Dark Eternity

Dark Souls - Journey to the Bleeding Throne

I hope everyone is enjoying this RP so far =)

Dark Souls - Journey to the Bleeding Throne

With the group charging in, or gaining distance from the beast, the surroundings grew silent, apart from the heavy breathing of the beast and the rumbling sounds, whenever the tail hit the ledge the beast was leaning on. As the bolt dashed through the air, hitting in the mass of skulls, Emilia reached the beast and dug the blade into the body. Besides hitting bones and skin alike, the blade dug through without a problem, drawing black, undead blood from the beast.

It screamed. The ooze seeped through the injury in the eye socket, making large drops of the horrid smelling liquid. The head brushed against the ground and moved to look for the attacker, spotting Idan just on the ledge below. The stinging further below the body was ignored. With a deep breath, the beast's body grew a little, as it dropped down, claws ready to pierce the rock. It clung to the ledge the main group was standing on, a claw very close to hit Emilia. With another roar, the beast sprayed the ooze from it's eyes.

Resounding Provocation: The Council of Shadows

Gotta work in the morning (less than 9 hours to be honest). Weekend was nice and bad at the same time. Still enjoyed it very much =)

Resounding Provocation: The Council of Shadows

rawr :3

Resounding Provocation: The Council of Shadows

AoT is a nice anime, but I feel like it does not add anything new to Anime... And one simple spoiler ruins the whole Anime season(s?).

Dark Souls - Journey to the Bleeding Throne

The group was succeeding in drawing the skeletons back, with most of them defeated or forced into fleeing. Those closer by, just a handful barely outnumbering the group, had lost their furor at the appearance of the monster, quickly becoming nothing more than a confused mass of bones that blindly slashed what appeared in front of them. Emilia was surprised to see the strangers cooperating with them, the woman that was moments ago on the beast leaping off with the simple call of Idan.

Though the beast was not waiting. With a massive roar, it lunged from it's spot, clawing it's massive pranks on the rock once it reached the height to face Shirley. This left parts of it's lower body leaning against the part of the cliff the rest of the group was and the tail swooping against it like a massive whip. The oozing eye sockets were focused on the woman in red. The stench of rot rushed against her. With another deep breath, the beast roared, the skulls in the eye sockets shaking and dripping the ooze at the ridge. The grass immediately lost it's natural shade.

This was an opportunity for the group. Emilia, having pushed the last skeleton aiming for her off the cliff, watched the beast's body moving and grinding against the ledge they were standing on. "Thalesin, now!", she screamed, charging in with the Undead towards the creature. Her katana was risen for a quick and damaging blow. The tail whipped once more against the rock, giving a tiny shock to the ground near the impact.

Resounding Provocation: The Council of Shadows

I posted. Please do mind that I am not usually an advanced RPer, so if the posts sound less literate than required or shorter, please do tell me and I might improve.

Resounding Provocation: The Council of Shadows

The most wonderful thing about England was the generosity and politeness of the people living in high society. The men would always gift a fine lady some jewelry for a wondrous evening. Or even better, if you let them believe they had one. No matter how far the gentleman was flirting with Madeline, no matter how much she accepted. There was always a noisy wife with a bad sense of humor.

Even this night, the grand night of the Shadow Council meeting, Madeline was not even remotely close to show up in time. They would take forever in their waiting rooms anyway. She enjoyed a walk at early evening. A well suited man would show up sooner or later.

As Madeline walked through the streets, dressed in a fine silk dress from an Indian trade merchant with a very fine accent and a great taste, she noticed a young man standing alone, his eyes wandering across the streets.

"Good evening, dear sir. What is such a handsome looking man doing alone?", Madeline approached the man. His eyes were watching the slender figure with curiosity. Smiling, he walked at the woman. "So you are the fine lady I should meet?" He gave Madeline another look of satisfaction. Despite the fact that Madeline did not know anything about the man, she enjoyed this little play.

