Alone in the Woods (Open) (I hope this is fine!)

[Elizabeth]

(Okay, um first "real" post, so we'll see how this goes. And also, I kinda don't know exactly the geography of Mossflower and stuff so... the best thing is to make my character lost...haha! Also are there any rules on what I make the weather like? All I know is that it's winter.)

Aloyoshenka groaned. He had been over this patch of stone at least five times. Well, he hated to admit it but he was hopelessly lost.

He stood still and looked around to get an idea of his surroundings. The sun shone through the tree tops sparkling on the fresh layer of frost gathered on the ground. Solidified water hardened to the tree branches started to melt and looked very slick in the morning light. Dew drops started to appear on the wild plants and vines.

That crisp, lively feel often experienced on a clear cool morning started to get to Aloyoshenka. The next thing he noticed was that it was disturbingly frigid out. His very light garb was highly inappropriate for this type of weather, no matter how mild some beasts considered it. He stamped his feet and watched his warm breath waft off into the chill air.

(It's kinda short but it doesn't have to be an essay does it? ;D)

[Vikenti Whitedeath]

(You can make the weather whatever you like matey! By the way, nice post! I want to use Haaken, my vole.)

Haaken Carnesir walked through the northern woods on a fine snowy day. He preferred these barren northern forests to Mossflower. Even though he lived in Mossflower, he found it was much to inhabited for his liking. Now Haaken didn't hate company, but it was hard to read with some-beast talking your head off.

Even now Haaken was reading as he walked. His cane made a Crunch Crunch as it hit the layer of ice over the snow. In his free paw Haaken held a book. It was an enormous green tome that would make most beasts dizzy just looking at it. But the title, A Complete Study of the Differences Between the Seasons, was enough to make one faint. Haaken was a reading a perticuly interesting (or boring depending on your veiw of coplex books) section from the chapter abount winter.

Suddenly, in the middle of a sentence about cloud patternes which ment heavy snow, Haaken stopped his walk and looked up. About fifty feet away from him a pine marten stood, looking rather cold and lost. Now most gentle-beasts would have taken fright to seeing a pine marten, but Haaken was a strict believer that a beasts inner qualities would make his outer disposition, and that species had nothing to do with it. During his long life he had met "bad beasts" who were good, and "good beasts" who were bad. Instead of running he began walking straight up to the marten, making up a little poam as he went. He spoke it under his breath, so that only he could here.

"Once on a cold mid-winters day,
Through the forest I made my way.
I saw young marten alone in the frost,
And to myself I thought 'he is lost!'"

When Haaken got within hearing range of Aloyoshenka he exclaimed in a jolly voice, "Hello their my good fellow! Are you lost?"

[Elizabeth]

Aloyoshenka jumped and looked up rather startled. He eyed the pudgy creature standing before him with a shocked expression on his face. He just stood there as if he hadn't heard the beast.

"Huh? Um... Who? Why... What are you doing here?" He said in a loud shaken voice, "I thought I was alone. Apparently I'm wrong?"

He shook his head and stood silent for a while regaining his composure. "Well hello anyway... And I may as well tell you... yes I'm lost." He seemed reluctant in saying this but he was happy after he did. Maybe this funny little beast could even help him???

[Elicia]

((Ah, well, I'm sure that there's plenty of room for me!))

Shadows. That was her domain.

The shadows.

She lived and breathed darkness, inhaled the bitter air that came from leaves tucked away beneath a blanket of snow. She was one with the shadows-she was one herself, her almost black fur and dark eyes blending her in and hiding her from her prey. Quietly she would walk, and quietly would she stalk up upon even the most unsuspecting of vermin-like this one.

That was her job.

She was a mercenary.

Trained to kill.

Her lips twisted up in a savage smile as she walked in the shadows around the pine-marten. Ori would have fun tonight-much fun indeed, and although she was not wicked at heart, killing vermin gave her such pleasure that she almost rejoiced in the blood that stained her paws. She was a killer, and her long ears did not move even though her paws slipped over the dappled snow and her dark eyes ran over her intended target with a practiced ease. Me gel, if'n there's any beast who's perilous, it's you, wot! She thought. If thoughts had been spoken words, the hare's position would have been given away immediately. However, unlike most of her kind, Oriana had the sense to keep her mouth shut while working.

