The Dreaming's version of the Wardwood exists completely untouched by man. Species long hunted to extinction in Sunderland—the wolf, the bear, and the lynx—still thrive here, occasionally posing a threat to guardians. In the far north, last year's abnormally harsh winter drove the forest's predators to desperation. Packs of starving wolves began hunting first fawns and then adult guardians, inflicting severe casualties on an already sparse and struggling population. But the guardians of the north are hardy creatures, and one herd soon rose to the task of driving away the wolves. Now, one year later, their ranks are scarred and broken-horned, and more experienced than ever before. This winter may not be as severe as the last, but the northern Wood has not yet recovered—and the howling of wolves rises once more from the dark evergreen hills.
Just as the herd is preparing to again take up the mantle of wolf-hunters, a rook with the glowing eyes of a seer descends from a lightning-riven pine to deliver them an ominous prophecy: if they hunt wolves this season, their legacy will end in blood; no member of their herd will survive to see another winter.
What does the herd think of the prophecy, and what does it do in response?
Herd contest information
Like the noble house contest, this is a group effort! Groups must consist of two to four people. If your group doesn't fill up all four slots, you will be able to gift or contest away the extra guardians under the conditions that 1) they must remain members of the herd and 2) they must go to separate owners.
We try to vary the winners of our contests whenever possible. If you were a winner in the noble house contest you will still have a fighting chance, but in the event that we receive entries of similar merit we'll be granting a preferential boost to groups who haven't won anything recently.
To clear up any confusion, the wolves mentioned in the herd's backstory are ordinary wolves, not Gwyn's Wolves. They're of normal intelligence and size and cannot speak.
While you aren't under any obligation to RP this herd in the Dreaming if you win, please only enter if you're at least interested in Dreaming roleplay!
Each person can only enter once. When you are ready to enter, have one member of your group post the form below in this thread by 8 PM EST on the 20th.
Entry form
[size=11][b]Name of Herd[/b] You have the space of one paragraph to tell us about this herd! You can write a broad summary of what the herd is like and how it functions, or you can focus on one aspect of the herd -- such as leadership, initiation rites, or seasonal traditions -- which you find interesting and distinctive. This is not the place to get detailed; we're just looking for a succinct means by which to get a feel for your herd's character.
Repeat the following for each of the group's entrants:
[b]Entrant name:[/b] (Full username) [b]Guardian:[/b] (Guardian name; buck one, buck two, doe one, or doe two - specify which one is the herd leader) [b]Personality summary:[/b] (Describe this guardian's personality BRIEFLY in 3-5 sentences)
[b]The rook has spoken...[/b] And now, the most important section of your entry: tell us how your herd reacts to the rook's prophecy, and what it decides to do in response (if anything). We're looking for plot potential and responses that are creative and unique while also remaining believable. While this can, if you choose, be longer and more detailed than the other sections, please try to limit yourself to one to three paragraphs. Umbro loves brevity almost as much as she loves pudding.
Posted: Fri Jan 17, 2014 1:26 pm
The Vanyar They were an insular herd, caring little for follies and struggles beyond their realm and seeing little worth in others. For they were the Vanyar, an ancient and noble herd that had stood strong since time immemorial, and their only concern was the protection and prosperity of their own. Though few outsiders were fortunate enough to be graced by their company, the Vanyar were renowned for their elegance and vanity alike. Led by a prideful king, they became all of them masters of their world, arrogant in the knowledge that this land was theirs. Then winter fell, and with it came the wolves. Ravaged by famine and desperate for food, they came in droves, endless waves swarming out of the hills and into the forest. Refusing to trust in the competence of others, the Vanyar retaliated alone, hunting the wolves for their audacity. But where pride had built them up, so too was it their downfall, for there were too many wolves and too few Vanyar. Driven by their proud and reckless king, the Vanyar threw themselves outnumbered in to battle and it ravaged the herd. At the end of it all, they found that they had triumphed, but only just. When the ashes of war had settled, there were four. Lords of the land no longer, they were instead mere remnants of a herd once glorious and strong. The four came together to rebuild, to return their home to the grandeur of their memory. But foolish no more, the four agreed to share their power, working one with the other to restore the Vanyar to greatness.
Entrant name: Nyx Argyros Guardian: Ecthelion the Cunning; buck one (leader) Personality summary: Self-styled leader of the band of four, Ecthelion’s arrogance harkens back to days not long past: days of glory and strength and independence, days which his comrades might not appreciate being reminded of. But he had observed the descent of their former king, watched his vain struggle and witnessed his demise, and he had learned from it. He is clever, oh, so clever, and fancies himself cunning enough to achieve everything he desires without falling into the same trap as their fallen leader. Though they are clearly inferior, he is not above using outsiders to achieve his goals; and though he prefers the calculating approach, he is not above getting his hooves dirty - but only when necessary. The Vanyar, after all, will rise once more.
Entrant name: Ashtiel Arykosa Guardian: Aodhagán the Bold; buck two Personality summary: His is the warrior's path, fighting the wolves to protect his herd and following the dictates of his king to secure their lands. But when his king grew poisoned by pride and arrogance, Aodhagán watched as the herd suffered and died all around him, no matter how hard he fought or how boldly he charged. Though now the herd is only four, he will still fight with his all to protect them, even if the others bid him to caution or call him reckless. When the rook spills its prophecy onto the snows and fighting the wolves becomes a sure dance with death, he laughs and vows to charge forth against the ravenous beasts anyway, even if the rest turn tail and flee, for he is Aodhagán the Bold. Never will he hesitate; never will he run.
Entrant name: Shady Maru Guardian: Indis the Vigilant; doe one Personality summary: Indis had always been a timid doe, always on edge. The keenest ear and sharpest eye in the herd, she served as a scout and sentry, her hair-trigger nerves put to good use for the herd’s well-being. But every attack and every battle served only to shatter Indis’ fragile nerves, every death weighed heavy on her mind. Each was a stark reminder of her own mortality, and worse, a failure: she was the watcher, the warning- but she couldn’t see or hear everything, and in the heat of battle often her warning cries went unheard. The rook’s prophecy only confirms Indis’ very deepest fears, and the only force more powerful than the timid doe’s urge to flee is her need to stay with the only security, the only family, that she’s ever known.
Entrant name: MoonRazor Guardian: Aredhel the Wise; doe two Personality summary: She was a survivor, older and more familiar with the cruel ways of their world than her companions. She had faced down the fangs of death, watched as winter's minions snatched her brothers and sisters away, fought even as the last hope seemed to fade, and in that bleak and thankless past she found strength, wisdom, and an indomitable will to live. In life, as in battle, she was fickle, making and changing decisions to adapt and secure her chances of survival. But always she understood that above all things there was strength in numbers and that the herd was the imperishable advantage they would always have and must always use. For there was no greater tragedy than the squandering of the life, the opportunity, the potential that her fallen friends had sacrificed so that she might continue, so for them and for those who had fallen before them, Aredhel must endure.
The rook has spoken... As the rook fluttered away, Aodhagán was the first to scoff. Rooks are second only to foxes in their deceitfulness. There was no question they would carry on fighting, for no slavering beast could defeat them. The Vanyar were strong, still. Words are as wind, said Aredhel. It was pointless to stake the future on such meaningless drabble. Together, the herd would prevail. Ecthelion seemed equally scornful, but even as he sneered at the bird’s retreating figure, the wheels were turning in his mind. …but what if it’s right? wondered Indis, timid as a hare in a kingshawk’s sight. Surely they would not sacrifice themselves so carelessly.
Ecthelion listened to all of this and weighed it in his clever mind. The words of a rook meant little. There was no telling whether it spoke the truth, or even if it had, then whether it had interpreted its vision correctly. Yet, there was a chance, however slight, that it had laid bare the plain truth. It was on this chance that he must contend. But he was a crafty buck and there were ways around everything, if one knew where to look. Fight if you will, he said, but we must train others to fight, as well. Perhaps to send into battle in their stead, or perhaps to carry on their work in the unlikely event that they died. Either way, however unworthy or incompetent their chosen successors were, it was the weakness in the prophecy and he intended to exploit it.
