If left solely to Brannor, he would prefer to scout the eastern section first before going to consider the ladder. Effectively the logic of his would be to search everything in every area at a time, looking for a battle as is his want at the moment. Actual exploratory action on his half and interest is virtually none as of yet and will not likely be until he reverts to his questionably normal self. So if no one has any other input there, that is what I will see to him doing then, @Hekazu.
The Harbinger of Ferocity Member
STATUS: Masses are always breeding grounds of psychic epidemics. 4 yrs ago- Last Seen: 3 yrs ago
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Masses are always breeding grounds of psychic epidemics.
5 yrs ago
The highest, most decisive experience is to be alone with one's own self. You must be alone to find out what supports you, when you find that you can not support yourself.
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5 yrs ago
One cannot live from anything except what one is.
5 yrs ago
The slave to virtue finds the way as little as the slave to vices.
6 yrs ago
The core of an individual is the mystery of life, which dies when it is 'grasped'. That is also why symbols want to keep their secrets.
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The Harbinger of Ferocity
Agent of the Wild, Aspect of the Ferine
Nature, red in tooth and claw.
"There is, indeed, no single quality of the cat that man could not emulate to his advantage."
- Carl Van Vechten
I am, at my core, a personification and manifestation of those things whose blood and hearts run red with the ferocity of the animal world. It is this which convicts and controls my works, my writing, my being; the force and guidance in which I gain wisdom from. It is what inspires me as a creator and weaver of words, the very thing I admire as an author.
My leanings, savage as they are, are of the feline sort as there exists no greater lineage of beasts whom can be drawn from. No others captivate and motivate my talent and skill as the greatest of cats do.
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All this sprinkled conversation of cats provides a boost of morale. There are not enough things feline in this world.
"Good," The gravely snarl replied as the bestial frame drew close, not once lumbering or awkward despite is scale. "We should find the rest of them... and put an end to them as well.
It was then the weretiger neared the bow-bearing priestess, sword resting comfortably in the grasp of a hand. While it did not turn to listen to the old seabound druid, a single ear kept on him for the time being, drinking in the advice that was given. There was to be no disagreement from the transformed huntsman, it could not hunt a trap, it could not kill a trap, it would do little in receipt or gratification for its purpose to worry about them. So they were best avoided where possible and destroyed where need be, which surely from their past experiences was the wisest option. The ear flicked back as the hungering maw drew in another breath of the stale, dusty cave. Not yet could it taste the enemy and it hoped, urged for that to not be much longer.
If there was nothing to be left for them among the enemy that could fight, those that would need answer for their deeds against Greenest and the givings of the world around them, then all that would remain was the proposed eggs. Which would be destroyed and destroyed swiftly the moment it became opportune. It mattered only if there was anything left for them to deal with first and the anticipation was becoming trying.
@Hekazu@Ryonara@Zverda@Lucius Cypher@Norschtalen
It was then the weretiger neared the bow-bearing priestess, sword resting comfortably in the grasp of a hand. While it did not turn to listen to the old seabound druid, a single ear kept on him for the time being, drinking in the advice that was given. There was to be no disagreement from the transformed huntsman, it could not hunt a trap, it could not kill a trap, it would do little in receipt or gratification for its purpose to worry about them. So they were best avoided where possible and destroyed where need be, which surely from their past experiences was the wisest option. The ear flicked back as the hungering maw drew in another breath of the stale, dusty cave. Not yet could it taste the enemy and it hoped, urged for that to not be much longer.
If there was nothing to be left for them among the enemy that could fight, those that would need answer for their deeds against Greenest and the givings of the world around them, then all that would remain was the proposed eggs. Which would be destroyed and destroyed swiftly the moment it became opportune. It mattered only if there was anything left for them to deal with first and the anticipation was becoming trying.
@Hekazu@Ryonara@Zverda@Lucius Cypher@Norschtalen
It is a rarity that I actually commit to words the nature of just what a voracious predatory cat does to its prey. Typically, in most writing forums and formats, it is generally considered a bit too much when on the subject of things being consumed. However, it is a topic that is to reasonably be expected given the entire design of carnivores and moreover those exceedingly specialized in it.
The hungering had stilled for the time being, forced to wait, forced to be content. Yet for the full course of the time they spent recovering and catching their breath, each moment was instead spent for the moontouched servant in anticipation. It was difficult to be still and idle although, with effort, some facade of calm settled. Brannor was for this time back to thinking, feeling for himself rather than the bestial rage that earlier burned within him. It afforded the perhaps much needed allotment to reflect, to consider, to even recognize.
