Thunder Dome i'm bad in the walls, asbestos

forward dating to 10/16 if that's okay!
@Ingram

He had discovered — perhaps like everybody else did at some point in their life — that he did not enjoy being alone.

He often felt deflated, aloof. There was no drive or purpose out in the wild all alone. Tasks became hard in a way that almost made them not worth it. Why burn energy to hunt if he would rarely catch something for himself? Why do anything at all if the payout was always lower?

It was a hard way to think, to live.

So his path cut west towards the mountain range, with the hope that something might await him on the other side. He ranged north up alongside it until he had felt comfortable scaling it. Then, after dangerously skirting around, he had managed to find peace.

A cavern, unexpected but not unwelcomed. Although he grew further surprised at what awaited him inside. It was as if he had stepped into a whole other world suddenly. A forest within the mountain. Sunlight and water feeding into it all too. Keeping it alive in a secretive manner.

He felt boyish in his awe of it all, letting out a soft whoa under his breath.

Cantatis Cavern: At the peak of a mountain there is a cave entrance, however this is not just any ordinary cave. Inside the entrance is most likely the most beautiful cavern you will ever see. A forest grows within the mountain and the cave entrance is the only safe way inside to the forest. The forest survives due to the light shining through holes in the mountain, and the several streams that provide water throughout the cavern. Territory description written by Bindi.

thank you for starting! <3

ingram seeks recruits, though this time he does not stray so far from the plateau he and his have begun to laborious process of claiming. part of him holds to the stubborn belief that they would come to him: by whatever force drove them, be it deity or nature as the harsher months press upon them.

there's a chill in the air that signals a part of the dreadfather's mind towards urgency.

the foundling basilica was behind the curve...for now.

a soft shiver of remembrance slithers down ingram's spine as he slips into the cavern; afraid of the shadows that lived at its mouth. it reminds him, briefly, of the cave his nightwife kept her cursedstone.

seaglass gaze takes in the sights: of the greenery that grows within this cave of the earth, of the soft sunlight that filters in thru stone worn apart by time and weather. nearby, the soft sounds of freshwater streams draw his attention briefly with a twitch of his ears.

the spell this cavern briefly put upon him is broken, then, at a soft sound of awe. it is only then that the dreadfather realizes he is not alone ( which was a terrible lapse in attention for a so-called warrior ). a low chuff is given by ingram then, to alert the other to his presence just in case he managed to sneak in despite that he hadn't been intending to be cloak himself in stealth.

A chuff.

His ears moved with his head and body. Turning to find the source of the sound. He has figured he would be alone here in such an odd place.

Or perhaps somebody had found it before him. It was not such a farfetched idea.

Hello, He called back out warm and deep. Prepared to give his position away in favor of seeing just who had found him.

though ingram was more disposed to seeking others that might need a home, temporarily or otherwise, in more populated areas of the wilds he does not naturally exclude the regions that were not as heavily travelled. he assumes ( perhaps wrongly ) that more foot traffic areas were already claimed by packs and loners would instinctively gravitate towards those packs.

hello — a warm voice; carrying.

seaglass gaze cuts along the strange cavern; seeking. hello, mirrors the dreadfather, a step taken towards one of the beams of warm, buttery sunlight. strange place, this. ingram offers as a conversational piece, finding that the more he starts conversations the better he becomes at it. being non-verbal only worked while he was keeper. now, as dreadfather, he needed to hone conversational skills.

It was another man.

Darker than Baudelaire, smaller but perhaps stronger. Who was he to put something past another? He only took comfort in the shared company of another his age.

I didn't know such a place could exist. He admitted honestly with a soft shrug of shoulders.

You don't...own it, do you? Or intend to? A brow suddenly arched high above hawkish eyes as he awaited an answer. It would be an odd place for a home, but he does not put it aside anyone.

the earthen colored male is visible to ingram and he voidwalker takes a moment to study the other. this is not an aggressive action, simply one meant to sate his curiousity; endless as it seems to be these days.

no, the dreadfather assures with a soft, rumbling chuckle. though this place seems like a bit of a haven, but the stone walls pressing down might quickly become too overwhelming. for ingram, it reminds him of his nightwife and there is a longing that jabs at his heart like a blunted blade.

swiftly, those thoughts are whisked away.

i am laying claim to the plateau, not too far away, though.

A haven.

It had been exactly that for him, hadn't it? A break from slogging through the mountainside on his way to get beyond everything.

Beyond loneliness.

I have not seen a plateau. Perhaps that conveyed some of his inexperience with this part — or perhaps the other man just had a well shrouded home. Who could say? What are you making of it?

