Clashing Titans
#1
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Alright, so I believe the way this will work is: Jazper has stumbled across five corpses (two of them headless thanks to Anselm) and decides that something is awry. He'll smell that one of the survivors is in the area, and will be looking for him when Jantus appears *gasp* from behind a corner?


It was a grisly business dealing with the dead, but Jantus saw now that Anselm had done his fair share of that himself. Having noted the beheaded bodies, he supposed that this was proof positive that his comrade-in-arms had been from Inferni. It didn't surprise him, really: the fact that anyone from this place could fight in that manner implied that they wouldn't be from one of the weaker groups; the fact that he hadn't been full wolf was another strong indication. Still, he'd hoped it weren't the case. The last thing he wanted was to help decorate Inferni's obscene fence of heads, though he was glad that Anselm had only defiled his own kills, rather than Jantus's. The giant was a practical warrior, it was said: not so honor-bound as Skoll had sometimes seemed (though he knew better than to think that the golden warrior wouldn't take an advantage when it was offered...no one fought with one hand tied behind their back and survived for very long), but he still preferred to respect the dead when it could be afforded.


What he was doing today, besides being a little disgusted by the decapitation of two of the decaying bodies, was checking to make sure that no one had stumbled across these in the interval between his battle and now. For the first time he was feeling well enough that he thought he could repeat the combat if he needed to, so even if he met some friends of theirs, he felt it was okay to return to the scene, provided he wasn't so foolhardy that he didn't check the air first. The bodies had already endured most of the worst stages of their corruption, but they still wreaked. The good news was that he hadn't smelled anyone else other than Anselm, which meant that these five either didn't have any other friends in the area, or if they did, they weren't terribly concerned about them. One way or the other, it seemed like the time to fear retribution had passed. The site had been (mostly) left alone, and he would be able to sleep a little easier knowing that. Then again, this was the place where entire litters of puppies could be slaughtered by someone half the size of their parents and not be avenged: maybe the same tendency was holding true here. Given the stories he'd heard, no reaction here may just be a lack of courage rather than a lack of friends.


He walked away from the alley where they'd all been killed and decided to take a short walk down a less foul-smelling road. He supposed they could have buried them, a good deal of the area was concrete, and they'd both been pretty tired, not to mention beat up, after the fact. Besides, burying a body didn't do much to hide it, so short of respect (which these guys didn't deserve too much of, he'd give Anselm that) there wasn't much reason to go that far. Digging up a hole big enough to pile five bodies in while his entire right side was throbbing would have been rough, and he didn't think he owed them that much. He'd walk a short circuit around some of these ruins, and by the time he returned, he'd decide if there was anything left to be done, and then leave this place. Probably the last time he'd be through, he imagined.



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#2
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WC:500+

It had only been a couple of days since the Knight had been in the city, and only a couple days before that. In fact this was his third time coming to the city in the past week. In all honesty it helped him relax. Halifax was his second home, a place where he could always find a place to stay, a new face to get to know and a good hard drink before bed. With winter underway he knew it was about time to gather supplies for the pups. Their winter coats probably would not grow out very nicely considering they were hardly a month in age and they were already complaining about being cold at night. They would also need toys to keep them entertained indoors until the spring weather hit. Once spring was here they would be old enough to explore the territory with him, learn to hunt and track. He looked forward to that day.


Stopping in front of a toy store he looked in the front window. There was a good variety of trinkets that Sophia and Aro might enjoy. Entering he looked around touching the different texture completely in awe of the human inventions. Finally his hands and eyes wandered over to a few shelves filled with stuffed animals. Most of the creatures he had never seen, some only in books. He managed to recognize a few such as the bears and cats. Smiling he lowered his back pack off of a broad shoulder and packed a teddy bear and a panda. Exiting the building he was quite sure that the pups would enjoy having these fluffy creatures to help keep them entertained during the day and comfortably warm in the night. Which would leave him with more sleep and time to relax as the pups were kept amused.


As he walked his nose began to twitch. What was that smell? The warrior ignored it for a while but the further south he walked the stronger the scent became. The scent began to register in his mind as he raised part of his lip in disgust. Why would someone leave their prey laying around in the city? Good meat was hard to come by this time of year. His large feet continued in the direction of the smell, his muzzle pointed towards the ground as he walked, suddenly he was shocked to see little spots of red, a bloody trail from the prey. He stood stunned as he stared into the alley. Corpses lined the narrow path but not those of deer or rabbits but that of wolves. He walked nervously down the dark alley, pulling the sword out of the sheath as he turned the corner and a fresh scent mixed with the blood sent adrenaline flying through his body. The owner of the smell was not given a moment of mercy as the giant let out a deep growl and bared his teeth. There was no mistaken that the victim's blood was on this strangers hands, making him the murderer.




