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Neverwinter Forest night of the hunter - Printable Version

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night of the hunter - Five - April 28, 2015

For @Harlyn ! :3 Also, weird post is weird. xD

The afternoon was partially cloudy, the sunlight obscured for brief moments of time before the clouds passed and it would break through to shine once more. Though, this too remained brief. The Gladiator had been traveling for days venturing South, having finally convinced himself that Quetzalcoatl would not change her mind and come back for him. Of course she wouldn't. She was the Queen of the Amazon's — a tribe of women who did not need men but for selective purposes. For her to return to him (even if she wished too) ...well it would be against everything that made her an Amazon. Granting him his freedom had likely been thought of as a gift, a rarity in and of itself for the legendary Five, the Gladiator that had bested them all for not only the favor of the Queen but the favor of other women as well. The queue had seemed to be never ending; yet it was a gift that he did not want and found himself unable to return. With immeasurable amounts of frustration on his part. He'd been a slave for more than majority of his life, having only known the life of the world outside of the arena and Coatl's Rise for a very brief handful of months after his birth. What was he supposed to do with it? Aside from carry out Quetzalcoatl's command? Watch over their son — a son that did not even remember her or his true culture. How? For the first time in a long time, Five allowed eyes of moss green to glimpse heavenward, wondering if the Gods were really up there? If they were they had been silent for such a long time. Five did not want to become another complication in Tezcacoatl's life, so he ventured south, away from he lands that they boy frequented.

Five could not disobey his Domina, but neither could he fully carry out her desire in the manner she had no doubt meant. It was similar to how he could be free, but also not free. For too long he'd been a slave, his only shot at glory being in the moments of life and death during the Primus Games. He felt lost.

Pushing his way towards the heart of Neverwinter Forest, Five's place slowed as he mulled over his options — not for the first time. He'd passed numerous packs on his course to head further south, though he had not sought a single out, not even to see if there was any potential. He felt like a caged panther, unable to settle down but knowing that senseless pacing was not doing him any sort of favors. For now, the Gladiator decided, he would stay here and slowly coax himself into making a decision in regards to a pack; yet his denial that he no longer held a place more corporeal than legend in Coatl's Rise made it hard for him to come to any sort of useful decision.


RE: night of the hunter - Harlyn - April 30, 2015

Lol weird post is awesome :p

It wasn't too often that Harlyn separated herself from Mordecai's side on their journey, but every so often the pair would split up to do a little wandering on their own.  That afternoon was one of those times as the Ostrega went off to track a scent of some small game that had intoxicated him and Harlyn had left him to it.  He was a gamekeeper and a hunter, and while the Cinderloch carried those qualities innately, she was far more the naturalist type wanting to explore the thick forest in which she now wandered.

It wasn't too long in her wanderings that she caught the scent of another wolf, and it was towards the stranger that she steered herself once the discovery had been made.  Though usually a very attentive creature, Harlyn's senses were too busy working to track him down to notice when her path lead her to a place where she was unwelcome.  The deadly hiss of a rattle stopped her dead in her tracks the moment it reached her ears.  Her breath froze in her lungs as her eyes went wide.  In seconds, her nose and ears had lead her to the spot where the snake was coiled in the underbrush, barely visible as it so well blended in with the forest around it.  It was barely a foot away from where she stood, glaring at her as it shook its tail threateningly.

Harlyn was not a wolf to panic luckily, and thus she remained still and calm as she stared at the angry creature.  Her flight instinct told her to run, but she was well aware that any sudden movements would mean she was going to spend the remainder of her life with venom coursing through her bloodstream - and it wouldn't be a long life at that.


RE: night of the hunter - Five - April 30, 2015

lol, thanks. :p

Mulling over what was inevitable was never Five's favorite thing to do, not to mention not an overly great trait for a Gladiator. Death was the only thing that awaited them, in the end. Sure, there would be glory if one was good enough of that there was no doubt, but everyone's streak ran out like a countdown. It would reach the end and what was left was death. Except, Five would rather mull over death than the decision of deciding something as simple and foreign as a pack. A home he could not call it, his place was with the other slaves in Coatl's Rise no matter what term Quetzalcoatl had fitted him and shooed him away with, trusting that his unwillingness to disobey her would be enough to keep him away. It vexed him that the assumption was correct. Using one of his greatest assets against him: his loyalty to her. His love for her, forbidden as it was. Five didn't care. He was already tortured, broken beyond repair. What was a unrequited and forbidden love in retrospect to the beatings? To the punishments he had received when he rebelled? Nothing. There was little that could measure up to what the amazon women had done to him as a child. Putrid hatred had morphed into nothing short of utmost devotion and loyalty. Things that Five was struggling with the concept of turning off in the face of his unwanted freedom — least of all in the face of actually attempting it, if that point ever managed to come.

