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Post by ˟ PunkWolf on Jul 9, 2008 20:30:25 GMT -5
{{open to all but any packs who are recruiting/ looking for members should join in}} Brilliance is what it was; any other description would lack definition and truth. The dusk above the plains was nothing short of brilliance. The angry-fire sun burned relentlessly as hot red and devilish orange, but the rageful colors that it projected painted the lightly clouded sky above with magnificent shades of violet, rose and even the delicate shade of pink, a pink that matched a newborn pup’s paws. The sight was breathtaking. The magnificent sky and all its rainbows of light colored the yellow fields into what appeared as sparkling gold rather than rolling amber. The long golden grasses danced to a nonexistent tune, swaying and rustling like short, thin angels, even though the land lay in peaceful silence. It was not a dead silence, but a silence that lovingly lulls one to sleep after a restless day, a silence that accompanies a den full of newborn whelps sleeping after their first meal. Brilliance…is what it was.
He let a bloodcurdling howl escape his skull jaws. He could have just as easily let loose a normal howl with the same meaning, but no one listened to normal, calm, collective howls. No, a high voiced, bloodcurdling call that dripped with a ragged low tone at the edges was more likely to obtain the attention that he wanted. The calm silence had be broken abruptly by a call to all pack wolves. The chilling voice called all and any current pack members of all or any packs to come to him. He wished to meet them, he wished to know them.
Roarik was quite a beastly form. His skull held no skin, nor flesh of any kind, leaving him unable to express emotions of any kind, if he ever openly experienced emotions of any kind that was. His fiery, golden hide hung freely, but still mightily from his bulky frame. The fur of his fore paws held the same golden colors of the grasses while his back held no fur at all. His tail, long and cat-like, ended with a wide and shaggy tip, colored with outstanding red, bright gold and even the maroon shade of dried blood. And even more beastly than his actual appearance was perhaps his great size.
The large wolf had no trouble surviving alone, for unlike other lones, the great Roarik had even greater abilities. Immortality had never been a burden nor problem for the great wolf, for ties to long passed acquaintances or pack members had never been formed, therefore, when others passed and he still lived on, Roarik lived on unaffected. And age, never being a factor, never interrupted his surviving nor thriving. Age did not plague his joints nor muscles as it would to others. Age did not cause sickness nor fatigue as easily as it would for mortals of his kind. Time was of no factor for him, giving him quite an upper hand when compared to other lones.
Energy was of another factor, for he spent little of his energy hunting for food or water, or searching for a safe spot to rest. What was required to survive came to him by other means. The long-dead art of the most ancient of all languages was known only to those who either were long-dead, or would be considered long-dead by age. Roarik knew the language. The ancient language was bestowed upon everything by spirits long, long passed. It gave everything, every being its true name, and what power accompanied the knowledge of something’s true name. The true name of an object or being opens a connection from the word to the energy within the object; controlling the connection is the key to controlling the energy and life within the object. The ability known as magick, included controlling separate energy but mostly knowing the ancient language. Without the language, there was no connection. Roarik knew the language.
While another lone would use their energy to stalk and then run down prey to survive, the task of hunting for Roarik would require the same amount of energy to merely life his large paw, for with the right words, a pointed rock could easily be sent through a small rabbit’s skull. But only with the right words.
So it was no wonder that the large Roarik had no difficulty surviving at the least. But even as life as a loner was no challenge and could be continued easily for him, still, it could be made even easier if joined, bonded to a pack. It was the most logical and reasonable thing to do, one where both sides could benefit one another and none could struggle. This was why he called to the sky, this was why he wanted pack wolves of all kinds of all packs to answer him. So that he may know of them, all of them, in order to make his decision.
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Post by - [s][w][a][y] - on Jul 11, 2008 17:30:15 GMT -5
The call had been heard by none other than the Alpha Lucid. Though the call was supposedly supposed to sound blood-curtailing, it didn't work on Lucid, for the dark Alpha had the same feelings and mind-set.
He raised his dark maw to the air, howling loudly and clearly in a deep, chilling, yet booming howl reply. Lucid was curious to see who this brute was and why he had called out so. In his need for a bigger pack and for power, Lucid had the need to go to and recruit any and all he could into his growing pack. The more pack members he had, the more land he could say he needed... slowly taking over the packlands in his own greed to overrule them all... he needed numbers... he needed power.
He slowly padded to where he could sense and feel the brute. He finally came into view and looked him up and down. He was built, yes, but Lucid was also built and this didn't phase him at all.
