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Post by BlackRose on Oct 28, 2009 18:43:36 GMT -5
He sat himself down under the tend with a plop he was soaked. he grumbled something about the weather always being rain in this part of the country. he blamed it on the swamps.
Iason sat there a moment before taking off his wet shirts, seriously times like these. he looked over to the bodies littering the camp. someone had come threw and killed apparently bandits. he was thinking about dragging the bodies to the Nibinean river. its not that Leyawiin stopped the flow of water at all.
he sighed he might as well do it so it doesn't stink the bodies are to old for anythign other than slaughter fish food...
Iason sat down one more time after he was done... the slaughter fish sure as hell enjoyed the meal. he sat in front of the large roaring fire that was situated in the camp. it was the middle of the day, he knew that. and the fire shouldn't feel so good but it was poring rain, and moved the large tent closer to the fire so some of the heat would warm his cloths. he had on a pair of pants he took form one of the sacks he found littering the place...they were a bit tight, but it would work till his own pants were dried. which they were almost dried. it wasn't the full moon just yet tonight but it was approaching. he could feel the thrum go threw him. sadly he missed having a pack, and that one man helped him, even though he knew what he was. his brother alive and wanting him dead over something so trivial...
and the blasted witch who helped him survive wasn't anywhere near here she was in hiding. they were still being persecuted. not all of them were 'evil' bu then again peoples conceptions of such things are ridiculous. he shook his head if they thought witches were evil he let out a wolfish chuckle. they had yet to truly encounter one of his kind.
he wondered if there were the citizens of leyawiin had ever met a werewolf before?
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Post by Immortal Swine on Oct 29, 2009 11:51:17 GMT -5
Man by day, bloodthirsty creature by the full moon. An attack by the Werewolf most surely ends in a savage death, although its bite can pass the curse to even the purest of man--tranforming him into a carnivorous fanged beast. The Werewolf abhors its monstrous form and repents from the nefarious deeds he has commited by night. These are the doomed ones, the ones who see the disease as a curse. There are ones, who learned to live with it, to use it for something else. Hercine may have created it to do his bidding, but I see it both ways"~Kraven Dessel
The downpour of the rain fell upon Kraven, his long hair dropping small drops of rain. The rain did not bother him as much. To him, it felt appropiate to get caught under the clouds..he was in a bad mood. Sadly..too much as been happening and more and more hunter's are on his tail. Memories flooded his mind just as the rain flooded the ground. Kraven dismissed the thoughts, he knew well to never look back..because the past is a wilderness of horror. Ahead, he saw a man guiding his sheep to the pen, due to the heavy rain, the man doubled his impatient efforts to quickly go back inside. Kraven smiled to himself. The man cares for his animals, just as Kraven cares for his pack. Kraven wore a Blacksmith's pants, a Highwayman's Shirt and Doeskin Shoes. Many call Kraven a poor man, a beggar, a savage poor insigificant nothing..thats what Kraven started out with, even at a young age when in slavery at Morrowind. But Kraven and few others knew well this is far from the truth. Kraven had alot of gold, alot of fancy clothing and outfit..fancy furniture and a ruined manor nearby. All these things meant nothing to him. Clothes were meaningless, they would rip apart every fullmoon or every time Kraven changes. That was a problem, this full moon, kraven was forced to kill many innocents as possible.
Besides the smell of sheep and mud and rain, something else was in the air. Death!. Kraven seeked out the smell of bleeding flesh, allowing the scent to guide him towards his wanted destination. Far off, Kraven saw a man dumping the bodies in the river. Did he commit them? Did he kill those men? What savagery is this!?. Kraven decided to take a closer look. Even if the man was dangerous and a threat, Kraven was able to hold his own. For he was gifted at birth by Hircine, the Daedric Prince of the Hunt, the father of Werecreatures and man beasts that roam every corner in Tamriel itself. Occasionally, Hircine called upon Kraven to use his Lycanthropy to fulfill his deeds. There are times when Kraven questions them without ever saying them, but he learned that whatever Hircine wiished, are the best.
