Post by renegade on Apr 7, 2007 23:19:48 GMT
about you[/u]
what's your alias? dairrein
how'd you find us? rpg collection
additional notes. um...none
your character[/u]
name. renegade
age. approx. four years
gender. male
breed. white german shepherd
appearance.
Monster -the word has plagued culture for countless centuries. Yet what exactly is a “monster”? The common answer might be along the lines of big and scary. A more educated reply would be a creature that doesn’t follow the classic rules of shape, behavior, or character. Or maybe simply something(or perhaps someone) that’s atrocious. Everyone has their one little “monsters” and that’s something you can’t deny. Yet where do these fearsome beings usually come to life? In dreams, nightmares in particularly. Yet Renegade isn’t just a nightmare, he’s real.
He’s big. Standing twenty-seven inches at the ewithers and weighing in at one-hundred-and-twenty pounds, he’s colossal. Unlike his mother whose mammoth size is somewhat due to height, his is due to his actual physique. From his jaws to his chest to his limbs, his body is covered and layered in muscles. He’s a natural Hercules, yet he’d be playing the bad guy, not the good one.
Let’s start off with his cranium. It’s wide with immense features to match. Renegade's eyes for one, are two generous pools of auburn. They shine with a sharp red hue in all elements, giving him an ultimately Hellish look (across his right eye a deep scar is engraved to appear even more baneful). His onyx nose is squat while his ebon lips make for quite a widespread jaw located on a seemingly stout maw –thick with muscles for gripping. In addition, behind those lips was a marvelous set of forty-two once pearl shaded teeth, yet now a slight crimson tinged ivory was all to see. His top left fang is chipped into a fierce sharp edge thanks to a battle waged long ago. The murder’s ears are floppy and expansive, fitting his face perfectly.
From there the expanded hairs cheerfully shape his sculpted, broad chest. Many a scar is visible to a keen eye across this bust, yet he wares them all proudly. For his breast is a marvelous and captivating display of brawn that could intimate near all. The rest of his body is thick in proportion yet still coated in constant visible muscle (and random scars). His limbs are ultimately hefty and legs are a tad short –cutting speed off of the list of abilities he excels in. Yet his sinewy legs and powerful paws combined with the rest of his muscular self, make him a superb fighter. Renegade is obviously a warrior and nothing but. His heavy weight and great size ban him from doing anything crafty or sneaky, so he attacks prey boldly not bothering with being quiet. For though he isn’t great in speed, endurance is a totally other issue. Many meals he has to run them out of energy and then make his move. That also sometimes happens with cowardly wolvern he may choice to hunt. Yet when concerning fighting, this murder doesn’t like to play tricks and manipulate others like some do. He attacks straight on and ends the battle in the least amount of time while still enjoying it.
So, what does the coat of this monster look like? It was fairly short and thick, not really pure as to it was impossible to keep a white coat completely white in these conditions. You already know its short, yet what else? Comically enough, Renegade was blessed with a white pelt Scary huh? Not exactly, yet that doesn’t matter. Just the way he presents himself can race a pulse. The way the ground vibrates gently when he takes a step, the way his muscle ebb with every twitch of a nerve, the way he appears to be a Hercules-gone-bad; just the look of him brings the thought of a criminal to mind. He’s a nightmare and nothing but, even with a tainted white coat.
personality.
Cruel, inhuman, pitiless, merciless, sadistic, ruthless, savage, brutal, morbid, fierce, uncivil, enraged, unfeeling, harsh, insufferable, punishing, bestial, barbarous, gruesome, unwholesome, violent, discourteous, infuriated, crude, coarse, rude, offensive, repugnance, detrimental, aggressive, hostile, malicious, malevolent, treacherous, atrocious, invidious, aversion, detested, antipathy, abhorrence, antagonism, wicked, diabolical, mischievous; evil. How can you describe Jolt? Above were forty-five words that each fit her perfectly –especially that last one. This one dictator has a claim to fame as being the most feared creature around. Hence her nickname, the Deviless, for many a victim thought no one could compare to this she-beast but Satan himself.