Then something happened that made her grit her teeth in frustration and she barely quelled the desire to stomp the snow.

A vole walked right in front of the pine-marten-blocking her line of sight. Being as there were no more shadows, there was no way that Ori could get around to a new position. Her paw tightened into a fist around her dark wood bowstring, and the arrow in her other paw snapped in two. Suddenly, dropping the broken arrow, Oriana knew she could stay hidden no longer. She strode out from the shadows, smiling warmly.

"'Ello? An' wot can Ah do fer ye kind chaps t'day?" She was the picture of innocence as she emerged, and no beast could have ever guessed her previous intentions-not that she had forgotten them, oh no. This particular beast would have to earn a lot of her trust before she even would consider taking her paw off of her bowstring and the other out of the quiver.

[Elizabeth]

(Is it ok for me to post again? If not, my bad...)

Aloyoshenka jumped at the snap and then turned quickly as he heard the voice. A female? And a hare at that! He grew very tense and stared at the approaching creature. Hares are from the Mountain aren't they? The Mountain took my brother.

His mouth was set in a thin grim line his eyes were narrowed and he was poised for action. His paw rested on the hilt of his rapier... He never liked that rapier, it always felt light and unbalanced. It definitely wasn't his style of weapon. He looked straight in the eyes of the hare. He didn't know what to think. Should he get revenge for his brothers death? Or perhaps this hare wasn't even from The Mountain?

"Nothing." he said. "Nothing!" he repeated, louder this time. "And what do you want from me?" he snarled. He hadn't even glanced at the vole during this period. In fact he had forgot that he was even there. He had forgot the cold. He even forgot that this beast he was staring at had her paw on a dangerous looking weapon.

[Vikenti Whitedeath]

"Huh? Um... Who? Why... What are you doing here? I thought I was alone. Apparently I'm wrong?"

"Apparently so," Haaken said calmly.

"Well hello anyway... And I may as well tell you... yes I'm lost."

"Where are you trying to go?" asked Haaken, "if your headed for Mossflower, I can show you there."

"'Ello? An' wot can Ah do fer ye kind chaps t'day?"

Haaken heard Oriana before he saw her. The hare looked friendly, but her paw was on her weapon. Haaken slowly shut his book and slipped it into a pouch he wore by his side. He spread his legs in a wide stance and planted both fore-paws firmly on his cane, looking as imposing as a short old vole could.

"Don't worry," he said to the hare, firmly but not angrily, "this marten does not mean any harm."

"Nothing. Nothing! And what do you want from me?"

This angry burst came suddenly from the pine marten. Haaken turned to Aloyoshenka in surprise. "Calm down," he said, "what is wrong with you?"

[Glavon]

One pine marten. Vermin. It was her job to kill.

Arawolf Rainclaw, a vermin slayer, easily glimpsed the three creatures through the bare trees. A black hare, who was wearing quite a dangerous expression, was watching the other two, a vole and the pine marten that the warrior otter's target. She didn't care whether the marten was on the good side, as the vole claimed. The marten would die. Today.

She strode out of the trees, nodding respectfully to the black hare and smirking at the pine marten, a dangerous gleam lighting her blue-gray eyes. The vole was a whole different story. Could be vermin, could be goodbeast. She didn't know, but it was helping the marten. It looked pretty old and harmless. So what? she thought. She would just shorten the vole's death by a few days. No real harm done.

Arawolf knew the hare was good; as such, she moved to stand by the black creature.

She grinned evilly at the enemy marten and maybe vole, drawing her flamberge.

[Elicia]

Oriana raised one dark eyebrow. "Ah may be a hare, mate, but that don't mean Ah h'enjoy killin' just anybeast that Ah come 'cross. Th'name's Ori. Ori Greenleaf." Her strange mix of accents took her words and changed them into something different....something a lot more confusing. She sounded a bit like a Highlander, a bit like a squirrel, a bit like a hare, a bit like an otter, etc. Her travels had taken her far and wide, and so she never stayed in one place to collect a pure accent-only a trace.

