousin/step brother the same way Spire studiously pretended not to notice him. After exchanging a grin of eager anticipation with Abigail, Aedric glanced at Silas and his smile faded. "Hey--Are you all right?" he mumbled, a hand half-extended, ready to steady him if he fainted or something, genuinely concerned that the guy might be having some kind of medical emergency.
-
"All right," said Spire when they had all gathered, half-dropping the air of formality now that he had a bit of distance from most of the experienced Hounds - at least the ones who wanted his blood. So far, he had gotten along with Lyda just fine. She seemed competent and had thusfar failed to annoy him in any poignant way. Tough enough, but reasonable and patient. She seemed to make a good Yin to his Yang. "Time to show all you around. If you have any questions, I'll respond to Agent Schippers. Or sir. Hell, just Spire if I like you enough."
He paused a moment, his pale eyes settling on each recruit for a few seconds. Half of them looked like scrawny teenagers. And even among those who looked to have a few more years of life experience under their belts, Spire could see expressions of fear. Spire often failed in interpreting subtle emotional changes on peoples' faces, but this fear wasn't subtle - especially on one young man, the pale, dark-haired one; the blanched terror on his face gave Spire a vague flicker of familiarity (someone he had spoken to on a hunt in a town, somewhere, perhaps?).
They were going to get eaten alive. Possibly literally. He had meant to save this for last, but he had an inkling to separate the wheat from the tares now.
"First of all, I'm going to take you to meet a friend of mine." He moved toward one of the buildings, unlocking and holding open the large, wood-carved door for the flood of future Hounds with a flourishing gesture.
Past the entry hall, along a corridor, through a locked door, down a very, very long flight of stairs. The walls were sturdy stone, marked here and there by stark decoration - banners and memorial tokens. Spire was taking them beneath the Hunter's Court.
At the bottom of the staircase stood two identical, thick, iron-enforced doors, each adorned with several layers of locks and deadbolts, one leading left and one leading right. Spire set his hand on the door on the right, lit by a humming fluorescent light overhead. "Fragment cells are through this way. Each one is kept in isolation. It's rather the whole point of our operation here." He set about unlocking the other door, the one on the left. "And this way is the, ah, power supply for the tech around here."
Behind the the door was a small room, and yet another door. A technician sat before a panel that blinked with dials and electronic readouts - technology that would look strange and new to many of the recruits.
"You know what to do," Spire said lazily to the technician.
The technician had opened this door for Spire before, but never with an entourage. His gaze slid over the recruits nervously, and he gave Spire a worried glance, followed by a questioning one at Lyda to make sure this was really okay, but then he did as he was told.
Stiflingly warm air rushed out of the opening. Spire smiled into it as it ruffled his hair, and he crossed the threshold, guiding his little herd of underlings through after him.
Aedric thought he knew what was coming, but he nevertheless felt the blood draining from his face as an involuntary lurch of pity mingled with horror twisted in his stomach.
A much larger space greeted them on the other side, though its occupant didn't seem able to enjoy much of said space. She was what looked like a tall, red-haired woman, bound by chains and four thick beams of heat-conductive metal which thrust through her arms, between the radius and ulna, and apparently bored straight through her shins.
Spire turned his back on her to face the recruits, smiling placidly as though unaffected by the nightmarish scene behind him. "This is The Red Beast. You may have heard of her. We go way back." He winked briefly over his shoulder. "Don't we, Red? Now listen, all of you, stay behind the line unless you want your skin melted off," he directed, indicating the bright white band painted onto the concrete floor in a wide arc around the Fragment, an indicator of how far one must stay away to avoid any projected attacks from the creature.
Spire, however, did not follow his own advice, and he turned back to the Fragment and stepped tauntingly just over the line.
"Hello, Red, how's work?" Spire asked in a cheerful, playful tone. "Would you like to say hello to the rising generation of Hounds?"
Setting
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Th conduction chamber. Red's home for more years than she could manage to keep track of. Down here there was no day or night. Only the continual dull twilight of some gas bulbs far up in the murky ceiling.
The insulation packed in around it kept the chamber constantly hot. The air was dry and stifling and stung her throat with each intake of breath. Little was permitted within the ring that was flammable, and as such the floor was hard, bare and featureless, save for the coils of chains anchored into the conductors at the four corners of the room, and the metal bars that had been hammered straight through her arms and legs, jarring against bone with any attempt at meaningful movement, though the flesh around them had turned to twisted scar tissue long ago.
This place was maddening.
Red knelt upon the floor of the cell, head hung forwards so as to obscure her face with a curtain of dirty red hair. Her clothing, what was left of it, sat ragged, charred..and quite filthy, much like her skin, which was streaked with sweat and soot. Jagged red marks, like cracks in dirty porcelain, littered the pallid surface.
She'd been quiet for a while, and one might assume her to be asleep...whatever passed for it when the metal driven through her limbs made lying down impossible...but from any hound looking in it was difficult to tell. Who could even think to fathom what the monster was thinking?
