"The Lord said to Cain, 'Where is your brother Abel?'"
Night began to cast its dark veil upon the valley, and the banished son rose from his hiding at last.

Days had moved ever slowly as he recovered, and that had given him enough time to think and scheme. To strike deals in dark alleyways and to build up a strategy of attack. He did not have the resources to lead an army, but despite that he'd found a way to make allies when the world stood against him with pitchfork in one hand and a torch in the other.

"And he said, 'I do not know. Am I my brother’s keeper?'"
Weakness had long begun to fester in Ecrosia, eating his land from the inside out like a rotting fruit. Alaric had become a feeble old man, always trying to dance to the tune of this valley's politics. Trying to remain politically correct for... what? For peace, but no glory? For living his days out in silence when he had had the strength to bring the whole valley to its knees? Potential wasted. Wasted on whores that sucked the power out of him and left him a shell of a man.

He will not be his father.

And Bruno? He was a snake as much as Alaric's whores. Luther often wondered if Bruno wouldn't have been better suited to be born a woman, not a man. Hell, even Yrsa, their long-lost bearish sister, was more man than him. It was strange how Alaric had thought the curly-furred brother a better fit for the title of Heir.

Or perhaps Alaric had simply needed Luther gone. Out of fear. Fear I am better suited to rule.

Physical wounds had long healed, and whatever semblance of psychological wounds there were, he'd long thwarted and shoved aside. He was not a man to dwell on such things. He was a man of action, and act he will tonight. He was coming for his crown.

The throne awaits it's rightful ruler. He will not make the thorns wait a moment longer. They were his to command. He entered the land in the midst of night, with a sword in hand and a waking call for the whole valley to hear.

"Then he said, 'What have you done? Your brother's blood cries out to me from the ground!'"
Luther vs. @Bruno ♔
for Ecrosia Mire

No One Expects An Angel

To Set The World on Fire

The call comes in the middle of the night, like any smart attacker would do, rouse the Mire lions from their beds, groggy, unprepared for an atttacked, but the devorre child lioness is a night owl, always prepared. SHe slinks from her roost and slowly makes her way towards the usurper, pink eyes lay over him and she finds him extremely familiar. She'd been in the MIre her whole life, she knew everyone here, it takes her a minute but she gets it.

Luther.

the kings, well, the former kings son, his heir, the heir that disappeared. Hmmm. Very interesting.

She finds a comfy spot to rest, climbing up a large rock to look down at the pale ghost of a man, "Come to fight for your glory?"" She purrs from her spot, crooning her words. She moved to lay down, paws dangling from the edge, over his head as she smirks down at him, "Good luck to you, ghost in the dArkness."" She hums gently, rose gaze seeking to find his own eyes.

Barb SUb master: Double EXP:
+20 Participate in a pride challenge
+10 Observe a fight

code by corvus

Ooc: post 1/5 for lucian while on absence ~


The call comes, as it were, from inside the house.

It jolts him awake, the pounding drums of War having caught him wholly by surprise. Short, smooth fur bristles along his back -- waking from sleep straight in a memory. Distant but real, devastating in the way he remembers. but the air he breathes is tinged by muck and mud, not sunlit sands and blood. He is --

Here. In Ecrosia, not home.

The jackal swallows thickly as he gets to his feet, following the sound of the call. Luther is not hard to find; he does not try to hide. Pointed ears tick forward as his gaze sweeps across the man ( tall, broad, stark as snow ) to the land around him. Finding.... none others. Not an assault, then? The lioness upon the rock seems to know him, but he is a stranger to lucian.

Quietly, wordlessly, he watches -- muscles tight and tense, not ready to assume that Luther truly works alone. Unaware, blissfully, that this is a challenge that goes so much deeper than just a grab for power, for the throne. It was not his fight and yet he lingers, always watching.

Always waiting.

