The Silver Eyed Fox King.

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by The Fox and The Spider, Oct 7, 2012.

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    The sheer winds of hibernal hell pierced the wooden cabins which sprawled the vast town of Icestone village. A reminder that winters frigid kiss had finally fallen on the realm. Blankets of winters first snow covered the once bountiful rolling hills. Burying them under it's weight. Within it's capacious woodlands of now frozen trees could be found corpses of the empires finest soldiers. The once sight of atrophy forgotten as it's influence became faltered under the storm call. The whistling of the wind infiltrating the local tavern as it seeped through the cracks within the logs. The crackling fire providing a moments relief from lady winters bane as the locals and the remaining empires soldiers attempted to warm themselves with mead. Silence gripping their hearts and minds as morale had begun to fall. Hope shattered by the empires thus far unsuccessful campaign to claim the northern territories.

    The woeful spell was woven by the hands of the resistance. A group of men cursed yet blessed with the spirits of animals. Possessing the harrowing ability to transcend the limitations of man by calling on their mutated and foul souls. Materializing their powers into our world through an unfathomable transformation process. Which most considered sacrilegious as well as proof of heresy against the new and old Gods. These beastkin were led by a man most knew only as the silver eyed fox king. A devil which only revealed itself twice since the start of the war. Both times taking out entire platoons single handedly. Turning the tides of battles which once seemed promising for the empire. Despite his intervention no one had a solid description of his beast form let alone his human shell. However one thing was known. He never harmed the locals nor would he harm the enemies soldiers which served a pure logistical aspect. Which was more then what most could say for the empire. As a result he has become a sort of hero. The local bards daring to sing romantic psalms of praise despite the persecution they would receive from the empire for doing so.

    There amongst the soldiers and locals which were sulking within the tavern. A wolf in sheep's clothing could be found. Clad in fine furs to ward off the cold. His hair blonde and his eyes a deep cerulean blue. His face masculine and rugged and rather attractive for a traveler who traversed these hostile lands. Clearly he was of northern descent, as far north as north could be. Even the way he supped his liquor was foreign to that of the cosmopolitan empire and those which have embraced their way of life. Forsaken their mighty culture in exchange for the illusion of safety via stone walls and armed guards would provide against the realm. A heavy sigh parting from his lips as he now stared deeply into his empty glass. He found the local scene to be far more morbid then expected. Which only portend well for his cause.

    Little did the locals know, that this man which has been resting here since the storm. Was the famous silver eyed fox king. A man with a bounty exceeding the worst war criminals or serial killers which now scourged the world. Oddly enough, nothing about him clamored royalty. The way he carried himself was that of a peasant or farmer. His hands that of a man who battled the harsh clime. Even his eyes seemed tired, tired of death and blood like all warriors who bloomed. "Please, may I have another?' His accent thick. The manner in which he spoke honeyed and well composed. Contrasting his warrior charisma. Hinting toward a cunning and intelligent nature One not shared by most who live by the blade.
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    Kalea served the man another drink. She eyed him warily with his blond hair and blue eyes. He looked young but she’s known not to let appearance fool you of one’s true age; she herself was not as young as she looked. She looked outside where the snow has covered the whole village. Perhaps it was time for her and her brother to move to a new location. Winter’s frozen hands has reached this beautiful area of lush greens as well and it was did not bode for dragon siblings very well.

    She wished no part in any sort of war. However her older brother always seeks it, the same way he seeks revenge. Kalea has done whatever it was in her power to keep him from joining the ranks of dead flesh and bones. They were going to get their revenge in time. But of course, being her brother, stubbornness was in his blood. He now seeks the heads of those who has a bounty upon them but she has no worries. He was a skilled warrior after-all, having been the best in their tribe.

