[DND] Antecedent Encounter
#1
The brilliant sun danced against the earthbound snow, it's pack and powder glittering beneath the winter's chilled breath. The world a barren wasteland of beauty; it's alabaster blanket wrapped tightly around each tree, stone, and bush as if to protect the earth beneath it. Moist earth that was met with each sunken step of large charcoal footpaws. Thick columns brought his march onward, coarsely muscled arms moving stiffly to his sides with the rhythm. The beast no longer needed to cater to the pull of flesh upon his shoulder or arm. A month and a half was enough for him to omit any care that needed practicing and rebuild the muscle that was lost in the healing process. The warrior was ready to work himself and the mountain passed Gaspesia seemed more than the perfect fit.

He had been pent up for far too long. Social meetings such as Sapient's flopped Winter part did nothing for his energy level, not that it's success would have been any different, and trimming back the forestry in an attempt to create a route between his claim and Krokar had only done so much for him while his shoulder still needed care. Then the snow storm that had him a prisoner to the weather with a stranger from Krokar had only pent him up further. Of course, in such a situation, conservation was key. Shaamah had always been amazing at conserving what energy he had, and now that he lead a more civilized residence, he was performing the art a little two well. Twice now he'd disappeared from Sapient, without rhyme or reason save for a hunger deep within himself that urged him forward for darker goals. The last time had a great turn over, with two graves and a stronger bond between he and Akantha who was sure to utilize his services as Mercenary since that day.

Pray tell, today didn't hold such a gruesome outcome for whomever he would happen upon.

The hillside had become a steep incline, and the beast leaned forward to paw his way to the top of the small stretch, despite the Optime form he'd been locked into by contract. The feeling had since been so long gone that he could almost taste the snow and mud with his paws. His inner nature clawed at it's cage to be freed, yearning to lope in a feral form against the upward expanse, begging to try his muscles in their natural state. His instinct pleaded to work his body in the frame it was more used to. Unfortunately, the urges were silenced by the beasts' willpower as he rose to his feet again, fully erect in his massive height and bulky fiber. Dark harks followed a monotone crown to gaze down with a stern heterochromic glare over his traveled trail. He could see well past the trees at this point, but the whisper of Sapient's lands had not yet come into view.

The soldier returned to his physical duty, taking stride up the mountainside and walking amongst the trees and stones with a dedicated purpose. Ears probed the world around him, eyes wavering as they scanned the still winter vista. He'd travel up the mountain, until there was no further to go, and then he'd return to Sapient in due time, without a moment of rest along the way.
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#2
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Blood Stains the Earth Red,
The air scents of sakura flowers....
Optime | 3pm; 12/18 | Mt. Oromocto
So this is after kenji's fight with Misfit, so he is already mildly wounded. Nothing life threatening but things that would make him need to flee if it gets too bad.
WORD COUNT
000

Kenji was no stranger to snow, but he had been a stranger to the loneliness that he felt. Kenshin had left to head to the south for a few days, trading along the way so that they could eat well in this fruitless winter. Kenji had stayed behind for obvious reasons, he didnt know much of the common tongue and what he did know were more than likely words that would get him into a fight. He was basically useless here in this place, and it bothered him enough to make him become troublesome. He was bored, and hunting had not been going well, despite the extra help he had from his natural pelt coloring and the winter grays and whites. He had done the same a few days before, and while he had a healing wound along his stomach, he still was reckless, and looking for something to do other than hunt. He was hungry, and someone else probably had food, and he thought about mugging someone. Would that be above him? Pickings were slim and not knowing the local prey trails did not help the foreigner track down food. Mugging someone for food seemed more like something he would be able to be fruitful from.

The only thing he could not complain about was the cold. In fact, he didn't feel it too often because of the thick pelt that he had been graced with. This was part of the reason he had not been too eager to join a pack, because he felt like he could fend for himself. He also hadn't known the area too well and had been hanging out in Mt. Oromocto a lot rather than exploring the entirety of Nova Scotia. Kenji was not used to never ending land, and he was slightly intimidated at the expanse of the territory that he had explored, and since he had been not only wounded from that little pesky wanna-be ninja, he also had found a nice cave that he enjoyed the view of in the mountain and he sortof didn't want to leave.

