It’s a thought that’s been hovering around his head for quite some time now. An itch in the back of his mind. The thorn that’s stung his side since he’d first learned of the state of things. That the largest mark his family had left upon this land had been painted with their own blood. Remnants left to hide away amidst dust and mud, as if they were something mundane. Rainer has never been mundane.

In the end, it comes about in the same impulsive way that most of his decisions do. Within the tundra’s sparse fields, gnawing at the bones of his latest stolen meal, his thoughts wandered towards the wandering life he’s come to lead. It’s a fine life, he supposes. An entertaining one. Unpredictable. Freeing. Yet he knows it could be even better. Some 'freedoms' only come with a shiny crown.

He turns his icy gaze upon the mountain then, the same one that so many had lost their minds over just a few short months ago - And decides that he wants it.

Why then, should he not take it?

He could easily say that the Sigrun and their allies had grown far too bold in recent months. That they were long overdue for a grandiose reminder of the Rike's strength. That they deserved to be toppled back into the damned sea. But that's all merely the sweet cherry on top. Exhilaration hums beneath his skin as he climbs, nostrils flaring as the air grows thinner, colder. A sweet, familiar discomfort. The yawning void within him has ignited with a burning hunger, a morbid desire for blood and destruction bleeding through the cracks of the nonchalant mask it hides beneath. This is for him, just as much as it’s for the Rike.

There shall be no more hiding today.

The border is clear and distinct, a heavy barrier that many might not dare to cross. Oh, but Rainer most certainly does dare. He practically prances across it, a gleeful grin stretching his lips in a way that’s almost ghoulish for how it tugs at his scarred cheek, pale eyes gleaming too brightly and too darkly all at once. As if the anticipation might unhinge him. (A foolish thought! The ‘hinge’ had never been anything more than an illusion.)

It doesn't take long to find what he wants - a rocky clearing, strewn with gravel mixed in amongst the packed earth. A fine arena for the spectacle he’s creating. And he does so hope that it shall be a spectacle. He circles the area before reclining himself beneath the midday sun, jaws splitting open on a thunderous roar that echoed off the cliffs. A challenge for the woman who’d dared to name herself Queen of the mountain. And an invitation. One that would reach @Markus and @Adalwolf in their murky swamp, and @Valaine's seashore sanctuary, and far, far beyond. He waits then, a self-satisfied smirk upon his maw, cloaked by an air of crafted frivolity.

Let them all watch as he took his crown. Let them gawk, as the lions of this land were so wont to do. May they snarl and sneer until they tore each other apart once more, until the grey stone was stained crimson, scarlet streams dripping down the cracks until they formed a red sea.

It’s only fitting, isn’t it? The Sigrun do so love to drown.

Rainer vs. @Morrigan
For Illyria Summit
Round 0 / 5

Art + Code by Dee

Within the territory, Parvati was safe. The aspiring medic failed to leave despite dried herbs fading to dust around them without replacement. Guilt for this did not overcome the gut instinct of fear. Their wounds were fading and thin, closely cropped silver fur now covered their rump, the ridges of scars visible only when they shifted in the right light, and Parvati wondered how they could fade so easily when the memory was like the blood of a guilty hand turning the sea incarnadine.

This safety could not be shaken by any inward thing; it was intrusion, unexpected, that tilted the level board on which they tried to place their worldview. The silver lion emerged from their den with their thin fur all smudged and their thin ridges of mane standing on end. Stark stiff on skinny limbs, rib cage shaking and abdomen drawn up. As though pursuing a nightmare, the silver lion kept to the windswept brown and grey stone, slinking across clefts of terrain and avoiding the snow and its snubbed, traitorous tracks. Where the snow was unavoidable, Parvati walked where it was light enough to brush aside with a front paw while walking backward.

The intruder was upon flat land within their pride. There was little on the Summit that was conventionally habitable and this large, stinky rogue was right in the middle of it. The roar had also mentioned the Mire, those beasts who kept chasing them, though there were none in current sight... Morrigan was also not in sight, and without her or anyone else the scout lacked courage of their own. Parvati ducked behind a slope line on the mountain side of the makeshift arena and froze with just enough of their head raised to be able to see. The flash of a bronze and gold mane strip might give them away, or it might just be a bird....

- attempting to be hidden

+10 Attend a spar or challenge to assess the wounds (double)
+10 Use the terrain to your advantage (double)
+10 Cover your tracks (double)

Bordeaux had obtained her freedom from Illyria only recently, encouraged to go far from there and hide herself until something could be done to help her mother. She had stayed away to the best of her ability, but she could not stop herself from going back on occasion. She could not know what became of her mother if she stayed away, keen to return to the fringes of the pride that she might pick up her mother's scent or maybe glimpse her within the area. Each time she was disappointed when there was no trace, her anxiety growing in lack of action. @Luther ♔ would have expected her to have come back to report to him a couple of days ago.

