Blackfeather Woods become the beast

warrior thread! could do a quick spar? or maybe someone could teach him some moves~ or give him advice oorrr idk, haha. *has so much kahl muse*

Kahlil takes the days one at a time as they come, ready to face what they have to throw at him. Thus far he has done naught but make potential enemies of the other boys …or those that he has met. One of them who is another ward of the Speaker. For her sake, Kahlil thinks, perhaps he should extend effort (as strenuous as it might prove to be) to at the very least be civil with the pompous star child who thinks himself superior — and can Kahlil blame him? Does he not too seek to assert his own dominance? (The answer of which is yes he does and will seek to assert dominance). If olive branch of effort is to be extended it will be made known most assiduously that it is solely for Nyx’s benefit. The tundrian is not quite sure why he has a sudden and fierce desire to preen himself so beneath his guardian’s watch, why he desires her favoritism. Part of it is dominance but the other part is …foreign to him. Perplexing if because he still does not blindly instill with her his full and unrelenting trust. True this, she feeds him and has taken him beneath her night clad wing. For this he owes her his life. It is a heavy debt to incur but all he can do now is ensure that it is repaid in full and with some interest.

Belly full with whatever meat his guardian had brought back for him and Neo — as to what he ate he paid no mind. It was meat and he snatched it away and went to eat in secluded corner, glacial gaze keenly observant as he tore at his breakfast with low growls issuing from his throat — a clear warning to let him eat in peace lest one find themselves at the mercy of sharpened teeth. He does not linger long but he does not stray far from where they are corralled each night, either. Kahlil is restless, understandably, used to roaming the Strath with stolen freedom and liberties. Things he has not yet earned; but earn them he will.

Miraak felt the emptiness brought by Nemesis' disappearance, and waited with some interest on his nephew's return to power, alongside his new consort, the young Nyx.

He no longer cared for what station he officially held; he still carried out his duties as best he could, despite the stiffening of his bones and the flaring of old scars. He asked Potema for poppy when he could no longer bear it, and continued on. 

Nyx's rise to the leading ranks had come with some interesting persons. Two boys have joined the pack's ranks as wards to the Speaker. He knows not where they came from, nor who their parentage was. So far they stayed; they could have easily left, but here they stayed. He knew not why — in truth, he knew nothing of them, not even their names. 

So when he hears the foreign growls from somewhere in the dark, he follows the sound with some interest, leading him to the mottled pelt cast half in shadow. Miraak chuffs, and lays perpendicular to the boy, showing his clear disinterest in the child's meal. After spending some time in silence, listening to what the boy would say or do, he eventually rumbled evenly: What is your name, noisy boy?

thank you for joining! ♥

As Kahlil eats his meal it would appear that his peace is not to last. To his surprise, however, it is not Neo that approaches — which Kahlil notes is likely a very good thing. Instead, it is a man that Kahl has never seen before: of dark pelt streaked with grey in his muzzle that gives the young thespian the impression that he is old though there is no way for Kahlil to determine exact age of the stranger. If there is one thing Kahlil cannot help but notice it is that all the adults he has met thus far bear pelage as dark as the night. Nyx, the Dark Master, and now this stranger. At first, Kahlil ignores his presence beyond staring — for he is not so foolish to let his guard down and lower his eyes. He noses through the scraps that are left of his meal, belly full and when he finds what he desires — the largest bone he can find in the small woodland creature’s body — he tears it free of the skeleton and ligaments and pushes his scraps to the side in favor of the bone which he holds steady beneath one paw — currently (like his head) awkward and too big for his body.

The male speaks, voice almost the low rumble of thunder just before a storm with a lilting accent to his words. “Kahlil,” The young imperial responds simply, pulling the bone closer to him before he lifts it between his jaws and begins to worry it, eager to suckle the decadent marrow from it’s core. He worries it for a few seconds before it lets it fall beneath the imprisonment of his front paw. “What is your name?” The Spiderling returns the question in kind before he takes an end of the bone back in his mouth and worries and suckles some more as he waits for the older man’s response.

Sorry I'm late! Been busy. :P

He lays there, watching the boy with some disinterest as he cracks through bone and sucks through marrow. He lacks hunger; he finds that to be more so now that he was older. His name is Kahlil, a name from a tongue half recognized by the elder beast, half obscured by the fog of memory.

