Aristara The Godless lands

[Wolfsin]

~GM Post For All~

Steel clashing against itself echoed around the arena only to be silenced in the roar of the crowd as two men stared each other down. One was obviously malnourished but the look in his eyes said little for his humanity, while the other was a hefty bastard with skin the color of blood stained dirt. These were not men anymore though, No they were beasts; animals in a cage fighting to claw their way out. The lie of hope coaxed them onward to slaughter their brethren without mercy, for in a world such as this only the strongest would escape this hell. The Irony in such lies of hope was it was the loser who escaped, not the winner.... for death was surely better than what awaits the soul when it is crushed.

His mace came down swiftly, the whirl of its might causing a cacophony of powerful hums as the wind itself seemed to curl around the weapons force. It beat against the heft of a shield, and the lesser man countered with the thrust of a scimitar as he tried to free himself from the beating against his armor. Neither of them were dressed as though they were solider, rather barbarians that would sooner kill the other with a rock then learn the proper way of the sword. It was when the lesser than man landed a swift strike along the outer arm of his opponent that the crowd cheered for his unlikely victory, How true it has always been that only when they show some promise does the under dog get their just dues. If they never show themselves as killer then they are merely new blood stains on the walls of the Arena.... and gods forbid a lucky kill for their opponent being cocky or stupid..... that isn't proper for the show after all...

The larger man roared his might for the audience to acknowledge and charged his foe, swinging again and again into the shield and forcing the lesser into a corner.. Many were thinking that just maybe the foolish swordsman could win this... but that is only justified in fantasy tales. No the fight ended as we left it. There were no heroics, no heroes rising from the dust and killing the mighty giant. What remained when the dust settled was the giant, and a mangled corpse both hanging from his mace as well as sitting at his feet. The giant let out one more roar to signify his victory before he returned to chains. Such a powerful force.. and still little more than a docile creature broken by the arena. Slowly they marched him back to his tomb to await the next time he would make sport of bloodshed and kinship.

"And now, for the battle that everyone came here for. From the dark wilds of the Ancient forest, captured and broken in for your enjoyment, We release a TRUE ANIMAL upon this arena! A Lycan, in her purest form coaxed to her carnal nature will test our champion for all of his might!. Who will win, Who will die. Let us find out!"

Deep within the cage a struggle no man hoped to witness incurred. Three of the men had already been snapped like limbs, the others tried desperately to hold onto the chains the bound her. The Drug had set in, recreating the chemical balance produced to bring forth the true form of the Lycan. A monstrous wolf human creature taller than any champion to ever stand in this arena now hovered over the Mighty Champion of the arena. The real battle was just about to begin. The cage doors closed behind the two, and the chains were released as the cowards holding them scurried for the walls. The blood arena was 'hers' now.

Silver mask~

"Oh little soldiers of cruelty, treasonous masters of broken souls; you fail to realize just how foolish you are. You see upon this night the blood arena will more rightly earn its name than on any other night. The blood of the masters who seek fame through tragedy will know the taste of the sands, and may their tongue dry up so that they choke upon themselves.... if only to provide some mercy from the storm they hath brought upon themselves. Ah but alas, the little Pierrot' are dancing so gracefully now... I can't help but take some credit for being a master virtuoso in this performance."

Silver mask watched from the highest of towers upon the largest citadel. There was no need to stain the eye with the sin that was destined to stain this place tonight. "And so the very fist of the key pieces in this game have taken their first move. And as any tactician knows, the first move is the most important." A smirk hid behind his mask as the anonymous force watched his agent guide the 'Queen' to her rightful place. From here he would watch the curtain fall.

One by one the pieces found their way, The first was the largest of them. The metal giant that traveled in dwarf company. He vanished quickly within the undergrounds surely to make well on his contract. The next to arrive was the assassin. Shadows beckoned her just as the match started, surely her mark was the only thing in mind then. The next to arrive were Aurelia and her escort. if nothing else they could take place within the crowd easily enough.... surely the fight was only just about to begin and soon would be made clear in the cryptic understanding of the Seducer of Kings (Aurelia) All would be very clear soon. Others shadows entered where they had no place and one by one the actors in the play assembled. All they were missing now... was ... the Gladiator...

Silver Mask set his eyes on the warrior as he made his way towards the front gates of the Arena. Everything was about to begin.​

 

[RaccoonKing]

✿ Xanthe Liliana Selwyn ✿

@BearEnthusiast

Xanthe had paused in her travels to blink owlishly at her current mission, brows furrowing together in minor confusion behind the delicate silver mask. Aurelia had slipped into a nearby house, something that briefly sped up the 'masks' pulse, causing fingers to slip free of her cloak and attention to be fixated upon the wooden door. "Damni-..." Cut off from her soon to be pessimistic rambling, Xanthe had simply just blinked owlishly from behind the mask when she reappeared, donned in a travelers cloak this time. In result, she was simply stunned for a second before she shook her head free of her previous state. "Ah...Come on..."

Spinning back around she continued to head towards the arena, her pace quick but enough to remain close to Aurelia herself. The two approached the arena and so she slipped her hands behind her back, entwined with one another as she cocked her head. Xanthe had paused Aurelia once in their route when she feared a soldier was close but that was it. She had become strangely quiet as well as they approached the building itself, her lips pursed into a thin line, eyes narrowed.

"We are here..."

Xanthe had stopped by this point to turn to look at Auriela briefly, her expression still slightly sour and considerably more focused. After a few seconds of distracting thoughts, mostly negative in nature, she began to head forwards as she tucked her arms closer to her in and act that folded them over her abdomen as she headed straight for the crowd. When they reached the edge and began to enter the arena she shifted back so she stood at the woman's side, her arms reached up to tug down at the hood to further hide the mask as well. It was an noticeable accessory otherwise.

She looked around with her lips still pursed, an obvious sign of her discomfort or irritation as they got further. The loud voice of the announcer caused a dull ache in her ears as he easily attracted a portion of her attention, the rest solely on Aurelia. Finding a good place to stop she had found herself grasping a small portion of Aurelia's cloak as she tugged on it to gain her attention, leading her over to the spot she was in. A gray coloured gaze slid over towards the arena floor as she listened in, brows furrowing. "A lycan huh..." Was her mumbled whisper to herself, no emotion directly obvious through the dulled tone of her voice, gaze not straying form the arena floor.

​

 

[DoomyCakez]

LOCATION
"This is a Godless place..."
Ω Harbarut || Area Bloodworks || Arena Fighting Grounds Ω

FORM/OUTFIT
"I must escape. It is kill or be killed here."
Ω Lycan Form Ω

MENTIONS
"Kill them all..."
Ω NPC Guards Ω
Ω Rombus Stone, Champion of the Arena Ω

INTERATION
"I will not die in this Hellhole..."
Ω NPC Guards Ω
Ω Rombus Stone, Champion of the Arena Ω

*Something nice to set the mood..

Spoiler

The roars of the arena. That one noise was exploding in Errols skull in this hypersensitive mode. She could hear it all, the individual screams and hoots of drunken mortals, more thirsty for blood than a food deprived lion; however, there was little she could say to it. She could not actually speak for that matter, said for snarls and bellows of her own as she was dragged across blood soaked hay and dirt. Where did these mortals believe they were taking her? More over, did they actually believe that they were going to succeed in bringing her into what she truly believe were the pits of hell itself? She could fight with all of her might to resist; however, the mortals were outsmarting her in that department as well. She could not think clearly... could not see clearly in this drug induced state of hypersensitivity. She could hardly focus on anything, the faces of her captors blurring together in a mixture of red and soggy flesh, like truer monsters than Errol could have possibly ever witnessed. There was little fear on her part, more so panic, that flight response wishing to kick in now that she knew that there was little fighting whatever they were wishing her to do. She dug those massive heels into the ground, fur black as midnight becoming soiled by that filth undernearth her strong toes. She stopped fast, but only felt the sharp point of a spear, stabbing her directly in her calf. It was a bellow of pain she released, massive head whipping around, jaws falling open and snapping shut on whatever was in her vacinity.

"GAH!"

It was only wood that splintered, the spear snapping in half at the might of her jaws; however, it was quickly replaced with another, Errol being forced forward, protesting under the screams in incoherent grunts of working men. She was forced forward, silver stare flicking upward from underneath a prominent brow of black hair, ears folded back, tail ridgen, all in show case of her pure distain for such a humiliation. Her chains were heavy, massive form weighed down by the rusted metal that bound her; however, she was only dragged further, the men staying out of her immediate reach as she was held back by the chains that had bound her. How disgusting, Errol's snapping jaw gnawing at the rusted metal, massive paws and bear like claws jerking and swiping at anyone coming too close to her; however, they only continued their slow march towards their destination, the howls of the arena growing louder and louder around her, drowning out the panicked pounding of her own heart.

She could only snarl, only bark and growl in such a forced state, mind frazzled by the effects of that debilitating drug. She had her senses, of course; however, in this hyperfocused state, she could hardly keep them in check, body jerking and fighting wildly with her captors as the two massive doors before her opened up, bathing her in direct light. Sunlight.... How long had it been since she had actually seen the sun? Too long, for her arms came up, pale gaze blinded by the harsh light as her sensitive ears were once again bombarded with the high pitched roars of crude human tongue. She snarled, body rolling as she smashed herself against the wall, crushing one of the men that had held her left side and dragging the guards to her right with her. The chains were only tightened, Errol choking as she was forced back in line and stabbed only further with the sharp tips of spears and swords. How strong she was, massive muscles bulging under charcoal midnight fur. Her scars were more prominent here, bits of pink flesh visible under such a thick coat of fur; creating a intricut pattern of her strength...of her will to survive and of her journey.

"And now, for the battle that everyone came here for. From the dark wilds of the Ancient forest, captured and broken in for your enjoyment, We release a TRUE ANIMAL upon this arena! A Lycan, in her purest form coaxed to her carnal nature will test our champion for all of his might!. Who will win, Who will die. Let us find out!"

An animal? How dare this mortal refer to her as such a thing. Errol bellowed in rage, tuning into the female screams coming from the crowds. Did they fear her?... They should, for Errol would easily snap every last one of them between her paws, Lycan form or not. She was boiling, eyes blood shot from both rage and the affects of the drug upon her mental psyche. She was spasming, body moving and fighting against the stabs and jabs of the guards around her. The chains were tightening as she was brought fully into the light, the fresh scent of mortal blood filling her nostrils and only sending her further into the panic induced frenzy. This was a place of death... a place of sorrow and somewhere she wanted nothing to do with. She was huffing, scarred muzzle falling open, bloody drool oozing down to the beige sand beneath her. She could hardly breathe, body twisting sharply the snap at one of those annoying spears. There were not even breaking her skin, yet the painful jab still send that jolt of displeasure up her spine. She immediately reared up, form twisting as powerful jaws snapped down on the closest guards head.

Blood.... The taste of mortal blood was never something enjoyable for her or her people. It was like bile, bitter to the taste and overly salty. It made her sick to her stomach, but the satisfaction of that crunch was enough for her to get a little something back, body twisting back and dragging that limp corpse with her, head rolling before she released and sent the body away as nothing more than a pile of flesh and bone.

"HOLD HER!"

The chains tightened, gagging Errol as she was forced down upon all fours. Oh yes, there was nowhere to go now, the arena falling silent as the lycan's gaze flicked upward, only greeted by the visage of a blood soaked warrior across this tiny battle field. He was in chains as well, his skin the color of bronzed dirt...dried blood glimmmering with the decor of sweat and fresh blood. Errol blinked, taking in this image of a man, far larger than any mortal she had come across, yet he was still dwarfed by Errol's massive stature. How...powerful he looked though, face hidden behind a sand colored mask, the bottom of his face covered by the removed jaw of a fellow mortal. A Cannibal? A headhunter? Errol did not know, but she could smell death upon him. He bathed in it. She watched how those muscles bulged with the rise and fall of his bare chest. He wore no armor, said for something to cover his nether regions. Errol's attention was immediately pulled to the two matching battle axes in his hands, strong fingers curling around the dark hilt, stained brown from the blood of his many fallen rivals. Errol took it all in, pale gaze only able to focus on one piece at a time, for everything was blurring at the edges... Everything was overly focused... She could not think straight...

And suddenly, she was released. She felt the weight leave her as air rushed into her lungs, arms slipping forward and causing the massive creature to stumble forward with a few large thuds. Her rival did not even move, said his hands tightening upon his axes as guards moved to remove his smaller shackles. Errol's were left, the heavy chains dragging with her, weighing her down to give the man some sort of advantage. Errol did not even pay any mind to it, head whipping around as she immediately set herself to attack the closest guard in sight. They scrambled for the walls, Errol's form springing into action, massive muscles tightening and releasing as she stayed to all fours, chasing down these men to the walls and reaching up to drag one of the guards back down to the bloodied sand. Errol found herself greeted with an arrow to her shoulder, though it did little to stop her as her claws dug into the flesh and cloth of the mortal guard. She dragged him down, staining the walls in red as she ripped him from the wall to the ground beneath her, silencing his screams with the snap of her jaws, letting those bones crunch underneath her flashing teeth.