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#3
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I hope you don't mind this bit of powerplay I'm about to do << Let me know, and we can change it.


He had taken his walk and decided that after one more sniff around, he'd be done with this place for good. Not just the fight, he thought, but all of the ruins. He might linger a short while longer, but if Skoll's kids wanted to stay here terribly, they hadn't shown him or anyone else much sign. It seemed that their delay had been nothing more than a long goodbye to the place their friend had called home. Somehow, that didn't bother him. With no one who lived here, he doubted he'd make another pilgrimage like this. It was done. His respects had been paid, and his daughters were growing up back home without him...it was time to return, soon.


It was just as he resolved this that he came across the alley, and--just as it had happened when the fight had first broken out--he practically ran into someone who was already there. Surprisingly, the person was even taller than he was. Out of chance alone, or maybe due to his experience, he noticed the wolf was holding something in his hand; Jantus couldn't tell what the object was, but a dozen unconscious cues told him immediately to be on his guard. The object was a sword, and it came swinging his way almost sooner than he could react. He had begun drawing the half-axle he called a club a moment before the attack came, and a the sword blade cut through the leather haft-wrap down to the metal core of his weapon. Jantus pushed forward--he didn't want this--a weapon fight against a sword-wielder was extremely dangerous, especially with a heavy club which left so many openings. No telling how good his enemy was. He was reminded of Rurik, but the Russian wasn't half this wolf's size.


It was hard to tell, but Jantus got the impression that he was heavier than this individual, even though he was half a head shorter. Pushing him backward, he used one of the corpses to trip his enemy, and followed his fall to the ground, fumbling his heavy club in the processing and immediately deciding to secure a grip on the wrist of his foe's sword-arm. He began slamming down with the elbow of his free hand...hoping that the immediate threat of severe damage would prompt his enemy to drop the sword and try to protect his face.


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#4
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Fear rippled through the males every muscle. His fur stood up making him look larger and thicker as he moved with a low rumble. The scent was fresh, the murderer had to be near. He was scared. He shouldn't have to be scared but in this moment he had to much to live for. Two pieces of himself were being torn in either direction as his heart and brain cursed each others views. One part of the giant knew that whoever did this was dangerous to the good loners that lived in this city, to his pack and directly to himself and his family. Murderers where good for nothing and had to be dealt with as soon as possible, or they would strike again. However, the fear pulsed at the back of his mind reminding him that the person who did this had taken down more then a couple of innocent souls. No, whoever did this was capable and able to cause him damage or possibly even death.


As his mind and heart fought he continued to stand there like a dumb pup with a sword in its hand. The only thing he knew he should do is growl. The low rumble repeated with every breath, surging through his body and turning his stomach. The scent become stronger and fresher as a body moved within his vision. Without much thought he swung his sword in the general direction of the movement. The steel blade crashed into a what appeared to be some strange looking club. Within seconds he was being pushed and fell. His lips curled back further as his sword and hand was smashed against the ground over and over until his knuckles began to throb in pain and the clash of steel hitting the ground rang in his ears. “Murderers don't deserve to live.” He hissed at the male above him.


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#5
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As discussed, I apologize for the lack of clarity in my last post: Jantus was throwing his elbow down towards Jazper's face, rather than onto his hand.


Jantus climbed forward, shifting his posture and pinning one of his foe's giant black arms with a knee. The youth's sword arm was still held down and now the multi-hued alpha had a hand free to do what he would, which, in a serious battle, would probably entail digging at his enemy's neck with his claws unto death. As it was, the other giant started speaking as he was improving his ground position, which gave him plenty of time to register what the words could mean prior doing something he would have regretted. Considering his pinned adversary with his one-eyed gaze, Jantus paused his attack and spoke, raising his hand as a rigid claw into the air, in threat of attack.


"Murderer? Killing in self-defense isn't murder, Souls wolf." He had yet to refer to anyone he'd met here in that fashion, but he did draw distinction between them and those outside. Skoll had described the wolves of Souls as a beleaguered people who were mostly responsible for their own situation: a confused lot who did nothing to protect their packs from rape and murder by outsiders, and yet unified against anyone with the skills to improve the status quo. He'd have described it as a uniquely masochistic society, had Jantus had known that adjective. There was nothing wrong in killing for self-defense. The Snow-Capped Pine would have been unable to hold their territory without that belief.


"You've clearly sniffed around. A roving pack or gang of five against two outsiders, me and a native. Somehow I don't think me and the other guy started the fight." His hand was still raised in attack position. He'd wait for the black wolf to settle down before lowering his guard and letting him stand up. The younger wolf would need to drop his sword to, but that was obvious.



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