#way a hunter respects their prey or a warrior respects another in a battle well fought. I don't think it has that respect for V2. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cljordan-imperium · 2 years ago

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Pixies - FINAL (Jan 2016)

The battle was over, but there was still much to do

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

tw - mentions of death and mourning, this is sad and solemn. Please be in a good place while reading, it's heavy.

A/N - if you are not in a good place you can text HOME to 741741 any time of day, any day of the week, and a trained counselor will be there to listen and help. You are not alone. You are not a burden. You are valid. You are heard. <3

The silence of my chambers was deafening as I stood in formal attire preparing to face the Nephilim Council, those who had come to pay their respects to our fallen, the members of the clave, and my brother. When the Council had arrived, there had been a flurry of activity. Nephilim going here and there, constant chatter that had driven me almost to the brink of insanity as the drone of it had risen to a fever pitch as the battle had been recounted it seemed endlessly by all who spoke to one of the members. Their voices held almost a tone of glee when regaling how we had defeated the pixies, a tone of awe when speaking of the Guardians. It seemed there were none that did not want to tell one of members a tale of how it happened. Except one, me. I had remained silent. For me, there was no glory in that battle. While we may have won, we suffered great loss as well. Loss that still still stung at the heart of me.

Now I was preparing to go down to the back gardens where 105 funeral pyres had been built. On each one now lay one of the shrouded fallen from that battle, one who I had failed to bring home from that night. My brother hadn’t had to ask how I felt, I could see in his eyes that he knew the pain and loss I now felt. Our conversations taking place more through the exchange of looks than through words since his arrival back at the manor. I understood him better now, I wished with all my heart I didn’t.

I looked in the mirror before heading out of my chambers and I swear I could see the change that had taken place from the girl who had spent her life running and hiding to the woman that now had lead an army, who had suffered great loss. It was in the hollows under my eyes, the way that I carried my shoulders, everything about me spoke to what I now was. No longer the hunted and the prey, I was now the hunter, the warrior, the bringer of death and sometimes death struck back.

The halls were empty as I descended the stairs to the first level. This was a welcome relief from the bevy of activity that had been in them the last few days. It was as if the entire manor itself was in mourning for those we had lost. The halls now quiet and empty, even my footfalls seeming to be absorbed into the ether as I walked more silently than I should have. The air itself felt different, heavier, as if all of the joy and happiness had been removed to leave only grief and sorrow behind in its wake. There was magic in every stone of the manor and I wondered as I reached the ground floor if that magic wasn’t reflecting back at us now it’s own sense of loss.

I slowly traversed the long hallway that lead that lead to the back of the manor where everyone was gathered. I had practiced my speech over and over and still it seemed the words rang hollow in my ears, for words alone could not convey the depth of my sorrow and the strength of character the fallen had shown. No words could do any of that justice and it seemed now a travesty to try. The fallen deserved to be honored though, so honor them we would before lighting the pyres that would release their spirits to the everafter and the Heaven that awaited them.

As the doors were opened and I walked into the sunlight, all eyes of those gathered fell on me. It was yet another weight upon me, another burden I felt I carried as I walked to the appointed spot at the top of the marble stairs that led down into the formal gardens, to be flanked on one side by my brother and the other by the head of the Nephilim Council. I looked to my brother, and there in his eyes I found understanding, pride, and faith in me. My brother who I had never understood since the day I first saw him in the infirmary, he was the one who now I looked to for understanding and the depths of it I saw in that one look touched me so deep that I can scarce even explain it. In that moment he gave me a gift so rare and special that I will treasure it always. Tears threatened to well up, but I fought them back and gave him a short nod before facing the gathered Nephilim.

“Brothers and Sisters, today we honor those who fell defending this city, this world we love, from the forces of evil. While our foe may have been tiny in size, their power was great and their numbers many. Every warrior knew the odds going into the battle were against us based on the past, but not one showed cowardice in the face of our enemy. Those who fell fought bravely and without them the victory we achieved that day would not have been possible. It was my supreme honor to have fought alongside these brave males and females, and it is my deepest regret that they did not return safely to those who loved them.” My voice cracked on the last word and I paused for a moment. I took in a deep breath before continuing. I owed them this. “Their names shall ever be inscribed in the Book Of Heroes and the tales of their bravery shall endure for future Nephilim generations to read of their heroic acts that night in the park. While their life on this Earth was cut short, their names and the spirit with which they fought will remain for eternity. They deserve more than this, but we who are living have no more to give them than to never forget the sacrifice that they made so that we may carry on the mission of protecting this world from evil.” I took two steps down towards the gardens where they pyres were. “Now each one will be remembered in turn as we release their spirit to eternity.”

I descended the remaining stairs, knowing that my brother and the head of the Council were only two steps behind me the whole way. Both men were over a foot and a half taller than me, so I knew they had to be significantly shortening their strides to keep from coming alongside me, but I heard nothing in complaint from either of them. Stoically we walked to the first pyre and the torch was lit, then handed to me. I turned again to face those gathered, reciting the name of the fallen Nephilim who lay behind me. Turning again to face the pyre I recited the same words which I would repeat 104 more times: “Esto sana a plaga tua mortalis in regno caelorum , virum fortem et nobilem . Litigatis est in hoc regno , animum tuum in pace. (Be freed from this mortal realm to your reward in the heavens, brave and noble warrior. You fight in this realm is over, may your soul be at peace. )”

At the end of the recitation, I lowered the torch and the pyre caught fire. The flames danced high into the sky, showering small embers and sparks over all gathered. I stood transfixed watching the oranges and the reds of the fire seem to dance over the pyre. I would not move until the corporal body of the Nephilim had been consumed, and it had to be the hardest thing I’ve ever done not to turn from watching it. I had always looked on fire as a thing of beauty, but this day it was so hideous to me that my stomach churned at it’s flames. The tears that I had held back so long would be restrained no longer and silently fell down my cheeks in streams as I stood unmoving.

Finally I felt a hand on my shoulder. Without turning I knew who it was, I could feel the familiar hum of his power in just his touch. For the first time, my brother’s power did not unnerve me, but provided a small portion of comfort. I do not know if it was him using his powers or the knowledge that he understood what it was like to do this and had done it himself, either way it was what I needed to carry on. I nodded, taking in a deep breath before moving to the next pyre to begin the ritual again. Somewhere between one pyre and the next I found my voice and dammed the tears that still flowed.

I am not sure how I remained standing or speaking through all of them, but I did. Dusk had fallen by the time that the last one had been lit and the body fully consumed and turned to ash. The sky around the manor was a dusky orange as the clouds above and the wards reflected the glow of the pyres that still burned. I returned to the spot on the stairs I had given my earlier speech. It was here I would stand until all of the pyres had been fully consumed to the ground and extinguished. It was my last duty as their commander, the last honor I could pay the fallen.

When all had gone dark, those who gathered dispersed, and the gardens had once again fallen silent. I walked to the nearest bench and sat, head bowed. I had gone over every detail of the battle in the preceding days, trying to figure out what I could have done different, what would have made a difference. I had come to realize it was never in my hands to decide their fate that day. I may have been in command of the army, but I never had control of the battle. It didn’t ease my guilt or banish my sorrow, but it did make it easier to face the oncoming battles that we would doubtless have to wage. Evil would never stop its attack on the mortal realm, and we would never stop driving it back. It was our mission and the reason for our race’s creation at the commission of the first sin. To protect mankind from the evil beings that would destroy it, we were created for a time such as this.

THE IMPERIUM CHRONICLES TAG LIST - @ceph-the-ghost-writer @kjscottwrites @writingpotato07 @saltysupercomputer @careful-pyromancer @late-to-the-fandom @autumnalwalker @perasperaadastrawriting @fearofahumanplanet @jessica-writes22 @dogmomwrites @mjjune @verba-writing @blind-the-winds @shipping-through-eternity

Anyone wanting added/removed, just let me know.

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unholyplumpprincess · 3 years ago

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Behave

Wanted to write for Eivor desperately bc I love her. Also ty to @mika-aris for being my cheerleader during this!!!

!!!Minors please do not Like or Reblog as this is an adult work, please respect my boundaries!!!

Reblogs > Likes. Please Reblog if you hit Like- and plz do not look respectfully, leaving horny tags fuels me!

Summary: You and Eivor have always had a flirtatious relationship, resulting in many close encounters. As a hunter, you go on trips to feed the settlement, recruiting warriors to come with you. When you offer to Eivor, she offers a counter of a trade. Private lessons to teach you how to fight, and in return she will give you company. What a shock she's in for when you show her you know damned well how to fight- and how to pin a big girl like her. Or. In which you pin Eivor in a spar match and she's Very horny about it.

Fandom: Assassin’s Creed Valhalla

Relationship: Eivor/Reader

Warnings: R18+/NSFT, Eivor is genderfluid and fem presenting atm, Eivor has a penis, Reader is gender neutral and genitalia is ambiguous so all can enjoy, No penetration or anything just dry/clothed humping

Words: 4k

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You would always rather be the hunter than the prey.

You were the hunter of your settlement inside the Raven Clan. Working alongside Petra and Wallace to ensure your entire settlement had the meat necessary for the feasts that were held often. The cattle could only birth so quickly, and the game within the forest could only be hunted so often before they, too, would deplete. Petra and Wallace stuck more to your island and its surroundings, while you preferred to venture off.

This normally resulted in you recruiting a few others to tag along, not to help with the hunt, but to help with the load you would return with. The furs were turned to furs for beds, the bones turned to weapons or arrow tips. Nothing ever went to waste.

The others you would recruit were simply to help cart back or boat back the hunts and to set up camp. And, of course, to provide intimidating company. You did not look to be a warrior yourself; You knew this. You did not have the rugged scarring of the others, or how they swung heavy axes over their shoulders and walked with swagger. But you were deadly with a bow, even deadlier with a blade in your hand. Silent, never startling your prey.

~Rest under the cut~

The only one who could hear you was the beloved Wolf-Kissed. Someone you had admired since back in your last settlement. Her braided red hair, all her tattoos, her crooked smile and the cocky prowess in her step. Or how she played with the little ones, chasing them in all her huge glory and her cloak making her appear all the larger.

You were close enough with the Jarl’s right hand. Enough that Eivor would seek you out, not just for questions or archery tips, but just to sit with you. Like when you were sharpening blades outside in the nice weather, how you’d heard her stalking up to you. She’d make conversation, her eyes watching you sharpen the blade and you looking up at her from under your lashes.

“Skilled hands.” She’d tell you, watching how you’d spin the knife in your grip with just your fingers.

You’d smile back up at her, sweet as could be. “Is it the skill that captures your attention, Wolf-Kissed? Or is it the implications beneath said skill that does?” Before you’d flip the knife in your grasp with a little toss and hold the hilt out to her. Always delighting in the smirk on her lips and her dark green eyes looking you up.

“A question I am sure you would like the answer to, hunter.” She’d tease back, taking the blade from you with her calloused fingers brushing your hand.

The flirting was heavy between you two. You suspected she merely had a strong sexual appetite, something you could satisfy. Yet, she never acted. An eternal tease.

Whether she was denying herself for the sake of denial. Or if she truly just had a flirtatious, friendly relationship with you was a question you never thought you’d get an answer to.

The question that leads to your answer is one asked in the longhouse.

A feast is going on at the time. Warriors and civilians alike enjoy the night of boosting morale. Someone is singing, someone is playing a lyre, another is telling tales of their battles and memories of the gods aiding them in said battles. Little ones are delighted by all, running about and through legs and giggling up a storm as they chase Mouse around. The large, white, domesticated wolf that seemed keen on staying in Eivor’s room lest it was to play with the children.

You’re sitting in your own corner on a wooden box, your feet propped up and one leg over the other. You work on your whittling project, carefully carving the raven’s wings with each painstaking feather. You like the noise around you, your own plate of food and mead long since downed. Your journal to your other side, containing details of where you were to hunt next. A rough sketch of a map and location you wanted to go to, and who pledged to help.

“Not enjoying yourself?” Comes that low, raspy voice in its forever tease. You peek up through your lashes to see Eivor approaching, a sway to her hip. Like a prowling wolf.

“On the contrary, I am. I like when it gets loud.” You tease back on your last words, flashing her a smile and enjoying the way her eyes narrow in challenge.

You move, sitting upright and kicking the box over to her that you had been using for your legs. Eivor bows her head politely, taking the seat offered and swinging her cup back to drink her last of mead before setting it to the side.

“You are recruiting for your next hunt?” She hums to you, glancing over to your journal. You follow her gaze briefly before returning your eye down to the tedious task of carefully carving out feathers.

“Yes...Why? Are you interested in attending this time?” You speak as you lift the charm in your hand, twisting it about in the light to get a good look at it. You draw it back to your lap when satisfied, looking towards her with a cocked head. “Or do the gods call you out once more, no time for play?”

Eivor’s sparkle in her eye returns at your playfulness and you like the look she gives you. That slow glance down to your lips, down your neck and body. She gives you a once over, a hum to her throat and leaning back against the wall with crossed arms as she does it. Making herself appear bigger, broader than she already is. A tone of amusement in her voice when she speaks. “Play time is what you call it?”

“Thought pups like you would call it that. Free to run and wrestle with who you please.” You struggle not to smirk at calling her a pup. Watching her eyes narrow but seeing a slight darken to her cheeks.

Oh? Perhaps the Wolf-Kissed had something you could dig your teeth into.

After a moment, you press again. “Are you interested in joining? You would not hunt. I merely request aid in bringing my boon back to camp. Just some muscle and company with a pretty face.”

“Perhaps. If you would accept a trade.” Eivor replies smoothly, her eyes sweeping you over and making you pause at what she might be implying. You lick your lips, suddenly much more interested in her than your project. You set it in your lap, giving her your full attention and cocking your head to glance her over.

“Loki kisses your gaze this evening,” You speak with a narrow of your gaze at the smirk playing on her lips. The sparkle in her eye. Gods- any that would hear you- she is deathly beautiful. “But, I shall bite. What limb must I give up to relish in your company, o’ Wolf-Kissed?”

“You would give a limb for my company, hunter?” It’s spoken as a jest, a light tease. A grin now reaching the apples of her cheeks, her sharp canines on display.

Gods help you, you wanted her to sink her teeth into your flesh.

“And you would give up your important duty of establishing alliances just to help me drag back prey,” You quip back quickly, leaning on your knees now so you can lean forward towards her. Your heart stutters when her eyes fall to your lips, but you mock obliviousness. “Seems we are on equal footing of desiring company.”

There’s a moment of pause where Eivor just looks at you. Her tongue flicking across her lips and a smile playing on her lips. She pushes from the wall, leaning on her own knees. Close enough to you that you can feel her breath when she speaks.

“I am told that you fight well with a dagger and bow. That your skills put down wild animals with ease- no matter the size. And yet, those around worry you do not know how to fight without your tools.” She speaks quiet, like it was just for you two to hear. You hold back a smile, biting your tongue as you realize where this is going. “Private lessons. I want to train you. Make sure you can hold your own in a fight if you lose your weaponry.”

“And since when do you believe the local gossip, Eivor?” You murmur, pushing your luck by shifting a bit to lean the tiniest bit closer. Relishing in the way you can hear her breath still, how you watch her pupils dilate for more reasons than just the candlelit hall.

“I accept your trade,” You say, leaning back and stretching your arms above your head to work out kinks from sitting there for so long. You pretend you do not see the way Eivor’s eyes sweep your frame. A hungry wolf. “When shall we begin this ‘training’ I seem to oh so desperately need?”

“Tomorrow at dawn. Meet me at the nearby clearing.” She speaks as she moves to stand. You watch her, your eyes following her just as hungry and noting the sway in her step. Even as she joins the others and gets rowdy with them. Slaps on the back or grasping someone’s nape and fondly bumping their heads together.

You sigh quietly to yourself when your heart flutters. Letting a breath out you didn’t know you had been holding. You’d...always wanted an excuse to get closer to her. Something more meaningful than just conversations. To be able to touch her in some form or another.

Regardless. You were quite looking forward to seeing Eivor’s face when she realized that you weren’t just some hunter. You knew how to fight, and you did it well. You were ready to protect the settlement and use whatever was on hand. Yes, you fought better with your weaponry. But that doesn’t mean you didn’t know how to knock someone on their ass and the get the upper hand.

The bigger they are...

You enjoy the rest of the feast with a feeling of eyes following you. Whenever you casually glance over you can see how her eyes follow you, peeking over her horn with her lips quirking into smirk.

You wanted to wipe that look right off her face.

That night, you sleep well. Rising early in the morning like you always did to get a good start of the day. You go through your morning routine of waking Petra and Wallace, which goes about as well as every morning. With both of them grumbling at you and Petra’s hand waving you away. You set about setting everything out for them to remind them of the stuffing of a few heads to be done today before leaving a note saying you’ll be out for the day.

The clearing was a ten-minute ride on horseback. Your beloved mare, Daffodil Violet Glenda Charolette the First, or merely Daffy for short, carried you there. All the while you lovingly chatted to her about what a good girl she was. Even doing so as you hopped off once you reached the tree line where you’d have to do the rest on foot. Tying her up and patting her side as she nosed at you in a little push. “Yeah, yeah, I’m going. You make a massacre of these flowers- know they’re your favorite, big girl.”

The walk from there is just a few minutes. You know you’re close when you hear the stream nearby. The break in the tree line revealing a near perfect circle of clearing. Beautiful little yellow and purple flowers in bloom among the wild flowers and grass. Butterflies fluttered about, the warm sun casting a beautiful glow on the world as it raised above the trees to shine its light onto the world.

In the middle of the clearing was Eivor. Already setting a fur up to the side and deerskins that you assumed were full of water. She shrugs out of her heavy fur and armor, setting that beside the fur. Her weaponry follows, axe and shield lain down cautiously.

“If I did not know any better, I would assume you were trying to court me.” You speak teasingly as you approach, watching her lift her head to look at you with a sparkle in her eyes. “What? No flowers?”

“I did not take you as the type to want flowers.” Eivor chuckles softly, standing to greet you. She towers over you when you approach, before she bends down to pluck a wildflower from the ground. Tucking it behind your ear when you are close enough and making your cheeks burn. “Forgive me. I shall remember for next time.”

You scoff at her, despite your heart’s pounding and your face burning. You lightly shove her, laughing when she catches your arm to tug you closer, leaning down towards your face. A form of intimidation, despite her grin. Her eyes looking down towards your lips...

You lightly bump your forehead to hers. Just hard enough to hurt to make her let you go before you move away from her. Getting some distance before she can grab you again. It’s worth the headache you’d have later just to see her bewildered expression. Going from startled, shocked, to impressed when Eivor offers you a crooked grin. “So. You do know how to fight. This makes things more fun.”

“As I told you before, O’ Wolf-Kissed,” Your voice coming low and teasing as you shed yourself of your cloak to give yourself more freedom. “Do not listen to gossip.”

Eivor is bigger than you, broader. She towers over you. It would be foolish to charge her, even while she’s taken off guard. It would be like hitting a wall. Instead, you stalk around her, letting her eyes watch your every move. You feel like you do when you are hunting, seeing a great bear ready for your dagger to swiftly end its life.

But there are no weapons here. Only bare hands and violence.

Eivor’s weakness, as you know, is she is not a patient woman. Seen when her fingers twitch, starting to growl at you when you don’t immediately attack her first. She charges you when you come in front of her, and you assume she expects her sheer size to take you out like a raging bull. You wait to feel the wind brush you to signal her closeness, quickly moving to the side and sweeping out your leg, forcing her to trip over your calf.

“Oldest trick in the book, Eivor, come on.” You tease. Only to yelp when she grabs your ankle and yanks you down onto the ground. You both laugh as you roll quickly, moving too quick for her to yank you into her grasp.

Her size and strength should have had you down before you could blink. But the gossip seemed to forget that though you did not raise your blade to man, you knew how to get your grasp out of a raging bear or wolf. And your dearest Wolf-Kissed looking at you with a snarl and laughter in her voice as she lungs for you was no different.

You two go tumbling on the ground, ending up being locked in a grasp where you can keep slipping just out of her grip. Until she becomes too impatient, losing her sense when you keep slipping. It leaves her open, vulnerable.

You strike then.

You force your weight forward to knock against her, hitting your knee into her stomach to make her gasp sharply as her air is knocked from her. It gives you enough time to use her own unbalanced weight against her, knocking her onto her back and climbing quickly on top of her. Straddling her stomach and slamming your knees into her hands to keep them underneath you and at her sides, knowing your leg power was much better than your upper body. You slam both your hands on either side of her head in the grass to keep your balance, caging her.

You’re both panting. Your breath mingling and your shadow casting over her. It doesn’t stop the sun from reaching her, kissing her tanned flesh. Her cheeks are flushed from exertion, her red hair sprawled around her and giving her the image of a lion. Her gaze is half lidded, her lips parted with each breath and her eyes flickering downwards towards your lips.

“Caught you.” You huff out, trying to ignore the feeling in your stomach at her gaze. Hungry, wanting, with a subtle tilt of her head back. It lets you see the glow of sweat clinging to her, and your mouth waters with the need to taste the salt of her skin.

“So you have.” She murmurs, her tone soft and low. It does no favors for how you feel right now. “And what do you plan to do with your caught prey?” Her tone is even lower, that damned smirk playing on her lips. She could fling you off if she wanted to. She was strong enough to. She’s not even struggling.

“That depends,” You murmur, leaning a bit closer to gauge her reaction. And judging by how she tips her head, her lashes fluttering and her lips parting, you take these all as good signs. You lean closer, close enough your noses brush and you can see her sun kissed freckles and her vivid green irises. “How long will you let me pretend you are prey?”

“As long as you are atop me? I cannot see myself anywhere else today.” She says a bit too breathily to just be exertion.

You don’t hesitate to lean forward the rest of the way to press your lips to hers. Eivor meets you with hunger, her hands finally working their way out from under your knees to reach up and cup your face. Your heart stutters, her calloused thumbs brushing against your cheeks as you reach to cup the side of her neck.

She tastes like berries from this morning, sweet and tart against your tongue. You moan into her mouth, parting your lips and matching her pace as you lick your way into her mouth. She mimics your sound, low and guttural in her throat with one of her hands falling from your cheek to grip onto the nape of your neck instead.

Eivor’s sighs into your mouth make you shudder at how pliant she’s being. When the kiss is broken, you don’t restrain yourself from kissing down from her mouth, over her cheek, down to her jawline where she willingly tilts her head for you. Allowing you to sink your teeth lightly into the tattooed flesh there and tracing downwards with your tongue.

Her moan when you sink your teeth into her neck makes your head spin. How her hands slide down your back, over the curves of your side to grip your hips and dragging them downwards. You don’t stop her, letting her hands guide you down from straddling her abdomen to instead her hips. The weight of your ass pressing against her.

