Author: Xyros, Posted: Tue Oct 31, 2017 9:14 PM, Post Subject: New World, Old Faces [P, R?]

Tainted eyes filtered on the sudden lack of light and adjusted to the mist covered area that danced with movement. Screaming from an animal, snarls and jaws clicking, yelps, battle-cries- it was a whole carnival breaking into one destructive scene. Unamused with the flurry of commotion, X'yros trailed after the rolling wagon in silence, abandoning the canine companion to deal with what he thought the beast could handle. Heavy feet turned into soft padding as they felt the grooves of wagon tracks gored into the earth and followed them to a glow of light and more movement. The gap was quickly closed and his body moved to the braying mare that flung itself about with madness. The elves had unhooked the horse with the help of the goblin that held a sort of bent weapon in its hand. He hopped up as soon as the heavy draft kicked itself free to begin charging forwards. The goblins’ weapon cracked a loud echoing Pop, and the animal fell to the ground. He raised the weapon up and held it to his lips, blowing out the smell of smoke.“Poor bloody beasts…” “Help us get the crate open-”“Help you?? Whatever is attacking us is after them bloody crates-”“You were all paid to protect these heirlooms with your life. The King values these more than he values his own wife.”“Yeayea. That don't say much though…”The goblin hopped to the back of the wagon and held a lamp as the elves struck the large chests with a warped piece of metal to pry them open. The locks cracked and the lids flew back to reveal a mound of glittering gems. A second, and fine jewelry made so delicately they looked like pieces of ice. The third however, was a little less stunning as the first. A smaller chest, lighter in weight, and much less guarded. They didn't need to pry much before the lid cracked and a giant gold collar with two large gold-crafted ravens holding a massive moonstone in place was lifted by the female elf and slung over her shoulder. They began to stuff the goods into any pocket they could.“Is that a bloody belt?”“Seems that way.” The goblin snorted and retrieved a pack from the wagon with all sorts of weapons sticking up this way and that. “A’ight. Let's get that thing that killed Ginny and Cort.”He had an angry glint to his eye.The three began to hop down from the wagon and the female elf also grabbed a lantern and they headed into the direction of the quarrel behind. Something stirred in the mist close to their flank and they immediately made formation, all of their backs touching. “Was that the other thing?”“Not sure…”“Sounded like metal chains-”The female elf gasped as that metal clinking shot out from the mist, she didn't even have time to scream as she was quickly yanked, dropping her lantern and being sucked into the black. The goblin jumped forwards and tossed and explosive stick and the male elf began to fire arrows into where she had disappeared. They advanced slowly as they heard nothing, weapons raised and ready. They pushed the mist away with their light and began to uncover droplets of blood before coming upon a figure sprawled out upon her side. The elf sister groaned and they immediately rushed to her to examine her injuries. Multiple penetrations across her arm from a whip rowed in spikes that had flicked out to her. All of the gems had been stripped from her garments, including the broad golden belt. “I'm fine-” She groaned while beginning to sit up, wincing at her arm. “What happened??” The goblin growled while clutching one of the explosives.“Not sure- It was too dark…”“Hurry to your feet, Sister. We will have to leave the others as a distraction and continue on.”The began to hurry off in the opposite direction from the warring. X'yros had left them to their devices and retreat as he instead focused on the task at hand. He clipped the large collar around his enormous neck and pushed it beneath his armor with a content sigh. It had been a long time hunting for this. He had expecting it was only a matter of time however before it would return to him. Now content, the giant lumbered to where Olvar was still sacking the anubis while being thwarter back by the swinging orc. A light snort and the bull approached the smaller orc. He grabbed the weapon in one hand, balled his free fist, and slammed it into the orcs face. It was knocked back onto the ground and rolled a bit before coming to a stop. It certainly wouldn't be getting up anytime soon. X'yros looked to the sky, morning would be coming soon.“Wrap this up, Olvar.” He grumbled at the creatures locked in combat.He was all too eager for the sun, so he could test out his gadget.

Author: BadMoonRising, Posted: Sun Oct 22, 2017 10:19 PM, Post Subject: New World, Old Faces [P, R?]

A heavy paw lifted from the body of the half-orc, a low rumble bubbling through the fog. The source of the growl turned his attention to the small, shrieking thing perched on the wagon. He didn’t recognize the scent, but the shrill little beast seemed somewhat familiar in terms of appearance. Where he had seen such a thing before though, he couldn’t recall. The lupundra stalked to one side, squaring himself up to the creature as it barked orders, but his attention was stolen yet again by a more canid scent. Surprisingly enough, the human was the source, and he watched with keen interest as the man shifted not into a wolf, but into some sort of bipedal dog. A much finer fit to Olvar’s fighting style.

The eyes of the caravan had turned to gaze out in front of them, letting out cries of alarm and disbelief. Apparently X’yros had arrived. What better distraction than a giant armored lizard? While X’y lumbered about setting horses on fire, Olvar took a running leap at the strange canine creature, using his full weight to unbalance it before squaring up. On his hind legs, he more or less matched the shifted human in height, but bulk would be his advantage. His opponent looked thin as a rail.

