Wilde Jagd

Wilde Jagd

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We will hunt the damned to the ends of the earth to save what is left. We are Wilde Jagd, The Wild Hunt.

1,325 readers have visited Wilde Jagd since VitaminHeart created it.

Introduction

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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.


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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 last hope we've got.







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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.
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  • 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.

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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 know and accepted risk.


For many Hounds though, there are few alternatives.


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Skeleton - Fragment

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[b]Appearance (Human)[/b] :

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[b]Appearance (Monster)[/b]:



[b] Skills: [/b]

[b] Special Ability: [/b]

[b] Weaknesses[/b]:

[b] Other Fragments Consumed (If Known):[/b]



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Skeleton - Hound


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[FONT=Lucida Sans Unicode][b]ID Code: (A six-digit code)[/b]

[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]:



[b]Persona:[/b]

[b] Known History: [/b]

[b] Other: [/b]

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Toggle Rules

The GM of this roleplay hasn't created any rules! You can do whatever you like!

The Story So Far... Write a Post » as written by 6 authors

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Oren

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Hunter's Castle - The Core

The sun had just begun to peek over the ramparts of Hunter's Castle.

Though at that point at least one of the Wilde Jagd had been awake quite some time.

A figure, wrapped in a long coat stepped with a brisk sense of purpose along the stone flags of the outer walkway, her presence eliciting a nod and a greeting from the gate's sentry.

Possibly with a hint of displeasure that a hound took it upon themselves to wander around the wilds by themselves at dawn.

Whilst Hunter's Castle sat in the Core region, it was to the north, near the border; an altogether more rough and dangerous place than the shallow valleys and farmlands near the capital. The view from the gate to the north was dominated by the grey, jagged spire of Mount Koan, and beyond that stormy range lay Vinlund and the other more scattered lands of the north. It was not uncommon for bandits to stray into the pine woods of this area.

Oren, for her own part, was not in the least bit scared by that prospect.

The Hound dealt with much worse things than bandits daily, after all. If you could not stare down storm starving northlander desperate for your boots without blinking then the likelihood that you would do anything but scream and cry against a Fragment seemed very slim.

She needed the walk anyway. There was only so long you could stare at a set of notes with nothing else to draw data from.

Access to any live fragment was a practice that was either tricky to achieve or extremely dangerous to carry out, and you stood little chance of getting anything done without a fair amount of backup. Something field agents were often too occupied with other work to provide.

And those returned dead were...only a limited amount of use. She'd dissected things, looked at samples and slides, separated blood out into its individual constituent parts, preserved parts in formaldehyde. All the things you might expect.But a fragment no longer alive was missing the vital part. The one piece the Wilde Jagd were truly concerned about.

Lately she'd found herself simply doing her best to pass time as productively as possible.

You could not afford to get complacent though.

Information was rather hard to come by on the fragments. News tended to travel slowly, so, when one was discovered you had to move quickly. And by special request Oren had gained permission to come along on the next mission. As a researcher it wasn't the typical mode of working.

You were hardly talking typical subjects either.

Achieving the permission from one of the hunters had been one of the easiest parts of the venture.

Informing field hounds of their obligation to let her along was going to be the more difficult part.

She made her way inside to the main courtyard. The primary blocks of the structure sat on each side. Research, Intelligence, Training, and the Barracks. Carved somewhere into the living rock below them were the cells, where the things they had contained now sat.

Normally her place was somewhere in the research building. Today however she turned to the east and the Barracks.

In order to ruin someone's morning.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Oren Character Portrait: Harran "Razor" Rager

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#, as written by Jag
Harren "Razor" Rager
Hunter's Case -- The Core
Barracks


Awake. Not the calm, refreshing wake of a sleeper rising from a long slumber after the body recharged and brought itself to face the day on its own terms. Not the begrudging, stubborn resistance of a sleeper dragged awake when slumber beckoned for a continued embrace. Not the startled wake of a sleeper jolted forward by a sudden sound crashing through the barrier of an otherwise pleasant slumber.

No, Rager awoke into the paralyzing embrace of an absolute and ineffable fear. The wake of one broken by a nightmare such that the sleeper's eyes break, but the rest of the body remains completely still as if restrained by whatever demons the sleep imagined from the cover of night. The wake of one for whom the mouth opened only to find the voice, the ability to scream, had been stolen and held hostage by the those same demons.