I will kill them all... I'll make them all pay... I'll-

"Grmph!"

She was dragged. She felt the tightening of her chains around her neck. It was a much more powerful grasp than what she had been greeted with before, eyes widening as she was suddenly yanked back from that limp corpse. Who dared to hold her now!? Errol's claws dug into the sand, head snarling and snapping before her blood shot gaze turned back, only to take in the visage of the masked warrior, chain in hand as he dragged her backward.

"Pathetic creature..."

His voice was deep, a gruff growl more than anything else, quickly becoming drowned out by the roars of cheers of the crowd in his benefit. Errol was stiff, body moving with her heavy breathing before she turned to relieve the tightness upon her throat. These chains... Where this could have been an unfair fight, things were now becoming even.

Unhand me, you filth!

Errol could only snarl, eyes focusing upon this massive mortal as he released her chains. So, had it only been done to gain her attention? Errol did not know, but her display seemed to do little to rattle this human's nerves. His gaze did not seem to leave her though, those black eyes like that of the dead. A broken creature lost to the arena... Errol was nearly mezmerized by it, watching those large hands curl around the handles of those massive battle axes. Did he really seek to fight her? Did he actually seek to attack her in this place? A Lycan? Errol was not stupid though... this was no mere mortal... the top pick of the crop. He was man at its most primal... at its most savage...and Errol was to battle it out with him? There was still no fairness in this, Errol's form swaying with the exhaustion and turmoil of her own skull as her mind seemed to go into tunnel vision. He was the only one around. She would take her revenge out upon him, as she had done with the guards...and any other mortal that dared to cross her path. She would stain his blood upon this sand and he would be forgotten as one of the many bodies and warriors that had fallen prey to his hand.

He did not seem to move though, massive form statuesque before he shifted, pointing one of those massive weapons in her direction.

"I am Rombus Stone, and this is my arena. We are in my domain here, and you are nothing more than another rival. You shall fall prey to my might and I shall wear your skin a my trophy."

Errol's massive head shook as she reared up, dragging those chains behind her as she took a step forward towards her opponent, who only brought one of those axes back, pink tongue slowly running over the blade, spilling his own blood upon the sharp edge. "My axes have never tasted the blood of a Lycan before... They shall gorge themselves upon yours, creature..."

Errol was not going to die here.... Errol was not going allow herself to fall prey to a psychotic creature such as this. She was not going to miss out on the ever loving grace of the moon, to die in the harsh sunlight of a blood soaked arena. There was no honor... no happiness...no slavation, and Errol was not one to allow herself to fall prey to this beast of man. This monster of nothingness.

"Grrr.....Tsssss..."

Errol snarled, body tensing slowly, muscle retracting as massive claws dug into the bloodied soil. Rombus prepared himself as well, massive form hunching forward, only part of his insane smirk visible from behind that large mask, white bone glistening in the sunlight. "Come to me beast... " It was a silent whisper, Errol barely catching it in her madness. It was like a rubberband, body snapping into action as she launched forward, massive paws shooting up dust and dirt, jaws open wide as she released a bellow of war. Rombus did the same, his blood curtling call echoing through the arena as he sprung, running directly to greet the massive creature with a cackle of madness, the haze of war clear in his dark gaze.

At the last moment Errol rolled up, paw swinging to knock the mortal off his feet; however, he rolled directly to the left, only feeling the sting of the claw tips upon his shoulder before he rammed himself fully into Errol's massive chest. She felt her breath leaving her, claws digging into the earth to keep herself from being knocked over; however, the warrior was already moving out of the way, pushing Errol back and bearing the brunt of her weight with little to no complaint before stepping back out of reach. Errol swung again in her frenzy, jaws snapping before she lunged again. Rombus was ready, laughter heavy as the hilt of his axe connected with the side of her jaw. She felt her head turning with the blow, body stumbling only a step away as she fell to all fours, shaking her head to relieve the momentary dizziness of her form, yet Rombus was upon her, voice cutting over the roars of the crowd. "What is wrong creature!?"

He moved to her, yet Errol was already rearing up again, body twisting as her jaws snapped down around the hilt of one of those axes. Rombus was actually mildly surprised by that speed, simply releasing the weapon instead and bringing his fist up, striking Errol directly in the side of her neck. She brought her arm up as well, claws digging into the thick flesh of his chest and ripping it open. He only grunted, knee coming up and striking the Lycan in the chin, forcing Errol's head back and sending the axe flying. She stumbled back, snarling as large hands extended to catch the incoming attack of the warrior; however, he dodged under it, scooping up her chains and ducking under her legs. Errol was turning, pursuing the mortal in her madness, yet he had tangled her, tugging those chains with him and sending Errol down to the ground in a pile of dust and fur.

He's fast.

That thought crossed her mind, but she had little time to dwell on it as Rombus attacked again, Errol too slow to avoid the blow to the back of her shoulder. It had been a small weapon, Errol yelping as the sharp blade dug into her flesh, body bending at the weight of the human upon her back. She bucked, rearing up to reach behind and reach the mortal. She caught him with her claws, hearing the male's grunt as she threw him off and down to the ground under her. She was immediately upon him, jaws opening to snap down upon his head, but she was only greeted by the taste steel as Rombus used her chains as a shield, forcing them back in a straight line, past her teeth to the back of her mouth. She snapped down, gagging one the cold metal as her body moved instantly; however, his arms were immediately around her neck, Errol feeling his hot breath and the scrape of bone against her cheek. She reacted immediately, biting down upon the mortals shoulder and feeling the crunch of the bone under mouth. He did not even scream, arms only wrapping those chains tighter around her head and forcing her to dislodge from his flesh. She rose up, Rombus coming with her as she jerked her head. How fast he could hold, Errol's arms coming up, claws digging into him before she yanked forward. He did not come, her claws instead goring down his back and spraying blood against the biege sands.

She heard that gasp of pain from him; however, it did nothing to stop his efforts, his muscles working as Errol bucked and fought. He pulled himself back around onto her back, reeling back and yanking those chains with him, forcing her mouth open and nearly breaking her jaw in the process. Errol let herself come back, hearing the whiz of his axe. She only twisted her head, feeling the sharp blade bury itself into her shoulder. Lucky her skin was tough, halting the weapon before it hit anywhere too vital; however, the pain sent her into a frenzy, body spasming in its protest, head rolling and shaking with so much force that it sent Rombus flying away; however, he only rolled, ripping that dagger from Errol's back in the process and landing a few feet away, already back in crouching position and readying for the next attack..

Errol was struggling, roaring in rage as she freed her mouth from the chains that bound her, only letting them fall uselessly around her. Her head turned, biting into the battle axe's hilt and snapping it, breaking the weapon before pulling it from herself and letting it fall to the ground in a broken pile.

The crowd was going wild, roaring with cheer for their mortal madman, who seemed to only find himself fuelled by such savagery.

"KILL IT!"
"OFF WITH ITS HEAD!"
"MAKE IT BLEED!"

Errol could hear it all, picking out the individual voices around; however, everything sounded as though she was in a tunnel, maddened stare only taking in the visage of the bleeding Rombus Stone. Did he even feel his pain? Errol did not know, but she was feeling hers, lips rolling back to snarl at the mortal man with even more distain than before. Rombus, on the other hand, only chuckled underneath his mask, black eyes filling with an odd glint... and odd excitement that Errol could only pinpoint.... The excitement of battle... of blood....

He's a monster...

Rombus's attention was pulled to the left, Errol only following that dark gaze to find him staring at his remaining axe. Did he plan to run towards it? Her question was quickly answered, for Rombus's large form took off towards it, Errol only following suit. He was pacing with her though. This mortal... how fast he was as he rushed, both making it to the axe in a matter of bounds, but it had only been a distraction, for as Errol turned to greet the warrior, he was down, sliding between her legs to sweep up the axe, form twisting to bury it into her side. Errol roared, twisting to grab at Rombus. He was moving quickly though, taking the blow to his left shoulder and neck and pushing away from Errol, burying his axe into her rib.

"GRAAAAAAA!"

She threw him away, side swiping him full force with her paw and knocking him directly in the side of the head. She saw that spray of blood, splashing against her dark fur as she stumbled away herself. She limped, falling to all fours, ears rolled back and tail curled, moving away from the warrior and circling him, as though readying herself for the next attack. Rombus was collecting himself, moving up to one knee as he spat blood onto the ground beneath him. His remaining axe was still clutched tightly in his hand, dark eyes flicking up from a ripped mask, part of the bone having fallen away from the force of Errol's strike. He only smiled though, a smile more crooked than possibly the crookedness of his own heart... darker than the blackness of his twisted soul. Errol took it in, bloody lip rolling back in a snarl, a sneer of distain and hatred for this monster before her.

"You're stronger than I though, creature..."

He chuckled, but there was pain in that laugh, Errol taking in that bone jutting from his shoulder, the blood oozing down his arm and dripping from his fingers. Errol had not been left off easily either, pain raking her form as blood matted her dark fur. They were both in the same boat, bodies moving in one, circling each other in a slow dance of death. There could only be one victor here, in this hellhole so based on the danger of false safety. The King upon his throne... the champion of the arena....and a beast. The full showdown between man and monster, but were the lines not blurred by now? Both human and beast were becoming one here, one so lost in his madness that he was closer to monster than human. One forced into the light of humanity while still holding onto the safety of her wolf heritage. They were both hybrids here... Both creatures of power and prestiege... And now they were understanding that.

"You are a powerful creature, Lycan..."

And so are you, mortal...

They could only circle eachother now, sizing up eachother's wounds... Their strengths as though they were now gazing upon eachother in a new light. Errol's opinions had not changed, for the madness in his eyes were unmistakable. This mortal had been broken years ago by this hell... There was no redemption for him...no turning back, for the only way of escape was death. Would she become the same if she won this? Would she be left to wallow in this hell if she were to live and this Rombus Stone die?... Would he be free and she forever trapped?.... So what really was better here?...

"Are you ready, Lycan?..."

Errol snarled, black lips once again rolling back to display the gleam of her white teeth. Rombus only twirled his bloodied axe, his dagger in his other hand. How bloody he was...was it her own or his? Errol did not know, but she hardly felt her own pain now with this adrenaline, the screams of the audience slowly becoming nothing more than distant muffles, drowned out by the pounding of her heart, the heavy thud of her paws.... Rombus's feet...against the sand. They were in unison... gazes unbreaking as they took in the darkness... the tensing and slow breathing....

Before lunging once more... For the battle had just begun....

​

 

[Bears]

Did Aurelia ever mention that she absolutely despised Habarut? Following the Mask in silence, Aurelia look on disapprovingly at the muck and trash lining the streets, either in the form of those who lived here or literal garbage. With each step her glare narrowed further and the corners of her lips dropped. Whoever this man she was tasked with capturing, she wondered how he was remotely important enough for the Masks to employ her temporarily. She wondered if a kiss would be enough to control him, but only time would tell.

When they finally came to the arena Aurelia was surprised to see a building that actually looked relatively impressive. The bloodthirsty roars rumbled from inside and it seemed like the ground shook underneath their feet. Upon entering, Aurelia's immense hatred for the city resumed. Peasants, criminals, and filth were the lot of them. Pushing through the crowds of drunkards screaming for gore, she held in a gag. Whether it was the general lack of hygiene among just about every one of the arena goers or the sounds of wet blood that seeming held the air, she wasn't sure. Regardless she stuck close to the feminine Mask, making sure not to get lost in the ocean of peasants.

But the Mask stopped and so did she. Her eyes moved from where the Mask held her cloak to the arena floor itself. The Scholars once captured a Lycan, she remembered. At the time she was too young to be allowed to be near it but she was a crafty little child. Aurelia snuck into the prisons and found the cell which they kept it captive. From the dark, damp hallways she watched with a child's curiosity at the ferocious creature through the bars. Aurelia remembered her wanting to free the unfortunate creature but didn't want to risk the wrath of her elders. She visited it often, but one day it simply disappeared and she was left guessing to this day what was the creatures's fate.

Transfixed, she pressed forward, leaving the Mask behind as she pushed her way through the crowd so she could see the beast closer. Another Lycan captured once more and now used for the entertainment of the filth of this city. She grimaced. Were Aurelia to have it her way, she would see the beast exact revenge on each and every single person who forced her into her position.

The battle begun and Aurelia watched, her heart beating in coincidence with the stomping and shouting of the peasants around her. She was too focused on watching the disgustingly brutal combat between the two titan-like figures to notice the knights who had managed to track her and the Mask enter the crowds.

The strong grip of a metal glove around her wrist brought Aurelia back to her senses however and the witch turned to see one of the men she saw enter the tavern in search of her. Her eyes widened for just a moment before in a quick reaction she brought up her other hand and in a loud and distinct explosion of fire, she set the knight's face and body aflame. The shouts for bloodshed from the villagers soon turned to horror as they watched the man fall to the ground, writhing in pain as his armor and body melted into one another. Aurelia watched him for but a moment before looking up to see if she could find the cloaked Mask she wandered away from somewhere in the crowd, but all she saw was more knights heading towards the gurgling screams of their brother.