Eivor groans low in her throat, and you move from her neck to kiss her again. Letting her hands guide your hips back and forth, grinding against her and feeling your body tremble with the heat coursing through you. Feeling that vague hardness under your body, slotting directly against you. Vaguely hidden by the thickness of both of your pairs of clothing.

“Eivor-” You moan as you part the kiss from her. Her hands only grip you harder, her hips starting to come up into you every time she jerks you forward. Hard enough that you can spread your legs a bit more across the broadness of her hips and feeling the friction with her.

You bite your lip, letting your body fall forward so you can rest your face in her neck. Your arms keep you propped up on your forearms, your fingers sinking into her hair to pull on it. Eivor growls in your ear, turning her head to press her lips to your temple and starting to murmur things to you as her hips come up against you. Like she’s trying to fuck you through your clothes.

Her deep voice makes you dizzy all the while she murmurs, ‘There you are, I have you.’ ‘Wish these clothes were not upon our bodies.’ ‘Want to taste you, want to make you cum-’ ‘Ambrosia will not taste nearly as good as I know you shall taste.’

There’s a wet patch on the front of your clothes as your eyebrows knit and you cling to her. Panting as you feel the fluttering in your abdomen, your hips starting to move in time with her tugs until you’re practically humping her.

You yelp as you’re rolled over, Eivor’s body like that of a bear in how it can cover yours easily. Her forearm presses into the ground beside your head to keep herself up, her other hand gripping your hip to force you to tilt them upwards so her own can hump against you. Like this, she can get deeper strokes, feeling the muscles in her body flexing when you reach up to loop your arms around her neck and dig your fingers into her hair.

You cum first, a cry from your lips that is quickly silenced when the hand by your head comes over your mouth. You moan into her hand frantically, your hands moving to grip her wrist as your eyes roll into the back of your head and you’re cumming in your clothes. Your hips stuttering upwards into her frantic, harsh humps against you until she’s snarling like a wolf. Her features scrunching up, eyebrows knitting as her hips stutter and she’s cumming with you.

You can feel the wetness against the front of her pants, pressed flush against you and allowing you to feel the hard outline of her through her clothes.

You’re both panting. Eivor moves to press her forehead to yours, her eyes closed while you peek at her through your lidded eyes. It’s quiet, a shared moment between you two until you break it with a small laugh. “You did not actually believe I needed training, did you, Eivor?” You say it accusingly, watching the way her lips quirk into a smile that she hides by turning her face to press into your neck.

“By the gods- private lessons my arse.” You laugh breathily, the dull thrumming of your heartbeat still felt in your body. You can hear her chuckling into your neck, a kiss pressed there that makes your heart flutter a bit harder. You truly did love her.

“Private lessons in trade for my company on your hunt,” Eivor murmurs, a reminder of the trade as she kisses up to your ear to nip it. No better than a grinning pup as she speaks low into your ear. “Perhaps you do need training. Shall your silver tongue work better elsewhere than just speaking insults towards me?”

You flush red, shoving at her and taking advantage of her weakened state to roll her back over. You wrap a hand loose around her neck, straddling her hips and delighting in how she looks at you so hungrily. A wolfish grin upon her lips as you huff, “If anyone needs ‘training’, it is you. Shall I teach you to behave like a good pup, o’ Wolf-Kissed?”

You delight in the way she bites her lip. How Eivor groans low in her throat like the idea of being made to submit under you was the goal all along.

You put pressure on her throat, delighting in the shocked, aroused look crossing her features when you growl out low. “I was not made to obey. But you, Eivor? I shall teach you to heel.”

And oh, you would make this puppy howl.

#Eivor #eivor varinsdóttir #Eivor x reader #Assassins creed #Assassins creed valhalla #nsft #lemon #Genderfluid Eivor #Trans Eivor #princess writing #reader insert

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raggydraws · 4 years ago

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Hey guys! I've had a lot of ideas I wanna share with you that we're inspired by our lovely Battle Medic Breezepelt anon, @lesbiandicegoblin, and another lovely asker (who I tried to look for but could find) who made a gender neutral term for permanent nursery residents called Royalty! I made,,,,a bunch of other jobs/professions for warriors and medicine cats! Plus some unique jobs/subclasses for all the canon clans. Here they are, there's a lot!

Different roles in the clans!

Besides Leader, deputy, medcat, warriors, queens and elders! All cats old enough to serve their clan are considered warriors. Cats can also just simply be a warrior or a medicine cat with no subclass, or they can double up in professions if they so choose. However some subclasses cannot be doubled up (Seer) or are restricted to certain cats (Older cats cannot be Mediators, warriors cannot becomes Seers, Seers cannot become Royalty, etc)

Warrior subclasses found commonly in all clans are: Scouts, Hunters, Wardens, Builders, Lore keepers, Royalty and Mediators!

Scout: Cats who are very fast, usually the first cats out and about in the mornings to scout out hunting spots. Usually the cats who patrol the most and are often in back of battles in case they need to run to camp for reinforcements.

Hunter: Cats who specialize in the art of hunting, doesn't always mean hunting prey. Typically the cats who hunt the most and often work alongside Scouts when leaf-bare rolls around.

Warden: Camp defenders, often referred to as Stone Wardens in riverclan, these cats are typically large and powerful to defend their clanmates in the event of an invasion. Clans will usually have 2 to 4 Wardens, 2 for the camp entrance, 1 for the nursery and 1 for the elders.

Builders: Cats who are very clever and work with plant fibers and other building materials to keep up the dens of their camps. Often also the cats who end up cleaning the camp the most often, typically a job for older cats but many apprentices will also help and use the skills learned in creative ways.

Lorekeeper: The storytellers and historians of the clans. Often considered an elders job, cats of all ages will agree a good story is great for morale. Apart from telling stories these cats are also the keepers of their own personal clan history alongside general history of the clans. These cats are also in charge of teaching the young cats the basic clan history they need.

Royalty: Permanent Queens, Kings and the in betweens of the nursery, these cats are the parents of all the clan's inhabitants. Often another form of retirement for some warriors, the cats who choose to become Royalty over any other professional are revered and respected as the backbone of all clans. Royalty are in charge of the care and raising of any kits and their parents who reside in the nursery. They are also often retired or still active Wardens or Court Medics as well. (Made by Royalty anon, please let me know if you want proper credit I couldn't find you i apologize!)

Mediator: The peace keepers of the clans, these cats are the opposite of canon medicine cats. Picked from an early age as to prevent any biases from forming, Mediators are considered to be from all the clans. Mediators spend their apprenticeship bounced between all professions and all the clans so they have information and experience in all things. These cats are also the least bound by the warrior code, as they are loyal to the clans as a whole. These cats also tend to form half clan relationships and usually are half-clan themselves. Clans typically have 2 mediators at a time, the senior mediator and the apprentice, and the only time when there might be more than 2 is the overlap between a retired mediator and a newly appointed one.

Medicines cat subclasses commonly found in all clans are: Seer, Gardener, Battle Medic and Court Medic.

Seer: The medicine cat who has the strongest connection to StarClan, typically the senior medicine cat but not always. These cats are trained closest to the medicine cat code and usually trained away from camp and their clanmates to sever any familial bonds to stay completely unbiased. These cats have training for omen sightings and medical knowledge, but no training in fighting or hunting in order to stay 'pure' in the eyes of Starclan. Considered to be the only 'true' medicine cat and only subclass that can't be doubled up with other subclasses. (In reference to the GreenRose Au, these are the cats who receive the gift of the 'Spark' from Starclan.)

Gardener: either a regular warrior acting as an assistant or a medicine cat who tends to the art of herb gardening/gathering and the foraging of herbs! These cats can be anyone who takes to the art, or a medicine cat who simply enjoys it more so than their other options. Cats who help out a lot but don't participate in the art of gardening are called Helpful Paws or Healpaws depending on the clan.

Battle Medic: Medicine cats (or assistants) who serve the front lines of battles, often directly participating in the fight healing any injured clanmates or dragging away those who are too injured to continue fighting. These cats are trained in fighting and are only allowed to use this training self defense, of either themselves or their patients. Battle Medics are not allowed to attack other medics or any cat too obviously injured to be fighting. These cats are also called 'Grave Walkers' as they will usually prepare the passing rites of any cat who has fallen in battle, so their spirit can move on peacefully. Warriors who change their profession to medicine cat will usually become a Battle medic. (Idea made/inspired by battle medic!Breezepelt anon @lesbiandicegoblin)

Court Medic: Medicine cats (or assistants) who serve the cats in the nursery. Cats who are expecting or nursing kits will typically have one Royalty and one Court Medic looking after them and their children. These cats treat any of the nursery inhabitants, be it a parent, a kit or Royalty, and excel at the profession, often being as kind and nurturing as a parent themselves. Most cats who are Royalty are usually trained to also be a Court Medic, but may be referred to as either. If a court medic is also a warrior, they are only allowed to perform their Court Medic duties if they have finished their warrior duties for the day or if no other Court Medic is available.

Clan variants and unique subclasses by clan:

Thunderclan:

Brute: Cats who reveal in the art of battle, not as popular a profession as it once was. Slowly being reintroduced to Thunderclan but many cats tend to avoid it as they believed it to be cursed. The Thunderclan equivalent to Windclan's 'Strategist'.

Storm Chasers: A recently introduced job, these cats are trained in the tale tell signs of storms and are to warn their clanmates of potential flooding. Somewhat introduced by Stormfur of Riverclan during his brief stay in Thunderclan, hence the name, it was really only picked up after the first large flood after the battle with the Dark Forest. One of Thunderclan's first Storm Chasers was Briarlight, as she could feel the oncoming storms in her old injuries.

Windclan:

Strategist: Cats who excel in planning, whether it be battle, patrols or life in general. These cats are intelligent and quick thinking, often leading battle patrols from the back to bark out orders to the fighters. Common choices for deputies. The Windclan equivalent of Thunderclan's 'Brute'.

Tunnelers: An old Windclan profession brought back after the discovery of the tunnels underneath Windclan and Thunderclan territory. Mostly used for hunting and travel in harsh weather, Leaders and Mediators agree the tunnels couldn't be used for combat due unstable conditions and for most part that treaty has been upheld by Windclan. New tunnels are slow in the making due to having lost the profession for several seasons but cats are learning and discovering new ways to safely make more tunnels.

Shadowclan:

Moonlight Warrior/Night Stalkers: the Shadowclan equivalent to Skyclan's 'Daylight Warriors'. These are nearly nocturnal cats who serve their clan best at night, sometimes being rogues or kittypets who wish to be a part of the clan but not leave their housefolk behind. These cats have excellent night vision and simply feel all the more comfortable in the chill of night, often performing tasks that warriors or medicine cats couldn't accomplish during the day. Some of these cats will usually opt out of clan gatherings but it's not uncommon for those cats to guard camp while everyone else is away.

Spy/Ambusher: A Shadowclan subclass of scout, these cats are known for their stealth and trickery. They are the deadliest of Shadowclan's warriors and know how to keep a secret, there's no way of telling when a Shadowclan spy is telling the truth or not and thus they tend to be mistreated by cats both inside and outside their clan by sheer paranoia. Most are unbuffered but spies always confined in their leaders about what information and resources they've discovered.

Riverclan:

Bard/Poet: The Riverclan equivalent of Lorekeepers. Singers and songwriters, cats who can string together words that are as smooth as the lake at dawn. These cats are charming and love to spice up the history of the clans with a bit of song, most warriors of Riverclan are also bards or poets but the ones who excel at the profession are known across the clans.

Lake Watchers: Cats who keep an eye on the fish levels in the lake. These cats work alongside side warriors, hunting patrols and deputies to make sure the fish population in the lake never gets too low as to starve the clan. They also keep an eye on the Lake when it storms, they could be considered a Riverclan variation of Thunderclan's 'Storm Chasers'.

Skyclan:

Daylight Warrior/Dawn Walkers: The OG, the bringer of the Daylight Warriors. Typically a kittypet or rogue who wants to join the clan but not leave their housefolk behind. Also warriors who are more active during the day and less active at night. These warriors are unbuffered by the heat and blinding light of the day and are the most useful warriors during the hot summer months, and when they are the kittypet variety of this class they also have the advantage of another source of food as to not worry about any food storages.

Climbers: Cats who specialize in the climbing of trees and other vertical objects. These cats can leap great heights and distances with their powerful back legs, and it is the most common profession in skyclan. While most apprentices are taught the basics of climbing trees, these cats dedicate their lives to honing the craft. You can often spot these cats in trees keeping watch over the clan and their territory and hunting, they also use this method to ambush any intruders.

If you have a any question or are curious about any of them feel free to ask! I had fun coming up with these and I hope you all like them. They're free to use so if want to all you have to do is credit!

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skekheck · 4 years ago

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All About the Seven Clans: the Stonewood

THIS POST CONTAINS EVERYTHING I COULD FIND ABOUT THE STONEWOOD. SOME INFORMATION WRITTEN HERE ARE FROM OLDER MATERIAL AND MAY EITHER CONTRADICT STATEMENTS OR IS NO LONGER RELEVANT. I WILL DO MY BEST TO STRING IT ALL TOGETHER AS COHERENTLY AS POSSIBLE. IF THERE IS INFORMATION THAT I AM MISSING, PLEASE LET ME KNOW AND I’LL ADD IT!

Clan Index: Dousan Drenchen Grottan Sifa Spriton Stonewood Vapra

The Stonewood, once known as the Woodland Folk in ancient times, lived in the Endless Forest (or in other versions called the Dark Wood). Made strong and resilient from their environment, they were the perfect soldiers and constituted the majority of the skeksis army. While they were a warrior clan, the Stonewood were peaceful who valued gelfling culture and songs. Their hometown, Stone-in-the-Wood, was the site of major historical events throughout Thra’s history.

The Stonewood totem animal was the Fizzgig and their core elements were fire, the hearth, and keeping of the song and essence of gelfling culture. Their clan color was red, their sigil was beige and green with earthy tones, and their pennant color was red with green and yellow detail.

Characteristics

The Stonewood were some of the strongest and hardiest of all gelfling. They had an olive complexion with green or greenish-blue tinting. Like gelfling from other clans, Stonewood tints were visible on the face but were restricted to the forehead, temples, and around the the eyes. Hair was black, brown, or a mix of both with highlighted sections of blue and/or green. Styling was very minimal with some braiding and styled up in ribbons or clips, but were mostly kept loose. Eye color tended to be blue or various shades of brown. In the J.M. Lee book series, Stonewood wings came in a variety of colors. Shoni, Rian’s mother, had brown and red wings with two large black eyespots accented by other dapples of orange, gold, tan. Maudra Fara in this version had dark burgundy and gold wings.

Stonewood clothing was described to have browns and other natural foresty shades like greens and grays. They preferred to wear leathered armor over regular civilian clothes regardless of their profession. They were also known to carry light weapons on them at all times.

Lifestyle

Strength, courage, and hardiness were traits the Stonewood valued and emphasized, especially towards other clans. The Stonewood way was to remain put and endure so they grew strong and prospered. All of these values made them perfect warriors. But despite this, the Stonewood were very peaceful. Much like the Fizzgig, their totem animal, they only fought to defend themselves. There was a heavier focus on the community as well as culture and song.

The Stonewood had great respect for nature, but were also aware that they lived in one of the most dangerous regions on Thra. They understood that no gelfling was on top of the food chain and had to adapt to an eat or be eaten world. They favored a hunter-defender archetype: to understand the cycle of life and have the knowledge to protect oneself as well as their loved ones. But they chose to abide by the laws of nature and frowned upon things like hunting for sport.

The Stonewood Clan had the second largest population of all seven clans, only succeeded by the Vapra. Thanks to an abundance of resources provided by the forest as well as by other clans and the skeksis, their population flourished during the Age of Division. There were smaller Stonewood villages spread out all over the forest to compensate for the clan’s size. This process was difficult for them to accept as it went against some of their traditional values. The Stonewood were known to be slightly more advanced than other gelfling clans as they had sophisticated weaponry and armament to protect their homes with.

Daily Routine

A Stonewood’s day started off with the sound of clangs of blacksmith hammers early in the morning. The maudra and her elder council assigned daily tasks to all adult gelfling. Those whose jobs took them outside of the village said their good byes and departed early. The others that stayed met with their groups to discuss the day’s plan. Work continued until sunset when the clan’s hearth is lit for the communal supper with the accompaniment of a song or two. Lanterns full of firebugs were kept alighted for gelfling working nightshifts.

Aside from nightly songtelling, the Stonewood had other pastimes. The most notable of them were sports and competitions. Regardless of whoever won, all Stonewood showed great sportsmanship and encouraged one another. A popular pastime among childlings were Ipsy battles. During mating seasons, the otherwise peaceful male Ipsy would fight other males for the affection of the female. Childlings would collect Ipsy males and staged battles between them. When the battles concluded the childlings would return the unscathed Ipsy males back to the forest.

As a large industrious community, the Stonewood Clan had a variety of jobs. There were blacksmiths, woodcrafters, stoneworkers, firekeepers, gardeners, hunters, and a dozen other specialists. Unlike in most clans, songtellers were seen as integral to the Stonewood as other occupations. The clan had unique professions as well. One were wayfinders: they were responsible for helping travelers on their journey and kept them from getting lost within the Endless Forest. Sometimes, a wayfinder would spend days aiding a gelfling. Another was staba-senta or “wood watchers”. They were more keenly aware of the balance of creatures within the wood and were charged with maintaining and upholding it.

Stone-and-Wood Crafting

Inspired by their environment’s requirements for resilience, the Stonewood turned the trade of stone-and-wood crafting into an art. It was a highly sought out skill for its high difficulty and importance in fortifying the village. Stone-and-wood crafters were able to weave wood, trees, and stone together to create many homes for the clan. It took many trine to learn the skills and even more to execute them. A woodcrafter would spend their entire life growing wood into specific shapes. For stone cravers it took generations to shape a single rock.

Although some Stonewood used metal swords and the like, hunters and trappers preferred stone tipped spears and finely crafted stone daggers. Stonewood spears, their preferred weapon, were renowned for their durability and perfect balance.

Stone-in-the-Wood’s Famous Instrument Makers

Among Stonewood’s crafters lived one family who were famous for their instruments. They were often away from the village collecting materials from all over Thra. They built their instruments from ordinary materials like wood and stone, but also mixed unusual ones. Some items included melted crystal sand, Sifan driftwood, fine shards of bone, and hollow feathers. It was said that the materials used in these instruments invoked the voice of Thra itself. Among their instruments, their lyres were the most popular. Even the All-Maudra’s musicians sought them out for their unique sound. Despite being busy, the family took up apprentices so they too could create unique instruments.

Stonewood Legends: Jarra-Jen

Songtelling and folklore were an important part of Stonewood culture and they had plenty of songs about famous characters and legends to tell every night around the hearth. One of these popular characters was Jarra-Jen the Lightning Born who came from Stone-in-the-Wood. As his epitaph suggested, his birth was heralded by lightning. He was characterized as fearless, charming, and curious with an intensity only rivaled by the forces of nature. Whenever he returned home, he’d always brought treasure and mouth-full of stories from his adventures. Many of his stories were told around campfires and memorialized on the stone slabs found on top of Bolentor’s rise.

Some songs were created to explain the origins of things such as him being the one to plant all seven Great Trees. Others were meant to entertain or teach lessons, whether they were true or not. One favorite epic was called Jarra-Jen and the Horn of Thunder. After passing a series of tasks, Jarra-Jen defeated the tyrant Creghel and freed the gelfling he enslaved. Another song, which was more popular with younglings, was called Jarra-Jen and the Fizzgig King. It taught younglings from digging and accidentally disturbing hibernating fizzgigs during the colder seasons. Jarra-Jen accidentally steps on the Fizzgig King’s tail and was swallowed hole. In order to free himself, the hero tickled the inside of the king’s throat which expelled him. The sound effect of the king’s flatulence was left up to the songtellers to put their own unique signature on the song.

While Jarra-Jen was a Stonewood legendary figure, his tales were told and celebrated by other clans and regarded as a hero of Thra.

Stonewood Legends: The Hunter

For every hero there was also a villain and no Stonewood villain was as popular as the Hunter. He went by other names like Bone-Mask and Four-Arms, but many agreed that he was a bloodthirsty one-of-a-kind monster who loved hunting for sport and ate his prey whole. Stories about the Hunter were told to older childlings to keep them from wondering the forest at night, like the short song “Beware the Hunter”. Legends of the Hunter were found all over the Endless Forest and surrounding regions, even finding their way in Spriton and Podling stories. “The Hunter’s Knife” was a notable non-Stonewood myth sourcing the Mystic Valley as the Hunter’s birth place and the noises that came from it was his heart (which he carved out to continue his evil deed unrestrained) who desired to return to his body. Some songtellers, like Kylan, told stories featuring the Hunter and Jarra-Jen together.

Not many Gelfling believed the Hunter existed, but the legends were based on skekMal the Hunter. He was an outcast skeksis whose main hunting grounds were the Endless Forest and its surrounding regions. He was as bloodthristy and fearsome as the songs described him. So skilled was he in his profession that he remained undetected by most Gelfling, with the exception being the Dousan who guided him through the Crystal Desert. SkekMal’s prey didn’t usually include Gelfling unless under certain conditions as he, in his own words, considered weak and preferred stronger creatures. This was different in the book series as he hunted indiscriminately. He bathed in gelfling essence to mask his scent which made it easier for him to catch prey. He also prevented podlings from expanding outside of the forest and Spriton plains as he hunted them down and delivered some as slaves for the other Skeksis. Regardless, skekMal was always a terrifying force and feared by many even by his own kind.

SkekMal’s reign of terror finally ended at the Second Battle of Stone-in-the-Wood which was his (at least seemingly) first and last public appearance. Before killing Rian, his latest target, his other half urVa the Archer sacrificed his life in order to stop him. As the two were spiritually connected, skekMal died as well.

Diet

A Stonewood diet was varied which included meats from game caught by hunters and the many fruits, vegetables, and other edible plants growing in the dense forest. They would also purchase foods that couldn’t be grown or produced in the Endless Forest. Stonewood dishes were prepared near the clan’s hearth and were commonly roasted, baked, and seared. Food was served in groups and were noted to be jolly, hearty, and unforgettable.

Peachberries were one of the well known native fruits found in the Endless Forest. It had a sweet and sour flavor that was easy to pick. More dangerous to obtain fruits were that of the bluemouth. The bluemouth was a carnivorous plant that lures prey in with its sweet smelling nectar and were dangerous to Gelfling. The fruit of the Bluemouth Tree was considered a delicacy for that reason. The fruit of the arara (or screaming) tree was less dangerous. As a defense mechanism, it produced poison by screaming. It was deadly to smaller animals, but for Gelfling, it put them in a dreamlike daze. Other foods included merkeeps, a delicious tuber found in traditional Stonewood foods.