Kenji sighed and took perch in a tree, dark eyes cast to his surroundings, and ears on high alert to the minimal sounds of the silent winter's day. He was as bored as always, but part of his way was to wait until another came about, and seeing as that he had met quite a few wolves on this mountain before, he was sure it was not so unpopular to the foot of a curious luperci. He would eat, and it would be tonight, whether he had to steal it or kill for it, he would definitely get something.

Minutes strolled by of nothing but cold stillness, the assassin poised in a perched position upon a sturdy branch in a high tree. He waited patiently, and he was not disappointed with what he had let his eyes land upon. A heavily scarred male, fit, and with a pack's scent. Kenji realized immediately that he was from Miwa's pack, and hesitated. He needed a moment to weigh his options. What if the male spoke his language and would peacefully give over a meal? Kenji was still, and his weapon stayed withdrawn in it's hook on his side. Maybe the male wouldn't notice if Kenji was silent, but then again, one did not get away from that many battles without them becoming somewhat paranoid about their surroundings.


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¯\_(ツ)_/¯
#3
His gait was a rhythm, his muscles working in tandem to heft his great weight over the fallen trees, granite and other obstacles that donned his path. With each exhale, a humid burst erupted from his nostrils in a light fog against the chill in the still air. Even with the cold touch against his scars, the beast's blood was warming up. The fast flow of warm blood rushing without pain through his shoulder aided his posture. His center was at a perfect operating temperature, his joints moving seamlessly with the warmth, and his pastel snout taking in what chill it could to keep him at this prime temperature. Activity like this would be avoided in the heat of the summer, but with his injury he would have pushed himself either way. It was good timing that he just happened to be bitten by a blade near winter's early touch.

He'd made a good distance in such a short time, but the point of this self-appointed mission wasn't the art of keeping pace. He needed to work himself, just as any horse. If he was not in prime shape, he'd be in miserable form. With as large as he is, there wasn't a doubt in his mind that all that past damage was only held together by muscle alone. Letting himself go could mean his end, far before battle could ever lay claim to it's faithful warrior. The thought fueled his movement onward, that was, until the silence that lingered over him held a very different taste than before.

The beast halted in his tracks, harks rear facing as stern eyes reached forward. His gaze was sentient as it touched each movement that came across his path, and what movement there was in this desolate winterland was slim. Nothing against the earth called to him. The shadows in the distance did not forebode. Hackles lifted. The hush of the icey world grew sharp, but the beast would not turn. Dark harks remained aft as he regained his pace and continued his trek up the mountainside. If he'd already come and passed whatever it was that called to his instinct had two options at this point. His halt was his warning. Taking up pace again was his offering. If there was anything out there that tracked him, or had simply come near, they had the opportunity to move on and leave the beast be. If not, then the warrior was well endowed to react in any way he would so choose.

Foot-paws moved over obstacles now at a much more wary pace. Each footfall was marked in the silence, each shift in the fabric that covered him retained. He did not move quietly, but he moved with less purpose and less direction. If his location was already compromised, a retreat was not an option for a beast like him. Not only this, but retreat had only come once before in his life. It lead him to this place that lacked the very war that he had been bred in, that he had blossomed in, and just as well, had fallen from. Some could say the turning of time was in his favor, that he might have had a second chance in all of this. A second chance, however, was not something he desired, and his lacking silence as he moved through the snow would only prove it.
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#4
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OROCHI KANSHINJOU KENJI
What do you want to see? me ni mieru mono?
Optime | Night | Mt. Oromocto
Bloop have a post. Sorry for the short though ;-;
WORD COUNT
339

Kei recognized that he had a choice here, and this was part of the reason he did not move from his perch was because of the fact that he had to choose between quelling his anger on the male or asking about Sapient. The male looked as if he would be a formidable opponent and before they were on the same side, it would be nice to see what he was truly made of, and this is what fueled his decision. He nodded his head to himself silently, but made no facial twist to make it seem like he had any certain emotion towards his decision. He had no other thoughts towards his decision other than excitement for the opportunity to interact with a obvious warrior. He would have guessed slave too but there was no collar, no master, and the male was much too ripped to be a slave. Not unless he was a fighter, but even then the beast would not be able to roam this far from Sapient.