"Hello, brute. Your call has been answered. The question is, for what were you calling? Perhaps you are seeking a pack?" [/color] He held his posture high, like he always did when showing he was an Alpha and greeting any new wolf or potential pack member. He flicked his tails and waited for the brute to reply. He wasn't sure what kind of personality this brute might have, but he almost seemed to be the perfect addition to his pack... he needed more males, after all, considering he had an all female pack... not that he minded.... brutes just tended to be stronger.[/blockquote]
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Post by ˟ PunkWolf on Jul 11, 2008 23:29:28 GMT -5
As he had known it would happen, he was answered. Any pack member with one-quarter of the mental capacity it was expected to have would have done, perhaps an omega even would be able to relay the information that he would ask for. But Roarik was caught off guard, not entirely for after walking the land like the dead for centuries nothing is no longer unexpected or a surprise, he had not expected the call of one in a leadership position to be the one to reply. But before him a black alpha had presented itself, or hisself more accurately. And what an alpha he was. Great size and great bulk lead only to great intimidation upon others. His pattern, however, Roarik was far from impressed. A solid black coat would have fit the male’s form nicely, but instead great flames seemed almost as if they were painted upon his limbs and tails even. To Roarik, the wild, rogue-markings were nothing more than a cry for attention, and a petty one at that.
To the skull-faced Roarik, introductions had grown old centuries ago. There was never a proper one, and unwise and foolish wolves (it was hard to come by the other of late century) always revealed much too much of themselves, and others even without knowing of it. Within the time that it took for the alpha to begin his conversation starter and to end it, Roarik had completely analyzed his personality, psyche, and even partially his ambitions. The black alpha had sized him from ear to toe before speaking, he was obviously looking for something, and it was easily determined that the alpha did not mind having such a beastly appearing canine (such as Roarik was) as company. It meant that the black one saw something more, something beyond appearances sake. Having so far, revealed nothing internal about himself, Roarik determined that the black one saw strength, and therefore had been looking for it. And a strength-seeker was nothing sort of a power-luster as countless generations of knowledge had taught him. Roarik was sure that the black one was entirely oblivious to what he had just revealed of himself, mortals always were.
Nothing of the black one impressed, or even captured Roarik’s recognition, except perhaps the black one’s reaction, or rather, lack of. Since the centuries of the great dire ancestors passed, Roarik was always greeted with awe, suspicion, or even fear, if not because of his skull, the because of his unnatural size. Mortals were so predictable. If they were to find something completely new and different from what they are accustomed to, they are known to either worship it because of their great awe, turn it into something that it entirely is not because of their suspicion, or destroy it because of their great fear. It never failed, and because of his size, Roarik had been victim of all three accusations more than once. He had been larger, so he had been worshipped, feared, and exaggerated. But this black one had just become the only wolf of recent years to possess the height to look Roarik into his ungodly eyes. And for that, Roarik acknowledged an aspect of this wolf, this alpha who stood before him. Normally, mortals were mortals, and nothing new had resurfaced in the ages that Roarik lived. No new experience had ever occurred to him, but this black one had changed that.
Roarik had no feelings of the subject; however, it was logical that such a great sized wolf would either be worshiped, exaggerated, or feared. There would be ones who feared this wolf, there would be ones who’s minds found this black alpha to be inconceivable, and there was the third group, those who admired the power that accompanied size and therefore followed the rule of this black alpha. And because the alpha had searched Roarik specifically upon his physical appearance, the count of the ones that must follow his rule must be greater than most. Because with this one meeting, Roarik had discovered much of this black alpha, and what any mortal wolf would find out in conversation, he had known by simply analyzing and computing. And with the knowledge he had gathered upon his own means, Roarik had made his decision.
Roarik kneaded his front toes into the ground, lightly scratching the surface while he lowered his bare skull a mere fraction of an inch below the black alpha’s, it was just barely noticeable, even to one standing before him. Roarik did this only out of customs, it was a wolf’s custom that when seeking recognition into a pack, respect, even if not meant, was shown to one of higher authority. He maintained eye contact, the muscles at the base of his eyes showing slightly through sockets as his gaze moved slightly upward. Roarik’s eyes were wide, pale, and rather disturbing for lack of lids or brows to lessen their size. ”I will join your pack.” His statement was simple, and stated rather in a jerky fashion, the syllables separated where they should not be, causing him to sound either extremely nervous, or extremely uneducated. The fact that he cocked his skull-face curiously to the side, like a questioning bird, didn’t help his first impression at all.
