Post by Toksyc on Mar 2, 2006 17:23:18 GMT -5
Authors note: Please keep in mind I'm not the best writer. I suck at making stories so this may sound all stupid and make little sense. It would be better in comic form. but - this is just to give an idea where the RP needs to be going.
Chapter 1: The Time Before Time
Long ago, in a time before ours, there existed a great many lands dominated by beasts rather than by Man. Imagine the days when the human first made it’s appreance among the other Prehistoric mammals of Earth. In those days, Humans were the endangered species, with frightening, powerful beats far outnumbering them. In this world, humans have taken longer to evolve: Two million years, to be exact. The world we know was populated with the last of the Neanderthal, a cousin down the evolutionary chain related to “modern” day homosapiens.
Beasts, so large that by today’s standards they might be considered Gods or Titans, roamed freely and contently. We will focus on just one little landmass with its own population of beasts and their struggle to survive alongside with this new breed of primates: Man. This land is what we now call the central-Eastern United States. However, to the massive wolves and sabers, this place is called Ruritia.
In Ruritia, there are three packs of wolves and two established sabre prides.
Nomadic humans settled down in this area along with their hybrid wolf-dogs. Over the years, and through selective breeding, these dogs and men created their own breeds and races. For now, we’ll concentrate on the time before these two-legged creatures came to Ruritia.
It was a time of tension… and of war.
The Aryian wolves were the most respected of the three packs. They had the best lands and the strongest, most stable hierarchy.
Bloodbacks were wolves that lived in the mountains that bordered the Aryian forest. The pack had split into two: Those who constantly provoked war within the pack, known as Whitebacks, and everyone else. The Whitebacks succeeded in their constant provocation, and war broke out.
It all began as an offspring versus parent rivalry.
Chapter 2: The Whiteback’s War
Kamot and Scialis were twins. They were born amongst the third-generation, which meant that their grandparents were the once-nomadic wolves who had made the lands of Ruritia their home. The twins were born with a rare genetic mutation which made their pelts considerably lighter, and instead of the dark-brown and/or sorrel coloring common to the coloring of the Bloodback’s backs, theirs were white and varying shades of grey.
As the twins grew older, they started to disagree with their family in the Bloodback mountains. Soon, other discontent pack members started to join in the brewing rivalry headed by Kamot and Scialis. This dissident group called themselves the Whitebacks.
Within two years, the rivalry escalated into a full-out war. Most oft he younger generations of Bloodbacks joined with the Whitebacks. The twins had found mates and had created their own breed of hateful wolves.
It wasn’t until the Aryians joined their Bloodback friends that the bloodshed began to end. Eventually, the Whitebacks were pushed higher and higher into the mountains. Yalo, the Aryian Alpha male, finally took out one of the brothers who had lead the vicious war. Once Scialis was gone, Kamot surrendered woefully. The Bloodbacks and Aryians ordered the Whitebacks to stay in the inhospitable high-grounds of the mountains, away from the other packs.
Finally, the killing was over. The Whitebacks had ruthlessly murdered the pups of the Bloodback’s last two seasons. It took another two years of healing, rest, and nurturing before everything was back to normal. The story of the Great War was told to many generations of pups afterward, so that it would never be forgotten.
Before his time was over, however, Kamot felt he had to make one final stand. Carefully, the old wolf snuck down the mountains into the Aryian forest. The first two lone females he came across, he attacked and impregnanted. The cries of the violated females and the sounds of the struggle alerted the others. Almost immediately Kamot went down, and went down feeling that this last attack had been a success. He died proud.
In the bellies of the two females he had attacked, masses of pure Hate were forming. When the time came for the females to birth their pups, not only were they ashamed, but the Aryian pack did not want the impurity of Kamot’s spawn within their lands. The two females were ordered to trek into the Skyview Wastelands to birth the devils, then to leave them behind and return home.
They both did just that.
Sabres, who had managed to move into the Savannah Lands unbeknownst to the wolves, caught the scent of the new born pups.
Chapter 3: A New Breed of Hate
Ironfang and Roumeg had lived side-by-side as long as they could remember. Neither liked the other, but they depended on each other. Roumeg discovered the pups literally baking out in the hot sun of the savannah. Half of the twelve that had been born were dead. Those, the sabers ate.
