it will be called rome and it will be built on your bones

pack meeting

POSTED: Tue Nov 19, 2019 12:49 pm

"It's early evening near the central area of the pack territory, and there's a light breeze.

Your character has a heavy heart.

A bad memory resurfaces."



out of character here

Winter didn't always mean cold, dreary days, Days with only meek, fleeting sunlight and biting winds. Nights that brought sub-zero temperatures and blankets of snow. Winter also meant warm meals with friends a family. Bright candles and crisp icy mornings where everything seemed brand new and sparking.

It didn't always mean sober, tense calls to union. But today it did.

Saga stood upon the sloping steps of the Old Brassard Church, a gentle breeze whipping her dark hair, her sons that remained in the Vale standing quietly to one side. The youngest in the arms of the eldest and neither of them particularly pleased about it, neither of them unwise enough to quarrel with their mother. As soon as she'd left the meeting she'd been sequestered in most of the already tender evening, she was no longer their mother. The terse aura she gave off left them with no doubt that she was simply the Ursarchon today. And her words were one to heed.

Zuri, Elijah and Ragna stood nearby, the sole trio that had been given Saga's utmost trust in this matter, the sole trio that had been present in that fresh morning meeting. The rest of the Vale soon joined them, trickling somberly towards the bland, snow bedecked church forecourt.

The Ursarchon wasted no time.

'Many of you are aware that another attack occurred recently. It was not, thankfully, perpetrated on our lands. But one of our own was a victim. While it was not a fatal attack-' Another fatal attack seemed too painful to voice, despite its truth. Steinarr's death was a stain that would never be wiped clean and her heart filled with lead every time she was forced to remember it. 'It was an attack.' Saga let her words hand in the cold winter air for a long moment, her voice faintly echoing across the square.

As Ursarchon, it is my responsibility to protect you. And to protect you, you must protect yourself. Those who are able, are to seek out Elijah for initial, and in the case of those of you with existing skills, further training. All who are able, are to patrol and maintain the borders.'[/b] The Ursarchon waited for her words to sink in.

'Come summer, small, spaced out defences will be erected upon the borders and larger, more permanent borders will be built around the Brassard area. Until then, caution is advised. Don't meddle with strangers, don't stray too far, don't do anything stupid. All new joiners are to be kept under close watch, escorted if at all possible.'

Saga swallowed, her vibrant gaze catching as many of the Mistwalkers as she could, from young to old, new to established.

'That is all. Thank you.'

+4
Saga D'Angelo
New Caledonia
Commoner
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Vida
Luperci the crowned bear

fortitude
ursa major

POSTED: Tue Nov 19, 2019 3:29 pm

Optime | Winterwynd (Brassard Church)
NPCs: Ragna, Sindri, & Glade & Einarr (+502)


The house had been silent ever since Ragna had left earlier that morning to attend a meeting with the Ursarchon. There had been a coldness to her that did not bode well for whatever might become of it, and the three children huddled anxiously near the front door with their ears turned towards the center of town. They waited for a call, a summons, or the familiar sight of their mother returning home. The fireplace was empty, the front door left open so they could all move at a moment’s notice. It created a chill in the house, but, their closeness to one another made this easy to ignore.

When, finally, the moment had come, Skadi plucked Glade from where he had been nestled between Einarr’s oversized paws. Holding him to her chest, she led a clipped pace towards the old church. It didn’t take the trio of siblings long to reach the snow-covered steps, and they stood amongst the rest of the Vale that gathered. With Ragna standing near the pack’s leader, Glade curled himself around Skadi’s small shoulders instead.

Sindri, Skadi, and Einarr didn’t speak to each other, recognizing the group feeling that hung heavily in the air. Once everyone had gathered, Saga’s voice carried out over the crowd. She spoke of Sedona’s attack, no doubt, which had happened while she had been away on official business with the Cavaliers. Her continued words stung, and Skadi couldn’t help but to think of her brother. She felt Einarr’s eyes subtly shift to her, saw Sindri cast his gaze to the cold cobblestone. Looking at their mother though, Ragna’s expression was as cold and neutral as it always was.

The Ursarchon only allowed a brief pause before she continued on with her decree, requiring the Mistwalkers to learn how to protect themselves. The notion, Skadi knew, must have made her mother content to some degree. The lack of discipline and fighters in the Vale had always bothered her according to Glade. It was unfortunate that it took the death and near-death of two of their members within six months’ time before some might have realized that the Vale was too soft, too easy of a target.

Skadi’s ears pricked at the mention of another construction project once the winter season ended. She would be older then, and able to help her fellow packmates where she hadn’t before. She just hoped they wouldn’t suffer another attack in the meantime. Looking down to Einarr, she wasn’t surprised to see him looking back up at her. Determination and resolution both gleamed in their hard stares. Her gaze shifted to Sindri, noticing a similar look in his eye too.

Their mother was already teaching them how to fight, how to defend themselves and think like their enemy. Young as they may be, they’d both do their best to defend their home and its people just like their mother.