Stonewoods usually washed down their foods with a cup of cold water from the Black River. Other noteworthy beverages was the Stonewood Brew, a type of alcohol that trickled down from trees into a giant trough called the Brew Trough. Both natives and outsiders alike served themselves or each other with the cups stacked near by.

Stonewood Apothecary and Recreational Poisons

The Endless Forest had the most diverse flora and fauna, including ones that were venomous and poisonous. Stonewood apothecaries had an important role of supplying treatments and antidotes for a variety of inflictions gelfling received. And on the flip side, they found ways to use harmful substances for more benign ones. Even usually fatal poisons could be altered (through fire, water, or soil) and distilled into potable liquids. Plenty of these recreational poisons were traded among themselves and other clans.

One of the more involved distilling methods were from the poisons created by the arara tree. When produced in smaller quantities, it had a relaxing effect. Apothecaries got the help of experienced harvesters who stealthily picked the fruits off the tree before it had time to produce its signature scream. When given to the apothecaries, the berries were placed into bowls of water and the apothecary would scream in the perfect tone of the screaming tree. The berries would react and produced its slime which dissipated. It was later reduced into a measurable substance and bottled.

Stone-in-the-Wood, Hometown of the Stonewood

Stone-in-the-Wood was the main village of the Stonewood Clan. Like their namesake, they lived in shell and stone homes interwoven into trees. It was surrounded by mounds of rock and a lake that sat next to the Black River. It had sections for tourists and traders as well as private ones exclusive to Stonewoods only. The Crucible, the clan’s hearth, lied at its center with the Stonewood Great Hall beyond it.

The Great Hall was the home of the Stonewood Maudra. It had a large chamber where they held court. When a gelfling, or sometimes podling, misbehaved guards would send them into the Rascal Hole. It was a small jail held down beneath the floor of the Stonewood Great Hall and not too far from the maudra’s throne.

The village was the second largest gelfling settlement. It became a popular tourist and trading site as the village was a necessary stop to go anywhere in the Skarith region. Beyond that, Stone-in-the-Wood was believed to be the original home of the gelfling, making it one of the oldest gelfling civilizations. It was also the location of important historical events in Thra’s history.

The Historic Battles of Stone-in-the-Wood

Two historical battles took place in Stone-in-the-Wood. The first battle was also the conclusion of the Arathim Wars. When the Arathim were kicked out of their ancestral home by the skeksis for refusing to join the Alliance of the Crystal, they rebelled. The rebellion was a series of attacks throughout the Age of Division until thirty trine before where Age of Resistance series began. The First Battle of Stone-in-the-Wood began while Ordon and Fara searched for the dual glaive which was rumored to help end the war. The village was evacuated when the Arathim arrived with Maudra Vala and her warriors there to defend it. At first the Arathim had the upper hand, decimating the gelfling forces and inflicting a fatal wound against the maudra. She survived long enough to see Ordon arriving with the dual glaive. After killing several Arathim, he plunged his sword into an Ascendancy of Silk Spitters and drained them of its essence. Ordon promised to let the Arathim live if they stopped their assault on the gelfling. The weakened Ascendancy gave in and retreated from the village but promised this wasn’t the end. This event officially ended the Arathim Wars.

The Second Battle of Stone-in-the-Wood was the first major battle of the Gelfling Resistance. Stone-in-the-Wood previously had a failed assault on the skeksis in both the TV and book series where the Stonewood were thwarted by the skeksis or the Arathim. The survivors of that failed assault returned to join Rian and his small rebellion ready to fight the skeksis. There were casualties on both sides, including three skeksis and Maudra Fara who sacrificed her life protecting All-Maudra Seladon. But it also brought the return of Mother Aughra and unity of all inhabitants of Thra when the other six gelfling clans and their former enemies the Arathim proclaimed their support of the resistance. This was the gelfling’s first major victory fighting the skeksis.

Bolentor, the Pride of Stone-in-the-Wood

Also known as the Stone Tower, it was a large mount of rocks weaved together by vines, roots, and trees. The stone’s rise was where Stone-in-the-Wood was positioned. Its top was covered in talking stones featuring the dream-etched legends and folklore of the Stonewood Clan. It told of Jarra-Jen’s adventures, stories of Gyr the Songteller, and Aughra’s teachings. Strangely, many of the rocks that constructed the mound originated from other regions of of Thra like the Claw and Grottan Mountains. Speculation were all over the place from a giant moving the rocks there to being petrified droppings of an enormous bird.

A favorite theory came from the song called Maudra Melyff the Rock Singer. Though the gelfling in the tale was actually unnamed, many agreed that she fit the description. According to the song, the maudra was so lonely that when she sang the mountains were moved and offered their boulders to keep her company. A different version of this tale was found in the book series and the maudra was named Maudra Ynid the Tree Singer. Similarly alone, she wept at the heart of the Endless Forest and with the Cradle Tree’s blessing, stones multipled from the Earth and became Stone-in-the-Wood. She was also said to be the sister of Mesabi-Nara, one of the Drenchen’s first maudras.

The Stonewood had a name-day tradition that revolved around Bolentor and was considered a rite of passage. Younglings whose sixth name-day anniversary landed within the same season were sent to climb Bolentor without the guidance of adults with a chisel in hand. Once they reached the top, they found a stone and carved a sigil into it. That sigil became the sign of their name which was memorialized among hundreds of others before them.

The Crucible

At the center of Stone-in-the-Wood was the Crucible, both a monument and hearth. Like other gelfling hearths, it was the gathering place of the Stonewood during important occasions. It was where the maudra made her announcements and conducted ceremonies. Traders from other regions would come to the Crucible to be welcomed by the village.

Within the Crucible were dozens of swords and other weapons. It tied with a Stonewood tradition: whenever the clan returned from a battle, their warriors placed their weapons within the Crucible to be melted until there’s nothing left. It was the Stonewood’s way of leaving their aggressive acts and memories behind and go back to their normal lives. In some cases, the melted remains were used as other symbols. After Maudra Vala died, her sword was melted and forged into a crown. Her daughter and successor Fara wore it as a reminder of the battles that were fought, the cost of peace, and to never forget those who lost their lives.

It was one of many examples of the Stonewood’s relationship with their patron element fire. Gelfling from this clan were described to have “fire in their hearts and whose embers never died”. It’s no wonder that the Stonewood gelfling Rian was the one who lit the fires of resistance and sent out his message of rebellion through the Crucible.

The Wall of Destiny

The Wall of Destiny was a giant prophecy that foretold the end of skeksis rule. It was discovered by Jen and Kira when they stumbled upon ruins of a gelfling settlement. At least in the book series, its location resided within Stone-in-the-Wood. In that book’s version of the Second Battle, the gelfling defeated the skeksis through song and their combined singing formed the creation of the Wall of Destiny.

Another version of its creation happened when both Gelfling and Podling were taken as slaves by the skeksis. Dismayed, they looked into the fires of prophecy. Seven circles of seven Gelfling, (which totaled 49 Gelfling), laid on the hilltops at night. With magic their dreams were made into stone and the Wall of Destiny was created.

It told the Gelfling their quest: to find the lost Shard and heal the Crystal by the next Great Conjunction. However, the skeksis saw the prophecy too and feared the Gelfling would succeed. To stop them, the skeksis sent their Garthim and Crystal Bats to find and kill all gelfling. However, at least two survived: Jen of the Stonewood and Kira of the Vapra. Jen ultimately became the Gelfling foretold in prophecy that reunited the shard with the Crystal and ended skeksis rule.

Olyeka-Staba the Cradle Tree

The Cradle Tree was the Stonewood’s patron tree. It towered over all the others within the Endless Forest whose trunk was as wide as the Black River. It was the originator of all other trees and what the forest felt and heard was also heard and felt by the Cradle Tree. It was only a short distance from Stone-in-the-Wood and many gelfling visited it often. Stonewoods sat underneath the tree and hoped to hear its wisdom while others came to inspect it for illness as it determined the health of the entire forest. When one lied beneath it, they would experience a soothing sensation described as being cradled by one’s mother. “The Cradle Tree’s Lullaby” was a popular song sun by Stonewood mothers while rocking their childlings to sleep.

Like the other Great Trees, the Cradle Tree struggled to keep the darkening at bay. In the book series, the Cradle Tree was so sick with it that it displayed vivid hallucinations which preyed on the fears of the individual. Both Naia and Kylan went through this ordeal with Naia being haunted by apparitions of her brother and Tavra. It also attacked her with vines and roots until she was helped by Kylan. Naia was able to dreamfast with it and healed it of the darkening.

Relationship With the Skeksis And Other Clans

The Stonewood benefited from the influx of traders and visitors, but it reinforced clan-first mentalities. To preserve a sense of safety, stability, and culture, the Stonewood created public and private sections of the village. The clan was kind and friendly to any outsiders but would treat them coldly if they trespassed on private property, on accident or not. Besides that, they seemed the most susceptible to clan stereotypes, seeing how some were highly suspicious of the Dousan and ignorant of the Grottan. While the Stonewood believed they were tougher and sturdier than other gelfling, outsiders viewed them as aggressive and arrogant.

Being geographically the closest to the skeksis, the Stonewood were frequently called upon to be guards at the castle of the Crystal. In fact, they made up the majority of the skeksis’ army up until the late Age of Division. Plenty of Stonewood were elated to get their recruitment letters as it was seen as one of the biggest honors a gelfling received. Because of this, the Stonewood believed they had a more intimate relationship with the skeksis than other clans.

That ultimately created some resentment towards the Vapra. Many Stonewoods believed the skeksis were in error by choosing the Vapra as the ambassadors and leaders of the gelfling clans. It wasn’t a secret either as the Stonewood had passionate conversations about the topic. Even Stonewood Maudras would make mention of it while in the presence of Vapran representatives. These vents never went too far as they knew disagreeing with the Vapra was also a disagreement towards the skeksis. Such comments risked their reputation as well as access to resources and valuable supplies. Despite it being a well-known secret, the Stonewoods kept it to themselves.

Of all the clan relationships, none were more well known than the rivalry between the Stonewood and the Spriton. The severity of the rivalry were different between the TV and book series. In the timeline established by the Age of Resistance, the rivalry was seen more in childlings and didn’t go as far as name-calling and rumormongering. With a mix of the skeksis’ meddling and Stonewood’s overall competitiveness kept this rivalry alive. In contrast to the book series, however, was more serious. The Spriton were a warrior clan in this version and fought over territory with the Stonewood over the trine.

Legacy of Stonewood: Jen

Although most gelfling were wiped out during the Garthim Wars, their legacies were kept alive by their survivors. Jen was the son of at least one Stonewood parent and seemingly the only surviving member of his clan. He was rescued by urSu the Master who took him to the Valley of the Mystics and raised him in safety. On his death bed, urSu cryptically explained to Jen about his destiny. He was able to succeed in his quest with the help of Kira.

Jen seemed to know some small things about his heritage. He wore the Stonewood sigil on his clothing and was taught how to play the firca. urMaj the Cook attempted to make him gelfling food, but Jen noted it never tasted right It was possible that what Jen learned he passed it onto future gelfling civilizations and preserved what was left of gelfling culture.

Notable Stonewood Members

Rian: Son of Ordon and Shoni who lived during the late Age of Division. He was a castle guard who witnessed his girlfriend Mira be drained by the skeksis. Taking the only proof of the skeksis’ betrayal, he was marked as a traitor and wanted by the lords to keep their secret hidden. Rian started as well became the unofficial leader of the Gelfling Resistance. Like his father, Rian ended up wielding the Dual Glaive.

Ordon: A veteran of the Arathim Wars and the first wielder of the Dual Glaive. He was promoted to be a captain of the castle guards after his victory in the First Battle of Stone-in-the-Wood. Not knowing that the skeksis were the true perpetrators, Ordon personally requested to seek out Rian in the hopes of curing the supposed sickness that caused his “treachery”.

Maudra Fara the Rock Singer: The Stonewood Maudra who succeeded her mother Vala during the late Age of Division. She believed in strength and loyalty and did whatever she believed was necessary for her clan. She played a big part in the Arathim Wars as well as being the first maudra who challenged the skeksis when she learned about the truth.

Shoni: Rian’s mother and husband of Ordon who lived during the late Age of Division.

Jen: The seemingly last surviving member of the Stonewood Clan nearing the end of the Age of Division. Saved by urSu the Master, Jen was raised by the mystics so that he would fulfill his destiny of ending skeksis rule and save Thra.

Maudra Vala: A Stonewood maudra and mother of Fara. She lived during the late Age of Division and took part in the First Battle in Stone-in-the-Wood where she was fatally wounded.

Thriya: A songteller who lived during an unknown time in the Age of Division. She spent her entire life traveling all over Thra to learn about the cultures and songs of each gelfling clan.

Mythra: A book series exclusive character. She was the younger sister of Rian who supported him while he was branded as a traitor. She also took part in and survived the Second Battle of Stone-in-the-Wood.

Timtri: Rian’s younger brother who only exists in the book series.

Maudra Melyff the Rock Singer: Believed to be one of Stonewood’s first maudras. She was credited with the creation of Bolentor which would become the home place of the Stonewood. In some iterations she’s known as Maudra Ynid the Tree Singer and was sisters with the Drenchen’s first maudra.

Old Ari: An old songteller who lived during an unknown time within the Age of Division.

[Sources: Song of the Seven Gelfling Clans, the official Dark Crystal website, Shadows of the Dark Crystal, Song of the Dark Crystal, Flames of the Dark Crystal, The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance, the Dark Crystal Film, The Dark Crystal Age of Resistance: An Epic Return To Thra, The Quest for the Dual Glaive, Creation Myths, Author Quest: The Gelfling Gathering, Heroes of the Resistance, the Dark Crystal Bestiary]

#the dark crystal #stonewood #gelfling #all about the seven clans #my posts

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the-blind-assassin-12 · 4 years ago

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Resol’nare - Part Seven

A/N: This part has a lot of bits that I have been excited to share. There are a lot of pieces of my own HCs in here, as well as a few plot hint crumbs that I’ve had fun developing, so I hope you guys enjoy this one! (Also sorry it was late- we got power back late last night and I was too lazy to post after making dinner. oops. Don’t worry, I already formatted eight so this won’t happen again next week) Also, also... Fennec and Boba are fun to write :)

*this story will regularly be using words in Mando’a. for a good list of references click here.*

Summary: The Mandalorian makes the journey back to Tatooine to take care of some things back at the covert after his run in with Navina on Nevarro. More is revealed about the goings on in the upper levels of Boba Fett’s complex, we learn what he and Fennec are up to, as well as a little more about how things are run below. And we finally hear what Bo-Katan has been itching to tell him.

Warnings: descriptions of violence, death, talk of manipulating kids (if you’re unsure feel free to ask)

Word Count: 5.6k

Tatooine.

The suns were sinking into the Dune Sea by the time he pulled Peli’s rental speeder into one of the hidden bays at the rocky base of Fett’s palace complex. There were three other occupied spaces, leaving just the one to his left empty. A quick scan of the vehicles that were there told him immediately who wasn’t. Fennec. Hers was the easiest to recognize. She had painted it a heavy matte black, accented with a weblike design of crisscrossing red lines. It wasn’t inconspicuous but she didn’t want or need it to be. If one of her targets saw her speeder and made the connection, it was already too late for them to turn and run. She liked knowing that they felt some modicum of fear or at the very least panic in the seconds before she struck, and he couldn’t blame her. They had it coming.

For too long the scum that she and Boba were after had run nefarious crime rings that preyed on scared, young kids with nowhere else in the galaxy to turn. It was how they’d both ended up in their line of work, Boba swept into a life of violent instability in the aftermath of his father’s death, and Fennec developing a kind of admiration and a misplaced feeling of owing her employers for rescuing her from being sold to a brothel as a child. The slime had wasted no time in manipulating her, taking that gratitude and twisting it into something ugly and sinister, crafting her into a sniper, a trained, leashed killer, trading one horrible outcome for another. By the time she realized how trapped she truly was, the price on her own head had climbed so high it had very nearly gotten her killed.

He winced thinking back to when he’d found her crumpled form in the sand. His thoughts had flashed so quickly to Grogu, to getting back to where he was and ensuring his safety, that he had only given Fennec a cursory check for any signs of life. Had Fett not been tracking the Mandalorian in search of his father’s armor, the woman would have died there in the desert. But the grizzled wanderer had found her, and saving the assassin from the brink of oblivion had given both of them a second chance. Fennec had been freed from the things that held her feet to the flames, and Boba had been given a reason to care for someone other than himself. He may have never been in any real peril on Tatooine- Not even in that pit if how I’ve seen him fight is any indication of how he handled that Sarlacc- but two souls were saved that day regardless. Though they worked as a pair and while Fennec deferred to Fett at first, she gave him her loyalty because she chose to, not because she was made to, and he gave her his respect because she had proven herself to be just as resilient as he was.

Now, having taken the palace from the Hutt crime family and rooted out their presence on the planet, the two child killers turned vigilantes had started working on the galaxy’s other crime rings. Their sights were currently set on the Black Sun syndicate, and they had been working on picking away at one of their strongholds in Ord Mantell City, dispatching those who gave them no new information immediately, and freezing and bringing anyone who might have something useful to share back to the complex on Tatooine. Karga and the Bounty Hunter’s Guild on Nevarro had even been helping them, and more than a handful of the Mandalorians from the new covert had offered their assistance as a way to repay Boba and Fennec for providing them the space. Yes, they were taking the law into their own hands, but he had seen time and again how easily the New Republic could be made to look the other way, so he had no personal or moral objections to what they were doing.

And so far they had brought three children under the age of thirteen back to the covert. The kids were being held captive as leverage so that the Black Sun leaders could keep control over their parents, often threatening them with things unspeakable should they refuse to do what their bosses required of them. The youngest was no more than five. After they’d been fed and tended to by the Healer and given a place to rest in the tunnels below, Woves one of the Mandalorians he’d first met on Trask, had set out to get in touch with the guardians of the rescued children. Since joining the cause to unite the clans, Axe had become increasingly interested in participating in educating and caring for the covert’s children, even assisting the Instructor in teaching new sparring techniques or sharing the perspective of someone who had grown up on Mandalore when it came to more cultural or historical lessons. Though he’d tried to make contact multiple times using the information that he had on the children- only their names and home planets- just the two older boys had been claimed by living relatives.

The smallest, a girl barely reaching the top of Woves’ boot, didn’t seem to have anyone anywhere. Though he continued to try to locate the child’s kin, everyone knew it was only a matter of time before the Armorer was presiding over the gai bal manda, the man who had once been one of Bo-Katan’s most feared fighters kneeling in front of the entire Tribe and swearing to protect and raise the child as a warrior, as a member of his clan. As his own.

Ni kyr'tayl gai sa'ad. I know your name as my child. Grogu.

He felt a tug in his chest, just behind his rib cage as he dismounted the speeder, those big round eyes blinking at him from beneath that wrinkled green forehead and those over large ears filling his thoughts before he could guard himself. With a sigh, he wished for what could have been the hundredth time that he had been given the chance to take that vow, swear those words… Raise my son.

Slinging his bag across his body and ensuring that the Darksaber’s hilt was clipped firmly to his belt with one hand, the other went to one of the leather pouches at his waist. Without needing to look, he pulled the small silver ball from its designated spot, spinning it twice between his thumb, index and middle fingers. We’ll see each other again. I promise. The metal sphere slipped smoothly in his gloved grasp, the object giving him comfort. It was something tangible, a link to the thing he carried in his heart for the child that had upended his entire world. Bo-Katan might understand Woves’ choice if she… He let out another breath and tucked the ball away. But all she can see is Mandalore.

The sharp-eyed, orange- haired heiress was not too keen on her former companion’s sudden calling towards child rearing, but swearing an adoption vow, promising to care for a foundling, was such an integral part of Mandalorian beliefs, of The Way, that she knew better than to try to talk him out of it. She would lose any credibility that she had as a leader if any of the others caught wind of that. She still had Reeves, and Hast, one of the few that had made it off of Nevarro, had also volunteered to help her search for other hidden coverts and lone stragglers in the far reaches of the Outer Rim, on the quiet, often overlooked planets in the Mid Rim, in the corrupt and crowded cities of the Core Worlds. And if she wanted more help I’m sure there are others who would go.

He cringed, tilting his chin down to glance at the innocuous looking object knocking against the beskar tasset covering his left thigh with every step towards the tunnels he took. If she wanted, I could… He reached across his body to wrap his hand around the sword's grip. It still felt strange. Unnatural. I could order others to join her mission. Dropping it as soon as the thought crossed his mind, it hit the beskar beneath it with a loud clang that echoed in the dark passages that connected the speeder bay to the main hall. Leadership in a fight, in a battle, in negotiations, while all still outside of what he would have chosen for himself, were things that he could get his head around. But making demands? Setting punishments and enforcing laws? It was the things that ran in that vein of what it meant to be the Mand’alor that gave him the most pause now that the Armorer had assuaged some of his other doubts regarding the title that had been thrust upon him, unwanted.

Thing after thing. Loss after loss. Responsibility after responsibility. That had been his life for nearly four decades, and it didn’t seem like his burdens would be getting lighter any time soon. For the first time since he left Nevarro two days before, he thought of the woman he’d run into there, whose stolen vambraces he was bringing back to be reforged. Navina. Though he’d only spent a few hours with her he had picked up the impression that difficult trials and heavy hardships followed her wherever she went, too. He wondered if that was uniquely Mandalorian, or if there were others who understood the same level of loneliness that sometimes came when such strength was constantly required of a being. She had spoken of her clan; of losing her mother and being separated from her father and the foundling that her family had taken in, not knowing after all that time if they were still alive. He knew the odds and she seemed clever enough to know them, too, and though he had sympathy for her, it also made him feel less like he was alone in struggling to carry an ungainly load. I have to remember to ask the others about her father… Harsa. That was the name.

There were several things he had to do on this trip, asking about Navina’s family name just the latest addition to the list. After promising the Armorer on his last visit that he would begin training with the Darksaber, he knew that he would be spending at least two sessions with the Weapons Master, learning how to wield the legendary black blade. We’ll start with the beskad, though. He was firm in that and he knew that no one would argue with him. He wanted to check in with Fett, make sure that the arrangement was still working and that the man didn’t need anything from him. He had no doubt though, that if the man running things topside had any issues, he wouldn’t hold them back, not hesitating to contact the Mandalorian directly to launch his complaints. His directness was one of the things that he liked most about Boba, and one of the reasons that he had been so quick to trust him. I hope he’s free now. I’d rather start there then…

The last thing that he absolutely could not leave the planet without doing, was meeting with Bo-Katan for a debrief on the recruiting efforts and to begin discussing tactics for reclaiming their ancestral homeland. Hers, anyway. She wasn’t happy that he had put it off for as long as he had, but again, he knew that she wouldn’t voice her displeasure for fear of the optics of disagreeing with the Mand’alor. Politics. His top lip curled at the thought that he would have to get good at knowing how to keep people on his side, even when he knew that their endgames were slightly out of alignment with his. Maybe she’s in the sparring hall now. He knew that she spent hours training with Reeves and Hast whenever she came back to the covert, and he hoped that was where she was now.