“Wait,” said one, staring at those pups still squirming with life. “We could use these against their own kind.” The plan was ironed out and agreed upon. The six pups that remained were taken back to the pride and fed from the lead female. The pups grew into vicious, cold-blooded killers in no time, spending their lives being taught by the sabres. They learned the fighting methods of their sabre foster family. With the highly nutritional milk provided by the large felines, these wolves grew large and strong. The climate of their savannah home still bothered them, however. It was time to leave.
Goodbyes were said to Roumeg and then the new, massive wolves were off to find their own piece of land to call home. The Aryians were the first to find out about their existence.
On patrol, one of the Aryian guardians was slaughtered. Where his blood splattered marked the front lines of the new wolves’ territory. These killer-wolves dubbed themselves The Chicotah.
Chicotahs became a feared race. Every wolf stayed clear of them if possible. A small war broke out between the Chicotah and the Aryians after the Aryians discovered who the Chicotah really were and where they came from. After only two Chicotah managed to take out six of the Aryian’s best warriors, the Aryians surrendered and drew back their territory lines, moving away from the fearsome killers.
Chapter 3: Rising Tension
The years went by. Five years, a decade, a century, two millennia…
Things have not changed much. Rivalries are common as enemies move closer to each other. Now, a two-legged creature has moved in, only increasing the tension between the already stressed packs. There is something in the air, something that weighs heavily on the respective minds of the pack members. Trouble is brewing—Everyone knows it.
“Do you hear that?” Rouch’s ears perked to the sound of howling in the distance.
“I hear it,” replied Cronic.
The Chicotah were howling up a challenge to their Aryian rivals. Rouch, the Beta male, and Cronic, the Alpha male, tried their best to ignore it. The two were on patrol that night.
“They’ve been challenging us quite a bit lately,” Rouch said, his ears laying back against his skull.
“Verbally. They know Breakbone and his pack will defend us.”
Cronic usually showed no fear. He was a confident alpha, consistently demonstrating his bravery to his pack. Aryian had lacked a leader like him for a long time.
“I have never seen the Bloodbacks fight. How can you be so sure?” asked Rouch.
“They have been our Allies from the beginning. The Bloodbacks have never failed us. You would be wise to remember that as my Beta.” Cronic glared at him slightly. Silently, Rouch nodded and lowered his posture to a more submissive one.
“Thunder!” growled Cronic.
“Flash! Don’t attack, it is your Bloodback friend…” sounded a voice from within the darkness. The owner of the voice stepped forward and Cronic relaxed.
“Pisca what are you doing here?” Although Pisca was a low-ranking member of the Bloodbacks, he was loyal, and well-known among his kin.
“I spotted two Chicotahs eyeing your boundaries. They were stalking the edges as though they were on a hunt. We’ve heard their challenges carried by the wind…” Pisca answered, his voice sounding troubled.
“No fear, my friend. You just keep looking out for us. Be well, and go along now.”
Pisca bowed before darting off into the night, back towards the mountains.
Chapter 4: Mysterious Ways
The two who had been spotted by Pisca now moseyed back to their own woodlands, snickering amongst eachother.
“Nice to you see you return alive. Schind, Sereniss,” said the large, scarred Chicotah alpha as they returned.
Schind was a warrior-male, and Sereniss was the warrior female. of the pack.
“Kein,” the two dipped their heads before moving past him. As they returned to the main clearing, they were instantly dragged into a fight, now between four pack members. Kein watched in amusement as his underlings tore into each other. More pack members gathered around. They yapped and yowled with sinister delight. Finally, it ended with a new omega being slammed into the ground, bloodied, and soon dead.
The victor stood with bloody jaws agape, snarling his victory.
Kein snorted. “Don’t get too excited, Beta Delgnat. Save your fighting spirit for the Aryians.”
Delgnat licked his chops and glared up to Kein. “Whatever.”
The wolves scattered into their shelters, and Delgnat kicked the dead omega’s body into the river they had been fighting next to. Once that was done, he began to clean his maw in the cold water.
“Soon, we attack. You are under my command, Delgnat. Do not forget that, or I will kill you where you stand,” Kein muttered as he passed his Beta, padding off to his own shelter.
“If you could, old wolf,” snorted the beta. Delgnat had other plans. Kein was going to fall, and Delgnat would rule. He didn’t care about the Aryians. They never bothered his pack. However, once Delgnat was the ruler of the Chicotahs, he wouldn’t just sit around and spy on them—He’d eliminate them.
Delgnat trudged off in his own direction, scheming silently to himself.