This was the way Rager awoke, the man with demons plenty enough to stay with him for the remainder of his days among those on the surface of the world still turning. Eventually, the demons released their hold, the conscious mind finally firing with synapses of waking logic that broke through the hold, the paralysis, the demons, with the simple thoughts that broke through all such nightmares. Words of comfort, supposedly.

It was all just a dream.

Rager rose to the spartan accomodations of his portion of the Barracks, feet finding the floor and the boots positioned perfectly a few inches to the left within seconds. Not quite the literally definitely of sleeping with one's boots on, but close enough. The man rose and stretched, a back pain that hadn't slept with him for many years now rising with him like a faithful companion. Or a nagging wife.

Rager dressed in the darkness and relative silence of the sleeping world. There were days he would have trainees awake for more than an hour already, going through the paces. No such luck today, no Pups to train into true, proper Hounds. No, today was a day for the field. A good day to die, the old Hound thought to himself and he placed the patch down over where a right eye had once glared at the world.

Stepping out into the light of the morning, Rager cleared his throat and spit off to the side. Maybe today would be the day the nightmares finally called Rager home. Or just another story, one to twist and relive in sleeping hours. And waking ones, too.

Speaking of bad dreams. Rager heard crunching footsteps and looked down the path to see a very familiar face. Scrunching his features together with a hard swallow of the morning, he address the early-risen face of Oren.

"Think you strayed a bit far from the cave. You do know this is where the real work is?"

The setting changes from The Core to Vinlund

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: The Red Beast

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Esk River - Vinlund - 8 Years Previous

Red was dying.

She was almost certain of that.

Whilst the cold of the river was enough that she could feel little to nothing anymore, the stripe of crimson that swirled out along the current in front of her was enough to show her she was hurt badly.

It was only the fallen tree she found herself entangled in that was keeping her above the water. She couldn't summon the strength to haul the rest of her human body, from the chest downward, out of the freezing stream. The Fragment rested her chin on her forearm, exhaling a shaky breath in a shower of mist.

Flakes of snow rested on the slicked wood around her.

She was trapped. She was hurt. Even her inner heat would only last so long.

The hounds.

This was their fault.

Her nails dug into the side of the trunk in an effort to pull herself up, renewed in some way by the twist of hatred somewhere deep in her gut.

The hounds.

The people who had been determined to lock her away in some forsaken hellhole forever for no other reason than EXISTING. People arrogant enough to feel that they had that kind of authority, that kind of power.
They'd deserved to suffer for what they did.
She was right to do it.

Not that it mattered now.
Now it was over.

A chill settled in the pit of her stomach as the thought crossed her mind.

She had spent so long shut away from everything, stewing in rage and hatred.
And upon finally, finally achieving freedom... she had wasted it all.

Never once lived out a day that wasn't dominated by a burning desire for retribution, vindication and vengeance.

With some difficulty, Red craned her neck upwards, staring at the grey sky.

If she could try again...what would she do?
What could she do?

A Fragment could never just...live their life.
Eventually what you were would always catch up with you.

With that thought, Red rested her head against the tree, and awaited the inevitable.





Vindolanda - Vinlund - Present Day

The deer hadn't been dead too long, though it had clearly not died too well. Its body was still steaming in the chill of the early morning as its hide was cut open. The neck was torn and head wrenched back, back legs twisted out as quite unnatural angles as if something huge had thrown its full weight upon it.

Not a great surprise to the person attempting to skin the animal.

The woman appeared somewhere in her thirties, squarish face framed by a mane of thick, ginger hair.
She was looking a little underdressed for the weather, lacking a coat or even long sleeves to keep the cold out.

It didn't appear to be bothering her however. The woman seemed more concerned with the fallen animal...
..and carefully slicing the scorched patches of fur and flesh from its body so as to make its death appear a mite less horribly unnatural.

All in a day's work for eight years as a Fragment in hiding. Red had gotten surprisingly good at keeping secrets.
Almost to the point that she didn't feel bitter about her mutilated body being thrown into a river like piece of refuse.

Almost.

Red gazed up at the peak to the south, Mount Koan, clouds swirling round the grey peaks.

Somewhere beyond there lay The Core, and the Hounds.

Red's features tightened momentarily, something glimmering fiercely behind her eyes. A small stripe of red slipped down her cheek from the corner of her eye.

"Mum!"

Her gaze snapped back immediately, and a hand reached up in a single deft movement to wipe the blood from her face.
Red angled her body round to look over the body of the stag and to the other end of the clearing, where a figure stood in the gap between the trees, shuffling from foot to foot.