Predictably, the suggestion was met with vehement protest from Aodhagán and Aredhel alike. Train outsiders? It was ridiculous! They were weak. Incompetent. Inferior. It would take far too long to train them and, even if it proved possible, they would surely be more hindrance than help on a battlefield. In her own hesitant way, Indis suggested it might be wise to pay at least some heed to the rook’s words, but the others were in no fit state to hear her. However, after enough debate, Aredhel’s prudence took hold. There is strength in numbers, she admitted, however reluctantly. Better they recruit these outsiders to a possible doom than face a certain one alone. Let the wolves eat them first, Aodhagán snarled. At least these outsiders would make good bait. Perhaps it would not be a complete waste of time. Though the four had reached an agreement, Ecthelion could tell that none of them were entirely pleased. He could only hope that nothing would happen to change their minds – or disrupt his plans.
Defenders of Delphi The Defenders of Delphi hold an odd tradition for accepting members into their ranks. Long ago, when she was only a fawn, young Feronia was granted sight beyond sight, or so she says. While many doubt that the young doe holds any prophetic powers at all, she does seem to hold some sort of ability. It is said that she sees the newest members in her visions, and then seeks them out, telling them of the future they could bring. While some choose to scoff at this madwoman’s tales, it isn’t long before, indeed, her words do become true. It was in this way both Castus and Vejovis were brought into her small, but steadily growing group, and that more will be brought in.
While in truth it is unsure whether Feronia has any powers of sight or not, she often goes out on her own to receive such visions, and, in secret, consults with a certain network of rooks….
Entrant name: ~Lady Kanna~ Guardian: Feronia; Doe Two – Herd Leader Personality summary: Feronia has always been strong willed, making her a perfect leader for her small group against the wolves. While calm and preferring to hear all sides of any story, she loves to use words such as ‘destiny’ or ‘fate’ to drive her team towards their goal of protecting the other less-harmful residents of the wood. She’s a seasoned fighter, carrying many scars from her previous encounters, and will never back down from protecting the ones she loves, especially her mate Vejovis. There are some who even say she has seen the future herself, that she is a master of prophecy and the mystic, and her witty battle plans have yet to fail.
Entrant name: Roserain Guardian: Vejovis; Buck 2 Personality summary: Stoic and reserved, Vejo holds himself rather aloof and prefers action over words. He can be stubborn to a fault, but will often bow to the will of his mate and be one of the strongest voices of support in her favor. Vejo also takes the job of protecting the herd extremely seriously, feeling it’s a spiritually appointed task and fully believing in his mate Feronia; feeling that she is ‘spirit-touched’ or destined. Constantly striving to prove himself, he secretly worries that he’s not good enough, whether by strength or fate, to be Feronia’s mate or protect the herd. This means he’s constantly trying to prove his worth both to everyone and himself.
Entrant name: PeanutButterPies Guardian: Castus; Buck One Personality summary: Castus is a rather protective buck, that is incredibly focused on the herd’s safety and well being. Incredibly loyal, if Castus believes he is protecting the herd than he will do whatever is asked of him to the best of his abilities. Somewhat unemotional, Castus prefers to listen to his head than his heart and expects the herd to do the same, leading him to become a bit of a pest when he feels someone is acting more on their emotions than their brains. However, when he’s not being a bother, Castus is rather sweet and always tries to help where he can, be it being an impromptu healer or going ahead of everyone to scout out possible dangers.
The rook has spoken...
While not one foreign to rooks, Feronia narrowed her eyes at this particular one. This rook was not to be trusted, and sensing the doubt running through her herdmate’s hearts, she turned. Do not fear, this one does not speak true. She soothes, softly approaching the two males. I have seen differently, we shall triumph and protect these innocent children yet another winter. We shall not pass, do you not believe me? Your prophetess? Her gaze switches between Castus and her darling Vejovis, waiting for any sign of their approval. There was a slight hesitation from Castus before he spoke, his eyes flickering between the rook and his leader. I.. believe you my leader. You have not yet led us astray. Yet I still fear that this rook may not be entirely untruthful. He shifted uncomfortably as he admitted the latter part, knowing he was going against the words of the one he trusted dearly. But his fears that the herd would die were ruling out over his logic and he nervously glanced to Vejovis, hoping the buck would have something to add that would help him figure out what to do.
…If hunting the four dead ones go.
Vejovis turned his head away under the glare of his beloved; deeply chilled. Her conviction against the rook was a force of nature in his mind; he could feel the pull of her words, her very spirit, drawing him towards her. Had he not supported her with every step? Upheld her voice so that all might hear? He caught Castus’s look, lifting his head only marginally to meet the other buck’s eyes before turning back to his mate. Of course she’d defend the little ones. Of course she’d defend the herd. Even himself, as the scars on her pelt constantly reminded him. A guilt he carried heavily on his heart. But that only strengthened his resolve. If the rook spoke true, she would die. If she died, they would all fall. He lowered his head before her, rubbing his antlers against the ground until his token as a hunter, the sinew of wolf hide and fur, came loose to fall against the snow. There weren’t enough words to explain how he felt, but his heart swelled with love for her.
Forgive me…
His voice broke, and he could not meet her eyes again as he lifted his head.
She was pleased with Castus’ reaction, nodding to him solemnly before closing her eyes, her voice soothing him so quietly. Have no fear, we shall see another winter yet, my brave Castus. I have seen it already to be true, and perhaps one more shall join our goals. However, her attention turned to that of her mate, waiting patiently for his reaction. When it finally came, nothing could have prepared her for this. He wasn’t going to fight. He was going to leave her. Her heart felt like it was going to break with only those two words, and silence too them.
Vejovis, my love…...why? Did he no longer wish to be hers? Did he no longer wish her his? After all they’d been through, he was going to leave her here? Don’t believe this foolish bird. You’ve never doubted my word before, why now? Do you….Do you really not trust me that much? The heartbreak seeped into her words as she bowed her head, unsure of what to do, how to feel towards the one she called her mate.
There was only shock as Castus looked on, watching Vejovis’ actions. He had never expected him to go against the herd, but he was here siding with the rook and not with their leader. Yet.. he was still the same Vejovis he knew. Stepping forward, he said I fear you are making the wrong choice, but I understand your reasoning. I hope that you see the right side soon and that I hold no hard feelings for you. Shaking himself once, his cape heavy on his back, he stepped back and hoped that the buck took his words for what they were and would come to the side of sensibility once more. .
The hurt in her voice made him shake, but his mind had been made.
It is not that I don’t have faith in you.
I just can’t bear to lose you. But that was far too selfish to say out loud. Vejo looked upon his lover as softly as he could, hoping he could convey the whole of it. He wouldn’t go hunting, couldn’t. The spirits sent the rook to be sure, and even if his message was a falsehood, there was meaning to it that wouldn’t fall on deaf ears. There was a reason those words were spoken, and in that he had faith. Would his defiance be enough to make it so? To make the prophecy untrue? How was he supposed to save her, to save the whole herd?
I will follow you, Feronia, but I will not hunt.
I will always follow, and I will always love you. Let me protect you, if just this once. Castus’s approach forced him back a pace, his emotions too intense to permit the other buck so close, though Castus fell back as soon after he spoke, and Vejo shook his head.
I understand, old friend.
Traitor. She felt utterly betrayed. Prophet she may be, leader she may be, but to know her lover would no longer fight by her side, that he’d rather leave her for dead to face the wolves alone, to protect everything that has yet to be, that was hurt enough. She stood for a moment, watching him behind wavering eyes, the pain and hurt showing completely. She couldn’t live without him, she may yet convince him, but….that day was not to be today.
...Please don’t leave me. Please never leave me. There may come a time where you may regret your words as you once did, my love. That day shall not be today, but I will still fight for this world, I shall fight for you. She murmured, inclining her head up to the trees. A rook called out from the canopy, a sign, and she looked back to Castus and then to Vejovis.