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Post by - [s][w][a][y] - on Jul 12, 2008 14:55:38 GMT -5
Lucid looked at the brute, having no problems with making contact with his face, all things considered, and flicked his tails. He seemed to be a quick thinker, considering he had thought so many things about Lucid. Lucid had noticed he had learned so much from himself that the brute had computed all very quickly within his mind. This could prove to be very useful in the long run... with enemies and eventually my pack. Lucid thought this as he watched the brute bow his head ever so slightly.
He hadn't bowed his head noticeably lower... which made Lucid wonder if this brute had other intentions. He wouldn't be so quick to trust him... for all the right reasons. Lucid tended to trust others very slowly, even his own pack members. This was probably why he hadn't chosen any betess. He flicked his tails once more as the brute spoke... words that were almost from the mouth of one who might have been mute for a while or one that was never taught proper speaking. This puzzled Lucid for a moment before he replied to the brute's statement.
"You seemingly know nothing about me, though I can assume otherwise. Why would you be so quick to join my pack if it were not so? What is your calling? From where do you hail? And why be so quick to join a pack of a total stranger?" [/b] Lucid held his head high, flicking his tails once more. The brute seemed to lack a little respect for Lucid's position, though they were in the plains, which was notably no-wolf's-land. Lucid thought this and flicked his tails once more. One day, these lands will not be no wolf's land... one day, they'll be mine. Lucid thought as he waited for the brute to speak again.[/blockquote] ((You're making my posts feel so illiterate!! With your uber long posts, Punkeh. No matter... You're just good like that ))
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Post by ˟ PunkWolf on Jul 17, 2008 21:47:48 GMT -5
{{ Roarik says:: Much muse-is...had of me, Sway. You should...ex-pect nothing...less...than--that.}} So many questions, and all in one single breath. The black male addressed others this way often, Roarik noted how smooth his words had come and how naturally the brute was speaking. Yes, it was clear that he was cautious of Roarik, but Roarik had reason to believe that this was not the only reason that the black male interrogated him so. It was quite possible, if at all entirely probable that this black alpha always questioned others this way. The black one wanted to know everything as soon as it could be known. Perhaps he comprehended the great power that accompanied knowledge, but Roarik seriously doubted that. It was often clear to others that power was obtainable with knowledge, but he has never met one being who truly comprehended the connection other than himself. Power was knowledge, knowledge was wisdom, wisdom was control. Roarik had never come upon a being who made it past knowledge.
Roarik’s wide yellowed eyes stared directly into the black male’s glowing ones. The glowing eyes were narrowed slightly from curiosity and general questioning, but Roarik’s had no such expressions, his face was still the one of a being who’s flesh and fur had been peeled back from their nose to their neck, leaving nothing but the blank, expressionless skull revealed. The faded, tan skull cocked to the opposite side at the small angle it was to before. ”Many ques-tions...” Roarik’s voice was still was spoken in chopped syllables and curious tone, the jaws of his skull clicking together lightly as he spoke. ”I will...answer in-order. I will join...your...pack be-cause your...very presence carries the es-sence...of...strength. Strength, being what-keeps one alive-is sought by me to...survive like-it-is sought by...all. Strength, it is sought...by...me, me who-is Roarik, Roarik-who hails...from centuries be-fore your time, it is promised to-you. And to...join the pack of a to-tal-stranger would benefit both the pack of the total stranger...and myself, myself...who...is...Roarik.” He spoke, jaws clicking, strict and business-like, with speech ragged and tone unfeeling as a wolf made of metal and bolts.
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Post by - [s][w][a][y] - on Jul 17, 2008 22:13:45 GMT -5
Lucid listened to the brute ever so intently, straining to catch every word. This brute spoke as one with a mental defeciency. This made Lucid think for a moment... would having such a seemingly handycapped member in his pack. Then again, it could give him an edge, a sense of weakness where there was really power.
"Roarik, is it? Well, fair enough. How would it, in your opinion benefit the pack and the stranger to join a strangers pack? Are you loyal? Do you pledge your life to my pack and are you prepared to defend it as such?" [/b] Lucid never asked this many questions, but something about this brute made him want to ask more questions. Perhaps it was partly because of Lucid himself, having been the only male in the pack for quite some time. He was a proud wolf and was much more trusting toward females than males... or he may feel threatened. Of what he was doing, he wasn't sure.. all he knew was that he had to be sure of this brute and that he could trust this brute if it were to join his pack.[/blockquote]
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Post by ˟ PunkWolf on Jul 17, 2008 22:45:50 GMT -5
With the mention of contribution, Roarik rose to his full height. This was where the alpha’s questioning would end. He drew in a single calm breath, he would show the black male what benefit he could bring. His jaws seemed to creak as his mouth opened slowly to speak the same voice as before, only, it was entirely different. The voice was Roarik’s, that was true, but he spoke completely and fluently, tone low and proud, words bonded together and annunciated clearly, it was Roarik’s voice, but it seemed spoken by someone else. His hushed tone was a low whisper over the silence of nightfall. ”Shea-ten tri renkonshin noum tri uhn binv sli hvi, pyi Roarik hwnem thein vken wovn len yken wivn. Seek shn yken slin sli pyi, swalne whan yken wivnvn sli pyi, pyi hearten, pyi winvn, reignen yken renkonshin, be yken.” As he spoke the words of the ancient, the first, language, Roarik’s eyes seem to come alive with new light originating from his words. The black male would not know this, but Roarik pledged his loyalty to the black alpha, Under the rule of yourself, I Roarik remain loyal to your word and your will. Call when you need of me, ask what you will of me, my life, my service, through your rule, are yours.