The lycan used the surprise he had been granted by the fog and kept after the other canid. The pair exchanged snarls, jaws snapping together around extra fur while claws like daggers raked over chest and shoulder. The anubis was steadily being eased back by the lupundra’s relentless rage, but it wasn’t alone. Olvar was winding up for a staggering lunge with open jaws when a sharp pain slammed into his shoulder. The yelp was involuntary, but the roar of anger that followed was fueled purely by the fury of being struck. Luckily, the darkness had shielded him from any well-aimed attack. While the anubis took the break in focus to compose itself, the half-orc took on the task of occupying the huge wolf beast that had assaulted them. Olvar bared his teeth in a vicious sneer, ears fixed forward. A lashing tail flicked to the left just before he ducked in to swipe at the orc with a huge clawed hand.

The elves were both struggling to regain their footing in the speeding wagon, and once they had their focus was on disconnecting their supplies from the dying horse. The poor animal had gone down maybe thirty feet away, leaving the other members of the party to fight in almost total darkness. The light from the torches and burning body wasn’t strong enough to reach them from such a distance. Good news for Olvar and X’yros. Bad news for the sorry bunch of sods who had decided to brave the Steppes.

Author: Xyros, Posted: Sat Oct 21, 2017 10:12 PM, Post Subject: New World, Old Faces [P, R?]

The wagon had creaked to a stop with a panicking draft pawing at the ground and shifting its paws constantly as it desperately wanted to scream forwards at full speed. The reins were held back tightly as shouts and orders were given, one of the tan-skinned orcs cried out the name of their twin being dragged off into the darkness, being held back by surprisingly strong hands from the human…

The sound of death kept them tight together despite there being little they could do from the swirling fog but listen in anger and fear. The goblin shrieked at the group in his higher-pitched voice with a light sweat of precipitation sticking to his sickly green skin.

“Was that it? That thing took Ginnie! We can take that mutt on, C’mon ye bunch of ninnies!”

He tied the ropes tightly along the wagon and stood up, digging into a large bag to produce handfuls of dynamite he was about to propel in the direction of the wolfish beast that had claimed two of the members lives. From the human that appeared completely useless, he groaned. The black hair on his head thinned and covered his narrowing face and down his neck as height grew considerably well. Long, sharply pointed ears grew from his skull until an anubis took form with a permanent snarling look. The clothes it had were white and gold, and held a large septor in each hand. He’d be a considerable opponent. Once shorter than the orc pair, he towered a number of heads above them with his leaner body. The remaining orc, completely enraged, waved his fist and produced a chained mace and whirled it, swirling the mist closest to him. The female elf removed a pair of ring swords and crouched above the wagon with constantly moving eyes. Her brother still held the larger bow, tight. He was a quicker shot than his sister anyways. They seemed to be prepared for a small war.

Some sort of noise came through the mist on top of the snapping jaws of the lupundra. A hum, low enough in pitch to travel quite loudly. It seemed to come from every direction and quickly brought alarm to the group.

“Nay, that was not it…” The male elf said with a flip of his red hair.

The draft horse whinnied and began to back, move forwards, back again… It spooked and did a half-jump to what calmly walked in front of it. The armored giant was on his fours, neck arched back to even the height of the draft horse.

“…That– that’s-”

“That is it.”

“The Guardian..?”


“Aye… but they be sayin’ there was only one?”

The anubis growled and kept their rear protected as a few faces turned to observe their road-block.

An arrow flew from the male elf into the beasts’ eye-socket. X’yros twitched his skull to the side and it bounced off of his metal helm with a loud clink. He laughed, a deep, unnerving sound before his laugh suddenly cut short and his jaws opened wide. Another arrow was nocked and about to be released, the goblin was turning to release a handful of dynamite, the remaining orc turned to lash at a shadowy figure leaping in the direction of the anubis.

Flames consumed the animal at the head of the wagon with a screaming hiss from its mouth, and their efforts to unleash hell upon the guardian was halted. The horse screamed and took off at X’yros as it was coated in light. He simply stepped aside as the wagon went roaring past with the torches and all. The male elf had lost his footing and fell into the wagon, knocking his sister over, and the goblin was thrown from the wagon and completely into the dirt.

Amused, X’yros watched for a moment. The anubis could still see, but the other two scrambled blindly. This was going to be interesting.

Author: BadMoonRising, Posted: Sat Oct 21, 2017 12:01 AM, Post Subject: New World, Old Faces [P, R?]

The lupundra smelled it only a few seconds after X’yros. The earthen burn of a torch floating lightly on the wind. He stepped forward to crest the hill properly, standing tall and lifting his twitching nose to the skies. From over the hills blinked the tiny torchlight, pausing briefly when X’yros announced his lordship over the area before hurriedly continuing through the rolling fields. A very strong, very primal urge to chase it prickled in the back of Olvar’s mind.

