Frostfire Ridge the north called for me

@Týrr Joining thread (I decided to use him instead of the new charrie I made) 

After leaving Blackfeather Woods for good, the northener allowed his paws to guide him where he belonged, to the North of these wilds. It took quite a week or two to cross the lands and when he arrived at where he thought the north was, the scent of Blackfeather Woods had faded away completely, leaving him with the smell of a loner. Not that he had a problem with that, it was better this way, after all if he was going to join a pack, better to let them think he was a loner looking for a home instead of a pack wolf who had recently left to go to the North. It would not sound good at all.

Finding a river, Kenneth dipped hs ebony crown and lapped up some water before straightening up and continuing forward, allowing whatever deity that ruled the earth to determine the way he would go. After all, he came here without a plan whatsoever, and a plan wasn't going to randomly pop into his head right now. That was not how things worked, it didn't work when he was on exile and it wouldn't work now.

After walking for sometime, he smelled the faint odor of scent markers and took a few steps forward, sniffing the air cautiously. Perhaps he could settle down here.

They were close to officially claiming the Ridge as their own, though in reality the claiming process had already been under way. Týrr had gathered a sizable force of wolves, though admittedly they had found him but if they refused to leave him he saw no point in them not being apart of something; and Tuwawi's presence brought with it a sense of peace. Her return heralded great things, the Rekkr was confident, and she was another wolf he could trust within his ranks though knowing that he ranked above her was nothing short of strange for him. In Swiftcurrent Creek she'd ranked above him and then of course in Duskfire Glacier when she'd became his queen; and though she didn't hold the title there would always be a part of him that still saw her as such ...that would always see her as such. The carefully laid plans and months of patience were coming together rapidly now, and as the days counted down to his official claim the previously lax territorial behavior he'd had in regards to the “borders” of Frostfire Ridge had become to rise within him. No longer would he allow free passage into his lands, to poke around and then leave. He did not need recruits and as far as the Rekkr was now concerned Frostfire Ridge was no longer a free territory. He and his had occupied it for months as they gathered their strength and now it would be known that the territory was his with reinstated consequences for what would be now trespassing to him.

Týrr had been on a patrol when the scent of another wafted his way on the tepid breeze of the summer day. The drifting clouds offered reprieve from the beat of the sun, aiding to cool the day off from it's potential, though it seemed to be colder where they were than further south where Stavanger Bay was located. Northerner blood ran in his veins, though the Amazons had always inhabited the southern most part of the Valley — leaving ample distance between Odinn's Cove and Coatl's Rise, rivals as they were. Moving to intercept the stranger at the borders did not require an alter of Týrr's course and soon the serpent king came upon him. The other male was easy to spot, draped in a coat of ebony. Crystalline blue gaze assessed the male for a few seconds as Týrr approached, posture dominate, tail curled above his back leaving no question as to who he was; black leathery nostrils flared as he inhaled and exhaled deeply, investigating the other's scent. Loner. 

“What is your purpose here?” The Rekkr inquired. For the moment introductions held no interest to him. Such things could come later if the conversation allowed for it. For now, Týrr was only interested in what the other's presence suggested and what he was seeking.

Kenneth had never really been a cautious type of wolf, he had been rash, impulsive and reckless as a boy, as the literal black sheep of Ziragon Bosk. But he didn't really have a choice then, it was either proving himself as strong, skilled and headstrong or being what they expected him to be, weak and craven. Obviously, he chose the former. When they exiled him from his natal pack, he lost most of his recklessness and previous impulsiveness, become an icy, rather stoic, cold hearted wolf, but never really cautious. However, he hesitated a distance away from the borders now, something unusual and weird for the exiled warrior. He did not tilt his head back and howl for an audience like he always did the moment he stopped by a pack which he wished to join, but simply lingered, as if unsure of what decision to make.


The Rekkr saved him from it. Keen falcon like white eyes spotted the aspiring Alpha from a distance, tall and broad, draped in a coat of rich, silken chocolate brown and graced with striking eyes of crystalline blue. Thick stripes of bright silver mark the wolf underneath each eye, his most unique features. Kenneth watched as the wolf of the ridge approached, posture dominant and tail curled stiffly above his back, signifying his rank of a leader. 

The black wolf's own posture shifted to one of deference to the chocolate coated Rekkr, listening calmly as the other male inquired for his purpose by the ridge. "I seek a new home," the Northerner said in his faintly accented voice, eyes of fresh snow drifting towards the other's face for a moment - avoiding the eyes- before falling to the ground once more.