The noise of the door however attracted Red's attention. Her head inclined a little towards the entrance. Her grey eyes narrowed and cracked lips twisted into a snarl as she spotted the man at the front of the group.
They knew each other. Oh they had a long history together.
Red's fingers twitched and tightened up into fists and she watched the man, just daring for him to push his luck a little too far and get close enough for her to turn him into a human firework. All he need do was get just a tiny bit too confident. They had played this game for years. She had no chance of ever winning it. And yet every single time she still tried to destroy him.
Such was this that the Red Beast had barely noticed the presence of others, the trainees, in the dark, stifling hell where she'd dwelt for so long. Things had moved far beyond any concern for what the hounds' greater plan was. She could not care what they were doing. All she wanted was to get out. To get out and snap Spire Schippers' neck.
The insulation packed in around it kept the chamber constantly hot. The air was dry and stifling and stung her throat with each intake of breath. Little was permitted within the ring that was flammable, and as such the floor was hard, bare and featureless, save for the coils of chains anchored into the conductors at the four corners of the room, and the metal bars that had been hammered straight through her arms and legs, jarring against bone with any attempt at meaningful movement, though the flesh around them had turned to twisted scar tissue long ago.
This place was maddening.
Red knelt upon the floor of the cell, head hung forwards so as to obscure her face with a curtain of dirty red hair. Her clothing, what was left of it, sat ragged, charred..and quite filthy, much like her skin, which was streaked with sweat and soot. Jagged red marks, like cracks in dirty porcelain, littered the pallid surface.
She'd been quiet for a while, and one might assume her to be asleep...whatever passed for it when the metal driven through her limbs made lying down impossible...but from any hound looking in it was difficult to tell. Who could even think to fathom what the monster was thinking?
The noise of the door however attracted Red's attention. Her head inclined a little towards the entrance. Her grey eyes narrowed and cracked lips twisted into a snarl as she spotted the man at the front of the group.
They knew each other. Oh they had a long history together.
Red's fingers twitched and tightened up into fists and she watched the man, just daring for him to push his luck a little too far and get close enough for her to turn him into a human firework. All he need do was get just a tiny bit too confident. They had played this game for years. She had no chance of ever winning it. And yet every single time she still tried to destroy him.
Such was this that the Red Beast had barely noticed the presence of others, the trainees, in the dark, stifling hell where she'd dwelt for so long. Things had moved far beyond any concern for what the hounds' greater plan was. She could not care what they were doing. All she wanted was to get out. To get out and snap Spire Schippers' neck.
"All right...time to show all you around. If you have any questions, I'll respond to Agent Schippers. Or sir. Hell, just Spire if I like you enough."
As the group was moving forward, Demetrius took the time to study the others, glancing at each one while he thought to himself; it was in his nature to want to seek the proverbial gold at the end of the rainbow, after all.
Aedric Terrence...definitely someone I could get along with. He's too much of a wimp to do anything immoral...but he does seem to have the capacity of doing something stupid.
Abigail Smith...while she's definitely odd, she seems like someone who I could legitimately trust. Perhaps not if she knew my secret, though. Even with one arm, it looks like she could pack quite the punch.
Hari...just like Aedric, his lack of experience is gonna probably end up causing something bad to happen. I don't know if it'll be to me, or him, or to anyone and everyone, but I do know for certain that it'll certainly be a pickle to get out of.
And finally--Demetrius took a good, long look at Silas--...Silas Kost. Although I think our relationship could remain amicable, his nonchalant, almost overconfident features tell me that he can't be trusted if we're both found out. It'll be some time before I can begin to properly trust him.
As for Spire Schippers, Demetrius had a slowly-growing distaste for his superior. It was clear that he didn't truly care for his subordinates. However, Demetrius was a soldier. No matter what he thought of the people leading and directing him, he should never question their legitimacy--that is, unless they violate his beliefs. Which didn't seem completely out of the realm of possibility for Spire.
Demetrius was brought out of the confines of his mind when he noticed that they were walking into a certain building, stepping down an expansive flight of stairs that ended at two metal doors. "Fragment cells are through this way. Each one is kept in isolation. It's rather the whole point of our operation here."
His eyes widened in shock when they entered the corridor. All around his flanks, Fragments were lined in solitary cells. What he couldn't fathom, however, was how many he recognized--both from Saltmaw and during his travels as a wanderer.
Ilirath...Sivreo...Bareol...this is where they took you guys after you were captured?
He stopped in his tracks when they came upon the last cell, which was already facing the group. An expression of terror befell his face when he saw the Red Beast restricted by chains in the center.
She had nearly killed him during one of her last rampages.
In the chaos that was tearing up his usually-structured thoughts, he became worried for Spire when he entered the Red Beast's radius of destruction.
"Would you like to say hello to the rising generation of Hounds?"
Demetrius didn't care what happened next; he just didn't want to be recognized by the Red Beast. He knew for sure that it would place unwanted suspicion on himself.