While his reptilian companion took his time sauntering down the hillside, the lupine predator took off into the swirls of the gathering fog. The travelers had chosen their night of travel poorly. Outside of the other dangers that came with living a life on the road, they now had to deal with a dragon-like titan and a relentless, ill-tempered werewolf. The night would not end well for them, but it would at least, mercifully, end.

The shifter made great time across the Steppes, driven not only by hunger, but the raw excitement of the hunt. There was no pretentious noble around to keep him confined during the new moon anymore. He intended to enjoy it. Approaching the road, he saw the travelers, a half dozen or so, well before they saw him. A menagerie of scents were carried on the wind, from the subtle, earthen scent of elves to the thick musk of what smelled like a troll. He also picked up human, an odd sort of orc smell, and one other that he couldn’t place. He also smelled fear. An uneasy, sharp scent sitting tensely in the air like a deer ready to bolt.

It was thrilling.

Olvar danced over the hills, staying hidden in the fog, but parallel to the road. An excited yowl escaped from his jaws, not sounding dissimilar to some sort of twisted laugh. It invoked nervous chatter from a few of the travelers. Weapons were drawn. From the wagon came the barking of a dog. Golden eyes spied the smaller canine staring into the fog at him. Its fur was fluffed along its spine, tail stiff behind it. The dog’s barking seemed to excite the footmen further, and they hurried the wagon along.

The shifter held steady alongside them, about thirty yards out. His instincts longed to throw himself at them, tear them to pieces one by one, but he knew such a tactic would likely get him terribly injured, if not killed. Indeed, some of the training he had received was actually being used without prompting. He wanted to target the weakest one first. The two not-quite-orc-smelling figures were walking in back of the wagon, protecting the rear. They would be a logical place to start. The lupundra dropped back several paces, watching the uneasy men as they followed their little caravan.

The dog was still barking, but Olvar ignored it. He didn’t care if they saw him coming. There was nothing to be done to stop him anyway. The lycan took off with an incredible burst of speed, barreling toward the two not-orcs. Jaws lined with gleaming white teeth opened wide as he leapt, colliding with the two and dragging one down after the other under the weight of the lupundra. A powerful bite locked onto the swordarm of the taller, and Olvar only had to whip his head to crack the bone. The not-orc screamed as he was dragged into the fog. From the wagon jumped the watch dog, racing to protect the one who had slipped him scraps during their meals on the road. The man’s screams were cut short as the animal vanished, then there was a brief, snarling scuffle, punctuated by a yelp.

The wagon had jerked to a halt, despite the protests of the panicked draft pulling it. The only human in the party had rushed back to help, too late to save the first brother, but just in time to keep the second from rushing blindly into the darkness. At the wagon front, the pair of elves had drawn their bows back, arrows knocked and ready to fly. The entire party was on high alert, but not one of them dared move from the ring of torchlight. All they could do was wait, and listen to the eager growls of the shadows.

Author: Xyros, Posted: Fri Oct 20, 2017 10:51 PM, Post Subject: New World, Old Faces [P, R?]

The resting form of the giant quietly watched the lupundra with a shallow snort of contentment posted in response to the clash of gnarled words tossed in his general direction. Whatever, grump. Sliding his weight from his rump forwards to stand back to his fours, X’yros dragged his tongue across the wound that had barely been inflicted by the canine’s teeth. Not really much damage done, just dried blood to clean up. A few laps and it was gone. Amber eyes flickered to the canine’s frame for a second before his broad skull rapidly turned back to look past his bulky shoulders. His body was quick to follow this movement before his stance stiffened as his nose told him a slight alarm going off in the distance. Smoke. Faint, but there. Then came a bob of light way off across the rolling hills.

There was a building of a tidal wave revving in his chest, clashing and toiling amongst itself before abruptly tearing at his vocals and erupting from his jaws like a sudden burst of flames. A grounding roar screamed out from his jaws with depth and intensity that was nowhere near his mocking threats from before. This was a genuine territorial boast. It would carry on for many miles and put a bit more speed into that bouncing light in the distance.

Once completed X’yros simply strode down the face of the hill and disappeared into the swirling mists at the base, his strong scent melting into the smell of due and the rest of the musk coating this place.

Author: BadMoonRising, Posted: Fri Oct 20, 2017 10:07 PM, Post Subject: New World, Old Faces [P, R?]

Whatever fire burned in X’yros’s belly was relentless. His captor’s breath was hot and muggy, puffing against Olvar’s fur and assaulting his nose with the stench of a predator’s mouth. It ruffled his fur and made him squirm uncomfortably, even moreso than the fat tongue soaking his coat. It would take ages to get the musty scent off of himself, and likely ruin his hunting until then. The lycan squirmed now and then, testing for a loosening in the reptilian beast’s hold, but no such luck ever presented itself.