She was here to search once more, more frantic than before. To her alarm, there would be a summons ringing through the chilly air. Someone had come to try and take the crown from its ruler, and with it, take away her mother's release from the Mire. She ought to run away, the call sure to bring the very lion she was putting so much energy and time into avoiding. Instead, she would move towards the call, needing to know what was happening. She didn't want to think what it might mean for her, for Patchouli, if the queen was defeated.

She approached carefully, finding the place mostly empty. She would seek out some dense shrubbery, grateful for her smaller size in this instance, as it would make it easier for her to hide. She hoped to remain unnoticed there, less someone went to the effort of sniffing her out. If she was discovered by an unfriendly she would have to defend herself. She took some comfort in the feel of the small hollowed-out bone snugly tethered to the inside of her leg, filled with weaponized bird peppers that she had ground into a fine powder.

[Bordeaux is attempting to hide]_{BG — ART — CODE}

we're sick and tired
of wondering
praying to a god
that you don't believe

OOC: since I'm about to go out of town, please message me if you want to fight adalwolf!

---

Adalwolf had considered more than once challenging for this very pride, but the moment had never seemed quite right. It was difficult to imagine leading both a pride and a family, trying to make allies for the Rike and keep them organized and under control while simultaneously running a pride with non-family seeking to join. Rainer had shown promise, and when a call rang out from the mountainside, summoning the family to come and witness the fight for the mountain, Adalwolf was almost relieved. If one of the others were to take a pride he could continue to run the family, picking up the pieces left behind by Eulalia and Odhgrimm.

He was in the Mire when he heard the call, but it echoed for miles. He let out a return call, shouting his triumph while also summoning @Astarte. She would do well to witness this glorious event. Of course, @Rainer was not guaranteed a win, but even if he lost it would be only the beginning. The Sigrun sympathizer would only win so many times before falling beneath the claws of the Rike, paying for her loyalty to the Sigrun with her lifeblood in the snow.

It took time to travel to the mountain, but eventually, he made it there. The cold suited the Rike, just as their homeland did, and he would be happy to see the family settled there. His blood pounded in his veins as he made the climb and reached the border before finally beholding his cousin, standing strong and ready for the fight at hand. He roared again, a greeting to the man and a clear indication of his support and approval of the move he was making. This could only benefit them all.

searching for truth in
the lost and found
so the question I ask is
where the fuck is your god now

image by aurora, code by anyu

The Rike daughter had been on her way to the Summit to call for @Virgil when she'd heard the call ring out and her heart dropped, suddenly the air around her chilled her to the bone, she felt as if her blood might freeze over. And she quickly ducks for cover, moving to hide over the border and sneaking towards the challenge, then she stays on the outskirts, crawling carefully under a pine trees bristles, lifting herself from the snow slowly and into the tree branches above. The pine sab that helped coat her fur also helped mask her scent, and the needles gave her an earth minty tone, it hid her scent well enough and since she was so high up, catching her scent would be quite difficult.

She made sure to find herself a thick branch with thick pine needles covering her body as she watched, she wanted to run to @Virgil, to warn him, to warn @Morrigan or @Talisa but the girl knows she would not make it very far. And so she stays out, hiding, breath baited, dread seeping into her heart and chest aching, begged whatever higher power there was, if there was one, she even begged her mothers God, The Naesarpe even though she was not a true Devorre, that Virgil and his family would not be harmed.

Rusalka Is Attempting to Hide

Rolling 1d2: 2

Double Assassin Exp:
+20 Successfully stay hidden for the duration of a thread
+20 Sneak into another pride's territory without getting caught
+19 Practice covering your scent

CODE | ART | BG

5years, no bonus.

A challenge would ring out, reaching him all the way in the desert, though he was not quite at his home in the Oasis. The warmonger would pause, ears pulling forward as the sound called out for Morrigan. Ronin would growl softly, turning partially so that his skull faced the Oasis. The King would issue his own call, this one to his pride, calling forth those who wanted to fight. After the call was made, he would turn and make his way towards the Summit. He couldn’t tell who had issued the call, but if it was anything like last time, he knew that blood would be spilt. Ronin and Morrigan hand’t hashed out the finer details of their alliance, but he would not deny them his strength, claws and fangs if they were needed.

