[P] [M] They call me a demon
Wrath | Miramichi Wilderness

WARNING: This thread contains material exceeding the general board rating of PG-13. It may contain very strong language, drug usage, graphic violence, or graphic sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.

Specifically, this thread is marked mature because of: Violence, Gore, Death.
Optime | Mirimichi Wilderness; night | Dated: Late September

tNPCs: Trigs (Target); Hector, Dewy, and Bluey (Triple Knife Trio)

Kamari’s scent is disguised. The half after the break happens a day later.
It had been by chance that she’d happened upon Salsola’s walking nightmare deep within the woods of neutral territory.

The scarred beast had been missing since the end of the Del Ceneren’s Stockshow some weeks before. A few other Salsolans had been slower to return too though, doing their best to maintain their aliases and prevent themselves from being easily tracked back to Salsola. And, it had been for that very reason that his initial absence had been handwaved, that, and the assumptions that could be made from his unfortunate loss in the fight against the Caledonian giantess.

Pride, some had whispered and blamed. But pride could only excuse so much before one’s absence became viewed under suspicion, before one became viewed as a possible threat to the Thistle Kingdom and Her secrets and interests. A pity, it would have been, to lose someone of such terrifying combative ability, even unpredictable and uncontrollably aggressive as he might have been.

So, where another might have fled at the sight of a monstrous, scarred figure moving in the darkness of night, the Emissary chose to engage with it.

She materialized like smoke from her element of shadow, keeping her knives preemptively drawn beneath the folds of her cloak as she approached the absentee Warden with nary a sound.

“Wrath,” she’d greeted—summoned—the hulking beast of a wolf. “It’s been a while.” There was a pause as her calculating eyes picked apart his dark outline beneath the dim moonlight. Sensing that he might try to brush her off, she continued, her tone was sharp, but neutral and businesslike. “If you’re done with licking your wounds, I could make use of your particular skills.”

~ * ~

As night firmly took hold of the land, Kamari began to wonder if she should have simply tracked down the informant rather than wait in their agreed upon meeting spot. At the time, with his paranoia, she’d thought it better to take a more compliant approach to get the information she wanted. As she waited silently in her hiding spot, part of her wondered if the man had been too spooked to come, or, had lied to her. Gods help the man if he’d lied. Vagrant Loners were not often missed, and crossing the Shadow of the Thistle Kingdom was not wise.

Just as her patience had started to wear thin, however, there was a rustle from the nearby woodlands, and, not a moment later, the portly, thickset figure of her informant stumbled nervously into the small clearing.

“Keres?” The doggish man whispered out loudly. “Keres? Please tell me you’re here…” His eyes jumped about the shadowy darkness, and with the way he wrung his fingers, it was a miracle that he had not rubbed off his own fur.

Kamari took in a deep, quiet breath and let it out slowly, a technique she’d long since been taught by Velimir to calm her irritation. Were it not for the man’s supposed intel, she would not have had to deal with the headache of carefully prying it out of him. It was vital that she obtain it though, and vital more that the informant didn’t spook or die beforehand.

She separated from her hiding place, appearing at his back like a spectre summoned from the otherworld. Silently, she slipped a hand around him, clamping it over his muzzle while the other firmly grabbed his arm. As expected, the dog startled, shouting a muted scream into his closed mouth.

“Be quiet, Trigs! Do you want the whole forest to hear you?” Kamari hissed as she turned him around and pulled down her hood.

His muscles relaxed beneath her grasp as he recognized her. Reaching a hand up, he gently pried her hand off of his snout before brushing down his clothes to straighten them. “Oh, Keres! Thank the Gods, it’s only you.”

“You’re late,” she accused unkindly.

He fidgeted, glancing anxiously around them. “Yes, I’m aware, but you should be glad that I showed up at all. They’re here, in these woods. I just know it. I can…I can feel them, their presence. They’re after me, like I told you.” Trigs ran his nervous hands around his ears. “Oh! I shouldn’t have come here! I’m not brave, you know.”

“I’ve gathered that.” Kamari deadpanned with a soft huff. With a flick of her eyes, she glanced around in the dark, forested terrain around them. “That’s why I’m here though. You have what I asked for, right?”

Trigs nodded, swallowing thickly as he tugged at his coat.