When he was certain his situation could grow no worse, he was proven wrong by a heavy hand settling onto the back of his neck, pressing his chin into the dirt. He was quick to turn and snap, but this time he couldn’t even twist far enough to catch the metal plating of Xy’s armor. With claws gripping the earth he hauled backward, but the jaws holding him down still remained. Squeezing out was quickly abandoned, and he raised a hand-like paw to claw at the monstrous arm pinning his front half. Needless to say, he did not break, or even reach the thick skin. He wasn’t even sure he scratched the armor plating.

It was at that point that the huge tusks threatening his ribs lifted away, and while Olvar started to squirm again, he was pushed off balance by the rasp of a huge tongue. His constant growling only grew louder, becoming a drawn out snarl when he felt it again.

All at once, he was able to pull his head out from under the log of an arm keeping him down, and he scrambled back a dozen or so paces from X’yros. Half of his fur was bristled with anger, and the other half was plastered flat by spit. It was infuriating, but venturing near to attempt a retaliation held the chance of a repeat incident. The wolf shook his head, the action continuing down his neck to his shoulders, hips, then tail. Though it helped throw some of the excess moisture off, the lycan dropped to his side to roll in an attempt to correct what remained. Upon standing, he shook again, then fixed a golden glare on X’yros, fur standing up in every direction.

“Gren karakos,” he snarled.

Author: Xyros, Posted: Fri Oct 20, 2017 9:36 PM, Post Subject: New World, Old Faces [P, R?]

Eyelids shut tightly to prevent any tooth of claw from flying into his vision if it slid off of the slope of his helm by some miracle and into his face. Thankfully, the design prevented this from happened. Instead he was still stuck sitting there locking his jaws upon the frantically scrambling wolfish-beast. As soon as his largest set of teeth pushed against his skin, just screaming to pierce into the flesh, the smaller beast stopped. Or at least, quit attempting to free itself. Snarlish gnashing of his teeth roughly told the giant ho displeased he was to be pinned against the ground. This had the opposite effect on X’yros, he was pleased to be forcing the little — down into the cold dirt. He was quickly reminded of how much he wanted to do this before. As the growling began to subside in X’yros in the passing of time, it was returned in Olvar. The bulls’ breath would most likely be found uncomfortable, like sitting in a hot sauna, especially as his saliva leaked onto the fur and his tongue pressed into the side with the aided jaws. Not minding, X’yros simply stayed put.

Finally, he felt the tense muscles begin to relax. With a low snort that blew into the mottled brown fur, the wounded arm was lifted and a large paw-ish hand was placed at the back of the canine’s neck. Almost to prevent him from moving further. He expected to be snapped at, he just didn’t care. As his arm was placed down upon the squirmy body, his jaws clicked. The tusks retreated from the skin, but were quickly replaced with a large rasp of a longer violet tongue coupled with a rumbling purr. Something you’d expect from a large feline. Not really something that boasted to be as reptilian-appearing as this dreadful giant. It was probably annoying to be have a large sloppy tongue glide across the furs like a pup being groomed by its mother. The giant attempted another swipe at the already wet furs, immediately releasing the weight his arm pinned the male down with as soon as this second action was complete. The limb was tucked beneath his body and his hips shifted until his toes touched his elbows. The jaws parted but this time crooked a little further to the heavens in the escape of a yawn.

A quick gesture of, “I really am not interested in this fighting crap,” and his eyes lazily fell back upon the quick figure. He questioned why this form of Olvar always attempted to shred him to pieces like a piece of paper.

Author: BadMoonRising, Posted: Fri Oct 20, 2017 11:10 AM, Post Subject: New World, Old Faces [P, R?]

As soon as his teeth found purchase against something, his jaws locked, and he gave his head a violent shake. The blood was hot in his mouth, oozing over his gums like water on the verge of boiling. The heat combined with the harsh clash of bone on metal plating was enough to convince the lycan to let go after only a few seconds. He released his grip with a small whine, tongue scraping against the backs of his teeth in an attempt to push the hot blood out of his mouth. Heavy paws stepped away, only to be held back by a grab from above.

Olvar snarled as he was grabbed, turning to snap at whatever was holding him. His teeth knocked uselessly against metal, claws dragging at the earth as he was scruffed and held down like a misbehaving pup. The lupundra’s anger only grew, and he thrashed in X’yros’s hold. At least until he felt the jab of a tusk on his side. The wolf stopped. Any movement could cause an injury greater than he was willing to risk. Though not the smartest, he had learned a thing or two since their last encounter, and avoiding reckless decisions that may not even work was among those things.

As X’yros growled, so did Olvar, none too happy about being restrained. As the minutes ticked by, five… ten… fifteen… the shifter slowly began to relax. Part of him knew that X’yros had no problem with waiting it out, and likely no problem with breaking a few bones if needbe. Heaving a rumbling sigh, the lupundra settled onto the ground, grumbling on every exhale, glaring at every movement.

Author: Xyros, Posted: Thu Oct 19, 2017 10:55 PM, Post Subject: New World, Old Faces [P, R?]