"Perhaps I am, or maybe I am not. It all depends on what you want me to be." She crawled an arm around the man's waist, gently tucking at his belt. A playful chuckle escaped the woman's lips. The other hand rested on his shoulder, leaving the two look like a loving couple walking down the street. This was one of the few things that the Demon enjoyed more than having to stick to people for too long; pickpocketing. Her favorite hobby amongst banquets.

There was the usual chit-chat. The man was very shy about himself. He kept talking about his father's work too much, trying to impress Madeline. She played the naive girl, smiling, nodding and giggling. In the meantime, she was moving her hand from the waistline around the man's belt. It was not too difficult to let her hands slip into the pockets of his pants and his jacket. He did not notice a thing anyway.

"So, what is your name?", the man asked after a long walk along the Thames. The Demon sighed, her eyes trailing off. To her luck, she had the Big Ben in sight. She gasped in shock and clapped her hands together. "Ah~! I am so sorry... I must have found the wrong guy. I was supposed to meet him over at the Tower Bridge."

She dashed off, leaving the man confused for a moment, until he noticed the lighter weight on his clothes. But before he could yell for the police, or run after her. In the next backalley, Madeline used her demonic powers to travel through the nightsky as a black smoke towards Greenwich.

Once she arrived at the building, she returned to human form, gently tugging at her dress to remove wrinkles. She made her way through the halls and towards the Demon waiting room. Her politeness made her knock at the door, before peeking in a head. "Ah! What a wonderful evening, right?", she called into the room, seeing not many that have arrived. Even after stepping into the room, Madeline was doing her best to make a good impression. This was her third, or fourth she could not remember, meeting she attended. There were still faces she would require to meet and greet.

Clapping her hands, she walked over to Mephistos and leaned against the chair, smirking. "Good evening, my dearest fellow kin. How have you been around?"

---

The night was cool to the fur of the beast. The change of seasons was beginning. For Fenris, this was not a great deal. It would mean that he would need to hunt closer to the cities. He enjoyed the night's out. A very fine scent always lied in the air. The scent of food.

There was the sheep herds that weren't taken care of well enough. Some strayed. In this case, it was a small lamb, resting below an oak. It shivered, but soon it would not move at all. It was the right meal for this night. Advancing on the animal, the massive beast clawed at the ground to gain some speed. Making a sharp snarl, the little distance between predator and prey was closed with a leap. The perfect attack on a helpless animal. Even if the lamb would have woken up sooner, it could not have gotten out of reach.

The scream of the lamb was silenced. The scent of blood rushed into the air like a beast unleashed from a cage. And the wolf found it's meal. Gnawing against the bones, ripping off flesh and devouring the precious hunt, Fenris enjoyed every single moment. He was not letting any meat or organ go to waste and from what he noticed, this lamb was not enough to withstand human form for a long period. He would need to hunt sooner or later within the meeting. The problem was that Greenwich was not the most open place for a massive werewolf to hunt. He would get noticed sooner or later.

With a blood soaked face, the wolf rose, hearing a faint sound from a bush nearby. Another animal. More food. Since he ate the lamb and left only bones and wool, Fenris dashed forth, aiming for the source of the sound. But he found nothing, even after he tracked the scent. It must have been a bird, noticing the cold murder of the livestock. Nature always has a witness, yet none raise their voice.

Seeing that there was no way around this, Fenris made haste to reach the borders of human land. For a werewolf of his size, he was able to take great distances in no time. As lights began to flicker in the eyes and a strange, foul scent grew to the nostrils, it was time for the werewolf to subside.

With massive pain and suffering, the creature crammed it's muscles, pushed ribs and limbs together and slowly faded in size. The fur slowly disappeared within the man's skin, as Fenris regained his human form. He breathed heavily, his eyes adjusting back to the lights and colors. His left eye itched, his throat was dry. The simple problems of a human. And some wool stuck between his teeth...