Come. There is another who calls for us. She shook her head, and began to lead them. Somewhere, a young doe awaited, one who would change their fate, one to bring light back to their herd.
Light in trees and sunset’s glow The herd mother and her pawns in tow A young doe calls, but shall she know? The fate sung by rook of blood in snow
Omg Umbro we're so sorry, but not really. MUSES MAN.
Posted: Sun Jan 19, 2014 4:24 pm
Alliance of Four Once they were four separate herds each dedicated to fighting the wolf threat on their own terms and in their own ways. Each suffered great losses in their individual battles, yet each were, in turn, unwilling to give up their fight, such was the threat they felt. Without any other choice, they banded together and formed a new herd. The four leaders of the previously separate herds act as the heads. Though they’re equal in theory and united in purpose, sometimes things don’t work out that smoothly. Their leader is almost certainly Adamantine, most warlike and battlehardened of them all. But her fight-at-any-costs approach often causes rifts and disagreements between the leaders.
Other Misc Info.
There is an initiation rite but it’s pretty lax depending on the leader. They like to sing ballads and compose epic poems. They follow a creed to protect the forest from the wolves, that is their priority and purpose.
Entrant name: Minsuil Guardian: Adamantine - Doe 2 Personality summary: Charismatic leader who believes the wolves must be eradicated at any cost. Has a strong instinct that guides her but her train of thought is usually really simple. She always chooses the most direct course of action. Despite this, she’s someone who her comrades can trust and they follow her into her stupid ideas.
Entrant name: thyPOPE Guardian: Recurve, doe 1 Personality summary: She thinks in leaps and bounds, a doe who seems to exist to fire witty repartees and speak in riddle. Her cocky confidence hides that her herd was last to join: only when their support from non-guardians had waned did they finally deign to join their forces with the Alliance’s. And yet her help is necessary for the alliance to succeed - she is no master strategist or battle-hardened warrior (her coat clean of scars shows that well enough), but Recurve is known far and wide for her ability to compromise, to draw companions and familiars alike into her cause (one forged in laughs and trust in her apparently elusive wisdom). Yet the year’s misfortunes do not bode well for her ability to continue...
Entrant name: Zight Guardian: Siege, buck 1 Personality summary: Logical, methodical and serious, Siege is undoubtedly the strategist of the group, and never one to act without thinking things through. While possessing great strength and reliability, he can at times be slow to act, to the frustration of the other herd members. It’d also seem he has great respect for prophecies..
The rook has spoken... In this world, she was not scared of much. Words, prophecies, death, none scared her. It was not that Adamantine looked down upon the Rook’s prophecy. She respected the words of the seer, even believed them to be true. But they were not so weak as to be swayed by death. How could they when the forest was already stained with the blood of their comrades, friends, and family?
“It matters not,” she said, “what fate will hold for us. We will continue to fight to the last wolf. And should we die, then let our blood guard the forest for eons to come.”
Siege fell into silence after the warning sounded, deep in thought. Did a prophecy have all that much to say, all things considered? Words couldn't shake the efficiency of a well thought-out strategy. Still, a part of him felt inexplicably struck by the rook's warning, chilling something deep within him... shaking that unshakable calm of his.
After a while, the dark buck finally spoke his mind. "Perhaps we should defend, rather than attack - just this once," he suggested, instead of drawing his usual firm conclusion. Strategically, it was safer to hold an area than to venture into unknown territory where they could unwittingly be putting themselves at a disadvantage - at least that was the reasoning he gave himself.
“Never. Do you mean to insult our friends who died before us? Are you that cowardly as to spit upon their dreams for the sake of your own hide? If so, leave. And take with you anyone who shares the same thoughts. There is no place for them here.” Adamantine's voice had a hard, cold edge not unlike ice.
“What purpose is there in us all dying - isn’t that a greater insult to those who’ve fought before us? Casting our lives away?” Siege responded uncharacteristically quickly, momentarily revealing both his faith in the prophecy and the insult he felt. After taking a deep breath, he continued in a firm tone more like himself. “I’m not saying we should sit idle. But if we are particularly at risk this season, then I say we spend this time strengthening our group, rather than thinning our numbers. Not just for our sake - but for the sake of those we fight to protect.”
Recurve was now uncharacteristically quiet. She realized, it seemed, that the prophecy was serious (or perhaps it was only her own inclination to trust in denizens of the wood that weren’t guardians that made it seem so). And yet her recent allies were strong, and so was she, and they stood a chance of further thinning the wolves’ numbers. “To strengthen our own at the cost of those we defend, though,” she began, “is contrary to our creed.” She ducked her head and twisted it to the side, an image of contemplation. “Our bravery can be inspiring, and if my live is lost…” Well, she owed it to those who’d done it for her.
Adamantine’s pale eye seemed dark with fury. “Siege,” she said without looking at the buck, “I won’t repeat myself.” She was serious. If he wished to suggest such things then this was as far as they could go. She would not sit idle and wait. She could not.
[What happened next? Where is the fourth leader? Find out next time on Deer Feud!]
Bonus Mini Song: Someone once said: go too far from home and you’ll lose your roots, kill too many and you’ll forget yourself. If you die in battle, your life sinks into the soil like rain and disappear without a trace.
But, brothers, sisters, we won’t forget, the reason the river runs red, the reason the maple leaves turn red, the reason the soil turns red. Oh brothers, sisters, we won’t forget the reason we bled.
Vengeance, justice, the preservation of order: each guardian comes to Eikthyrnir's Guard for different reasons. They cast off their old herds, their old names, and become as sharp as new blades. This herd has only one purpose: killing. No one has been untouched by the wolves' fetid breath. Their sharp teeth have taken too much from those who live peacefully in the woods and a miasma of fear surrounds their existence. However, instead of succumbing to that cowering terror, these guardians have decided to fight back. Last winter, they were swords in the dark, even as their comrades fell around them. Although they counted many victories, still their ranks have dwindled. None of the Guard is a stranger to death. Although many are fooled by the Guard's light spirit and jovial nature; they are, first and foremost, the most dangerous of herds. The wolves will come to fear their laughter. Eikthyrnir's Guard are the protectors, the watchers, the hunters. While the summer was a time of sweet, sun-laden lazy days, winter is coming, and the Guard must take up their mantle of wolf-hunters once more.
If you do not wish to live in terror, make yourself the one they all fear.
Entrant name: The_Great_Book_Wyrm Guardian: Falchion; buck 1 leader Personality summary:Paladin.Falchion is, in a word, a protector. To him, the measure of one's strength is how well one protects those weaker than them, especially children. Most of the time he lets his actions speak louder than his words, and always tries to lead by example, but makes sure than when he does speak, every word counts. He is hopelessly devoted to his herd, his cause, and especially to his mate, Scalpel. He respects each and every member of his herd, and will readily listen to everyone's point of view before making a decision. Protection:The wolves have already slaughtered enough innocents; they must be stopped.
Entrant name: The Semblance of Unity Guardian: Scalpel; doe 2 co-leader Personality summary:Medic.Terrifyingly smart, Scalpel uses her quick mind like a precise knife, leaving nothing unobserved. An oddly bloodthirsty doe, she is perhaps the most dangerous of the herd. Despite this, Scalpel is unerringly gentle around younglings and possesses a protective streak a mile wide. Anyone who hurts her herd should be afraid. Falchion, her mate, is perhaps the only buck she feels truly comfortable around; he calms her intense personality. Revenge:They will never kill another defenseless foal again. Never.
Entrant name: Subobo Guardian: Claymore; doe 1 Personality summary:Tank.Despite the hardships that she has gone through in her life, Claymore still exudes a child-like enthusiasm for nearly everything she does. She throws herself entirely into whatever she does, though she often doesn’t take the time to think her actions through completely beforehand. Putting all of her eggs into one basket, so to speak, keeps her from taking other ideas into consideration, and it takes quite a bit of effort to change her mind to another course of action once she has decided. Vengeance:The wolves have taken my herd from me; I will take theirs from them!