A strange albeit not unfamiliar noise caught the Gladiator's attention — the warning rattle of a rattlesnake's tail. Five froze, for a second thinking that it was he in the immediate face of the danger; but the noise came a small distance off of him, and a quick glance around showed him that there were no signs of danger. For him. Following the origin of the sound to the scene, he paused, steps slowing as eyes of moss green landed upon the wolf frozen, and the rattlesnake she had incidentally Five assumed, roused. He could not claim that he'd ever came face to face with a venemous creature before, but he'd heard stories and was mildly surprised to see that the female had not fled — a good sign. Point him in the direction of another wolf with the command to kill and Five would do so without hesitation; yet pit him against a rattlesnake and he hesitated though this was only because he had no idea how to save her. He did not know if she remained still if it would grow disinterested, or if distracting it was the best course of action. Slowly, he began to near, hoping to lure the snake's attention away from the female without outright startling it for the fear that if he did, the snake might lunge at the female.


RE: night of the hunter - Harlyn - May 01, 2015

When the stranger approached, Harlyn registered him only with scent and sound.  Her eyes remained glued to the snake, not wanting to miss the slightest flinch that might betray its intention to strike at her.  She could hear the male step slowly towards them.  It was then that she did begin to worry, for she knew enough about the natural world to know that snakes paid attention to movement.  Being a wolf she didn't understand the science behind it, that the deadly reptile located things by sensing the vibrations in the ground, but that wasn't important.  It was enough that she knew the danger to her was ebbing away, but growing for the stranger.

Another harsh stream of rattles sounded from the snakes ever trembling tail tip and suddenly it was angling its head away from Harlyn and towards the stranger.  Harlyn took the opportunity to back steadily and slowly away.  Her gaze finally flickered from the snake to the other wolf who she was quietly praying too would back away now that she was able to slip further out of harm's way.


RE: night of the hunter - Five - May 02, 2015

Five's gaze did not raise from the snake as it's head turned in his direction and it's attention became effectively transferred from the woman to him. It's rattle rose and it vibrated, giving it's warning with nothing short of intent. Moss green eyes locked studiously upon the serpent as it faced him, beady black eyes like abysses. There was no honor in an easy death, but surely there was some sort of honor in protecting another with his life. Could the Gods, previously so silent for him, find honor in that? It had been beaten into him by the Amazon women that the only honor for a slave was dying in the arena as a Gladiator. Sourly, Five wished that Quetzalcoatl was there (at a safe distance of course) so that she might see what he thought of her supposed gift. Freedom. Such a word was a waste of breath upon him. He had not asked to be taken as a small child and sold to the tribe of Coatl's Rise, and in an ironic turn of events he had not been asked to be set free. He had been content to live and die by the sword, to be the Queen's champion until he, himself, was defeated. He had been content to give her strong daughters as a prize for his victory as her season neared; happy even. The Gods had wanted to shit upon him, he thought, and so they had. Perhaps slaves were never meant to be happy. 

Despite that protecting the stranger was certainly honorable, she was now backed out of harm's way and to throw himself into the reach of the serpent's fangs was cowardly. It was a coward's death, and Five was no coward. Slowly, the Gladiator backed away from the serpent, keeping his eyes locked upon it to see if it would follow. It did not, and when he felt that he'd reached a safe distance, Five made towards the stranger, giving the serpent a wide birth. “Are you alright?” He inquired.


RE: night of the hunter - Harlyn - May 04, 2015

For a moment, it seemed as though the stranger was not going to back down from the snake - like he was planning to try and kill the thing.  Harlyn swallowed the nervous lump that rose in her throat at the though.  First off, it was not a fight that she anticipated he would one.  Secondly, if he did, then he would be needlessly murdering another child of the earth.  Both were results that she did not approve of.


Fortunately, the large wolf moved away just as steadily and cautiously as she had.  Harlyn felt her heart beginning to beat again and she closed her eyes as she sucked in a deep, cleansing breath.  Quietly, she moved even further away from the snake and it's nest with the stranger following in her wake.  By the time they stopped, the deadly rattle had ceased and Harlyn could truly relax.