As the group was moving forward, Demetrius took the time to study the others, glancing at each one while he thought to himself; it was in his nature to want to seek the proverbial gold at the end of the rainbow, after all.
Aedric Terrence...definitely someone I could get along with. He's too much of a wimp to do anything immoral...but he does seem to have the capacity of doing something stupid.
Abigail Smith...while she's definitely odd, she seems like someone who I could legitimately trust. Perhaps not if she knew my secret, though. Even with one arm, it looks like she could pack quite the punch.
Hari...just like Aedric, his lack of experience is gonna probably end up causing something bad to happen. I don't know if it'll be to me, or him, or to anyone and everyone, but I do know for certain that it'll certainly be a pickle to get out of.
And finally--Demetrius took a good, long look at Silas--...Silas Kost. Although I think our relationship could remain amicable, his nonchalant, almost overconfident features tell me that he can't be trusted if we're both found out. It'll be some time before I can begin to properly trust him.
As for Spire Schippers, Demetrius had a slowly-growing distaste for his superior. It was clear that he didn't truly care for his subordinates. However, Demetrius was a soldier. No matter what he thought of the people leading and directing him, he should never question their legitimacy--that is, unless they violate his beliefs. Which didn't seem completely out of the realm of possibility for Spire.
Demetrius was brought out of the confines of his mind when he noticed that they were walking into a certain building, stepping down an expansive flight of stairs that ended at two metal doors. "Fragment cells are through this way. Each one is kept in isolation. It's rather the whole point of our operation here."
His eyes widened in shock when they entered the corridor. All around his flanks, Fragments were lined in solitary cells. What he couldn't fathom, however, was how many he recognized--both from Saltmaw and during his travels as a wanderer.
Ilirath...Sivreo...Bareol...this is where they took you guys after you were captured?
He stopped in his tracks when they came upon the last cell, which was already facing the group. An expression of terror befell his face when he saw the Red Beast restricted by chains in the center.
She had nearly killed him during one of her last rampages.
In the chaos that was tearing up his usually-structured thoughts, he became worried for Spire when he entered the Red Beast's radius of destruction.
"Would you like to say hello to the rising generation of Hounds?"
Demetrius didn't care what happened next; he just didn't want to be recognized by the Red Beast. He knew for sure that it would place unwanted suspicion on himself.
Abigail stuck close to Aedric. Even though she thought him a wimp at times he was the only one in this group she truly trusted. She was quite shocked seeing Spire show up, though not so shocked at the way he carried himself. Spire was an ass but she knew he could be be trusted.
Abigail followed Spire and the rest in silence. That was until they opened the doors to the cells. Deeper and deeper they went. Abby peeked in a room or two but never for long. She glaced at Aedric from time to time. Part of her wanted to say something but she stayed quiet.
The group finally came to another door and Spire opened it. Beyond the door lay something the likes of which she had never seen. Spire called the female creature the Red Beast. A very fitting name she thought as she stepped closer.
"So this is a fragment?" Abby asked as she stepped up close to the line making sure not to cross over it as she studied the creature.
Abigail followed Spire and the rest in silence. That was until they opened the doors to the cells. Deeper and deeper they went. Abby peeked in a room or two but never for long. She glaced at Aedric from time to time. Part of her wanted to say something but she stayed quiet.
The group finally came to another door and Spire opened it. Beyond the door lay something the likes of which she had never seen. Spire called the female creature the Red Beast. A very fitting name she thought as she stepped closer.
"So this is a fragment?" Abby asked as she stepped up close to the line making sure not to cross over it as she studied the creature.
Silas watched but barely reacted to the apperance of Hari and Ms. Fox, still pale from the unpleasant arrival of Spire. It took him a few moments to notice that Aedirc was speaking to him. Silas managed a small nod and a smile. "Oh yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry." Silas forced the color to return more than aware that his reaction was being noticed. He took a deep breath. Everything was going to be fine. He could handle Spire. When the time came he could handle him. After all Silas had the surprise advantage. He could catch the Hound off guard, he could kill him before the man even had a chance to strike back.He smiled at the thought of finally seeing Spire's crushed body, bloody, and broken. Finally an end to the nightmare.
As they walked among the cells Silas sported wided awestruck eyes. He couldn't believe his eyes. Fortune had smiled upon the fragment. His enemy had served as his guide, bringing Silas to the cells of his siblings. He was prepared to be patient. Prepared to wait for his oppritunity to find this place, and already in less than a few hours he was here.
No longer steeped in fear he wore a calmer form of cautiousness, though his stomach twisted and turned, an unease creeping up his back at seeing his brethren stuck in cages. He didn't let this unease take shelter on his face, instead he studied the fragments within the cells, seeing who he recognized, who would cause the most damage once freed. As he did so he began to imagine himself locked behind bars once more but quickly pushed the thought from his mind, not caring for the memories being brought to the surface.
He looked at the fragments within the cages. Many of them looked at his little group with ire that stung like acid at skin.
