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Post by Lucien Lachance on Oct 13, 2009 23:43:57 GMT -5
Luke chuckled ad smiled then gave a small nod. “its okay boy your alright.” he smiled with a light nod. “safe for now.” he boasted then brushed back his hair and stretched his arms up and yawned boldly. Then blinked as he watched the wolf go lay down on the sheet and smirked lightly before heading over also. He tossed a few more pieces of dried meat to him before plopping down, though quickly regretting it, forgot this was the hard ground not the semi-soft bed at home. He chuckled embarrassedly and rubbed his bum.
Then laid back looking up at the night sky though the tree branches.
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Post by BlackRose on Oct 14, 2009 9:26:40 GMT -5
Iason chuckled at the human, amusing as he was. some most humans were contemptible but this one hmm he liked this one. smelled good. he laid his head down pretending to sleep. listening to the forest at night. one was because he honestly couldn't sleep it was a wonderful clear night, perfect for running. and two he was worried those hunter's would be back, he did not have the strength or the energy to fight that large group again.
he looked at the human he was small compared to him, he was lucky the human didn't recognize he had a werewolf with him. well what probably helped is he preferred to always be on fours and so he probably didn't look like any werewolf he guessed but if he stood up.... he smiled to himself and twitched his ears.
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Post by Immortal Swine on Oct 14, 2009 13:50:11 GMT -5
Masser and Secunda shun upon the Anvil plains, the scent of salt water swept across the Werewolfe's face. The scent of food was also across her face. Marauders, nearby, four of them. Eating their fill of food and beer and ale. Drunkards, but nevertheless delicious. The Black Werewolf raced across the fields, the tall grass brushing against her fur. Her teeth ready for attack, her claws prepared to scratch. Fort Sutch was very close. Their scent was getting stronger. The wind swept their scent to her snout, flesh mixed with alcahol, as well as another scent that she knew it was familiar. Another Werewolf, her companion, friend, lover. Also was nearby. She went to him.
As she ran with full speed, she got closer to him. The gray Werewolf stood over the hill, the moons shining upon him. His eyes red and fearsome, opposed to her sulfiric yellow eyes. The Black Werewolf opened her mouth to speak.
"I have found them outside. Nearby, an ancient fort. Four of them. A Argonian, two Imperials and a deliciously smelling breton" She barked, pulling her head back, sniffing the air and sighing seductively. The gray Werewolf nodded his heavy head, baring his teeth. "The ones in the cave to the east? What about them?"
The female Black Werewolf paced around heavily, impatient, until she stood up on her two paws. "Insufficient." she snapped.
The male Werewolf shook his fur coat and sniffed the air again. "Lets get going" he hissed, immedietly jumping down the grassy hill and running towards his prey. They were perhaps a few miles off, maybe one or two miles. However, they were too drunk to even run away. Chances are, they probably slept as the two beasts made their way to their fort.
The night sky was fresh and a bit cold. The waves could be heard far off. The life in Anvil was a good one. "Hehe! you ever read the Lusty Argonian made?" shouted the male Imperial.
The Breton chugged a bottle of ale and then belched loudly. "Who hansn't? a good book..very funny" he said, pulling the bottle tip to his mouth. The female Imperial sat on the ground, near the tall grass. She began to cut the stolen boar meat into a few chunks, using her steel knife. "Typically male." she complained. "I am just glad I have a female outside with me. Isn't that right. Sheehaza?" she asked he female Argonian.
"Dont get too confortable" The lizard woman warned. "Im going inside, its boring out here". ~~~~ The gray Werewolf raced the Black Werewolf to the Fort, a little fun before the meal. "Getting slow, old dog" she barked, her tail in his face, she was gaining speed, faster than him. He growled and shoved his body against hers. Pushing her away.
"You are loosing your speed. Better quicken your pace" he warned, baring his teeth in a smiling fashion. The Black Werewolf growled and continued to push harder until they got there to the Fort. The Black Werewolf winning.
"Even with you cheating, I still won" she snorted.