    The night was getting weary and still, the murmur in the tavern has yet only to die down to a very lulling manner. She was probably going to have to stay up again tonight. She sighed, wiping down the area at the bar that another man has recently vacated. She blew off the strand of red hair that escaped the confines of her hair tie. Her uncanny brilliant ruby eyes did not hide her desolation. She wanted to be back in their small cottage already to see their dragons. They were still very young, having only been rescued as eggs when the empire has sacked them and killed their dragons to create better armor and to use them during warfare. Master-less dragons are just mindless beasts seeking to destroy and burn. One day, Kalea and Aedan will take back their dragons and their tribe’s former glory.
  3. The silver eyed Fox kings eyes would drift from one patron to the next. The empires hounds were fresh boots. Their faces filled with dispiritedness, yet still enshrouded with the fresh spices of the south's spring. An aroma Kirk knew almost as well as the frigid air of the north. It was clear they had yet to acclimatize to the cold unforgiving frozen tundra's of the north. Nor were they psychologically prepared for an encounter with his kind. Their leaders were strong and experienced in combat, however despite their prowess one corrosive agent ate away at the chains they viewed as imperious. That being the fear and inexperience of their troops. Something which would cost them dearly in the coming battle. T

    his epiphany evoked a soft chuckle parting from his lips as his arches began to curve. A smile now plastering itself on his rugged face. His right hand would gently rub against his cheek as his gaze found it's way toward the female. His nostrils flaring as her scent proved alien. It was not that of the north; nor was it like that of the flowery south. An enigma which only caused her to stand out in his eyes as a person of engrossment. Her mere presence served as an unknown factor if combat should erupt in these streets. She carried about her a meek strength. One which reverberated from her aura to his own. Wiping the smile off of his face.

    The silver eyed Fox King had yet to sense the subsistence of her sibling. One which aura's was of total contrast to that of his sister. The blonde hair cerulean eyed male would rise from his nested position. Weaving subtly between the multitude of customers seeking warmth at the bottom of a bottle. Abruptly halting as he now stood across from her on the other side of the counter. Casually he would take root on the vacant worn stool. "Miss, if it is not too much trouble may I have a glass of you finest whiskey please?" He would call out to her rather politely.

    His approach straying from that of the soldiers which thought themselves as deserving handouts from the local populace. Who without class or thought; wouldn't refrain from groping the local women. " My name is Kirk, I am son of the snow. And was once a humble farmer. I can tell you are not from around these parts. Nor do you have the accent of the south about you. If I may ask without coming off as rude or insufferable....Where do you hail from?" Something about the way he posed and uttered his words seemed an oxymoron. It was drenched in both humility yet carried about it a natural sense of authority. As if he were a born charismatic leader...or a silver tongue insipid viper. Pending on one's interpretation.

    Kirk knew that his sudden approach would cause a few bored and wandering eyes to wander his way. Even now he could few the judgmental eyes of a few soldiers barreling down on him. However he would show no sign whatsoever of being awareness of their idle thoughts. Rather they would simple phase through him. He was far too much of an venerable soul to permit such child antics to penetrate his thick skin. This being said he would exercise discretion; lest he entice too much attention and cause disbelieves, as well as unwanted questions to be propelled his way. For though he tried his best to blend in, a few subtle contradictions could become apparent if one possessed a keen enough attention to detail.

    He referred to himself as a son of the snow. A term used by traditional northerners. Most of which were rebels or sympathized for them. Both of which were considered treason and punishable by death by the empire's laws. The other detail required a third eye. His aura was immense, far too potent and complex for a simple farmer or human. His scent was not like that of a human. However one's sense of smell would have to be as strong as that of a blood hounds to detect this.

    Truthfully he doubt any of these mere rank and file soldiers would take note of this inconsistencies. However this female could, or even worse her brother. Assuming either one tarried the potential or care to take notice. As he waited for a reply his third eye would wander. It was at this time he felt another presence. Whose scent was align with that of this woman. Calmly he would turn his head as if looking toward the door. In truth he was trying to scout out the source.

    This raised a few bells, what if this woman was a bounty hunter of sorts? One who didn't work alone? If this proved true then things could become sticky very fast. And so caution should be officated. Additionaly Kirk would tread lightly. Unlike the female this one seemed more rash and aggressive by nature. It seemed to thirst for blood. A sign of youth when it comes to combat. Any experience fighters hunger for blood and steel would be sedated. Still this did not mean he was void of experience or skill.
  4. She eyed the blond man warily but paid no special attention. There were a lot of travelers in these parts of the world and it was better if she stayed away from them. Kalea simply poured him whiskey and answered. “That’s the best we got here. Nothing special around these parts, pretty boy.” She knew there was something different and strong about him. And it was deadly. Whoever this man was, she wanted him out before her brother’s return. Surely, Aedan would be curious and she could not know what could possibly happen should that occasion arise.