Many others just seemed to stare at the walls of their cells, dejectedly, and empty, all hope for freedom gone.I will not let this be me. Not again. Never again. Don't worry brothers and sisters. When the time is right. I will set you free, and the Hounds will die
As the technician opened the door Silas found himself wondering exactly which of his kin lay behind the door. It was a sturdy looking cell. Far more so than the ones they had passed beforehand. Whoever sat beyond it certainly seemed a higher priority. One the Hounds would least want escaping. Silas made a mental note of this cell for the future intending for this one to be one of the first gifted with freedom.
Upon entering the room the temperature immediate and almost violently changed, his brow began to sweat. Was it the heat or the creature that sat before him? Spire called her the Red Beast, an appropriate moniker if there ever was one, one that rang familiar bells. Silas never had the pleasure of meeting this one, but her name was spoken by the Hounds in hushed whispers. This one scared them and from what he's heard for good reason.. She stood kneeling like a dog, trapper with no hope of escaping. Her limbs were speared leaving her incapable of moving, the cursed things leaving hideous scars across her flesh. She was broken, chained, and yet somehow still radiated an aura of pure power, and strength. She was not afraid. You hate him too. Don't you sister? Don't worry. Just give me time, and I can give him to you
"So this is a fragment?" Abby's question broke Silas from his shifting plans. He looked at her than back towards red. He moved back a bit from the line but kept his eyes focused on Red.Looks like it, yeah. I've never seen one so close before. The Red Beast? I've actually heard of her I think. She's killed dozens of Hounds right?"
As they walked among the cells Silas sported wided awestruck eyes. He couldn't believe his eyes. Fortune had smiled upon the fragment. His enemy had served as his guide, bringing Silas to the cells of his siblings. He was prepared to be patient. Prepared to wait for his oppritunity to find this place, and already in less than a few hours he was here.
No longer steeped in fear he wore a calmer form of cautiousness, though his stomach twisted and turned, an unease creeping up his back at seeing his brethren stuck in cages. He didn't let this unease take shelter on his face, instead he studied the fragments within the cells, seeing who he recognized, who would cause the most damage once freed. As he did so he began to imagine himself locked behind bars once more but quickly pushed the thought from his mind, not caring for the memories being brought to the surface.
He looked at the fragments within the cages. Many of them looked at his little group with ire that stung like acid at skin.
Many others just seemed to stare at the walls of their cells, dejectedly, and empty, all hope for freedom gone.I will not let this be me. Not again. Never again. Don't worry brothers and sisters. When the time is right. I will set you free, and the Hounds will die
As the technician opened the door Silas found himself wondering exactly which of his kin lay behind the door. It was a sturdy looking cell. Far more so than the ones they had passed beforehand. Whoever sat beyond it certainly seemed a higher priority. One the Hounds would least want escaping. Silas made a mental note of this cell for the future intending for this one to be one of the first gifted with freedom.
Upon entering the room the temperature immediate and almost violently changed, his brow began to sweat. Was it the heat or the creature that sat before him? Spire called her the Red Beast, an appropriate moniker if there ever was one, one that rang familiar bells. Silas never had the pleasure of meeting this one, but her name was spoken by the Hounds in hushed whispers. This one scared them and from what he's heard for good reason.. She stood kneeling like a dog, trapper with no hope of escaping. Her limbs were speared leaving her incapable of moving, the cursed things leaving hideous scars across her flesh. She was broken, chained, and yet somehow still radiated an aura of pure power, and strength. She was not afraid. You hate him too. Don't you sister? Don't worry. Just give me time, and I can give him to you
"So this is a fragment?" Abby's question broke Silas from his shifting plans. He looked at her than back towards red. He moved back a bit from the line but kept his eyes focused on Red.Looks like it, yeah. I've never seen one so close before. The Red Beast? I've actually heard of her I think. She's killed dozens of Hounds right?"
She looked over her shoulder, watching him actually sit down. He actually sat down gently. She tried to suppress a laugh that was building up in her throat. It almost felt like acid. Coughing she tended to her garden, picking out the weeds and watering the plants before actually picking the ones that were ripe. She had an arm full and had to go to her porch to set down the ones she had before going back and picking the rest.
"I think it is Spanish, I think. So, where have you been? What happened to you after all... " her free hand waved in the air, "that stuff happened." She was trying to make conversation with him. Going back to the porch she sat down on the other side of the vegetables and started sorting through them as she waited for him to answer.
"I think it is Spanish, I think. So, where have you been? What happened to you after all... " her free hand waved in the air, "that stuff happened." She was trying to make conversation with him. Going back to the porch she sat down on the other side of the vegetables and started sorting through them as she waited for him to answer.
The scent was strong, very strong. His prey was nearby, hiding form him but it wouldn't last. Alton was not someone who was easily miss lead and in the case of this prey he wouldn't let them escape. Alton growled sinisterly as he launched himself forward, running down the alley towards the one's who though they had chosen their hiding spot well. Alton's legs propelled him faster than a normal human down the narrow space towards the pile of discarded trash where he leaped over it, surprising the occupants, “Found you!” He growled with a smirk. Screams split the air as Alton descended on the targets and pined two of them. Now he hand them, Alton had two of his prey at his mercy and so he would do to them as they had done to him. This was a long time coming and now Alton would savor every moment, this would be payment for everything he let them do to him. So without further ado, Alton began tickling them.