As the lupundra began to settle, so did X'yros. His shifted his weight between the two legs and slumped forwards, dropping his weight to his fours with a loud huff as his weight thudded against the ground. His rear dropped first, stirring the grasses as he listened to the quiet sniffing from the canine at every corner of his body. His broad skull turned to glance at the darting canine to try and get it to chill down, but instead his eyes caught a glimpse, a flash of white teeth. Cool to the touch, he mouth closed around metal and flesh along his bicep. The armor would absorb much of the bite, probably hurt some teeth, but the skin was already pulled tight by the bulge of muscle propping him up. The teeth broke the thinner skin in this body section. X'yros winced, but sure the canine would most likely instantly regret this decision. The violet blood would be hot to the touch, burning hot X'yros saw an opportunity as the canine was busy with the bite and attempt to tear his arm open. Jaws would enclose around his body. And a large portion of it. 

The bull had leaned forwards with his neck and aimed to snatch the spine of the canine, not to injure him. His jaws were tight enough to hold, but he didn't dare shut them in fear of bone instantly shattering. His long tusk-like fangs however would be very, very uncomfortable if they landed right between the ribs where he had initially aimed. X'yros pulled his arm back to his armored frame in the meantime, covering the opening and blood now coating his itching arm. His body heat rose into the air like a pillar of smoke as it burned the grass while falling. Fur would most likely tickle his mouth and stick to the rough as he kept Olvar in his grip with a low rumbling grow..

Author: BadMoonRising, Posted: Thu Oct 19, 2017 10:34 PM, Post Subject: New World, Old Faces [P, R?]

The swat from X’yros was like being struck with a falling log. Olvar was knocked aside as easily as a fly from a farmer’s face, and he hit the ground in an equally rough landing. Though the hit stunned him, it was a brief recovery before he was on his feet again, spitting a series of curses in the Galgazian tongue. The familiar beast was making grumbled noises too, but whatever was being said was lost to the shifter. At least in his current form.

Despite the anger still burning for him to fight on, the aching covering the entirety of his right side was keeping him back, just out of reach of the reptilian titan he’d found. He paced side to side, staying squared up with X’yros and snapping his jaws aggressively. Sharp ears were fixed forward, tail lashing in anger. Oh, how he wanted to fight, but he didn’t stand a chance in the current odds. Yet again, he scanned the other’s armor for weak points. There was one he hadn’t tried yet…

Olvar stepped to one side, his snarls dying down in favor of sniffing at X’yros from a short distance. He slowly stepped closer, inching his way into range while scenting curiously at the reptilian and the ground he sat on. The lycan drew as close as he could, keeping himself relatively relaxed in hopes of keeping the other creature complacent to his presence. When he grew impatient, he made his move.

Trotting lightly over to the Sang’Vii’s side, he approached with an inquisitive sniff, then abruptly rushed in again. This time he made a grab for the exposed muscle of his opponent’s arm.

Author: Xyros, Posted: Thu Oct 19, 2017 10:13 PM, Post Subject: New World, Old Faces [P, R?]

The laughter only increased in volume and forced his entire body to shake, the armor clacking with this jolt of movement as the canine launched at his throat. It was foolish to think he would actually fight this beast anyway close as he was acting. No, he would of have had hunted him first. Instead, he had allowed himself to be found. A heavy arm came swinging through to swatt the mutt to the ground, open-palmed and clawed curved into the blow, like a slap from a bear. But twice as hard. A movement, and he was wiping away a string of saliva that had been pulled from his own mouth as he had swung his head back to laugh. His shoulders were beginning to settle, and his frame died down. His amber eyes softened down at the lighter brown-furred creature.

“Oh Olvar, you fool.”

With a sigh and a smug grin still resting over his own snout, X’yros turned to peak at the horizon. No sign of color yet, that meant this small moose had plenty of time to release a pent-up pissy fit. The bull still had a solid stance, but he folded his arm and placed his lips together to smile down at the small beast with a bit of relief flooding over him.

“How long has it been-Right, I won’t be getting an answer out of you, fleabag. Still don’t understand the common tongue, I’m sure.”

A thin sigh was released and he leaned back a bit, the armor lightly scraping against itself as he did so. Wondering if the oaf would continue attempting to land a bite.

Author: BadMoonRising, Posted: Thu Oct 19, 2017 9:58 PM, Post Subject: New World, Old Faces [P, R?]

The monster’s leg was tantalizingly close, but Olvar couldn’t follow through on the attack. With the way the creature shifted at the last moment, committing completely to the strike would have resulted in major injury from the spikes adorning the armor’s heel. It had been a long shot, anyway. But one failure did not mean the wolf would back down.

As the behemoth of an opponent turned to face him, he stood his ground, hackles bristled and powerful legs tensed to throw him into action. Gold affixed to amber as their gazes locked. Hunched over like a gargoyle, the reptilian had taken a lower stance with a wider set to its feet; steady and balanced. The two seemed to stare at each other for ages, time hanging in the air between them. From lupine teeth hung a string of drool, snout roughened by a perpetual snarl. Every muscle appeared stiff as a spring, ready to launch into action at a moment’s notice. Olvar’s jaws twitched at the taunting click from his target, like the action of a trap not quite triggered. Hot breath rolled down between the pair, gazes locked until the reptilian let out a bellow. Amused.