He dropped down from his perch, a loud thud in the snow. It was cold, but as soon as the male came to his feet, he was relieved of the cold feeling on his hands. You know Max?growled the Akita man. The other was a giant, even compared to the solid form of the ninja, but Kei also noted that if he was so big, than he must not be so fast, which while it was not his strong suit, Kei was still amble to get some speed on him, especially with counters. <"You're an ugly one aren't you?"> he expected the other to not understand him, but he still spoke his mind, now that he was close enough to see even more scars than he had from farther away.

You fight? he growled, as his nose pointed in his direction and he lifted a lip lightly. He wondered how the male would take his questions. Why did the other male smell like Max anyhow?


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¯\_(ツ)_/¯
#5
[[OOC: No matter! o3o Do what ya can!

WC: 616]]

The quiet that moved beneath the trees was shattered by the shiver of the branches, frozen and barren of their leaves, rattling behind him. The pivot on his hips had already begun, his glare reaching over his shoulder as the hidden threat revealed itself from the trees. One coiled leg pressed against the snow laden earth, turning the beast upon one foot until he faced his new opponent. The ashen faced dogman rose from the icy blanket, confronting Shaamah with a growl and a demand.

Immediately, the beast had found disdain for him. A rouge, with no scent allegiance that confronted a soldier of Sapient with a question, wasn't going to achieve an answer. Heterochromic eyes bore into his new found enemy, dark harks rolling back as his winter thickened nape stood tall from the crest of his neck and down straight to his hips. It wasn't often that he was presented with an opponent that sought solace among branches, due to the weight of many Optime Luperci and the fact that the lighter Lupus form didn't have much in the way of thumbs. Even so, it wasn't often that Shaamah granted answers to loners near the borders of his claim.

The idea that this stranger knew of a man named Max brought about more curiosity into his existence here. There wouldn't be any reveal of what Shaamah knew, and for all the beast knew, there were two Max's that roamed this land. What were the odds? He wouldn't consider. This stranger wouldn't be graced with any answers, much less the body language to reveal these answers. For all this Akita man would know, Shaamah hadn't even heard the words he'd spoken. The warrior would have to have a word with the scholar, questioning his outside activities. Even if the soldier worked with the golden coywolf, Shaamah's allegiance with Sapient would always come first. After all, Max had called for him to join their ranks. If suspicious activities were afoot, it was his position to find them solved.

Words escaped the cur's throat, a familiar way of speaking having been present in a trio of those who opposed him. Sakura. Ito Miwa. And finally, this man. The beast wouldn't consider it coincidence, not until he'd have more information on what exactly this one's purpose was so close to Sapient. Sakura hadn't gained his favor, her roaming near borders being a fault of hers, as well. He wouldn't even get started with Ito Miwa, but the similarity solely in language that they shared layered his mouth with a taste that he hadn't found in years. Forbid this man manage Sapient's claim, for the sharp eye of the wary warrior would be fast upon him. Mutiny was not taken lightly upon this beast's shoulders, simply on principle.