    She saw the men around the tavern look up from their conversation. She hated it when they did that. Words travel fast and she did not like the way they morph into. Kalea’s red eyes glared at him when he asked where she was from. But she controlled herself and worked on cleaning some of the glasses on the counter. “Just a traveler, hailed from nowhere. What interest is it to you?”

    But before he could answer the door of the tavern’s entrance opened, a fairly well-built man entered, allowing the sound of harrowing snow from the outside to enter the tavern. He shook the snow off his large coat as he opened it up, revealing his simple leather clothing. He sent off an aura of authority and softness, but also of danger and safety.

    This time though, Kalea sensed trouble coming up their way.

    Aedan looked up, the usual kindness in his almost brown eyes replaced by something more feral, more dangerous. “The lady asked you a question, stranger. What interest is it to you?” Kalea could sense trouble before it even reaches its destination and she did not like where this was going. Aedan had the tendency to become overprotective and she could not blame him. He wasn’t there when the empire annexed their whole kingdom, finding Kalea close to being killed as their parents bled beside her. Ever since then he had sworn upon his blood and sword that no harm shall come to his blood, even at the cost of his own.

    “Brother, you must be thirsty.” Kalea brought a cup of ale and settled it on the table, urging Aedan to sit and calm down, although that’s nearly impossible. When she saw that he wasn’t moving, she spoke again, this time with more persuasion in her voice. “Please, sit.”
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  5. One needn't be a monster to feel her uneasiness emitting from her body language. And though she strived to minimize the extent of it's potency. Her efforts would prove in vain. This woman not of the north nor the flowery south, seemed content on keeping secrets. And if there is one thing the silver eyed fox king knew to be true beyond a reasonable doubt; it was this. That everything kept in the dark will in due time be birthed in light. Those deep cerulean eyes of his would divert from this woman. Averting from her crimson hues and into the self intoxicating drink of choice. Her words still resonating within that labyrinth he calls a mind. Thoughts most of which idle and pure conjecture began to course through him. Not regarding her unwillingness to entertain him with some simple bantering. Rather due to the rush she seemed to be in to shoo him away like one would a fly.

    "Thank you miss." His eyed lids closing as he raised the glass to his lips. Allowing the warmth of the liquor to tingle his lips and warm his throat. Gently he would place the glass on the worn counter. His eyes exposing themselves once more. Though what he saw was hard to describe. He observed not her flesh and bone. Rather the troubled pattern her aura began to display. A complete shift from it's once calm and subtle appearance. "Everyone has a home. Even a pilgrim knows of a place where his heart belongs. It needs not be a building or a nation. But alas I meant no offense." He retorted her rudeness with kindness. His words as well posed as ever.

    It was at this time that the rash person he sensed from earlier would enter the scene. The door flying open as the hoarse whisper of frigid wind poured into the tavern. An unwelcome clamor for many of the patrons. With eyes closed once more, Kirk would listen as this man made his approach. The sound of his boots thumping against the wooden deck was something his keen senses couldn't miss. His stride riddled with a sense of purpose. But not one of a serene nature, rather that of a vengeful. He was a wolf, an alpha male of the pack. Who took it upon himself to safe guard others. No doubt in this case it would prove to be this strange woman. The passion in his words and stride began to paint a clearer and clearer image for him. Though these were but fragments, unintended cosmic dust tickling his senses.

    The silver eyed fox king was good at connecting dots. He was as cunning and observant as he was deadly and just. It wasn't often that something escaped his grasp. And though what he began to deduce or theorize wasn't solid as rock. He felt every little bit would help. A soft sigh parting from his lips as he thought to himself. "Child..." Turning to face the man now being pulled away by his sister. The tension between the two males could be felt by any and all who cared to take note. This interaction drew unwanted attention though no words were exchanged between the two.


    A woman with long brown hair with amethyst visored shielded eyes made her way down from the second floor of the tavern. Finding herself caught between both men. Her attire foreign to most, but familiar to Kirk. Her upper body clad in a pearl white over coat. Which clung tightly to her figure. Underneath she was adorned in a long black kimono. She was an enforcer, a human conceived by vile sorcery and alchemy, Her flesh though appearing human was fused with that of a fiend. Granting her abilities beyond that of any mere woman. "You two can quit your lovers quarrel." She spoke frigidly toward both Kirk and the other male "If you wish to act like children, then I will treat you like children." This woman, she spoke without any expression. a troublesome sign in Kirk's eyes.