Entrant name: circus king Guardian: Guillotine; buck 2 Personality summary:Tactician.Guillotine is the kindest and calmest of the four guardians, managing to stay serene under even the most stressful of situations. While he's not a complete klutz at stomping wolves, he prefers to leave that hard job to the rest of his colleagues when possible. He is, however, submissive and will always do whatever he is told. Despite that submissive nature, this amiable buck also feels a great responsibility for the rest of the herd. Luckily, because of his collected personality, Guillotine is particularly logical and organized with a quick mind - useful for formulating strategies of battle. Obligation:This plague of wolves should be ended, and who else can do it but us?
There was a brief, poignant silence as the rook's last caw echoed in the trees around them. The pine, lightning-touched and colder than the approaching winter, creaked ominously. Its dead branches rustled with a wind that spoke of blood drifting on the breeze: their blood. The bird's glowing eyes scanned the herd, anticipating their acquiescence. The oppressive air swirled around them all; hooves shifted, feathers quivered, waiting. A noise broke the silence, a giggle, then another, then a laugh. Guillotine's eyes snapped to Claymore and Scalpel and a smile crossed his face. Both does were caught in a paroxysm of laughter at the sheer audacity of this rook. Moments passed, filled with a cold kind of mirth, then Claymore's head darted up, her golden eyes bright as she looked to her leaders. Their nodded assent was all she needed. "Oh, then it a good thing we are not hunting, isn't it?" the caped doe said, stifling another chuckle. Scalpel's laughter stilled suddenly as well and she looked at the rook with a disturbing gleam in her winter-pale eyes.
"Yes, we will not hunt the wolves, dear rook." She stepped closer, crowding herself to the tree, close enough to the rook that her snorted breath caressed his feathers. "We will exterminate them," Scalpel hissed, conviction seething in each word. Slowly and precisely, she knocked the tree with one pale hoof, just enough so that the rook felt the reverberation deep in his belly. Abruptly, she laughed again and stepped back. Did such a silly bird think his words carried any weight? Guillotine huffed in agreement, the fur on his chest fluffing out. The herd chattered at the rook, voices full of disdain and disbelief. The bird had to be lying anyway, they said, their words drifting on the air like dying leaves. We know too much of darkness to be fearful of mere words. The rook cried out angrily.
"Enough." Falchion's voice rang clear over the jumbled noises. He had not laughed with the others, but had merely frowned at the ostentatious bird. When he spoke, his voice was somehow both a sonorous rumble and a clear, deep bell. His eyes were hard as steel. "I am not worried, rook. My herd is strong and wise. We are unstoppable. We will not abandon our post or our duties. The wolves have already slaughtered enough innocents." As he spoke Scalpel moved to stand next to him, so close they shared the same shadow. They stared at the rook, and he shifted uneasily, suddenly aware just how dangerous the Guard was. In the lines of their bodies were knives, not the gentle softness of other herds. Scalpel snorted at the almost-fear in his gaze. And, as a herd, they turned their backs to the rook with his glowing eyes and his foul-tasting prophecy. The day was still young, and they had many things to plan.
Possible Plots: * new recruits * the ethics of a planned wolf genocide * meeting each other in the waking world * blood-lust vs purposeful killing xxxx both as a herd (becoming that which you hunt) and on a personal level * direction of the herd if the wolf threat is eliminated * tension w/ less aggressive herds
Posted: Sun Jan 19, 2014 7:40 pm
Coming Spring A wolf pack is structured, so they must be disciplined. A wolf pack is close, so they must be closer. And a wolf is cold, so they must be crueler still. This is a herd that values the whole before the self, reason rather than emotion, and total victory over mercy. It is evident in their initiation rites, in which a potential recruit must draw first blood against an existing member to gain admittance, and in the fluid way they work as a single being, rather than many, when they are in the heat of battle. The strength and intimacy required of members makes it difficult to add to their numbers, though they realize their need is great with the coming of winter.
Entrant name: Eauo Guardian: Alpha; Doe Two - Herd Leader Personality summary: She is a fierce warrior in the heat of battle, and her scars mark her as a veteran in her trade. Her determination is matched only by her ruthlessness toward anything that might threaten the safety and sanctuary of her home and herd. Yet there is gentleness – a sort of sadness, even – in the quiet of her perceptive gaze.
Entrant name: Ryuukishin Guardian: Beta; Buck Two Personality summary: Bloodweaver, heart-cleaver; crusher of bone, colors red the loam. These were what the songs called him during the battles of a year past. They were only titles, and at first he’d done little more than wear them; now, they threaten to consume him. The hunt and the fighting peppers his thoughts; he is at once repulsed by yet attracted to the feel of breaking skulls beneath his hooves and the wet sound of a body falling to the earth. He has become a killer of wolves; nothing more, and nothing less.
Entrant name: xxx Yuki Bear xxx Guardian: Gamma; Buck One Personality summary: He takes after the shadow he resembles; dark, quiet, and contemplative, he would be an asset to any herd, though his silence makes him seem almost insubstantial, so easily does he meld into the background. He finds great solace within the herd – his only family, though they share no blood – and would follow them to the ends of the earth if it came to it. Although he’s quick to retaliate when provoked, and carries with him a brooding air that serves to intimidate many, he is the most peaceful of the four.
(Please note that the names they have in the Dreaming are titles; if won, their names in the Waking world and the one that goes on the cert may be different.)
The rook has spoken... “Sisters, brother,” Beta called, speaking slowly so that he would not betray his bloodlust with his slaver. The prophecy was difficult to swallow. They were the main line of defense against the wolves of winter, and to hear of their demise implied failure. Or so it seemed at first. “The rook speaks of blood to all, and if we go, we need not go alone. If the prophecy rings true and we see not another winter, then let it be because the winter comes no more. Let us take the wolves with us!”
“We cannot do it with four alone.” It was Gamma who spoke now, neither agreeing nor disagreeing as was his wont. If he was more decisive, he may have been able to take Beta’s title, but he seemed content to follow rather than lead. And if the thought of death frightened him, he did not show it. “But we cannot leave the north undefended, either.”
Alpha took it all in silently. Only Omega seemed averted to battling after the rook had said its prophecy, though the doe spoke with silence rather than words. Alpha, too, held her doubts, but Gamma was right: there were others they had to protect. She did not care for her life as much as her brothers’ and sister’s, but it was too late for them now. They were already dead. Beta had been kind and gentle when they’d formed their herd together, and when the war last winter was over, she thought they could raise the herd’s numbers together. But he never came back, and it was a different Beta she beheld now. Gamma was orphaned when he joined, but time within the herd served more to close his heart than lower his walls; he seemed like to wilt rather than grow under their light. And Omega was strong, so damnably strong, but she traded her fear for recklessness and thought it courage, and the more she fought, the more frightened she grew. Alpha could see it – she could see it all. The herd was falling apart at the seams, and if the wolves did not kill them, they themselves would. But she did not reveal such thoughts, and when she spoke there was no fear. “You are right, brothers: the prophecy spells our victory, not our demise. But words are words, and as our sister says, we must tread with caution still. We will find more to join our cause, so that even if we should fall, we will not be the last. The wolves of winter return once more, brothers and sister mine, but we are the Coming Spring, and when the fighting starts, we’ll be ready.”
Ryuukishin
Man-Hungry Fatcat
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Amorpheous Vice Captain
Human Human
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Posted: Mon Jan 20, 2014 1:12 pm
The Vanguard They do not speak the name of the herd that had brought them together, only of their collective past and future as The Vanguard. They had banded together under the attacks of the wolves and while some of the herd that had once held their allegiance fled and others joined them, it was Honor, Bianca, Nemain, and Auren that remained when the blood dried, the wolves retreated, and the winds began to warm. Honor's bold leadership, Nemain's shrewd strategics, Auren's time-tested wisdom, and Bianca's pointed rage brought them victory time and time again. They renamed themselves The Vanguard, shedding the skin of their past herd to become a herd at the front lines of a war they knew would come year after year. They were brought together by violence, but they do not know inner conflict well. Though peacetime has suited this loosely bound group, their bonds remain untested until now.