One final question emerged as the rouge's throat roiled. The warrior would still not grant this man the honor of his lexis, or the lacking pleasantries, for that matter. The cur wasn't worth the words wasted, but this time, action would suffice. Shoulders squared atop broad chest while thick arms braced with clenched fists at his waist. His footing was spread, his weight distributed on coiled legs. Black lips lifted beneath the pastel pink of his snout, ivory weapons revealed under the silver of his muzzle that wrinkled in contest. A snarl, low and threatening, reached from the depth of his chest as he licked his fangs with one quick lap of his tongue. Oh, yes, Shaamah could fight. The question therein lies; was this cur prepared for it?
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#6
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OROCHI KANSHINJOU KENJI
I did not know that someone died in my sleep last night,
Optime | Night | Mt. Oromocto
I need to be quicker with kei posts >.<'
WORD COUNT
528

Kei had found someone worthy of fight, finally and this made the male actually smile a terrible yellowed smile that glowed with ferocity as he let the cheshire-like grin form on his maw. This was what was exciting, a fight with someone who was formidable. This would not be like the fight with the little chicken-shit mutt that he had come across only days earlier. He still bore a wound to his side, covered from view by the bandage that was wrapped around it and then again by the silk garment that he wore on his torso. The kimono had seen many battles and had been repaired several times, but Kei also took to taking the garment off because his tailor was back in Japan, not here in this foreign land. Kei's tail was still, and the terrible smile turned into a snarl on a dime. The other did not speak. Kei did not need him to speak, for his body did so for him. The growl erupted from his maw accordingly, and he too adjusted himself for this fight. His left arm pulled into his sleeves and then he pushed through the front of the robe-like garment and let the sleeve fall to his side, and then repeated the action with his right arm to keep his chain from being stuck in the kimono. His bare chest revealed his wound on his side, but it also revealed his own actual muscular stature. Kei believed that he sized up well compared to the giant, but this was not the only thing that would determine the winner in this battle.

He rolled his shoulders and shook out his pelt lightly, making his fur pinprick and have him appear only slightly bigger than he actually was. He felt his tail wave back and forth in a threatening manner. What this really was was a test of Sapient's forces, to see if he could be an asset while not having being the only one that was formidable. Even if he knew it or not, Kei was only playing a giant game with the male that he was not aware that he was playing. Kenji also was not the best at expressing himself so he did not show that this was all a game, or maybe he didn't realize that he was playing a game. It was hard to tell with Kenji, but the fact that the male even had any instance of a smile on his face meant that he had some ulterior motives to why he was picking a fight with this male. The soft swinging of the chain started up as Kenji prepared to attack the other, and the other's own defensive stance made him wonder what kind of fighter he was, but the clenched fists made him think the other was good at hand to hand. Kenji would make sure to not let him come close.

<"I dare you to move."> growled the male before he thrusted the kyoketsu in the male's direction, giving the male a straight on attack to see what he would do in reaction to it.


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¯\_(ツ)_/¯
#7
WC: 858

While Shaamah had prepared himself instantly at the threat presented to him, this stranger had certainly decided to take his pleasant time, much to the dismay of the warrior. He'd seen this before, in Sakura and her guard dog. That Dane woman had her jaw nearly removed by the beast as she tested him, not once considering the fact that Shaamah would not waste a single moment in leveling her. While the man grinned before removing his clothing, showing more empathy for the fabric than Shaamah was capable in his entire being, the warrior removed the snarl from his maw and a more stern countenance laced his features. Conversely, the rouge's suspicious beam had been held captive by a set of jaws that threatened. The silly show this cur had put on did not leave the soldier impressed. The blatant lack of a combatant respect and clear absence of self preservation that plagued the dogman were more detestable than anything this man might every let slip through his mouth. Of course, Shaamah never seemed pleased with loners.

Despite that weapon that the other had produced, and the revealing of his lean body type, the beast hadn't removed the feral heterochromic gaze from the deep amethyst sunken beneath the fringe of an ebon curtain. Lean and slight compared to the beast, this man would likely run circles around him. With a weapon, Shaamah would hold a disadvantage for only as long as it would take to land a single strike on the rogue. The beast knew this. The dogman surely knew this. That's why his blade hung on the end of a chain.