"I dont recall ever having rules" he said, sneaking in the grass. "Quiet." he added as they both stalked the prey. They remained still. The Imperial female cutting the delicous boar meat. The male Imperial reading a book and laughing simoultaneously. The Argonian female was heading to the door of the Fort while the Breton fell to the ground, soaking his face with beer and ale. The Black Werewolf looked at the Grey Werewolf. It was time to eat.
"
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Post by Lucien Lachance on Oct 14, 2009 21:14:39 GMT -5
[sorry Draken not so sure how to reply to your post but I’m not ignoring ya ^^; just so ya know lol but good post.]
Luke finely had fallen asleep turning over on his side, it wasn’t cold enough for cover though, as he took deep breaths not quite snoring but with his mouth open could hear his breathing. Honestly he hadn’t thought twice about helping a wounded ‘animal’ though really sometimes a bad idea sometimes not, maybe Luke just had some dumb luck today.
He groaned twisting over to lay on his other side. He remained like that for a while before twitching his eyebrows, maybe as if having a dream. The dreams came and wet but were all the same….of that fateful day years past…. He was running chasseing his sister into the endless black abyss…. The faster he ran after her the further she ran….and would keep running….until he was left alone…all alone again….
[sorry so short[
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Post by BlackRose on Oct 14, 2009 22:12:39 GMT -5
Iason looked at the human as he slept it didn't seem to be a good dream. he crawled closer to the human to give him some comfort it was the least he could do for the man. he had settled down again when he almost jumped he smelt them. other wolves three of them one closer than the other two, and the one kept coming closer.
Iason knew that scent it was very, very familiar. but he couldn't remember from where. he jumped up on his three legs snarling as the werewolf came closer coming into sight range. the wolf was grey almost solid if it wasn't for the fact the maw and paws were white. and gold eyes looked at him in rage, his brother.
"brother?" Iason said which was a grumble. he was wary his brother never liked him much...
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Luke Heather Valtrie
Novice
Impeiral Blacksmith
"And they Said i wouldnt amount to anything!" XD
Posts: 10
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Post by Luke Heather Valtrie on Oct 14, 2009 22:31:23 GMT -5
Luke lay there still back facing ‘fuzzy’ suddenly green eyes popped open, but then relaxed as if he were used to this routine. Though he felt something else was a bit…. ‘off’ so just laid still a moment, but rested his eyes assuming it was nothing but remained listening to the quite that surrounded him. Though heard his new friend moving, he just didn’t think much of it less he started drooling and hanging over him….er but for now all seemed alright.
[shoot me x.x]
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Post by Immortal Swine on Oct 15, 2009 9:08:07 GMT -5
(OOC:My post is not to be replied..lol. I am just writing a certain intro for my Wolfie characters, then we can meet up somewhere, Anvil city maybe or just in the field)
The Gray Werewolf stood hidden behind the tall grass. His back narrowed, his eyes determing which prey he would attack. The Argonian, the Imperials or the Breton. The Breton opened his beer filled mouth to tell another joke. "Hehe, Ever heard this one?"
"How is your wife," asked Zalither. "She's in bed with laryngitis," replied Harlyth. "Is that Argonian bastard back in town again?" The Breton laughed. The Argonian female frowned.
"Very funny.." she hissed. "I got one for you" she added.
"During the War of Betony, the Bretons in the Isle of Craghold were under siege for several days. After the island was liberated, Lord Bridwell found the ruins of the castle where a crowd of survivors were hidden away in the dark. It was going to be a difficult job freeing them, as part of the roof had collapsed trapping them all within. Bridwell stuck his head in the only opening and shouted to the Bretons below: "Are there any expectant mothers down there?"
"It's hard to say, your Lordship," said a young woman. "We've only been down here for a few days."
The two Imperials started to laugh loudly. "I guess she out joked you" he said.