Chapter 5: War
It was the same old, boring life for the Roumeg Pride. However, they too were sensing this new change, and these new Man creatures had definitely sparked their interest: As a new food item, of course.
Falchion had taken up a good role in the Roumeg Pride. He was just a step under the supreme female, who kept her eyes close on the Chicotah. Falchion was one of the stealthiest of the Roumeg. Unlike the others, he was a built smaller than most sabres, with a spotted coat instead of solid patches. This new genetic mutation was starting to become common in Roumeg.
Falchion was unaware of the secret alliance between the Chicotah and Roumeg, and was always curious as to why Zimera watched the wolves which such an obsessive eye. He never asked, however. Perhaps to plan an attack? Perhaps she felt they wanted to take over the Sabre’s land? Who knew? Falchion was not prepared to ask such a question of his superior, it simply wasn’t his place.
Zeek and Maho returned from their hunt and each dropped a carcass. Zeek was dragging back and antelope-like animal. Maho, however, only managed to catch a rabbit. Food was food to the Roumeg and there was always plenty to scavenge if the hunting parties did not bring back enough.
Roumeg never really bothered with any of the wolves’ affairs. They kept to themselves and the Ironfang, who were equally secluded. Ironfang, however, watched out for the Aryians from afar, as well as the Bloodbacks. They rarely got involved in anything. The sabres would only interfere if they had good reason.
Falchion was becoming curious of the Man-creatures as well. They were expanding their territory and their stray dogs were starting to roam into the sabre’s lands. Though this offered more food for the pride, the mangy dogs were becoming a nuisance. Falchion planned to soon send Zeek, Maho, and himself into the Human territory and push them back a bit. Just a few kills to show them who was boss in these parts. Both Roumeg and Ironfang were getting sick of the humans sneaking around at night, stealing things from the carcasses of fallen pride members. They were tired of these odd creatures, period.
The humans were strange, and their packs did not function the way a pack should. They were just… wrong somehow. None of the beasts of Ruritia liked them much. They took too much land, and dug it all up just to toss seeds back in. Odd creatures, indeed.
Ironfang had also been spotting many Whitebacks sneaking down the mountain lately. Ziku, the lead male of Ironfang, did not suffer the Whitebacks well. There was an order to kill any that came close to the Ironfang territory.
“Are they planning something, Ziku?” piped his subordinate, Mauschae.
“It seems everyone is planning something. I hear the birds in the distance chattering about the tension. I feel war in my bones,” Ziku replied, twitching his ears.
“There hasn’t been a war for thousands of years! Why now?”
“Change, Mauschae. The world changes, but constantly repeats itself. This time, however, I believe the two-leggers will be involved. I would gladly fight against them.”
Mauschae nodded and gazed off into the distance. Off on the horizon, he could see the Roumeg sparring with one another. Mauschae didn’t want war. Perhaps he could do something about it…
Chapter 6: The New Age
Ziku was right, as he often was about his hunches. The large Sabre had a gift for sensing things. The war he felt comming had not yet struck, but soon after his talk with Mauschae, a small, civil type war broke out.
The Whitebacks, thinking they were brave enough, suddenly ambushed their Bloodback brothers without warning. It was a hard blow to Breakbone and his pack. Many turned against him and ran to the north, others ran south towards the safe Haven. It left the mountain pack with very few members, and with a hurt pride. Ontop of all of that, the eastern grooves of the Aryian forest started to flood as the great river overflowed even the mountains which kept it damed. The Aryians were split apart, and many were never seen or heard from again. that was a sad day all the packs remember.
Kein saw that their enemies were weakened by this, and thus ordered an attack upon them. But the tragedy left the Aryians on high guard, and it was an easy defeat for the Chicotah. Cronic would not allow anymore deaths in his pack, especially not by Kein's warriors.
Such fighting did not affect the Sabres in the grasslands miles away, though. They were safe, and benefited from the floods as it made their water source grow. But, these conflicts only made the tension rise, and the heavy sullen feeling an even thicker cloud that covered the lands.
Something far far away, across rivers and forests beyond their own, something bad was happening that was driving many other wolves and creatures from their homes and into Ruritia. Cronic could sense this, and so could Breakbone. It was a flood of new wolves, but something had driven them from their homes. It was even more dread, and more worry. Would this badness follow the wolves and come to their precious lands? Or would the war break out first, and the lands be soiled in blood?
Only time could tell... and the only thing anyone could do was wait.