Now imagine, what if a being took after her? Would Hell be damned to having two of them…? Thankfully, for the sake of all things good in this world, that is not the case. Renegade, may be like her, but he isn’t her. He isn’t evil -at least not yet.
Overall, this white has a similar personality (mostly relating to her in her earliest years). Yet this devil somehow is able to control such petty things as anger and rage. He, himself, is classically collected and calm, not some time bomb ready to explode at a second’s notice. Sure, you can piss him off –yet that takes work and he hardly ever even shows any effect of your toil; he’s too stubborn to let you succeed. The mind games his dam is famous for are also an ability of his. For dear Renegade breaks the stereotype mold of “all brawn and no brains” and like his mother, is damn near genius. He often mentally challenges others before he steps into just plain actions. But don’t get me wrong, he uses that strength and size of his to his advantage all the time –he just uses his brain first.
He’s as disrespectful, sailor-tongued, insult savvy, and arrogant as her too. He loves solving problems and doing absolutely anything to flex his brainpower and muscle power. Yet he also has his mother’s bloodlust as well. Incubus is one constantly killing anything and everything he can get his paws on. Not only does he need to feed his massive appetite, yet that warm, thick blood is what he’s addicted to. This addiction can sometimes even interfere with his thinking and he might just make a mistake on who he attacks. Nevertheless, he’s as merciless as the late silent offender, Jolt and purposely murders those who he feels will be missed the most.
He’s often is silent and prefers solitude. Males aren’t really what he ever wishes for company and he tends to show dominancy over all of his same sex. Females, one the other hand, catch his interest a tad more. His black heart is thought to be loveless, just to say that’s set in stone wouldn’t be right. After all, no one can predict the future, now can they? Nonetheless, his dialect tends to be only what’s necessary and seeing as he believes partners slow him down, he often hunts and battles alone.
So all in all, he’s basically just the same cruel, merciless, ruthless, savage, fierce, uncivil, harsh, barbarous, unwholesome, violent, offensive, hostile, aggressive, malevolent, atrocious, diabolical creature as Jolt. Though perhaps this nightmare, Renegade, can benefit any pack in more ways then even kown.
history.
She was beautiful, brilliant, and deranged –she was the start of it all. Demolition was and still is credited for the birth of the old and infamous Asylum –a pack named after her late mother. She came to the grounds as a mere loner and saw opportunity. Months earlier, the Everest had split up to form two rival groups known as Maul and Leisure. Those two packs were on the brink of war with the ex-mates Infest and Savage leading each side. She was the spark that lit the fire, she was the one who got both packs hurled into war over the murder of each of their Alpha litters. She was the one who began what rages on today. She was the one who started that faithful ban of rouges, outcasts, and traitors. She started it all, she did it all. She’s the one who truly began the war.
Yet today, Demolition no longer lives. Her life was lost years prior in one of those countless battles. But she didn’t leave this world and descend into the next without a legacy. She had her pack and her reputation. One of the smaller things she left behind in her opinion was her family. And though the Asylums were absent on their mother’s soil for the past few years, one has come back. Perhaps maybe even with a secret agenda to reclaim what truly is his…
Jolt knew what she was doing. At the age of one she may of still been slightly naïve, yet she was no fool. She was still the Deviless of today yet just…younger. And so when she heard the superiors of the certain pack she current resided in talking in low tones, she knew to listen. The Right Hand, a large mastiff dubbed Venom, was sharing seemingly valuable information to their Demoralizer, a petite stray named Vette. No doubt he was just trying to woo her so she’d allow him to have a little fun later on, but the disbolical child listened to the high-ranked dog's conversation anyway.
Venom spoke of lands far north, in the Upper Town region. He called them Asylum. Said about a huge war there his great-times-a-dozen-grandmother started. Demolition he called her. Said she was once the most famous wolf up there and all feared her. Everyone had wanted her dead. Venom continued on and on about how a mighty pack up there was named from her mother, . And how he technically held ownership of it thanks to his super-great-grandmother.