Suddenly, a male Orc came out of the fort, wearing an array of animal skins and fur, boots and gloves made from Wolves, bears and Mountain Lions. "Shut up, all of you. I can hear you from inside!. I am trying to rest and you are suppose to keep watch, and not let anyone hear you!" he complained.
"Next person I hear make another stupid joke, I will shove my boot down your throat."
"Relax, Eye bringer, we are just having a bit of fun" said the Breton.
"Hmmph I --" The Orc said, then paused, looking everywhere. "I smell something" he said, pulling out his iron claymore. The Argonian pulled out her bow and the Imperials their weapon's while the Breton took a club from the ground, holding it in his left hand while his right hand harbored a Mace.
`````` It was time to attack, The gray Werewolf studied their weapons, looking for silver. None, except for the boots on the Imperial male and the small blade hidden in the boot of the newly arrived Orc. The gray Werewolf was tempted to snarl angrily, for he saw something very disturbing. Wolf pelts, sewn together and mixed with with another source of Wolf skin.
Wolves are usually hunted for sport, for their skins, to protect livestock, and in some rare cases to protect the inhabitants of Tamriel. Historically, the hunting of wolves was a huge, capital and manpower intensive operation, requiring miles of netting, specialized net-carts and big drying sheds for storing and drying nets. The threat wolves posed to both livestock and people was significant enough to warrant the conscription of whole villages under threat of punishment, despite the disruption of economic activities and reduced taxes. The Black Werewolf saw it also, she growled silently..her kind was being hunted, just for her being who she is. The gray Werewolf bit the Imperial woman who sat near the tall grass, the one who was sharpening her weapons and cutting into a large piece of boar meat. The Black Werewolf bit her on the shoulder, teeth clamping down on soft exposed tissue of flesh. With one pull, the Imperial woman was dragged to the tall grass, the fire from the camp fading away from her sight. All was heard was the shout and screams of despair and ripping of flesh as the Black Werewolf chowed down on her first victim. The Male Imperial shouted desperatly in fear and anguish. "NO!" he said, running into the field to chase his companion and to kill whatever took her. The Argonian, the Breton and the Orc proceeded to follow them until something jumped from the grass right infront of them. A gray Werewolf, a creature of pure nightmare. His heavy mane covering his massive body, muscled arms and strong teeth. His teeth was what stroke true fear. Large teeth, blazing fearsome eyes. A man, a beast, a Werewolf!.
"A little late to be telling jokes, dont you think?" he snarled, his voice deeper, changed by the tranformed and strong vocals. Anger rose up on him, pure and clean, sweeping up all other concerns aside, he attacked the drunk Breton first, leaping in the air, claws stretched forward to kill. The Breton swung his blade, nearly getting his ear, but he was too fast for him, besides, he was drunk anyways to react. A swift slash across his bare chest immobilzed him for the moment. The breton fell the the ground, twitching as blood ran from his chest, a three clawed scratch on his chest.
The hunting patern was unkown to the mortals. The Black Werewolf lured the prey away from each other while the Gray kept them from teaming up. Them seperated is better than them all together. A fatal mistake they played, a smart hunting technique. The Gray Werewolf snarled over at the Orc, wearing the animal outfit. "Your hunting days are over, Orc. The hunter has fallen to its prey."
The Orc swung his weapon, growling. "Kill the beast!" he shouted, ordering the Argonian to fire her arrows. The Gray Werewolf paced around, attempting to confuse the Orc. Suddenly, another scream was heard. The male Imperial was also attacked by the other beast. Only two left, one injured & drunk to do anything. The Argonian pulled back the string, aimig at the Werewolfe's head. The arrow flew through the air, piercing the beast on its shoulder. The creature let out a angry growl and snarled at her. Which one would he attack first?
The Orc, who had his weapons out or the Argonian, who could inflict minimal damage with her insignifficant arrows. He could not underestimate both of them. "Go warn the others" The Orc shouted. "They are deeper in the fort!. Go!"
The gray Werewolf backed away, jumping back into the tall grass. Hidden away by the night. The Orc looked around. "Where did you go?" he asked himself.