The two children burst out into gales of laughter as Alton showed them no mercy. But within moments the other three jumped on Alton to try and save their friends but it was a mistake as Alton just flipped them off and pined them with their friends to receive their just reward. Fight as hard as they could the children couldn't escape his grasp, “Now you little rascals, how do you like it eh? Not so fun now is it?” He playfully taunted, “Just say the magic words and it will all end.” Of course they didn't say it at first but after a few minutes they eventual surrendered and said “uncle!” quite a few times before he stop. Laughing the group picked themselves off the ground as Alton patted one of them on the head, “Well then I think you've all learned your lesson, never try to hunt the hunter. Now run along.” He said. The children giggled as they bid him goodbye and ran off out of the alley.
Alton chuckled as he too left the alley and began making his way through the little town. As he went on people greeted and bid him a good day as he went about. He had lived in this town for the last seven months since relocating from his prior home. Solcast had been a normal town but it had little tolerance for those with Witch genes which had been the reason for him fleeing the town. Alzmut was a farcry from Solcast as its populous didn't have so much of a problem. Of course you had the occasion naysayer but otherwise most people didn't care if you had wings or claws. Alton took advantage of it and let everyone assume he was a werewolf like witch. Now if they found out he was a fragment he wasn't sure what the reaction would be but he was sure it wouldn't be pleasant.
Thankfully he had kept that little secret to himself and was going to keep it that way for as long as he could. Alton loved this little community and was as close to being an accepted part of humanity as he could be. Back when he was a guest at Saltmaw he told everyone his desire to be an accepted part of humans. Alton would give up his fragment heritage to be accepted by humans but that was mostly out of a sense of self preservation from being reintegrated into that abomination or consumed by other fragments for their own gains. But if he had it his way Alton would retain his unique features and traits without the unsavory heritage. But for now he was a simple witch who was Alzmut's resident hunter.
But for how long with it last?
The last thought caused him to pause in the middle of the market place. It was busy with dozen upon dozens of people going about their way. Being an animal based fragment meant he had the same instincts as animals and for a while now Alton had a feeling something was in the air. Like something bad was about to happen and very soon. Animals have a very strange way of detecting when something dangerous was about to happen and Alton's wolf instincts were just short of going mad. He didn't know for sure what was about to happen but Alton knew one thing.
What ever it was, it was no doubt a threat to him.
The two children burst out into gales of laughter as Alton showed them no mercy. But within moments the other three jumped on Alton to try and save their friends but it was a mistake as Alton just flipped them off and pined them with their friends to receive their just reward. Fight as hard as they could the children couldn't escape his grasp, “Now you little rascals, how do you like it eh? Not so fun now is it?” He playfully taunted, “Just say the magic words and it will all end.” Of course they didn't say it at first but after a few minutes they eventual surrendered and said “uncle!” quite a few times before he stop. Laughing the group picked themselves off the ground as Alton patted one of them on the head, “Well then I think you've all learned your lesson, never try to hunt the hunter. Now run along.” He said. The children giggled as they bid him goodbye and ran off out of the alley.
Alton chuckled as he too left the alley and began making his way through the little town. As he went on people greeted and bid him a good day as he went about. He had lived in this town for the last seven months since relocating from his prior home. Solcast had been a normal town but it had little tolerance for those with Witch genes which had been the reason for him fleeing the town. Alzmut was a farcry from Solcast as its populous didn't have so much of a problem. Of course you had the occasion naysayer but otherwise most people didn't care if you had wings or claws. Alton took advantage of it and let everyone assume he was a werewolf like witch. Now if they found out he was a fragment he wasn't sure what the reaction would be but he was sure it wouldn't be pleasant.
Thankfully he had kept that little secret to himself and was going to keep it that way for as long as he could. Alton loved this little community and was as close to being an accepted part of humanity as he could be. Back when he was a guest at Saltmaw he told everyone his desire to be an accepted part of humans. Alton would give up his fragment heritage to be accepted by humans but that was mostly out of a sense of self preservation from being reintegrated into that abomination or consumed by other fragments for their own gains. But if he had it his way Alton would retain his unique features and traits without the unsavory heritage. But for now he was a simple witch who was Alzmut's resident hunter.
But for how long with it last?
The last thought caused him to pause in the middle of the market place. It was busy with dozen upon dozens of people going about their way. Being an animal based fragment meant he had the same instincts as animals and for a while now Alton had a feeling something was in the air. Like something bad was about to happen and very soon. Animals have a very strange way of detecting when something dangerous was about to happen and Alton's wolf instincts were just short of going mad. He didn't know for sure what was about to happen but Alton knew one thing.
What ever it was, it was no doubt a threat to him.