Skadi Eklund

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Songbird
Luperci And the serpent released its tail

POSTED: Tue Nov 19, 2019 6:48 pm

[362]
ooc chat goes here

The call came sudden in the crisp evening air. Sedona looked up from her work at the kitchen table, where she was prepping a grouse for dinner, ears perked and swiveled towards the voice of the Ursarchon. A pack meeting at the church just across the way. Sighing, the Whitesage woman had a gut feeling what this meeting was to be about. Saga had mentioned in their last meeting that it was coming. Wiping her paws upon a cloth, the cowgirl made her way to the front door.

Pausing, she looked at her hat which hung upon a nail beside the door frame. There too now hung her red bandanna or what remained of it. The tattered shreds were a reminder of the attack that had left her permanently disfigured and emotionally and mentally scarred even deeper. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath the tan woman grabbed her hat and exited the relative warmth of her home and out into the frigid winter air.

Her breath fogged out before her as she slowly limped her way over to the front of the Old Brassard Church where her fellow Mistwalkers were gathering. She didn't make eye contact with anyone as she unassumingly took up a spot in the midst of those standing before the Ursarchon, Zuri and Ragna. Green eyes flickered up to their faces only but all the pack Constructor wanted to do was hide her face as Saga began to speak. The heavy nature of her words hit hard. Everything she said about needing more patrols and those lacking fighting skills to train up Sedona wholeheartedly agreed with. The woman already had been mulling over personal plans of her own to do just that. Although not part of that morning's meeting, the tan coydog intended to bring her ideas to leadership later on.

As Saga concluded her speech, Sedona bowed her head in acknowledgement, before quietly slipping away again back to her home and the quiet solitude of it. She'd been keeping sequestered up in there as of late. Usually a smiling, friendly face around the Vale, the woman just wasn't herself since the attack. It had changed her.


Sedona
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POSTED: Wed Nov 20, 2019 2:24 pm

Admittedly, Bennett didn't know a whole lot about what had happened.

He was sheltered in many ways, and less inclined to socialize with others, but the tension in the air and the increased presence around the borders seemed notable. His father no longer forbade him from taking his weapons, though Bennett had not yet made a habit of wearing these. The bow felt like a tool, anyway – not the way the sword did. It wasn't a particularly good sword truthfully, but it was sharp and relatively balanced.

Going without it today suddenly felt inappropriate, but from where he stood – with his father towards the edge of the assembly – all eyes were upon their young leader.

Bennett frowned as he listened. Danger was ever-present, and all the threats out there were to be heeded. He looked over the man Saga offered as a trainer, but his own teacher was more than enough. More importantly, Linden had put enough pressure on Bennett to ensure he would not seek assistance elsewhere.

The way Saga spoke, however, made it sound as if some organized force was waiting for them. This sort of paranoia, long-instilled in the wolfdog, had him eager to see an end to the supposed-threat. Mistfell Vale had protected his family. This would make things even.


« ∙ when the wind blows, the grass bends ∙ »
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Mel
Luperci Letting go gives us freedom, and freedom is the only condition for happiness.
anger is a gift
dig two graves
live free or die
sasāra
bodhi

POSTED: Thu Nov 21, 2019 6:54 pm

I prefer dangerous freedom
Over peaceful slavery

OOC: +300 words.

Zuri had wasted no time in heeding the Ursarchon's early call. She had not been the only one that came to join her, spotting Elijah and Ragna among those that had come as well. The fresh string of events had been weighing on all of them, especially when it came to certain aspects of their kingdom. There were flaws to be sure, and they were going to have to take measures in order to correct them for the future... well, more that what had already been put into place.

The Risegard stood along with the others present alongside their leader, watching as others came to the church at Saga's call. As they began to gather, the black and white woman addressed all of them. At the presentation of the news of an attack on one of their own, her gaze trailed over to Sedona. There were likely those that were not aware she had been the victim of the attack.

Perhaps it was better that way. There was no need to draw attention on her at the current moment.

Crimson eyes fell back down on Saga as she continued with her speech, concluding with her plans that would come the next summer. They were going to be taking action in order to prepare themselves better for anything, especially in a combative nature. This was just what their kingdom needed, and the more that knew to fight, the more prepared they would be. Her head turned to Elijah as he had been pointed out to come to for lessons in this regard.

Perhaps once she had gotten her own weapon finished she too would see to seeking him out for his skills.

Her head turned back over those gathered, watching them and their reactions. As no one else spoke out, she too kept herself silent. There would come another time in the future to be able to discuss more with the others as well as the Ursarchon on what more they could do for their kingdom's future.

Zuri Acidic-Trombetta

POSTED: Fri Nov 22, 2019 6:52 pm

Rialu listened to the gentle rustling of the winter gusts against their tattered little home, her mate lay asleep in the moose hide and deer pelts there on the creaky old bed. His head just peaking out from the covers. At the desk she wrote idly of her latest encounters around the Vale, her sharp memory and witty pace at its peak when a rapping came at the door. She nearly spilled ink on the page when her elbow moved in a myriad of thought and surprise, slow at first to come to and rise from her seat to see what it was. A few blurry figures walked past through the fogged glass, and she moved to rustle the covers.