That was enough to knock him back into action. Enraged by the other’s entertained expression, the wolf lunged forward. To leap directly into a beast with such an array of dentition was madness at best, suicidal at worst. Self-control had never been a strong suit though, especially not on the nights of a new moon. While his stocky enemy laughed, Olvar ducked low and made his move. His speed was nothing to trifle with any day, though certainly not when driven by rage and motivated by teeth aimed for an unarmored throat.

Author: Xyros, Posted: Thu Oct 19, 2017 9:35 PM, Post Subject: New World, Old Faces [P, R?]

Removing the item thrown with such fore that it had practically been devoured from the ground, his senses still kept a firm track of the furred mammal. It had darted behind him; something he expected. He did it, too. But the legs were never his first target… With a slight creak the weapon snapped from the dirt and returned to him. His skull tilted to the side to quickly snag a view of the canine that had just taken a step to launch itself. For as large as he was, judging distance was difficult at times, especially when he wasn’t completely there to begin with. He switched his weight over as the last paw left the ground, the motion of his leg going up drove a massive, metal plate-rod into view. Spiked at a tip. Beneath the main, two more. Each smaller than the last. The behemoth easily brought this movement into a third-step forwards after the canid landed into his body. Skin or not, the stoic creature seemed that it simply didn’t care. As his massive foot lightly touched the ground to take on his weight, his body completely turned in that moment. Extremely quick footing. He faced the canine with this sudden movement. The spiked chain was latched back to his thigh, curled.

The armored giant pushed his feet apart in a stance that lowered him to the ground in a crouch, now his muscles tensed and tightened for springing motions to take on this enraged canine. He moved much faster on his hind legs than he ever could on fours. Less area to leave open for the opponent. His attacker was going to have to go in head first, or try to sly him to turning his back. Just to make it angrier, hopefully to entice it to attack again… A click, then the guard shielding his face clicked back into his helm. The face was calm, a calm before the storm. In an instant the nose wrinkled and lips peeled back to sneer at the canine sets of nightmare-inducing teeth. Tusks, massive canines with smaller inside, large sharpened incisors; the works. His tongue pushed between his teeth to swipe greedily at his exposed gums, before giving the breakdown. He snapped his jaws together, an inch forwards; a common taunt wolves gave one another. Daring them to attack. His amber eyes fixated themselves on the golden pair. No sign of fear, no sign of serious intentions. They were hungry for the feeling of power, and-laughing. Yes, his eyes were wide enough to appear laughing- noting the corners of his lips, they were drawn up. Not even entirely pulled back.

He was mocking the canine.

Hands wider apart with those long, talon-curving claws. His eyes pinned the animal, and a forced higher-pitched growl rang out to further piss it off. This beast that was so familiar to the wolfish beast, was making a joke about it. It recognized this attacker. It had to- why else was it still alive. Why wasn’t it trying to fight, why was it— the growl turned into laughter. X’yros reeled back with a laugh that came from his gut, still keeping an eye on the wolf- He laughed with a frighteningly booming voice that carried a very long distance over the hills.

Author: BadMoonRising, Posted: Thu Oct 19, 2017 9:01 PM, Post Subject: New World, Old Faces [P, R?]

Ultimately, the timing of the hulking beast’s attack was fortunate. The lupundra had just enough warning from the wide swing of the arm, and so was able to not only slow his pace, but redirect himself. He danced well away from the powerful collision with the earth, leaping quickly back to pace. Golden eyes flashed in the dim light of the moonless night, and he lunged forward to circle the towering grey giant.

It was well-armored, but that would serve to slow its movements. Against such an agile target, the difference in advantages could be substantial. Damaging the creature through the armor, let alone the thick hide Olvar knew covered it, would be a challenge indeed. Targeting weak points with careful attacks would be the only effective way to bring this monster down a few notches. He refused to take another beating like he had in the desert.

As he circled, Olvar searched up and down the brute’s figure for any gaps, finding several open patches that lacked any plating. Getting to some of them would be a risk, but he was certainly up to the task. Especially if he could slow his opponent first.

The legs would be his first choice. The backs were completely exposed, leaving the reptilian monstrosity vulnerable if an attack carried enough power. Olvar put on a burst of speed, using the land’s natural flow to aid him. Once he’d managed to slip behind his enemy, he leapt. Jaws wide and claws at the ready, he lunged for the creature’s calf. Landing a hit would mean a violent shake from side to side in an attempt to rip through the tough leathery hide. Failure to do so wouldn’t be too detrimental, so long as he wasn’t stunned. Speed was going to be his greatest tool in this fight. The wolf couldn’t bear to lose it so foolishly.