And so, your story begins. Which side will you choose? Will you fan the flames of war, or try to stamp them out? Who will be your ally? Your enemy? Who will you be?
Thanks to Vette who typed this all out and edited it for me <3
Chapter 1: The Time Before Time
Long ago, in a time before ours, there existed a great many lands dominated by beasts rather than by Man. Imagine the days when the human first made it’s appreance among the other Prehistoric mammals of Earth. In those days, Humans were the endangered species, with frightening, powerful beats far outnumbering them. In this world, humans have taken longer to evolve: Two million years, to be exact. The world we know was populated with the last of the Neanderthal, a cousin down the evolutionary chain related to “modern” day homosapiens.
Beasts, so large that by today’s standards they might be considered Gods or Titans, roamed freely and contently. We will focus on just one little landmass with its own population of beasts and their struggle to survive alongside with this new breed of primates: Man. This land is what we now call the central-Eastern United States. However, to the massive wolves and sabers, this place is called Ruritia.
In Ruritia, there are three packs of wolves and two established sabre prides.
Nomadic humans settled down in this area along with their hybrid wolf-dogs. Over the years, and through selective breeding, these dogs and men created their own breeds and races. For now, we’ll concentrate on the time before these two-legged creatures came to Ruritia.
It was a time of tension… and of war.
The Aryian wolves were the most respected of the three packs. They had the best lands and the strongest, most stable hierarchy.
Bloodbacks were wolves that lived in the mountains that bordered the Aryian forest. The pack had split into two: Those who constantly provoked war within the pack, known as Whitebacks, and everyone else. The Whitebacks succeeded in their constant provocation, and war broke out.
It all began as an offspring versus parent rivalry.
Chapter 2: The Whiteback’s War
Kamot and Scialis were twins. They were born amongst the third-generation, which meant that their grandparents were the once-nomadic wolves who had made the lands of Ruritia their home. The twins were born with a rare genetic mutation which made their pelts considerably lighter, and instead of the dark-brown and/or sorrel coloring common to the coloring of the Bloodback’s backs, theirs were white and varying shades of grey.
As the twins grew older, they started to disagree with their family in the Bloodback mountains. Soon, other discontent pack members started to join in the brewing rivalry headed by Kamot and Scialis. This dissident group called themselves the Whitebacks.
Within two years, the rivalry escalated into a full-out war. Most oft he younger generations of Bloodbacks joined with the Whitebacks. The twins had found mates and had created their own breed of hateful wolves.
It wasn’t until the Aryians joined their Bloodback friends that the bloodshed began to end. Eventually, the Whitebacks were pushed higher and higher into the mountains. Yalo, the Aryian Alpha male, finally took out one of the brothers who had lead the vicious war. Once Scialis was gone, Kamot surrendered woefully. The Bloodbacks and Aryians ordered the Whitebacks to stay in the inhospitable high-grounds of the mountains, away from the other packs.
Finally, the killing was over. The Whitebacks had ruthlessly murdered the pups of the Bloodback’s last two seasons. It took another two years of healing, rest, and nurturing before everything was back to normal. The story of the Great War was told to many generations of pups afterward, so that it would never be forgotten.
Before his time was over, however, Kamot felt he had to make one final stand. Carefully, the old wolf snuck down the mountains into the Aryian forest. The first two lone females he came across, he attacked and impregnanted. The cries of the violated females and the sounds of the struggle alerted the others. Almost immediately Kamot went down, and went down feeling that this last attack had been a success. He died proud.
In the bellies of the two females he had attacked, masses of pure Hate were forming. When the time came for the females to birth their pups, not only were they ashamed, but the Aryian pack did not want the impurity of Kamot’s spawn within their lands. The two females were ordered to trek into the Skyview Wastelands to birth the devils, then to leave them behind and return home.
They both did just that.
Sabres, who had managed to move into the Savannah Lands unbeknownst to the wolves, caught the scent of the new born pups.
Chapter 3: A New Breed of Hate
Ironfang and Roumeg had lived side-by-side as long as they could remember. Neither liked the other, but they depended on each other. Roumeg discovered the pups literally baking out in the hot sun of the savannah. Half of the twelve that had been born were dead. Those, the sabers ate.
“Wait,” said one, staring at those pups still squirming with life. “We could use these against their own kind.” The plan was ironed out and agreed upon. The six pups that remained were taken back to the pride and fed from the lead female. The pups grew into vicious, cold-blooded killers in no time, spending their lives being taught by the sabres. They learned the fighting methods of their sabre foster family. With the highly nutritional milk provided by the large felines, these wolves grew large and strong. The climate of their savannah home still bothered them, however. It was time to leave.