BG — ART — CODE

Finally something to move things around, final some big events to get Bastian of how his childish mind saw as boring life. His youthful heart craved for "fun" for something to give him the park of interest and adventure that otherwise wasn't obtained within his everyday routine. As the call went through the lands of the Mire ,Bastian who was doing his usual wandering rushed to see what it might be. As this would be his first pride challenge, he was unaware of what it surrounded. He saw a whitish colores lion who of course he had never seen before, then only some more lions he also didn't know. Yawning he sat down to watch the shit unfold, wondering what might he was going to witness.

Art by Shaz - Code by Shaz

He hadn’t been sleeping well. How could he, really? His entire existence had been turned on its ear during the course of a single conversation, revelations shared that twisted his fate and set him on a path that had never been intended for him. Emory was the second son, meant for nothing more than living in the shadow of his family’s glory, helping enact whatever plans they had for the world in their name. That had been his birthright.

But one chance meeting with his father during a little adventure—his random forays into the world to learn more about it felt so childish already—had changed all of that. Now, he was his father’s only son, his rightful heir, living surrounded by “family” who had tried to extinguish his father’s legacy. He wasn’t sure which piece scared him more.

Perhaps the first, he considered, as the sound of his father’s voice, swelling through the deepening night, sent his stomach roiling as he ceased his restless pacing. A grim, almost pained expression passed across his speckled features, his grey-lined eyes seeming even more tired than usual. He didn’t want to go, wasn’t yet ready to embrace this future of his that was supposed to have been Zagrius’s. Hell, even Runa would have been better suited for it. But it was not their way; it had to be him.

So he went, his pale, pink-tinted body slinking through the shadows that were so familiar to him by now, paths that he had tread numerous times before in an effort to arrive at the place of impending battle unseen. He paused—hesitated—and gave himself a moment to assess the early attendance. Only an unknown lioness with keen interest, a restless child, and a wiry male Emory was certain he had hunted with before. No sign of his traitorous uncle, or of his sisters…yet.

Knowing they would all be arriving soon, and remembering what was expected of him, the yearling finally stepped out of his hiding place, adopting a proud posture that felt awkward and ill-fitting, an attitude that commanded far greater authority than he had ever wanted. But he shouldered the responsibilities placed upon him as his father’s unintentional heir, trying to meet the man’s green eyes and offering a small, knowing nod. Emory was here in support of him, in defense of his family that had yet to arrive, and he waited with a coiling tension that unsettled his stomach for whatever might be asked of him that night.

He had been lazy. Lax in doing his duties for the Mire but who could blame him entirely. Whatever the case, Adeodatus found himself coming to the challenging call that a familiar voice erupted in the heart of the Mire. He knew the voice, remembered the prince when he had been just a boy. Lazy and relaxing beneath a tree but now here he was trying to take back what should be his instead of letting Bruno keep it. Adeodatus did not know anything about the family troubles that dwelled between Alaric's children or what Luther thought of his father, it was none of his concern. So, Adeodatus found the gather - spotting not only @Emory but one of his own - and ventured closer to @Ahmes where she had spoken to Luther. A gentle nudge from his head gave way to his presence.

The American Nightmare

When night comes creeping My cruel hand will rock you to sleep I'm the American nightmare With American dreams Of countin' the bodies while you count sheep I'm the American nightmare Yeah, I'm living the dream I'm slashing my way through the golden age of the silver scream

code by corvus

She had known that this day would come ever since she found him broken and bleeding on the beach. Eris had known it in her gut that her father would never settle, he had been the Heir of their familial home once upon a time, and it appeared now he was ready to regain that title. Eris felt a swirl of emotions when the call came deep in the night. She rose from her own den, moving like a ghost through the shadows of the Mire. It did not take her long to find him there, waiting. The yearling would move forwards, taking her place alongside @Emory. She wanted to tell him that she had known of this, that her secret had been eating her alive this entire time. But she had sworn to her father that she wouldn't speak a word and if there was one thing that had always been true about Eris it was that she was loyal. Instead she would let green eyes fall upon him, upon the wounds that had been stitched back together. Ignoring the memory of the blood pulsating through her fingers as she held his skin together, forcing it to mend. As she helped him recover, as she aided him in this. It was as if she was an accomplice in a crime, but Eris could not be swayed to believe she had done anything wrong. She had always been taught to be loyal to her father and even now she stood silent and watching, waiting. There was no doubt in her gaze, no fear thrumming through her. She had prepared for this moment; she knew it would come. All that was left was to watch him regain the crown.