Author: Xyros, Posted: Wed Oct 18, 2017 5:58 PM, Post Subject: New World, Old Faces [P, R?]

With vision lighting the surroundings like the sun was gleaming from above, detection of trotting casually brought his gaze around. It had been the keener sense of smell that had peeled it apart from his own territory-markings, his ears that listened to the soft patter of feet. When it had paused to finally notice his very existence, that was when the large bull decided to return the favor. At least show some sort of signal that it was painfully alert to the intruder. This was his land. Blood should of have been brought to a boil, if not, a light simmer in his veins. No sign of anger grew within the stature as it simply watched with boredom. The canine released a hellish sound and as a blur came tumbling forth. It was met with a thick shake of a neck which quickly trembled his flesh and brought on an earthquake of metal clacking together. It shattered the silence from the body and the weight shifted. Not towards the fangs baring at him, but away.

The eyes left the creature, the back turned. There was nothing to fear on his end.

Instead his arm shifted and grabbed a firm grip upon something coiled upon his hip as his senses still pinned the position down on the canine. If it was going to fight like an animal, it was going to die like an animal. From the helm came down a guard like the plate in the front of a steam-engine. A light click, and as soon as the paws neared enough for his liking, the Guardian dropped a weapon constructed for destruction. Metal jingled to the ground with jagged spikes erupting from the sides and ending in a knife-like point. Quick steps followed with one fluid motion and the weapon came to life. Not much strength was needed to move it at lightning speeds, and with a strong crack he brought his arm around to slash his weapon into the ground in front of the predicted canine’s path. Just a warning shot to break down any hope it had in a flat-frontal attack.

With the movement came the creaking in the joints of his armor and a low rumbled huff. Excitement was beginning to creep into the pits of the giant. It had been a long time since he had been challenged, or since he had come across anything large enough to make a meal out of. Over the past season, he had been extending the boundaries of his territory. A year of lack-of socialization has brought on this beastial behavior, granted he still fought and stood like a civilized being. He had been regressing past his roots back into his great ancestors of nothing more than animals. This made his intent on accepting this creature’s fight even more wicked. The urge for blood to spill with the mixture of mournful screams satisfied him, that was what he’d aim for. A slow, painful, rotting death for this animal. If he could keep it alive for a week, that was ideal.

Author: BadMoonRising, Posted: Tue Oct 17, 2017 11:10 PM, Post Subject: New World, Old Faces [P, R?]

The land felt alien under the gaping black sky. For years lycan had wandered his homeland, exploring every nook and cranny for treasure of one sort or another, depending on the form he took by day or moonless night. But this place was all new. The air ran through rolling hills of cool grass, fog crowded around the chill waters of lakes and lazy rivers, and the stars stretched ever onward overhead. But it wasn’t the same. These weren’t his stars, nor the plains he had terrorized. It was foreign, and unclaimed by any sort of being or beast as far as he could tell. Something lingered in the breeze though. It was a thick, oily smell that made the shifter’s nose wrinkle in disgust, oddly familiar in the strange world he found himself racing through.

As soon as his transformation had taken hold, it had been made clear that something had changed. He hadn’t been due to shift for another four days according to the moons that lorded over his sky. But it seemed those two pale faces were gone from sight, and who knew if they would return? The shock of it all had made this spell more traumatic and sudden than others. With no time to prepare, Olvar’s planning was thrown aside like scrap, and he was reduced to the madness of his first few months of changes. As soon as he was off, his more beastly side simply chose a direction and ran, unguided by any power from his humane half.

The massive wolf loped steadily across the rolling hills, rising and falling as smooth as sleeping breaths. He was young, he was strong, and he was without cage or containment to hold him back. Freed from captivity for the first time in what felt like ages. All of the beast’s anger had been festering and boiling, burning in his belly like a fire. Maybe it was that raw rage that guided his path, or perhaps the hunger for a real battle.

By whatever volition, the thick musk was growing stronger on the wind as he dipped and rose through valleys and stretches of the open Steppes. Claws like daggers pulled him to the crest of a slope, and eyes as polished as a dragon’s hoard skimmed over the land before them. In the distance, a boulder stood as proudly as he upon a hilltop, as though overlooking a domain. It shifted. The wolf’s ears cocked forward, lip twitching back into a half-snarl as he watched. Again, the boulder seemed to adjust itself where it sat. That was enough.

The beast’s weight lurched forward. It tipped him forward onto the edges of his claws before he seemed to drop down the side of the hill with the grace of a lion. Heavy paws kicked up into a steady stretch, pulling the two creatures ever closer together. It was then that it hit him.

Cold dust kicked into low clouds. The sweet stink of rotting meat. A hulking, brutish creature. A black sky over a boundless desert.

Rage ignited into a furious blaze, dumping a rush of adrenaline into the beast’s system. The fur along his spine bristled into ragged spikes. Strides lengthened. Any limited thought was deadset upon sending this creature’s blood back to the soil. “Gren hasvath!” the monster snarled, the words flying from his teeth like crackling venom. “Nebros gren votal!”