Jolt had heard enough. Normally, she’d of thought the Right Hand was just bullshitting. Yet she had heard before about this Demolition. Greed was always a downfall of hers. She quickly conjured a plan, and although she didn’t know she wouldn’t pull through with it in the end, she did it. The silver yearling silently had slipped away from her spying position and snuck into the occupied den two down from the lake. Your hierarchy in the pack decided which denning system your family received. Leaders and their offspring had the one closest to the water supply, the Right Hands and their descendents was next. The second room in the ware house is were the Angel of Death had entered and snuck about, trying to find who she was looking for without waking the others.
Venom was of eight years. He had many a mates yet currently the spot next to his was empty. Nonetheless, he had many children –ages ranging from six years to three months. Five separate litters of his lived in that denning system, yet the darling knew exactly who she was looking for. Anubis was Chief warrior of the pack at three years of age. He was a massive black and white molted brute who ripped with sheer muscle. Jolt had watched him for some time now. He was someone she approved of, he being wicked just like she. In addition, he was one of the most skilled fighters she ever saw. He’d due for her plans.
So what were her plans? She wanted those blood in her lines. Considering she couldn’t reverse time and pick another dam for herself, she’d have to do with creating pups of her own. Then her offspring would hold claim to the Asylum pack thrown and she herself could easily rise in the ranks until she could merely kill them off and become leader herself.
She had had pups before; she knew what she was doing. The Deviless quickly found Anubis alone, sleeping as she expected. Nudging him awake, he was surprised with her company yet things soon changed. Jolt knows how to get what she wants. And though the Right hand’s son had always openly said to the public he refused to pass his genes on, within an hour the Deviless walked out of that den with life growing in her belly. She had the evil blood she wished for.
To avoid the consequences of her actions, she abandoned that pack and took off. Three months later, a maiden of that pack noted a shadow in thealley. She went to investigate and found two one-month-old pups left. The white one informed her that his name was Renegade and he was instantly taken to his father. From that day on, the two underwent two years of horrendous training that molded them into the prime warriors of today.
sample.
His thoughts were scattered. Auburn eyes made a quick sweep of his surroundings, to assure himself that he was still indeed heading in the correct direction. Satisfied with the results, he headed forth. His steps weren't one of grace or beauty, but rather power. He took each step with boldness and good footing with his massive paws. His sheer weight left an impression of his paw pad in the soft dirt. This canine didn't care about trackers, they could follow him all they wished, they weren't going to get anywhere. His colossal head swung to the right, eyes narrowing in on some distant landmark in the midsts of the abandoned junkyard. He was looking for something and that wasn't it, for head just as soon adverted his head back straight in alignment with his spine.
A massive male was he. His white fur blew about him in array as the wind continuous annoyed the male. His coat -that was tainted with many other shades- was just a mess of uncleansliness. Obviously he didn't care, it just made him look more...wild, per se, perhaps even fiercer. He looked like a rugged, tough male that wasn't to be messed with. And actually, that's what he was. Yet that may of been what he was, but who was he? Renegade
The name would most likely cock a few eyebrows. He shared the blood of Demolition. Was there some sort of connection? Believe it or not, yeah, there was a connection, a major one. His movements creased to a halt when he reached a certain tree. It was once a proud oak, the largest in sight. Yet now, it was dead. The branches were leafless and the wood was decaying under it's very bark. Narrowing his eyes, he even saw the gleam of large, yellow orbs within a carved out cave in the wood -an owl. With its low growing branches and sheer eeriness, many would try to avoid such a thing. The tree looked haunted or something of that sort. Yet it was what the white was searching for. He circled close to the trunk with hesitation, stepping around and atop the large roots as he studied the bark. Facing north, he found what he was looking for. Engraved into the thick bark was an aged mark, yet a mark nonetheless. Three parallel claw marks slashing down the side at an angle, with an addition three parallel claw marks overtop the original ones in an opposing angle. Together it formed three X's atop crossing over each other. The mark, with dried blood till in its cracks, was horrifying to see.