The question is turned back to him, and he chuckles. What is my name? He repeats, smirking. Miraak, He drawls, yawning and laying his head upon his paws. Did Nyx steal you from somewhere? Or did you come of your own accord, and the Speaker seduced you when you arrived?

no worries ♥!

The male returned the question, as if, for a moment he could not remember his name. This causes a slight furrow to Kahlil’s brow as he contemplates it. Is that something that one could forget? And he supposes that yes, yes it is. In time, he would forget that Roarke Fearghal ever existed, for the sake of The Family and to selfishly ensure his own survival. He had to focus upon his future and his future was in Blackfeather Woods, with these umbra wolves and their mysterious and savage ways. Miraak, the man introduces himself as with a smirk. Kahlil worries the bone some more as he watches the older male lay his head across his paws with no intention of going anywhere any time soon. Kahlil let the bone drop between his paws once more as Miraak left him with several questions; all related but strung together by alternatives to the question it seemed he truly sought: how did Kahl come to be here? “What do you mean, seduced?” Kahlil zeroed in on the word that Miraak used that he found he did not know, seeking it’s definition before he answered the actual question that still hung in the air between them. “Nyx found me and took me in. I owe her my life.” And thus his loyalty and devotion. Unable to hunt for himself and already a whole night and day without any food had made him hungry. Kahlil would have starved to death if something bigger hadn’t killed him first.

He watches the boy's reactions. The young boy's bone clattered onto the ground as his own questions rang in the air. Miraak's smirk faded to a small upturn of the corner of his mouth. He watched, and listened. Seduced. To entice. Attract. Nyx was interested in being a courtesan after all. That is their main job. Perhaps, whenever Malcanthet returned, if he ever did, he could continue Nyx's training as a proper courtesan, but until then, he could only assist her and let her figure it out on her own. And she was doing it well, landing herself a position on the Dark Council as the Speaker, a job that could be performed by both spy and courtesan, for they occupied a similar sphere in Mephala's influence.

So it is a debt? He asked rhetorically, already knowing what it was. The question was more for Kahlil than himself. Debts have to be paid eventually, don't they? How do you intend on paying it back?

Kahlil listens with rapt attention and puerile attention as Miraak explains what seduce means. Kahlil absorbs the information and tucks it away all the meanwhile considering if Nyx seduced him. He doesn’t think so. Courtesan is another word that Kahl is unfamiliar with but given the previous information Miraak provided him with it is not hard for the young tundrian to make the connection. “She wanted to learn how to seduce,” He surmises aloud, canting his head to the side for the moment as he stares at something over Miraak’s shoulder before his glacial gaze refocuses upon the older man. “Who did she want to seduce?” He isn’t sure why it matters and tries to be nonchalant about his question, tries to make it seem like an innocent inquiry. Kahl does not think Nyx seduced him but that does not mean that she does not appeal to him nevertheless. She is beautiful, she is night personified. He might owe her a life debt but he is very much here of his own free will. If he hadn’t, in some small part of him at the time, wanted to go with her he would have turned down her offer to go with her and eat what she caught for him that day,

Though his accumulation into their culture is slow going and a learning process for the tundrian he wants to be here. He wants to be one of them. “I will faithfully and loyally serve the Dark Council. I aim to become the best warrior and when I do, they will have my skills to command.” Kahl tells Miraak; of course that is not all of his aspirations for his future and adulthood but it is a good (and safe) place to start as coming right out and stating he seeks to be a Warlord someday may not entirely go over well.

He hums in confirmation, wondering where Kahl's voiced thought process was leading to. When he eventually came to a conclusion, Miraak raised his voice to speak. Anyone and everyone, At least, that was what he had assumed. There was never a specific goal for them, not for those who had been born and raised. Outsiders initiated often used their trainings as ways to satisfy their feelings of revenge, but no one here, as far as he knew.


A knowing twinkle flashes into Miraak's eye. Then if they decided that your life is worth nothing to them anymore, that you are nothing more than fodder, you would listen, even if it meant certain death? He's testing Kahlil now, trying to judge the boy truly. He might say these things but did he actually mean it? Was he now committed to the Dark Council and the Brotherhood they rule, or was he something else?