Author: Xyros, Posted: Mon Oct 16, 2017 9:44 PM, Post Subject: New World, Old Faces [P, R?]

Black faded out any objects that dotted the once beautiful rolling hills that had tossed themselves into the distance further than any mere man could see. Only the lit flames of a fire could lift the veil that covered the tense grasses and reveal a path to travel upon to keep from the marsh and other traps in the night. But no flames dotted the horizon. Not a trace of light on the ground, only in the skies. There rested a masterpiece in itself. The full galaxy exposed its entrancing depth to the world below, glittering with the burning suns millions and trillions of miles off. The only light the planet could afford. Through the night the faintest hue of green filtered across the sky before filling in with highlights of pink and blushes of purple as the lights danced across the speckled screen to assist in illuminating the forgotten grounds. Still, nothing stirred. No owls called from their perch, not a trace of cackling canines adding their eerie laughter to taunt those resting. The soft footfalls of prowling predators failed to make their way across the dew-laced grasses, nothing. If one quit breathing, the silence would drive them to madness. For now the foliage and tufts of pale had a trace of green from a display of beautiful lights above. Relaxing to all that cast their gaze towards the heavens. A light breeze that had been running throughout the night eventually died down and quit rustling the leaves and scraping the grass, now nothing made so much as a hint of noise.

It took about midnight before something erupted in the distance. A crack in the dancing lights. Then silence, before noise split the tranquil time. It gradually gained in energy, growing intensely as the wail raised and fell. A scream from a man, intense guttural pains of distress. It raised no alarm in the land, for there was nothing to aid or investigate. The dips in the hills hid nothing. No beasts crawled out of the foliage. All was ill, silent. Save for the traveler. He moved without a single sound. A professional that had adapted to the land it claimed as home, its new home. It veered from the howling scream and staked out a spot to watch what would come from the noise upon a larger hill. A stoic thing illuminated by the dusting of changing light reflecting off of armor like liquid. Guardian, those who called it, the one that had brought silence down into the land. Guardian of the hills, as it guarded nothing but the land. Anything, and everything an intruder. Those small vermin faster than the thundering feet remained hidden in their holes within the ground, those large enough to become ensnared, died. Travelers could not enter through the main trade route, nor could they leave. It became an overly aggressive, horrible nuisance.

For those with keen senses, the smell of fresh grass and a heavy musk filled the air. Everywhere for miles upon miles, just those two scents. Maybe the reek of death upon a pile of bleached bones, but little more than that. It was so unfortunate that the owner to those screams fell within the territory of the Steppe’s Guardian, for nothing would be there to save it.

Something dared to challenge the Guardian within his own domain, something foolish. For as the figure upon the hill finally shifted movement from the horned skull it had turned into a direction right before the whining burst of a lone howl. Low pitched and rough. The thing upon the hill didn’t move, it waited. It gave the intruder one chance to leave, before it would enforce nothing but a cruel death. The season had changed, and everything was fair game.

Author: BadMoonRising, Posted: Mon Oct 16, 2017 4:56 PM, Post Subject: New World, Old Faces [P, R?]

"What just happened?"

He had been carrying the saddle of his captor’s mount over his shoulder, water splashing up with each step from the rain earlier in the evening. It had been light, but persistent enough to form a mess of puddles along the path back. Olvar hefted the saddle into a better position on his shoulder, grumbling under his breath about being treated like a servant.

The next second, his foot sank impossibly far into a puddle. His body dropped to one side as the world seemed to disappear out from under him, the polished riding gear tumbling into the mud as the very ground swallowed him up. His vision spun into a shadowed blur. The sensation of falling made his heart flutter into a panic. The image of fog billowing around him became clear just in time to be swept away by a cold rush as he plunged unceremoniously through the night and into the frigid embrace of a dark lake.

Olvar lashed out against the water in a frantic transition from falling to swimming. Which way is up? Fear bubbled into his lungs, stealing his breath and pressing him to act quickly. The panicked shifter went with his gut and kicked hard. He fought the weight of his gear, but dared not free it lest he render himself unarmed against some bizarre attack. His chest burned.

A hand broke out of the cold waters, grabbing desperately at the air as if he could pull himself out with a handful of it. His head followed shortly after, and he sucked in a fresh breath of air. Hazel eyes instantly searched for shoreline. The chill of the lake was already creeping into his arms and legs, slowing his movements and weighing him down toward the unseen depths like an anchor. A sliver through the fog caught his gaze, and he pushed himself onward.

The distance likely wasn’t all that far, but in the cold and wet, it seemed like miles before he finally dragged himself onto the muddy bank. He was trembling and gasping for breath. Olvar stared at the ground on his hands and knees, time sliding along as he caught his breath. Water dripped from his hair and clothes, and profanities fell from his lips at equal frequency. When finally he looked up from his miserable place in the mud, he saw only fog. Where was he? And more importantly…

His attention turned to the dark, empty heavens.

…where was the moon?