If he was being entirely honest, something about her still didn’t sit well with him, but he knew that he didn’t have to like everyone to work with them.

Striding the last few steps through the winding passage, he finally reached the plain stone archway, a circular splotch of light from one of the torches visible on the other side of it. Two helmeted Mandalorians stood guard, but moved aside as soon as they saw the signet on his shoulder and the Darksaber on his belt.

“Olarom yaim, Mand’alor.” The shorter of the two spoke with a nod, welcoming him home in a voice that cracked too adolescently for the modulator in the newly sworn fighter’s helmet to hide. A kid. He recalled the first few years after he’d finished his required training in the Fighting Corps, the cockiness, the harsh lessons that no amount of studying or practicing in the sparring hall could prepare him for. He’s just a kid.

It was different though, the way that Mandalorians allowed Tribe members to swear additional oaths inducting them into the elite group of warriors at seventeen, than what the syndicates did, how they inducted their young members. We learn and train our whole lives for it. Understand what we’re agreeing to. Not like… He swallowed a sudden spike of rage at the thought that the quiet, innocent child that was likely still latched to Woves’ right leg would have otherwise ended up raised to be a mercenary -or worse- for the Black Sun. But she won’t now.

“Thank you,” he responded to the young guard cursing himself for forgetting the Mando’a translation. I need to do better with that. Again he felt his thoughts backtracking to Navina and the way that he’d heard several Mando’a words roll easily off of her tongue. Maybe she can… when we meet again in a few weeks, maybe she can help me with… He sighed. There was a long list of things he needed to talk to her about when he saw her next, just like the list of things that awaited him at the top of the staircase he was currently climbing. He wanted to know more about her pendant, about the seam they had found in the metal that hinted at a modification that was made well after the piece had been crafted that would allow the Mythosaur to hold the peculiar stone that shone purple. He wanted to know more about what had prompted her family to leave Concordia, why they were running and why they’d had to separate. He wanted to know anything that he could from her and any other Mandalorians he encountered that might help him be the Mand’alor that the young guardsman and everyone else in the covert seemed to think that he was.

As soon as he ascended the last few steps though, his thoughts were interrupted by a heavy arm falling around his shoulder. “Still in one piece then, Mand’alor?”

Boba Fett’s gruff, gravely voice was oddly comforting, and he knew that he was likely one of maybe two people who thought that. He returned the one armed thunk that he supposed the other man took for a hug. “Seems that way.” The man’s heavily scarred face pulled up into a jagged looking grin, the expression almost jarring on such a serious visage, but then a rumbling chuckle came out and took the smile with it, leaving his features in their natural scowl. “Everything alright here?”

The Mandalorian followed Fett through the large main hall, past the stone slab throne that he only occupied when passing judgement on those that he and Fennec brought back once any useful information could be wrung from them, and through to the long table that had been brought in for strategy meetings and sharing information with the Bounty Hunter’s Guild and others who agreed to offer help. “Everything’s fine,” he said with a grunt, gesturing flippantly with one hand, pulling a chair out from the table with the other. “The Princess wasn’t too thrilled when she found out she’d have to wait for you, but tell me, Mandalorian, is that woman ever truly happy about anything?”

He had never so much as seen her smile. Pulling out a chair of his own, he simply shrugged. It seemed unlikely. “I’ll meet with her as soon as we’re through here.” Fett nodded. “I had… urgent business on Nevarro.”

“Urgent?” One eyebrow rose on the man’s forehead.

“Yes, I met another Mandalorian, only she was,” he tilted his head to the side as the image of Navina’s silver-gray eyes staring at him through her shattered visor flashed in his mind. “Different.”

Boba answered with another gruff chuckle as he reached for the jug of spotchka that was never too far away. “Different, was she?” He took a long pull, the remnants of his teasing laugh still there when he lowered the jug and swiped the back of his free hand across his mouth.

What? No, that’s- He leaned forward, elbows on the stone surface as he made a quick slicing motion with one hand. “No. That’s not what I meant.”

It wasn’t. But as he dropped his palms back to the tabletop, he could recall the way it felt when he’d gripped her biceps, shaking her from her dreams. He had been concerned that she would hurt herself or more inconveniently, break one of the controls in the cockpit with the way she was thrashing in her sleep. But what he remembered now, hands flat before him, was how it felt to make contact with her skin, even if it was just through the thick padding of his gloves. He pressed his thumb down hard on the table like he had pressed it into the crease of her bent arm, squeezing the muscle there to get her attention. She felt strong and warm and solid and he almost held onto her for too long, caught up in the feel of another body beneath his hands. That isn’t what I meant.

He cleared his throat and went on. “She hasn’t sworn the Creed, but she carries out the traditions, she can fight, knows things about Mandalorian history-“ he looked up at the man across from him, Fett abandoning his ribbing to regard the Mandalorian seriously. “She had a helmet and a dagger made of pure beskar.”

“And you’re sure she’s not a thief?”

Technically she is. But she didn’t steal the helmet or the kal. She didn’t steal the pendant. “They belonged to her parents.” He explained what the woman had told him about how her family had been split up- how she had known for a fact that her mother had been killed, but that since it had been years since she’d seen her father or the other child in her family, she had no way of knowing if they were still alive. “She… she asked me to spread word here at the covert, in case anyone knows where to find her father. Harsa. His name is Gavil Harsa.”

Boba shrugged. “Don’t know any Harsa. But then, I’m no Mandalorian either. Your different girl and I have that in common.”

She’s not my-

But before he could protest what had just been said, voices from the same entrance he had come through caught his and Boba’s attention, the other man standing as Fennec’s dry, smirking tone could be heard greeting the guard at the door. “You’re back.” He stated, opening his arms wide, his voice booming across the otherwise empty space. “What took so long?” He dropped his arms as Fennec maneuvered a carbonite block through the doorway.

She cocked her head in the direction of the hardened, frozen slab containing what could have been any number of humanoid species, their features completely indiscernible but clearly contorted in terror. “Ixon here didn’t want to come quietly.” She turned to pull the block the rest of the way through, the unit hovering weightless and only needing her guidance for direction. “It was actually quite a workout.” She grinned. “For him.” Fett let out another gravelly laugh as Fennec turned her attention to the Mandalorian. “Mando,” she smiled and used one hand to push her long black braid behind her. “Good to see you.”

“Fennec,” he nodded a greeting. “You’ve been busy, I see.”

“Nothing for the Mand’alor to worry about,” she winked, shoving the block containing Ixon more roughly than necessary. “Just dealing with the trash.” She winked as she walked through, waving off Boba when he tried to assist her. “I’ll handle this one on my own.” She patted the side of the unit with an almost malicious gleam in her dark eyes. “It’s personal.”

“I’d pity him if he weren’t walking slime,” Boba offered her the spotchka jug but she declined with a flick of her wrist.

“He might not be walking when I’m done.” She gave the block another shove towards a door on the other side of the large room, her lips lifting in a quick snarl. “See you around, Mando,” she called over her shoulder, disappearing with Ixon, not waiting for a response.

“They say if you love your job you never work a day in your life,” he clapped a large meaty palm on the Mandalorian’s arm. “And Shand loves her new job.” That much is obvious. “Speaking of jobs, Mand’alor,” he gestured with his jug towards another set of stairs that led to the tunnels that the covert was using, the blue liquid sloshing gently as he did. “I’m sure yours is calling.”

He stiffened. “Yes.”

The man, gnarled by life and the things that had tried to drag him from it, set the jug down then. “Taking that planet back… well, you know what I think there.” I do. From first mention, he had not held back his opinion of the mission. “But bringing this many Mandalorians together under one roof? And they haven’t killed each other yet? I know you didn’t ask for this but,” he narrowed his eyes. “That’s no small feat.”

It was as close to true praise as Boba Fett had likely ever bestowed upon anyone, and he knew that. It was also the truth. He thanked the man and crossed the room to yet another doorway that led to a different set of stairs. This time though, as he shifted the bag on his shoulder, the metal pieces inside clanging together, he did not stop on the landing and wait to pass off the reclaimed beskar to a middleman. This time, he continued down the second set that brought him to the forge.

It was quiet, the Armorer taking a rare break from her unending task of providing the best protection and defenses that she could for her people. As a child it was easy for him to forget that there was a human beneath that pointed gold helmet. Her understated power, the sparks that flew frantically from her hammer, the ability she possessed to craft such stunning objects all contributed to the almost mythological status that he and the other small children regarded her with. He still admired and respected her and held her in higher esteem than anyone else in the covert, he knew that even the Armorer needed to eat, needed rest, needed to give her own ears a reprieve from the ringing of her tools battering hot metal.

Entering the room for the first time since the covert relocated to Tatooine, he gave himself time to take the space in. Slowly turning his head he scanned over the work table, all of the tools neatly arrayed, each one clean and sharp and shining, each one a weapon in its own right. The forge itself was unlit, the mouth that usually spat fire simply open in a gaping yawn, but as he ran his hand over it he felt the residual heat that never completely faded. He wondered if what was left of the forge back on Nevarro still retained any warmth.

Drawing his hand back, he stepped over to the small table that the Armorer used for meeting with the recipients of her work. Reaching into his bag, he took the vambraces that Navina had surrendered and set them on the surface between the two empty stools, leaving them for when the Armorer returned to her duty. She’ll know what to do. And where they came from. He would return to the forge the next morning to speak with her in more detail about the items’ provenance, and also to spread Navina’s family name to the member of the Tribe who was most likely to know it. He gave the room one last scan, slowly turning his head so that he could see it all through the eyeline of his visor, then left, continuing on with his own list of responsibilities.

A handful of the covert’s children, some in the second hand helmets of the older ones, others belonging to clans that didn’t cover their faces at all times displaying smudges of dirt across round cheeks, were gathered in the widest portion of the hall. Engaged in some game that he likely played himself at that age, they shrieked and laughed and jumped. The kid would love it here. He could easily picture Grogu waddling into the group of young Mandalorians and fitting in without a problem, and he hoped that he had other children to be a child with while he underwent his Jedi training.

Continuing on and following the fork to the left, he headed next for the sparring hall. Unlike the forge, it was not empty. He could already hear the sound of practice staffs clashing, and the Instructor’s voice calling out advice to his trainees. One of the fighters grunted as they lunged or swung, and he knew right away from the sound that it was Bo-Katan, the heavy footsteps he heard suggesting that she was training with Hast.

Since she was occupied at present, he stopped at the door beside the entrance to the sparring hall to arrange sessions with the Weapons Master. The man seemed pleased that the Mand’alor was ready to start working with the beskad in preparation for the Darksaber, and gave him his choice of available times for one on one training. Slating himself for three instead of the two he had planned on, he thanked the man and, with nothing left to do to push it off any longer, he entered the sparring hall and prepared to speak with Bo-Katan.

She was still locked in a battle with Hast, the hulking man nearly twice her size but incredibly nimble for his weight and width. Blocking a swing of her opponent’s staff, the helmetless woman gritted her teeth and gripped her own weapon, holding it horizontally in front of her chest to take the force of the blow. Her feet slid back but she dug them in and gave a strong shove. Staffs still connected, the push set Hast off his balance just enough for her to turn the staff and whip it down and behind the man as he tried to regain his footing. In a sweeping blur she used it to take his legs out from under him, and he fell hard to the ground. Following all the way through to the finishing position, Bo-Katan flipped her staff around, jabbing it a few inches from Hast’s helmet, signifying her victory.

It was impressive, but the Mandalorian knew that she was a skilled fighter, having seen her in live battle. She extended a hand to help Hast up, then turned towards the entrance. “You’re here.” It sounded almost skeptical, and he noticed the tiny twitch of her brow, hardly any sweat beading there after her workout. “Back from your,” she passed the staff behind her to Hast who took both of them back to the wall, the Instructor stowing them on their pegs. “From your urgent business?”

He’d been expecting her to be upset, so the bite in her tone wasn’t a shock. “Yes.” He answered simply, not willing to allow her annoyance to spark his own. “I’m ready to discuss plans with you.”

Her eyes narrowed, lips pressed together in a thin line as though that was the only thing keeping her frustration in. She swallowed, then let out a short breath and gestured toward the door. “Shall we, then?”

The Mandalorian nodded and once she’d thanked the Instructor and Hast for the session, she followed him out into the hallway, the two heading for one of the smaller halls that had been designated for closed door meetings. “Thank you, for your patience.” He knew that she hadn’t been patient, but that she wanted it to seem like she had. “I had things to tend to, but I’ll be here for about two weeks, and I,” he opened the door to the room, letting her in before him and then closing it after he entered. Letting out a small sigh that he knew she wouldn’t be able to hear, he continued. “Aside from training with the Weapons Master I can spend as much time as necessary working with you.”

Her cheek jumped as she gave a quick smile that was more of a forced smirk. “Well, that’s great news.” Pulling out a chair, she gestured for him to do the same, which he did. “Because we have a lot to discuss.”

She went on to tell him that she, Hast and Koska Reeves had come back with ten adult Mandalorians from a covert located in the Mid Rim, and four children that had been part of their clans. There were a few that had chosen not to come back to Tatooine, but he and the others had all agreed that no one would be forced into joining them, that it was a decision only they could make for themselves. Still, adding fourteen to the Tribe in just one trip was something of note. For most of his life he had thought that his kind were far closer to extinction than they were. It was encouraging to see their numbers grow after so much time spent thinking that they were alone, and he hoped it gave the others that joined them there that same feeling of hope. That even if the quest to take back Mandalore were to fail, they would still have a safe place there where they didn’t have to hide in the shadows and only gather in groups of twenty or fewer. At least they were united now. At least they had a home.

She went on to tell him about the old rebel base they had heard about on the remains of Concord Dawn, a planet in the Mandalore System that had all but been destroyed in the centuries of warfare that plagued that portion of the galaxy. Largely uninhabitable, and missing nearly a third of its mass, the planet had been abandoned ages ago. But it’s proximity to Mandalore made it a good candidate to set up a base of their own once the battle for their planet began. She outlined what would be needed in terms of weapons, fortifications and troops, and stated that once they had acquired and allotted the required supplies, she would like to accompany him on a trip to Concord Dawn so that he could see it for himself before the base was established.

Agreeing to all of this, he listened as she laid out her plans for obtaining what was needed, giving her another two hours of his time before exhaustion started setting in so heavily that he wouldn’t have been able to listen to much more even if it was the most interesting topic in the universe. Assuring her that they could pick up where they left off the next morning, he excused himself from the small room and headed for the chamber that he always slept in when he was at the covert.

He didn’t know why, but as he removed his helmet he thought again of the woman he met on Nevarro, and how he was about to begin a war to take back her home planet. Unbuckling the rest of his armor piece by piece and laying it out to be polished and cleaned, he wondered if she would ever go back to the place she was born once they had won it back, or if their own traditions would make her feel unwelcome there. Frowning, he hoped that wouldn’t be the case, that he would help build the kind of society that welcomed anyone who was an ally, whether or not they swore an oath. Would she take the creed? Pulling the breastplate cuirass over his head, he wondered if it was even something she would want to do. She said she wasn’t given the chance… what if she was?

Shaking his head to clear her from his thoughts, he finished taking care of his armor for the evening, focusing on the lightness in his limbs that came from removing all that weight, and sunk into the mattress, finding sleep as soon as his eyes closed.

But the head shake hadn’t cleared her completely, his dreams tinged with purple light and the echo of her name.

Thank you for reading! Please feel free to let me know if you would like to be added to or removed from the tags! :)

tags: @something-tofightfor @alraedesigns @pheedraws @valkblue @malionnes @gollyderek

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sebastianshaw · 4 years ago

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Let's go wide and predictable... Tell me about the different WoD incarnations for Shaw. :>

OK SO First thing I am glad you are also a nerd for this so I don’t don’t to explain all these terms. Secondly wow I need to be better about tagging/organizing, I couldn’t find all the other posts on this I was SURE I wrote. SO HERE’S A BIG FAT POST, RIP YOUR EYES

VAMPIRE Lasombra: This is the clan I typically default to in answers for him AS YOU HAVE NOTICED. I mean, they’re dark aristocrats who are all about Social Darwinish, preying on the weak, and the strong reigning. They primarily enforce this subtly through political games, but they have NO PROBLEM throwing an elegant Potence-backed punch. While one would think that these proud predators demanding sniveling obedience---and one would, in a way, be right---they certainly don’t RESPECT it, and it can even induce violent rage in them. Fits Shaw to a T. Sure, the Catholicism/Church control and Spanish origins and attraction to the sea and Abyss mysticism aren’t for him, but hey, he fits the outlook of the Clan perfectly aside from the religious aspects, and no one fits EVERY stereotype of a clan anyway. Most Lasombra are Sabbat, and he could be too, but he would be in it for personal power, not true belief in being the Sword of Caine. I can equally easily see him going antitribu for the political power and stability of the Camarilla. My other choices for him are VENTURE which is pretty obvious, but also Gangrel, which sounds counterintuitive but I HAVE A REALLY GOOD ARGUEMENT FOR IT! WEREWOLF Shadow Lord. Total Shadow Lord for pretty much all the same reasons as Lasombra. Like just LOOK AT THIS QUOTE: “ The Shadow Lords are a fictional tribe of Garou (werewolves) in White Wolf Game Studio’s Werewolf: The Apocalypse role-playing game. […] The Shadow Lords’ lives are like a daily game of chess and a constant struggle for power […] Shadow Lords respect power and condemn weakness, any cub who’s not strong enough in their eyes is banished from the tribe [… ] None of the other tribes like them very much, or at all, but even the ones who hate them most don’t question their ability to get things done. […] perhaps the largest camp, the Lords of the Summit tend to be the stereotypical Shadow Lords - power-hungry, manipulative, ambitious, and arrogant. This by no means makes them less dangerous foes.” And like. . . .they focus on political and intellectual power FIRST, and that sort of character is typically physically weak. But as with the Lasombra, nope, the Shadow Lords had bodily power too; they’re described as looking more like over-muscled pit bulls in lupine form than wolves. So....yeah, that’s perfect. Because Shaw does fight “smart” first, he ideally never touches his opponent, but when he has to? BOY CAN HE PULVERIZE. So, Shadow Lord Shaw is a Homid, probably an Ahroun but maybe a Philodox, and he has a lot of Glass Walkers following him as well as fellow Shadow Lords; he finds great use in their technological talents and ability to adapt to an urban environment and OWN it (rather than just SURVIVE in its fringes like a Bone Gnawer, as he sees it) and they organize themselves in a corporate-like structure where he takes a natural lead. While the Shadow Lords are stereotypically/traditionally Eastern European, they can be of any race today. Shaw’s dad is English, but since we never see his mom in canon, for this version I’m saying his mom was a great big Eastern European Shadow Lord, and that’s why he never knew her, because the Garou aren’t typically raising their own young. He’s just. . . .big brutal wolf boy. And has like a billion puppies/Kinfolk kids. I DREW HIM FERA Ok, so I picked a BUNCH of Fera for Shaw, and you know why? I could. Literally just because I could. I don’t have a DM to tell me no! I even picked extinct ones, BECAUSE I WANTED TO! Cat-wise, I like him as a Khan or a Khara. Are the Khara extinct? Yes. Do they really suit him, the way they’re described less as warriors and more just secret-gatherers? Not at all. I picked them because I just like the idea of him turning into a massive, massive black smilodon. Because I think it’s cool and I don’t have to respect canon here. He can be the last of the Khara and not fit them at all if I say so. And hey, he LOOKS like a prehistoric man already! As for the Khan. . . .of the extant Bastet, the Simba and Khan fit him best. And if I am being honest? The Simba probably are a better fit for him. And I’m fine with that. I’m fine with Shaw as a big ol werelion with a black mane. But I also just really, really like the Khan. And as I have made clear, I am running this show. So my first choice for him that isn’t a Shadow Lord, is a Khan. They’re most typically Indian, Chinese, or (due to breeding with colonizers in India) English, so he could be one of the English Khan, and hey, fighting the Wyrm gives him a good outlet for. . . himself. Their human forms are also typically tall and HUGE, upwards of 300 lbs, and they’ve sired some of the most beautiful kittens and powerful bloodlines. T “ The Simba may declare themselves nobility, but the weretigers fit the title. Regal hunters and warriors, these Bastet evoke the respect the lions demand. From the snowy mountains of Asia to the cities of India, the weretigers hunt the spawn of Asura and defend the last of their Kin. They’re solid, dependable, smart and strong. Their weaknesses, such as they are, come from being too trusting or too sure of themselves. Khan are straightforward and action-oriented, not clever schemers. Whatever a Khan does, he does full-tilt — fighting, romancing, hunting, studying, even contemplating. These Bastet throw themselves into all tasks with vigor and passion, and their bodies, in any form, bristle with vitality. Most Khan love company; though few of them can stand the presence of another of their kind for long, they often enjoy companions. And who would deny a tiger’s friendship? It’s said the Khan were brought forth to battle demons, and many of them take that charge literally. Vampires, Asura and fomori have few enemies more relentless than a tiger. Perhaps that’s why the Khan have been brought to the verge of extinction: They made too many of the wrong kind of enemies.” “ The tribe’s traditional cultures stress honor and obedience. The treachery of Nagda was worsened by the stain it put on the tigers’ pride. While solitary in nature, most Khan establish protectorates where they defend a given family or land against corruption. The fact that “defense” occasionally includes killing certain people doesn’t detract from the tribal purpose. The Kahn were created to war against demons. Those who court the darkness must die “ “ While many Khan tend to be bad-tempered and aggressive, others love company of all kinds (and are powerful enough to demand respect). “ So, is that ALL Shaw? No. He’d be a particularly nasty, scheming Khan, in fact, a little unusual for his breed. But that’s hardly unheard of. After all, the famous English Khan named Lord Clouster “had cobras for a heart; he tossed his own kuasha beneath the wheels of a train, fed his wife to a suttee fire by pretending to be dead, then killed his children when he found they did not carry the Changing Touch.” And another Khan, the Indian sultan Nagda, got into a feud with another Khan and “ taken over by his rage, the Sultan Nagda betrayed his race and used a tribal secret. During an eclipse, his assassins struck all over Asia, slaying nearly 100 Khan and many Kinfolk outright.” So, Khan can be bad too. But not as bad as the Simba. “ “The Lords of Sunlight.” That’s what they call themselves. Like the blazing mane around the heads of their kings, werelions liken themselves to the sun. All things have a place and an order and rebels must be reminded of this fact. The real fact, of course, is that the other tribes dislike the lions; the Simba may call themselves “Lords of Sunlight,” but many other cats give them another name: “The Dark Kings,” an unflattering comparison to the Khan. The Simba aren’t villains; they’re magnificent lords, slayers of demons. Things are simply out of order. When the balance is restored, when the humans know their place and the cities become graveyards, the lions will be proven right. The demons of the modern age can be traced to the end of the Impergium and the laxity of the Changing Breeds. The Simba mean to put things in order, and if that requires bloodshed, so be it. Warfare is the sport of kings” “ Werelions value strength and order. Despite their bloody reputation, Simba adore their loved ones, and watch their Kinolk closely. Children and kittens are raised within the pride and must constantly prove themselves to survive. “ “ Each pride has one Mtolo (“father”), or dominant male, and several Kirii (“wives”) and Anwana (“young hunters”). Small prides defer to larger ones, and may owe allegiance to a Chakuva (“High King”) like Black Tooth. “ So, Simba are very patriarchal, very hierarchal, and want to run everyone else and feel they’re entitled to do so by birthright, and the more I talk the LESS it sounds like Shaw actually? Like don’t get me wrong, he’s proud and power-hungry AS YOU KNOW, but what sets him apart from Apocalypse or Magneto or Xavier is that Shaw has never sought to have mutantkind follow him. He has his own ideologies, but he has never sought to lead others or enforce it on them. So really, the Simba mentality of “we should be in charge because it’s us” DOESN’T work for him, nor does the idea of being entitled to do so, as Shaw’s “power first” mentality is all about EARNING your position, not deserving it automatically. It’s all very Fabian though! So I’ll leave that here as a bonus for you instead of going back and deleting it lol. yEAH HE’S A BAD KHAN, BASICALLY And his Pyrio, no matter what cat type he is, would be Night. Each Bastet has a “Pyrio” meaning a classification of their general personality and what fields they’re likely to pursue and be talented in. “Like the Dark Father Cahlash, the favor of the Night indicates a sinister or hidden nature. Most Bastet with this Pryio tend to withdraw from others, concentrating on their own business unless interrupted. Although they might not be actively malignant, they have short tempers and quiet ways, and fiercely guard their privacy. Night Bastet prefer occupations such as assassin, scholar, scientist and dark mystic. In the wilderness, the Night cats are hidden hunters and man-eaters, with nasty dispositions and an eerie reputations. These are the cats whose deeds are told around campfires for years to come. If you’ve got a disposition toward the Night, activities that cause others discomfort, reinforce your private space or protect some valuable secret from outsiders can refresh your Willpower.” So yeah. Shaw is a night kitty. Rats are not the type that fit him the MOST, but I drew him as a RATKIN WARRIOR anyway. Because rats. Also while I drew him as a Warrior, he could also be an Engineer or a Plague Lord (specifically sylphyllis; every Plague Lord contracts with a disease spirit and embodies its most horrific symptoms and I just love the idea of this hideous terrifying syph-ridden Shaw) And hey, he can get into the “culling humanity” and “survive so that you may breed” deal! Most wererats also have very little kindness towards the weak either, despite being the underdogs of the Fera themselves. Likewise, hyenas aren’t the breed that fit him the most but I kinda dig the idea of him as an Ajaba? Their role was choosers of the slain, tasked with culling the sick, dying, and unfit. They were called rainmakers because of the tears their task brought to others, and they did not spare even their own. Then, the Simba came to their lands, and enacted genocide against them. They left Africa and spread across the globe, now breeding indiscriminately to survive and can be any race. What holds them together now first isn’t any duty, but the desire to simply stay alive. And both those things---culling weakness, and being knocked off his pedestal and now forced to fight for scraps in the shadows to survive---seem fitting for Shaw. The philosophy is obviously what he’s always had, and the degraded position reflects where he currently is in canon. He’s not usually the underdog, but he is here---but doubtlessly a brutal one, the Fera equivalent of a gang leader, recruiting Also they’re matriarchal and I kinda like the idea of him having to deal with that, as....that kind of fits too? Shaw was the only MAN of note in the Hellfire Club. All the other most iconic, powerful, threatening members were women, and Shaw’s never really had a chance (or tried to fuck with) any of them. He’s USED to being around a ton of badass ladies who are calling the shots, that’s just TUESDAY for him. Finally---FINALLY-- I could see him as the odd human-born Rokea. A Great White, of course. Again, it was probably his mother who was the Fera, some monstrous creature who came on land and mated with his human father, only to spawn this boy while still out of the water. All Rokea are ugly in their human state, but Shaw looks better than most due to being born on land and as a human, and he is also able to move through---and thrive---in human society. Since he is seen as a Betweener---one of the Rokea who “betrays” the Sea by living on land instead---stepping into what should be his natural habitat is always risky for him, as other Rokea WILL kill Betweeners on sight. And the single-minded nature of sharks leaves little room for explaining oneself. Oh did I say finally SURPRISE I HAVE ONE MORE. The peaceful, matchmaking, extinct Apis don’t really fit SHAW aT ALL, and they’re EXTINCT, but I love the idea of him turning into a HUGE BLACK BULL. So here’s my explanation. The deal with the Apis is that when their numbers reached the single digits, a last handful of young Apis called Last Hope went into the Deep Umbra and haven’t been seen since. The “hook” in the 20th anniversary Changing Breeds book for their return is that maybe they finally came out the Umbra and back to the physical world. My idea is that he and HAVEN are mebers of Last Hope who have re-emerged in modern times to bring back their kind---something that rests entirely on SHAW’S shoulders, since Haven’s womb was cursed by the Wyrm. So it’s up to him to just breed with as many women and cows as possible. So he’s got an excuse! And as for why he’s so un-Apis, my explanation is that the trauma of their species being wiped out and the time that was allowed to fester in them during their long sleep in the Deep Umbra, drove Haven and Shaw to two extremes of Apis behavior. Haven took on the gentle caretaker side to the extreme, becoming so pacifistic she can’t fight or defend herself. Shaw went the other end, becoming so enraged and resentful that he’s become more like a bloodthirsty predator himself. Eventually, they both fall to madness after re-emerging, but in the opposite ways that everyone expect. It’s the sweet gentle Haven who ends up Frenzying other of control in a berserker rage, rampaging across the city in massive bovine form, causing untold death and destruction until she’s put down. . . .while the cruel violent Shaw falls to a “cow version of Harano” sinking into a depression so profound he goes catatonic up until Haven’s own loss of sanity, at which point he throws himself on her horn. The story ends with the last of the Apis truly dead, but with a new hope for the species living on in Shaw’s children, who are showing signs of being Kinfolk or Apis themselves.