A smile crossed his maw as he backed up a bit, staring at two colossal roots that sprouted from the ground that created a miniature wall as if to seal the mark away from the rest of the world. A small puddle had formed there, yet it's not what one would expect. It wasn't a shallow puddle of clear water were you could see little tad pools and creatures of the like. The water was...red...and...thick... It was blood. Red stained the entire trunk of the tree, scratch marks all over it yet the most deep and noticeable was them three X's. The intruder laughed coldly, staring down at the puddle of blood. It'd been there for...well...ever. It marked two things. Number one, he officially had entered the lands of Asylum. He was at the edge of the Shakti War Fields. But it marked the place were three famous wolvern lost their lives... Infest and Savage were once in love. They were seemingly the perfect couple, they leading the Dogan with glory. They had all of Everest to themselves, what more could they want? Savage wanted nothing more, yet his mate's greed had blinded her. She wanted a dictatorship over the Everest, not a shared power system. She had gotten half the pack to agree with her and they broke off from the original part. Rage sparked a battle between the two sides and the first of many wars took place in these fields. The sides regrouped and renamed themselves. Infest's side was called Maul, while Savage's was Leisure. And that was just that. Until a certain loner came across the once couple's arguments. She was beautiful, she was brilliant, she was deranged. She was Demolition, the canine who pinned the two packs against each other and forced each side to utterly hate each other. She and her followers had started the Asylum -the pack whom all hated- and from there on history made itself several years later into today. Yet what happened to the three founders? Death obviously. Their murders and murderers were never much of anything talked about. But this white knew what happened. And he knew all three of them were killed in this very spot, underneath the three X's. He knew that each of the three had been decapitated and their heads buried before the roots that kept the puddle -of their blood. Ages old was that blood, yet it was all just the founders: Infest, Savage, and Demolition. Sure, others would accidentally bleed in the puddle, yet it still was theirs. And the place was considered to be holy or perhaps haunted. Their souls couldn't rest thanks to the fact they were never put to rest. Besides, that oak had been in its prime until them three canines died at its base.
Renegade backed up a few feet, his front legs collapsing as he elegantly bowed down. He respected this place. The wind picked up, crushing the grass with its strength. Was the spirits of the three communicating with him? He smirked, hoping so. [/size]
what's your alias? dairrein
how'd you find us? rpg collection
additional notes. um...none
your character[/u]
name. renegade
age. approx. four years
gender. male
breed. white german shepherd
appearance.
Monster -the word has plagued culture for countless centuries. Yet what exactly is a “monster”? The common answer might be along the lines of big and scary. A more educated reply would be a creature that doesn’t follow the classic rules of shape, behavior, or character. Or maybe simply something(or perhaps someone) that’s atrocious. Everyone has their one little “monsters” and that’s something you can’t deny. Yet where do these fearsome beings usually come to life? In dreams, nightmares in particularly. Yet Renegade isn’t just a nightmare, he’s real.
He’s big. Standing twenty-seven inches at the ewithers and weighing in at one-hundred-and-twenty pounds, he’s colossal. Unlike his mother whose mammoth size is somewhat due to height, his is due to his actual physique. From his jaws to his chest to his limbs, his body is covered and layered in muscles. He’s a natural Hercules, yet he’d be playing the bad guy, not the good one.
Let’s start off with his cranium. It’s wide with immense features to match. Renegade's eyes for one, are two generous pools of auburn. They shine with a sharp red hue in all elements, giving him an ultimately Hellish look (across his right eye a deep scar is engraved to appear even more baneful). His onyx nose is squat while his ebon lips make for quite a widespread jaw located on a seemingly stout maw –thick with muscles for gripping. In addition, behind those lips was a marvelous set of forty-two once pearl shaded teeth, yet now a slight crimson tinged ivory was all to see. His top left fang is chipped into a fierce sharp edge thanks to a battle waged long ago. The murder’s ears are floppy and expansive, fitting his face perfectly.