A boy of about seven years old, wrapped in a winter coat a size or two too large for him. His hair was ginger and bloomed out in waves from under a colourful woollen hat.

Red approached the boy, towering over him at her full height.
"You aren't supposed to come out here."

The boy shuffled around more acutely, broken-off tree branch grasped in his hands.
"But..there's... I can see smoke...down in the valley. A fire."

Red frowned, before placing a hand on the child's shoulder.
"You did good telling me. Can you show me where?"

The young man nodded vigorously, a movement that caused the tassels on the hat to bound around wildly. He then turned and began to walk through the forest towards the river.

Red, the slayer of men, took one brief glance back at the shadow of the mountain, before following her son into the trees.

The setting changes from Vinlund to A Ruined World

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: The Red Beast Character Portrait: Skip

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Red and her son would soon find their path blocked by a young man.

"Hey. It's you," he said, beaming.

At first glance, nothing stood out as particularly threatening about the man, other than the fact that he appeared so swiftly and stealthily that he seemed to materialize out of the mist. In fact, he seemed distinctly unthreatening in almost every way: Youthful. Skinny. Smiling countenance. Even his yellow scarf and the vertical sweep of his unkempt dark hair seemed cheerful. His simple, close-fitting clothing didn't show any obvious pockets in which to hide any weapons. Still, a closer inspection of the unnatural, acidic chartreuse of his glowing eyes lent a rather unsettling, manic quality to the otherwise happy picture of the Fragment known as Skip.

"I remember you. People said you were gone," babbled Skip, strolling closer, his heels scuffing earth, dry leaves, and pebbles with each light, careless step--a gait quite unlike the silent one that had all but magicked him into the center of their path. "I heard some highwaymen had been getting dead around here under somewhat strange circumstances. Thought I might find any one of our mutual friends in the area, and then..." He pointed to a stand of trees to his left. Scorch marks scarred several of the trunks. "Careful. It's a good thing it's me that found you and not a hunter, you know?"

Of course, 'good' was a matter for debate. As any Fragment knew, another Fragment could be bad company as well as a Hound, especially if that Fragment had consumed others of his kind in the past...which Skip had definitely done around the time the Rock burst open.

He suddenly looked down at the boy as though noticing him for the first time. "What's the little guy for?" he asked pleasantly. Skip liked some humans, though he rarely had much use for tiny humans. He crouched forward, resting his hands on his knees. He tilted his head, addressing the child directly. "I like your hat."

The setting changes from A Ruined World to The Core

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Oren Character Portrait: Harran "Razor" Rager Character Portrait: Vera

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Vera gave the lace of her vambrace a final sharp tug, feeling the plated leather hug firm to her forearm through her long cotton sleeve before tying off a deft knot with one hand. She rolled up onto her toes to reach her satchel where it lay on the top shelf, her feet feeling similarly snug in a pair of sturdy, flexible ankle-cut boots. Her hand touched the cold metal of the door handle, and she smiled at the sting of the sun in her eyes.

Vera Tetchneri had always been a morning person. Shutting off the delicious sensory input of being alive for the sake of sleep had always felt like a pitiful waste of time. She jogged to the meeting point, making her own breeze to cool and dry her short, metal-blonde hair, which still hung slightly damp from her earlier quick douse at the water pump.

Her manner seemed more akin to heading out for a morning of leisure than the arduous work of travel and risk. It would be hard to find any trace of the sobriety that probably should have been warranted, considering the relatively high likelihood of dying on the job. But she loved the job. She lived for the field.

Which was probably why seeing a lab rat outside took her aback a bit.

Vera caught Rager's sarcastic remark, so she announced her approach by replying, in her far North accent, "Ease up. You cannot be blaming her for wanting to be where fun happens." She looked at Oren, and managed to seem to be looking down her nose a bit despite the fact that she was a solid half a foot shorter than the researcher. "Kovalenko, yes?"

She trusted an explanation was in order. She dearly hoped this wouldn't slow them down.

The setting changes from The Core to A Ruined World

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: The Red Beast Character Portrait: Uroboros Character Portrait: Skip

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Tick-tock. The clock went on and on, in the rather large manor. It's hand's were making the empty throne room almost boom, as was the silence. Ah, the silence how he longed to break it it was beginning to crush him. Sure Uroboro's had done enough socialising over the couple day's but he never really felt satisfied. Perhaps it was the need to get out and cause havoc, he's fragment blood taking control. He hadn't done such a thing for 8 long year's, too start now would be a shame. That single thought was holding him back from taking action.