Sneaking his usual way to his stash at a nearby farm, Fenris took his fur coat and clothed himself in it. It reeked of wet dog and hay, much to the man's disgust. The farmer's dogs must have found it comforting to rest in it from time to time. Nevertheless, the man had to go to Greenwich. He had a whole day to travel at the roads of men. He did not mind it a bit.

The travel was easy to the feet, even with a lack of shoes. He arrived at Greenwich by dinner time, enough to stretch and rest, before the council would meet. While Fenris rested on a bench, he noticed a few people that were coming and going, many of those were of the same kin. Demon, Werewolf and Vampires alike. It was not much of the man's concern, though, until he decided to enter the building himself.

The room was already unsettling to Fenris the moment he stepped in. There was not enough space to move freely. There were too many people in it and most of all, they were all reeking of sewage, or so Fenris thought. He was not a man of the city, so he disliked the scent of it. Even more disliking, he smelled cooked meat. A fine treat for a man, but these men in the room were far from human. If they were all such weak pups to eat only cooked flesh, they might as well wear a leash...

Taking a seat in a corner, Fenris watched the commotion with interest. Maybe something worth listening to might come up.

Resounding Provocation: The Council of Shadows

I will most certainly take the offer, eventhough it would fit the werewolf a little better if he remained unaligned.

I'll get a post done by both of them as well...

Resounding Provocation - Werewolves

Name: Fenris Greyback

Age: Unknown, presumably reaching 300

Species: Werewolf,

Gender: Male

Human Appearance:

Fenris Human Form

Countless scars are scattered across Fenris' figure. His back is painted with the remains of clawmarks and whips. One eye was slashed, though the sight slowly returned to it. The most prominent scar is a massive spot on the throat, rendering the man's voice almost inaudible, if he does not raise his voice too far. As in clothing, Fenris keeps making himself fur coats from his natural prey. Anything else about his body is formed by nature. A natural skin tone formed by the summers of the Scandinavian lands, long hair that is crudely cut to not grow further than his neck, along with a short beard.

Beast Appearance:

Greyback

Personality:
As a man formed by his beastly curse, Fenris remains rather short tempered and with low social traits. His brute strength overpowers his rational thought too fast, creating a very brutal image of the man. There is not much else to be seen or heard of the man. He takes what he wants and ever so often speaks what he thinks. He also has a slight distrust towards Demons and Vampires, for the same reason he hates himself...

Brief History:

version1.0

Born as the son of a very strong warrior of a village somewhere in the white deserts of the northern Scandinavia, Fenris learned that survival was the only thing that mattered. To achieve survival, one must become stronger than nature and outfight any hindrance. Take what you need and leave nothing to rot. These were the teachings of his father, until Fenris came off age to fight amongst the warriors. They charged into battle many times, slaughtered and marauded everything and everyone. This was the way of their tribe.

Until one moonlit night, Fenris and his tribe was surviving, living and prospering like their fathers and their grandfathers did. This moonlit night was the attack of another tribe. They prayed to false gods, those that would live with ordinary animals amongst the woods, or between humans as a fake shade, like the tale of the wolf hiding within a sheep's pelt amongst the rest of the flock. This tribe attacked with wolves far greater than any man or beast could stand. The bloodbath lasted the whole night, leaving the beasts return to human form with the first spark of daylight. To Fenris tiring body, this meant victory in defeat. Too many men were slaughtered in the night and his tribe could no longer defend themselves. He fell to his knees and accepted a death on the battlefield.

But no death, no slavery was given to the man, other than what made him the fearsome beast he is now. The tribe brought the man into their lands, where they fed him a whole month with wolf meat and nothing to drink. Only Fenris' strength kept him alive throughout these days when he was treated like the flock of animals the villagers kept with them. And then there was the next full moon.

The day before, they traveled to a forest not too far from the village. In it's center, there was a glade with a stone altar, as crude as nature could form it. Bound to it, Fenris had to endure a rite of the most grotesque forms. Blood of wolves and men alike was sprayed across Fenris' body, while he was fed once more with the flesh of the howling creatures. Only this time, the full moon stirred something within him. The rite, mixed with the blood of werewolves, cursed Fenris to join their ranks and become something much stronger. His body twisted and formed a werewolf, though it kept growing to stand higher than any other lycan.