Kraven saw the man placing his clothes near the fire, while his original ones soaked in the rain. Kraven sighed, thinking if he should say anything, but he did.
"Hello" Kraven said with a booming, manly voice. Worst than an Orc's shout of battle or war. Of course, Kraven did not really care if this man came across him when he turned into a Werewolf, but it never pained anyone to meet someone new..atleast to Kraven.
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Post by BlackRose on Oct 29, 2009 12:26:25 GMT -5
Iason looked up almost startled and saw another man standing there. he had been followed since he dumbed the bodies into the river. he wondred what or who it was.
"hello, to you as well." Iason said his voice sounted graty but not annoying more like the sound of a rumbled.
"if you are who or what was following me sense the river, i came upon the carcasses they were a few days cold. i figure before they could spread disease to let the fish have at them. " he said as he pulled over the measly sack of things he had. and pulled his shirt from the make shift line. the man sighed there were holes in it from his last fight with his brother. he looked to his arm, the scars were still slightly red. he just hoped he still had some thread and his needle still. he had to pick up sowing over the years no one else would help him or offer him a job.
"come sit by the fire dry off i am afraid i don't have anything extra for you to wear." he said as he started lookign for said needle and thread...it was gone. he'd have to find some latter in leyawiin after the rain. he sniffed his nose and smelt it, Iason lifted his head and looked at the man. was he a werewolf too? he didn't dare ask, afraid it could be a hunter's trick. a trick he learnt to avoid a few years back.
Iason rubbed his eye his scar hurt, ached. the damp weather of the swamp was irritating it. he should get an eyepatch for it seriously... he wondered if that was the reason everyone shunned him.
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Post by Immortal Swine on Oct 29, 2009 15:01:27 GMT -5
Kraven noticed the bodies floating far off, bandits by the looks of them. "Ah, Bandits. Their kind is in need of a desperate lesson in manners" Kraven chuckled. "Speaking of manners, where are mine? Forgive me. I am Kraven Dessel. It is a pleasure to meet you" Said Kraven. "I have not been following you"
Standing still, Kraven noticed something about this other man..he was touched! touched by the gifted claws of Hircine!. The man is a Werewolf. It has been a long time since he had seen new Werewolves around these areas, of course, Kraven kept to himself. Saying nothing about the stranger's other side. Kraven studied the man's wound, for they were fresh.
"Someone been altercating, have we not?" Kraven noted, taking a seat by the fire, shaking his wild hair around. "So, where are you from?" Kraven asked. "I have not seen you around these parts"
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Post by BlackRose on Oct 30, 2009 9:48:41 GMT -5
"excuse mine as well.. i am Iason." he said as he put the shirt in the tent behind him. slightly worried that his brother had been stalking him again, but he didn't think it was. it was probably some type of animal seeing if he would make a good meal.
"my brother.. dose not like me very much." Iason said othe subject of his wounds. "and where i am from... i wander too much to be from one place..." Iason seemed sad about that fact for a moment but it changed.
"at the moment i am wandering, finding a place to call home, so to speak. i am tired of finding places like this" Iason gestured to the camp. "that and i hate swamps..." Iason grumbled. he reached into his page and pulled outsome cured meats and bread.
"would you like some?" he asked as he offered some bread and meats to Kraven.
{{ooc: i am working on either the werelion or the hunter's appearence... might make it both jsut because...>3 i might edit the post later though i highly doubt it...>.>}}
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Post by Immortal Swine on Oct 30, 2009 12:06:00 GMT -5
Kraven started to throw rocks at the fire, listening to Iason speak. The man was undoubtedly lonely. The talk of family feud and brotherly squabbles also brought bad memories to Kraven's mind. Kraven grabbed the bread, thanking the man with a simple smile and head gesture. He threw away the bread and started to munch on the meat.