What Shaamah had in his repertoire of experience, however, could contest this. The element of surprise was a beautifully constructed strategy. Position, silence and patience lead to an easy startle for those who attacked from shadows, but when two warriors would come face to face on the battlefield, muscles coiled and each eye diligent for movement, it wasn't an easy task to accomplish. The rouge must have found his way around this with the chain that linked to the hind end of his weapon, but Shaamah was no different in this sense. Even unarmed, he had a few methods of ensuring his own survival that wielded an amazing shock factor to those who had never witnessed the likes of it.

Firstly, no fight was to be considered a 'test'. It was a fools errand. He wouldn't need to tempt a stranger into murdering him in order to figure out if he was 'good' enough. The warrior was once a king and led a small army against a nation for longer than they should have survived. The fact that he was present was reason enough to know that he was and able and talented soldier. That should be enough for any man, especially when one's trophy closet was worn directly upon the skin. Secondly, his abilities in taking force and redirecting it to lessen impact and gain a closer target for a lethal strike were a great aid in his continued survival. Intense gaze bore into the man across from him. He'd take this battle seriously soon enough, if not too late.

A growl tore through the silence as the cur found his voice and the initiative, one that Shaamah had been waiting for all this time, and threw his blade with direction and skill. The fine edge cut through the space between them quickly, it's vertical aim prepared to take a bite into Shaamah's thick hide. While he certainly wasn't quick enough to get out of the way, a very contesting eye rested on the dogman as his arm whipped up from his side and claimed the blade's path. His back, hips and footing had remained static, save for the shiver of the snapped motion. A closed fist had found the flat metal of the blade's side, knocking it clear of it's target for the moment. It wasn't without injury, as the diamond sharp edge lapped softly against his arm. It had been nothing compared to the blade that had caught him at the bar, but he'd no one to defend. The blade was allowed to fall where it may, and the surface wound that he'd gained would not have Shaamah altering his method.

Tapered pupils rested in chilled ice and hateful amber as his gaze challenged the man who had dared him move. This was for only a moment until his vision had finally fallen from the man's countenance. Attention rested on the arm that gathered the chain. Shaamah could only assume that the metal links would convey the next turn this dogman would attempt, seeing as he was currently unarmed of his dagger. The beast had been assaulted with chain before, but never with a blade attached to the end. Whether he would learn anything from this fight was still to be considered, however. Offering your opponent a tether that lead to you, when the advantage of size was in their hands, had never work well.
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#8
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OROCHI KANSHINJOU KENJI
I tried to reach the phone, but in the darkness I knocked over the light,
Optime | Night | Mt. Oromocto
I need to be quicker with kei posts >.<'
WORD COUNT
715

His preparation of this battle was not much of a show, but more so an act of his seriousness. He hadn't taken his garment off for Yatagarasu and that was a sign of defiance. To take the warrior in front of him serious, he needed to be free of his flowing garment though he made no motion to take his pants off. He would do fine with his pants on, for his shirt was more important. The male's dark eyes were pinned on the Sapient member, the thirst for bloodshed soon washing over him, and reasoning soon too would be gone from the ninja. Kenji was never known for his reason in the middle of battle, rather he had been known only for his ruthlessness and his deadliness. He was not known for fear or hesitance, and he would not start being known for it now. He easily swung his blade through the air and once it came close to the giant, he guarded simply by thrusting his arm to the side, though the edge of the blade drew the first blood of this battle, and while this would have made anyone smile in accomplishment, he knew that this was nothing to the other male. He would easily just add the wound to the large amount of scars that he already bore.

Kenji had his own scars, but he was graced with fur thick that covered the many scars of his own, especially the one that he found the most embarrassing, and the one that weighed on him the most. Had his comrade not saved his life, he would be dead by that scar, but he wasn't, no, he was merely a stitched man, having had many stitches to pull his skin back together after long hard battles that he had been forced into as a younger adult. One would think that a child that was forced into fighting at a young age, one that knew nothing of the world but fighting would grow to despise themselves, but no, Kei did not regret what he was. He was proud of who he was, and he would always be a monster. He knew this and accepted it long ago, before his children were born.