Entrant name: Patmos of Endtimes Guardian: Honor, Buck 2 - Herd Leader Personality summary: A leader to his core, Honor lives by a stern moral code crafted out of virtue, one he often expects his herd to follow it as well. As a young buck, he knew nothing but fighting and violence, but meeting Nemain in the throes of a fight channeled his might into protection rather than prideful battle. Honor is driven to save and in those actions find his own salvation; he hunts wolves because that is what he must do. He feels, deep down, that if he were no longer able to do that he would be considered worthless. Arguing with Nemain grieves him, but he cannot fight his nature anymore than she can fight hers; he cannot stop hunting and he will not stop until he dies.
Entrant name: Moonstone Dazzle Guardian: Bianca, Doe 2 Personality summary: From afar, she is the beautiful youth of the herd; the scars she wears are fanciful decorations and the notch in her ear the promise of personality. However, any romantic notions harbored by those who look upon her pale facade are swept away when reality is asserted by proximity. She conducts herself in a cold manner meant to hide the extent of her turmoil; she holds back and away because she cannot find the words or the actions to express the love she holds for her herdmates. She lives too fully in her mind, in a world crafted out of despair and anguish, and populated with the voices, the screaming, relentless voices of those she could not save. Sometimes, oftentimes, she feels overwhelming sorrow and terror at the thought of losing her herdmates and she wishes she would feel no love at all.
Entrant name: Amorpheous Guardian: Nemain, Doe 1 - Leader of the Opposition Personality summary: Her pelt, free of wounds and scars, sets her apart from her comrades; when her fellow herdmates charged into the battle to face claws and teeth, she hung behind, finding vantage points to watch the fight. While that may seem like cowardice, without her careful rationalizations and strategies, they could not have won. She is, out of all of them, the most self-serving; she fights to live, not to protect. She is not unfeeling though and cares deeply for her herdmates. Her love for them, however, cannot outweigh her adherence to rationality, knowledge, and strategy.
Entrant name: Petite Kitsune Guardian: Auren, Buck 1 Personality summary: Auren is a steady, stolid buck who has seen enough violence and sorrow to last a lifetime -- and then some. He considers his herd to be his family; he is both mother and father to them, though he considers Honor a better leader, a buck less constrained by the fear of loss. The idea of losing any of them is paralyzing, so he adamantly opposes the idea of going after the wolves. He has seen enough portents and signs come true that he believes the rook, and has horrifying clear visions of his beloved herd broken and bloodied in the snow, something he will not be part of himself. It pains him to see the young ones charge in recklessly and he hopes to talk some sense into Honor and Bianca before it is too late.
The rook has spoken...
Wind whispers on the frigid snow: Through sun-bleached bone the breeze will blow And blood-soaked terror all will know If hunting the four dead ones go.
So young and untested, the herd splintered with the words of the rook. It was as if those glowing eyes and haunting words dealt a shattering blow to their bonds. Honor, certain in his purpose and unwilling to back down when he knew that lives would be put at risk by his inaction, immediately rallied against the rook. He would lead the fight and the Vanguard would follow, of that he was certain. At least, he was certain until Nemain spoke. She disliked the idea of ignoring the rook's warning; knowledge was the ultimate power after all. She was not opposed to fighting if confronted, but she had no intention of hunting the wolves down as they had the winter before. Nothing could sway either Honor or Nemain from their courses. For Honor, it was not a matter of pride or bravery in the face of cowardice; it was his duty to protect. For Nemain, who became increasingly disgusted in the face of Honor's refusal to heed her advice, charging forward against the rook's warning was the course of a fool and she had no problem with saying as much. When the leader and the strategist turned to the oldest and the youngest of the herd, they were met by a supporter each.
Auren had seen much death in his long years and was not keen on seeing more. In his years he had also seen many prophecies come to pass; he could only see defying this one as a death sentence. He saw the value of caution and minimizing death amongst those who now considered his closest companions. He would protect those who came to them as they had in the past, but his route fell in line with Nemain. They would protect through defense. If there was one thing that Nemain was capable of, it would be finding the safest place to take their stand where they had the highest chance of killing any attackers. Bianca, the youngest, knew fear, but she did not show it. Her herdmates made their assumptions about her, but they could not know what went on in her mind. She was often cold and silent, similar on a superficial level to Nemain. Perhaps that was why Nemain narrowed her eyes in surprise when Bianca chose to follow Honor’s lead. The silence and calm that pervaded Bianca’s peacetime presence was misleading though. Of them all, she remembered the deaths of the past best. How could she forget when the voices of the dead haunted her every step, breath, and thought? It was easiest for her to show nothing except hatred and fury when caring could do nothing to lessen her anguish; to follow Honor was to show her love for Nemain and Auren by facing the wolves head on and keeping them safe. She could be cold and uncaring if it meant that they would not join the legion of the dead screaming at her.
Facing the threat of the wolves divided, both sides refused to relinquish their claim to being The Vanguard. Honor believed that his actions justified the name and Nemain was not without her selfish pride. It was in this way that the herd began to draw members once more as they had the last winter. On one side, they sought to train the next band of warriors to hunt the wolves. On the other side, they sought strength of defense in numbers. Hardest of all on the herd was that all four continued to want for unity; their shared histories made the conflict ugly and bitter, a thing of sorrow. Honor was a leader and it brought him great sadness to have contributed to division rather than unity amongst those he loved. Nemain preferred to influence rather than lead and did not take well to taking charge, especially at the cost of spurning her friends. Bianca loved them all fiercely even if she did not, could not, show it; she did what she did out of love. Auren considered the herd his family and saw this disagreement as a sign of Nemain and Honor's youth and short-sightedness. Still stubbornness and the threat of death are hardly good for bringing two opposing sides together.
"It is my duty. I am a hunter, so hunt I must. Tell me, how can I back down? Who am I if not a hunter?"
"Nothing will matter if you are dead, you foolish brute! What is bravery and duty to a vanished soul? What is honor if Honor is dead?"
“If you are dead, then who will I have? I will have nothing but your voices. What other course can I choose except to protect you?”
“Time has shown me that these words will come to pass. To risk your lives knowing this would be foolish and careless of me.”
Posted: Mon Jan 20, 2014 2:03 pm
The Wolfsbane While not a proper herd name, but more of a colloquial title for the group, each member of the herd is referred to formally with their name and the warrior title, "the Wolfsbane". They are a herd of soldiers and warriors, who care first and foremost about the well-being of Guardians. They swear solemn oaths to defend others with their lives, foregoing taking mates and having children. They are a collection of bucks and does who have known loss and want to protect others.
Entrant name: purplerosesbeauty Guardian: Luixa (Doe one), she is the Leader Personality summary: Since the loss of her family as a young, frightened doe , Luixa's heart and will hardened, and she grew up resolute in the idea that she would never again be as she was- powerless to protect those whom she held most dear. Her charisma drew others to her cause as she searched for a new herd, and with her new friends she vowed to protect the guardians from all mortal foes in this dangerous world. She is willing to do whatever it takes to protect the ones she loves, as a fearless warrior and veteran of many battles. It is with her love and strength that she protects others, with her life too, if need be. Her herd adores her as she adores them, and they would follow her to the ends of the earth, if all she did was ask it to be done.
Entrant name: Alanna the Pirate Queen Guardian: Sharpan (Buck two) Personality summary: Gutsy, impatient, and bold- Sharpan has seen his own fair share of hard winters and none of them have proved to dampen his fighting spirit. With a big mouth and an even bigger heart, he is a lion in deer's clothing. Actions may speak louder than words, but Sharpan is pretty good at speaking loudly with both. Not the type to ever sit in the sidelines, he would gladly put his life on the line for a cause he believes in. The only guardian he truly respects is his herd leader, Luixa, and he is loyal to her to a fault.