There was a soft pang of jealousy, quickly smoothed over by his curiosity.

a home called basilica, offers the dreadfather. though he knows information is power and he can be as wily and sly as a fox when it comes to knowledge he covets ( habits from his time as keeper that he cannot shake perhaps ), he knows that some knowledge has to be offered for free. any loner he crosses path with could be a potential recruit ...and isolation has been blackwater's ultimate downfall.

a mistake he does not intend to repeat.

many of us are religious, ingram offers. and while there will be religious based events ...the overarching element of basilica will be community. it is for anyone: religious or not.

Religion was not a hard or farfetched concept, but he had never practiced. His intimacy with the idea was little at best. Understanding that some might worship and pray. Some built lives around it all.

Baudelaire had just been a reckless heir, tossing aside the notion of higher power in favor of his own.

Now here was a man doing what he wanted, under the cloak of religion. Funny, wasn't it?

I am not, He confessed in a manner that suggested he was not bothered. By any of it. I learned skills of the physical instead. Almost became a knight once or twice. He laughed, a life boyish in tone and exposing the youth that still clung to him.

religion is a choice, and not one that should be forced upon anyone. ingram speaks on the subject of religion, with a spark to the smoky tinder of his voice that belays a wisdom he was too physically young to possibly hold. his soul, though, it is old. older than the sky and the earth. you can be religious and physical, ingram suggests with a soft rise and fall of his shoulders, instinctively, salmon colored tongue drawing across the scars upon his lips.

i am a warrior and a seer. that one could not be the other was, in his personal opinion, ridiculous. he shifts his weight then, reclining casually upon his huanches.

He found himself charmed, in an intoxicating kind of way.

A man his age, a warrior and a seer. Building something. Baudelaire could not help it if he wished to fawn.

A seer, hm? And is it presumptuous or silly to ask if you can see anything for me? His tone remained warm and light. Prepared to accept a rejection. He doubted these kinds of things worked on command.

the threadbones told what they wished to: the voidwraiths, though beneath the dreadfather's command of the spiritual realm, were sometimes forthcoming and other times not. i can, not quick to turn away the chance to turn to them: his precious bones, his obsession. but i would need my threadbones and they are back on the plateau. they were cumbersome to travel with and besides that he would be an unruly boar if he lost one.

you may come to the plateau's borders to recieve your reading if you do not have an interest in being apart of what basilica is building, though ingram desires greatly to add on a fee for the service, he does not if only because he was trying to build his kingdom on want and not on force. either way, the reading will not require payment. at least, not this time.

Things were required for this service it seemed. So it could not be conducted here.

Then there was what...felt like an offer. Maybe not, he was uncertain. Did he have an interest in Basilica? In a way. He had an interest in this man, in the things he was doing and could possibly see.

And if I did have an interest? What's asked of me? What am I given in return?

His interest in the service of a seer were set aside for a moment.

what ever you are willing to contribute, ingram replies simply. in return, you will gain a sense of community. a home. food for your belly and a pack that will stand behind you. though after he speaks these words, he considers that it falls beneath the 'community' blanket. the dreadfather has not taken the approach of 'selling' his pack to potential wolves before and sees how he might've fumbled it. but he was not a salesman by nature. that had been his nightwife.

All of it was what he needed, truthfully. Yearned for deeply.

I am ambitious and I do not wish to hide that from you if I do join. He clarified with warmth, softly rolling his shoulders as he reclined. He was not here to swing his ego around, nor try and challenge the other man.

If there is room for a man like me to rise, and be encouraged to rise, I am interested.

the stranger is honest with him: telling him to the point that he is ambitious ...and it is a trait that ingram resonates with. he hadn't been once, content to serve faithfully as his nightwife's keeper and nothing more. but that ingram was gone; died the day that he welcomed the dreadfather into him.

there is both room and opportunity. ingram speaks. i would not see the wolves of my pack remain stagnant. a pack with stagnant ranks was like signing a death warrant with the void.

i am ingram, the dreadfather. he introduces, offering both name and rank.

i applied for him to be pledged so feel free to add him officially to Basilica's tracking! :D

A smile split and spread his features. Both room and opportunity. Baudelaire was prepared to seize them both as best as he could.

Baudelaire. It is a pleasure to join you, Ingram.

The Dreadfather. Would Baudelaire find himself dawning such a title?

I owe you. He rumbled warmly with a soft sway of his head, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

yay! i'll do that asap. i went ahead and archived this with my post but i'd love a follow up thread where ingram gives him a threadbone reading! <3

baudelaire, ingram repeats the name of basilica's newest recruit; letting the syllables roll off of his tongue and linger in the rumble of his smoky timbre.

come. invites the dreadfather with a 'come hither' motion of his scarred muzzle; taking the lead. i show you the way to the plateau, and when you are settled in and ready, come find me for your threadbone reading.