"This...is bad." Aurelia muttered her eyes fixating into a focused glare. From over her shoulder she heard the sounds of combat resuming between the Lycan and the warrior, but she had no time to watch. Instead she began to violently shove her way through the crowd. She cast aside her cloak knowing it would only slow her down. The knights certainly knew where she was now and it didn't matter how noticeable she was.

The only thing that mattered to her was surviving.

 

[RaccoonKing]

✿ Xanthe Liliana Selwyn ✿

@BearEnthusiast

Xanthe watched with a steeled but disappointed gaze at the amusement seen in the spectators faces, a trembling breath passing through her lips behind the mask as she let her gaze fall towards the Lycan itself. Her head was lowered to hide the full mask from view but she still watched. Disgusting. Xanthe took in a deep breath to calm the irritation, the anger and dread that threatened to reveal more about her than should be seen. 'People are so cruel...so bloodthirsty...' was her dulled thoughts as she took a slight shuffle back, arms wrapped tighter around herself. 'To have taken this creature, drug it and have it risk its life for mere sport...' Xanthe soon enough shook her head, closing her eyes briefly before her expression steeled behind the white mask. 'Not the time to contemplate these people...'. With the mental dismissal of her disgust, Xanthe turned to look where Aurelia was...

She was gone.

She took in a sharp breath of air as eyes widened drastically. Hands trembled as she spun around and began to move back to try find something to give her height, hurried steps only pausing when the glimmer of silver metal reflected the light, catching her eye and causing her to twist around to see its origin. Soldiers. Her pulse sped up for a second before she internally berated herself. Panic would do nothing. With a calmer head she hurried over to the sides of the building, finding a few barrels, she jumped up upon them with a practiced ease, calming her posture from one of caution to appear as a watcher of the fight just gaining a better view. Her eyes instantly went to scanning the crowds for movement, fast movement, assuming that she had run from them considering she vanished.

The crackle and sparks of fire in the air caused her to curse quietly as a soldier fell without even a single soul in the bloodshed enticed crowd noticing. "The hell..." She hissed, having spotted Aurelia in her escape. "Aurelia still needs to capture him..." She mumbled faintly as she pulled back her cloak slightly reaching around to a pouch that hung from her waist to drag out a couple vials. Xanthe switched them around in her palm before shoving the others back into the pouch, already pushing herself off and into the crowd. Her limbs slipped back within the cloak as she spun herself through the crowd, each time having to duck of twist out the way of flying limbs or ducking under the groups in the mass. She pulled free a knife from her waist then, just as she used her thumb to push the intricate lid free, to let the clear but slightly green tinted liquid drip onto the blade.

Once enough was spilled free of the non-lethal poison, Xanthe shoved the vial back into the confines of her pouch, then turning her direction back to her pathway completely. Her divided attention had made her unaware that she had caught up to one of the soldiers who clumsily made his way through the crowd, shoving and pushing his way through. Blinking away her momentary surprise she slipped closer, lips pursed, as she stalked with long strides till she stood directly behind him. Her hidden features displayed remorse, yet Xanthe didn't hesitate when she moved one foot forward and pressing down her weight to push and bolt forwards. His armor gave little area of skin for her to cut, which was a needed at the moment, so she had gotten herself in front of the knight with the act of hurrying before shifting her weight to spin herself on the spot. Surprise reflected on his features as she found herself throwing out her arm in an arc so that the poison laced knife caused a minor scratch to paint his cheek.

"What the-!?" The knight had already brushed off his shock and moved to draw his weapon but Xanthe had moved as well. Her knife out of view now she let herself fall before she swept out her leg, which she luckily wore her armor clad boots as she hit his left ankle. The shock and the sudden loss of balance caused him to collapse in a heap with a loud groan. Xanthe pulled herself up to stand and fixed her cloak in a hurry. "So sorry...It'll wear off soon. Promise." She whispered, her head lowered still to hide her mask as much as possible. Frowning faintly she had already turned and bolted back off into the crowd, ignoring the Knight's shout as she weaved herself through people and away from him. "Hey! Get back here-!"

Looking back she noticed that two knights had gone back to check on their comrade who by now was feeling the effect of the poison. Luckily it only caused nausea, dizziness and causing the victim to fall unconscious. With one knight out of the way and another two more being a possibility, Xanthe continued after Aurelia, only ducking to grasp her cloak off the floor. Just about able to see Aurelia and the in chase knights in front, Xanthe hissed below her breath before speeding up. It took a while due to the hype of the crowd but she came out to the left of Aurelia, grabbing at her lower arm in a tight grip before pulling her along with her. "This time...Lets stay together regardless, okay?" She mumbled, once again pushing back into the crowds, heading towards a door she noticed before.

Using her grip on Aurelia she had pulled the woman to lower herself as they moved. As they stumbled to the door, just having ducked under an presumably drunk duo's linked arms, Xanthe threw open the door to reveal some steps. Without as little as a word, Xanthe pulled them both inside and down the steps to what seemed like an equipment room. Crates were filled to the brim with cheaply made weapons and armor, the walls lined with more detailed and well crafted ones. The stone walls were lined with burning torches which cast an ominous hue over the weaponry inside and across the white of her mask.

Turning to face Aurelia she tilted her head, holding her cloak over towards her to take. "Are you okay? Did any of them get to you..." There was a slight pause as she continued, tone quiet. "Except the one that you...you know....set on fire?" It wasn't something she agreed with but she understood the desire to survive. She hated that people had to feel that to survive they had to harm others, to run and hide. "We need to hurry and sort out your target so we can get away from this arena..." Xanthe looked around the room for a few moments before gesturing to some of the loaded weapon stores nearer the stairs. "They probably will come down here soon...I say we hide and let them come down here. Once they are further in we head back up and lock this door then complete the task and get out of here....Or we can face them down here where no one outside will get hurt in the process." Running it through her head she studied the other carefully. "Any idea how many exactly are left? I know I left three behind when I took one down and you took one down..."



​

 

[Wolfsin]

The thrill of the arena echoed through the blood-works. Tirian passed other gladiators preparing for what could easily be their last fight, and he pitied them. Stern eyes looked onward into the blackness of the under-hall, and his body shook with each stomp made by the creature above fighting for survival. Oh yes... Tirian knew all too well what was going on up there. A championship match meant that death, and glory was on the line. The sad truth was that a Champion never stopped defending their title until they were dead, that was the truth that all gladiators had to know; in order to do what they did. Fight, fight, Fight until you die.

"Ol Rombus is a mighty one, but I doubt even he can stand up to the power of that Lycan bitch. I hear she took out three of the big fuckers all er own when they tried restraining 'er"

Tirian caught the tail end of a conversation between men tending to the cells. Of course they could joke about it, but for anyone who entered that damn arena, there was no joke. It was kill or be killed, the rawest of human natures... and it was to be fleshed out of children. Despite the way his sword arm trembled in passing of the two he held his composure. There was only one man that needed to die here. Whoever came with him would fall of their own volition. This day Tirian would dishonor the sands and the proud warrior who fought upon them. But in this he would break the chains that bound them to such false ideals. From there they would have to choose.

The end of the hall came sooner than Tirian expected. There were two men there, in what appeared to be tattered chain shirts. Guards obviously.

"Let me pass and you will not suffer this day." Tirian stated coldly and did his utmost to pass through the two. A spear crossed in front of him blacking his path as the guard turned to face him. "Who the hell are you. Wait your turn.. sla..." Swift and fierce Tirian tore his dagger through the mans flesh and turned to the other slashing for his throat in the next second. The guardsmen's blade came up just in time to deflect the sword and he returned the strike with his own vigilance. Tirian stepped back and parried the attack to the side before his clutched a full head of hair and slammed the guardsmen's face into his armored knee. The crunching of bones echoed like a song and vibrated through Tirian's body as the blood-lust of a war god filled him.

The guard screamed out in pain and doubled back holding what was left of his nose. He looked up at his murderer and raised his hand as if to beg for mercy, before a steel boot crushed the mans head into the wall. Tirian dug his blade deep into the mans heart and savored the resistence he felt in pushing the blade deeper and deeper into a corpse. A wicked grin placed his features and with the final thud of the dead man hitting the sands, Tirian reached for the light, just as he'd done so many times before.

"Get the bitch! Witch!, Witch!"

Tirian perked up as a new sound merged its way into the cheer of the crowd. Something was happening. A witch? There was no time to waste... This witch would NOT steal his revenge from him!

No more hesitation! Tirian with a single hand pulled the chain that lifted the gate, and for a moment the crowd stopped. No doubt they expected a spectacle, perhaps this was a triple threat battle? Perhaps the champion would have to overcome two lycans? They could never have guessed. Tirian walked out into the light and stared between the two bloodthirsty warriors. If it were his choice they would not fight, but that was yet to be seen. "Stay yourself warriors, I do not come here to shed blood in this arena." Tirian's voice rung out and from his back he withdrew his spear as he glared into the crowd. Tirian began to speak only to be cut off.

"You come to my arena, and yet you do not seek bloodshed? A fool you are warrior. You will not disrupt this battle here. I will not allow it."

Tirian turned his attention to the champion of Haribut and glared. His glare could have said what he was thinking but An old champion of nothing spared words for wisdom to a champion who thought he had everything. "Fight her, Do as you wish if it is your wish, but do it of your own will!" The last words were little more than a battle cry as he returned his attention to the crowd. "I am Tirian Bladefell. I was too a slave, I was a champion, a gladiator of sport in the western lands!" By this point there were whispers, and save for those still chasing after witches and ghosts, the crowd's eyes rest on him. "I was forced to slay my kin. I lived as a rat and I broke the chains the masters gave me." Tirian raised his spear mid of his body and looked to the weapon before his dark and tortured eyes glared up at the sky. He could have cursed god in a thousand languages and everyone would have understood each and every one of them. Yet the mans eyes fell again and this time they stayed, His arm reared back and with the force of a bolt of lightning the spear Tirian wielded so proudly flew into the air as if it could pierce the heavens. And in unison he made his call.

"And I am here to do it again!"

Tirian closed his eyes knowing his aim was true. Now he await the song of torn flesh, of the dying heart. He opened his eyes in hopes of seeing a beautiful corpse impaled to his throne of slaves. There was none.

Tirian grit his teeth as he drew his sword and noticed soldiers crawling into the arena. Where the master of this arena had once stood, now a beacon of light remained. His shield was marked by the holy order and his eyes were stoic as they rest upon the vision of a criminal. The Paladin Lord, of the Order. The man that Tirian had seen at the bar, now watched him from above, and protected the master of this arena. "You have no business here paladin! You should have stayed your course and hunted your vixen!" Tirians rage could be heard in every word. A slit formed in his dark eyes as he roared out to the heavens and all above!

"YOU WILL NOT STEAL MY VENGEANCE!!!"

The first of soldiers appeared swiftly thrust a spear towards Tirian. A fools act to arm the man with his greatest tool of war. Tirian turned and with the strength no mortal man should wield he tore the throat from his assailant. Tirian became a vicious whirlwind of death as he flung his sword around and flung the next warrior into the air only to kill him before he could fall. The next was impaled upon their own weapon before Tirian flung his sword into an archer in the stands. Another bellowing roar erupted and Tirian's eyes glowed with a fire only known in the hellish eyes of Dragons. His flesh became scaled, or what could be seen of it, the scales were the color of flesh.. And it was not a question.... of the three things that mattered in this arena... who was the most human?

The soldiers came and fell, Bolts from weak archers bounced off of his hardened flesh. Tirian now waded through blood and death to kill the master of this arena.. and the Paladin that guarded him.

 

[Azzy]

The boisterous sounds of the arena grew louder as the shadow neared, thoughts of the man whom had addressed her before flitting from her mind quicker than they had come. The shouts, cheers, and pained cries indicated that a battle had already begun, though the chants of the Champion Gladiators name was not yet part of the noise. Perhaps she had not failed just yet. A set of unorthodox hues glanced skyward, the glowing red of her left iris flaring as it set upon the moon. Then, she was gone. The hands of darkness clung to her being, pulling her into the shadows greedily. The ethereal whispers licking at her ears so common that it was almost unnoticeable. Whilst traveling through the darkness, her footfalls had no sound, and wisps of black, smoky fingers reached for her ankles, just failing to keep their grasp as she moved with a brisk stride. She followed the echoed voices of Gladiators speaking of their next opponents, bragging of the stakes they would claim. Fools.

She stepped out of the shadows just as quickly as she stepped in, a single click of a step ringing on deaf ears. These men, men who sat directly before her, ignorant of the spider who'd now began to weave her web. She weaved in, and out of the shadows, observing faces, listening to words. She heard tales of a she-wolf. Ah, and so the excited shouts were explained. If these men were lucky...they'd survive the night. If they were not, at least the creature above would leave with a full stomach. A lithe form quietly observed the faces beneath the arena, but came across none who could be he whom she sought. Though, her mismatched gaze did catch one familiar face. Ah, and so the spear wielding fool had also come....perhaps she did not lose him as quickly as she thought. The shadow followed his movements, hidden in the darkness of the dimly lit corridor. As they neared the gate, the grunts, and growls of a ferocious battle grew nearer.