So this was the Pale Lady's gift? It was not as though it was news to him, he had experienced it before, in Greenest and throughout life in his hunts, but to feel no longer enthralled in the calling? It was a magnificent weapon, trapped with no shortage of tools the finest and keenest of hunters could make use of. Each point of it seemingly armed in some capacity. To appreciate it was to realize much more of who the mysterious silver goddess was, what it meant to be gifted by her. So to take in something as seemingly insignificant as say, an appreciation for the savagery contained in even a single digit, that which strained the gloves, it spoke to the paladin more. He too was pale, marked by "light", a being of light in the darkness.
The calm, the focus returned to him, until he began to hear his allies stir. The anticipation and the fight to come that came with it snapped the golden eyed creature out of its trance...
@Hekazu@Ryonara@Zverda@Lucius Cypher@Norschtalen
So this was the Pale Lady's gift? It was not as though it was news to him, he had experienced it before, in Greenest and throughout life in his hunts, but to feel no longer enthralled in the calling? It was a magnificent weapon, trapped with no shortage of tools the finest and keenest of hunters could make use of. Each point of it seemingly armed in some capacity. To appreciate it was to realize much more of who the mysterious silver goddess was, what it meant to be gifted by her. So to take in something as seemingly insignificant as say, an appreciation for the savagery contained in even a single digit, that which strained the gloves, it spoke to the paladin more. He too was pale, marked by "light", a being of light in the darkness.
The calm, the focus returned to him, until he began to hear his allies stir. The anticipation and the fight to come that came with it snapped the golden eyed creature out of its trance...
@Hekazu@Ryonara@Zverda@Lucius Cypher@Norschtalen
@Hekazu, Brannor would not be willing to spend the time on such a thing in any case. If anything the majority of it would be spent in anticipation of the next thing to come, whatever that may be, while the rest of the ensemble recuperate some of their strength to keep going for however long and far this cave seems to be.
I have a weird obsession with cats, glitter, complimenting people, and the color pink!
You may stay.
That is what Brannor is suggesting, a short rest out of this room, so his vote will be there, @Ryonara. Unrelated yet of course relevant for @Lucius Cypher, the feral paladin would find the act strange but be completely indifferent to it. Cyanwrath was an enemy, just another thing to be hunted and felled, no personal attachment or involvement in it, so any moral judgment is effectively lacking.
The more I have come to share about the importance of felids, the more it appears people develop an actual appreciation and understanding of them. They become meaningful, something with purpose by mere proxy of existence, and I find that for all the better. Too, too many people seem to find cats of all sizes as "useless".
The voice of the other side of Brannor, the sword, claws, and fangs of the Pale Lady would disagree only with a gruff exhale but even in the hungering, hunting state it was undeniable that they had been taxed significantly. Cyanwrath and the worst he had to throw at them cost them much, almost two of them their lives outright, and only the threat of the actual dragon itself had been worse. Even if the pale, primal frame toeing carefully the line of man and beast wished to keep going, it was pointless. Dying in the pursuit out of not exercising caution was to fulfill nothing of merit. So the Champion of Greenest withdrew from the fallen least dragonkin, coming to stand, towering over them before adding limited comment.
"Not here." The turned, animal voice came, "Something is wrong with this place."
Between the supposed traps, the clearly unusual room, and the slain kobold which was not their doing - this was not wise. As it was, the marauding army had already left and it was unlikely they were to return here anytime soon from the look of it; why even leave in the first place if they intended to come back? Clearly Cyanwrath and his sect were hiding here, hoping for a return, but so soon? No, only their bones would be what was left for any to find. To say nothing of any other spawn lurking in the cave either.
Without much further comment the beast walked back toward where they had came from. Nose flaring, scenting, seeking still. In a way it hoped, he hoped, that this would bring back some hope to the broken village they had come to protect and avenge. After all, had they not been present, would it even be standing now? There was no knowing but the drive to rout the enemy further as they had done with their camp and now much of this cave was a start. Perhaps, one day, so too would this "queen of dragons" and their army fall to similar disarray at their hands.
@Hekazu@Ryonara@Zverda@Lucius Cypher@Norschtalen
"Not here." The turned, animal voice came, "Something is wrong with this place."
Between the supposed traps, the clearly unusual room, and the slain kobold which was not their doing - this was not wise. As it was, the marauding army had already left and it was unlikely they were to return here anytime soon from the look of it; why even leave in the first place if they intended to come back? Clearly Cyanwrath and his sect were hiding here, hoping for a return, but so soon? No, only their bones would be what was left for any to find. To say nothing of any other spawn lurking in the cave either.
Without much further comment the beast walked back toward where they had came from. Nose flaring, scenting, seeking still. In a way it hoped, he hoped, that this would bring back some hope to the broken village they had come to protect and avenge. After all, had they not been present, would it even be standing now? There was no knowing but the drive to rout the enemy further as they had done with their camp and now much of this cave was a start. Perhaps, one day, so too would this "queen of dragons" and their army fall to similar disarray at their hands.
@Hekazu@Ryonara@Zverda@Lucius Cypher@Norschtalen
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