From there the expanded hairs cheerfully shape his sculpted, broad chest. Many a scar is visible to a keen eye across this bust, yet he wares them all proudly. For his breast is a marvelous and captivating display of brawn that could intimate near all. The rest of his body is thick in proportion yet still coated in constant visible muscle (and random scars). His limbs are ultimately hefty and legs are a tad short –cutting speed off of the list of abilities he excels in. Yet his sinewy legs and powerful paws combined with the rest of his muscular self, make him a superb fighter. Renegade is obviously a warrior and nothing but. His heavy weight and great size ban him from doing anything crafty or sneaky, so he attacks prey boldly not bothering with being quiet. For though he isn’t great in speed, endurance is a totally other issue. Many meals he has to run them out of energy and then make his move. That also sometimes happens with cowardly wolvern he may choice to hunt. Yet when concerning fighting, this murder doesn’t like to play tricks and manipulate others like some do. He attacks straight on and ends the battle in the least amount of time while still enjoying it.
So, what does the coat of this monster look like? It was fairly short and thick, not really pure as to it was impossible to keep a white coat completely white in these conditions. You already know its short, yet what else? Comically enough, Renegade was blessed with a white pelt Scary huh? Not exactly, yet that doesn’t matter. Just the way he presents himself can race a pulse. The way the ground vibrates gently when he takes a step, the way his muscle ebb with every twitch of a nerve, the way he appears to be a Hercules-gone-bad; just the look of him brings the thought of a criminal to mind. He’s a nightmare and nothing but, even with a tainted white coat.
personality.
Cruel, inhuman, pitiless, merciless, sadistic, ruthless, savage, brutal, morbid, fierce, uncivil, enraged, unfeeling, harsh, insufferable, punishing, bestial, barbarous, gruesome, unwholesome, violent, discourteous, infuriated, crude, coarse, rude, offensive, repugnance, detrimental, aggressive, hostile, malicious, malevolent, treacherous, atrocious, invidious, aversion, detested, antipathy, abhorrence, antagonism, wicked, diabolical, mischievous; evil. How can you describe Jolt? Above were forty-five words that each fit her perfectly –especially that last one. This one dictator has a claim to fame as being the most feared creature around. Hence her nickname, the Deviless, for many a victim thought no one could compare to this she-beast but Satan himself.
Now imagine, what if a being took after her? Would Hell be damned to having two of them…? Thankfully, for the sake of all things good in this world, that is not the case. Renegade, may be like her, but he isn’t her. He isn’t evil -at least not yet.
Overall, this white has a similar personality (mostly relating to her in her earliest years). Yet this devil somehow is able to control such petty things as anger and rage. He, himself, is classically collected and calm, not some time bomb ready to explode at a second’s notice. Sure, you can piss him off –yet that takes work and he hardly ever even shows any effect of your toil; he’s too stubborn to let you succeed. The mind games his dam is famous for are also an ability of his. For dear Renegade breaks the stereotype mold of “all brawn and no brains” and like his mother, is damn near genius. He often mentally challenges others before he steps into just plain actions. But don’t get me wrong, he uses that strength and size of his to his advantage all the time –he just uses his brain first.
He’s as disrespectful, sailor-tongued, insult savvy, and arrogant as her too. He loves solving problems and doing absolutely anything to flex his brainpower and muscle power. Yet he also has his mother’s bloodlust as well. Incubus is one constantly killing anything and everything he can get his paws on. Not only does he need to feed his massive appetite, yet that warm, thick blood is what he’s addicted to. This addiction can sometimes even interfere with his thinking and he might just make a mistake on who he attacks. Nevertheless, he’s as merciless as the late silent offender, Jolt and purposely murders those who he feels will be missed the most.
He’s often is silent and prefers solitude. Males aren’t really what he ever wishes for company and he tends to show dominancy over all of his same sex. Females, one the other hand, catch his interest a tad more. His black heart is thought to be loveless, just to say that’s set in stone wouldn’t be right. After all, no one can predict the future, now can they? Nonetheless, his dialect tends to be only what’s necessary and seeing as he believes partners slow him down, he often hunts and battles alone.
So all in all, he’s basically just the same cruel, merciless, ruthless, savage, fierce, uncivil, harsh, barbarous, unwholesome, violent, offensive, hostile, aggressive, malevolent, atrocious, diabolical creature as Jolt. Though perhaps this nightmare, Renegade, can benefit any pack in more ways then even kown.
history.