“Then let’s get going.” The Shadow turned and began to make her way through the woods.

His lips squiggled as he glanced about them. Not wanting to be left behind though, he waddled quickly after her more graceful strides. “A-Are you sure it’s safe out here, Keres? The Triple Knife Trio could be—”

“Trust me, as long as you stick with me, we’ll get to the cabin safely.” She reassured from over her shoulder.

Kamari pulled her hood up, wordlessly signalling for the nightmare lurking elsewhere in the woods to begin his hunt.

Kamari Kaiser
— The Shadow —
[Image: k4f73A1.png]
Player Wiki · · Character Wiki
Avatar art by Alaine · Sig art by Despi

Form: Secui



This was Wrath's moment of greatness. It would be the most devastation he'd inflicted since joining the pack, and he was hungry to prove his worth. All this time, he'd had only words and a devilish appearance behind him. Now he could show the whole pack exactly why he was here, exactly why he should be revered for his ruthless might.

There were three outsiders lurking in the woods; he had the scent of each and the exact location of two.

Although he possessed very little stealth, he was jet black. In the darkness of the woods, he was as invisible as The Shadow herself. His feline gait allowed him to place his massive paws almost silently on the ground as he crept up behind his first target. 

A shifting glance between the large back of the Optime outsider and the silhouette of Kamari he waited for his queue. There was barely a moment between Kamari raising her hood and his attack. 

He rounded on his enemy swiftly, coming from the side. Small twigs broke beneath the weight of his lunge, but before the man could turn to discern the sound, Wrath was flying towards him at head height. Just the white flash of some very large teeth, before they sank into the thin flesh around his throat. The kill was as quiet as possible. Both Wrath and the outsider hit the floor with a thud and the snap of dry wood, but the man was already bleeding out. Wrath had torn out his voice box and severed his jugular. To be sure, he clamped his teeth down on the outsider's jaw and, with quite some effort, ripped the man's head clean away from his spine, tossing it aside with merciless efficiency. 

"Nexsht." He growled quietly to himself. The element of surprise made the kill too easy, but after his recent defeat Wrath couldn't afford to mess this up. His self worth was wrapped up in his ability to execute. His senses heightened, his ears erect as he scanned for the next. There was no referee in these woods to ruin what he was certain would be a swift, inexorable, multiple assassination of an enemy of The Shadow and therefore of The Kingdom; his Kingdom.

The female of the trio heard some of the muffled sounds and called out in whispered urgency. "Hector? Hector?"



In the dead of night . . .
Hector is deadzo.

tNPCs: Trigs (Target); Dewy and Bluey (Triple Knife Trio)
It was in Wrath’s hands—or, perhaps, his jaws and paws—to keep the terrors that had lurked the paranoid informant’s mind as merely that, worries that would never come to pass, villains that would never make their appearance. The Triple Knife Trio was real, and Kamari knew that they, indeed, were in those very woods that night, on the hunt to silence the fat dog of a man that she escorted. Such had been why she’d enlisted the Warden’s assistance, after all. Trigs’ paranoia had cost her their first meeting, and she would not stand to have him shut up and run away out of fear of his past yet again.

Normally, Kamari might have taken out the threats to her mission herself. However, the Trio had been frustratingly elusive, and she had had a rather short time to try to obtain intel on them. She knew that they were on the hunt for Trigs though, and knew just as well that they would likely be brought out of their hiding if the heavyset man was paraded around in the dark. While she didn’t know Wrath as well as she knew some of the others in the Kingdom, she trusted him enough to do what seemed to be his calling in life.

Her pace was leisurely, however, despite appearances, she remained alert to her surroundings. She took subtle sniffs of the night air, stretched her hearing as far a she could despite Trigs’ heavy breathing and clumsy footsteps behind her.

When something snapped in the foliage somewhere nearby, her informant squeaked and collided into her back, causing Kamari to stumbled forward. Her tall ears flattened as she stopped and glared at Trigs from over her shoulder. “Will you stop freaking out about everything?”

“They’re here!” He cried out frantically in a whisper as he reached needily for her arm beneath her cloak. “Did you not hear that?!”

Kamari dodged him and stepped away. He followed her though, stopping only when she placed two fingers firmly against his plush chest. “It’s probably just a rabbit.”