"We share the same mind, Iason. I am not very fond of this place either. You see, people like us, should not be running around swamps and muddy areas. The hunt is not enjoyable here. If you want swamps, go to the BlackMarsh" Kraven said. "Werecrocs swim around there. People like us" He finally said "Should be in the plains, forests or frozen places such as Bruma"
Kraven took another bite of the meat, tossing the dirty bread into the fire."I have a few people, I know you would like to meet. They are staying near Bruma, in the Jerall mountains. Its a pity I wont be there to join them tonight. Speaking of tonight, do you have any plans?" Kraven asked. It was the night of the full moon, the orange bright planetary object that will bring about the Curse of the Werewolf.
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Post by BlackRose on Oct 30, 2009 12:34:10 GMT -5
Iason looked at Kraven this one had a pack?! It made him happy there were always signs of werewolves in Cyrodiil but he never found them. It gave him some kind of hope, one could gather.
“a pack? I haven’t seen one in many years… but no I have no plans on tonight, except the normal which calls for it.” He said the rain had stopped but the air was thick and muggy. One could here the sound of bugs buzzing in the vicinity. Iason munched on the bread and meat. He had grown to like bread as times during the day it was all he could find. This werewolf was polite but he doubted all werewolves were like that, he could barely remember his time running and living with his pack. He himself was no longer the alpha of any pack, just a humble ‘mutt’ looking for scraps most the time.
“But ah if you’d like to hunt tonight I would be glad to join… if that what you’re asking?” Iason said as he ate his food. The fire cracking away killing the humidity near it, but not too far as it was a swamp.
---
Elsewhere not too far from the fisherman’s rock another creature of hircine was walking around in the day light. Though he himself was trying to loose the hunter on his trial, the said were creature was not happy. He growled to himself and wagged his tail, he smelt wet dog… or wet wolf if one was more inclined to saying. He then knew how to get he hunter off his tail… the Khajit proceeded to get to work.
---
the said hunter was not far from the were-lion when he found it markings on a tree. He looked at them looked like it was made by a young inexperienced were wolf. Those ones were easier to capture, kill and do whatever too. He changed his target, better to get something young and inexperienced than something obviously knowing what it was doing. The khajit were-lion could wait.
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Post by Immortal Swine on Oct 30, 2009 13:17:58 GMT -5
Kraven smiled widly. "I would be delighted". He said politely. Most Werewolves bore savage nature, insane lunatic and crazy attitude, Veronika is a good and prime example of this. Kraven is significantly more sophisticated than his fellow brethren. His species are not always civilized; mostly savage and animalistic. Ironically Kraven's former life as a servant to the slave owner in Morrowind is probably the reason for his greater sophistication. Always speak when spoken to, always bow down..always cower beneath the whip. Never speak to a noble or a rich person. Manners, manners, manners. Kraven learned that manners is a good thing, to some extent. Kraven broke the rules a few times, once by accident, when his Lycantrhopy started to birth within his system, Kraven dropped a large silver platter over all the nobles and Counts dining at the table, his hands burning. he was beaten for it and embarrased, but that was a long time ago.
Tonight was another of those nights. Hircine require more innocent souls. Kraven would attack them regardless, even most none innocents. Anything that was deemed and branded a threat would be torn apart by Kraven's mighty jaws. He could turn into a Werewolf during the day, sometimes. He did Hircine's bidding long enough to receive many rewards of the Prince of the Hunt himself. Despite this, kraven respects life, he respects himself. There would be no reason into turning now when he would turn automalically tonight. More people would be dead, more lives killed because one decided to turn into a Werewolf just for random fun. Veronika would do it, if she was hungry, she would turn that same second that her stomach rumbled. But she was young, a hundred years younger than Kraven. More injured people meant more Werewolves..more Werewolves led to more kills and murders, less food supply, more problems. Werewolf slayers, angry villagers or worse, Vampiric forces angry that their food is going to waste by careless actions of their counter-part legends of the cunning Night horrors. Werewolves, Liches and Vampires, the worst of creatures besides the Daedra to be encountered. Kraven was proud to be feared, and respected.