The ebony male before him had not announced his presence upon what would soon become more than faint scent markers. Soon they would be strong to reflect the strength of the pack the serpent king had created. Aspects of Viking and Amazon, something new with ancient traditions held in reverence by both Cultures for centuries. Not unlike him. The Rekkr was a warrior (perhaps not in trade yet) but he was also a Tlatoani; a King. Týrr, for a few moments as the stranger spoke his intent, dithered upon being surprised and not. Most of the time when wolves were at the borders it often meant they were searching for something more than what they'd already had; or sometimes they offered an olive branch of parlay wanting to speak of peaceful terms. Peace was a fickle thing to Týrr; not unlike fate. It's tides could turn as quickly as a blink of the eye. Týrr found tolerance to the packs that were around the Taiga as necessary and so long as they left he and his alone, he would ensure that his wolves left them alone in turn. Politics were important but they were also corrupt things.

“Why did you leave your previous one?” Týrr inquired. He had not yet figured out how strict he wanted to be with those seeking sanctuary within his ranks, but knew that he would be nothing if not weary. Already he had one (possibly two?) wolves within his ranks attempting to sabotage what he had so carefully built in attempts to get him to bend to their will, and atop that there was always the possibility that Stavanger Bay would discover him as the killer of their Jarl. Though Týrr did not fear the Bay — their lack of numbers suggested weakness; after all he suspected the bulk of their numbers was children as opposed to capable adults. He saw them as no real threat; and as far as he was concerned Ragnar had deserved what he'd gotten. Ragnar hadn't been a good man, his wolves were just too blinded by his charisma to see that he'd done worse than they could likely imagine. He was a liar and a barbarian and the world was a better place for his death as far as Týrr was concerned.

“Frostfire Ridge is ...different,” To say the least. “then most packs you may find in these Wilds. I run a tight ship and though I will not ask my wolves to do something I wouldn't do, you should know before I delve into details and potentially waste my breath that earning your way into our ranks is not going to be easy because it isn't meant to be such.” Before, Týrr had simply offered wolves a place within his ranks but no more. He was past the point of recruiting. No more would wolves be grandfathered in on the principle that they'd helped him found it; and even those grandfathered into the ranks still had to meet the requirements to stay there.

The chocolate coated male asked him a question, inquiring on why he left his previous home, previous pack. Saying that the north called for him was not a suitable answer and would most likely earn him a free ticket out, which was not something he wanted. But there hadn't been any other reason why he left Blackfeather Woods except for the fact that he knew....he knew he didn't belong there. Sure, underneath the thick canopies, living in the shadows, in the darkness, that was where he physically belong. He blended in easily and was most skilled underneath the cover of darkness. But there had been assassins there, killers, priests who bowed to gods of sex, deceit, bad gods. He was a killer himself, but there had always been a reason then. It started as a longing for revenge for fallen comrades, when he was captured by Romans and became a gladiator, it had been for survival. But Ken was pretty sure that they killed for this 'Night Mother' and for other wolves who were too craven, cowardly to do so themselves. That was not his life. That was not how the black wolf wished to live.

"I did not belong," Kenneth replied. "They were southerners, cowards and cravens who asked assassins to kill for them in exchange for hunting rights in their territory, or other valuable things. They were weak, green as summer grass and lived...pathetic lives." Truthfully, the ebony prince had been living with the assassins in the last home he had but he decided that excuse was not good and therefore referred to the second last pack he had lived in. Those were wolves who cowered and feared simply because the sun didn't rise at the exact time their priest predicted. Any sane wolf would have left once they saw this pack's true colors.

The Rekkr spoke, saying that his pack, Frostfire Ridge was different than most packs in these Wilds. That he ran a tight pack and although he would not ask his wolves to do something he would not do, he should know that before the serpent king dwelled in the details that earning his way into their ranks is wasn't going to be easy. The chocolate wolf did not scare the exiled prince off, quite the contrary, he was more than sure that this Frostfire Ridge would be a good home for him. "I didn't expect it to be easy," Kenneth simply said, why would he run away from a craven pack just to join another one?

No need to match the length! <3

Though the Tlatoani kept a neutral expression of indifference to the stranger, velveteen ears the color of chocolate held attentive as the dark male explained his reasons for leaving his previous home, south of here, Týrr understood the feeling of not belonging; understand it in a much more complicated and personal matter than he ever intended to share with anyone, though such a thing was also tied closely with confusion and feeling lost as he'd felt when he had suffered the height of his identity crises as the memories had begun their progression back from whatever dark corner of his mind the amnesia had kept them at. “I would be careful how you speak of Southerners, my amazons will not appreciate you calling them cowards and cravens,” Though it was very likely the other male had not meant it to sound as if all “Southerners” were the same it had come across that way., to the serpent king whom had likely simply misinterpreted; even though if this was the case it was good to get it out in the open, nevertheless. “You will find yourself missing your tongue, or something more important.” Though Coatl's Rise technically resided in the far reaches of the North they were originally from warmer climates, and inhabited the very southern reaches of the valley that they rivaled the Vikings for dominance over. It was a soft spoken warning, but a warning not to be heeded lightly, nevertheless. Týrr had never seen much point in raising his voice to get his point across. He had learned from Ragnar that you could speak softly and yet powerful at the same time.