"I'm fine, thank the gods," Harlyn said with a sigh before fixing her gaze upon the stranger's slate grey face, "And thanks to you as well.  You didn't have to step in - you are a selfless, courageous creature."


RE: night of the hunter - Five - May 08, 2015

As soon as Five was clear of the venomous serpent, lulled back into a peaceful coil once more confident that the two intruders would not return near it, he paused in his steps towards the woman, a momentary lapse between his stride to cast a look towards it to ascertain that it was content; and also to ponder what might have become of him would he have chosen to confront the creature as opposed to peacefully backing away into safety. This lasted for but a few seconds before his attention fell back upon his companion, his approach neutral, not sure how she might react to him. These southern wolves were so different from the wolves that occupied the Tlapetlanti Valley, and what he had came to suspect from the northern wolves when he was set out upon Quetzalcoatl's orders was disregarded. Five was not sure if he was to expect hostility, or friendliness; or perhaps some varying shade of gray. 

Nicked ear flickered towards the woman as she spoke, breathing a sigh of relief, thanking Gods — though she did not specify which Gods. Five, for a brief moment, was tempted to inquire but bit lightly down on his tongue to stop himself before the words could pass through his lips. Perhaps she was not an Amazon but she was a woman and the teachings of the Amazon did not discriminate against pack. Only gender. As his companion was a female she was to be treated like he would treat any of the Coatl Rise's women. Five's eyes of moss green remained lowered when she spoke, his stance almost submissive (without actually going into full submission). He was not selfless, though the Gladiator did not expect her t know that. “I was only doing what is expected of me,” To give his life to preserve the superior gender so that more strong women could be born. It had not came to the extreme of life and death but even so; approaching the serpent had not been much of a thought. His minor hesitation warranted punishment but Five did not expect to ask her to deliver it. “I am hardly selfless." He would have addressed her as Domina but she was not his Queen and only Quetzalcoatl would ever be his true Domina.


RE: night of the hunter - Harlyn - May 08, 2015

The male's response was humble, but more than that, it was intriguing to the Cinderloch.  He considered facing off against a venomous snake to save a complete stranger to be expected of him?  She smiled faintly at him and shook her head.  "With every expectation, there is the opportunity to decide," she replied, "You can meet them, exceed them, or abandon them entirely.  There is always a choice.  Yours was to exceed, and for that I am thankful."


RE: night of the hunter - Five - May 09, 2015

Perhaps, the once-Roman considered, there was merit to her words. He had been molded, tempered to think only one way: exactly how the Amazon women had wanted their Gladiators... their slaves to think. To give his life for them — not that the Amazon women needed protectors, the truth of it was hardly so romantic, but even so in the face of immediate danger that they would not be able to get themselves out of without their death, it was the duty of the men of the Rise to step into danger's path and give their life so that the women might live on. To think that there had been choice in such a thing: the choice to ghost forward to face death, or to flee, albeit not something that Five had even once considered doing, was to deconstruct his view. Perhaps to her there had been a present choice, but he had been conditioned painfully to sacrifice himself would the need ever arise without fear or hesitation. It had been basic, taught instinct that had driven him to near the venomous serpent, as to which had not felt like much of a choice to him. “As you say, my lady,” Five conceded humbly, banishing every and all forbidden thoughts of arguing. It was a moot point. He had done what he had done and she was grateful though she did not need to be. He could not tell her how to feel any more than he could change his genetics. The Gladiator allowed silence to take him, curious as to if this was where they would part or if she might inquire further.


RE: night of the hunter - Harlyn - May 09, 2015

The man did not agree, but nor did he protest.  He was silent and thoughtful, which caused Harlyn to grow thoughtful as well.  Who was this stranger?  Where had he come from and how had he grown into such a selfless and... obedient creature?  There were many questions that ran through the Cinderloch's mind, but she was quite aware that there was a time and a place to unleash such curiosities and they were definitely not all at once right after the object of your inquiries saved your life.


"What is your name?" she asked after a moment.


RE: night of the hunter - Five - May 16, 2015

There was a small moment of silence that passed between them, in which Five was left with little but with obedient silence. The Amazon woman had beat into him that he should not speak unless spoken too, exceptional circumstances excluded; besides, it was not as if he knew what to say to her. And it was rude and punishable to leave without being clearly dismissed, which he had not happened yet. Five understood that, in all technicalities he did not belong to the Amazon women any longer, but even if he were not in utter denial over his unwanted and unwelcome freedom old habits died hard. He could not shut off the years of beatings and training the Amazon women had made him endure to make him into their ideal Gladiator, a strong fighter, an obedient and resolutely loyal slave, an impressive trophy. He may have known something else but he had been a small child when he'd been taken and sold and most of that life, most of being a Roman, was lost to him; and if it wasn't lost it had been so deeply buried that trying to excavate it was an impossible mission.