The ancient words had been spoken, Roarik could not lie. The lost language was the first, and therefore the truth, the very life and essence of words and communication. When speaking in the language, one was bound to their own word. It was how the connection from the true name of an object and the object’s life and energy is possible. And though the black alpha may not know this, he would be affected by the magick of the words Roarik pledged; the words that he was now forever bound by. The black male may not understand the meaning of what Roarik spoke, but the connection between the words and the truth would be felt, and he would know instinctively what Roarik pledged. This way, the black alpha would know of Roarik’s commitment (for he was now eternally bound by his words of the ancient language) and of his power and how the pack could benefit. {{if you’re confused Sway, message me}}
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Post by - [s][w][a][y] - on Jul 18, 2008 0:47:04 GMT -5
((Not confused. ^_^)) Lucid flicked his tails and took a step backward when the brutes voice had become clear and unbroken. This took Lucid by surprise and he wasn't quite sure what to make of it. As the brute, Roarik continued to speak, however, Lucid could almost feel what he was saying. He was pledging loyalty, he could feel it, though he couldn't exactly tell how he knew or why it was. All he knew was that this brute spoke some foreign language, had pledged loyalty and seemed entirely truthful to it.
"Very well, Roarik. I believe in your allegience to the pack. Follow me and I shall take you to your new home." [/b] Lucid flicked his tails and began to slowly turn, inviting the brute to follow him. By this time, it was getting rather late and the full moon shone above them as he began to lead the brute toward the mountains.[/blockquote] ((I am kind of having writers block though.. -_-))
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Post by ˟ PunkWolf on Jul 18, 2008 8:42:22 GMT -5
{{well, we don't have to continue this, what's done is done, not all roleplay threads have to be over one page long}} So he was no longer a loner, just as he knew it would eventually be. But for how long, Roarik pondered. It was true, that before, many times before, he had been honored into pack life, and many more times than that, he had outlived the life of that pack, and even the life of the land it was claimed upon. He always took care of his body, staying from harms way, and keeping injuries well checked, for he did not want to die as the rest had. His ageless body, and even more-so ageless mind was something he wanted to keep within this realm. He would not perish from age as the others would, nor even as the lands evendtually would. Roarik knew he would continue to keep his body this well-checked in the future, and he knew that in his immortality, he would see the eventual fall of this pack of the black alpha's. Roarik took pride in how cleaver her was, though didn't show it. His alliegence was pledged beneath the rule of this black wolf, as long as this black wolf ruled the lands he currently ruled. Should he be overthrown, step down, or even perish, Roarik's bond of words would end, and bound by no one would he be once more.
Slowly he started behind the black one, following his lead, but unlike the black wolf, he did not walk as a normal canine would. All canines walked similarly, with their spines, necks and skulls parallel to the ground beneath them; but Roarik walked much differently. He knew the reasoning for walking in such ways, it was to keep oneself low and unoticable to either prey or enemies. It was a subconcious way that all canines held themselves, all but Roarik. He was neither hunting nor he suspected he sould have any fear of being hunted mainly due to his size and because of this, he walked with his neck upward and his chest large beneath him. Any other wolf attempting to walk this way may seem rather silly, but perhaps the way Roarik's body was sculpted made it different for him. He looked quite natural walking this way. The scene would seem quite backwards to a passerby in fact. The tall Roarik would seem to be instructing, if not forcing, the lower-postured black wolf of where to go, instead of the black wolf in front, leading the proud-stanced Roarik of where to go. But he did not walk this way upon those intentions, Roarik was merely taking his natural stance. If the black alpha demanded respect, Roarik would show what was needed, but no more.
++Roarik has 'left' the area++ {{i suppose we could continue this in the packlands?}}
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