[M] I send my Scourge, I send my Sword; Thus saith the Lord!


POSTED: Sun Jan 14, 2018 3:21 am

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.

Jace Wolfe
Word Count ♞ 412 ::

She had never intended for this to turn into a hunting session but the chance opportunity had fallen right into her lap and she was not the type to sit idle as gifts practically fell into her lap. The skeletal deciduous trees whipped by her, their branches sailing above her head as she leaned in close to her horse's neck. Snow was flung from Salvia's hooves as the speedy mare raced across the forest floor, and the wind whipped at her face, sending both the mare's mane and her own rippling out behind them.

Up ahead the deer herd fled with panic in every stride, Jace and Salvia hot on their trail. In the dense closeness of the forest Jace couldn't truly catch up to them but neither could they pull ahead of the duo and her mare had a lot more stamina, with plentiful food and a caretaker, than the half starved deer did. What she was waiting for however, was the one injured one to begin flagging and lag behind.

She had seen the stag limping as they had come across the herd from downwind suddenly and had taken off after them with only a moment's thought. Now they were gaining on the injured stag, who still miraculously possessed of his antlers. It was usually at this time that they dropped them to begin growing next years pair. The end was nigh for him as the herd began to leave him behind as they rocketed into a clearing and put on a burst of speed for the open flat ground.

Salvia too raced faster at Jace's urging, digging in her heels to the equine's flanks. The stag bellowed fearfully and tried to swipe at her with his great twining crown. An eight pointer was nothing to sniff at. She pulled Salvia away, arching about him and bringing him rearing to a standstill abruptly. It was then that she moved to action atop her horse.

She brought up the longbow with arrow already in position and fired at him, hitting him in the throat. He bleated in terror and she fired a second time, catching him in the chest, in a vital area and he went down.

Jace leapt from her mare and with knife drawn darted in to slash his throat, blood splattered her frame in a spray and he finally went limp. The aging woman remained kneeling and brushed the animal's proud, noble head, whispering a few words in her own language.

Shoot to thrill, play to kill
I got my bow at the ready
Gonna fire at will

Template by Kitty, edits by Nuki, photomanip by Naaaat.

Jace Wolfe

Casa di Cavalieri
Honored Elder (NPC)
User avatar
Luperci Mate to Temo Guardsman, Hunter The Brotherhood: Master of Ranged Weapons SoSuWriMo 2012, 2014, 2015, 2017, 2018 Champion! SteelHeart
Northern Ice Queen
Yakuso, Praeas, Guardian

POSTED: Mon Feb 05, 2018 2:09 am

Optime | NPCs: Glade, Brimstone, and Jack (+793)

After hours of seemingly aimless wandering, Ragna had allowed her group a break amidst a thick patch of vegetation just off of a larger clearing. The area was new to her, one that she had yet to charter in her internal map of this godforsaken land of the East. From what another Loner had told her, if she went further southeast, she would eventually find the coast, as well, more packs of the realm. She had another reason to travel further down the peninsula though, more than just a bit of sightseeing.

The coyote Clan had deserted their old home, she’d found in her journeys. Where she had once infiltrated and scouted tediously, the skull-clad border markers were absent, the communal living area in which she had stolen one of their sheep, burned to the ground. It was curious, really, and the wolfdog had wondered if God had finally saw it fit to act and smite the damned coyotes for the lives they had taken in Boreas’ frivolous war in the previous winter.

Unfortunately, she had yet to find much else about what had happened to the wolf-hating collective. They had moved, but, so far, no one had known where they had gone, and Ragna had yet to sniff out their vile stench. During the time she had paused the group’s movements, she had contemplated whether the search would be one better saved for the warmer months, when energy was much easier to spend, for, it was much easier to replenish.

Ragna had been in the midst of building a small fire when a familiar sound reached her ears. Glade perked up from his perch upon Jack’s back. Her horses turned their heads too towards the commotion. Twigs snapped and the rumble of disturbed snow echoed out into the clearing. Then, not moments later, a group of deer fleeing something at a clipped pace broke from the wood line, their stride only hastening without any trees or shrubbery to stand in their way. Chasing after them rode a woman atop a black and white steed.

At the back of the herd, a weakened stag did its best to keep up, however, its injured leg made it fall well behind the safety of its group. The herd of deer dove into the woodland close to where the scout had made her temporary camp. Left behind by its brethren, the strangely, still-antlered stag turned to make its final stand. It waved its mighty crown, only delaying the inevitable, however, the action, perhaps, brave. If she were to die, Ragna would have died trying to fight too.

The huntress seemed wise enough to put some space between her mount and the stag’s eight-point rack, nocking a bow and firing twice before the creature fell. The woman dismounted, moving to end the deer’s life quickly before it could further suffer. Ragna’s lips pressed together as she nodded approvingly, mildly impressed with the show.

She had every intention to carry on with what she had been doing, to pretend the little scene had not happened when Glade pipped up. “Ask them?”

Ragna looked up from the pile of wood she had been trying to neatly stack. “Hmm?”

The marten looked back out to the clearing where the woman was knelt by her prize. “Ask them?” He repeated. “Maybe know where find coyotes?”

The Eklund grunted dismissively. “Hnn. It’s rude to approach someone after a hunt like that. It invites suspicion.”

Glade chattered stubbornly from his high perch. “No hurt to try,” he argued. “Good meet others. Might know. Gossip spread.”

Ragna let a cold eye look up at him. She didn’t need to hear her own lessons thrown back at her. With a relenting sigh, she rose to her feet, the marten leaping from the gelding’s back and onto her shoulder instantly. He had a pleased look to his face as he steadied himself in his usual perch across her shoulders. “Don’t expect a warm welcome,” she warned him under her breath.

With that, she offered a quick command to Brimstone before leaving the horses. She broke from the woodland, doing well to not hide her footsteps so that the woman wouldn’t think Ragna of ill-intentions. When she drew close enough to speak, the wolfdog hailed the stranger. “You have a good shot,” she complimented. “There aren’t many that can hunt a full-grown deer on their own like that.” Though, truly, the stag had been weakened, but, the feat was still valid nonetheless.

“Watch, saw hunt. Very quick. Very precise.” Glade added, his beady eyes bright and friendly, a contrast to Ragna’s more reserved and neutral look about her.

Ragna Eklund

Mistfell Vale
User avatar
Luperci Scout II
Do not go gentle
into that good night

Dead Topics