#world of darkness #vampire the masquerade #werewolf the apocalypse #wod #wta #vtm #episomalvector

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sparky-is-spiders · 4 years ago

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So. About that PoT and OotS Rewrite...

This is that PoT OotS rewrite I was talkin’ about earlier. Some stuff has changed.

I’ma start with Lionblaze, because I find the concept for his character to be the most interesting.

Lionblaze: From a young age, Lionblaze is kinda a prodigy. He’s an excellent fighter and hunter and everybody is convinced that he’s gonna be a great warrior, maybe even deputy. He IS the son of the current deputy and the grandson of the current leader, after all. When the Clan hears about the prophecy from Jayfeather, Lionblaze and everybody else is so certain that he’ll play a starring role in it. He hasn’t discovered his powers yet, the way Jayfeather and Hollyleaf have, but he’s convinced that they’ll reveal themselves. It’ll happen annny day now, he’s sure of it.

But he never gets any powers. Sure, he’s a skilled warrior, but it’s pretty obvious that that’s all he’ll ever be. He manages to hold out hope until he’s assigned Dovepaw as his apprentice. Dovepaw, who can read moods so easily. She appears in his dreams one day, and that’s when he realizes: he isn’t anything special, and he never was. He was always just another warrior, while Jayfeather and Hollyleaf keep moving on ahead. He becomes distant from his siblings and clanmates, and struggles to mentor the cat who took his place and the powers that were supposed to be his. This is when he’s recruited to the Dark Forest. Soon, he realizes what their plans are (more on those later), and he and Ivypaw team up to become spies and maybe sabatoge their plans before its too late. They tell their siblings everything they know, and the bridges that Lionblaze burned start to mend. He realizes that, even without powers, he’s still important, and he can still play a role in stopping the Dark Forest.

Jayfeather: Jayfeather is distant from everyone and always has been. He can sometimes be seen talking to cats that aren’t there, and he can predict some events with startling accuracy. Every time he sleeps, he hears thousands of different prophecies, and he can never tell if they’re important or not. But there’s one that he hears, over and over and over again. There shall be three, kin of your kin, who hold the power of the stars in their paws. He doesn’t understand it, doesn’t know why he hears it so often. He’s still a kit at this point, and one day Squirrelflight (who’s visiting them in the nursury), hears him murmuring it in his sleep. She takes him to see Leafpool, who takes him to see Firestar. He is told in no uncertain terms that he will be a medicine cat. Firestar announces this prophecy to the whole clan, declaring his three grandkits to be the three in the prophecy. Some are skeptical, but between Hollykit’s supersenses and Jaykit’s strong connection to StarClan, they slowly become convinced.

As Jaykit becomes Jaypaw, life becomes even harder for him. The ghosts of old medicine cats are always whispering rebukes and advice and stories in his ears, and all he wants is for them to shut. Up. He has constant visions in his dreams of things that have happened, things that are happening, and things that will happen. When he first visits the Moonpool, the voices in his head become so loud that he flees. He hates going to the Moonpool, and dreads the night of the half moon. It never gets easier.

Jayfeather gets on fine with Lionblaze, but he’s much closer with his sister. Hollyleaf has similar problems to him because of her super senses, and the two often sneak out of camp to find the quietest parts of the forest. They then spend hours sitting beside one another, basking in the pleasent silence and stillness. Lionblaze joins them every now and then, but he often gets restless and leaves. This habit starts during their apprenticeships, but continues well into their adulthood.

As the Dark Forest battle approaches, Jayfeather gets more and more visions about it. He sees thousands of different outcomes. He watches his clanmates win and lose and live and die. At first he throws himself into his work to avoid thinking about it, but he doesn’t succeed. Eventually he just holes himself up in his den, rarely eating or drinking, and fighting himself to keep his eyes open. The instant they close, even just to blink, more images flash across his mind. When he hears about what Lionblaze and Ivypaw/pool are doing, he freaks out even more. Finally, he breaks down and tells them what he’s been seeing in his dreams. When the invasion finally happens, Jayfeather is able to guide the clans into making the best, least damaging and most effective choices.Warriors still die, sure, but it isn’t the massacre he saw happening so often in his dreams.

Hollyleaf (and also the entire plot, apparently): Hollykit has always been a nosy busybody. It doesn’t help that she can hear every conversation every cat has ever had within the clan territories. She is a firm believer in the Warrior Code, and she believes that her power was gifted to her by StarClan in order to make sure that everybody follows the code. She’s ambitious, with plans to become leader in order to enforce the code. The Dark Forest tries to recruit her, but she knows who Tigerstar and Thistleclaw are. She knows what they did. She refuses to compromise her morals for the sake of her ambitions. She’ll become leader without the help of murdery rulebreakers no. 1 and 2, thank you very much.

The prophecy just strengthens her convictions. She was chosen by StarClan! She and her siblings will save the clans from themselves. She can already see it! Hollystar, noble leader of ThunderClan, with Lionkit as her loyal deputy and Jayfeather as her noble medicine cat. She’s a little jealous of Lionblaze, popular golden boy. But that’s fine. They’ll see her worth in time. They’ll all see.

When she hears the truth of her parentage she has a breakdown. How can she uphold the Warrior Code if her very existance breaks it? She does not kill Ashfur, but she does flee into the night. She travels to the Tribe, joining their ranks and becoming a Prey-hunter. All is well for moons and moons and moons, until a certain gray apprentice is born and Yellowfang visits Hollyleaf in her dreams. Yellowfang essentially tells Hollyleaf to get her head out of her ass. The last member of the three is born, and it’s time for Hollyleaf to return home. She talks to Stoneteller about her dream, and Stoneteller tells her that the angry cat with poor dental hygene is right: Hollyleaf has been an admirable member of the Tribe, but her place is and always has been with her clanmates and her siblings. Hollyleaf says goodbye to Stormfur and Brook (who she was good friends with) and she leaves.

She fully intended to go back to ThunderClan, but then she hears something going on in WindClan. Dissent. Rebellion. And, worst of all, mentions of the dark forest and the cats training there.

Onestar is an ineffective leader, and cats are starting to take notice. They hate his stupid wars and assholish attitude. He never listens to any of them! And he puts his own pride before the needs of the Clan. The younger WindClan warriors and apprentices are convinced that Onestr is horrible. A pair of charismatic young tom by the name of Houndleap has promised to make them strong. Houndleap will help them rise up against Onestar and replace him with a real leader, like Breezepelt, who seems to hate Onestar the most.

The older warriors don’t like Onestar to much either, but the whispers of these young cats scare them. Surely they wouldn’t murder a leader? Even if he was a terrible one like Onestar. Isn’t it lucky that they have a cat like Snowtuft to rely on? One who shows them how to defend their leader, and which cats they can’t trust? So handy! Sure, he’s in the Dark Forest, but he just wants to help. And he can’t have been that evil, or they would’ve heard of him, they way they know Tigerstar and Brokenstar.

Hollyleaf hears these whispers and hushed conversations, and she knows what she has to do. She has to save WindClan and Onestar! And that’s how she finds herself in the WindClan camp, requesting an audience with Onestar.

She’s obviously not welcome in WindClan, but Onestar doesn’t care. She’s one of the ThunderClan prophecy cats! Firestar’s precious grandkit is in WindClan, offering to become a WindClan warrior. Onestar couldn’t resist this brilliant opportunity to one-up ThunderClan and Firestar. Hollyleaf is now Hollystorm, warrior of WindClan and right hand man of Onestar.

Her relationship with Crowfeather could generously be described as frosty. Her relationship with Nightcloud is a dumpster full of turds that is on fire. Her relationship with Breezepelt is a planet made of turds that’s flying into the sun. Her relationship with Heathertail is... complicated. They hate each other, except they seem to be the only two cats who want to help Onestar (I really ike ace!Hollyleaf/storm, but I also kinda like Hollyheather in this specific AU. They hat each other, but at the same time, they’re the only ones they can trust, and I love that dynamic. But I also like Heatherbreeze! AHHHHHH).

Hollystorm’s place in WindClan came with a few caveats, of course. First: she couldn’t talk to anyone from ThunderClan, ever. Second: She had to swear on her life to defend Onestar at all costs. And third: she would spy on the other clans. She hates spying, and she tries to be as unhelpful as possible, but it’s a careful balancing act, and sometimes she has to bite the bullet. She’s doing the right thing, she’s sure of it. But she’s equally sure that she’s doing it the wrong way. And she’s also sure that Onestar was a horrible choice as a leader!

During her time in WindClan, she bonds with Ashfoot. She respects the wise and intelligent deputy, who seems to hold on to her convictions even while dealing with Onestar. Hollystorm tells Ashfoot why she joined WindClan, and the deputy develops a huge amount of respect for her. This warrior had the ground ripped from beneath her paws. She left her home and her family, and when she decided to return, she realized that something was wrong, and she chose her principals and doing the right thing over her old friends and family. As both are certain that Onestar would be hugely offended by the idea that amybody would dare rebel against him OR that he would banish half of WindClan, they decide to team up and take matters into their own paws. They try to get the other warriors on their side. Roughly half of the older warriors and a few of the younger ones agree to stop seeing their Dark Forest friends. But many WindClanners are still visiting with Houndleap and Snowtuft. Hollystorm and Ashfur realize that, if they want to save WindClan, they’re gonna have to take matters into their own paws. It’s time to pay ThunderClan a visit.

Both Ashfoot and Hollystorm hate the idea of going behind Onestar’s back, but they need advice. Hollystorm has heard conversations had by her siblings, heard Firestar’s gathering announcements about the Dark Forest. ThunderClan knows something Hollystorm doesn’t, and she needs to learn what it is fast. Things are speeding up, the WindClan warriors are getting ready for another civil war...

They request an audience with Firestar in the middle of the night, and it is granted begrudgingly. Hollystorm tells them about the unrest in WindClan, and Firestar tells her everything he knows about the Dark Forest. Lionblaze, Ivypaw, and Dovewing join them and tell them all about what Tigerstar and Thistleclaw are doing. Hollystorm is horrified to hear about this. She always thought of Lionblaze as whiny, egotistical, and spoiled (even though she loved him). As awful as she feels, hearing about the ways in which he’s risking his life and reputation, she’s also so proud of him. Together, they realize that the Dark Forest is in every clan. How could they not be? Firestar decides to call an emergency gathering.

Before they leave the camp, Hollystorm demands to see Jayfeather. She was always so close to him, and the fact that he was not at the meeting concerns her. When she hears about how isolated he’s become, she is shocked and appaled and she races into the medicine den. They get into an arguement over, well, everything that’s happened to them. When they finally finish yelling at each other, Hollystorm takes a deep breath and apologizes. She relays the things she’s learned about the Dark Forest in WindClan, and Jayfeather tells finally breaks. He confesses to the others about the visions that haunt his mind day and night.

They leave before the sun rises so that they don’t get caught by Onestar. Ashfoot sends Hollystorm back to her den. Later that day Ashfoot tells Onestar that she met with Firestar, and that the ThunderClan leader has called for an emergency gathering. Onestar is furious. How dare his deputy betray him like this?!? She does her best to calm him down, tells him about the Dark Forest cats who are manipulating his warriors, and he makes his decision. Every WindClan warrior who he doesn’t trust is to be exiled. In other words, half the clan (including Ashfoot) is getting kicked out. Nobody is happy.

The exiled cats refuse to leave. They dedicate their lives to WindClan, and this asshole kicks them out because of what his deputy says??? No. No no no no no. Not happening. Several of the older warriors who are still meeting with Snowtuft are among the crowd being exiled, and they have had enough. They were going to defend Onestar, but maybe he doesn’t deserve that if he’s gonna make stupid decisions like this. It isn’t long until a fight breaks out.

Hollystorm and Ashfoot are conflicted. Onestar has truly hit rock bottom, but they hate the idea of fighting against him. They eventually choose to fight against him. They hate the idea of turning on a leader, but Onestar has proven to be undeserving of his place.

Onestar and his defenders lose. The young warriors choose Breezepelt as their leader. Breezepelt hates Hollystorm for her heritage, and he hates Ashfoot for being Onestar’s deputy. Both are exiled, along with Onestar’s remaining supporters. They go to the gathering island for the emergency gathering.

The three clans and the WindClan exiles (minus a few who are sticking wih Onestar) meet to discuss the Dark Forest issue. Hollystorm notes that many of the other clans are expiriencing unrest, including ThunderClan.

The other clan leaders are shocked by what happened in WindClan and afraid of what Breezepelt might do at Houndleap’s demand. Several members of the other Clans confess to being visited by Dark Forest cats. Hawkfrost and Mapleshade are in RiverClan, and Clawface and Brokenstar are in ShadowClan. The clans realize that the Dark Forest is using them and tearing them apart to weaken them so that when they strike, the clans will be fractured and weak.

The clans unite as one under the joint leadership of Blackstar, Firestar, and Mistystar, with promises to keep each other updated. Warriors are encouraged to stop meeting with the Dark Forest cats, and to report everything they know to their leaders.

The Dark Forest, realizing that the clans are prepared for them and no longer fractured, decide to change tactics. Hollystorm spies on WindClan, discovering that Breezestar has invited many rogues and loners into WindClan to replenish their ranks for the coming war. WindClan patrols routinely invade the territories of the other clans, stealing prey and attacking patrols. Hollystorm can hear them approaching, and Jayfeather can predict the most likely attacks, but cats still die.

Soon, the other clans decide that enough is enough. They decide to ambush WindClan under the cover of darkness on the night of the new moon. While they’re at it, they send out a group to search for Onestar. But when they enter the camp, they find it deserted. The WindClan medicine cat, Antpelt, warned of their approach, and the cats are all set for an ambush, so silent that not even Hollystorm can detect their presence. Jayfeather bursts into the camp and warns then to retreat just before the WindClan warriors leap out of the shadows.

The combined might of the clans is not enough to fight of WindClan, not with its new rogue army, not during a surprise attack. They suffer heavy losses and retreat.

Jayfeather warns them that the Dark Forest is liable to strike back any day. The clans are weakened, and they have many warriors at their command. The clans move to the ThunderClan camp. It’s small but easily defendable, and they set to work shoring up its defenses.

Hollystorm misses WindClan, she finds. She didn’t notice, but it grew on her. She suspects that, once this whole mess dies down, she may return. She’s given up completely on her dreams of leadership. ThunderClan doesn’t feel like home anymore, not the way WindClan’s moors did. And Onestar would probably never even take her back, nevermind appoint her as his deputy. But she’s still determined to be the best warrior she can be. Maybe she can’t be a leader, and maybe the clans don’t need to be saved from themselves, but they do need her to do the right thing. Not spying or accusing cats of breaking the code, but fighting the real threats, the real dangers. She needs to save the clans from the Dark Forest, to take WindClan back from Breezestar, and make sure that it doesn’t fall into the claws of Onestar. Because sometimes the code can be wrong, and sometimes a bad leader needs to go.

Before the battle, Jayfeather tells her not to protect him. If she tries, she will die. She promises not to, but plans to try anyway.

She’s able to warn the clans of the approach of WindClan and the Dark Forest. The ThunderClan camp becomes a bloodbath, and Hollystorm finds herself in the middle of it. She moves to the medicine den, defending the medicine cats, the injured, the elders, and the kits. She fights side-by-side with Lionblaze and Ivypool. When Hawkfrost confronts them, she kills him, but is seriously injured in the process. She is brought into the medicine den for healing. Jayfeather is furious that she didn’t listen to him and terrified that she might die. The voices of those ancient medicine cats whisper in his ear, but this time they help him focus. They guide him gently and he manages to save her.

Onestar and Breezestar fight it out too. Just when it looks like Breezestar is about to lose, several WindClan warriors pounce on Onestar. He is killed multiple times, and soon his soul departs to StarClan.

Firestar still has his dramatic confrontaion with Tigerstar, and he still kills him. However instead of being killed by a tree, Firestar dies of the wounds he recieved in the deadly battle.

When the battle is over, the leaders demand that Breezestar step down. At first, he wants to resist, but he then realizes that many of his clanmates have either swapped sides or abandoned him entirely. He and Nightcloud abandon the clans and do not return for some time. Ashfoot becomes the new leader of WindClan, and she reunites WindClan. She names Harespring her deputy.

Hollystorm decides to follow her. She will always love her brothers, and she has finally reconciled with Squirrelflight and Leafpool after the battle, but WindClan is her home now, and she would never feel comfortable anywhere else.

Coming up soon: Dovewing, Ivypool, and some extra stuff! (What happened to Ashfur, who mentored Hollyleaf and Lionblaze, more Ashfoot stuff, etc.)