"Yes, my friend. A pack, only thirteen members. The rest either left or were slain. We stay around range in northern Cyrodiil. Skyrim borders on the north. It shares a border with the Colovian Highlands to the west, and the Great Forest and Nibenay Basin to the south. Food is more encountered there, deers, rabits, cattle. Anything in between, occasionally humans and mer. You should stop by some time, & consider joining us. We can always use an extra hand in the hunt and thrills." Kraven chuckled.
"I am partiallly glad we and few otherWerewolf packs run across Cyrodiil, it maintains the natural order of things. Too many Werewolves or Werecreatures can be a problem, hehe" Kraven said.
Kraven noticed the Iason's sudden interest in a pack. It looks like he was exiled or lost his own. Kraven was going to say something nice in regards to his lost or former pack, a word of encouragement, but Kraven was not sure about the situation or what really did happen, so he remained quiet.
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Post by BlackRose on Oct 30, 2009 14:55:31 GMT -5
“that would be nice… and I can see your point with too many around people tend to get…suspicious.” He wondered if that was what tipped the vampires off. Either that or most likely they saw it as an invasion of there territory…vampires were snooty like that. Well the ones he encountered were, like werewolves not all are the same.
Iason looked at Kraven he didn’t know weather to say anything he didn’t want to ruin his chances, as it was he felt guilty he failed his pack. But then again he wouldn’t really be in charge of anything this time would he?
“I wish it was a simple reason I am with out a pack… but it is simple if one isn’t thinking to hard on it… my family lead a pack for a long period of time and when my father was too old to lead he handed the reigns to me, and not my oldest sibling, or my older twin. That caused problems within our pack but I was able to resolve them… I think that what caused it I exiled my own kin and vampire’s and some were-hunters obviously employed by vampires. My pack and ‘me’ were slaughtered. Though a witch found me and healed me… I have been alone for almost 50 years wondering, killing hunters and trying to find a pack who would let me in even if I was low man... being a werewolf and alone isn’t right…” Iason stopped and let out a humorless chuckle... “Sorry to bore you… I don’t often have any one to talk too…”
---
the khajit climbed a tree waiting for the night to come, maybe he’d challenge a puppy? Who knew if there would be one alive after the hunter got threw with him.
---
the hunter quietly and carefully made his way along the water, when he saw carcass’ being eaten by slaughter fish.
“it isn’t far….” For the slaughter fish haven’t eaten more than 1/ 4 of the bodies. Though he wondered why a wolf would toss the bodies in the river… he pondered that while he crept threw the swamp of Blackmarsh.
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Post by Immortal Swine on Oct 30, 2009 15:30:37 GMT -5
"Oh no, not at all my friend. Your stories are interesting, as is your journey, through the darkest and yet brightest wilderness I call fate. I know, I suspected you wanted to be an Alpha male leading the pack, its your rightful destiny. Yes, I thought I was unable to lead until I proved myself before. I do understand what you mean. Perhaps, just maybe, we can do something, a negotation. I can aid you in a quest to find a pack, or those willing to join the cause of the Prince(Hircine). You said yourself you have been alone all these years. Maybe, I can aid you, both of us, with our combined strenghts, can find a solution. After all, I will do alot to help a brother and expand the gifted hounds that walk Tamriel."
Kraven raised from his kneed posture and raised his hands in the air, not really caring if anyone was looking. "Tonight! We shall have a feast, a celebration. Between newly aquianted and potential friends." Kraven said, looking down at Iason.
"Help you, I shall. Even if it means getting into trouble with anoter rival dog, such as your brother." He paused. "No offense, by the way. Family should never be fighting, at all. I learned this years ago, with a distant relative of mine..yes, almost a half a two centuries of fighting, I discovered my worst enemy, was related by blood. My mother, I do not know, my sisters, I do not know if they breathe. I hope to find out someday, its what keeps me going. I am not saying you will make an iron clad peace treaty with your brother, or twin. But if fate decides it so, then so it shall be"
Kraven ate the last of his meat and walked towards the edge of the lake to get a drink.