It was a long journey, by the time he arrived there was only one other present, @Adalwolf. He would let out a low rumble, tongue rolling over his lips in a hungry way. Excitement would course through him as he eyed the Rike, gaze slowly shifting to the challenger. Another Rike no doubt, though Ronin didn’t know this ones name. The warmonger stood at the ready, muscles seemingly relaxed, posture balanced with his head held at shoulder height, jaw relaxed- ready for battle. It was clear why he was there, it would only take the Queen calling for war for Ronin to send himself, and his pride, into battle.


How many more Rike need to die for you to leave the Sigrun alone, hmm? He would ask, clearly talking about Erna (the only Rike he knew had died).




--please message me before initiating a fight with Ronin--

He had not been here for the last challenge, but Morrigan had filled him in. another comes, and although Roarke can’t scent a pride on the man when he arrives and comes to stand among the Summit side of the gathering, the Mire stench is already thick in the air.

The giant says nothing, but he quickly notes an ally and few others here. No matter. Roarke has confidence in the queen, and she will be here soon. He frowns, but stands ready - expecting this to turn into a war, but not willing to be the one to strike the match.

(I'm cool with fights just pls tag me in discord!)

Her husband's summons reaches her only after she hears his call of triumph he sent back to the challenge, Astarte hurried to meet with her husband, joining him before he made it to Illyria, stepping up beside him, head held high, but not Higher than his, she made the climb with ease, not even out of breath as she made her way to the border. She had been born a Devorre, her fur, her body, it was meant for this frigid temperatures and harsh climate.

The lioness lowered her eyes and stayed beside her husband, not wanting to look Morrigan in the face, not when she knew Farrow was alive, not when she she'd came face to face with him and it had broken her heart. The crimson woman instead focused her eyes on a more annoying target, her lip curled as she sneered, his words causing the woman to pin her ears back and dig her claws into the cold earth. She only knew what her husband has spoke of, but it was enough that she sneered, her voice dripping with venom, "Last time I heard, more Sigrun have died at Rike paws than the other way around."

Double Barb Exp:
+20 Participate in a pride challenge
+20 Use a creative move in battle (Bear hugging & Roll w Isla)
+10 Observe a fight (Morrigan & Rainer)

A call for the Rike is a demands for her to impress, ever fearing punishment if she failed. She would rather fail while sinking claws into a salty heathen. She would rather die, or be maimed, have her beauty tarnished, while doing what was right. She knew well enough by now, by years ago, what the consequences were for fleeing, and analogously how much relief it was to succeed. Pale brown paws scurry, nervous in their many steps, following one and then another roar. The Rike bellowed back and forth at each other and she, but a subordinate, came silently, falling into step behind @Adalwolf just as a trough follows a wave.

Once she saw the tracks of others and the whiff from the mountain borders, she decided she was close enough to cut away. Unlike both warring families, Sarsaparilla was not brave, not bold, not triumphant. They wanted to intimidate. She wanted to win. Find the smallest little salt cube and make it crumble. Make it scream and suffer. She mouthed these key thoughts to herself as she slunk, body low, pressing upward against the wind and drifting her scent only down the trail of her own tracks.

She was the wrong color for winter, but she tried to hide in an overhanging ledge's shadow and squint to see from a distance. Two large males she didn't recognize. Large males meant they weren't a target for her but maybe she could learn some weakness to place pliant at the feet of her superiors. Her ears pitched forward. The brownish one was brave and held himself ready for a fight, but with confidence she took as offensive aggression. The other one is giant but silent.

-- attempting to hide

+10 Gather information about a character (double)
+10 Practice speed or stealth (double)

Léonie was always down to watch a spectacle, so when @Ronin summoned those who were ready to provide support for the Summit, she readily joined her Sovereign. She’d visited the Summit once before, when Morrigan had claimed it. It was impressive that the lioness had managed to wear her crown for as long as she had, and Léonie hoped her reign would endure, that she would defend her home from whatever threat opposed her.

The Scout followed her leader into the mountain, and hopped onto a pillar when it seemed the Sovereign had found his own seat. Ronin asked how many Rike had to die, only to be answered by the pissy @Astarte. Léonie had no idea what they were even talking about — she was pretty sure that the Summit was not ruled by the Sigrún. Either way, it sounded like the Sigrún needed to settle the score, if what the lioness said was true.

From her stony perch, Léonie sat down and hunched her shoulders forward, shuddering in the miserable cold. She would simply observe for now, patiently awaiting the Queen’s arrival.

Open for dominance/minor maim!
If minor maim, please DM me to discuss beforehand.

artwork • coding