Sometimes, things were better off left dead.

Yet, when the woman broke her silence to inquire his name, Five's eyes of moss green lifted to study her face respectfully for a few moments before they dutifully lowered, he was struck with a decision. Cinq, or Five was what the Amazon women had called him, but it had never been his name. It was just a way of singling him out among the other men, something to call him. He had hoped, at one time, to be able to win their favor enough to be called by his given name, a true testament to him as a Gladiator. Five had been a slave's name, and despite it's relevance to him the desire to hear is given name spoken from lips after so many years was a strong one, and surely did not go against Quetzalcoatl's last orders to him. “I was born with the name Nero, m'lady,” Five admitted. “But I was given Five to be called a few months later. You may call me whichever you prefer.” Despite his own selfish desire his obedience was a scar that ran too deeply and thus the Gladiator gave her the choice.


RE: night of the hunter - Harlyn - May 16, 2015

There seemed to be much happening within the confinement of the male's thoughts as the quiet stretched between them.  Harlyn was quite curious about him, as she often was about the quiet, stoic types.  She knew that every wolf she came across had far more to them than what they shared, often enough.  This male was no different, or so she suspected.


Harlyn smiled warmly at his response, finding so much more in it than the words that he shared.  "And what if I wish to call you Stick or Rock?" she asked boldly, "Would I be allowed to call you that?"


RE: night of the hunter - Five - May 22, 2015

The woman's smile was warm, and it sparked against the Gladiator's stony armor, warming something within his chest, as if the ice inside him were slowly being melted. It was a strange sensation to the slave, and the prideful beast within him craved more of it. This was reminiscent to what his wins in the arena granted him, the Roman in him feeding and thriving off of the rarity of the adoration and the requests and favors that the amazon women gave him within Quetzalcoatl's court. Rewards for being the victor. Though none of this had ever compared to being Quetzalcoatl's champion and partner, chosen out of the slew of slaves they kept to battle and to give her strong daughters, though their first partnering had left her with a son instead. A son that Five had watched her nearly die for when her mother had attempted to take the newly born babe from her and Quetzalcoatl had fought for him. Five was no fool, understood that all that saved the child's life had been the fact that he was a carbon copy of his mother, a replica in appearance, though in build he took strictly after Five, himself; yet even so Five had hoped that some of her desire to keep him had been because it had been their child.

Five was drawn back from his memories and thoughts when the woman before him spoke, a soft grin cracking, roguishly, at the corners of the Gladiator's lips as she inquired boldly. She reminded him of Quetzalcoatl in that moment, and it was a tough one as he fought with breathlessness and great sadness. “As long as it pleases you, milady, you can call me anything you'd like,” And he would answer her, no matter what she desired to call him. Names were not something that slaves were privileged to have, which was why they were assigned numbers. Even as Gladiator's they did not have names — merely they were addressed as titles. Doctore had been his title as lead Gladiator and trainer to the newest slaves and boys who had reached training age. Names were no longer important to him, so long as she called him something.


RE: night of the hunter - Harlyn - May 30, 2015

Harlyn regarded him quietly as he came to a decision as to how to answer.  Every word he spoke seemed to her as though read from a script, but there was something deeper to him that his words seemed reluctant to betray.  The druid did not like to see a soul so guarded, but she knew armor was not so easily shed.  That of course didn't mean she wouldn't try to loosen the clasps for him.


"It's always been a dream of mine to lead a strong pack, loyal to each other like a true family," she replied after a beat, "I think I'm finally close to realizing that dream, and when I do, I want you to join me."

It was bold of her to say.  Mordecai hadn't even agreed to this venture with her yet, and without him, there was no venture.  Harlyn felt completely confident in him, though, and thus she felt completely confident that she would be able to provide the life she wanted for this gentleman, along with any other wayward wanderers she came across that struck her like this fellow had.

He fixed her with a thoughtful look, which caused Harlyn to give him a knowing smile.  With nothing more to say, the druid got to her paws and left him to whatever thoughts he had locked away in his head and his heart, knowing that they would meet again one day - hopefully soon.