Lehechalesh hesitated at first, gazing distantly out at the sky, thinking on how to explain himself from a point he disliked to remember. He sighs, placing his hand to his face, knuckles propped against his brow. No point holding back.
"That day," he mutters, closing his eye, his expression and tone turning stark. "I didn't really have a destination, really, I just kept moving forward. I wanted to be as far away as I could, to erase that day from my mind, to just, disappear. I spent a long time, just lost like that, it was oddly... pleasant for a time."
He then slowly holds out his hand, cupping it, wearily gazing down into it, as if checking if it was actually real.
"I've killed seven," he says, his voice a bit quieter. "The four rabid animals who attacked me during the massacre at Saltmaw, and two others I met along after... each intended to kill me, consume me, but instead I was the one who... I don't even know exactly... why I did what I did... ah, the seventh was human, a hound. I didn't intend that one either, normally I would just break their wills, or something non-vital, but this one was just too... persistent. I'm not proud of any of it, but it was like everyone would either rather run, or try to kill me on sight."
Dropping his hand down he slowly looks down, closing his eye once more.
"Every time I close my eyes since that massacre at Saltmaw, I dream the same thing, air full of ash and shadows, and a land of dust," he says softly, pantomiming as he goes, before pointing upwards. "In the sky a wretched red moon, and all around a symphony of wails, death filling my nostrils. I am left to wonder, why would a being who's likely laid dormant beneath the earth for so long, awaken only to destroy everything in one big barbaric show of power? I've been picking through the ruins, trying to figure out how I'm a part of such a... mindless monstrosity."
He then snaps his head back and slaps his hand over his forehead, then looks over at Mel.
"I'm sorry, I'm not normally this chatty, then again I've never been asked, either," he says, slightly lightening in his mood. "What about you, though? You've made quite a place here for yourself."
"That day," he mutters, closing his eye, his expression and tone turning stark. "I didn't really have a destination, really, I just kept moving forward. I wanted to be as far away as I could, to erase that day from my mind, to just, disappear. I spent a long time, just lost like that, it was oddly... pleasant for a time."
He then slowly holds out his hand, cupping it, wearily gazing down into it, as if checking if it was actually real.
"I've killed seven," he says, his voice a bit quieter. "The four rabid animals who attacked me during the massacre at Saltmaw, and two others I met along after... each intended to kill me, consume me, but instead I was the one who... I don't even know exactly... why I did what I did... ah, the seventh was human, a hound. I didn't intend that one either, normally I would just break their wills, or something non-vital, but this one was just too... persistent. I'm not proud of any of it, but it was like everyone would either rather run, or try to kill me on sight."
Dropping his hand down he slowly looks down, closing his eye once more.
"Every time I close my eyes since that massacre at Saltmaw, I dream the same thing, air full of ash and shadows, and a land of dust," he says softly, pantomiming as he goes, before pointing upwards. "In the sky a wretched red moon, and all around a symphony of wails, death filling my nostrils. I am left to wonder, why would a being who's likely laid dormant beneath the earth for so long, awaken only to destroy everything in one big barbaric show of power? I've been picking through the ruins, trying to figure out how I'm a part of such a... mindless monstrosity."
He then snaps his head back and slaps his hand over his forehead, then looks over at Mel.
"I'm sorry, I'm not normally this chatty, then again I've never been asked, either," he says, slightly lightening in his mood. "What about you, though? You've made quite a place here for yourself."
She listened to him, staying quiet. She that day well. It was something she didn't think anyone who was there could forget. Some it drove mad, others it drove them to move forward. For her... it was something to run away from, something that needed to be left in the past. Yet, it always came up, like a hungry weed. It came up to try and suffocate her and everything that was good. When he was done he looked to her and threw the question back to her, which he figured he would do. Taking a tomato she handed it to him and got ready to tell her story.
"Well... let's see. Where do I want to start? I guess I will start at when I got out, seems like a great place, yeah?" She turned, facing her garden and leaned back on her hands, taking in the sun. "Ugh, someone had gotten out. I don't know who it was or how it did it, but I was close to where the opening where it got out. The guards were trying to get the more violent ones back, so I took my chance and ran. I had no idea where I was going or where I was... I think I ran mostly because I had the freedom to. I ended up staying in a section of woods, feeding off wild animals until I figured I could transform into a human. Too bad my teeth and hands didn't get the memo." She laughed, closing her eyes thinking about those days. "I shied away from from humans, keep my distance as best as I could, and it worked for sometime. But then humans got curious and when I got seen by one of them I ran. I never took my chances. I guess it was instinct. I did that a few times, even dodged our own kind without incident. Then I met a human that I didn't want to run from." She smiled sadly an the remembrance of him. "His name was Winston. A human who made himself. He wanted to experience life itself. He had hope that humans could restore themselves, but in a better way, whatever that meant. Winston was a good man. I learned how to love because of him. He was what humans call a lover. I had stayed with him for a year or so before his own kind took him for what little he had. I knew then that humans were just as much as monsters as we were." Her hands curled into fist. "The only humans I ever killed were them. I tore them to shreds and wrote in their blood MONSTERS. I have no regret doing it... Anyway, Winston was the person who taught me how to build and grow. I had left that place and found this little home and decided best to try and make it here. So far so good till One Eyed Joe came." She looked at him and winked.