She was beautiful, brilliant, and deranged –she was the start of it all. Demolition was and still is credited for the birth of the old and infamous Asylum –a pack named after her late mother. She came to the grounds as a mere loner and saw opportunity. Months earlier, the Everest had split up to form two rival groups known as Maul and Leisure. Those two packs were on the brink of war with the ex-mates Infest and Savage leading each side. She was the spark that lit the fire, she was the one who got both packs hurled into war over the murder of each of their Alpha litters. She was the one who began what rages on today. She was the one who started that faithful ban of rouges, outcasts, and traitors. She started it all, she did it all. She’s the one who truly began the war.
Yet today, Demolition no longer lives. Her life was lost years prior in one of those countless battles. But she didn’t leave this world and descend into the next without a legacy. She had her pack and her reputation. One of the smaller things she left behind in her opinion was her family. And though the Asylums were absent on their mother’s soil for the past few years, one has come back. Perhaps maybe even with a secret agenda to reclaim what truly is his…
Jolt knew what she was doing. At the age of one she may of still been slightly naïve, yet she was no fool. She was still the Deviless of today yet just…younger. And so when she heard the superiors of the certain pack she current resided in talking in low tones, she knew to listen. The Right Hand, a large mastiff dubbed Venom, was sharing seemingly valuable information to their Demoralizer, a petite stray named Vette. No doubt he was just trying to woo her so she’d allow him to have a little fun later on, but the disbolical child listened to the high-ranked dog's conversation anyway.
Venom spoke of lands far north, in the Upper Town region. He called them Asylum. Said about a huge war there his great-times-a-dozen-grandmother started. Demolition he called her. Said she was once the most famous wolf up there and all feared her. Everyone had wanted her dead. Venom continued on and on about how a mighty pack up there was named from her mother, . And how he technically held ownership of it thanks to his super-great-grandmother.
Jolt had heard enough. Normally, she’d of thought the Right Hand was just bullshitting. Yet she had heard before about this Demolition. Greed was always a downfall of hers. She quickly conjured a plan, and although she didn’t know she wouldn’t pull through with it in the end, she did it. The silver yearling silently had slipped away from her spying position and snuck into the occupied den two down from the lake. Your hierarchy in the pack decided which denning system your family received. Leaders and their offspring had the one closest to the water supply, the Right Hands and their descendents was next. The second room in the ware house is were the Angel of Death had entered and snuck about, trying to find who she was looking for without waking the others.
Venom was of eight years. He had many a mates yet currently the spot next to his was empty. Nonetheless, he had many children –ages ranging from six years to three months. Five separate litters of his lived in that denning system, yet the darling knew exactly who she was looking for. Anubis was Chief warrior of the pack at three years of age. He was a massive black and white molted brute who ripped with sheer muscle. Jolt had watched him for some time now. He was someone she approved of, he being wicked just like she. In addition, he was one of the most skilled fighters she ever saw. He’d due for her plans.
So what were her plans? She wanted those blood in her lines. Considering she couldn’t reverse time and pick another dam for herself, she’d have to do with creating pups of her own. Then her offspring would hold claim to the Asylum pack thrown and she herself could easily rise in the ranks until she could merely kill them off and become leader herself.
She had had pups before; she knew what she was doing. The Deviless quickly found Anubis alone, sleeping as she expected. Nudging him awake, he was surprised with her company yet things soon changed. Jolt knows how to get what she wants. And though the Right hand’s son had always openly said to the public he refused to pass his genes on, within an hour the Deviless walked out of that den with life growing in her belly. She had the evil blood she wished for.
To avoid the consequences of her actions, she abandoned that pack and took off. Three months later, a maiden of that pack noted a shadow in thealley. She went to investigate and found two one-month-old pups left. The white one informed her that his name was Renegade and he was instantly taken to his father. From that day on, the two underwent two years of horrendous training that molded them into the prime warriors of today.
sample.