The Argonian was startled at first, then she complied by heading towards the Fort entrance. However, she froze when she saw the shadow of the beast go over her. He was ontop of the broken stone of the fort. Before she could reach for another arrow, the Werewolf leaped on her. Impaling his large claws on her chest, then face. He started to chew violently, tugging at her leg, then at her arm.
The Orc spat out a battle cry and ran towards the gray animal that was tearing through the Argonian. Until the Black Werewolf emerged again from the tall grass, atlast showing itself. The Black Werewolf barked, opening its fang filled mouth. Her eyes yellow as the twin moons.
"You're a big one..you'll be hard to digest" she snarled.
"I hate to be such a burden" the Orc replied.
The gray Werewolf finished chewing on the Argonian, for now. He kept his gaze on the single Orc, outnumbered and having no strength to kill them both..he was good as dead. Both Werewolves charged at him. The Gray Werewolf leaping in the air, while the Black one ran across the dirt. On instict, the Orc slashed at the nearest animal, which was the male Werewolf. The claymore, slashed across its thick chest, spewing blood. The animal whimpered and fell over on its back, only to be back on his paws a milisecond after. The Black Werewolf crouched down;using her back paws to propell her upwards, she lunged forward, tackling the Orc from the stomack, and pinning him down to his back. The gray Werewolf joined in and began to bite at him. First, biting his weapon's arm, then biting at his leg, attepting to sever the boot from his foot, the boot which held the silver blade. The Orc punched the Werewolf a few tmes in the snout but it did not help. The Black Werewolf reared up and howled in the moonlight, loudly. A triumphant howl that scattered everywhere. The gray Werewolf clamped down on the Orc's legs, dragging him away from the Fort. While the Black Werewolf stayed behind, seeing which one she would actually begin to eat. They could not stay in the Fort, more enemies were inside and they would soon be out due to all the commotion. SHe chose the wounded Breton and dragged him out into the field, using her teeth. By the time the living allies of the Marauders would come out, the Werewolves would be good as gone.
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Post by BlackRose on Oct 15, 2009 10:28:23 GMT -5
Iason stayed at a crouch one he was worried about his brother and two he did not wish to wake the human yet who apparently had a hold on him in his sleep…he could feel drewl on his fur…he was going to let that slide.
“Why brother it seems you have become a house pet…” the other wolf chuckled with a growl.
“No, just a repayment for kindness” Iason’s growled back not at all sure what his brother was going to do. He honestly didn’t think he could take his brother. He broken leg was making its self known for he was standing strange.
His brother was pacing in front of him growling he knew what he was going to do. But when he was going to do it was the other story. Iason didn’t have to wait long as Dieter leapt at him claws and fangs bared. Iason’s snarled as he let his brother come at him catching him easily.
Dieter was on the ground sooner than he could blink and was furious. Iason looked down at him snarling. “I am sick of you! I have been mourning you for the past 25 years along with our pack! And now you are alive? And attacking me? I should kill you and be done with it!” he snarled he teeth glistening and the thing that stood out from his fur his older twin noticed while he looked up at him was the white stripe of fur obviously covering the scared closed eye. Iason started to put pressure on Dieter’s throat when he bite his wounded leg causing Iason to yelp giving dieter the time he needed to get up, there fight began a new.
They bite, and clawed at each other snarling and snapping there maws at each other Iason sharing a few new tears in his coat and Dieter had his far share. Dieter snarled and left with his tail between his legs. after a particularly strong smack across the face from Iason's good clawed paw like hand.
Iason stood there panting it had been a long time since he had faced another werewolf in combat of any kind… looked at the sky dawn was literally an hour a way. He dropped himself to the ground tired this night was rather…eventful he turned to check on the human.
he noticed no moon in the sky as his body contracted with pain, the bones shifting, cracking and replacing themselves as the transformation from wolf to human happened. not nearly as painful as to the wolf as everything was shrinking. Iason groaned in pain none the less as he knelt on the ground grasping his arm.