It was a rather quite morning in the lord's castle, as explained. Uroboro's himself was preparing to set out for a gathering of noblemen. Human noblemen. It was like being a butterfly amongst moth's, of the same standing but one is just so much more dazzling. To say he did have some pride of his fragment flesh would be a understatement, he would be flaunting it if it didn't mean him getting decapitated by the hound's. Nonetheless, he would compliment himself in his own time. Uroboro's began to wash his signature silky white hair which had looked as if it was blessed from the heavens itself, before walking out of the room and into his chambers.

Uroboro's placed his hands on his wolf like door nob, a sort of mock to the hound before he gripped it rather tightly but gently shoving the door open. He walked over to the bells, which were enshrouded by the crimson light flashing through the curtains from the windows. The man gave it a mere tap, before servants were rushing to his aid. As if some child, they began to dress him appropriately for the occasion dolling him up as if some king.

Some time later Uroboro's had begun to set off to his destination, on horseback of course. It was the most elegant way of travelling and no one could take that thought away from him. Uroboro's had called some servants to accompany him, before they began setting off on route to Mount Koan. Along the way there he had saw something that had catch his attention rather finely, a fiery red haired woman who had seemed to be a giantess.

He stared at her intensely eyes with her for a moment, his unnatural shade of blue glistening like a hawk's before he turned his head away. If it weren't for the child accompanying her he would've mistaken her for a fragment. The boy himself had looked quite similar to the woman, though he couldn't tell much from the distance he was away. He had spotted another man seemingly greeting them a man of smaller stature, ''What a odd place to gather, i must say.'' He whispered to himself as he frowned. Uroboro's shook his head, clearing his mind. He would be at his destination soon enough.

The setting changes from A Ruined World to Vinlund

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Oren Character Portrait: Harran "Razor" Rager Character Portrait: Nadel Character Portrait: Vera

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Jall - Vinlund - Three Days Prior

The room was full of lit candles, but it somehow still seemed dim. At its center sat a wooden table, adorned with dancing candles of its own, which illuminated a map that lay spread open on the table's surface. Two individuals stood on either side of the table, both appearing to examine the map closely. One of them was a rather corpulent man, though he seemed to wear the weight well. He had a large mustache that not only seemed finely waxed and cared for, but it also must have been perfumed, for the person opposite of this man could smell the fragrance wafting over the stale air, boasting.

"Now, as you likely know by now, for you surely would not be standing here in front of me if you didn't know, we've been having some, how would you say, issues with some of our trade routes. More specifically, we've been receiving reports about attacks on the route that runs through Vindolanda here-" the man leaned forward over the map to examine it briefly before pointing to one of the numerous lines that decorated it, "and even moreso on the route that runs through the mountains a bit further to the East, here." His finger hovered over the map until it located another one of the many lines and he tapped it.

"I know I don't have to go into the details of just how important it is for these trade routes to be clear of such threat, and normally this would be a problem we could solve on our own," a blatant lie, which both parties present knew, "we're just spread a little thin right now."

The other person, a woman clad in armor and hair the color of straw, remained quiet and attentive as the man spoke, though her brow was furrowed. She held up a flat palm to the man as he finished speaking, as if to halt him from any further speaking.

"Captain, I did not think that I would need to clarify to you again that I'm a diplomat here and not some blade for hire. You must stop calling me here under false pretenses, especially when there are other Hounds you could just as easily employ in my stead."

The captain gaped at her for a moment before gathering himself and beginning to shake his head.

"The very reason I summoned you, Nadel, is because of your diplomacy. Maybe you can reason with these people, convince them to help guard the routes in exchange for coin." Another bold faced lie, another they both recognized.

"I'm sorry, captain, but no. I'm going to take my leave now, because your waste of my time has admittedly insulted me, but I will still do you a service and pass along your troubles to a Hound that's more suited to do something about it. Good day."




En Route to Vindolando - Vinlund - The Next Day

She was on horseback now, heading South due for The Core. She was on one of the more prominent trade routes that ran through Vinlund, the very same the captain had referenced the previous night. It went through Vindolando, a bordertown located just north of the foot of the mountains that separated the two provinces. The peak of these mountains was known as Mount Koan, a name she was told meant "great doubt". She examined the stark peak and supposed it was rather foreboding, so she could see how it could inspire a great amount of doubt in a person.