Goodbyes were said to Roumeg and then the new, massive wolves were off to find their own piece of land to call home. The Aryians were the first to find out about their existence.
On patrol, one of the Aryian guardians was slaughtered. Where his blood splattered marked the front lines of the new wolves’ territory. These killer-wolves dubbed themselves The Chicotah.
Chicotahs became a feared race. Every wolf stayed clear of them if possible. A small war broke out between the Chicotah and the Aryians after the Aryians discovered who the Chicotah really were and where they came from. After only two Chicotah managed to take out six of the Aryian’s best warriors, the Aryians surrendered and drew back their territory lines, moving away from the fearsome killers.
Chapter 3: Rising Tension
The years went by. Five years, a decade, a century, two millennia…
Things have not changed much. Rivalries are common as enemies move closer to each other. Now, a two-legged creature has moved in, only increasing the tension between the already stressed packs. There is something in the air, something that weighs heavily on the respective minds of the pack members. Trouble is brewing—Everyone knows it.
“Do you hear that?” Rouch’s ears perked to the sound of howling in the distance.
“I hear it,” replied Cronic.
The Chicotah were howling up a challenge to their Aryian rivals. Rouch, the Beta male, and Cronic, the Alpha male, tried their best to ignore it. The two were on patrol that night.
“They’ve been challenging us quite a bit lately,” Rouch said, his ears laying back against his skull.
“Verbally. They know Breakbone and his pack will defend us.”
Cronic usually showed no fear. He was a confident alpha, consistently demonstrating his bravery to his pack. Aryian had lacked a leader like him for a long time.
“I have never seen the Bloodbacks fight. How can you be so sure?” asked Rouch.
“They have been our Allies from the beginning. The Bloodbacks have never failed us. You would be wise to remember that as my Beta.” Cronic glared at him slightly. Silently, Rouch nodded and lowered his posture to a more submissive one.
“Thunder!” growled Cronic.
“Flash! Don’t attack, it is your Bloodback friend…” sounded a voice from within the darkness. The owner of the voice stepped forward and Cronic relaxed.
“Pisca what are you doing here?” Although Pisca was a low-ranking member of the Bloodbacks, he was loyal, and well-known among his kin.
“I spotted two Chicotahs eyeing your boundaries. They were stalking the edges as though they were on a hunt. We’ve heard their challenges carried by the wind…” Pisca answered, his voice sounding troubled.
“No fear, my friend. You just keep looking out for us. Be well, and go along now.”
Pisca bowed before darting off into the night, back towards the mountains.
Chapter 4: Mysterious Ways
The two who had been spotted by Pisca now moseyed back to their own woodlands, snickering amongst eachother.
“Nice to you see you return alive. Schind, Sereniss,” said the large, scarred Chicotah alpha as they returned.
Schind was a warrior-male, and Sereniss was the warrior female. of the pack.
“Kein,” the two dipped their heads before moving past him. As they returned to the main clearing, they were instantly dragged into a fight, now between four pack members. Kein watched in amusement as his underlings tore into each other. More pack members gathered around. They yapped and yowled with sinister delight. Finally, it ended with a new omega being slammed into the ground, bloodied, and soon dead.
The victor stood with bloody jaws agape, snarling his victory.
Kein snorted. “Don’t get too excited, Beta Delgnat. Save your fighting spirit for the Aryians.”
Delgnat licked his chops and glared up to Kein. “Whatever.”
The wolves scattered into their shelters, and Delgnat kicked the dead omega’s body into the river they had been fighting next to. Once that was done, he began to clean his maw in the cold water.
“Soon, we attack. You are under my command, Delgnat. Do not forget that, or I will kill you where you stand,” Kein muttered as he passed his Beta, padding off to his own shelter.
“If you could, old wolf,” snorted the beta. Delgnat had other plans. Kein was going to fall, and Delgnat would rule. He didn’t care about the Aryians. They never bothered his pack. However, once Delgnat was the ruler of the Chicotahs, he wouldn’t just sit around and spy on them—He’d eliminate them.
Delgnat trudged off in his own direction, scheming silently to himself.
Chapter 5: War
It was the same old, boring life for the Roumeg Pride. However, they too were sensing this new change, and these new Man creatures had definitely sparked their interest: As a new food item, of course.