His thoughts were scattered. Auburn eyes made a quick sweep of his surroundings, to assure himself that he was still indeed heading in the correct direction. Satisfied with the results, he headed forth. His steps weren't one of grace or beauty, but rather power. He took each step with boldness and good footing with his massive paws. His sheer weight left an impression of his paw pad in the soft dirt. This canine didn't care about trackers, they could follow him all they wished, they weren't going to get anywhere. His colossal head swung to the right, eyes narrowing in on some distant landmark in the midsts of the abandoned junkyard. He was looking for something and that wasn't it, for head just as soon adverted his head back straight in alignment with his spine.
A massive male was he. His white fur blew about him in array as the wind continuous annoyed the male. His coat -that was tainted with many other shades- was just a mess of uncleansliness. Obviously he didn't care, it just made him look more...wild, per se, perhaps even fiercer. He looked like a rugged, tough male that wasn't to be messed with. And actually, that's what he was. Yet that may of been what he was, but who was he? Renegade
The name would most likely cock a few eyebrows. He shared the blood of Demolition. Was there some sort of connection? Believe it or not, yeah, there was a connection, a major one. His movements creased to a halt when he reached a certain tree. It was once a proud oak, the largest in sight. Yet now, it was dead. The branches were leafless and the wood was decaying under it's very bark. Narrowing his eyes, he even saw the gleam of large, yellow orbs within a carved out cave in the wood -an owl. With its low growing branches and sheer eeriness, many would try to avoid such a thing. The tree looked haunted or something of that sort. Yet it was what the white was searching for. He circled close to the trunk with hesitation, stepping around and atop the large roots as he studied the bark. Facing north, he found what he was looking for. Engraved into the thick bark was an aged mark, yet a mark nonetheless. Three parallel claw marks slashing down the side at an angle, with an addition three parallel claw marks overtop the original ones in an opposing angle. Together it formed three X's atop crossing over each other. The mark, with dried blood till in its cracks, was horrifying to see.
A smile crossed his maw as he backed up a bit, staring at two colossal roots that sprouted from the ground that created a miniature wall as if to seal the mark away from the rest of the world. A small puddle had formed there, yet it's not what one would expect. It wasn't a shallow puddle of clear water were you could see little tad pools and creatures of the like. The water was...red...and...thick... It was blood. Red stained the entire trunk of the tree, scratch marks all over it yet the most deep and noticeable was them three X's. The intruder laughed coldly, staring down at the puddle of blood. It'd been there for...well...ever. It marked two things. Number one, he officially had entered the lands of Asylum. He was at the edge of the Shakti War Fields. But it marked the place were three famous wolvern lost their lives... Infest and Savage were once in love. They were seemingly the perfect couple, they leading the Dogan with glory. They had all of Everest to themselves, what more could they want? Savage wanted nothing more, yet his mate's greed had blinded her. She wanted a dictatorship over the Everest, not a shared power system. She had gotten half the pack to agree with her and they broke off from the original part. Rage sparked a battle between the two sides and the first of many wars took place in these fields. The sides regrouped and renamed themselves. Infest's side was called Maul, while Savage's was Leisure. And that was just that. Until a certain loner came across the once couple's arguments. She was beautiful, she was brilliant, she was deranged. She was Demolition, the canine who pinned the two packs against each other and forced each side to utterly hate each other. She and her followers had started the Asylum -the pack whom all hated- and from there on history made itself several years later into today. Yet what happened to the three founders? Death obviously. Their murders and murderers were never much of anything talked about. But this white knew what happened. And he knew all three of them were killed in this very spot, underneath the three X's. He knew that each of the three had been decapitated and their heads buried before the roots that kept the puddle -of their blood. Ages old was that blood, yet it was all just the founders: Infest, Savage, and Demolition. Sure, others would accidentally bleed in the puddle, yet it still was theirs. And the place was considered to be holy or perhaps haunted. Their souls couldn't rest thanks to the fact they were never put to rest. Besides, that oak had been in its prime until them three canines died at its base.
Renegade backed up a few feet, his front legs collapsing as he elegantly bowed down. He respected this place. The wind picked up, crushing the grass with its strength. Was the spirits of the three communicating with him? He smirked, hoping so. [/size]