Dark eyes were still pinned on him, only briefly shifting to glance at the position of his knife that had been knocked to the ground. The male became light on his feet, for his weapon did use a lot of bodily momentum to actually become a good defensive weapon. He shifted to the right, and twirled around two times to make the blade get back into the air and swipe towards the male again. This one was a sweeping motion that at first was towards the other male's ankles because of it's position on the floor when he started to move the chain once more. It then rose and swept in a diagonal path upwards as the male came to the end of his second spin. Once it was back in the air again, he stilled his body and his eyes turned back to the gray pelted male, and the blade went in a long helicopter fashion over Kenji's head as he had one hand raised in the air, his wrist motioning for it to keep spinning. If the male was to test his speed and try to get under the blade and get closer to Kenji, the other would slam the knife down on the male's back, which was part of his plan, but if he continued to stand still, Kei might get bored with the other with all the windmill of cuts that would either get his neck or disembowel him should he let it.

Would the warrior take his chances with Kenji or decide that the other's blade was not something worth fighting against unarmed? The only thing that Kei could hope didn't happen was that the other grabbed the chain and pulled him towards him. While Kei still had his short sword at his side, he was much more comfortable with his Kyoketsu and ranged attacks and only kept the short sword for emergencies, and he was not trying to have one of those happen. Not here, not now.


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¯\_(ツ)_/¯
#9
WC: 627

A crazed look befell the dogs eyes, consuming him from the inside out as he launched his attack. Shaamah was quick to gather it, having seen the likes of it before, and having felt the urge rise over him in his more noble years. There was a desire taking over the dogman, and that desire was a downfall. Loosing track of strategy and control over emotion brought no good upon the battlefield, and it would bring this foreign man no good today. The beast batted away the first strike, only slivers of his skin tasted upon the blade before the second onslaught came with little wasted time.

A great deal of action came from his opponent, and the motion was delayed well up the line of the chain. Only seconds came between the wielder and his chained blade, but well trained sights followed the wave of movement through the chain and into the weapon that danced at it's end. Inertia lifted the metal from the earth and jerked it quickly to one side, moon-reflected orbs following it's motion and stepping back from the path that it took below his calves. The second counter, in quick succession, brought the blade upward and across the beast's chest, it's swinging motion rising and lingering in a loop, rotating above his assailants head. He'd dodged this second motion with a dip of his shoulder, but the breeze that had been cut enough to be heard claimed this evasion too close for comfort.

The veteran was catching on quickly to the lagged attacks that lingered at the end of each movement that the dogman performed. He'd be able to suspect a strike, as it seemed to be aimed toward himself in no practical manner save for a specific order of hit and recoil. Not only this, but the attacks needed to be shallow enough to drag the blade across his form, rather than to wrap around it. The dogman was avoiding getting the weapon caught on his enemy, just as Shaamah had suspected. Heterochromic eyes met the wrist of his enemy, viewing it while devising a strategy to get him away from his own control.

Large paws moved back, despite his stance remaining dominant thought defensive. That large circle that the dog swung his weapon over his head would have to be taken down. The dog would have to get closer for him to be able to put his plan into theory, and that theory into action. Motions were careful as he made a minor girth about the ninja, falling back behind the pines. There would be no great clearing for his this male to swing his weapon wildly about in. With the trees in his way, he'd have to resort to a finer tactic in order to strike.

Eyes bore into the dog's blood lust laced amethyst belligerently, challenging the male to tempt his attack again. The wide range of motion, now capped by the trees, would have to be funneled into specific motions in order to strike him. Attacks would be either direct, or rebound, but unable to be completely open as the lean man was able to perform before. Strike me. His eyes spoke, baiting his emotion ridden opponent on. With the patience of a sniper, Shaamah could bide his time for however long it took for the other to decide if he wanted to continue this charade or he chose life, over what else he had asked for. Sights dropped to the wrist that bade the direction of the weapon, prepared for the blade to lap at him again. He was about to turn the odds into his own favor, and bring this crazed dogman back down to size.
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