medic & bard exp/doubled
+10 - Attend a challenge to assess the wounds (Luther v. Bruno)
+10 - Attend a challenge (Luther v. Bruno)
+20 - Witness an event worthy of making history (Brother v. Brother for the crown)

code by flea, art by rabbit

+5 Observe a fight (Bruno vs Luther)


A strange, yet familiar scent had Livyatan pause in his walk. Lifting his head to take in the scent he recognized it as Luther, when had he returned? Having kept out of Alaric's family business Livyatan hadn't known why Luther was gone. So to smell his scent again was a reassurance he was back again, good more muscle to the --- a call for the throne rang out. Well, shit.

Livyatan grumbled sighing to himself, maybe it was high time someone outside of the litter pool of Alaric's loins try to take the crown? Otherwise who was next of the mans loins to squabble over the crown demanding it as their birthright? Still, Livyatan moved towards the call with a rather neutral expression. No one would know his inner thoughts on this matter.

Arriving Livyatan noted how large and formidable Luther had become in his absence, and the Tollaire man was curious to see if this would end in violent bloodshed. Or would a work around be made? Shifting his bulk into a seated position he would glance arouns curious to see if his three brothers would show.


"talk"

ART BY IRISH / CODING BY SENTINEL

So this were the brother. The one who'd wanted Bruno's reluctant glory, the one who's absence hung in these lands like a heavy, quaking shadow. Cairidan had never met Luther before, but he'd heard enough about the prince to know generally his opposing personality to his brother, to the split between their supporters. Little stirred Cairidan from his dark, lonely corner of the Mire, but he would rise from his seclusion today for this. Though his expression of indifference would not betray otherwise, a heavy worry had settled in his stomach, an unfamiliar pacing of his heart that thrummed in his ears like an angry tinnitus.

He at first lingered in the shadows, watching as the Rike man beckoned for the Ecrosian King, the masses of their pride slowly slipping in one-by-one. Some showing their support, others their dissent; but for the most part, the crowd was hushed in anticipatory silence. Once he felt as if he'd studied the battlefield more than enough, the boy slipped free of the treeline, and settled along the fringes of the crowd. Bruno were not here yet, and it were a thought that both worried and relieved Cairidan. The tone of this battle were far different from the last; there was little sense of coming-of-age, of aspired glory.

No, the feeling lingering in the air was heavy, violent, tired of biding its time. It were nearly palpable, suffocating.

The call that rattled her soon after giving birth caused her to pull away from the cubs and tuck them in. She called upon @Lycaonia to come stay with them. The female wasn't one for the fights that tended to happen at challenges and maybe being around cubs would get her to have some. She looked at @Jean-Claude with a worried look. A call for the Mire was a major alarm for her and the Bluffs. She didn't know the voice, there was no warning like last time. She had to attend.

She left the den and called upon the Bluffs fighters to attend with her. She didn't know how things would go but she wanted to have a full force arriving there to aid in whatever way was needed. Once those who were coming gathered, she left the Bluffs and headed to her allies lands.

She arrived at a small group of Mire members gathering and Amara quickly found who had made the call and knew the male but thought he had been gone. She planted her paws in the mire's muck as she watched the grown lion. She was fairly sure that he was one of Erna's cubs but it was hard to keep track of how many cubs there were and which lionesses they came from. For now, she would wait and see how things turned out.