Driven by the beast, Fenris broke free and slaughtered the tribe, leaving none alive and himself forever bound to the figure of a wolf. After a long time, he learned to form a human body. To that point, it was only a treat for the beast, since he had no more business with the humans. He was still surviving. This was all he required.

Once, he met fellow werewolves, like the ones that defeated him before his curse. He traveled with them for a while, until he noticed the pack being lead by a Demon. A fight broke loose, in which the Demon pulled Fenris' throat out and left him to die, but the man's strengths kept him alive once more, though beaten to a miserable, wounded dog, living amidst the woods.

Other, more recent events with hunters, gave the man a new reason to stand with his kin and others alike. Since then, he attends the meetings of the Council, though never aligned himself with any pack, nor did he ever raise his beasty voice.

As the son of a hunter, Fenris learned the ways of survival amidst the cold desert of Scandinavia. For a hunter in such a harsh environment, it was take what you need and leave nothing to rot. Rabbits were three days nourishment. It all supported the survival of the people of the village. Sometimes, they would defend the village from bandits. At these moments, everything the bandits owned weren't wasted. Their weapons were melted down to make new tools. Their clothes were fitted for the farmers.

Often enough, hunting lead to meeting bandits as well. During winter, Fenris got rid of his tracks and often hid in the snow when he noticed someone unknown approaching. The problems were the summers, where snow would either be too flat to cover oneself, or it would have melted away. Such a summer brought up the demise of Fenris human life and the life of his village. Bandits have found him on the way back to the village, but left him running. He lead them straight to the village without him knowing. The night after, a full moon, was a true bloodbath. Wolves attack the village, but they were more fierce and even more stronger than one.

At day, the village was burned down, the villagers killed besides a few, and those were given a curse greater than death. For a long time, they were treated as slaves, fed only the smallest bits of meat and beaten. Fenris was the only one that survived the ordeals, only to be given a ritual that these werewolves gave to newcomers.

The werewolves returned to their huts inside a forest. They celebrated with a large meal, which was a massive feast of wolf meat and blood for Fenris. As the night was coming closer, the first lycans began to change, while Fenris was bound to a cross on the ground. Then, he was fed more blood, but this time the werewolves were donating the blood. Staring at the full moon, Fenris felt the curse gnaw at his body, changing it in grotesque forms. Even for a werewolf, Fenris' grew into a monster, taller and stronger.

With the thirst for flesh and revenge still boiling inside his guts, Fenris broke free and fought the bandits. During the fighting, he took large beatings from many of the lycans, the Alpha being clearly overpowering them all. In the fight against him, Fenris lost his eye, giving sight to the scar what it is nowadays. Feeling defeat crawling closer, he fled.

For a while, Fenris roamed the forests of lower Scandinavia, his curse leaving him to the sight of a werewolf. He only learned slowly how to become human again.

Once, Fenris met fellow werewolves. Little did he remember the remains of the bandit pack that once cursed him into this state. He traveled months with them, being sort of an Alpha for the group. Together, they hunted within the forests, raided merchant carriages and even attacked villages at full moon.

One such raids was leading the werewolf pack to a village with demons living there. It was too late for Fenris to draw back, as a group of demons advanced on him to defend the village, the rest of the pack leaving him behind as an act of revenge for Fenris' slaughter amongst the bandits. During the fight against the demons, he met strength against power with an old demon, who pulled out Fenris' throat and tossed him into a river. It was to Fenris' strength and ways of survival that made him stay alive.

Seeing there was nothing to hold the Greyback in place, little alone the fear of getting hunted by the demons, Fenris travelled across the lands of Europe, only to find himself on a ship to England in the late 1790s. Since then, he kept hunting in the land, finding himself on the edges of London ever so often to drag a helpless person into the night.