She had dipped down into the shadows once more, slithering along in the spear wielder's own until he came to a stop. She listened to words exchanged, and then the battle had begun. Her lithe form rose from Tirian's shadow, the smokey black wisps of the darkness seeping from her form. Face hidden, only a single, glowing red eye could be seen from beneath her hood. She did not face the Paladin, or the slave master. Her sights were set on the Champion.

"You...are Rombus?"

Would he hear her emotionless question? Would he hear the shadow's voices which mingled with her own over the ruckus that the spear weilding fool had begun? Only vaguely did she catch sight of the bloodied lycan. The creature must have been confused by the two bodied she was not expecting.

"You...are already battered and bruised." a shame. "A pathetic display."

As she speaks, the smokey wisps around her seem to dissipate, a hand raising to finally push back the hood that had been hiding her face since she first arrived. A cold gaze was still on the Champion, her glowing red eyes intently observing the man as the hand that lowered her hood now ran through the wine colored tresses of her medium length hair. Unfastening the clasp that held her cloak around her, the garb fell to the ground in a pool of black feathers around her feet.

"The shadows beckon, Rombus. I will help you heed their call."​

 

[Bears]

Were Aurelia's reactions quick enough, she would've blasted the Mask like she did the knight before but luckily enough she realized in time who had grabbed her arm was not another one of those damned Paladin's grunts. The Mask's words about sticking together were mildly insulting, they made her feel like some child who did not know better. Not to say she directly disagreed with the Mask, for now Aurelia decided she wouldn't leave her side until they were out of this filthy hellhole.

Silently they descended into a hall dedicated to whatever low-grade equipment this arena gave to it's fodder. The Mask offered back her cloak, but Aurelia still figured it didn't matter how discreet she looked. Things were going to hell, it was just up to them to make the best of it. Without accepting the cloak she turned away whilst listening to the Mask present them their current options. The witch bit her lip in thought, when suddenly her eyes landed on a vase in the back corner.

"There's too many for us to handle down here, we will be swarmed." She replied seriously without turning back. Aurelia walked over to the vase and opened it and smiled to see her assumption was correct, it contained grease for the weaponry. Aurelia turned back to the Mask with a mischievous smile and devious twinkle in her eye. "I've a plan."

****
​

Moments later the both of them hid like the Mask had first suggested. With the Mask staying completely silent and Aurelia doing her best to mirror it, they listened as the Knights pursued them deeper into the equipment hall, many of them began to slip on the stone floor and cursed at how one of the grease pots laid broken in the corner. When the time was right, the two broke for the door like planned.

"Get the damned witch!" One of the men shouted from deep within the equipment hall as the Mask exited first. Aurelia meanwhile stood at the top of the steps and watched as they struggled to reach her, a smile on her lips. The witch brought one elegant hand up as the men cursed and slipped on their way to the door. Fire manifested from the hand she rose and with a graceful flick of her wrist, a single ball of flames descended down into the room, setting the grease aflame. She closed the door and turned to the Mask, the slightly muffled sounds of agony emanating from behind the door.

"Let's hurry and be rid of this place."

Then at that moment another commotion began back on the arena's floor. Aurelia moved closer, this time making sure the Mask knew that she needed a better view of what was happening. There stood what seemed to be the most capable people in the arena, right on the verge of a very very bloody battle. One of those figures was the man she needed to capture and another was the Paladin meant to subdue her. Time was running out as Tirian began to cut his way to the Paladin Lord and the Arena Master, Aurelia wished she didn't have to do what she was about to do. She turned back to the mask. "I'm stopping this before those fools kill each other."

Without waiting for the Mask's approval, Aurelia jumped over the side and down into the pit. She landed on all fours with a grunt but quickly dusted herself off as she got up. Tucking a few dark black strands of hair that had gone astray behind her ears, she approached the Paladin who had been searching for her in the tavern, her chin high. Nobody from Aurnhya was supposed to know she was here but like everything that had happened today nothing had gone by plan. Harabut true to it's reputation - was chaotic.

"Paladin Lord, I command you under the authority of our High King to halt your defense of the arena's master and capture his attacker alive." Aurelia declared loudly as she presented the sigil of the Aurnhya royal family the King had given her after their first night together. Her eyebrows narrowed as they met the stoic gaze of the Paladin. "I do not enjoy being followed, much less pursued Paladin. So I'd advise you take my demand seriously before our King hears of how you've distastefully involved yourself in the mission he has personally given me." She bluffed. Aurelia came here on her own accord and High King Dagamur was supposed to have never known. In the back of her mind she knew that it was going to be quite an effort explaining herself to her lover without exposing her intentions later. But she had few options. Her eyes drifted across the arena floor unassumingly, meeting with each of the powerful beings that stood there.

Waiting for the next move felt like a game of poker and luckily for the Witch, she perfected her face long ago.

@Wolfsin
@Aka~Kitsune ​

 

[Willow_]

Jet slowly stopped the carriage in front of the arena before getting off. Borin ran ahead into a small door that led underground, as Jet picked up a box of rare metals in each arm and followed closely behind, having to hunch over just to enter. The underground tunnels were dark and damp, even the scum of the city knew not to come down here, if you wanted to live that is. Many dark dealings and foul deeds occurred here in the shadows which were best not seen by those not included.

After following Borin down the small tunnels for a while, they came to a large opening which Jet could finally stand up fully in. The opening was a square room which had four entrances on either side leading into the room, which they had come from the south one. Borin span on his heel to face Jet, "Ye canz put the box's down now Jet, ts'a trade go'es down hee're" he bellowed excitedly as a cloaked man slid out of the shadows behind him. "You've got the goods?" the cloaked man said only his grin visible, which crossed his entire face. Borin nearly jumped out of his skin as the stranger appeared, "Yez! itz's over thee," pointing towards the metal giant as he placed the boxes down.

The cloaked stranger laughed "Good...." Borin spoke suddenly "Now about ma mon......" but before he could finish a knife had planted itself firmly between his eyes as another flew towards the giant unaware he could not harm it. The knife bounced of the Jets head before he took a step forward towards the cloaked man revealing himself "O... oh your, your a sentinal!" the cloaked man said as he ran through one of the doors.

Jet watched as Borin fell to the ground and a small pool of blood appeared beneath him, Jet stared at the pool of blood, unclear of how to feel before watching the man run away. One thing was obvious though, he couldn't let Borins killer go unpunished, Jet chased after the cloaked man however the tunnels where to small meaning he couldn't run and the cloaked man was exceptionally fast, most likely an assassin. The chase continued up some stairs into the arenas audience "Dammit, dammit, dammit" Jet shouted as he lost the man in the waves of people. There was no point to go back to the box's, they'd probably have someone to take them back. The giant stood among the screaming and shouting crowd sticking out like a huge thumb.

 

[RaccoonKing]

✿ Xanthe Liliana Selwyn ✿

@BearEnthusiast

Xanthe had simply fell into a silence when Aurelia took charge, an amused grin decorating her hidden lips as she chuckled in delight. People she met when "faceless" were always interesting ones. Important as well. However her amusement had only lasted until she was watching the witch ignite the flames, then she was still with an expression of horror. She had felt her hands quake with revulsion beneath her cloaks concealment, feeling as if her heart had skipped a beat or two. "Oh my..." Her eyes remained fixed on the closed door, as the plan was enacted in a hurry, even when she was moving through the crowds and to the edge of the arena she was still looking hopelessly towards it with a few spare glances back.

Her attention was gathered by Aurelia, prompting her to turn her fully around to face her as the mask would often make it seem as if she was not paying no attention. "Good Luck." She muttered out, slowly pulling herself away from the spot and towards the exit of the arena. She had brought Aurelia to her target and that meant it was time to "Vanish", or at least the "Faceless" Order member to vanish. Xanthe purposefully slowed her movements as she drifted through the excited but confused crowds, head and gaze lowered and as made her way out from the overly packed building.

She was intrigued. Xanthe could not deny that she wanted to observe the outcome of the ongoing events in the arena, a part of her wanting to know the conclusion of the gathering between the witch, assassin, champions and lycan. She had listened intently to the careless whispers of the crowd on her exit and gathered information on what had happened during her time in the armoury room and their escape...

Intent on witnessing this, she slipped into one of the very alleyways that she had dragged Aurelia along earlier with a tired sigh parting from her lips. After checking for people around, gloved hands escaped their shadows to reach the clasp of her cloak, shifting for a moment until the dulled metal clasp fell free. Xanthe wasted no time pulling it from herself and throwing it onto a nearby barrel as she reached for the dull white mask, removing it slowly and placing it onto the cloak before wrapping it up with the black garment. A sigh of exhaustion fell from pink lips, light blue eyes turning to watch the sky tiredly...

Now Xanthe stood unmasked. Platinum blonde hair fell down her back till her waist, the light shade of her hair nearing an white, contrasting the red and black scheme of her usual attire. The blood red under top that revealed a small amount of her bust with the black dress over it, the hem of its top dipping to her mid section while the skirt was had slits either side reaching her mid thigh. The dress itself was designed with gold hems, as is the belt that was around her midsection, along with the shorts worn under the dresses' skirt. Red sleeves from the first top concealed her arms as black and gold gloves garbed her nimble hands. Lastly was the small cap like garment over her shoulders that only reached to under her chest, clasped together by a gold chain that run from one collar bone to the other. Simple black boots with a small heel reached her mid calf finish off her attire.

Hands brushed down her skirts before moving to tie the mask up into the materials of her cloak, her free hand slipping briefly to the thin belt that hung around her waist to pull free the drawstring bag that was rolled up and pressed between her belt and hip. The wrapped up mask and cloak were quickly shoved inside and the bag thrown over her shoulder to rest diagonally across her. Some weapons were left visible upon her, knives strapped to her thigh and hip with a thin sword to match. The rest were hidden well.

To all who saw her, she was a once again a simple traveller.

Xanthe hurried over to the corner of the alleyway she had hid in to look for people, though found none... She slipped free of those consuming shadows and into the light, instantly turning to head back to the Arena. All the while a smile played mischievously upon her lips. Earlier she had paid for a room at a Inn as herself, though with a false name, so to avoid later suspicion as someone turning up just after the chaos of today. There was a slight skip to her step as she found herself once more in front of the arena. Like before she had stopped her steps, hesitation clear, only to gather her wits and make her way inside. This time she did not move with the grace and stealth of her "Faceless" façade but instead found herself quietly mumbling apologies as she got herself closer to the edge but not far enough that she could be picked out...Even if she would not be recognised, she would not risk it with anyone from Aunrhya around. The very word or thought brought a panic a second of panic to try crumble her composure.

Having gotten close by this point, Xanthe propped her lower arms up upon the edge as she leaned forwards slightly. Her lips pursed In an act of restraint as she watched. The chaos...it was such a heart shattering sight to witness...though Xanthe would not step away and hide from the reality. A soft hum strummed from her lips, her right arm shifting to prop itself up as her head fell into her hand tiredly. "How will this end...?" She asked to no one in particular, lips curving into a slight frown at the ones who stood in the arena floor with varying reasons. "This is such a mess..."

​

 

[DoomyCakez]

LOCATION
"This is a Godless place..."
Ω Harbarut || Area Bloodworks || Arena Fighting Grounds Ω

FORM/OUTFIT
"Let the war begin. "
Ω Lycan Form Ω

MENTIONS
"I shall stain the sands red with their blood."
Ω NPC Guards Ω
Ω Rombus Stone, Champion of the Arena Ω
Ω Tirian- @Wolfsin Ω


INTERATION
"Kill them all..."
Ω NPC Guards Ω
Ω Rombus Stone, Champion of the Arena Ω
Ω Tirian- @Wolfsin Ω

Errol had not heard, had not paid attention much to the voices changing around the arena, at least not until she had heard that first scream. It was blood curtling, that of a man dying and choking on his own bile. It was a satisfying sound. Served these creatures right for placing her in such a situation for the first place. She had not pity for these monsters, for their were far worse than her or any of her "bloodthirsty" kind. She did not do this to her enemies. She at least rewarded them with some sort of dignity in death. Her and Rombus were both in the same situation, even if they were coming from two completely different worlds. IT was what made them who they were. Two titans, obsolete in this bleak world...a dying breed of creation that the rest of the world was leaving behind. They were nothing more than cheap gags anymore, entertainment for the "intelligent crowd"...savages entertaining monsters.

Errol was feeling the pain of her exhaustion now, large legs shaking, stained red with a mixture of her own blood as well as Rombus's....she could not tell anymore. It all smelled the same here. Her gnawed jaw was still agap, bloody drool slowly dripping down the the sand and hay, which shifted under every step she made as she circled her opponent. Rombus did the same, following her movements with slighlty slowed skill. He was feeling it,too. The pain of the challenge was starting to settle in now, even if they adrenaline was higher than ever. In this hyper focused state though, Errol was not worried about it. She had been taught to cope with pain and exhaustion like this, massive head shaking from side to side, causing those heavy chains to rattle about her form before they fell and dragged silently behind her. She was eyeing for any weak points, positioning herself for her next attack. This man seemed to have none, his massive form moving like a work of art. He was a battle hardened creature, his primal nature coming out in low growls, while Errol's was snarls. This was getting close to the end of the dance. Errol would have to end it soon... would have to finish him off soon if she was still going to get out of here. She was using too much energy, losing too much blood and it was only now that she was thinking about that. Did that mean that some of the drug had worn off yet? Not likely, for everything around her was still blurred, still as though she was stuck in a windtunnel. She could not focus on one thought for more than a few seconds, blood shot orbs squinting shut as she tried to reign in her own actions....tried to focus...