"I have no wish to remove one shackle from around your neck, only to replace them with one of my own. You can either accept my offer, or decline it. Either way, I will not mind, I respect your choice"
Kraven smiled, bending down to drink the water, cupping his hand and bringing water to his mouth. The waters of blackwood are nasty,, full of insects, disease filled water, but that was no problem at all. Lycantrhopes and Werewolves were immune to diseases. Helping other was something Kraven almost never did, unless they were his friends, allies, family or his kind. This man did need some help, although he could do it alone, Kraven offered some help. More Werewolves was not such a bad thing, they usually stalked Soltheism and other areas, not much in Cyrodiil. An extra pack would not be so harmful, Kraven would expand the hunting grounds and territory for each pack. No political squabbles and conflicts. Kraven wanted to do much before another Millenia came by, then he would gaher everyone to Soltheism for another Bloodmoon phrophecy. There was something, something bad..his Wolf sense tugged at him, something was wrong. Kraven reared his head, turning around, long hair spinning. They were being threatened, by someone. He did not know who or what, but it was a threar nevertheless.
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Post by BlackRose on Oct 31, 2009 23:46:09 GMT -5
Iason watched Kraven get some water. He honestly didn’t feel like running a pack anymore just wanting to belong to one again would be more than enough.
“I don’t think, running another pack is for me anymore. I am no longer as aggressive as an Alpha would need to be.” Iason mentally flinched not knowing if that was a good thing or bad thing. Iason looked to the horizon the moon was rising, it called and he felt it the madness... the one folly the said curse of the moon and hircine. The need to shed innocent blood a craving for said blood crawled up from deep within him. As the full moon revealed itself in full he changed.
One would think a werewolf would get used to the change eventually…but no. the change was still as agonizing as it was when the change first happens. And he had been changing since he was a ‘pup’. The only thing he didn’t have to do till he became of age… was the ‘innocent’ hunt, Well that was what his father called it.
Iason landed on all four paws with a growl panting as he adjusted to the fading pain. That when he smelt it… a cat! And the wretched disgusting scent of silver. A hunter was near and his black fading to silverish-grey fur bristled. And he snarled as said hunter walked into the small clearing with the fire.
----
the khajit dropped down to the swamp floor as the moon showed itself. The cat’s body changing growing larger, its face and fangs large and thick, the cats body more muscle and the end result looked like a overly muscled tiger… it would probably look more interesting if the said ‘humanoid’ form wasn’t a khajit.
-----
the hunter found him, but was too late to get the Werewolf in his moment of weakness, during the change. He saw the wolf this was no inexperience ‘pup’, but an older and smarter one. This was the one there were rumors about, the black and silver colored wolf with a white scar over his eye. That was huge the werewolf stood on all four paws obviously it was more comfortable on all four paws, and looked just as menacing. The hunter didn’t notice the other wolf just yet.
{{ooc: sorry so crappy…took me for freakin ever… were-lions I have no clue…}}
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Post by Immortal Swine on Nov 1, 2009 8:20:33 GMT -5
Kraven crouched nervously near the water, His stomach rumbled unhappily; His eyes were fixed on the full brown light and system knwn as Secunda, he waited apprehensively for what was to come.
He felt the full moon rising even before the first silvery beams invaded his body. His brown eyes dilated, shrinking down to yellow eyes. Blood pounded in his ears, like a tide crashing against the shore. His heart stampeded wildly beneath his chest. Teeth and nails tugged at their roots. His skin felt hot and feverish. A sudden sweat drenched his body.
His face contorted into a hellish mask of pain as his innards twisted within his gut. Bulging veins throbbed beneath his skin. His eyes glazed over into inhuman red orbs. Jagged fangs clenched tightly to keep from screaming. Convulsing, he collapsed onto the mud-covered floor and rolled into the water.