Entrant name: Hopelessly Pretty Guardian: Mariona (Doe two) Personality summary: Mariona is the oldest member of the herd and her pale eyes have seen many things in the Wardwood. She has never been unfamiliar with the stench of blood and death but after the loss of her two sons to the ravenous wolves, this doe took an oath to join the Wolfsbane and fight. Swift of foot and keen-eyed, Mariona serves the roles of both healer and tracker; it is her job to search in advance for signs of wolves and then repair the damage they have caused the guardians. A compassionate counselor and intelligent observant, Mariona balances out the diverse personalities of the herd with her calm and thoughtful demeanor.
The rook has spoken...
Wind whispers on the frigid snow: Through sun-bleached bone the breeze will blow And blood-soaked terror all will know If hunting the four dead ones go.
The rook was gone, but the words hung heavily in the air. Luixa knew what it meant immediately, they couldn't hunt or they would all be killed by the wolves. And if they died, who would protect everyone? Luixa couldn't shake the sinking feeling, the sense of dread that filled her up. She couldn't let everyone die... She looked to her herd, the two bucks, different as night and day, and the pale doe who was her closest friend and ally...
Sharpan was the first to speak up. "What does a carrion bird know of battle? Of honor? You don't really believe the words of a feather-brain like that, right?" he asked, turning to Luixa. The others were quiet, contemplating the rook's words, it seemed.
"A rook with glowing eyes, the sign of a prophet, yes." Luixa replied. "Their eyes see the future, and it is not a future I want. I know what we're going to do." She looked each of her herd members in the eyes in turn, her new family, her most trusted friends. "The rook says if four hunt, four shall die. I will hunt as one, and then only one can die." Her voiced was ice as she came to her decision.
Mariona spoke now, stepping forward to touch shoulders with her leader, her eyes wide. "Luixa, are you deciding with your head, or with your heart?" She was always the most compassionate, the most understanding. She too, had known loss and knew the troubles that plagued Luixa... She only wanted to be sure that her leader was absolutely certain.
The leader answered swiftly. "It's both. I know what must be done. Mariona the Wolfsbane, in my absence, you will lead the herd. I trust you'll do what must be done too, and care well for each other." Of all the herd members, it was Mariona who was the most stable, the most capable of leading. They would be in good hooves.
"What? You mean to leave us behind? After all we have been through together… we swore an oath!" he rebuked Luixa as she revealed her thoughts and plans. "I swore to protect the guardians with my life… since when did we place our lives above the lives of others…?!" Sharpan was in disbelief, it was plain on his face and in his voice as it rose with anger.
"I swore an oath to protect my herd, when I made myself the leader," Luixa replied, her voice sharp as a falcon's claws. "And if we all die, who will protect the fawns next winter? Who will take up the mantle of wolf-hunter if it's not us? You three cannot die." She softened, continuing. "I'm the best hunter. If anyone has a chance of surviving alone, it will be me."
Her word was final… and she was the leader and she would not change her mind, and Sharpan seemed to back down, although he still seemed petulant and sulking. Mariona and the tactician were agreeing to the plan, and would follow Luixa's instruction.
"I hope we meet again in the spring, and can hunt the wolves together next winter. You are the Wolfsbane, and you are my family. Take care, and do not hunt the wolves." She was firm, but kind. Her voice didn't betray her emotions, and soon Luixa left so that her body didn't betray her in any way. It must be done.
------
Luixa had gone. Their brave leader had actually gone. Sharpan thought she might have reconsidered, but it didn't happen. "So… we are just going to let her go? No! I'm going after her, and there is nothing you soft-foots can do to stop me! If we die, it will be up to you two rebuild the herd… but I will not let her die alone."
Sharpan was stubborn, worst than anyone Mariona had ever known. She didn't think he would listen to her very well, so long as his heart followed Luixa. She watched him leave, unable to say anything in response before he had ran off after their leader... their old leader. For now, Mariona was the leader. She turned to the last remaining member, their quiet, wary tactician.
"We'll have to figure a way to defend the wood without attacking the wolves directly, I suppose..."
Extra Info about The Wolfsbane Herd
To become a member of the herd, Luixa asks that they kill one of the beasts that threaten guardians (a wolf, a bear or a lynx) and brings their pelt to the Dreaming Tree, a giant tree with thousands of branches, to swear a solemn oath to dedicate their lives to hunting and defending the Guardians. The Dreaming Tree has long stood in the Dreaming, although it's been cut down in the waking world for centuries.
The Oath: I will be the bane of wolves. For as long as I live, it will be me and my brothers and sisters who protect those who cannot protect themselves. I will dedicate my life to the herd, having no fawns nor mates. I am the bane of wolves, the killer of beasts, but above all, the protector of the weak and innocent. I am the wolfsbane.
After laying the pelt before the tree and saying the oath, Luixa will say "Rise, Wolfsbane." and the ceremony will be done. This is the most important tradition they have, as well as their funeral service for the fallen members.
They hunt wolves and most other beasts in a herd, for safety. Besides Luixa, who has an undisputed leader role, the herd members are all equals, and equally important to her. Luixa avoids ranks and official positions, as their small size calls for the members to take many roles - ranger, scout, guard, caretaker, gatherer, etc.
(OOC note, although they swear to have no mates or children, the Guardians can still unknowingly have children, or have mates in the waking world. This just refers to them purposely forming bonds in the Dreaming and taking mates there, and purposely having children!)
purplerosesbeauty
Springtime Spirit
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L ii a t h
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Posted: Mon Jan 20, 2014 2:44 pm
Orn Lote
Strictly traditional, the herd relies heavily on the strength of their spirituality and rituals. They are an "old blood" herd, placing strong emphasis on routine, exclusivity and remaining true to their roots. Their frequent devotional practices focus on the worship of natural phenomenon, and their connection and influence on aspects of the natural world. They have a rigid initiation process, for both outside guardians looking to join the herd, and for guardians born into the herd, to ensure their numbers are true and strong; weakness is intolerable. However, recently, younger and newer guardians have begun voicing a call for modernized change, tossing the balance of power into question, and ensuring strife between members.
Entrant name: ~Twilight...Angel~ Guardian: Glinil : doe 2 - herd leader Personality summary: Glinil is a very powerful and straight forward leader. Though she has practiced the old ways for many years, she is trying to make the elders see just how little most of the old ways are needed. She leads the charge each year and performs the ritual needed before starting the hunt. Glinil believes in taking care of her herd first and for most, and worrying about such things as prophecy second. She would never put the herd in danger and would risk everything she has to make sure the herd is always doing well.
Entrant name: L ii a t h Guardian: Irym : buck 2 Personality summary: Stubborn and prideful, Irym fancies himself a better leader than doe2, and often seeks to overthrow her. Confrontational by nature, he appears fearless, quick to slander and demand action. Opinionated, he boasts freely, and holds his ground firmly, however flawed it might be.
The rook has spoken...
The winter before last concluded in tragedy. The season of hunt had come to a close, and the herd gathered that evening for a ritualistic burning of sage - a powerful tool for cleansing, and the beginning of preparation for the next great hunt. A bonfire raged in the middle of the clearing, thick plumes of smoke rising, the breeze catching the herbal scent and filling the air around the gathered guardians. The ritual was one practiced routinely after the season, but this year, something was amiss. The fire, an element the herd regarded with extreme caution - for they associated it with the destruction and bloodshed of the wolves - unleashed it's wrath, and they lost control of the flames.
They doused the flames quickly, but not before Glinil was struck, losing sight in her right eye. The other members were horrified; what had gone wrong, and how could they trust to be led by a doe with only one working eye? Cursed, they whispered superstitiously, she would lead them astray and be their downfall in battle. The might have won the battle of that season, but from the afterlife, the wolves had sent their fire to destroy them.