Anyone and everyone, Miraak replied to his question of whom it was Astrid intended to seduce with her skills. Thus, he was able to piece together a roughly hewn meaning of the word courtesan with the information he’d been given: someone that seduces without bias …but for what reason. “For information?” The imperial asks next, wanting to fill in the last missing puzzle piece of this profession and why it is important. Miraak’s next question is a heavy one, and considers a great deal of thought afforded in a lingering silence as Kahlil processes it. Would he just roll over because they deemed his life no longer worthy? He is a titan of the Tundra (or he will be, someday when he is full grown!) and his life belongs to him. He knows the answer and understands that it may mean he will not be welcome here, never welcome here but tenacity is in no short supply within him — as unfortunate as it may prove to be for Kahl — and the young sotapäällikkö cannot accept the idea of allowing someone to dictate his life is over because he ceases to be useful to them. He is destined to for great (and perhaps terrible things) but he is not so suddenly sure that Blackfeather Woods will be the catalyst to them as he’d first thought.“Would you?” Instead of giving answer, Kahl turns the question to Miraak seeking the older man’s response first before he gives his own.

Miraak merely nods, but there is more to being a courtesan that just gleaning information. They create allies and broker deals, smoothing relationships and even sneaking in assassins or doing the assassinating themselves. But Kahlil didn't need to know just everything at once, not if he was so good at gaining information himself.

He expects an answer, but the question is turned back to him. Miraak smirk again. If I answer first, would you change the way you would answer to satisfy me?

Kahl watches as the man before him smirks as the soturi turns the question back at him. Kahlil only seeks to assess what sort of man that is before him: if he feels his life should truly belong in the paws of another so easily forfeit the second his usefulness runs out. That is a power that Kahl would see in no one’s jaws but his own; and by subscribing to that belief it is only making it inevitable that it will happen: like an hourglass the sand would pass achingly slow through the funnel into the empty side and it would gather and collect until the sand runs out. Kahl understands the second that he gives his answer it might be his undoing with the wolves of the Woods. Then so be it. “No, my answer will not change.” Kahl speaks honestly thinking that perhaps his honesty has no place here but that he will be tenacious and defiant until the day he draws his last breath (hopefully as an old man having lived a long and prosperous life).

He says, at least, that his answer will not change, but how could he know for certain if he did not say it first? But he relents, shrugging. My duty is first and foremost to Sithis and Mephala and the Night Mother. While the Dark Council can rule as they see fit, they are mere mortals and can be swayed. I take every order with a grain of salt — a thought if it would truly benefit the gods or not. With his answer given, he looks to the boy, waiting on what he would say next.

Kahlil is surprised to hear that Miraak does not blindly put faith behind the Dark Council and thinks maybe there is a kinship yet to be made between he and the older male. “My answer is no, I would not listen. When I die is not up to them.” Kahlil gives his true answer, unabashed and (perhaps foolishly) unafraid. He doesn’t precisely trust Miraak just because they have a similar answer to one another but he sees no reason to lie. It would have been easy to, of course, to give the whole spiel and asskissery that would appease those in charge: that of course he would listen and of course he would be fodder for slaughter. But he is not and he never will be. Even the thought of anything thinking such a thing of him is enough to irk Kahl; and perhaps it means his debt will remain unfulfilled but surely Nyx could find another to take on the burden of the tundrian’s debt. It isn’t as if there is a shortage of children in the Teekons for her to coerce into joining her. It would be good practice, Kahl thinks, for her desire to be courtesan.

Good, He nods in genuine approval. Usually he hears the opposite in young acolytes, especially those brought in from strife and blessed with an accepting place. He has heard too many naive and brazen answers of total loyalty, knowing that they would never respond like that when faced with reality. You would be surprised how rare it is to hear that,

this seems like a good place to wrap this up. last post from me & khal! Feel free to post once more or archive as is. :-)

Khal is surprised to see the older man nod with approval, explaining that it is rare. Rare to rebel against the core of Blackfeather Woods and it’s leadership; and essentially that is what Khal has done by refusing. Perhaps Miraak can get away with it but there is a nagging feeling that the soturi would not be so lucky, would not have enough pull. He is an outsider and he finds himself cringing against the idea of religion, of worshiping something that he cannot see, that he cannot prove is real. Perhaps Neo will prove to be the perfect son, after all, because the tundrian cannot help the slight curl of his upper lip at the idea that someday, when he ceases being useful to them, Damien and Nyx would kill him. He will not forget this conversation in the coming days and will come to think upon it as he makes his trips outside of the Woods. Miraak is honest (or more-so the soturi has no reason not to trust him) and for that Khal is grateful. “I should get back to the den before Nyx worries.” He says to excuse himself. He pauses once to glimpse at Miraak over his shoulder before he vanishes into the darkness of the woods.