She could hear Rombus coming again, jaws falling open as she reared up and bellowed her own call of war, msucles springing back to life as she ignored the pain and sprung into action. She would end this with one attack. She would finish him with all of her might, even if it meant that it was her death in the process. What did she care? There was no hope here. There was no escape here, for it someone as strong as Rombus could not escape, what made her think that she was any better off? She would simply die along side him in this hellhole. Let the Titans fall! Let them die and end the last of their kind! At least she would go out with the fire of war in her heart, with the pride and stench of battle on her breath! That would show these mortals! Let her battle remain on their hearts and minds while her soul returned to Lyra and the rest of her kin! She would be rewarded by the forest! She would live on as her father...as all the others before her had!

She heard footsteps, yet her eyes were refusing to leave Rombus, same as his were on hers, for they were in the heat of battle. Who would dare to try and interrupt such a terrifying sight? Who would be dumb enough to try and come between two beast in the heat of attack? Apparently someone, for a lone man ran right in between them, hands raised to stop their assault. Rombus slowed his procession...Errol's was slightly clumsier, having to force her massive form to turn, sliding in the sands and just barely missing the Lone Mortal by a few inches of her tail. She slid to a halt only a few feet away, spraying up dust and dirt as her massive form turned with her, leaving her staring right at the person who dared to interrupt. Did she really feel sore about it though? She did not know, for in this state, she could hardly focus on more than her own survival, the need to attack as her head shook from side to side, angry snarls and snaps her answer as massive paws beat against the soiled ground.

"Stay your hands, warriors! I do not come here to shed blood in this arena!"

Apparently he had no idea how an arena was actually run. That was all this place was about. It reaked of it, the smell of death and decay, so much so that every time Errol breathed in, she thought she would gag on the odor of pussing corpses and shit. She would not settle, silver stare flicking from the warrior, to Rombus, to the gathering soldiers in the stands as citizens fells still...silent... It was eerie, such a silence when her body had only been battered by the jeers of the ground for minutes upon minutes. Now...everyone seemed to have fallen quiet, siad for the still panicking ones...Why were they fleeing? What was actually happening right now? It was all unknown to Errol, Rombus as well, for this Lone Warrior had suddenly broken their trance. It was a taboo in the warrior world, breaking such a tie... severing such a bond with they warrior ancestors, but what was this Long Warrior's reasoning?

Errol could hardly pay attention, taking in the silence... the arguing between Rombus and the Lone Warrior to let her gaze glance around. They found the gate rather quickly, for it was wide open... She could make a break for it now. Her speed in this form would outdo even the fastest horses. She could run all the way back to her forest, from this hellhole... There was hope afterall... Maybe that had calmed her slightly, those beastly sneer upon her lips fading back, silencing those snarls to softer, deeper growls; however, her gaurd was indeed not down. She was counting, watching as soldiers started to appear in the stands... started to gather as civilians fled...

"I was forced to slay my kin!"

The Lycan's gaze flicked back up to this Lone Warrior in mild interest. Had he been a prisoner of an arena like this before? It seemed that Errol would find her answer rather quickly, for his emotional soliliquey was enough to move the hearts of even the saltiest and hardened of any warrior. If she had more control, Errol would have bowed her head in respect; however, she was still in panick mode, tensing as she could hear the footsteps of more guards...could smell the scent of new mortals closing in. This was a literal death trap...

"And I am here to do it again!"

Errol watched, almost in a trance as that spear flew through the air, into the crowd and part of her wished that it would strike its target, for they would all get something out of it... They would all feel the affects of it; however, such an end would have been too trivial... too simple. It was a beacon of light who stopped the spear, a massive shield guarding its target for the attack of the Lone Warrior. Errol had half expected such a thing, silver gaze only catching a glimpse of the shield's owner for a moment before she took in the guards gathering at the gates...climbing out of the stands and down into the arena itself. She turned slightly, form rigid as she snarls at the incoming mortals. This was not good, but Errol could not help but feel a bit of satisfaction in this. She could get a little of her own back, right? She had said she wished to kill ever guard who had dared to imprision her...who had touched her, stripped her from her family... her pride. She would make man pay.... She would stain the sands red with the color of their filthy blood.

"YOU WILL NOT STEAL MY VENGENCE!"

Her gaze flicked to the new warrior, in this hyperfocused state able to see every change... every shift in details upon her mortal skin... Those scales sprung up, flesh colored, yet hard as metal. It was a trail of death that this Lone Warrior was leaving, taking out guard after guard as though they were no more than flies and he the spider. Errol had never seen the Dragon Blood Line, but it truly was a sight to behold. She could admire it later, though. There was little time for such things in such a state of being, for her own battle was starting up again as well.

GET THE BITCH BACK TO HER KENNEL!

Fire. Immediate fire filled her as that familiar voice greeted her. It was none other than that same guard... that same piece of shit from before. Oh yes, if Errol felt the fire of battle before, she was absolutely burning now... craving the blood of her enemies.... Parched for the death.... for their cries of agony to ring in her ears. She would make them all pay.. She would take them all down, as well as anyone that dared to get in her way. IT was like a wave of bodies, how quickly this arena was going to be filled, and in this state, Errol could only focus on one thing: Vengence.

Like hell you will...

She rose up onto her hind legs, full height of over eight feet towering over the incoming guards before her. Her arms spread, blood claws fully extending, stained red from her battle. Her mouth fell open, fully displaying her sharp fangs like that of a wicked smile. Those silver eyes narrowed, lips pulling back more, before filly she threw her head back, offering a bellow...a howl to Lyra herself, in honor of the Moon even if she was not present to see this. May her cries reach her kin back in her homeland, for she would fight for them... represent them well at this time. It was a powerful call, massive hind paws moving her forward as she started in a jog, slowly falling to all fours to break into a spring, like that of a tank, pain completely forgotten, injuries ignored as she practically threw herself into battle, claws outstretched to rip threw weak mortal armors, knock aside weapons, claw threw flesh as she tore through the fist ground, placing herself in the middle as she attacked, body twisting as she plucked a human from the ground, muscles working as she literally tore his body in half, spraying the blood and gore upon his comrades as she let herself fall into that hyperfocused frenzy. They wanted a Lycan? She would show them one, and she would make them pay for all they had done.

She threw the mangled corpse aside, body twisting as she leaped away to the next ground, landing upon a guard and crushing him under her weight before she twisted, severing the head of another with the power of her strike. She flung the head, letting it smash into another before she took of, head turning to grab one of the guards between her teeth. She bit down, snapping the neck before throwing the body away. She was insatiable now, wide eyes filled with that crazed blood lust, that excitement for battle as she took off again, falling into this battle...not for survival, but for revenge.



​

 

[Azzy]

Collab between Jack and I.

Blood leaked from the gash in his head, it was easily apparent that the fight had already broken him down, and even now his vision was blurry. Rombus.. Stone.. Champion of Haribut, and obviously quite the attraction to unwanted attentions. This Tirian.... before he'd even thrown his spear he had stolen the show, and also... delivered death from his shadow. Rombus followed his assailants movements and not so gracefully as before he diverted enough to avoid getting cut by the woman. Battle awareness stole his compassion and he found himself following all three inner ring threats at the same time. Tirian who fought now like a Demon among men... in some desperate attempt... The Lycan who had proven the might of animals against him, now released her ferocity for all to see.. and finally... the real threat.. to him at least.

Rombus stood, eyes locked on those deathly crimson of his assassin. The taste of blood in his mouth still dulled his sense of caution as he strafed with her, waiting for the next move to be made....

"You have come here for me then ave ye? Why?"

The assassin's eyes were locked on her target, the crimson of her left flaring in the moonlight as Rombus finally spoke. She'd remain silent for a mere moment, scanning over his body, taking in his injuries, watching how he held himself. Then her voice rang out, oddly calm considering the situation.

"Strictly business, I'm afraid." Her expression remained blank, and he would likely find it difficult to read exactly what was going through her mind at this point. He'd just notice that, despite her blank expression, something primal flared in her gaze. All this time, her fingers twitched towards the hilts of her blades, ebony gleaming in lunar rays.

"Aye I suppose that would have to be your answer hmm.." Rombus grimaced and then, held up his one axe that still remained as he took his first step towards her. Regardless of business or otherwise, he had no intention of dying, and if he was to die, it would be while he was standing! "Alright then... you face on this day Haribut's champion! I am Rombus Stone.. and you are in MY arena!" His roar almost silenced the screaming, but everything had turned to chaos now. No one cared about who won this battle.... they were selfish mortal creatures running for their pathetic lives... Just as he now would fight for his.

Ragghhhhhh!!!!

Rombus charged in taking a heavy strike and he did his best to follow the movements of his assassin. His axe came down over her shoulder. Then again from the ground up he swung with the ferocity of a dying berserker!

When he took his first step towards her, the tips of her fingers had reached her daggers, skin brushing the cool metal though not moving to unsheath them. Her plump lips almost curved as he roared out what would likely be his dying words.

"I would expect nothing less. Come now Champion, let us put on a show."

As his roar echoed over the screams, and shouts of the arena, she knew the battle was beginning. The Champion charged, his mighty axe swung high above his head. Her fingers curled around the hilts of her daggers then, pulling them free of their leather restraints. Strafing to the side, she'd easily dodged the downward thrust, body spinning to narrowly avoid the upward one that followed. Her blades then bit, a flurry of ebony and crimson, at the battered flesh of his torso, body ducking beneath his arms for two single strikes before she'd leap away.

She was now crouched, blades poised, eyes locked on her target and never leaving it.

Rombus didn't have enough time to avoid it, or his body didn't allow him to... whatever the case, the first of the assassins blades sliced through his flesh, and he just barely was grazed by the second when he regained himself enough to step back. Ducking down.. Rombus reached out and grabbed a chain, and turned then flinging the chain to latch around the assassins leg. He tugged hard pulling her as he wound up to take her off guard and land a fell blow with his axe.

This poor man. She didnt even flinch when the chain wrapped around her ankle, his yank pulling her hard enough toward him that she'd used the momentum to turn her body in a swift circle, a leg extending with the toe pointed to land a swift kick across his face. Ever graceful, the assassin landed on her feet only to duck out of the way of the blow of his axe, the wind from the swing brushing the top of her head.

He may have landed it had he not been so tired out from the previous battle with the Lycan. A grunt came from her as lashed out with a single dagger, hooking it around the back of his knee, possibly slicing the tendons there. as she rolled along the ground to end up behind him.

it was impossible to keep up with her... how could he have expected that a trained assassin would be so easily dealt with? The blow forced Rombus to stubmle but it did not move him. Blood fell freely from the gash in his head now, the bite on his shoulder.... his arms.. legs... the blood taken by a fair opponent and now... this.. Assassin woman... would take the honor of his death?

Rombus didn't feel anything anymore, only that he knew that his leg no longer worked. His knee buckled and he slumped to the ground as his strength failed him. Rombus couldn't see the assassin anymore... But he knew that the pressence of her lingering promise of death still loomed over him. A death that was not hers to take... "LYCAN!!!" Rombus roared with the little strength he had left. he could hardly feel his own fingers now.. let alone coax the will to grab his axe anymore... "LYCAN GET OVER HERE!! THIS IS YOURS!! KILL ME WITH HONOR... LET ME DIE A WARRIOR NOT A FUCKING LAMB FOR THE SLAUGHTER!!! DAMMIT LYCAN CLAIM YOUR PRIZE!!!"

The last of his words were slurred... as he tried to maintain his consciousness. Rombus hung his head waiting... praying to whatever merciless Gods that be... that The Lycan would hear him...

The Assassin listened to the warriors calls, her eyes flicking to Lycan for a mere moment before she'd stepped up behind the man, a shadow, swift and unpredictable. Her blades sunk deep into the man's neck, entering through the back, and protruding from the front. Ebony was stained crimson as his life blood dripped from the tips of her blades.

"There is no honor in business Champion."

With that, she'd twist them, and yank outward both exiting in opposite directions. Clean cuts. His head remained attached, but lulled awkwardly to one side, tendon, sinew, muscle, and blood spilling from fatal wounds she'd just inflicted. The only thing that held the head upon the body likely being the barely intact spinal cord. A few gargles would be the last thing that anyone heard from Rombus as his lifeless body fell to the ground.

Taking a step back, she flicked each blade to the side splaying a trail of blood from them as she did. Her work was done.​

 

[Wolfsin]

~The Dragon vs The Angel~

One by one like broken pieces they fell beneath his rage. Tirian paved, no carved his way through the soldiers, and those that did touch him lost their lives in the same moment that they realized it was futile. They were far too weak to draw his blood, and his rage would not be sated with such small.... prey. Another war cry bellowed out from the former gladiator as he thrust forward and lift one of the soldiers from the ground with their own spear. From his finger tips grew dark and venomous claws, those of dragons, that burned on touch with the hatred of fire. Two more of them crowded on him, and Tirian turned and thrust his boot forward crashing into the mans chest as he sent him flying against the walls of the arena. The other landed what should have been a fell blow on Tirian's lower back... but he was a lesser man striking a titan of hatred.