Neither her or her steed were any stranger to passage through the mountains, however, so she saw it fit to appropriate prepare for the task when she arrived in Vindolando.




Vindolando - Vinlund - Some Time Later

After arriving in the little bordertown, Nadel sought after what few provisions she required. When she had done so, she momentarily considered the possibility of staying overnight at the inn and setting off early in the morning, but figured it'd be wasteful of her to not travel as far as she could before actually growing tired. So her time in Vindolando came to a rather hasty end and she continued.




Camp - The Borders - That Night

Nadel found herself grateful for her armor's lack of heat dispersion that night, as the mountains grew cold once the sun declined below the horizon. She had stopped to make campground, in a place long familiar to this sort of treatment. Her movement as she flitted about to gather firewood and then subsequently worked to build it up kept her warm, so warm that she considered sleeping in it. As she ate a modest meal of cheese and bread, her consideration turned into a decision. She curled up near the fire and slept after.

She woke early and set out, surmising that she'd be back home by the next morning.




Hunter's Castle - Barracks - Present

Once Nadel arrived at Hunter's Castle, the first thing she did was return her horse to the stables, parting from her equestrian companion with a pat on its muzzle. From there it was straight to the barracks. She had decided to skip sleep that night to finish up the final leg of her journey, so its call tugged at the back of her mind as she trudged onward. The sun had only begun to rise, but Nadel knew of at least one certain individual that would be up at this hour, and he was the perfect candidate to pass the information she had received in Vinlund onto.

Considering the barracks were East, she angrily squinted against the sun's rays as they shone over the ramparts. The walk wasn't a long one compared to the journey she had just taken, and when she set down what could be considered the final path before coming upon the barracks, she was somewhat surprised to see two more people than she had expected. As she approached, all were recognized, but only one mattered to her at the moment.

Harran "Razor" Rager. A Senior Hound and a man Nadel thought more than fit enough to become a knight such as herself. She clenched a fist and held her arm against against her chest, her armor clanking appropriately as she did so. She held this in a brief salute to the others and then dropped it, immediately addressing Razor.

"Sir, may the morning greet you well. I bring word from Vinlund, some of our established trade routes suffer from bandit attack and they require assistance in the form of steel."

The setting changes from Vinlund to A Ruined World

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: The Red Beast Character Portrait: Gale Eden Character Portrait: Skip

0.00 INK

“Red?”

The boy was quiet in his appearance, slipping into view not long after Skip emerged. He stepped over a cluster of brambles and undergrowth, joining the circle of activity with the same surety as if he had been welcomed into it- which, in a way, he had. Cait Sidhe, a creature bound by whim, had been invited along on the expedition here. It would stand to say that he would be invited to see the results of the search as well.

Like his companion, the Cait, Gale, appeared harmless. His stature alone gave the impression that the boy couldn’t have hurt someone if he tried- small in both height and build. Lollipop stems and caramel wrappers peeked from the lining of his coat, and his face was soft with youth. His was a form that asked protection instead of caution. However, like Skip, his eyes were a much different story; the pupils too thin, the irises too large and off colored. They held an odd hunger.

The hints of teeth when he spoke, sharp and needle-pointed, only reinforced it.

“Is that you, Red?” Gale asked again. He had grown closer, settling himself beside Skip- out of arm’s reach from the much larger Fragment, but close enough for him to get a good look at her. The boy had to crane his neck a ways back in order to do so, however, which gave an almost comical quality to the situation. “We had thought that it was one of us, but I would have never guessed that it was you behind all of this. What a pleasant surprise.” He spoke warmly, amiably, as if speaking to an old friend. “How have you been? Well?”

As Skip went on in his chattering, Gale’s eyes abruptly slid from Red to the child, studying him curiously. Taking in the bundle of jackets, the hat, the hair tucked sloppily beneath it. Gale smiled- a smile that was all lips- and, taking a few steps forward, produced a sweet from his pocket and offered it to the boy.

“Hello,” he said. “I’m Gale. Want a butterscotch?”

View All »Arcs

Arcs are bundles of posts that you can organize on your own. They're useful for telling a story that might span long periods of time or space.

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Game Master Controls

Welcome home, Promethean. Here, you can manage your universe.

Arcs

Arcs are bundles of posts from any location, allowing you to easily capture sub-plots which might be spread out across multiple locations.