“No! No. It was definitely something bigger! It had to have been—”

A small creature quickly scurried across their path, and Kamari gave the portly dog an exasperated and pointed look.

“Come on,” she sighed loudly as she turned to lead the way once more.

Trigs sputtered, his hands opening and closing uselessly in the air. “I’m not paranoid, you know. I have very good reasons to be this way,” he whined at her small back.

“Uh huh…”

Kamari Kaiser
— The Shadow —
[Image: k4f73A1.png]
Player Wiki · · Character Wiki
Avatar art by Alaine · Sig art by Despi


Wrath moved further away from Kamari and her informant now. He moved into darker spaces where even his enormous frame could not be seen. 

The woman, desperately searching for her fallen acquaintance, walked right past him. She was sleek, tall and toned. Wrath took in the way she moved. Her long strides carried her quietly and with ease towards the decapitated corpse. In her haste, she didn't spot the white glimmer of teeth hovering against the impossibly dark treeline. 

This was somewhat problematic. Not because on finding the corpse, she may raise the alarm to the final adversary, but because Wrath struggled not to make a meal of her situation. He wanted to know what it sounded like when she screamed. His strategy shifted, suddenly realising he could use her pained cries to lure the final target away from Kamari and towards him. 


"Hector, no." Again, she spoke in a barely audible whisper. Her head flung from side to side, her hand gripped the hilt of her knife ever more tightly. Another dry piece of wood broke beneath Wrath's heavy paw and she span, slicing the blade through the air, missing his muzzle by inches. He grinned.

"I am the nightmare unleashed by the Kingdom of Shalshola. I am Wrath." Finally, he said it. As the words fell, he visibly expanded with confidence and power. This was his calling, but little did he know this was to be the zenith of his reign of terror. That this moment would be the beginning of his physical decline.

She swiped at him with the knife again, but he ducked beneath it into a lethal prowl and sank his teeth into her ankle. She cried out, and the sound was sweeter than he had imagined. He pulled back suddenly, twisting his body and turning his neck to rip her feet from beneath her to send her crashing onto the ground. As soon as she hit the ground, she attempted to rise up, but he leapt on her and pinned her down beneath his mass.

"Shcream louder sho your friend can find you."

"Fuck you!" She cried, loud enough for her voice to carry between the densely spaced trees.

"If only there were time." He laughed mirthlessly. He lowered his head clamped it around her ear and ripped the tattered thing off her head.

She screamed again and he closed his eyes. A foolish mistake.

His right side spasmed as she sank her knife between his chest and shoulder, driving the serrated blade down to the hilt. His eyes opened and he hissed a breath in through his teeth.

His right front leg went numb as she severed nerve endings. 

He tore at her throat and ripped it to pieces as her cries faded into a gurgle of blood and phlegm.  

He waited for the world to fade, but he was still very much alive and conscious. In that moment, he was a God. He was invincible. He pulled the blade out using his teeth and spat it on the floor at the feet of the two dead bodies. 

He turned, hearing the rapid approach of heavy footfalls closing in.



In the dead of night . . .
Bluey is now deadzo. Sorry for the wait on this ;O;

tNPCs: Trigs (Target); Dewy (Triple Knife Trio)
Onward, she led the portly informant through the dark and dangerous woods. Trigs fumbled along in her footsteps, noisy and alerting the entire, shadowed world around them of their exact location with each whimper, stumble, and clumsy step. The leaves rustled too loudly when he rushed to keep pace with her. Twigs snapped loudly underfoot and where his fat body broke them as he walked past bushes and other undergrowth reaching out onto their chosen path. It went against everything that made her the Emissary and Shadow to continue remaining in his presence.

It was all part of the mission, she reminded herself each and every time he reached for or bumped into her. She would have been a liar to say that she wasn’t counting down the minutes before the charade would be all over though.

Her tall ears listened for Wrath, ever vigilant for the faintest of cues as to the progress of his task. He’d been a beast that had been forced to stay his fangs at the Lancaster Stockshow, and only the gods knew what he had been up to since then. The job she’d given him should have been invigorating, freeing, to be able to do what his violent and aggressive tendencies craved for. Her only stipulation had been for him to do so quickly and silently.