The blade bounced off of a scaled surface and Tirian turned with a scimitar he'd taken from yet another foolish saccrifice. A deathly slash carved the lesser man in half and with his free hand Tirian yanked the lower half of the mans body from the air flinging it into the next crowd of challengers that dared face him.

His focus was pin point, he didn't even bother to look over at the once captured Lycan... he knew that she too would have her day here... He would not stop her. Regardless of how long... she was now a prisoner to this arena... the events of the day would remain with her for the rest of time... and she too would be free once the head of the 'master' was on a pike at the gates of this forsaken hell. His Draconic eyes turned to the tiniest of slits as Tirian carved down the next group of three. His blood rage knew no end... and the more he fought the more his hyper sensitive strength turned him into a living juggernaut.... Tirian didn't care to understand why.. all he wanted now.. was vengeance.

"Paladin Lord, I command you under the authority of our High King to halt your defense of the arena's master and capture his attacker alive."

Tirian slew the last of the scum currently close enough and looked up. In the stands.. there was a woman... one that he recognized even despite his blood rage of the Dragon. "So... there was in fact a reason to everything.." A sick grin of amusement displayed on his lips as he lowered his head. "very well.." Tirian stepped back, allowed for the soliders to create a small semi-circle around him. Both of his arms were raised at his sides as he walked around... There was only one opponent here that he wanted to face now.. and slowly they were making their way into this arena now.

From the stalls a brilliant looking spear flew and landed at Tirian's feet. He followed it and looked down then up, just in time to see the armored holy-man drop into the arena. Tirian grasped his 'own' weapon and really prepared for a fight now.

"As my King commands I will bring you in. I will ask you once.. do not resist.. you will not leave here alive if you do."

The Paladin then drew his legendary sword and took stance as he stared blankly into the eyes of a dragon.

"Where I come from.. regardless of the hatred... one feels for their opponent.. we give our names, so that one will know what to carve into the sands when this fight is done.... What is your name Paladin... I would have mine spear remember it well!" Tirian almost growled out the words as he also took up his famous fighting stand. Crouched... ready, the tip of his spear angled and pointed at the bloodied sand below.

The Paladin scoffed but humored the man as he extended his weapon outward and placed his hand at his chest. "I am Galvant of the Paladin order. There is little more that you need know murderer."

Tirian smirked and responded. "I am Tirian Bladefell... Liberator, Traitor of the sands... whatever dastardly name you want to give me... It matters not. At least i know now what to carve into the sands for the fallen!

Tirian wasted no time charging in at his opponent, but the Paladin Galvant was not a babe.. wet behind the ears either. Steel upon steel clashed as the ring echoed through out the arena. Galvant stepped in and came down with a strike of his sword which seemed to sear even the air around Tirian, as fire erupted out of nowhere. Tirian turned in kind and twisted his spear around his body in a graceful display as he deflected the sword away from him and then swung his own weapon thrice around trying to catch his opponent with the sharpened edge of its blade. Galvant was not so slow to be caught in this and grasped the hilt of the spear with his free hand pulling Tirian into him as he rased his leg and kicked Tirian in the gut as hard as he could. At the same time the spear became something else... a spark of lightning erupted at its base and the two opponents wre blasted from each other, though the spear returned to Tirian's grasp in the same second.

Galvant braced himself as the spear flew from Tirian's hand and arced towards him, at the half way point it turned to a bolt of lightning as Galvant barely deflected it.. one of his pauldrons crumbling to dust from where the mighty weapon had hit. The spear was once again in Tirians grasp and he charged his opponent now thrusting in with deathly precision. Galvant recoiled and recovered fast enough to dodge the attack and come int with three attacks of his own. Each swipe seared the air causing a burst of fire and heat to ignore around them. Tirian was certainly feeling it. And at the end of the third attack Galvant pointed his sword at Tirian as the weapon extended itself into a burning arrow that struck Tirian directly in the chest and knocked him off his feet.

Tirian recovered just about as fast as he could, rolling to the side as blood came from his lungs. The puncture wound was barely visible as he rose again and started in a mad sprint towards his opponent. At mid point he leaped into the air and thrust at a diagonal point downward, his body and the spear falling like a meteor striking ground. Galvant was pushed back and only by the sacred light of his sword was he not blasted into the wall of the arena. An orange light surrounded him now originating from the Paladin's sacred sword. The light soon faded and Galvant rose up just in time to deflect the next thrust of Tirian's spear. Swaying the weapon to the side he slashed inward at Tirian's torso, but was short when Tirian brought the butt end of his spear up and deflected yet another attack, spinning with his movement he came around with the edge of his spear, and Gavant ducked underneath as he bullrushed Tirian and did his best to drive the man to the ground. Muscles bulged against one another... but the strength of the dragon prevailed here as Tirian lifted Galvant off his feet and fell backwards slamming the Paladin into the ground on his back. Tirian scurried to his feet and turned with spear in hand to finish this fight, but Galvant was already standing.

The two shared a moment of rest... Galvant's breath as a haggard as the beaten down Tirian, and neither of them moved for a moment, until Galvant rose his hand to the air, the tip of his sword pointed to the sky. "You are not... a man.. Tirian Bladefell.. You are a monster.. a dragon.. and so I will fight you as such." The clouds formed a circle as the sky seemed to split open. A beam of light shined down.. and from what could only be imagined as the heavens.... To golden armored beings appeared.. One with a bow of light hovered upon the air with a double set of white angelic wings. While the other crashed down into the sand and rose up to the size of a 10 ft tall man. His shield was half his size, and in his right hand he wielded a halberd. This holy guardian had no fight... only a smiling mask made of gold, and his six white wings folded around him as he looked to Tirian. ​

 

[Wolfsin]

~Vengeance~

Hollow lights fell over the arena, an eternal blessed fire engulfed the edges of the arena. The gate house was engulfed in bright light and the highest of the angels drew the mighty string to her bow before loosing it into the ground. The arrow did not seek the gladiator Tirian however, not as the paladin so desired. The arrow of light pierced the hearkened and mysterious metal of the body-less Jet and set him off his feet tumbling into a nearby layered wall of seats. Jet could hardly recover and maneuver as the second air split into a hail of light that shattered the stone walls of the arena. That was not all.... the halberd wielding angel appeared just behind Jet and swiped a powerful blow attempting to remove the sentinels head. jet barely dodged and looked behind him as the other half of the arena was blown away just by the power of the attack. Lives... slain in an instant before they could even come to think of their sins and ask for mercy. The angels showed no mercy.... not to the abomination that was never meant to be.

Galvant looked onward in horror and was only capable of casting his shielding spell over the King's precious vessel.. Aurelia. The chains he held in both hands to control the power of angels... Those chains were broken... "Heed me Angels.. by our Holy King take this man... Capture him!" There attention never faltered and their wrath was unquestionable as Jet dodged around them as best he could.. he didn't dare to meet the Scions of light in combat... no one dared.

Heavens wrath fell over Haribut.. and all of the Godless creatures that inhabited it were inconsiderable in the aftermath of a war waged on heresy of the highest. Vexalya did not remain long either.. though it was not so simple as creating shadows out of their holy light.. to walk on such shadows burned the soles of her feet even now. A sharp hiss left the womans lips as she sheathed her daggers and tumbled into the sides of the arena. Not so easily however. A large hand wrapped around the assassins petite ankle and she was flung from the wall, tumbling into the bloodied sands right next to Rombus. Vexalya stared back.. her eyes gleaming in a murderous glare as she stared into the eyes of the broken and beaten lycan.

"You are not meant to die this day, not by me lycan... I suggest you do not try and stop me."

Her words came out as more a wicked hiss than anything as she brandished her daggers and stared the lycan down awaiting her move.

Errol did not waste time for words though as she rushed forward and swiped at the vexalya. Her teeth were marred with blood and grime from the feat of weaklings she'd endured, and only now as the toxin in her body started to wear off did she feel the pain of everything catching up to her. There was no way to defeat this assassin.. not like this.. but she would... she would.... tr...

AWHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!​

Even with her senses distorted as they were... she knew this sound.. the call of the hunt... Though she would not believe it.

Vexalya cursed silently, for she too knew this sound, and only by the grace of a falling stone was she able to cloak herself enough in shadow that she was able to vanish from this place.

"The hunters arise breaking their pact of the moon for the promise of their loyalty... such truly... beautiful creatures throwing their lives away for her life.... I truly hope that she lives a life that is worth theirs.... Alas... this play is soon coming to an end... all the pieces are set..."

Silvermask tipped his mask before dropping from the largest of towers. vanishing into the night.

The howls ripped through the soldiers like a nightmare. Fear consumed them and no matter what the better of the men said they could not find their courage as they searched all around them, desperately crowding up like lambs for the slaughter. They did not wait long.

They came from the walls, some were twice the size of even Errol, but they came. The first of them launched into the grouped up soldiers and their screams were hardly recognizable under the vicious roar of the lycan that clasped their mighty maw around his throat. Soldiers of prestige were reduced to whimpering children as a dozen lycan' filled the arena and ripped their foes apart. The largest of them moved to the side of Errol, the same as two others who fought off spear men rushing towards her. Errol knew this wolf... his name.. was Gerath, a proud warrior of her clan... a man of Lyra whom was promised to their goddess.

"Errol... you are beaten.. rest now.. you will return home." His voice as warm, a mixture of growls and a soft and commanding tone all the same. Gerath raised Errol onto his shoulders and let her weight fall over him. The drug had not fully left her system.. and so she could not change back. Still Gerath carried her with ease. His mighty legs leaving the ground as he bounded the height of the arena in one leap. Gerath landed on top of the pinnacle of hate and stood there for a moment... a low growl passing through his maw. "I only wish we'd acted sooner.. and killed that human...." With that he bounded from the roof again and was gone. He and four others.... still seven...lycan remained in the arena.... for them.. they already knew just what this mission meant for them.... They had already chosen.

"Angels! heed me. Here is your enemy!"

........

Tirian was not so lost to realize that everything was coming undone... but he was almost not stupid enough to think that there would be an escape either. He knew that life.. existed beyond this paladin. Life.. or death. "Enough... of this paladin... I will kill you now.. and claim the head of the only person that should have died here today... You interfered... and now you pay!"

Tirian rushed forward, this time much faster than before, it was as if he floated on the wind. His spear thrust forward and lightning erupted from its tip as he pierced the air before him. A light appeared.. and standing before him the female angel of the sky stood with her head hung. Her eyes were endless... and her gaze petrified him. Golden chains.... appeared around him as the angel crumbled into dust.... before him those very chains of light that had once held her to the paladin now wrapped themselves around his throat, and body, his arms and legs and drug him to the ground. His scales receded.. his eyes returned to that of a human... and soon enough his roar for vengeance was silenced as his head hung low and the weight of his fate fell over him.

A song... that was cataclysmic played in his head, and Tirian looked up to see the other Angel singing to the sky with a fury unlike anything Tirian had ever seen. Galvant beckoned to him... pleaded. The paladin was on his knees trying to calm the fury of the gods. But Gods knew nothing of mercy... Aristara... this world... it was a Godless place... vaguely Tirian remembered from this point the sky cracking... light shining. he noticed the woman who commanded he be captured... ushered away as Galvant finally gave in to his fate... He stood before her, and planted his sword into the ground as a holy light enveloped them... and him... Tirian was also safe.... from it.. though he could hear it.. he could feel the bloody tears falling from his eyes now.. as he tried to understand how pathetic and small his existence was.

Another flash of light as the song turned into multiple sounds. The Angel vanished and vision ceased as the light enveloped them all. it was gone as soon as it had come... and as the light faded, and the sound of silence passed through them... Tirian looked around him.

What remained of Haribut.

"A truly.... Godless... land.."

~End Chapter One~

​

 

[Wolfsin]

~Chapter Two~
~Threads~

Aristara. A land of wonders beyond belief. Once known to house Angels, Dragons, and the most powerful of Fey. And now.. this. The events followig the receding of the darkness came with such a price that the world is in great shambles. The sea between two continents now a haven for deep sea dwelling demons. The sky above a place polluted with hatred where monstrous flying creatures soar into the unreachable heavens. The land below divided by war, conflict, and death. This is not a simple prologue however, for some already know what powers of destruction exist within this world. Haribut, a city of commerce and trade; a slum that existed for its existence alone was eradicated in a single flash of light accompanied by the chorus of Angels. Events unfold just as they are supposed to in this world. Several influential candidates to inherit the dominion over this world, now seek their fates in all corners of the world. This is their tale.