In the other male's response — in regards to Týrr's statement about it not being easy — that he hadn't been expecting it to be easy was strange to the Rekkr. After all, how could he expect anything when he knew nothing about them? Nothing about how they worked? Despite his confusion on it, he decided to let it go. “Then your spoken determination,” For that was what Týrr had taken his words for. “will certainly be put to it's test.” The Rekkr remarked simply, fixing the other in his sharp stare. “Our pack takes it's structure from the Amazon's and Gladiator's, I am Tezcacoatl, the Tlatoani; it's King.” He figured it was a good time to give his introduction, slightly surprising himself when he gave the name Tezcacoatl. It had flowed naturally from him, as if he hadn't gone by a different name at all. A strange surge rushed through him — adrenaline perhaps — but outwardly he did not reflect this, instead remaining nothing short of stoic. He had no judgments to pass upon the stranger, yet. Judgment came later. “The first thing you should know is that I will take any wolf that comes to my borders, within reason, of course,” Trespassers faced the possibility of death, of course, but so long as they were respectful they would be given the chance to prove themselves. “but that does not mean that they will stay. You will occupy a low rank because you need a rank but it means little; and this is where you will stay until you prove yourself and pass your rite of passage by earning the Warrior trade. It is expected of every wolf that seeks a home here.” As of currently he had no time frame to impose but he couldn't keep wolves in his ranks that showed no ambition. He would help those who struggled but showed the determination to become something more, but he did not abide those absent of even the smallest amount of effort.

“Are you still interested?” The question was simple and begged a simple answer. Though there was still much more Týrr needed to discuss if he was, indeed, still interested, he left the pause open for questions should there be any.

I will never be able to write so much....<3

The feeling of not belonging was something he had known the moment he arrived into this world, literally. He had been unwelcomed the moment he slid out of his mother, the moment his parents and all of Ziragon Bosk realized the king in the North had a son the color of the night sky. Ever since, he had been shunned and scorned, bullied and taunted...until he was exiled, which just simply brought along another story of regret. But that was a story for another time. It was only when his home became Borealis Legio, when he was a favored gladiator for a Roman pack when he truly felt he belonged. That was when he realized that 'belonging' was one of the hardest and best things a black bastard from the North could ever receive, and the gods had been merciful to him.

Kenneth listened intently as the chocolate coated Tlatoani spoke, telling him to be careful on how he spoke of Southerners and that his amazons would not appreciate him calling them cowards and cravens. This guy had Amazons? But weren't they the man hating type of women, those who also had gladiators but ones that forgot their old identity and fought mindlessly for the entertainment of the superior gender? Those that were breeding machines and would most likely never get their freedom? One of the Amazon branches had captured a friend and follower of his, a bold young yearling named Strid, but even being a gladiator was better than death he supposed. The exiled prince kept his thoughts to himself, if he was accepted, he would meet the Amazons later.

The chocolate Rekkr then spoke, saying his spoken determination would be put to a test, then made to introduce Frostfire Ridge to the Roman. Apparently the pack's structure was taken from the Amazon's and the Gladiator's, that he had no problem whatsoever with. He preferred the life of a Gladiator anyways, it was always when he was best at. The Alpha Male introduced himself as Tezcacoatl, the king of the Ridge. It was a weird name, but with the male's exotic colors, he was obviously not from Teekon Wilds. The next thing this Tezcacoatl told him was that he would take any wolf that arrived at the Ridge's borders but that does not mean they will stay. He, Kenneth would occupy a low rank because he would need a rank, but it meant little. If the Northerner was to stay, he would need to earn a Warrior trade to prove himself, like every other wolf who sought a home among the ranks of the Frostfire Ridge.
 
"Are you still interested?"

Kenneth was more than interested, he was definitely in if this Tezcacoatl would accept him. This was a life similar to the one he had in Borealis Legio, but one where he was a freed man instead of a slave. Withholding the smile that sought to appear on the ebony wolf's maw, he spoke, "I've been a Gladiator before, though I left in the end. But I've always loved that life, so yes, I am still interested in joining your pack," here it was, a true new start.