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Post by Immortal Swine on Oct 15, 2009 21:30:17 GMT -5
As dawn arrived, the two Werewolves prepared for rest, but they had to finish eating. The Black Werewolf started to tugging at the entrails of the Breton male, she was halfway done. Nothing left but a few pieces of flesh on his bones and a few shredded cloth and ripped armor. The meal for the night was delicious, but somewhat unsatisfactory. Only three kills and one actually was devoured. A waste of life, as the gray Werewolf would of put it. But they were in danger and they marauders were a thread. The Werewolves had to eat and they had to defend themselves. Tommorow night, is different. she needs to hunt innocents at least twice a month -- more precisely, every fifteen days & tommow, would be the beginning. It gray Werewolf was slightly more bothered by it, but he had to survive, Werewolves do not need to attack and devour humans to survive, however they are weakened if they dont. . The gray Werewolf gnawed at the Orc's legs, swallowing it, large piece by large piece until there was a messy leftovers all around. Dawn was coming, they needed rest. The BloodPack are in Bruma, The gray Werewolf allowed Nomak to look over the rest while he and the Black Werewolf searched for a better place to rest. Bruma had deers, sheep and occasional people to dine on. The cold was never really a bother, but the snow was. Paw prints could be easily left behind, occasionally leading angry mobs of villagers or worse; Werewolf hunters. Tommorow, innocents would have to be hunted down and killed. Just another downside to the curse. The marauders that died were not innocent, no, they kill for money, they plunder, rob, slaughter. Nothing innocent about them.
Both Werewolves had blood stained mouths and fur, both from injures and injures inflicted on enemies. Their teeth, clotted with the flesh of the marauders. The moons were lowering, vanishing. Rest was required for the long night ahead. Anvil is a perfect place to rest, the ships harbored, the Inns are great.
"We should rest soon, get ourselves cleaned up before sunrise" The Black Werewolf growled.
The Gray Werewolf nodded in agreement. He led the way, towards the city of Avil. The Black Werewolf stopped in her tracks, her ears perked up. "You hear that?" she asked.
The gray Werewolf kept walking on his four legs, without looking back at her. "No.."
"I hear it..it sounds like another of us.." The Black Werewolf said
"Unlikely." He added
"But possible" She said.
"We dont have time to search for others, we must rest until the afternoon. We will follow their scent later. Perhaps, if they are not hostile, they would like to join us" The gray Werewolf barked.
The Black Werewolf growled silently. "Where are we going to rest?"
"I know just the place, follow me?" The gray Werewolf said.
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Post by Lucien Lachance on Oct 16, 2009 23:59:14 GMT -5
Luke had jumped up soon as he heard speech, what in the name of the Nine was going on!? Assuming he’d bit off more then he could chew this time he scooted as far back as he could and drew some hunting knife he had hidden away. “what is going ---!?” his eyes widened as they lunged at each other, fighting… fighting to kill! but why!?
He could only watch in Horror as the not-so-ordinary-’wolves’ tried to kill one another, feeling he should run, and help at the same time he was nearly glued to that spot. He god up to run finely, since his vocal cords didn’t seem to be working but suddenly tripped and fell with a thud, and few shouts before looking back up toward the fighting beasts. Werewolves….well he’d never guessed he thought they were just myth…folklore…and what not. that’s what he was thinking and soon enough had a lone man howling in pain, human once again.
Luke groaned holding his bleeding leg….‘note to self: don’t run with knives’ he thought to himself then looked toward the man green eyes wide with fear and confusion. “A-are you alright….” he asked he honestly couldn’t think of anything else to stay, DUH he wasn’t alright….nor was this something to be so freaking calm about!
Luke shifted getting up standing on his knees. “What just….” he looked down then back toward him knife ready. “who are you!?” he shouted then paused seeing the man’s wound and gritted his teeth clutching the knife tightly he suddenly stabbed it into the tree and took a few steps toward him with a sheet the wolf-man could use of bandages or something. “here…” he said taking a deep shaky breath.
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