@BearEnthusiast

The clap of horses hooves was a monotonous sound against the paved earth. Accompanied by the dull clink of armor and the soft breath of a man at her side. The Lady Aurelia was not far now from her home, prisoner in tow behind them. Deep blue eyes glanced over at her as the Paladin known as Sir Galvant addressed his lady with a smile. "I never expected you had been given such a momentous mission as this milady, please forgive me for misconceiving you." Normally silent, the man felt a hint of regret for following orders just this once. That and his faith was dwindling with recent events. "We are not far off from m'lords house 'lady. Only another hour by horse back and we will be safe within Lord Erimors fortress." Yes the 6 great pillars of the Kingdom of Aunryha, lead by the six archdukes of the high bishop and King himself. Aurelia was all too aware of the way this worked, and also that Duke Erimor was one of those that did not trust her being. However this was a game Aurelia knew all too well, and she could play it better than any... This Duke was no exemption.

@Wolfsin

He could hear it, and perhaps that was the whole reason that he didn't want to open his eyes. The sound of clattered chains. A sound Tirian hated more than anything. Slowly deep reddish-copper eyes opened and Tirian glanced through the bars of a cage. he was being pulled behind two people in a wagon, his arms and armor stripped and his body laid bare for the world to witness.... it was all too familiar. A low growl stormed from his dried out throat as he gripped his hand around the bars and glared past them at the two who hauled him. "A fate of cells awaits me then? Know that I will not accept this fate." His voice hardly slipped out, unheard by his captures. "I will kill you for this... with these CHAINS!" Try as he might his shouts were for only his ears. his mouth was dry, and the beating sun left him more than a little dehydrated.... but in the distance, he could see it. A large wall mage of silver stones, with golden veins running through it. A large citadel at its center... wherever it was they were taking him... it wasn't going to be easy to escape.

@Aka~Kitsune

Destruction was what followed the mission... countless lives were lost in the battle of only two people. This was their fight, this was the reason that the Order existed. innocent lives caught up in wars they didn't belong too, the mere thought sickened Xanthe as she rode off to the next harbor village, her mind was set on where she would go next until Silvermask called upon her once more. She would return... home. The thought had entered her mind a few times, but after witnessing what Angels could do.... it was what she knew she needed. No family await her there, and even if they did she would not be able to see them... after all the woman she was in that kingdom was dead now... she was a faceless woman carrying out the will of the world.. as Lord Silvermask so often said.

The small little harbor village of Castor was just ahead now, and Xanthe could tell that her horse was tiring. Slowly she dismounted the creature and pet its nose once before ushering it away from her. The rest of the way on foot would not hurt her.

@Azzy

"Faster..."

Vex dashed through the darkness with a speed unlike any. A bright light engulfing everything behind her... she tried to control her breathing, but even the assassin knew that this light meant death for her. To have intruded upon her shadows, to have chased her this far in the planes of darkness.... Vex shouted out again.. 'Faster!" and just as the light engulfed the remaining darkness, she dove forward... landing and half assed rolling into a crouching position just under a tree. A sigh of relief passed the womans lips as she looked behind her to see a pillar of light that stretched to the heavens... what little that Haribut was; it was now gone. Vex smirked and shook her head before leaning against the bark of the tree. She would just take some time to recuperate some, and then catch the next ship in Castor to head across the sea. She needed to return to the circle now.

@"Lost"

Stones moved involuntarily as a large armored hand reached out from the little rubble that remained after the battle of Haribut. Jet stretched his arm out and crawled out from what was a mortals grave; Dust fell from him in droves as he surveyed around him. The chaos that ensued now all too apparent, he even forgot about his own 'wounds' until Jet glanced down to see a large chunk of his side armor missing, as well as part of his left shoulder. The arrows of light that had pierced him... the anger of the angels drawn to him. none of it made sense.. but one thing was for sure... he needed to make it back to Do'l Adyr'en, and that required him to get back to the ship they'd come here in. Of course docking in was far too much gold for the dwarf.. that'd accompanied him and so they'd had to travel from Castor. Jet didn't feel pain for his body was nothing but armor.... and so with a reluctant and muffled sigh;blowing out the rest of the dust from his helm, Jet set off in a quickened dash towards Castor.

In Castor~

"Alright for any of ye that are head'ed to the mainland across the sea, we be leav'n with'n the hour!"

Xanthe arrived just in time to hear what was the last call of the ship. The vessel was a beautiful work, and imprinted on its hull was its name... "Heaven's Spear" A powerful ship with what appeared to be quite the able crew. it was likely their business to transport vagabond strangers across the dark seas. Xanthe approached the captain and dug in her pack for the little gold necessary for such a voyage, handing over 3 extra golden coins for good nature to the captain. "Aye thank ye lass. We will need yer assistance in prepar'n meals though if yer fine with that then welcome aboard the Spear." Xanthe nodded once and stepped aside. From the shadow of a nearby post another being appeared. Xanthe recognized the woman instantly but said nothing. Her motives were her own, and she would not jeopardize her trip by starting trouble with this assassin. The woman slipped far less coin than Xanthe had into the mans hands, but didn't seem to have any issue getting pass onto the ship... likely because the captain already knew quite well who the woman was, and didn't dare cause a problem with her. The final guest of honor arrived only thirteen minutes later. A familiar armor shroud in tattered brown cloaks slowly made his way to the captain, and flashed a single medallion, by the looks of it; dwarven made. The Captain raised a brow... and a moment of silence was shared between the two of them, before the Captain placed a hand on Jets shoulder and ushered him onto the ship.

'Not S'posed' te do this but Last Call!" The captain shouted, as many more people filed onto the ship. Xanthe, Vex, and Jet all from different walks of life now would sail the darkened sea together. With a final whistle, the oars started moving and soon enough the captain raised his hand with a small ring on his finger that st a powerful wind against the back end of the sale... The voyage of the Heaven's Spear had begun.

@DoomyCakez

"This was a fools errand Gerath, you risk too much!" It was a Lycan hunter named Redas that spoke now and yet the others nodded in agreement. The mightiest of them Gerath, simply stared into the fire. "We had to save her. For Lyra. Errol is a special creature to our lady of the Moon.. there was no better choice." Gerath knew he was right in his words, but the others were not so convinced, despite the fact that he more than any of them had the most to lose from this. "We can not take boat... prepare the others, we will take the walk, the bridge." The others growled but ultimately fell silent recognizing that the decision had been made. Slowly Errol awoke from her stupor, the last of the drug given to her int he arena wearing off. She woke with a start, and shot up from her spot clawing at whatever air was closest. Gerath noticed her instantly and pushed up from the ground. "It is good that you are awake Errol. come. eat the hunt is good, the fire warm.. and company.. well.. mediocre at best... bahaha" Gerath did not expect her to adapt to freedom once more so easily but he would at least do what he could to provide what little comfort he could for his pack mate. This was the best he could do for both her.. and him.

@Wingless_Angel

People passing, and none the wiser. Little Alina could pass through thousands a day, and none would even turn their nose at her. Sometimes it felt like more of a curse, but truly the curse was that the young deathless had to do this at all. Slowly Alina weaved her way through the people not stopping but to listen to small tales of the world beyond this little city. She was south west of a grand forest, the very forest where elves lived, and yet so close to the sea too. There wasn't much to do here in this city though, save for stealing what little she could... even that had lost its appeal some time ago though. Alina then wandered out for the little village towards the outskirts of the forest. She often visited, just to get away from the stench and rot of the village. It was here that she found a peculiar sight. A man... in drawn out and worn armor.. surrounded by three armored elves.

@Robin man

The trees were peaceful. Not that ol Cardon cared too much about that. Hunched against one of the trees he polished the blood stained blade of a mighty looking weapon. Mumbling what sounded like gibberish under his breath, through the rusted iron helm he wore. At least three murders in the last week or so, and still this village had provided the murderer no entertainment whatsoever. "Two more.. Jespar.. and we will be on our way... this shitty little village is no fun at all.. my dear friend." His words were a coarse whisper for no one to hear, that was until soft padded footsteps crept up on the man, followed by the sound of drawn blades. Cardon glanced up to see three elven sentinels patrolling the outer woods.

Outer Elven Woods~

Alina quickly found a place to hide and watch the peculiar scene.. and Cardon started laughing as he rose up and waited for one of the men to run him through with their sword. His hand gripped the blade and snapped it even though it was inside of him as he let out a disturbingly happy sigh, and then with one hand swung his machete around in a powerful arch cleaving the first elf in half as he stared down the rest.

Outro-

Jet, Vex, and Xanthe find themselves on a ship ready to sail across the darkened sea to each their own objectives. (This will be a chapter mostly done on sea for you guys have some fun with it.)

Alina and Cardon are just meeting now. (Have a pretty easy fight with these elves, but make it a fight. I want Alina to somewhat help with this even if its just something tricky. I'm looking to pair you guys as a Deathless thief and body guard type thing for reasons. I ban violence or killing of Alina, even if you are a butcher.. work something out here for story purposes please x.x)

Aurelia and Tirian are on their way to Duke Erimor's estate. This man is very rude and uncanny. its going to be political fun times for Aurelia to weasel her way through their little meet and greet. As for Tirian well he is a prisoner and well I certainly expect Aurelias unlikely handling in capturing him to draw some curiosity to this strange man. Something to consider in the coming posts.

Errol is just now waking from her stupor and is noticing the remaining Lycans that lived whom saved her from the arena. I want simple interaction for now until i build up to the event that is coming.

I leave a lot of responsibility with my players now. I need you to show me you want this, so that I can finish updating the information as I need to. i can't wait to see what all of you do with this story.
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[Robin man]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Cardon couldn't help but to bare a slight grin as he watched the elf in front of him being sliced in two. "[/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent]Ah, beautiful." [/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent]He thought to himself as he looked at the second half of the first elf's body finally down to the ground. Cardon looked towards the other two elves in front of him. The two slightly quivered in fear as they looked at the old knight with the massive blade. One of them had a mace, and the other held a spear. Cardon held his blade over his shoulder before he said. "Wanna try again?" He asked in a cheeky tone. The two elves looked at each other before they nodded. The elf with the spear ran towards Cardon, going for a right swing. Cardon was able to hold his blade up, and blocked the attack with minimum effort. Cardon pushed the elf back, forcing the elf to stumble back and fall to the ground. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]The spear holder looked up at Cardon, who held the massive blade over his head, about to swing down for a cleave. In blind panic, the elf quickly thrusted his spear up towards Cardons face, slipping the spear tip right in between one of the holds on the faceguard. Cardon finished the cleave, unfazed by the spear the pierced through his head. "Luckily they didn't hit my good eye." He thought to himself as he looked down at the now dead elf[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Cardon felt a familiar emotion surging through his head, that normal feeling he would get whenever he was in the hunt, excitement. The elf with the mace, ran over, and went for a uppercut, hitting the butt end of the spear shaft, forcing the spear to go further up in his head, before Cardon was even able to properly react to the attack. The spear tip was now poking out of the back of Cardons head. Cardon let out a soft groan as he slowly fell down to his back, his blade remained stuck in the ground, right where the second elf once stood. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Cardon's right hand twitched as he looked up, seeing the third elf looked down at him. A look of nervous curiosity on his face. The elf looked around the area, to make sure there wasn't anyone else in the immediate area. "Is anyone there?" He asked in elvish, wanting to make sure nobody was gonna ambush him. He didn't bother checking his fellow elves bodies, knowing that nothing can survive being sliced cleanly in two. The elf looked back at Cardon when he thought that everything was safe, he noticed that the mystery knight that murdered the other two elves was still moving. The elf's eyes widened when he noticed it. He walked over and held his mace up high before he swung down, hitting Cardon right in the ribs, hearing a few loud cracks, Cardon's ribs were broken at this point. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Cardon groaned softly and forced out a few coughs as he looked up at the sky, not feeling any of the pain that should be in his chest. Cardon then chuckled as he looked back towards the scared elf. The elf was about to say something before he stopped, realizing how this man isn't dead yet. He was one of the deathless, a race that seemed to be getting more and more common each day it seems. The elf looked down at the Deathless with a look of disgust before he hit Cardon in the chest again.[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]@Wingless_Angel [/BCOLOR]

 

[Azzy]

Upon gaining passage to the ship, the assassin made her way to the most secluded corner she could find. Leather gloved hands pulled the black feathered hood over her head, the shadow cast across her visage welcomed. Unorthodox eyes gazed out at the rippling waters as the ship itself cut through the waves. The endless pool of black waters alluring. Inviting almost. Naked lips curved slightly as she lowered herself onto a crate, legs pulling up to cross before her. If any were keen enough to notice, the crew made it a point to steer clear of the Shadow Dweller. They knew who she was, and knew better. It likely didnt help that, even above the scent of the sea....the scent of blood was stronger upon her. The sight of the grime upon her leather attire, the red stains upon her hands.

The fight had been more than was necessary; Lycans, and Angels werent part of the deal.

The crescent curve of her lips turned down then, fingers drumming against the side of the boat. She had a lot to tel The Circle when she returned. Surely they hadnt known the events that happened. The information would be welcomed. Likely.​

 

[Willow_]

Every step Jet took a layer dust fell off him onto the deck irritating the crew of the ship. He was a reck, his clothes where in tatters showing his armoured body in places as well as his wounds in plain view. His wounds where bad, a human would have died from the sheer shock and pain of receiving them. The most noticeable were his left shoulder as it had lost all its armour as well his left side, which had been completely ripped off leaving a hole to pear into his very being. Luckily his creators, the Angels were never keen on sharing secrets of the sentinels and so to stop the truth being seen a black mist covered the holes in his shoulder and side stopping people seeing if it was cogs, magic, aliving organism inside the armour or nothing at all.