Beneath her mate stirred and she lifted him gently onto his back. One of his paws had dragged a fur along with it and she used one sturdy arm to wrap that about his back for the short journey while the other hiked him higher on her shoulder blades.

They made the bitter walk through town quietly, and there at the corner where the old Church stood a fire had been lit it seemed, but now stood smoldering against the frigid air. The wind beat at the white dusted steps and sent monsoons twirling. Those that had already gathered crowded the square, bearing the cold only for Saga to tell news of a terrible happening, one Rialu had heard only whisperings of until now, now being formally addressed outright like the reality of being harmed on the outside was never more raw. Now the crow could nip the wound. Rialu felt skeptical on the matter and kept folded arms, despite the speaker being someone she thought to be an ally, if not a friend. When it came for reacting on the matter of the attack, emphasized and recognized for what it was, Saga thought it best to tighten up defenses. Rialu liked the idea of keeping their guard; letting outsiders push you around would not yield any rewards. It would only show weakness, and she knew a lot of these sturdy, hard working folk. Mistwalkers were not weak, and she would make sure to take her bow out a few extra nights around the borders in the cold rudimentary dark of the Vale just to prove it.

This had been sudden, and Rialu could not imagine what the minds of her fellow members were like at this time. She wanted to believe they could all work together to make this a safe place to live, because she still had hope for this fresh new world. That is all and the crowd began to dissipate, as if the winds of the Vale itself had ushered them away, but she looked in Saga's direction with a comforting glance one last time before she trudged off, back to home, with Virue still on her back.
RIALU
The leaves fall like comets missed, and you are this, all straight with twist.

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Jordan
Luperci Mate to Virue

POSTED: Sat Nov 30, 2019 3:55 pm

OOC :: Words→ 658

Falcon stood on her stoop and breathed warm mist into her hands, fingers stained gray from putting out the fireplace. Her new cloak felt luxurious in the cold; she wasn’t sure she’d ever owned something so beautiful, and it curled around her shawl like they were meant to be. Maybe she’d run across the street and chat with Sedona; they hadn’t said more than two words to each other for days, and it worried Falcon.

Saga’s voice rose above the winter wind, as solemn as she’d ever heard it. The Elkenfrey ran a hand through her dark hair, having already taken it down for the night, and sighed; so much for a nice, relaxing night spent bothering Sedona and her family.

The air grew colder as Falcon walked toward the church, candlelight dancing in its broken windows. They were lit most nights, especially with new Mistwalkers curled up inside, but Saga’s call made them seem ominous. She paused beside the old, stone wall and watched as her packmates entered the square; there were countless reasons to hold an unannounced, evening meeting, but none of them were good.

After mustering the nerve to keep going, Falcon took her place amongst the growing crowd. The Ursarchon seemed to tower above them on the Old Brassard steps, with Zura, Ragna, and Elijah standing nearby; Falcon had seen the group enter the church that morning, but she hadn’t thought anything of it at the time.

Saga addressed the crowd with sobering words. This was about Sedona’s attack, but it was also about the little boy who never got to grow up—and it was probably about the fortress she’d slept in across the loch, a guard on every corner and a weapon on every hip except their own. The Elkenfrey’s fingers ghosted over her axe sheaths. She’d never had to use them in a real fight, but she knew what they could do; she just didn’t know what she could do.

Falcon searched for Sedona’s face in the crowd, but only spotted the tips of her ears and the top of her cowboy hat; she was too far away. Her gaze shifted to Elijah next, a Knight in all but name, and scolded herself for not training more. Falcon knew she could hold her own against an inexperienced combatant, but Naya had knocked her to the ground in a matter of moments—if her clubfoot hadn’t slowed her down, it would have been in a matter of seconds.

The Elkenfrey’s ears perked as Saga spoke of erecting watchtowers and building walls around their humble town. A wave of relief fell over her, like letting out a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding. Falcon had been on edge—in one way or another—since Steinarr’s death, and the Ursarchon’s insistence that they were safe had done little to assuage her. Saga had been wrong, and they would have to adjust all over again.

Once the meeting was over, and all questioning voices had been heard, Falcon pulled the leader aside as they left the firelit square. ”I just want you to know that I’m honored to be a Mistwalker under your leadership, Saga,” she said, a slight hitch in the back of her throat, ”and I will do everything in my power to defend this pack and everyone in it.” Falcon paused for a moment, considering her next words carefully, and risked a small smile. ”A very smart, capable woman once told me that Mistfell Vale would never be caged out of fear—I am doubly honored to stand in front of her, knowing that we’ll be protected by her bravery instead.”

And with that, Falcon resumed her march across the street; even if Sedona didn’t want to talk, she knew the older woman would appreciate her stopping by.

Note: Falcon uses he/him pronouns publicly (i.e. to most packmates, acquaintances, and strangers) and she/her pronouns privately (i.e. to specific, close friends).
Loners
Coyote Hybrid
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Alexander
With great distinction, I carry on They stole my dirty socks... :( Spring Spree 2020

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