The moonlight found him out. A beam of cold brown light slashed his arm and the slender limb turned gray and sinewy. His splayed fingers degenerated into claws. His bare skin thickened, becoming coarse and leathery. Muscles rippled across his back as his youthful frame seemed to absorb weight and substance from the moonlight, growing larger and more imposing. His attractive face being ripped apart by his own clawed hands, removing skin and throwing them everywhere, muscles growing stronger. Bristling gray fur erupted from beneath his febrile hide. gray white hair spread over his body, hiding his nakedness beneath a thick sable pelt. Bony talons scraped at the floor. His vision blurred, the color fading from his sight as the lake around him dissolved into fuzzy shades of gray. Tufted ears twitched atop his skull. His nostrils quivered, suddenly alive to myriad new smells. He choked on the overwhelming stench of swamp, even as he bit back the howl forming at the back of his throat. A canine snout stretched out his face. His clamped his protruding jaws together. I'm not an animal! Not inside!
But on the outside, it was a different story. The wrenching pain passed away as the hellish transformation reached its end. Little trace of the gawky youth remained; instead a great gray werewolf arose from the filthy ground, standing erect on his hind legs. Moonlight bathed the enormous monster Kraven had become. Kraven shouted a human shout in the air, the scream turning into a roar that transformed into a fearsome howl.
The gray Werewolf turned to the hunter that just walked into the fire. Growling angrily, seeing him as a threat, Kraven already leaped in the air to attack the man.
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Post by BlackRose on Nov 1, 2009 21:22:07 GMT -5
Iason growled at the hunter who withdrew his sword a silver long sword. Looking back and forth between the two of them, there were two he had a feeling he had been massively played, by the d**n cat he was chasing no less.
---
Iason starred down at the hunter. There were several scars on his body hidden by fur from silver blades. But as long as the hunter went down he could care less. The silver may sting like hell. But he stopped and paced as a were-lion came out from the bush as well. To say the least Iason was more concerned about the lion than the hunter. The lion was a feline of Hircine… he had many ‘pets’ so too speak. He was a hound the lion was a feline. He made a grumble sound telling Kraven he wanted to deal with the cat, but mad a whine that meant if he wanted to he could take it instead. but he saw Kraven jump for the hunter, and realised he had no choice he was getting the cat even if he wanted too, which he did.
{{ooc: sorry its short o.0 i will be working ont he actiony sequence to make it ... decent...}}
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Post by Sylvannas on Nov 2, 2009 14:28:42 GMT -5
The hunter dodged the Werewolf, the creature leaped over him.
The gray Werewolf looked around, noticing his friend also occupied with trouble. But he had his own, and he was more than sure Iason was capable of taking care of himself. Werelions? in Cyrodiil? Odd. Kraven concentrated on the hunter, who grabbed his silver crossbow and began firing. The gray Werewolf running away, dodging them by jumping behind the tree.
((OOC: MY POST SUCKED MORE THAN Janus and Vicente..but I need to cook something good.)))
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Post by BlackRose on Nov 3, 2009 13:17:43 GMT -5
Iason and the were-lion paced growled at each other. Iason taking into consideration that Kraven was dealing with the hunter. The feline growled before it leapt at Iason over the fire. Iason reared up pushing back on the cat making it falter and its back end, ending up in the fire. The feline yowled and dashed a short ways away from Iason. The cat not on fire just a little singed.
The were-lion was pissed the wolf it had smelt was suppose to be young and inexperienced, enough to injure the hunter while being killed. But that was so the khajit could take care of the hunter himself. But there weren’t supposed to be two fully grown mutts running around. The Were-Lion avoided the fire this time as it bared its fangs and sprang back at the wolf.
Iason knew he couldn’t use the fire for a second time, well like he did once already. As the were-lion came at him again he swatted hot coal and burnt wood at the khajit catching it in the face. The feline stopping yowling and roaring as Iason took advantage of it situation.
The two were-creatures were a mix of claws and teeth as they fought the cat let out a strange yowl as Iason brought one of his paws down on its head and grabbed the feline’s throat.
{{ooc: i am unsure if i am going to kill the lion.. i might....}}
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