As the ship took off he stood on the side looking across the ocean as he tried to gather his thoughts, what had just happened to him and why had they attacked him as if he was a threat? He shook his head as he pushed those thoughts away as he looked at his wounds, he needed to repair them sooner than later. He stared round the deck looking for a place to repair himself, it seemed there was a corner that the crew and passengers where avoiding due to some cloaked girl. He strode towards her as dust fell off him covering the floor, thinking he'd seen her before but he shrugged it off and sat next to her as he took off his tattered clothing revealing his silver torso and the scratches and marks which where on every inch of his metal body. He sighed as he put his useles clothes next to him as he began messing with the big hole on his side.

(Please point out any mistakes)

 

[RaccoonKing]

✿ Xanthe Liliana Selwyn ✿

The second the boat had begun to move among the seas, Xanthe had a large smile of delight painted gloriously upon her features. Her steps were basically skips and her general demeanor was overly peppy, even for her. Though despite the overly excitable image she portrayed as she moved through the ship, Xanthe's mind remained in a dueling state. Logic seemed to forever try to put a damper on her plans and so her 'heart' waged against it with all it could. By her logic, she should not be on this ship or be heading where she is heading...though deep down the longing to know about the safety and state of the Selwyn screamed back in defiance. In her confliction, despite her painted happiness, Xanthe was speechless and silent despite her prancing around.

Xanthe had adjusted her bag till the strap was diagonally over her shoulder and since getting aboard, had refused to remove it. Her mask was in there for a start. Paranoia had refused to let her release it from her person. Though it was possibly because by it being so close, she felt that she could return to being 'faceless'...that she could return to being with these conflicting feelings for a while. 'I just want to make sure they are okay...I left without warning...a note...anything!' She argued mentally, only for her expression to soften for a moment. 'But if I am caught....'

Broken out with her internal argument with herself, Xanthe's gaze snapped around to a crew member who approached her. Ceasing in her steps she shifted on her heels to face him properly before smiling happily over at him. She definitely did look almost insanely happy...The man brushed off his shock before speaking in his rough, scratchy tone. "Ya' the lady Capt' said would be helping with the food, right?" It took Xanthe a moment as she recalled the agreement as she boarded before nodding, stepping around the crew member and began to walk to the kitchens, knowing the way as she had passed it during her walk through the ship. "That is me~" She cooed, letting her arms sway by her sides. "Soooo...." She glanced over to him who had caught up with her. "Who are you?" He stumbled for a second before muttering back "Asdan, Ma'am" Xanthe just nodded again, still smiling. "I'm Lily. Nice to meet you Assy~"

Xanthe ended up pushing open the door to the kitchens, not waiting for a reply from Asdan as she stepped inside. Letting her fingers slowly lock within one another behind her back she glanced over at Asdan before looking around. "So...What can I help with?" She asked, nodding as he pointed over to one of the surfaces filled with vegetables to be chopped. Xanthe hummed under her breath as she walked over to the surface, pulling off her bag and gloves, which were quite dirty and dropped them by her feet. With a practiced ease, she swept her long locks behind her back and out of her face as her hand reached out for the knife perched on a rack by her side. Fingers wrapped around its handle one by one, eyes falling onto the blade itself before she reached over to the closest piece of food to her. A faint smile, an honest one, appeared as she set out on chopping the carrot she had picked up into slices, the actions sparking a vague memory of her 'mother' teaching her how to cook in her youth...

"Ya' okay Lily?"

Once again snapped out of her trance, her gaze was brought over to Asdan who was at her side working on some type of soup that Xanthe decided she wouldn't be eating...though she wouldn't say it out loud. Looking at his worried expression, she cocked her head before shaking her head softly. "Ah...Memories you know?" She mumbled, pushing the cut up food away before moving on. "They are bittersweet...beautiful and warm to have but painful all the same." Xanthe kept her gaze trained on the knife the whole time. Asdan sent her a warm smile before nodding and moving his attention back to his dish. "I understand...I miss my family but I need the money ya' see...this ship is how they are surviving..."

She paused in chopping and shifting to look over at him, her expression filled with sorrow yet she could not bring herself to speak as Asdan continued. His tone was quiet as it trembled with identifiable emotions, sparking further pain to flutter in her chest. Xanthe found herself feeling weak when she heard of the sufferings of families, no matter how small the issue was. Asdan spoke of his children and wife and Xanthe had silently returned to her work, not daring to utter a word. No...he had already spilled information about his family willingly, any questions she asked would be prompted by her ability and regardless of privacy he could speak them to her...she could not do that to him...

Finishing the pile of vegetables set for her, Xanthe deposited them all into a bowl before bringing them over to one of the other cooks who needed them, uttering a small greeting before skipping back over towards Asden and leaning up against the counter. "Is there anything else I can help out with?" She asked softly. Asden just shook his head quickly, looking back to his work. "Na' we were nearly done even before I came and got ya'...Ya can probably just wait around and take some dishes to people." With a nod of acceptance, Xanthe gathered up her stuff and huddled it over to a corner of the room and out of the way. "Stay close! I'll call ya' when they are ready to be distributed!"

Throwing herself into the corner to sit, Xanthe brought her knees up to her chest, the skirt of her usual attire scattered around her in an imposing pool of black and red. Her elbow was promptly resting on her drawn up knees and her head held in her hand. Though she adored the gentle and loving tone Asden spoke about his family with, it only intensified the pain in her chest at thinking about the people who raised her. Going back to them was a mistake but it was one she was deep down trying to justify... Going to Barigot was a danger but she needed to know...A deep sigh had her chest heaving and eyes briefly fluttering closed in though. Despite her time in 'The Order', she had always thought back to the fate of Barigot...who she left for and for the Selwyn's who raised her...She needed closure and this was how she would get it. A brief look and she would be satisfied... Xanthe groaned, throwing her head back as she stared at the ceiling.

"This is such a bad idea..."


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[DoomyCakez]

Although she was awake, Errol was far from coherent, for the images of her last coherency still reigned strong in her fragmented mind. She was not crazy, or at least crazier than what she was known to be, but she was far from sain. What had been done to her, the monstrousities she had witnessed by the hand of mortal, they were both far greater than what she would have originally imaged capable of such weak creatures. Indeed, their weakness was no question to the likes of her, for they had been nothing more than ants, so easily broken between her hands, yet when in such great numbers, the weak and intelligent can very well bring down the strong and feral. These new contraptions they held, objects of metal and oil creaking and lighting ablaze before her very eyes, powered by the gems or orange and red... Creatures of fire, as she would have liked to put, but they were true nightmares to her now... The real monsters that had dragged her down to a blackness she doubted she would ever be able to forget...

LET ME DIE A WARRIOR!

His voice... How much prominence it held in her head, even though Errol had hardly know the mortal beast. It was true, they had been one of the same, both creatures of circumstances, yet Rombus had found his end due to her selfishness... It was true that the warrior's death had affected her. He had died in such an underhanded, crippling way instead of out in the battlefield amongst an equal. Any other time, that assassin would have easily met her demise, but Errol could see that the damage that had been done to both she and Rombus had led to his end. She should have killed him... Should have ended his suffering and let him die a warrior's death, for he was the most worthy of such a title. Lycan could be quite sentimental in that sense, even if Errol had hardly known the mortal man. In any other circumstances, she would have considered him quite the ally...

She would not let her thoughts be haunted by such a thing though, her head lowers as her hands came up, long fingers lacing together despite whatever pain she felt as those piercing eyes fell closed. Her voice was soft, ancient words of those of her kin in a silent prayer for the mortal man. Where he had been shamed in his human life, she saw him fitting of a Lycan's praise. May he find a place under Lyra's wing. Was it a prayer for his salvation? It was something she could do now, for in her clear senses, Errol had come to realize what she had actually done. The mortal had been bitten by her in the end. Oh yes, Rombus had felt the poison of the Lycan. Errol had shared this blessing and curse with him, so he was one of her kin. She had felt the pain of his death, the severing of ties that came from such an execution as him. It was without care, without honor... Errol would carry the memory of him, as a powerful warrior.

Those thoughts were not all that had haunted her though. How had she even gotten here? Errol remembered little of her last coherency's events, but as she gazed around this deer skin tent, she was coming to remember that the enevitable had happened. Her kin had come to her aid last night, although she knew very well that leaving the safe guard of the Ancient Forest was strictly forbidden. Her capture had come from her trailing the outskirts alone. To know that her warriors had come for her, however flattering that was, was utterly stupid. Where Lyra and the Lycan elders were kind and loving, law had to be obeyed, and it was now known that there would be consequences to pay for such an act. Despite that, Errol could still see the last memories running through her mind. Those sky creatures had come down from the clouds, from the grey blue blanket to punish that warrior of Dragon and Mortal. She had no other way to put it, for the utter insignificance of her kin had been easily seen in such an affair. Who was that man of scale and bone, of whom she had met? This Savior of the Slaves? She had little idea other than his appearance. He had been a powerful creature, rivaling the skills of the Lycan themselves, yet the sorrow and anger the mortal had held were beyond comprehension. Those Sky Creatures though, whoever they were, were the true monsters here though, even if Errol could not full remember the events of that day... Her kin had been lucky to get away, although she knew... She could feel, that not everyone had made it to safety.

And with that, her prayers continued for the Lycan that had been lost, even for the mortals who had been annialated by their false, angry Gods. Who would worship such even beast. Errol would not dare commit her soul into the hands of such being who saw their masses as nothing but insolent worms. How many lives had been lost?... Countless, mortal and Lycan alike. She would pray for them all and carry all of their souls to the salvation of the Moon Goddess... She would at least find mercy upon them.

"This was a fools errand Gerath, you risk too much!"

She could hear the voices of her kin just outside the tent. Her assumptions were proven correct then... Why had they come for her, knowing that they not only risked their lives, but their place within the pack. Errol knew her postion amongst her brothers and sisters. She had enemies... possibly too many to count due to her utter disregard for the Lycan way. She went against the grain, a rebel amongst conformers, yet that had earned her approval from Lyra herself. She was Lyra's right hand, her mighty fist. Her howl signalled the masses, for she did not even have answer to the elders. It was Lyra whom she spoke to, answered to, which could easily anger many of her kin. She was an untouchable, an unmateable, and an undesirable. Too much of a man, but too much of a woman to ever have full respect. Even if she held power and honor, she could easily see why many would not go out of their way to rescue her... Many would probably rather see her dead to hold her position...

"We had to save her. For Lyra. Errol is a special creature to our lady of the Moon.. there was no better choice."

That husk of a voice was one that Errol could pick out of any crowd. Gerath... the strongest and most honored of the Young Lycan. He was to be Lyra's chosen mate; however, things could easily change with this situation at hand. Why had he risked his postion... his future in the clan for her sake? It was true that Lyra and Errol were closer than whatever he would ever be with her, but... He risked too much... far too much and Errol could never forgive herself, or him for such an act, no matter how brave it was. It was anger she felt now, knowing that her kin had come to her aid and knowing that they would more than likely be an outcast to clan once they returned. It was sickening to think such a thing, but Errol knew the Lycan way...but with the knowledge she not held... the danger she had seen last night... The Pack would need all of their able bodies... They could not lose anymore than they already had.

Thus, it was with a heavy heart that Errol finally rose up, body stiff with the after effects from tansfermation, as well as the pain from her received injures, yet nothing was no longer fatal. She could move and that was the best she could make out of anything at the moment. Her brothers had bandaged her wounds, even took the time to bring her fresh clothing to change into, which she took full advantage of, covering that long, lithe form under leathers and furs. Her expression was stern, yet that was not much different that how she usually was, but today... her soul was weighed greatly with her thoughts. She had a heavy burden to carry, but she hid it under that emotionless fascade, pushing aside the tent curtains to welcome the air, yet her presents had alerted her men, who all seemed to jump with a start, fastest being Gerath.

How long had it been since she had seen the faces of her kin, Errol barely able to hold back the emotion she felt under that stern stare, yet she let it soften despite herself, head falling out of respect for those amongst her. "I feel no hunger, Gerath, although weary as I am..." Her gaze flicked up, pale stare running over the faces of the remaining Lycan amongst her. She knew them all well, taking in the solumn expressions on their faces before her eyes came back to look at the strongest. She wanted to hit him for his idiocy, but for the sake of the others, she did not dare speak on the subject, instead moving forward, be it not as strongly as she was known for, to slowly lower herself near the fire. The orange immediately illuminated the hard lines of her face, the shadows creasing into the sharp angles there. The blue of her face paint glowed slightly, like that of her brothers around her, whom stared in silences, as though waiting for her to speak. She had no words for a moment, only gazing darkly into the fire, letting the somber nature be felt for a moment. She swallowed for a moment, for she had so much she knew she wanted to say, yet there was no way to do it now, simply letting the silence hang in the air for now... Her words did come after a moment, gaze rising from the fire to glance over her kin. "You have all been brave... I do not think I can express my gratitude enough to any of you..."
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