#power of three #omen of the stars #warriors #warrior cats #warrior cats au #lionblaze #hollyleaf #jayfeather #firestar #ivypool #dovewing #ashfoot #ashfoot is probably the fourth cat in this AU #I may just dump the whole fourth cat thing #it doesn't really work for any of the characters in this AU so far #the hollyleaf favoritism au

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thistleclaws-hatred · 5 years ago

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Five Creatures - Chapter Four

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Panther crouched low, keeping his long tail still as he crept forward. His pawsteps were light and his dark pelt blended in perfectly with the dark forest. With another few steps, he leaped forward as far as he could, landing solidly on top of a raven. With a quick bite, he killed his prey. Remembering his mentor’s words, he thanked StarClan for the life of the bird and brought it back to his mentor.

“Excellent catch Panther, you catch on very fast,” Beechmask, a tan tom with black markings, praised him.

“I have a good mentor,” Panther replied, looking proudly at Beechmask.

“Let’s see what else is out tonight,” the older warrior meowed, kicking dirt over Panther’s kill and heading further into their forest. The thick conifer trees stretched high above Panther’s head, a sight he already found comforting, even if he had only been in ShadowClan for a week.

“Do any of the others clan hunt at night?” Panther asked, counting the stars silently in his head.

“I’m sure that ThunderClan likely does as they also live in a thick forest, but we are the best suited to nightly hunting,” Beechmask answered.

Panther snorted, “Copycats.”

Beechmask flashed his apprentice a look of praise, “ThunderClan is always looking to copy us, for they know that we are the only ones who can best them in combat.”

“The only ones?” Panther asked, tilting his head.

“ThunderClan cats are known for fighting in the dense undergrowth, something that WindClan and SkyClan both cannot do. And RiverClan warriors are far too fat to catch anyone,” Beechmask growled, his tail cutting through the air.

At the mention of RiverClan, a fishy scent suddenly flooded the air and Panther knew that they were close to the border. I wonder how Crocodile is doing.

“A stoat,” Beechmask hissed under his breath, directing his apprentice’s view to the small brown animal that was drinking from the lake.

Panther crept up behind the unsuspecting prey and caught it with ease, its limp body hanging from his jaws.

“A job well done, we can head back to camp now.”

“Bring that stoat to Stonewing, that’s his favorite prey. Then you can eat something yourself,” Breechmask ordered his apprentice.

Panther nodded and quickly ran over to the elders’ den. He poked his head inside and was happy to see Stonewing still awake. “Stonewing, I brought you a stoat.”

The white elder turned to face Panther, “You’re shaping up to be a bright hunter. I’m glad Tigerstar brought you to the clan.”

Panther bowed his respect and backed out of the den. Right outside the apprentices’ den, he saw Thornpaw and Sootpaw eating a squirrel, the two engaged in some conversation.

Panther made his way over to them, picking a mouse off the fresh-kill pile and settling next to Sootfur, feeling the gray tom’s soft fur brush up against his own. He listened in to the conversation and perked his ears at the mention of Brokenstar. “Who’s Brokenstar?”

Thornpaw and Sootpaw looked at him with wide eyes, “Sometimes I forget you’re not clan-born,” Sootpaw meowed.

“Brokenstar was the leader of ShadowClan way back in the old territories,” Thornpaw began, his brown eyes locking on Panther, “He was a vicious monster. He killed kits to make a point and wanted every cat to suffer under his claws. He wanted to rule over all the territories. He was bigger than Tigerstar and more aggressive than a hungry fox! With sharp, serrated teeth, he would snatch kits out of their nests and feast on them if they didn’t do what they were told.”

Panther blinked in surprise and felt Sootpaw press closer to him. “Who stopped him?”

“Firestar, back when he was still an apprentice, snuck into ShadowClan’s camp and helped drive him out with the help of other ThunderClan warriors. He later died in ThunderClan’s camp,” Thornpaw finished gulping down the rest of his squirrel and licking the remaining parts off of his whiskers.

“Firestar was the old leader of ThunderClan, right?” Panther asked.

“Yeah, a long time ago. A ginger cat, fierce and strong. Everyone respected him,” Sootpaw continued.

“Yes, Firestar was a brave cat. He even killed the former Tigerstar at the cost of his own life in order to save all the clans,” a deeper voice spoke behind the apprentices. They all turned to see Tigerstar looking at them, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

“Do you get compared to the other Tigerstar a lot?” Sootpaw asked innocently.

“Not so much anymore. I have long since proven that I am not my grandfather and I would never be as ambitious as him,” Tigerstar informed them. “But I am glad to see that you know your history.”

Thornpaw brightened at the praise, his ears perking, “Thank you Tigerstar!”

“You guys should get some sleep soon, nocturnal training is only part of your training,” the ShadowClan leader finished, turning away from the apprentices to head back to his own den.

“Hey, Stormpaw!” Sootpaw called out, seeing the light gray tom enter the clan. “How did your assessment go?”

Stormpaw was the eldest of the apprentices and close to becoming a warrior, “Cinderwing said I did great! She’s going to talk to Tigerstar now about my warrior ceremony,” the apprentice purred with contentment, pressing up against his denmates for likely the last time.

Panther flicked his tail over Stormpaw’s ears, smiling at his denmate. He looked around the ShadowClan camp, a feeling of pride building up in his chest. He knew that he had chosen the right clan.

“Let all those old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath me for a clan meeting!” Tigerstar’s voice rang clear across the camp.

The sound of birds, as well as his call, awoke Panther from his slumber. He blinked his eyes to adjust to the morning light and saw that Stormpaw was already out in the camp, his fur sleek and freshly-groomed.

Panther quickly made his way out into the clearing, sitting next to Sootpaw and looking up at Tigerstar. The dark tabby looked across his warriors, his eyes bright and muscles flexing in the sunlight. “Today, I get to perform one of my favorite duties as clan leader. Stormpaw, please step forward.”

The light gray tom made his way towards Tigerstar. Panther could see his tail was shaking, but he kept his head on straight as he suddenly looked down on all of his own clanmates. Must be terrifying...And exhilarating.

“Cinderwing has assessed this apprentice and deemed him worthy of his warrior name, but Stormpaw I ask you: are you willing to risk your life for ShadowClan against all enemies? Are you willing to hunt until you can’t hunt anymore, fight until your claws fall off, and defend the shadows with your very last breath?”

“I am,” Stormpaw’s voice was calm.

“Are you willing to uphold the warrior code, even at the cost of your life?”

“I am,” Stormpaw puffed up his chest, holding his head higher.

“Then with the power given to me by StarClan, I hail you by your new name, from this day forward you shall be called Stormgaze. ShadowClan honors your intelligence and your bravery and we welcome you as a full warrior of ShadowClan,” Tigerstar bent forward and rested his head on Stormgaze’s own, while the new warrior licked his leader’s shoulder with respect.

Panther felt a glow of pride for his denmate, seeing Stormgaze look down on his fellow clanmates with a look of pure joy. The gray warrior made his way into the crowd of cats below, all of which swarmed him to praise him and give him congratulations.

Out of the corner of his eye, Panther spotted Ashstone, the deputy of ShadowClan, making his way towards him. “Panther.”

“Yes, Ashstone?” Panther looked up at the large black warrior.

“Beechmask tells me that your hunting skills are shaping up quite nicely. I’m here to inform you that today I will be taking you out for some battle training,” Ashstone said. “Follow me.”

Panther bounded after Ashstone, the warrior speedily making his way through the forest until they reached a small pit. Ashstone placed himself at the other end of the pit, looking directly at Panther, “Attack me.”

Panther blinked with surprise. Just like that? He gulped and crouched low, sizing up Ashstone. The deputy was much larger than him, more study. Panther, however, was quick and agile, he could probably get in quick for a few quick strikes and then back out before Ashstone could even react.

When Panther refocused he saw that Ashstone was gone and then a moment later he was on his side, the air forced from his lungs. “Focus Panther.”

Panther stood up and locked his eyes on Ashstone, leaping forward and landing right before Ashstone in an instant. He lashed out with one paw and struck Ashstone on the side of the head. But, before the apprentice could back away though, Ashstone snapped his head around and grabbed Panther’s paw, pulling him forward into the muddy floor. “You’re going to have to be faster than that.”

Panther pulled himself free and turned around, kicking out with his hind legs in a move taught to him by Phoenix many moons ago. His paws struck Ashstone upside his jaw and the deputy was in the mud a second later.

Ashstone flashed him a look of surprise and stood up, eyeing the apprentice questioningly. Panther awaited further instruction but instead found himself flat on his back when Ashstone knocked him aside with a quick shoulder blast. Panther regained his balance quickly and lurched forward, snapping his jaws right against Ashstone’s ear.

The deputy rolled underneath Panther, launching him upwards as he stood to his paws. Panther landed on his feet and turned around on a mouse, rearing up on his hind-legs and stepping forward was an uncommon grace. As he walked on his hind-legs he slashed at the air, keeping Ashstone at a distance. When Panther landed back on all fours, Ashstone raised his tail to let Panther know to stop.

“You can walk on your hind-legs?” the deputy asked, bewildered.

“Yes?” Panther answered, “You can’t?”

“Not like that. Where did you learn that?”

“Moose taught it to me when we were still living together,” Panther explained. What does he mean he can’t walk on his hind-legs?

“An incredible battle tactic. Kept me on my toes for sure,” Ashstone admitted.

Panther basked in the praise. Perhaps for a moment too long. Ashstone was on his back a few moments later, pawing viciously at his spine. Thank StarClan his claws are sheathed. Panther thought before quickly rolling over to get the deputy off of his back.

When Ashstone landed from removing himself off of the apprentice, he got a quick blow to the shoulder from Panther’s paws. The warrior ducked under the next attack, headbutting the apprentice in the chest. Panther went back a few paces and felt a paw knock his front legs out front under him. With his chest now in the dirt he used the one move he could.

Using his long tail, he whipped it across Ashstone’s muzzle, making the warrior flinch in surprise and giving Panther enough time to crawl forward and stand up as quickly as he could, the top of his hard skull knocking into the bottom of the deputy’s jaw.

Ashstone leaped away from the apprentice, panting and dipping his head in respect. Panther thought he saw a moment of fear flash in the deputy’s eyes, but quicker than you could say ‘mouse’ it was gone. The apprentice bowed at the deputy, also panting.

#five creatures au #five creatures chapter four #chapter 4 #warriors #my writing #warrior cats #warrior cats au #tigerstar #thunderclan #tigerheart #shadowclan #tigerheartstar #panther #windclan #riverclan #skyclan #starclan #fighting cats

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we-rate-warrior-names · 4 years ago

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i followed this blog on my old account and i remember loving how you described my ocs :), so how about Tigerwillow (f), Finchstorm (m), Ravencloud (f), Milkflower (f), Obsidianwhisker (m), Opalclaw (f), Hookstar (m), Hurricanepath (f), Murkslash (m), Sporeclaw (m), and Bonepaw (m)? i'm sorry these are a lot but these are my fav names i've made but i'd like to see how you'd think of some of them :)

No need to apologise, I hope you enjoy these!

Tigerwillow - A skilful and thoughtful she-cat. Tigerwillow will always thinks before she acts and she tries not to blindly follow orders wherever possible, she likes to do what she believes is right, and when she feels particularly passionate about something she becomes bold enough to suggest an alternative, even if this directly contradicts her leader. Tigerwillow can easily move silently through the densest undergrowth, despite her strength, this combination of attributes means that she is a powerful warrior, and she is greatly respected amongst all the clans for the mercy she shows in battle, she will never continue to attack a cat that is clearly beaten, and will even wave a signal with her tail for a medicine cat to come over before she jumps back into action, 15/10

Finchstorm- An energetic and determined tom. Finchstorm will never give up on anything he sets his mind to, no matter what happens, many cats can’t help but admire his stubbornness. Finchstorm is always ready and eager to do something, he just can’t seem to sit still, if he ever gets a free moment where he isn’t expected to do anything, he will often go and hunt or practise his battle moves, even in the middle of the night if he can’t sleep, which is a reasonably regular occurrence, 15/10

Ravencloud - An intelligent and curious she-cat. Ravencloud likes to know everything she can, she is always investigating things, ranging from new clump of plants in her territory or the possibility another clan is hiding something. Ravencloud is a quick thinker and can easily keep a cool head in a crisis since she looks at things logically and works problems out that way, so she never overthinks things, only ever seeing a situation for what it is, 15/10

Milkflower- A kind and hardworking she-cat. Milkflower always puts 100% into everything she does, she is always more than happy to help a clanmate and would hate to let them down, so she always carries out every task as it is the most important thing in the world to complete. Milkflower has a very motherly nature and is always looking out for the well-being of her clanmates, and it isn’t uncommon for a cat to come and ask her for advice, she will always happily help a cat with whatever they need, even if it’s just a sympathetic ear and some comfort, 15/10

Obsidianwhisker - An introverted and serious tom. Obsidianwhisker largely keeps to himself, but that doesn’t stop him judging other cats, he will silently judge warriors he sees messing around when they are supposed to be on duty, they are supposed to be warriors, not apprentices. Obsidianwhisker will speak up to make his voice heard when he feels it is needed, but he prefers not to, but he will often openly growl to make his opinion heard if he disagrees with something, cats kind of prefer to stay away from him because of his gloomy nature and that suits him just fine, 15/10

Opalclaw- A skilful and thoughtful she-cat. Opalclaw prides herself on her precision, she hasn’t missed a single target in hunting or battle since she was an apprentice, and she works hard in order to maintain this skill, often going out at night to swipe at fast-flying insects to do so. Opalclaw will always consider political situations carefully before offering her input, and she will never make a judgement until she knows all the facts of a situation, if she does get involved, it is almost impossible to beat her in an argument as she tries to make sure she is as knowledgeable about a situation as possible before getting involved, 13/10

Hookstar- A confident and determined tom. Hookstar will always rise to a challange, he is determined to not be known as a weak leader of a weak clan, Hookstar wants the story of his reign to be told for seasons to come for all the best reasons. Hookstar will never hesitate to make a show of strength to the other clans, and he always likes to ensure his warriors are in top condition, and will once a season he asks each of his apprenticeless warriors to be involved in at least one apprentice battle training session in order to help keep their skills sharp. Hookstar’s greatest fear is being remembered as a weak leader, so he will do anything to prove his strength, 14/10

Hurricanepath- A bold and adventurous she-cat. Hurricanepath is amazingly strong, she can easily knock a cat over and send them tumbling for a tail-length with a single swipe, she is not a cat you want to get on the bad side on, but her strength also gives her confidence and she is always the first to volunteer for anything, the more dangerous the better. Hurricanepath always lives for adventure and loves to try new things, and will even on occasion sneak off at night and do a little exploring and hope no one notices, if they do, she just claims she was tracking a fox scent and cats tend to leave her alone, they know that if they were to challange her they would just lose anyway and besides she’s friendly enough when she’s not in battle, and no cat wants to find out what happens if you decide to make an enemy of her, 15/10

Murkslash - A creative and introverted tom. Many cats think Murkslash is a little odd, mainly because he gets excited for the rain to come, because rain means mud, and Murkslash uses the mud to make patterns on rocks, often taking great pride in his work, but he gets embarrassed by this hobby so he tries to keep it as quiet as possible, but always after a storm patrols will notice dried mud patterns on rocks, and many think it’s actually rather pretty until the rain washes it away again and Murkslash gets to draw something new. Murkslash lacks the confidence to speak in crowds and he doesn’t do well under pressure, having to lead a patrol is his worst nightmare, as he will get nervous and make what he perceives to be embarrassing mistakes. However, Murkslash is a beast in battle, the strokes he uses when making his mud patterns have helped him with his paw and claw movements, allowing him to land strong and precise blows when he needs to, 14/10

Sporeclaw- A mischievous and skilful tom. Sporeclaw will never say no to causing a little bit of harmless chaos, he finds great amusement at the inconvenience of others and he can barely contain his purrs about thinking about what he plans to do next. When he isn’t causing mischief, Sporeclaw will often be found hunting, since he has always been a gifted hunter and enjoys it almost as much as he does pranking, he will often challange himself to see how many pieces of prey he can catch from sunhigh to to sunset, even having a competition with a friend or two if they are available, 13/10

Bonepaw- A serious and intelligent tom. Bonepaw takes his apprenticeship very seriously, he wants to prove himself to his clan and show what potential he has. Bonepaw will never stop trying to learn a technique unless he is sure he has gotten it perfect, and he will often recite things under his breath repeatedly in order to help him remember them. Bonepaw stays out of the other apprentices playing around, he believes that games belong in the nursery, he believes that apprenticeships need to be taken seriously or a cat will never become a warrior, and Bonepaw wants to be a warrior more than anything in the world, 14/10

#full disclosure i misread murkslash as murksplash until i proofread but i didnt have the heart to change it too much #so if that one feels a little off then thats why #sorry about that #tigerwillow #finchstorm #ravencloud #milkflower #obsidianwhisker #opalclaw #hookstar #hurricanepath #murkslash #sporeclaw #bonepaw #anonymous #warrior cats

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queenofnohr · 5 years ago

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Aeaean Spring Breeze - Ch. 4: Like Iron, Like Steel

Dreamwidth version here

---

[we begin with a storybook segment]

Once upon a time......

—There was a man who was like iron. He had a strong will and a tenacious spirit. A hero who loved the gods, and was beloved by the gods. A warrior who departed for home after a long, long war.

......He was tired. Tired of war, tired of thinking. Tired of killing. And it was the same for his men. Fighting so much for so long had worn away at their very souls.

Witch: Then it would be better if you became beasts.

……And perhaps it was. Being able to simply live without thinking. It must be very fun to be a beast.

It was only a single man. One man who stubbornly refused such a fate.

Man: —I must return home.

Not, “I want to return home.” “I must return home.” The witch refutes the man’s words.

Witch: Why do you need to return? Everything you want is right here.

Man: It’s not. Penelope isn’t here.

The witch is at a loss for words. Out of everything in this whole wide world. It was for the sake of a single woman. He would risk his life to go home for one single woman.

Witch: —I can’t. I won’t let you go, how could I let you go?

Perhaps it was because he was the first thing she’d ever felt an attachment toward. She wanted this man, wanted to show the world she had him. In some respects, it was the mismatched desire to own him. In that way, the witch was still a witch. ……If she could just be with him. If that wish was granted, she would be okay.

[end storybook segment]

Mash: I’m not picking up on…… anything, in this room. Arjuna: So it seems. No signs, no fire, no ice. Orion: Then should we go ahead? Circe: Hm...... Odysseus, try tossing that stone. Odysseus: Like this?

[he throws it]

Arjuna: …...I’ll amend my previous statement. There isn’t any fire or ice, but there does seem to be invisible beams set up. Odysseus: ......You’re sharp. Circe: The eyes of a Great Witch can’t be fooled. Arjuna: So…… What should we do? Should we go back down the previous path and try to see if there’s another route? Odysseus: That would probably be a futile effort. If we take into account the layout of this labyrinth, even if we follow other branching paths, they’ll likely just lead us back here. Jason: ……Huh, looks like there’s a button on the other side of the room. It’s like it’s screaming “Please push me!” Arjuna: Then, shall I try shooting it? Jason: Wait—

[Arjuna shoots it]

Arjuna: ……There’s something repelling my arrows…... Jason: Can you warn us before doing something like that!? What if it exploded!? Orion: Ya’know, I’ve been thinking this for a while but…… Arjuna kinda acts like an accelerator rather than a brake…… Like, instead of stopping us from acting rashly, he tends to take the lead when it comes to rushing in…… Arjuna: Preposterous. I’m the picture of serenity. In fact, it’s my role to keep the rest of you calm. Orion: It’s pretty scary to have a catalyst with no self-awareness…… Circe: Hm, hmmmmm, how about this……?

[lasers appear after Circe uses her magic]

Circe: Alrighty, now we can see them clearly. Jason: Okay, we can see the laser trap. Then all we have to do is run and press the button, right? If we do that, then we should be able to clear the room. Circe: *sigh* Looks like it can’t be helped. ......’Kay, then you guys wait here a sec. Odysseus: Are you going to be okay? Circe: Huh? What’s with that look? Are you gonna say you’re worried? Odysseus: A little. Considering the traps so far, I doubt the solution would be so simple. Circe: ……Yeah, I think so too. But for now I’ll put up a defensive barrier and give it a go. Now then, let’s go, Master!

> Take ca—

Circe: Huh?

[Circe explodes]

Circe: Gyah!!? Ouch ouch ouch ouch! What the hell was that!? Orion: The second Circe entered the room, it’s like all the lasers entered attack mode and homed in on her…… Circe: Th- This sucks! It broke through my boosted defenses like they were nothing! Even some of my clothes and hair got singed! Odysseus: ......Are you okay? Circe: I’m fine! But what are we supposed to do? We’re not gonna be able to get through like this! ???: Oh my, not with that attitude you won’t.

> That lovely voice…...!

Euryale: Hello, everyone. It is the goddess who both walks with and is clad in with loveliness, poise, and purity— That’s right, it is I, Euryale. Now then, what are your complaints? Odysseus: I have no complaints, but I do have questions. Euryale: Oh, you’re scary. Like a hunter shooting prey. So this is what it means to be a warrior who puts intellect before heroism. And it is because of this that you are a hero of humanity. I wonder how you’re different from savage warriors.

> Why are you doing this?

Euryale: ...... ...... Rather than answering that, I’ll tell you how to get through this room. Jason: (She dodged the question!) Euryale: The trick to this trial is to synchronize your breathing with another. Two of you must step in time and synchronize your breaths as if dancing to avoid the lasers. I wrote down detailed rules. Here, read and memorize them. Circe: Th- This is really complicated. Euryale: It’s complicated, but not impossible. Just believe in your goddess. Orion: ……That’s the least trustworthy phrase in the entire world…... Euryale: What did you just say? Orion: *silence* Odysseus: …...Goddess Euryale. I have a question. Euryale: What is it? Odysseus: Until now, if there was a trick to solving a room, there was also a hint to help solve it…… Why wasn’t there a hint this time? Euryale: No reason in particular. Don’t get carried away, human. Those hints are both the kindness of a goddess and her fickleness. Whether or not I give you a hint is all on a whim. Asterios: Euryale, I found the lost sign! Look, look! Euryale: Ah, wait. I’m broadcasting right now, so don’t come over! ......Anyway. That’s why! Jason: In other words, it’s just a run-of-the-mill mistake on your end. Arjuna: ......Hmmm. In that case, the problem is who Circe will sync her breathing up with. Master is out of the question. We cannot put them in harm’s way. Then, out of those remaining…... Jason: Syncing my breathing with Circe? The Great Witch? With me? ......That’s impossible...... Orion: I’m with Jason. Georgios: Arjuna and I have different places of origin and are from different eras. ……Isn’t Odysseus the best choice for this task? Circe: ......Absolutely not. Georgios: Why? Circe: I don’t really have a reason, but I still don’t wanna. Teaming up with Odysseus for this is totally unreasonable. It’s like the gods are toying with me! Orion: Well, that goes without saying. She admitted herself she does whatever she wants…… Circe: Totally! Jason: Oh my god. Master, say something.