A distant, feminine scream broke out.

As if responding to a mating call, Trigs let out a girlish shriek back.

So much for silence.

If Kamari hadn’t been trying to maintain her cover, she might have pinched the bridge of her nose. Intel, she reminded herself. The fat dog had intel that was vital for her to obtain. As she felt the air change behind her, Kamari threw her hand back, snatching Trigs’ offending wrist before it could grab her cloak or arm again. His eyes were wide with panic and then pain as she pinched his skin between her claws.

She glared at him. “I will break your hand if you grab me again,” she growled warningly.

“Ow ow ow! Keres. Keres, please,” the doggish man begged, “They’re in this forest! Did you not hear that? Keres. Keres, your claws—”

“Hear what?” She asked, giving him a confused and doubtful look.

Trigs tapped her hand in an attempt to remind her of her hold on him. “That scream!” He cried. “Did you not here a woman screaming? Please, Keres, you’re hurting—”

“The only woman I heard screaming was you, Trigs,” she replied flatly. “I told you that you’re safe as long as you stay with me.” Turning, she threw his wrist away from her. “I can’t very well keep that promise if you keep jumping at every little thing you hear or think you hear though.” She took a step towards him, and he whimpered as she stabbed one of his oversized and fatty pectorals with a finger. Letting her voice drop low, she hissed, “So, keep your cowardice to a whisper until we get to the hideout, won’t you?”

She heard him swallow. “I-I’m not a coward,” he mumbled defensively.

Kamari clicked her tongue as she stepped apart from him and his stench. “But you’re not brave,” she reminded him of his previous words.

His lips squiggled as he nervously brushed down his clothes where she’d poked him. “There’s a difference!”

“Just keep quiet,” she sighed irritably a she turned to keep leading the way.

Silently, she hoped that Wrath finished the job quickly. She could only lie her way out of so much before the man’s paranoia would get the better of him. If the mission ended in failure, she would not be happy.

Kamari Kaiser
— The Shadow —
[Image: k4f73A1.png]
Player Wiki · · Character Wiki
Avatar art by Alaine · Sig art by Despi


The savage was injured. Despite the adrenaline propping up his ability to continue with the attack, Wrath could see from the trail of blood—a black procession streaming onto the woodland floor and lit by the fleeting moonlight, following him like death—that he could not fight much longer.

Predictably, the third of the trio emerged with haste before the two corpses strewn before him. His eyes widened, two giant pearls floating in the night air and a perfect target for the wretch to complete his mission. It would have to be quick and easy.

Every ounce of power that remained was forced through Wrath's hind legs as he leapt at the third knife-wielding individual. As Wrath's impressively-taloned paws impacted the man's chest, so too did the black brute's massive jaw clamp down over his face. The kill was guaranteed at the first moment of impact.

All protest from Dewy was stifled by the fresh flesh-smelling breath of his attacker and ventured down the gullet of the Devil Himself.

One of Wrath's enormous canines impaled Dewy's eyeball, taking away 50% of his sight—a sensation Wrath was at the least familiar with—and the lower tier of teeth gripped Wrath's enemy by the roof of his mouth. The landing was savage enough to break the upper half of the man's muzzle—this alone being enough to render him without the essential attribute of smell, let alone a comfortable ability to breathe.

Wrath knew his enemy intended to scream, but his second bite clamped down hard enough on the man's throat that it completely collapsed his trachea, squashing it sufficiently that the natural build-up of phlegm in his throat stuck the walls of his windpipe together and made it impossible to inhale or exhale, let alone to scream.

Dewy suffocated beneath the merciless attack and the sheer weight of Wrath.

It was over. Wrath still lived and still possessed the strength for the final act.

He gripped the now thoroughly dead third by the throat, hoisted his upper body into the air, and, head held high, he paraded him—not quietly— through the woodland towards the hideout.

Wrath emerged, content that he had done enough to prove his fearsome might, from the darkness. A silhouette of a giant wolf, dragging along a large, lifeless man now held seemingly without effort in his jaws.

His gaze caught that of Kamari, then shifted to the fat little man at her side and as he held his fallen foe, he grinned around the messed-up marauder as confirmation of a job well done.


WC: 400+

In the dead of night . . .

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