Though it seems natural to end this here I figured we could at least try to get this to 10 posts so it can count towards EXP for the both of us; so maybe one more post for the both of us? :-)

Tezcacoatl had no time for wolves who were not willing to put forth the effort that he and his amazons were always putting forth, for if they wished to stay within the ranks of the Ridge they would be competing with the best; though the serpent king was nothing short of biased in that area. The ebony male still spoke of interest, even knowing what Tezcacoatl expected of him as soon as he was accepted into the pack's lowest ranks. “There are other things I need to cover with you,” Definitely things that he should be aware of, though there was a certain amount of fun in allowing them to discover the true nature of the Amazons on their own, even if it might have potentially been a crude culture shock. Tezcacoatl did not see Coatl's Rise's Gladiators to be the same thing as a “regular” Gladiator, that they as Amazons were a much harder bunch to please than Romans, and it was true at least in the aspect of being hard to please. They expected nothing but the best and they did not harbor the compassion to resist purging the weak links. “We will see,” Tezcacoatl murmured with a flick of his tail, still held in a dominate position over his back. He took to reserving his judgement. Words were good and fine but he needed to see the action to back it up.

“Breeding is strict here in the Ridge, and something that I deign to tell every male accepted into the Ridge, the Amazon's don't take mates. They don't like men in general, but if physical prowess can be proved they might consider selecting you as their partner if they win their battle for breeding rights in the pits, in which case they will often choose a few men to battle against one another and take the victor as their partner. It's not that mates aren't allowed, because they are; but even a mated pair must be subjected to battling for their breeding rights; and I still get the final say.” Perhaps circumstance would not always be kind and his children would be put in jeopardy if he allowed any other to breed — in which case he wouldn't give permission. ...There were a bunch of other scenarios but he gave Spartacus the basic run down just so that he understood how it worked. To Tezcacoatl this method seemed to be the most effective and also worked to his advantage. 

“If that has not deterred you, then you are welcomed to follow me for the tour,” Tezcacoatl invited Spartacus in, but added with a grim cheekiness. “But if you do find yourself with doubts your path back is open.” The ultimate choice was now held in Spartacus' paws.

Sounds good to me :)

The exiled prince had spent his whole life competing to be the best, and with the Gladiators, he had been competing with the best. And while he might have lost some spars and battles when he was young and green, he won every fight as a Gladiator because if he lost, he would die. And Kenneth did not plan to die so soon, so young, having just actually begun living his life to the fullest. Frostfire Ridge would not be as demanding as Borealis Legio had been, not because the Ridge had no discipline or was too soft, but simply because he had been a slave and a prized gladiator when he was in the Roman pack and his owners always pushed him hard, for they wanted him to win. If he was accepted into the Ridge, he would be a free wolf who was going to join the pack because he wanted to join, not because he was captured.

Tezcacoatl then began explaining about the breeding in the Ridge. He said that Amazons did not take mates, that didn't like men in general but if physical prowess could be proved, they might consider selecting him as their partner if they won their battle of breeding rights in the pits. The pits. Perhaps that was like the arena in Borealis Legio. Anyways they would choose a few men to battle and the victor would be the Amazon's partner. Well that was much more interesting than simply falling in love and asking the Alpha for breeding rights. Much more interesting.

"Not at all," the black wolf said with a smile. "Sounds much more interesting than simply asking for breeding rights." The exiled prince wondered if he should offer Tezcacoatl his name, and if so, which name should he give the Rekkr? Kenneth Gloom? Mavortis? Or take mix them all together? 

"I'm Spartacus," the charcoal wolf spoke. If he would be a freed gladiator here, why not take on his gladiator name too?

Going to go ahead and archive this! :-)

Spartacus had not been deterred by Tezcacoatl's strict breeding rules either, and this was a good sign to the serpent king, though only time and dedication on Spartacus' part would tell if he was suited to life at the Ridge as the ebony male thought he was. There was always a worry that his iron tight clasp on breeding might scare other males off, though this was likely for the better Tezcacoatl realized. If they could not handle something as simple as strict breeding requirements then they were no Amazons; besides he was being lenient in comparison to Coatl's Rise. In the Rise the men that fought for breeding rights, fought to prove their prowess and to earn the favor of the amazon women that ruled fought to the death. They were out for blood to get their prize. In hindsight, the spars he required (as to which no one would die in) were child's play; but this philosophy was a simple one to follow: Frostfire Ridge was not meant to be a carbon copy. It was to be the dawning of a new era for the Amazon's with him as it's harbinger.

“Come,” The serpent king invited the other male in with a gesture of his muzzle moments before he began to walk, his path to the heart of the Ridge. “We have much land to cover but first we will stop by the caches. You can fill your belly and sate your thirst before we begin.” After all, he had no interest in half starving wolves. They would be well fed even if it meant he had to send hunters out daily to replenish what was taken from the caches. He wanted strong warriors and expected nothing less: that meant training but it also meant proper eating habits and nutrition.