"Well... let's see. Where do I want to start? I guess I will start at when I got out, seems like a great place, yeah?" She turned, facing her garden and leaned back on her hands, taking in the sun. "Ugh, someone had gotten out. I don't know who it was or how it did it, but I was close to where the opening where it got out. The guards were trying to get the more violent ones back, so I took my chance and ran. I had no idea where I was going or where I was... I think I ran mostly because I had the freedom to. I ended up staying in a section of woods, feeding off wild animals until I figured I could transform into a human. Too bad my teeth and hands didn't get the memo." She laughed, closing her eyes thinking about those days. "I shied away from from humans, keep my distance as best as I could, and it worked for sometime. But then humans got curious and when I got seen by one of them I ran. I never took my chances. I guess it was instinct. I did that a few times, even dodged our own kind without incident. Then I met a human that I didn't want to run from." She smiled sadly an the remembrance of him. "His name was Winston. A human who made himself. He wanted to experience life itself. He had hope that humans could restore themselves, but in a better way, whatever that meant. Winston was a good man. I learned how to love because of him. He was what humans call a lover. I had stayed with him for a year or so before his own kind took him for what little he had. I knew then that humans were just as much as monsters as we were." Her hands curled into fist. "The only humans I ever killed were them. I tore them to shreds and wrote in their blood MONSTERS. I have no regret doing it... Anyway, Winston was the person who taught me how to build and grow. I had left that place and found this little home and decided best to try and make it here. So far so good till One Eyed Joe came." She looked at him and winked.
To the south...To the south east?....To the...The...How were the trainees doing? She wondered why she was walking to the south now. Why was that actually? Did she have something important to do? If she had something important to do surley she would not have forgotten. She must have been on a lovley stroll surley, with a nice sun and many new faces walking around it was definitely a lovely stroll.
Deciding it was best to go check up on the new people, she turned around and began to head north west. That's where that man told them to gather. She was curious to find out about the new Hounds that would join them now. She only spoke to them for a few merry minutes. They had the strangest questions. And they were strange people.
They would be good company she was sure of that. And perhaps she could lend some of her knowledge to them. Yeah, she was ready to meet them. After wandering around the town for a few minutes longer than needed to look at some interesting sights. Weeds growing on stone...such a sight indeed. It was interesting to see nature retake land. Even hard stone was no match for the growth of nature.
Oh yeah, the new recruits. She soon arrived at the entrance of the cells and wandered inside. There were faces she has never seen. Oh! She remembered one face! Not The Red Beast of course, some other Fragment. Yeah, their leader during that time messed up hard and got her team in very big trouble. It was a little bothersome, was she mad? Sad? Neutral? She was not sure what she felt during that time. All she knew was that he sucked as a leader during that time and a bit of people were killed.
New recruits, of course. Walking behind Silas, Karolin tapped him on the shoulder. "How goes the tour?" She asked unsure if she startled him or not.
Deciding it was best to go check up on the new people, she turned around and began to head north west. That's where that man told them to gather. She was curious to find out about the new Hounds that would join them now. She only spoke to them for a few merry minutes. They had the strangest questions. And they were strange people.
They would be good company she was sure of that. And perhaps she could lend some of her knowledge to them. Yeah, she was ready to meet them. After wandering around the town for a few minutes longer than needed to look at some interesting sights. Weeds growing on stone...such a sight indeed. It was interesting to see nature retake land. Even hard stone was no match for the growth of nature.
Oh yeah, the new recruits. She soon arrived at the entrance of the cells and wandered inside. There were faces she has never seen. Oh! She remembered one face! Not The Red Beast of course, some other Fragment. Yeah, their leader during that time messed up hard and got her team in very big trouble. It was a little bothersome, was she mad? Sad? Neutral? She was not sure what she felt during that time. All she knew was that he sucked as a leader during that time and a bit of people were killed.
New recruits, of course. Walking behind Silas, Karolin tapped him on the shoulder. "How goes the tour?" She asked unsure if she startled him or not.
He took the tomato and listened to her story, her recollections, and a clear sensitive subject that even a loner as himself could see. She had become infatuated with a human, holding him with very high regard no less. He leans over and props himself on one of his arms, it intrigued him to hear another fragment speak so sentimentally, a smirk on his face forming. Well, if there can be sensible fragments, he could only assume the same could be said of humans, after all, it was like a bit of them was in each of them. He frowns however, when he hears that this human was murdered, only to chuckle afterwards at the obvious joke in his direction.
"It is a shame," he says, closing his eye and scratching the side of his head. "He sounded like he'd have been an interesting conversationalist as well, big dreams are hard to come by these days. I am sorry. And believe me, I will not shame you for putting down a few beasts."