Quests

You can create Quests with various rewards, encouraging your players to engage with specific plot lines.

Add Setting » 3 Settings for your players to play in

Settings are the backdrop for the characters in your universe, giving meaning and context to their existence. By creating a number of well-written locations, you can organize your universe into areas and regions.

Navigation

While not required, locations can be organized onto a map. More information soon!

Vinlund

Vinlund by VitaminHeart

A wild, often snowy province some way north of The Core.

The Core

The Core by VitaminHeart

A rich region in the centre of the landmass, ruled over by the Lord Rodin. The seat of The Hounds.

Add Group » 0 Factions to align with

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Add Character » 12 Characters played by your community

Character Portrait: Oren
Character Portrait: Harran "Razor" Rager
Character Portrait: Nadel
Character Portrait: The Red Beast
Character Portrait: Uroboros
Character Portrait: Gale Eden
Character Portrait: Stride
Character Portrait: Vera
Character Portrait: Skip

Orphanage

By marking a character as abandoned, you can offer them to your players as pre-made character sheets.

Character Portrait: Hujing Li
0 sightings Hujing Li played by Phantom's Sword
Do you think God stays in heaven because he fears the things he created?

Collectibles

By creating Collectibles, you can reward your players with unique items that accentuate their character sheets.

Events

You can schedule events for your players to create notifications and schedule times for everyone to plan around.

The Forge

Use your INK to craft new artifacts in Wilde Jagd. Once created, Items cannot be changed, but they can be bought and sold in the marketplace.

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The Market

Buy, sell, and even craft your own items in this universe.

Market Data

Market conditions are unknown. Use caution when trading.

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View All » Add Character » 12 Characters to follow in this universe

Character Portrait: Oren
Character Portrait: Harran "Razor" Rager
Character Portrait: Nadel
Character Portrait: The Red Beast
Character Portrait: Uroboros
Character Portrait: Gale Eden
Character Portrait: Stride
Character Portrait: Vera
Character Portrait: Skip

Newest

Character Portrait: Skip
Skip

:D

Character Portrait: Vera
Vera

"I am very good at spotting the liar."

Character Portrait: Stride
Stride

"Well, fuck."

Character Portrait: Gale Eden
Gale Eden

"Falling, it was rain, but, having fallen, it was blood."

Character Portrait: Uroboros
Uroboros

''Knowledge is power.''

Character Portrait: Nadel
Nadel

A knight seeks the truth, seeks the heart. We call this the corso. The path set before us; the race we must run.

Character Portrait: Harran "Razor" Rager
Harran "Razor" Rager

Victorious warriors win first and then go to war, while defeated warriors go to war first and then seek to win.

Trending

Character Portrait: Gale Eden
Gale Eden

"Falling, it was rain, but, having fallen, it was blood."

Character Portrait: Stride
Stride

"Well, fuck."

Character Portrait: Nadel
Nadel

A knight seeks the truth, seeks the heart. We call this the corso. The path set before us; the race we must run.

Character Portrait: Skip
Skip

:D

Character Portrait: Vera
Vera

"I am very good at spotting the liar."

Character Portrait: Uroboros
Uroboros

''Knowledge is power.''

Character Portrait: Harran "Razor" Rager
Harran "Razor" Rager

Victorious warriors win first and then go to war, while defeated warriors go to war first and then seek to win.

Most Followed

Character Portrait: Stride
Stride

"Well, fuck."

Character Portrait: Gale Eden
Gale Eden

"Falling, it was rain, but, having fallen, it was blood."

Character Portrait: Harran "Razor" Rager
Harran "Razor" Rager

Victorious warriors win first and then go to war, while defeated warriors go to war first and then seek to win.

Character Portrait: Nadel
Nadel

A knight seeks the truth, seeks the heart. We call this the corso. The path set before us; the race we must run.

Character Portrait: Vera
Vera

"I am very good at spotting the liar."

Character Portrait: Skip
Skip

:D

Character Portrait: Uroboros
Uroboros

''Knowledge is power.''


View All » Places

Vinlund

Vinlund by VitaminHeart

A wild, often snowy province some way north of The Core.

The Core

The Core by VitaminHeart

A rich region in the centre of the landmass, ruled over by the Lord Rodin. The seat of The Hounds.

Vinlund

A wild, often snowy province some way north of The Core.

The Core

A rich region in the centre of the landmass, ruled over by the Lord Rodin. The seat of The Hounds.

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