> Circe, even if you don’t want to, it can’t be helped

Jason: Right!? Circe: Ugh...... W-When you put it like that...... It’s not like I’m trying to be unreasonable, damn it.

> Is there anyone besides Odysseus?

Circe: Hmmmm…… First of all, Jason and Orion? Hard pass. Totally out of the question. Jason: What was that!? I didn’t wanna team up with you anyway, but “totally out of the question”!? Orion: Yeah, that’s super whack! Circe: Medea. Jason: Urp. Circe: Artemis. Orion: Oof. Circe: Arjuna and Gerogios…… Hmm, it feels like I’m already out of sync with the two of you…… Georgios: How harsh. But I do agree with you.

Circe: So that leaves…… Hmmm…… Just like before...... It comes down to…… You, I guess…… Odysseus: Seems like it. There’s no need to feel embarrassed, though. We’re dead, after all. Circe: I mean, you’re right, but…… It’s totally more complicated than that! Odysseus: It’s for the sake of getting through the labyrinth. ……You probably have a good reason to hate me. But I’m asking you to please bear with it for just a little bit. Circe: ......That, right there! That’s the exact sort of thing I hate! Do you get it!? Odysseus: It seems like you hate my existence. Circe: ......Ugh. I’m SO glad I put that limiter on my emotions. If I hadn’t, we’d probably have killed each other by now. It feels like this is going nowhere, but whatever. Let’s get this over with, Odysseus. Just follow my lead. Odysseus: Very well. Circe: ……Keep close to me. Odysseus: Like this? Circe: That’s too close, idiot. Move away a bit. ‘Kay, let’s go. Let’s see…… Step here first. Odysseus: .....We were able to avoid it, however narrowly. It’s just as the goddess said. Circe: We’re still going. Left! Right! Center! Crouch! Jump! Stay close and turn! Jason: So breathing in sync was the correct answer after all. Circe: Quiet, peanut gallery! 1, 2, 3...... Turn here! Mash: It’s like a ballroom dance. Circe: This is pretty frantic for a dance! Odysseus: Naturally. If a goddess has something to do with all this nonsense, then of course this laser trap is serious business. Circe: Crouch! Odysseus: Rahhhh! Jason: Ha, ha, ha, seeing Odysseus so frantic is pretty unexpected— ……Oi. Some of my beautiful golden locks burnt off. Wait, this trap is seriously lethal!? Circe: Why else would we be jumping around like our lives depended on it!? Georgios: Be that as it may, it really does look like you’re dancing. Smile, you two. Odysseus: In this situation......!? Circe: As if we can smile like it’s nothing! Crouch now!

[They do smile for Georgios]

Circe: We made it! Switch off! Arjuna: The lasers disappeared. Let’s move.

[something rumbles]

Arjuna: Hm?

[an alarm sounds]

Circe: All of that and we still have to fight!? Odysseus: It’s simply the whims of the goddess. Our move will be to counter-attack.

[battle, and after Odysseus gets some of his memories]

Odysseus: Mm. This is...... Circe: More of your memories? Odysseus: Correct. I’ve regained another portion of my memory. But the question of why I was summoned here still remains. Putting that aside— ......Circe. You’re Circe. Circe: So you’ve finally remembered? That’s right. I’m Circe, the Great Witch of Aeaea Island. Odysseus: Those words are finally sinking in. ......It’s been a while. Circe: Your memory came back, and while it’s an unfortunate feeling, I’m not really shaken up. Fufu. Odysseus: ......Did you use magic again? Circe: Again? Odysseus: You did it a couple times while I was on Aeaea Island. Circe: Huh, really? What did I use it for? Odysseus: ......You don’t remember? Circe: Yeah, that’s what I’m saying. I don’t remember at all. Odysseus: ......To be frank, it might be too much coming from me. Circe: Just tell me! Odysseus: Hahahaha. Forgive me. I was joking. Circe: ...... ......? Odysseus, now that you’re here again, what do you think of me? Odysseus: Let’s see. You’re a proud Great Witch who has acquired all manner of knowledge. ……I’d like for you to break your bad habit of turning people into beasts. Circe: Hmph. I always choose who I turn carefully.

> You do!?

Circe: Gah, Master! Arjuna: If I may speak frankly. ......Circe would change anyone into a pig, regardless of who they were. Georgios: Yes, I think so as well. Do you have any standards? Circe: I do! I have standards. But, I won’t tell you what they are. Odysseus: ……Yeah, I’m aware. I know what your standards are. Circe: !? ......I’ve never told you, though. Odysseus: Indeed, you haven’t. I might also be wrong. Nonetheless, I don’t want to say it, so I’ll keep it a secret. Circe: ......Hmph.

> (Those two have a secret……!)

Mash: (It makes your heart race just a bit, doesn’t it senpai?)

> I don’t want you to turn anyone into a pig……

Circe: ......Oh no, Piglet, it’s my— Policy, I guess? Just a kind of feeling. Jason: You just do it to whoever annoys you enough!

Georgios: Hmm……

[Georgios snaps a photo of Odysseus]

Odysseus: Another photo I presume, Georgios? Georgios: You had a nice expression on. Odysseus: I’ll take that as a compliment. Now then. Let’s go confront the goddess who stole my memories and made this Singularity. Then it’ll be case closed. Hopefully. Circe: ……That’s right. Let’s go! Odysseus: ......Though, I’m hungry. It seems like a stray Servant’s fate is a lack of mana.

> What should we do?

Odysseus: Forming a contract would be the quickest way, but...... Arjuna: I would advise against that.

> Should we form a contract?

Odysseus: ……No, let’s stop that train of thought there.

Odysseus: Although this is a Micro-Singularity, a goddess is involved. You shouldn’t form a contract thoughtlessly with a strange Servant. Arjuna: You think yourself unworthy of our trust? Odysseus: Indeed. Circe: Then, do you want to supply your mana with food? And by that I mean……! Everyone: Kykeon. Circe: That’s right! Jason: Kykeon, huh……? Circe: What’s with that look of disgust? Odysseus: I don’t hate it. On the contrary, it’s quite nostalgic. Circe: Really? If that’s the case, I always have ingredients to make kykeon on me! Jason: What in the world would possess you to do that…… Arjuna: Then let’s take a small break while Circe treats us to kykeon.

---

Ch. 3 ← → Ch. 5

#fgo #fgo translations #fate grand order #grand order #aeaean spring breeze #my translations #long post

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booperdooperdipper · 5 years ago

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ThunderClan survivors: Cinderheart, Leafpool, Thornclaw, Spiderleg, Daisy, Dewkit, Seedkit

ShadowClan survivors: Scorchfur, Rowanclaw, Dawnpelt, Olivenose, Kinkfur, Sparrowkit

WindClan survivors: Emberfoot, Nightcloud, Crouchpaw

RiverClan survivors: Reedwhisker, Heronpaw, Curlpaw, Havenkit

@10leftau I love this too much here ya go

Cinderheart is the first to crawl out of the wreckage after the dust finally settles, and is horrified to see almost her entire family was killed. Only Seedkit made it out alive. This caused a serious blow to her mental health but knew she had to pull it together for her clanmates. She’s the one who rounds up the survivors of the other clans and starts putting them together again, knowing the only way to survive. She is the driving force of the survivors’ recovery and later becomes Cinderstar, after everyone agrees she’d be the best choice. Sadly she and Lionblaze never had to have a family, but she helps raise Seedkit as best as she can. She takes no other mate after him.

Leafpool, being the only surviving medicine cat, had a large burden on her back alongside her grief. She lost everything she loved; her parents, her sister, her kits, the cat she once loved… for a while it was too much to bear and she locked herself in the medicine den, refusing to eat or speak to anyone. It was actually Nightcloud who helped her through this. The Windclan cat had lost all of her clan as well as her mate, and knowing her actions helped shaped Breezepelt into the monster he was hurt her more than words could express. Nightcloud had lost all hatred for Leafpool, and they shared their grief and healed together. They are often seen sharing tongues in silence, but simply being near each other calms them. Nightcloud was also chosen as the new deputy instead of either Rowanclaw or Reedwhisker, and is extremely grateful for Cinderstar having such trust in her.

Thornclaw is pretty badly scarred up after the battle. He was the one who found the nursery was overrun, with Brightheart fighting so many cats at once after Ferncloud and Sorreltail fell. She begged him to save her kits, before disappearing under a pile of fur and blood. He only managed to save Dewkit, who he hid in the dirtplace before running back to help his littermate. Brightheart was already gone by the time he got back, but he managed to save Daisy and Seedkit at the cost of his eye and foot. He worked tirelessly to secure the nursery once the cats came together in Thunderclan’s camp, vowing to never let another queen be harmed again. Once Cinderstar got her nine lives, he saw his clan was in safe paws with her, and finally retires as the first elder after the Great Battle.

Spiderleg only realized how many regrets he had when he found Rosepetal and Toadstep’s bodies. The two had died together, fighting side by side till the end. It hurt him how he was absent in their lives- for what? Because he was a coward? Too embarrassed that he couldn’t connect with his kits, and now he never would. He lost everything that night, and found himself weeping at Daisy’s paws, begging for forgiveness. He apologized for everything he had done to hurt her, and their kits.

Daisy refused to forgive him at first; the heartbreak of losing all five of her kits at once, as well as being unable to protect her fellow queens, made her bitter, and more than once she considered leaving the clans and the memories that haunted her there. But, as the remains of the clans came together, she and Spiderleg started to become close again as they truly get to know and love each other.

Rowanclaw had a lot of trouble keeping things together after his clan was decimated in the Great Battle. Being an actual deputy, his clanmates sided with him, as well as Emberfoot from Windclan. Him and Reedwhisker were in a battle of who would be in charge, as the two had been next in line for leadership. But while the pair fought over who would be the successor, Cinderheart was focusing on the wellbeing of their cats. In the end, every cat swayed to choose her instead of them. Rowanclaw was angry, and was even more enraged when she chose Nightcloud as her deputy. However, for the sake of his remaining clanmates, he kept his temper under wraps, but it would soon boil to an unbearable degree…

Dawnpelt was horrified to find everyone she loved dead, and became physically aggressive to any cat to approach her. She had managed to protect Kinkfur and her only surviving kit from the Dark Forest cats till they had retreated. The three of them were found at the barn a day or so after the battle by a patrol headed by Daisy. The patrol was going to see if they could convince Smoky to share some prey with them, as so many cats were weak and needed food to recover. They found the barncat being chased away by Dawnpelt. She had taken over the barn as her new territory. It took much convincing and they had to bring Rowanclaw to her. The three were taken in with the other survivors. Dawnpelt became a strong supporter of her father, mostly because he was the only relative she had left, and she wanted to see Shadowclan be the sole survivor of the clans. She sided with her father in her anger, becoming his strongest ally among the cats. She later gives birth to Scorchfur’s kits, the first kits born after the Great Battle- Juniperkit, Sleekkit and Tawnykit.

Scorchfur was what most cats would call an brat; he downright refused to cooperate with any Thunderclan cats at all. He only started to warm up to them when he saw Dewkit and Seedkit. He may have hated the ‘pompous Thunderclan mouse brains’ but he could never bring himself to dislike the kits. At first he remained withdrawn to interacting solely with his clanmates, occasionally reaching out to interact with the kits from the other clans. This was when he started having affections toward Dawnpelt. In time, however, he also found a friend in Emberfoot of Windclan. He respected the warrior for being a strong and swift hunter, but what truly sparked their friendship was when Emberfoot sided with Rowanclaw as the new leader. He became Crouchpaw’s new mentor, which also helped him learn how to be more mature as he affectionately considered the tom as a little brother.

Emberfoot is more cool and level-headed than his Shadowclan friend, but was also very badly injured in the Great Battle, losing an eye and having a good chunk of his shoulder ripped out. He sided with Rowanclaw because he thought that Reedwhisker was a bit too pompous and had always assumed that the black tom had only gotten his position because of his mother Mistystar. He wholeheartedly agreed with Cinderstar being leader, knowing she was most likely the best hope for the clan. He constantly teased his friend for being a hotheaded idiot, but it was a mutual joke among them. He also soon started crushing on Olivenose, and it became the main point of teasing for Scorchfur.

Olivenose had a lot of guilt before the Great Battle. She blamed herself for the death of Flametail, and being a survivor alongside Dawnpelt made it even more burning. During the Great Battle she became panicked and ran from the battle, leaving Ferretclaw and Tallpoppy behind in a fight. She adds their deaths to her list of guilt. She refuses to talk to anyone, becoming a shell of her happy self before the Great Battle. She communicates primarily through facial expressions and body language.

Reedwhisker was absolutely heartbroken at the lost of his mother and clan. He was left alone with two apprentices and a kit, trying to hold himself together. He tried to get some sort of semblance of control over his life by trying to become the leader. He needed to be strong for these cats, he thought, and the only way he knew how was to be like his mother, the strongest cat he knew. He had support of his clanmates, Emberfoot from Windclan, and surprisingly Daisy and Thornclaw from Thunderclan. He and Rowanclaw would often almost come to blows over how they would lead; Rowanclaw would focus more on protecting their borders and simply building up strength (as well as wanting everyone to move to Shadowclan’s old camp) while Reedwhisker wanted to find more cats to boost up their population. In the end he saw how Cinderstar truly cared about her clanmates first and foremost, so he conceded that she was the better leader.

Kinkfur was the only remaining queen that could still nurse kits, and luckily managed to escape with at least one of her kits. She latched onto Dewkit and Seedkit as soon as she saw them, to the point she physically tried to take them from the warriors who brought them to her. She adopted them as her own and took in Havenkit once she was found as well.

Sparrowkit was at first kind of grumpy that he had to share his mother’s affections, as well as sad that he lost his littermates. But he soon became very close with Dewkit and Seedkit, considering them his siblings. They were thick as thieves and were always found together, whether it was napping to pestering Leafpool for honey, to finding nettles to put in the warriors’ nests.

Dewkit was the only surviving kit of Brightheart and Cloudtail. The scent of the dirtplace hid his scent very well, and no one found him till Thornclaw came back for him. He formed a close bond with Sparrowkit and Seedkit, seeing his siblings in them. He misses his mother a lot, and often asks Thornclaw to tell him stories about her and his father, which the golden tom happily agrees.

Seedkit was the most badly scarred of the kits; she was forcefully removed from the nest after Sorreltail died and swatted around in the chaos of the cats in the nursery. She watched her sister Lilykit get tossed around like a moss ball before she lost consciousness. They were actually prepared to bury her before she woke up and was rushed to Leafpool. She is very skittish and easily frightened, and Dewkit and Sparrowkit are very protective of their adopted sibling.

Havenkit was the only Riverclan kit to survive the Great Battle, and it was completely by blind luck. Multiple Dark Forest cats had forced their way into the nursery. While her littermates scattered in panic and Duskfur fought the best she could, Havenkit was frozen in her nest. A sharp kick from the battle sent the reed nest shooting backwards through the hole where the invaders had broken in, and she landed in the river and was rushed downstream. She stayed there for two days, floating in the lake. By the time she drifted towards the gathering island, she was extremely weak. Curlpaw swam out to her and pushed the nest back to shore. She was given some chewed up fish, but without Kinkfur’s milk she would’ve perished.

Crouchpaw was a very young apprentice during the Great Battle, and his mentor Gorsetail didn’t want him in the combat. She ordered him to assist Kestrelflight alongside Sunstrike while the Windclan medicine cat ran to where he was needed. He was so angry that he wasn’t going to be able to fight, but soon realised why his mentor did that as he saw the bodies pile up. The trio met up with Breezepelt in the middle of the chaos, who said there were cats in trouble near Shadowclan. They followed him, but were met with a swarm of Dark Forest cats. The last thing he saw was Breezepelt turn and bare his teeth at his clanmates, before it became a mess of fur and blood. He barely pulled through from his injuries and woke up under Leafpool’s care. Both Sunstrike and Kestrelflight perished.

Heronpaw and Curlpaw just barely managed to survive together by retreating to the gathering island and hiding in the trees. They spent a few days there, trying to recover when they found and rescued Havenkit, then reunited with Reedwhisker. They made their own little clan, “Greenclan” as the apprentices called it, and tried to survive together, but Havenkit got weaker and weaker without a queen to nurse her. They initially attempted to make it to twolegplace, then made a detour to Thunderclan’s camp in an attempt to find traveling herbs (Curlpaw remembered Mothwing describing some) and walked right into the middle of the survivors. They are very close friends and have recently started to open up to Crouchpaw as well, trying to get him to interact with them.

Other facts

Cinderheart’s whole ‘Cinderpelt’ deal will be more useful in this au, rather than just being forgotten just before the battle

Heronpaw’s mentor is Reedwhisker, Curlpaw’s mentor is Olivenose

Havenkit becomes Leafpool’s next apprentice after she shows a faint connection with Starclan

Crouchpaw is kind of uncomfortable around Spiderleg, due to his black pelt. One time he nearly tore his ear during a hunt because he thought he saw Breezepelt

Every warrior contributes in training the apprentices and everyone learns tricks from their original clans.

The new clan is called Brightclan, after they found hope through the darkest of times. (Dewkit likes to think it is named after his mother.)

Floss survives her greencough thanks to Leafpool’s help, and eventually joins Brightclan because Smoky shows little to no care for her compared to how the clan did. She gives birth to his kits Frogkit and Fuzzykit.

#10% left au

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evolutionsvoid · 6 years ago

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When it comes to religion for the Ghilani, they are a rather laid back people. They do partake in worship and offerings, but they do not strictly uphold these practices. To them, living and thriving is what the gods truly want from them, as that means that the Ghilani are doing their part to maintain the systems. To better understand this, one must know the deities of the Ghilani religion. According to their writings and belief, the entire world and its many ecosystems are actually made from the bodies of the gods. The surface that we know is in reality the backs of the gods, whose massive forms come together to create the landscape. The many and unique habitats found around the world are all created by certain types of deities, whose flesh and fluids allow such specific growths and structures. For example, there is one type (or perhaps "species") of god whose body creates jungles and rainforests. The description of these beings call in mind a mixture of jellyfish, anemone and worm clusters, their many tendrils and growths creating the thick vegetation these lands are known for. Another example are the rare deities that make up the hivelands, who are said to be like great starfish whose brittle armored bodies create the rocky, porous mountains that are so iconic. With the gods being the very earth we live on, the Ghilani view all life as the tiny creatures that help keep things healthy and running properly. Like how the smallest worm and insect can decide the fate of a forest, all life above must do their part and keep everything in balance. If they fail to do so, or if a species chooses to destroy the balance, than the god beneath their feet shall sicken and the land itself will forsake all. So for the Ghilani, giving faith is done by maintaining the balance and living life as one should. This is the belief of all Ghilani, though there may be some variations between communities. Some have even spoken of one village of leech folk who have a unique goddess of their own. She is not like the buried, slumbering gods below, but a great beast that brings protection and blessings to their community. It is said that she is known as Glanis, the Goddess of the Swamp. According to outsiders who have seen her (and survived this encounter), Glanis is a massive fish-like creature that lives in the murky waters of the swamp. Though she is large compared to the likes of human and Ghilani, she is quite minuscule when it comes to the other gods of Ghilani faith. One must remember that these entities are so large, that we live upon them without notice. Their sheer size and godly flesh makes them practically imperceptible to mortal eyes and senses, who can only interpret their being as things like dirt, water and rock. When not comparing her to these beings, Glanis is quite large and powerful. It is said that her maw could swallow a full grown cow with ease, and her bulk could crush a whole platoon of warriors. Outsiders say that the Ghilani worship her and give sacrifices so that she may drive away intruders and protect their home. Many are warned about entering the swamp without the blessing of the Ghilani, as she will burst from the waters and swallow them whole. One tale speaks of a battalion of soldiers who once traveled through this swamp, using the murky land as a shortcut to a far away war. Despite this horde being armed to the teeth, only a handful of warriors stumbled out of that foul place, wailing about a great beast that pulled dozens down below. Some even claim that the Ghilani shall fool travelers and visitors so that they may send them into the swamp as a sacrifice. One must keep in mind, though, that these stories come from outsiders. People who are unaware of the ways of these folk, and some who may never even have stepped foot in this swamp to begin with. If you actually visited this land and talked to the Ghilani or any locals, you would find these tales quite untrue. The terrible stories of the voracious goddess mess up a lot of things, most noticeably the fact that the Ghilani don't actually think she is a god. Despite what outsiders believe, the Ghilani do not actually think that Glanis is a goddess or some omnipotent entity. They are well aware that she is a flesh and blood creature like them, and they are not afraid to admit that. Even though she is mortal (as far as everyone knows), they see her as a beloved guardian of their homeland and an invaluable member of their community. If you were to ask about her origin or how the partnership was formed, you would find the tale to be rather lacking. The first thing is that the Ghilani don't even know where she came from, they just know that she has been here "the whole time." The other thing is that there was no great battle or ancient pact sealed with blood. What happened was that the Ghilani became aware of a great beast that lurked within a certain section of swamp. Those who neared those waters would be eaten, so the leech folk sought a way to avoid this fate. Their solution was to set out meat that they had already drained, using it as bait for the massive creature. When the Ghilani sought to travel these lands, they would throw out this bait to distract the leviathan. With this system, they successfully evaded being devoured and could cross these waters safely. Over time, though, they began to notice that the creature would start to show up earlier and earlier each time they baited it. Eventually, one hunting party arrived at the waters to find the creature patiently waiting for them, and it showed glee when it spotted them. Intrigued by this, they gathered food and the elders to come forth and try to communicate with the great beast. Eventually they discovered that this creature was not some mindless monster, but a sapient entity that called the swamp home. She had interpreted their bait as a gift, and thought that the Ghilani were just being nice guests to her land. With more discussion and food (long talks make her hungry), the two came to an understanding and formed a partnership that has lasted for decades.