Glinil, though suffering, managed to calm her herd, to assure them it meant nothing, that she would not fail them. The herd was unconvinced, but allowed her leadership reluctantly. Cursed, cursed. The whispers continued, hovering over the herd like a threat. When the rook brought his prophecy, the herd reeled, turning to Glinil accusingly. Your fault, doomed us all. Uproar, panic, calls for mutiny. Still, they would fight; they would always fight. But with the herd in shambles...who would they be fighting?
Cursed, cursed.
Posted: Mon Jan 20, 2014 4:59 pm
The Faengbaren
A savage and combative herd, the Faengbaren are a tight-knit group who favor one characteristic in their members above all others: strength. After coming together during the previous winter to fight the first wave of their howling foes, their names became known across the land for their extraordinary deeds. Nearby herds huddled closer to their territory with the hopes of receiving their protection, but one thing has become glaringly apparent about the Faengbaren; they are an arrogant and cruel bunch. Those who do not recognize or respect their strength are spurned and driven away, and to receive their protection, nearby herds must pay tribute. The strongest yearling from each surrounding herd is sent every spring to be trained during the off season. It is a grueling process that many cannot withstand, but those who make it to the next winter are hardened by their trials, and ready to fight. Two apprentices stand out above the others this year, and as the cold winds blow in from the north, the herd prepares to wage their seasonal war on the wolves once again.
Repeat the following for each of the group's entrants:
Entrant name: bell curve Guardian: Andjerus (doe 2) - herd leader Personality summary: Once, Andjerus may have hunted wolves to protect her kin, but that was a long while ago, and now, with her flanks scarred and her ears torn, she hunts for the thrill and glory of it. She is a mad king, born of the deaths of her sisters and blooded by battles with wolves, and holds nothing in the words nobility, honour, or kin; she sees herself above other guardians for she is a wolf-hunter and a predator of predators. Although she can appear sweet to strangers that come across her path, Andjerus is vicious, offensive, and disrespectful to those she considers beneath her. Stubborn and arrogant to a fault, Andjerus keeps her position as leader through heavy-handed manipulation and the occasional display of brutal violence.
Entrant name: Soldier of Song Guardian: Althalas (buck 2) Personality summary: Belligerent and forceful, Althalas acts as Andjerus' musclebound second-in-command. Together since the first battle-ridden winter, he aids her in keeping the herd organized and is a decisive tool in weeding out the weak and unable. Though Althalas is often the one to carry out his partner's orders, he is more than capable of giving commands in her stead, despite the reputation he has garnered as her dumb muscle in their singleminded quest to rid their territory of wolves. He is a serious creature of few words, and even during the sunny seasons never seems to let go of his stone-faced demeanor.
Entrant name: kamileunaire Guardian: Nymiel (doe 1) Personality summary: Chosen from a neighboring herd for her bulk and speed, Nym has passed the trials of the off season with flying colors, showing a promising amount of physical strength as well as a thorn-sharp wit. Despite the harsh treatment doled out to newcomers, Nym has only grown bolder with the passing of the seasons, and while she does seek to prove herself, she has not yet hardened into a mirthless killer. Lauded for her ability but looked down on for her sensible nature, she is not one to barge into a questionable situation, prefering to at least spare a moment to strategize rather than charge head first into the fray. Though this tendency has been curbed for the most part, for all her skill she can still be hesitant at times.
Entrant name: Thatlauralass Guardian: Zilvril, buck 1 Personality summary: Zilvril was a charming and exuberant fawn, before his herd reluctantly provided him to the Faengbaren as their tribute for protection. In the off season that passed, so too did that part of his personality. Grown into a young buck of arrogance and animosity, he has survived his trials and faces his first winter within his new herd. Still, despite the brainwashing of the trials, there remains a faint glimmer of naivety within his eyes, even if this is a rare occurrence to witness. What is somewhat more apparent, though, is his apprehensiveness towards his first season spent with the herd.
The rook has spoken... The herd of four looked up at the harsh words sung by the rook, wondering what had interrupted their reprise in the senescing woods. Its beady eyes, glowing blue, glared down at them from the tree.
They stood silent until the white doe, Andjerus, snorted, deliberating turning her body away from the tree. “Rooks,” she said disdainfully. “Filthy beasts.”
The rook cawed angrily, raising its wings, but Althalas whickered, charging the tree irately until the bird shook off its perch and fluttered into the air. It spat at them, cawing once more in final warning, until at last it disappeared from the herd’s sight.
Andjerus turned to the herd, head lowered in warning. “The rook speaks nonsense. We are hunting this winter.”
Nymiel cowered from Andjerus, looking visibly shaken by the rook’s words. “What could that mean, though? Are there not four of us here?”
“It matters not,” Andjerus said, turning away to glare at the sky where the rook had fled. “When have the words of rooks ever come true?”
Zilvril paused, not quick to follow. His breathing sped as the worry grew within the young buck, and he glanced towards Nym for some clarity from the thoughts that sped through his mind. He padded on the spot for a moment, unsure whether he should immediately follow the herd leader, or his own instinct.
“Blood soaked terror?” He whispered in Nymiel’s direction while Adjerus was still sneering.
"Why would it say something so specific?" She puffed out nervously, straying closer to Zil as her eyes remained glued on their old teacher. "When has a rook spared any words for us at all? Should we not heed this warning?"
Althalas turns to watch their youngest apprentice speak out, his eyes flashing with a dangerous glare as he cast his gaze to Andjerus.
"I... I don’t know. It does seem odd," Zilvril said back.
Andjerus had heard enough. "When has a rook spared any words of truth to a guardian?" Andjerus hissed, pawing the ground and digging dangerously into the dirt. "You forget yourself, yearlings. We have hunted wolves this past winter and we will hunt wolves this winter. If you dare listen to words of a filthy, scavenging crow instead of your leader, then you can be left out for the rook to feed on your bodies."
With a final toss of her head, Andjerus kicked at the tree where the rook once stood, and left.
Zilvril grumbled to himself, a little louder than intended. "When has a rook spared any words at all?"
Althalas moved to strike Nymiel, who bleated angrily at him as she scrambled to avoid a blow from his hooves. He snorted at the two of them before moving off to follow Andjerus. Nymiel turns to Zilvril, her ears laid back.
"Maybe it is true, but it doesn't feel right." She looks lost, knowing that Althalas has the ability to end them both if they disobey orders, and she shuffles along after Zil, looking extremely distraught. Althalas glared once more at them, and dropped his antlers as a warning, before trotting to Andjerus beyond the trees, where she rested.
"Andjerus," Althalas said, "Maybe you should heed the rook."
"No," Andjerus replied simply, showing no signs of changing her mind. "We will hunt wolves. We were made to hunt wolves, and the words of a bird will not stop me until I am soaked in their blood."
Althalas bowed his head in deference, but in his heart, he wondered.
bell curve
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Rookeries
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Posted: Mon Jan 20, 2014 5:04 pm
(sóling: belonging to sól / sippe: german word for clan or sect, the sippe could be made of up to 50 families and one of their duties was the regulation of forests)
The Sóling Sippe are refugees from a larger herd that was attacked wolves, led by the white doe, Sól. Her three children are her lieutenants, and the herd itself is matriarchal, meaning that the heir apparent, should anything happen to Sól, is her daughter, Leydring. She and her three siblings are assigned three different tasks based (oocly) on the Art of War- Dromi is the tracker and strategist, who surveys the land and tells the tactician where to raid; Leydring is the tactician, who devises a plan on how to raid the area, and Gleipnir is the general, who raids the area.
The Sóling Sippe is too new to have accepted outsiders yet, but word of them has spread through the dreaming due to their tradition of killing wolves. The herd only kills wolves in the winter, unless provoked to it, so as not to overhunt. Sól is a vindictive matriarch, and the ritual is a form of revenge for the death of her mate, Týr, and her herd. If Leydring, who is known to be far more circumspect about risk of life, were ever to actually take over, the tradition might change, but her brother Gleipnir pursues the hunt avidly, and a power struggle could ensue.