He pauses for a moment, realizing it was better not to linger on dark subjects. He holds up the tomato, and smirks again.
"Amusing fact with this particular fruit," he begins, rolling it around in his large palm. "Humans used to think these were poisonous. Partially true, the plant itself is toxic, but the fruit itself is perfectly fine. Turns out the richer of them thought it was toxic only because the acid in its juice was dissolving the lead content from their plates, and the few that tried died from lead poisoning. This fear remained late into cultural development until, one day, they realized their stupid mistake and found it was actually quite delicious, especially alongside meat between two slices of bread."
He stops and looks to Melaniya, despite speaking so harshly about humans and their ignorance, there was something else to what he was saying, reflected in his eye.
"The point is, this Winston was proof of his own hypothesis, he was even able to find in you what you didn't even see in yourself, at least, that is how I interpret it," he continues, it was clear he had been thinking about this a lot. "History, from what scraps I've found, shows that humans are just... a bit slow on it, I guess, with a few geniuses that are faster on it than other. Winston was a genius for humans, and we, we are those for fragments. A fragment that loves, and one that dreams.
With this he leans forward slightly, a sudden spark in his eye. It was like that of a scientist that had a sudden breakthrough and was excited to share it.
"Perhaps... ah, what Winston meant, is that he saw signs of a... what did they call it? Ah, a paradigm shift? That is what I've been looking for as well... a change. I wish was able to thank him... so, thank you instead."
"It is a shame," he says, closing his eye and scratching the side of his head. "He sounded like he'd have been an interesting conversationalist as well, big dreams are hard to come by these days. I am sorry. And believe me, I will not shame you for putting down a few beasts."
He pauses for a moment, realizing it was better not to linger on dark subjects. He holds up the tomato, and smirks again.
"Amusing fact with this particular fruit," he begins, rolling it around in his large palm. "Humans used to think these were poisonous. Partially true, the plant itself is toxic, but the fruit itself is perfectly fine. Turns out the richer of them thought it was toxic only because the acid in its juice was dissolving the lead content from their plates, and the few that tried died from lead poisoning. This fear remained late into cultural development until, one day, they realized their stupid mistake and found it was actually quite delicious, especially alongside meat between two slices of bread."
He stops and looks to Melaniya, despite speaking so harshly about humans and their ignorance, there was something else to what he was saying, reflected in his eye.
"The point is, this Winston was proof of his own hypothesis, he was even able to find in you what you didn't even see in yourself, at least, that is how I interpret it," he continues, it was clear he had been thinking about this a lot. "History, from what scraps I've found, shows that humans are just... a bit slow on it, I guess, with a few geniuses that are faster on it than other. Winston was a genius for humans, and we, we are those for fragments. A fragment that loves, and one that dreams.
With this he leans forward slightly, a sudden spark in his eye. It was like that of a scientist that had a sudden breakthrough and was excited to share it.
"Perhaps... ah, what Winston meant, is that he saw signs of a... what did they call it? Ah, a paradigm shift? That is what I've been looking for as well... a change. I wish was able to thank him... so, thank you instead."
- 36 posts here • Page 2 of 2 • 1, 2
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View All » Add Character » 13 Characters to follow in this universe
Newest
Hari
Run with the hare, hunt with the Hounds.
Karolin Baade
"I am very much human, never mind the strange traits."
Lord Lehechalesh
"I have witnessed truth, my... 'kind,' filled with visionless animals, and mortals... well, if it were not for fear of the Old One, then they would still be out slitting each other's throats."
Melaniya Carpio
Truth is, humans are monsters too.
Renauch
"If you wanna live, then you better not lose my respect."
Silas Kost
"You may think of me a monster, but I just want to live my life"
Trending
Lord Lehechalesh
"I have witnessed truth, my... 'kind,' filled with visionless animals, and mortals... well, if it were not for fear of the Old One, then they would still be out slitting each other's throats."
Silas Kost
"You may think of me a monster, but I just want to live my life"
Melaniya Carpio
Truth is, humans are monsters too.
Renauch
"If you wanna live, then you better not lose my respect."
Nadel Solé
A knight seeks the truth, seeks the heart. We call this the corso. The path set before us; the race we must run.
Karolin Baade
"I am very much human, never mind the strange traits."
Most Followed
Renauch
"If you wanna live, then you better not lose my respect."
Karolin Baade
"I am very much human, never mind the strange traits."
Silas Kost
"You may think of me a monster, but I just want to live my life"
Hari
Run with the hare, hunt with the Hounds.
Nadel Solé
A knight seeks the truth, seeks the heart. We call this the corso. The path set before us; the race we must run.
Melaniya Carpio
Truth is, humans are monsters too.
Fullscreen Chat » Create Topic » The Wilde Jagd: Out of Character
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The Wilde Jagd
1 ... 4, 5, 6by VitaminHeart on Thu Jun 08, 2017 1:41 pm
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The Wilde Jagd
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Lore Thread
by VitaminHeart on Thu Jun 08, 2017 3:36 pm
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Lore Thread
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