In truth, there is no pact or blood contract, but a happy relationship between Ghilani and the great fish known as "Glanis." Now knowing that the Ghilani are not food, Glanis allows them to travel her lands and waters anytime they want. She will also keep an eye out for invaders or any who enter the swamp with foul intentions. Those who come with malice will be met with her maw, as she seeks to protect her friends and home. The greatest thing she does, though, is serve as a guardian and caretaker for their young. A special section of the swamp has been designated for their eggs and clutches. The Ghilani shall lay their eggs upon the roots, rocks and mud of this lake, and Glanis shall watch over them. This body of water is where she will spend most of her time, and it serves as the meeting place for when the Ghilani wish to visit her. With her presence, she will scare off any predators or invasive critters, while the movement of her massive body washes fresh water upon the eggs. When the eggs hatch and the larvae emerge, she shall continue to stand guard over them. She cares for the young she watches over and will do anything she can to help them if times get rough. If a drought occurs that dries out the shallows, she will take the young into her mouth and carry them to a more fitting pool. If famine happens to strike and the young are starving, she will let them latch onto her and feed on her blood. Due to her huge size, these feedings impact her quite little. With her help, the Ghilani village has had many successful clutches and many offspring who survive to adulthood. Due to her hand in raising the young, many Ghilani refer to her as "Old Mother Glanis." All this aid and care does not go unrewarded, as the Ghilani are sure to return the favor. Gifts of meat and other foodstuffs are brought to her, and hunters may flush prey towards her to give her an easy meal. As she is a guardian to them, the Ghilani also seek to protect her. Due to her large size and unique nature, there are some folk who see her as a hunting trophy or a quick way to fame. While she is no easy prey, the Ghilani are sure to keep watch for any "monster slayers" who are eager to kill a "god." The main thing they look for are large sources of food that may be set out as bait. Conveniently placed carcasses or piles of meat are usually a sign of a hunter trying to draw her out. Due to her size and appetite, Glanis will have a hard time passing up such meals, so the Ghilani make sure to find these sources and inspect them first. In some cases, they have found cow carcasses stuffed with poison, or some hunter hiding in the brush with harpoons at hand. If the food is safe and the coast is clear, she shall enjoy her meal, but if someone has come to slay her, that fool will be offered up instead. Not only do they seek to protect her from physical threats, but the village also makes sure to monitor her health. Monthly health check ups are performed, and their talents in the medical field have been a great boon to her. Injuries are cared for, parasites are removed and medicine is prescribed any time she is sick. There have even been some times when a Ghilani has slithered into her gullet to retrieve something that is upsetting her stomach (like a large antler or the armor of some idiot knight). While some may interpret these services as part of the deal, the Ghilani do all of this with love and respect. They see her as a blessing and they cherish her presence. If there is anything they can do to help her or make her happy, they will not hesitate to do so. This can be seen when Glanis is resting in the warm shallows, usually after she has eaten a big meal. During this time, villagers will come to play her music as she lays about and digests. She quite enjoys the sound of soft music, and the lovely tunes will often lull her to sleep. Glanis also likes to have company at times, especially when she is watching over the larval pool. Just having someone nearby is good enough for her, as she doesn't need conversation or worship. With this, some may bring crafts, books or other personal projects down to the shores and work on them as she watches. So far, no one has figured out what species Glanis belongs to, or how she wound up alone in this swamp. No other member of her kind has been found in the area, and she has not produced any offspring. Due to this, there are some who do believe that she may be some ancient entity or a god-like being, but the Ghilani do not currently hold this idea. They do, however, call her "Goddess of the Swamp" from time to time, but that is mainly because it makes her blush from all the flattery. ------------------------------------------------------------------ Some may recognize this fish lady from back in May when I did Mer-May and drew up a mermaid based on the Wels Catfish. On that piece LavenderYouko mentioned that she looked like she could be a massive guardian spirit and that idea stuck with me for a long time. As a developed the Ghilani, I realized that she would be perfect for them, so I decided to draw up this piece. So thanks to LavenderYouko for the idea!

#catfish #monster #creature #art #drawing #swamp #swamp monster #goddess #fish #leech #mermaid

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ravnica-rpg-resource · 6 years ago

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The Owlbear in Ravnica

Man is there a monster more classic than the owlbear?......... well Beholder, don't worry we'll get to them eventually.......but the owlbear! there is just something iconic about it that feels right, equal parts menacing and ridiculous! Let's talk about how you can put this adorably ferocious monstrosity into your Ravnica game!

The monster?

You can find the owlbear on page 249 of the fifth edition monster manual, but there first appearance in Dungeons & Dragons was in the greyhawk supplement for first edition D&D by Gary gygax himself!

Owlbears are described the as a massive bear standing at least 8 feet tall if not taller, in addition to the fur that coats there body they also have patches of feathers especially on their arms and Paws. Instead of the head of a bear they have the distinct face of an owl with piercing frontward facing eyes and a razor sharp beak!

These creatures are known to be aggressive, attacking anything that could be considered large enough to be a meal! Their preferred method of attack is to get their opponent into a bear hug and then tear them apart with their beak while in the embrace. Family units usually contain a mated pair, they raise their offspring until they are old enough to take care of themselves. Habitats are usually caves or other locations for a den such as dungeons or abandoned man-made structures.

The fun part about owlbears is that no one knows where they come from..... but everyone has their own story. Some will claim that owlbears are the result of a Mad Wizards experimentation, some claim that they are The Offspring of some strange forgotten Forest God, the dwarves tell scary stories of how a ancient group of dwarves got lost in the forest and were transformed into owlbears, but if you ask the elves they will tell you that they were brought over from the feywild of course. With so many conflicting answers and almost no proof any of these could be true......or all of them.

What colors would an Owlbear be?

I firmly believe that if they were to ever print an owl their card in Magic the Gathering it would be a green creature with trample!

they thrive in Woodland environments and seem to fit into nature quite well. as far as secondary colors? The red seems to fit the most, but depending on the backstory you want to go with any color works. If they are faithful guardians of nature perhaps give them a little white, scavengers and cruel opportunist hunters sounds black to me, adaptive experiments that got loose? make them simic! The owl bear can fit in any green aligned Guild!

How to fit an Owlbear into the lore?

I think the most important thing to keep when moving owlbears to Ravnica is the mystery of their origin. Make it fun! A mistake of polymorph magic that only got half of the transformation correct, a result of what happens when an two creatures enter one of the Cities more active leylines, or maybe a joke gone horribly wrong. Perhaps people claim that owlbears have always been around since before the signing of the guildpact!

I suggest having both wild and domesticated owlbears. Wild owlbear tend to stay on gruul turf and other abandoned parts of the city including the undercity and Wildlife Reserves. They make their home in abandoned buildings and hunt anything that wanders into their territory being one of the alpha predators of their food chains. Wild owl bears would be known for their ferocity and feared by those who find themselves all these outskirts of civilization in the city.

On the other hand due to their adorable nature I imagine “trained” owlbears would be a popular pet option. I imagine most people buy them for their children when the creatures are small and especially adorable not expecting them to grow into large lumbering beasts, this has resulted in many abandoned owlbears in highly residential areas. Abandoned owlbears turn to Scavenging through rubbish bins until large enough to cause issues usually resulting violent incidents and the Boros Legion being called. Those who properly train their owlbears find out that the creatures make excellent Guardians and beasts of Burden.

The Owlbear and the guilds?

In this part of the post I'm going to focus on the green Guilds of Ravnica since that's their main color, but just because the Guild does not have green and its color alignment does not mean that they can't have owlbears! Imagine a very successful azorius judge with a pet owlbear, or a member of the boros legion with a trained guard owlbear, if you want a ring of rakdos to do Pit fighting perhaps one of the Monsters they're holding to attack combatants is a hunger owlbear! But let's get on with the Green Guilds!

Gruul Clans

The gruul are the premier beastmasters of ravnica! they don't tame their Animal Companions they let them Thrive as they were meant to as primal and Savage as nature would allow. The Gruul would look at the owlbear as a representation of two of Nature's greatest Hunters the bear and the owl. The gruul would tell stories of how the owlbear is a relic from the old world a sister Spirit to the Raze-boar’s offspring that should be respected.

The subgroup of the Gruul the Zhur-Taa clan would train these savage beast as hunting companions, having ones skull on your outfit would be a sign that you were a great warrior. Perhaps a coming of age ritual of the Gruul could be going off to find a lair of a owlbear and bringing something back the bigger the trophy the more respect it brings. The trophy can be anything such as the bones from the owlbear’s last meal, the head of the Beast itself which you fought and killed or the owlbear accompanying you as a companion whom you would gain the respect of!

Selesnya Conclave

The selesnya tell a story about the origins of the owlbear, in their story the creator of these beasts was Mat'Selesnya herself. Back just after the signing of the guildpact when the world tree was still just a sapling Mat'Selesnya created them for her domain. noble sage like beasts to protect The Guild these were the first owlbears, These stories say that these owlbears were sentient druids who knew the old ways of nature magic. Their offspring unfortunately we're not intelligent, all owl bears are descended from these progenitors it is said.

No matter if the story is true the selesnya hold the owlbear in high regard, it is not uncommon for one to be allowed to inhabit a selesnya gardens or sanctuaries if one does it is treated as a member of the conclave. It is not a uncommon sight to see a selesnya trained battle owlbear covered in armor, they fight beside a bonded selesnya Warrior for the honor of the conclave.

Simic Combine

Many trace the origin of the owlbear back to an experiment before the dissension that shatter the guildpact by the original Simic. The experiment in question case file 0-l7w, its original purpose was to create a more sturdy, strong, but intelligent Beast of Burden for the merchant District. There seems to have been an accident and when simic guards were able to reach the laboratory it had already been torn apart, scientists have been viciously attacked and the experiment was nowhere to be found.

Some people point to a rare deformity that occasionally appears on owlbear hide when trying to connect the owlbear to the simic, this deformity looks like a patch of scales like that of fish and lizards. many members of the combine claim that this is a result of the current experiments that they do on owlbear and cite the lack of evidence that they are responsible for the creatures creation. Responsible or not the simic view the owlbear as an interesting creature and research it in hopes of using it to help create better krasis.

Golgari Swarm

On The Fringe of civilization where the city meets the undercity many owlbears have adapted to life as scavengers eating both meat and fungus. The Golgari view these creatures as nothing more than a part of the circle of life and while the creatures are living pay them little heed other than as another scavenger that lurks The Rot Farms. Occasionally a particularly aggressive owlbear has to be dealt with by the swarm, but it is not until an owl joins the Rot that the Golgari truly welcomes them to the Swarm.

Undead owlbear make for excellent guards for the rot Farms, they're large foreboding frame keeps away those who would want to steal from the Swarm. Even though dead their Brute Force remains making them excellent Beast of Burden in their reanimated state. As the Swarm does not actively raise owlbears the reanimated ones are either those who passed away of natural causes or those killed in conflict with the Swarm.

The way I plan on using them!

Let's review what we just talked about and put it together in a coherent little text blurb. Owlbear away!

“The owl bear is an aggressive predator that lurks on the outskirts of the city and the undercity places where civilization has a hard time taking a foothold. They are massive creatures standing 8 feet tall, but record show that can get much more larger. Owlbears have large Bear like bodies with the heads and talons of owls. this creatures preferred manner of attack is holding down its opponents in a form of bear hug and then using their sharp beaks to rip away at their prey. Owlbear territories are usually defended by a mated pair and will consume anything larger than a mouse.

The origin of the owl there perhaps just as odd as the creature itself as no one quite agree where they came from. Stories of a failed simic experiment are sometimes told, while others claim them to be manifestations of the ancient spirits of Ravnica long forgotten when the city was built. Some popular explanations are as follows, an izzet teleportation experiment gone horribly horribly wrong, creations of some powerful entity(some say the Nephilim others Mat’Selesnya and still others spawn of Utmungr the raze boar) as Protectors of nature and others claim that they existed long before the city was built. It is a common game for young children to try to tell the best story about the origin of owlbears whoever can tell the best most Outlandish story wins!

It's a recent trend that owlbear cubs have become highly sought-after pets. The adorable Cubs are usually bought when they're still small and manageable by owners that do not expect them grow as quickly or as large as they eventually do. An owlbear when trained properly make for excellent guards and loyal family pets, but due to their size food and upkeep can be rather expensive for these creatures. Unfortunately many owlbears are abandoned by their owners when they become to unwieldy to keep as house pets, many of these owners simply kick these creatures to the streets where they have to fend for themselves as scavengers eating the garbage of highly populated areas. it is unfortunate truth that I released owlbears are more likely to attack humans than a wild owlbears due to desperation for food. The Boros have teamed up with the selesnya in hopes of catching strays before it becomes too late, under the care of the selesnya they are taken care of and trained to be guard animals or simply released back into the wild where these majestic creatures belong.”

Thanks for reading this was a fun one! On Saturday I'm going to post a review of the week and quick links to all of my articles. As always if there is a creature from the monster manual that you want to see fit into Ravnica or a card from the magic the Gathering game from a ravnica set find a stat black message me and I'll see what I can do.

#mtg #ravnica #guildmaster's guide to ravnica #magic the gathering #Dungeons and Dragons #d&d 5e #The ... In Ravnica #in Ravnica #owlbear #Simic Combine #Selesnya Conclave #gruul clans #Golgari Swarm

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fan-clan-fun · 5 years ago

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Sycamore-

A character that I’ve been touching up, for my Illinois FanClans! I really like her, and i’m excited :) feel free to give me your thoughts on her!

Awesome! I’ll give you any suggestions if I have any!

I made her using Paleclaw’s cat generator. Here she is!!

Name: Sycamore- (suffix pending)

Previous Names: Sycamoresprout, Sycamoreseed

Age: 26 moons

Appearance: Sycamore- is a short molly with an average-width face and muzzle and is fairly muscular. Her fur is short, yet thick; enough to protect her when it’s cold but not thick enough that she will risk overheating in the warmer moons. Her eyes are a dull copper and are close set in shape. Sycamore- is a blue-and-cream calico, with tuxedo markings.

Personality: Sycamore- is more quiet than the rest of her family; however, that doesn’t make her meek. She has inherited her mother’s cleverness and deduction, though she is a bit more quiet about it; she’s thoughtful, preferring to study things first and then making a decision based on the information she’s collected; she pays attention to the greater details. Sycamore hungers for knowledge and always wants to know more; that being said, Sycamore- is not ambitious in the way one might think; she has no desire to be leader or deputy, and simply wants to serve her Clan as best she can; to her, this requires learning much of the world and territory around her, as well as about the other Clans. As a kitten, she would often ask a lot of questions, and once she got her answer, she would simply think about it in solitude, wondering why things were the way they were. She’s good in social situations, being polite and thoughtful, always one to consider her next move or the word she’s about to say. In a way, she can be a bit manipulative at times, using her lack of intimidation to get things others might not. She’s considered to be good looking and as a result, she’s collected a lot of admirers now that she’s a warrior - much to her chagrin. She likes to watch birds and is quite good at hunting them. While she loves her family, sometimes she feels overshadowed by their great deeds and desperately wants to prove her worth in the Clan. She likes to sleep in the sun, and loves listening to stories about the past. Her greatest fear is drowning; she often has nightmares about this.

I really love Sycamore’s personality. She’s quiet but not to the point of being terrible in social situations which is what people usually put together. I appreciate that others in her clan still like her and she has her own admirers, but she isnt arrogant or ambitious. Overall she seems quite developed, with a few fun little quirks, not shallow or a caricature.

Clan: MarshClan

Rank: Warrior

Family:

-Mother, Foxstep. Foxstep is a blue-and-cream mackerel torbie molly with dark hazel eyes, short fur and white feet. Like her namesake, she was cunning, sneaky, and light-footed. She was known for getting into mischief as a kit and had a lot of energy, which often saw her in trouble. She was quite clever, and great at deduction, proving herself to be adaptable and pragmatic, as well as a good hunter. Now that she’s older, she’s calmed down somewhat, energy-wise, but she still enjoys a good harmless prank now and again and serves as her daughter’s biggest supporter. Silverstream left a moon after Sycamore- was born, and Foxstep plans to give him a good smack across the nose if he ever shows his face around her again. She enjoys telling small lies for fun, and she and Tawnyflower often get into fun little debates over certain topics. She qualified for the -tail suffix, but requested -step instead.

I love this description! She perfectly fits the -step suffix!

-Biological Father, Silverstream. Silverstream was a handsome silver classic tabby tom with white feet, long fur and hazel eyes. He joined MarshClan after several meetings with Foxstep. He proved himself to be quite the swimmer, and brought back many fish to MarshClan, along with being a good hunter - he and Foxstep often teamed up and during a particularly harsh winter, the two of them brought back decent amounts of prey which was invaluable to MarshClan. Silverstream was a kind tom, who cared for his mate, yet he could sometimes come off as distant. It took him awhile to adapt to Clan life, and during one foggy morning (after Foxstep told him she was pregnant with his kits), he set off into the marshes and has yet to be seen again. No one knows where he went though some theorize he returned to his loner roots.

Curious about his history, it honestly sounds like he met his untimely end somewhere past the territory. From his description it doesnt sound like he would abandon his family. Sad :(

-Cousin, Lightningclaw. Lightningclaw is a semi-foreign epistatic white cat with long, sleek fur, orange eyes and a fluffy tail. Lightningclaw is a very proud cat, and can come off as a bit vain. Being a -claw, they are brilliant at fighting and have trained several apprentices in battle training. They are good on the battlefield, not so much when it comes to social relations. Lightningclaw is actually good at listening to others plights, and will sit with a Clanmate and listen to their struggles. Even if they doesn’t have the right words to comfort, just having someone to listen to is enough, for some cats. Lightningclaw has several idols in the Clan, one of which is Foxstep. They admire her wit, her cunning, her dedication… The two grew up together, with Foxstep being a moon or so older than Lightningclaw. She quickly roped them into her friend group and made them feel wanted; after Foxstep saved Lightningclaw from a surprise attack during a raid on the Snakerocks, the crush they had been nursing privately on her grew, and they confessed. Foxstep gently turned them down, and they remained good friends with each other. When Silverstream left Foxstep and a then kit Sycamore-, Lightningclaw stepped up and offered to become a parental figure for the molly. Foxstep agreed and the two worked together to raise Sycamore-. Lightningclaw is more of a cousin than a parent, which they both enjoy.

Aww this is super cute, Lightningclaw seems nice. Its good to see other cats taking a role in raising a kit, especially considering that in canon not even the dads do anything. Its always nice to see multiple cats taking an interest in raising the kits of the clan.

-Aunt, Tawnyflower. Tawnyflower is a large, sleek and muscular amber classic tabby tortoiseshell molly with deep green eyes, long fur and a few scars. Younger sister of Foxstep, she was born a few moons after Sycamore- and the two grew up in the nursery together, and became very close. Aside from Foxstep, Tawnyflower is Sycamore-’s closest confident, and the two can often be seen sharing tongues and going out on patrols together. Tawnyflower is a very gregarious molly, and loves being surrounded by friends and family - she believes that everyone should have a good support system, and if they do not have one, Tawnyflower will gladly take them into her family. She adores kits too and is particularly brilliant at looking at them, giving the queens a welcome respite from being tumbled over and ear-pulling of rambunctious kits. Cannot lie to save her life, she prefers to tell the honest truth, and loves exploring every nook and cranny of camp, as well as outside. Lately, she’s been spending more time with another molly named Yarrowfur, an epistatic white molly with odd eyes.

Lovely, I am a fan of ambers and lesbian babs.

-Grandfather, Brokentail, formerly Stormclaw. Brokentail is a dark blue classic tabby cat with a white belly, long fur and amber eyes. Previously holding the title of Deputy, they soon stepped down after Foxstep had Sycamore-, wanting to spend the rest of their time with slowly expanding family. In their prime, they were a well-respected warrior, leading their Clan into several battles and at one point, rose to the rank of battle tactician. They were known for being calm in battle, yet ruthless and their attention to detail in battle led their clan to many victories. Now, older and wiser, Brokentail is a highly sought out storyteller, and is calm, yet still holds a stubborn streak. Brokentail (then Stormclaw) has never been great at running, as just a few miles can make them have trouble breathing. During the spring, their allergies flare up and sneezes can be heard from the elder’s den, much to their embarrassment. Stormclaw’s tail was crushed in an accident and after much deliberation, they took the name Brokentail. They wear their new name with pride, and are often sought after for advice from Clanmates. Their mate is Ryeheart.

Yesss reclaiming and re purposing a misused name from canon. I love this, he sounds like a good old man.

-Grandfather, Ryeheart. Ryeheart is a large tom with long fur and hazel eyes. His fur is a warm golden-brown, and he is one of the rare cats in the clan that bears the Amber gene, thanks to some house pet ancestry in his bloodline. Ryeheart is brave and headstrong, and doesn’t back down from a challenge, which would explain the numerous scars that criss-cross his face and ears. He wears them with pride and will gladly give a story about how he earned them to the apprentices and kits that visit - though, some of the older cats have noticed that everytime he tells a story of how he received a scar, it changes every time, getting wilder and more questionable. Regardless, he loves telling stories almost as much as his mate, and the two will often compete to see who can tell a story best. He adores his daughters and still now will brag about their accomplishment to the other elders at Gathering time. He wishes the best for his granddaughter, and while he may not offer the steadfast advice of Brokentail, he does care in his own way and will say so in his own way. (so he’d p much be warrior male “train and fight!! Solve your problems head on!!”)

Sycamore has a lovely supportive family! Its a pity she feels pressured to live up to their legacy.

Extra:

-Sycamore-’s suffix is pending. I’m not sure what to make it, i’m working on it.

-She’s very close with her family, but at times, feels pressure to live up to (what she considers to be) great expectations.

-Is attracted to darker pelts. Lighter pelts hold no value to her.

-Originally, she started out as an AU re-working of Silverstream of RiverClan, but in the short time i’ve spent with her, she’s moving away from that and i’m excited to see where she goes.

I like these fun little quirks, and I love the idea of taking a canon character who’s story you werent happy with and reworking it, but its even better when that turns into your own story.

-I plan for her to be in a inter-clan relationship; she meets a ForestClan warrior (who’s a blue smoke polydactly tom; haven’t named them yet, but I’m leaning towards Cranestorm or Birchstorm) and at first, is cautious and a bit shy, but after they spend some time together, she starts to open up and they become friends. At first, she’s worried about being caught, but finds that she likes breaking the rules and wants to lead her own path, separate from her family and so goes along with it eagerly as time progresses. She and her mate end up being discovered by the seer of ForestClan who tells them this is a bad idea. They both ignore him, and eventually, they have kittens. Both Clans assume that the blue smoke warrior and her just simply had a mating for new blood only, but are surprised when he wants to move to MarshClan. He does, and the two become betrothed to each other (something else I’m trying out for this. If two cats of different clans have kits, one can move to the other’s clan, and then they become betrothed; in the past, this was used as a way to somewhat control inter-clan relationships if they were truly serious, but it’s since died down when the story starts.)

This seems like a very mature way to handle an interclan relationship. There is some drama and secrecy, but in the end, they make the decision to be together and it doesnt sound like it ends in tragedy. Im very tired of interclan romances that end in tragedy or go on forever instead of just making a solid decision, so this is a breath of fresh air.

-Sycamore- is a very picky eater. She also collects bones and has a little collection of them she’s built up over the moons.

- Her mentor was Crowcloud, a black tom with lemon yellow eyes and a torn ear. He was patient and became like a second father to Sycamore-; the two are still close even now, and often go hunting together.

I dont know why, but Crowcloud has a lovely ring to it.

Anyway! Thank you for the submission! She is a lovely character!

#warrior cats #warriors OC #submission

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