    "What is a mutant like you doing here if I may ask?" Kirk would reply.

    The woman would ignore him, without so much as a twitch on her face. She would permit his words to phase through her. She would turn and make her way toward the brother and sister. "You have served these men well during these troubled times..." She spoke to Kalea. Her eyes then drifting to her brother. Those obscured eyes of hers seem to penetrate his flesh and survey his soul. "...for that you have my thanks. But these are trying times for wanders. If the cold or monsters don't kill you, suspicion will. I know the both of you are not part of this totem blight. But tread lightly less others act on foolish notions." A fair warning. One of the local drunks would step forward. "How do you know this?" The brown hair woman would turn to face him. "I can see a world you can only imagine. I do not see shapes or colors. I see souls. And everything has a soul no matter how small. Even the cells of your body are very much alive. So I can see the corrupt and true form of these beast kin."

    This trouble kirk. If she could truly perceive that much detail, even to such a small scale as one's cell then she had to be ranked high within the House of vipers. Offering a faint smile she would turn and look at Kirk. The soldiers morale and spirits rising from their gloom state. "She is one of those mutants. I heard they are mostly women gathered from orphanages as young children. Their bodies twisted by magic and their flesh and souls become one with monsters. Half human, half abomination. I don't like this. I don't like having one of her kind here." One of the Patrons spoke aloud. The rest of the locals whispering amongst themselves. They seemed gripped by fear.

    "And what is your name?" Kirk would ask. "Mitusawa, the house of vipers. Ranked number 4 out of 72 within the guild of enforcers." It was as Kirk feared. "Thankfully you're here. Things were looking grim." Kirk replied offering a half smile. "Pardon me." He would conclude before making his way toward the brother and sister. "I am sorry for coming off as rude. It was not my intent." The silver eyed fox king would bow, showing sincerity and humility. Mitsusawa's eyes would narrow as she observed Kirk. She wasn't sure why, but something about him was different. It wasn't like any normal totem beast kin. Which was causing her to second guess herself regarding who he truly was.

    "I suppose it take's a monster to kill a monster." An elderly man would whisper to his son. Mitsusawa's attention would dart his way. Her eyes locking with his own. It all made sense now..."I see..." Stepping forward she would close the distance between them. Her stride wide and bold, saturated with confidence and respect earned...never given. She stood but a foot or so from him, peering into his very soul. The young man would grab his fathers arm, trying to tug him away. But the elderly fellow was weighed down with fright. "One...two...three...There are three."

    In a single fluid motion she would draw both her blades. Teeth decorating both the back and front side of her weapons. Before the man or his son could register what was happening she would swing her blade. The speed of which was hard for the most to see. Only those with keen eyes for combat. The son would turn back to his father hearing the blade slicing through the air. "Father?" He asked. The old man looking at him and smiling before his face split in half across. The boy would fall back. Blood now staining his pants. "What the?" As he looked down he would notice his arm missing, still attached to his now dead father.

    A young woman rushing to his aid, holding him while he screamed. "There you are.." Darting toward them both, she would propel herself forward. Swinging her blade ground ward. The woman's arm changed to that of a reptile, blocking her attack. But the young man was not so lucky. The teeth of her blade sunk into his shoulder. "You dog of the empire!" The woman bellowed transforming into a lizard human hybrid. "I work not for the empire...but for myself." She would retort. "Gnaw..." She whispered lightly. The teeth of her blade began to vibrate at intenses frequencies and speed. Chipping away at both the young man and this womans flesh. Blood, flesh, bone and entralls would erupt from their bodies. Splattering across the scene. But whatever matter touched her broke down into a shimmering crimson light. Before being sucked into her weapon and body.

    Standing there amongst the morbid sight of once solid bodies resembling hamburger meat. The mechanical shrill of steel fricitoning against steel would be the only noise to break the silence which engulfed this establishment. Kirk dared not look back at the sight, for those were his scouts. Good men and woman butchered like animals. "I suppose he was right..." She would conclude, mocking his comment rearding a monster being needed to snuff another devils life.
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