Falchion had taken up a good role in the Roumeg Pride. He was just a step under the supreme female, who kept her eyes close on the Chicotah. Falchion was one of the stealthiest of the Roumeg. Unlike the others, he was a built smaller than most sabres, with a spotted coat instead of solid patches. This new genetic mutation was starting to become common in Roumeg.
Falchion was unaware of the secret alliance between the Chicotah and Roumeg, and was always curious as to why Zimera watched the wolves which such an obsessive eye. He never asked, however. Perhaps to plan an attack? Perhaps she felt they wanted to take over the Sabre’s land? Who knew? Falchion was not prepared to ask such a question of his superior, it simply wasn’t his place.
Zeek and Maho returned from their hunt and each dropped a carcass. Zeek was dragging back and antelope-like animal. Maho, however, only managed to catch a rabbit. Food was food to the Roumeg and there was always plenty to scavenge if the hunting parties did not bring back enough.
Roumeg never really bothered with any of the wolves’ affairs. They kept to themselves and the Ironfang, who were equally secluded. Ironfang, however, watched out for the Aryians from afar, as well as the Bloodbacks. They rarely got involved in anything. The sabres would only interfere if they had good reason.
Falchion was becoming curious of the Man-creatures as well. They were expanding their territory and their stray dogs were starting to roam into the sabre’s lands. Though this offered more food for the pride, the mangy dogs were becoming a nuisance. Falchion planned to soon send Zeek, Maho, and himself into the Human territory and push them back a bit. Just a few kills to show them who was boss in these parts. Both Roumeg and Ironfang were getting sick of the humans sneaking around at night, stealing things from the carcasses of fallen pride members. They were tired of these odd creatures, period.
The humans were strange, and their packs did not function the way a pack should. They were just… wrong somehow. None of the beasts of Ruritia liked them much. They took too much land, and dug it all up just to toss seeds back in. Odd creatures, indeed.
Ironfang had also been spotting many Whitebacks sneaking down the mountain lately. Ziku, the lead male of Ironfang, did not suffer the Whitebacks well. There was an order to kill any that came close to the Ironfang territory.
“Are they planning something, Ziku?” piped his subordinate, Mauschae.
“It seems everyone is planning something. I hear the birds in the distance chattering about the tension. I feel war in my bones,” Ziku replied, twitching his ears.
“There hasn’t been a war for thousands of years! Why now?”
“Change, Mauschae. The world changes, but constantly repeats itself. This time, however, I believe the two-leggers will be involved. I would gladly fight against them.”
Mauschae nodded and gazed off into the distance. Off on the horizon, he could see the Roumeg sparring with one another. Mauschae didn’t want war. Perhaps he could do something about it…
Chapter 6: The New Age
Ziku was right, as he often was about his hunches. The large Sabre had a gift for sensing things. The war he felt comming had not yet struck, but soon after his talk with Mauschae, a small, civil type war broke out.
The Whitebacks, thinking they were brave enough, suddenly ambushed their Bloodback brothers without warning. It was a hard blow to Breakbone and his pack. Many turned against him and ran to the north, others ran south towards the safe Haven. It left the mountain pack with very few members, and with a hurt pride. Ontop of all of that, the eastern grooves of the Aryian forest started to flood as the great river overflowed even the mountains which kept it damed. The Aryians were split apart, and many were never seen or heard from again. that was a sad day all the packs remember.
Kein saw that their enemies were weakened by this, and thus ordered an attack upon them. But the tragedy left the Aryians on high guard, and it was an easy defeat for the Chicotah. Cronic would not allow anymore deaths in his pack, especially not by Kein's warriors.
Such fighting did not affect the Sabres in the grasslands miles away, though. They were safe, and benefited from the floods as it made their water source grow. But, these conflicts only made the tension rise, and the heavy sullen feeling an even thicker cloud that covered the lands.
Something far far away, across rivers and forests beyond their own, something bad was happening that was driving many other wolves and creatures from their homes and into Ruritia. Cronic could sense this, and so could Breakbone. It was a flood of new wolves, but something had driven them from their homes. It was even more dread, and more worry. Would this badness follow the wolves and come to their precious lands? Or would the war break out first, and the lands be soiled in blood?
Only time could tell... and the only thing anyone could do was wait.
And so, your story begins. Which side will you choose? Will you fan the flames of war, or try to stamp them out? Who will be your ally? Your enemy? Who will you be?
Thanks to Vette who typed this all out and edited it for me <3