The Sóling Sippe accept strays from any herd, so long as they can prove their worth, and they test potential members with three trials; Leydring with a test of wit, Dromi with an obstacle course to test ability as a tracker, and Gleipnir with one simple task: kill a wolf.
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Entrant name: Rookeries Guardian: Sól, after the goddess prophesied to die by Fenrir's hand after giving birth to a daughter who will continue her reign. (doe 2, bare doe) Personality summary: Sól is one of the last remaining deer of another herd of old long ago, who gave birth to her three children with Týr alone in the northern mountains. She has lived by the impudence of wolves her entire life, having lost her sight to them at a young age, but her iron heart and unwavering will only began blossoming rightly after Týr's murder, and has since then become a righteous and fearless matriarch who lords over her children. Though she is not doting, Sól does love, but her love must be earned first by hard work and proof of merit, even if you are a child of her own; in that way, Sól believes that both trial and competition brings out the best in anyone. In contrast, Sól is also a staunch believer in fate-- you are born to accomplish your birthright. To those she finds valuable, Sól is a silent but plentiful beacon of wisdom, while those she finds expendable are treated with only the barest of sympathies and scantest of attentions.
Entrant name: ex o ex Snoof Guardian: Gleipnir, after the last and strongest fetter of Fenrir. (buck 2, bare buck) Personality summary: The first son, the eldest child, Gleipnir holds his rank in high esteem and has long since taken up the mantle that his father left behind in the wake of his death. He was far from pampered, held to strict standards both from his parents and himself; it is his duty to defend and protect the herd, he is its weapon to be wielded deftly by the blind wisdom of his mother. This role leaves little in the way of free thought for Gleipnir and he takes the word and order of those he trusts above all else, following their instructions unquestioningly -- above all others, the command he takes closest to heart is that of his mother. Gleipnir embraces the power of his emotions, making him an extremely fierce contender, and he is sure to put his all into whatever task is set before him and expects everyone else to do the same. They are all links in a great chain, all which must pull their weight equally if they hope to survive.
Entrant name: kotaline Guardian: Leydring, after the first and weakest fetter of Fenrir. (doe 1, pelt-wearing doe) Personality summary: The middle child and heir apparent to her mother, Sól, Leydring always seeks to ensure that she is best cherished amongst her siblings. Leydring is the cleverest of her siblings, an able tactician who deftly plans their forays against wolves in such a way that gives them the greatest advantage, but prefers to do her work from afar, sending her obedient brother Dromi to scout for her and serve as her eyes. In truth, she is terrified of wolves, and values her own mortality too much to put herself at any great risk; thanks to her brothers, this has always been possible, and she has survived unscarred while the rest of her family bears the marks of combat. She is strongly aware of her own weakness in this respect, and would do anything to downplay it, making herself out to be far more preoccupied with schemes than she is, and desperate not to induct any deer more intelligent than herself into the herd. It was Leydring who first requested to wear a wolf pelt on reconnaissance so that she might be less likely to be detected, and the pelt she wears is the pelt of the wolf that killed her father, the wolf that was killed by Sól, serving as a sign of her standing with her mother, her tactical mind, and her strong sense of self-preservation.
Entrant name: knife effect Guardian: Dromi, after the second fetter of Fenrir. (buck 1, pelt-wearing buck) Personality summary: Dromi is the youngest of Sól's children, and the most good-natured. Obedient to his mother and eager to please, Dromi has been taken under Leydring's wing, and serves as her eyes and ears in the field. He reports wolf movements and terrain details to her so that she may enact her schemes, and, because of his blissful optimism, harbors not the slightest suspicion that she may be putting him in harm's way to save risk to herself. Rather, he thinks she must be trying to help him learn to track and become braver. Highly attuned to the natural world, Dromi is somewhat scatterbrained and strange at times, but a keen tracker who notices what others do not.
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THE ROOK HAS SPOKEN: "...if they hunt wolves this season, their legacy will end in blood; no member of their herd will survive to see another winter."
Sól felt the ground beneath her tremble with the wake of lightning and thunder, each tide of sound seemingly quaking with the anger welling in her heart. The rook's prophecy struck not fear into her spirit, which longed for battle against the wolves above all else; how dare this self-claimed seer come to them now with nothing but a flighty bird's warning? She stood proudly in front of the rook and rumbled with anger:
O rook, learn this well: our legacy is not for birds to dwell On prophecies of blood on snow, for we know It shall end no other way; our thirst shan't sway For the death of wolves; our fate behooves Their end with ours, their bodies shall scour Cloaks of wolven hide with pride! But in our plight Shan't we see another winter, it would not deter These northern harts and hinds: we shall fight blind
There was no other way. Their herd was always soaked in blood, battered and beaten by harsh winds and gnashing teeth. A prophecy as this did not outwardly shake the large buck's resolve but there he stood, momentarily lost from their path, until his mother's words rang true. They must always fight. There would be no shame in a destined death in battle against their greatest enemy. Gleipnir's hooves crunched against the layer of snow and frost as he approached the rook and its damning omen.
Our battles are endless, our fears none If death is our fate, from wolves we shall never run Blind we may fight and blind we may turn Let the wolves die with us, so they will learn
Leydring felt a quake in her heart and a tremor in her knees as the rook finished his prophecy. She found that she did not have it in her to be quite so sanguine as her mother. If he had reached into her head and plucked from it her nightmares, he could not have done a better job of unnerving her. She had long trusted her fleet feet to protect her from the sharp teeth of wolves, and looking at the many long scars on her siblings, she could not help but imagine her her body marred by teeth and claws that had danced through her nightmares for many moonlit nights. After all her careful work to save her skin and hide her cowardice behind clever plans, would her family lead her to blindness or death? She felt anger at them, and then at the rook, who she held less love for, and whose strange wisdoms irked her. As her herd taunted him, she felt her fear turn to frustration, and her mind quickly made him into a foe. His interest was plain to her, as a doe who had often hid her base cowardice behind more noble causes. How could he be anything but a bird of her own make, hungry and lazy and willing to goad deer into dying for his supper in the name of a prophecy? There was no better way to convince her family to act foolishly than in forbidding them to act, and the rook must see that. Yet, what to do? If the prophecy were true, and she gambled that it was not, they would be damned. If it were false and she gambled that it was true, they would be damned. Wolves were not clever opponents, but here was a fellow tactician, and Leydring had no choice but to test herself against him. She could not let it end with one blood-soaked winter. As her family's jeers died down, she spoke:
If what you speak is true, the threat is not undue, And yet in my mind, I would not yet be blind. A new plan I will foresee, if no wolf must hunted be. The wolves will then hunt us, through all the icy brush, And snowdrifts thick and deep, up to the frozen creek, Where one of us might pass, but not a whole wolf pack, Crack will go the creek, and drowned the wolves will be. Betrayed by their hunger, not the hunted but the hunter.
So spoke Leydring, fairest daughter, of Sól's sacred winter slaughter.
The words of their mother were often absolute. It was her will that drove them all, that guided them. Even in the face of a blood soaked prophecy as this she remained steadfast. As always, Gleipnir was first to her side with his tall horns held high in agreement. The youngest was often moved by their conviction, their devotion, and as they jeered, he joined in with them. Yet, he was uneasy, and until Leydring put forward her plan.
My sister speaks quite sensibly, and as our scout I will lead, All the wolves down to the creek, while for to make a meal they seek. Defying the prophecy, would risk all our lives needlessly, But if one life risked must be, let the task fall upon Dromi.
They dispersed, and upon the dawn, the rook found a pile of fresh eyeballs lying frozen in the snow beneath his tree. Sól stared up at him, Leydring, Dromi, and Gleipnir her ever-faithful shadows.
The wolven eyeballs that we took, are waiting here for you, Sir Rook. Your prophecy is all in vain, alive and well this herd remains.