"An'unless yore in t'habit o'killin' most anybeast tha' comes 'long, Ah'd say that Ah want t'be mates, old chaps! Oh-hi, me gel!" Ori sent a serious bow towards Arawolf. Then, she smiled winningly, and her grip on the bowstring visibly relaxed, although it did not loosen. "There's a thing in t'world called trust, matey, an'mebbe yore thinkin' tha' Ah havnae won that yet from ye, am Ah correct?" She laughed now, her face brightening despite the fact that her fur was as dark as shadows and her eyes matched it. Ori loved black, being black, wearing black, seeming invincible. It was a wonderful feeling, being invincible...and when she was in the shadows, the hare knew she was invincible.

"Nea, Master Vole, 'e's right t'suspect. Ah'm a fighter a'heart, ye ken? Ah don' kill fer fun, but Ah've lived in plenty h'of places wit beasts that did. Tha's wot Ah do, eh? Kill them evil types." She bowed, a flourishing bow, very fancy and intended to seem at least a little over the top. However, that would match up with her species' general description-rather spastic and random, even if Ori herself wasn't like that.

However, first she had to win this vole's trust. It was true that she wasn't the kindest-looking beast out there, but she was quite pretty, and when she smiled her eyes and face lit up. "If'n ye don' mind mah askin', but wot're yore names? Ah've given ye mine, an' if'n tha's not enough then Ah don' know wot else Ah can do t'win that right from ye masters."

[Elizabeth]

An insane otter great... just absolutely wonderfully great. Next there will be a large, fat badger with spiked boots, red eyes, a big lumpy nose, and a battle axe. Aloyoshenka snickered. Ignoring his new found enemy, for he did not wish to pick a fight in his current state, he turned to someone who may just be of some help to him. "Listen Missy," he said, not so unfriendly this time, "I do need help, I'm sorry. And my name is Aloyoshenka Vasiliev, like it means anything... Anyhow I'm lost, I'm alone, and I'll die of cold and starvation soon if I can't find help. If you guide me, take me somewhere, I don't know how I'll ever repay you."

After what seemed like a speech for him he stopped looking somewhat embarrassed. Here he was having a conversation with a beast as others stood around him. It was hard to believe he had been alone for months without seeing a single creature before this happened. He glanced from one face to another. One fearsome, a fighter's face, a killer. One looked experienced, pretty, and yet mysterious in a way. One indifferent, patient, calm.

Aloyoshenka waited hand still frozen to the hilt of his sword.

[Vikenti Whitedeath]

Haaken stared as a mad looking otter entered the scene and stood next to the dark hare. The vole couldn't help but feel that this situation couldn't get any worse. But surprisingly, it got better. Oriana began acting more friendly. When she smiled, Haaken lost most of his original distrust of her.

"I'm sorry," Haaken said, "it was just a misunderstanding. My name is Haaken Carnesir, a scholar and, though my age is great, a swords-master." He finished this with a bow and turned to Arawolf. The strange otter had not yet spoken. "How about you," he asked her, "what is you name and occupation?"

[tacticalotter2]

OOC, well i never come out of character but whatev: Sorry that this is so short but I didn't want to do to much to start.



Rogg Streambattle was concerned. The young otter had been contracted by a weasel to hunt down another otter named Arawolf Rainclaw. He was a mercenary and had neutralized many creatures before but this was different; he had never killed another otter before. At first he had not had been concerned with this fact, but he had been tracking his target for three days now and he had time to think. Could the mercenary otter really bring himself to kill another of his species, especially a female? He thought not, but then he thought of what the weasel had offered to him as payment; three rings with green emeralds embedded in the gold bands. The rings had reminded him of his home Green Isle, he wanted to go back there... He forced himself to stop thinking of the cool streams, the crashing waves upon the golden beaches... Why could he not stop thinking of his home? He had left there of his own accord and was happy here. Or was he? He still did not know if he could bring himself to kill the vermin slaying otter.

A while later, he sensed another otter nearby, the mercenary otter adjusted his black armor and drew his sword in the reverse-grip style and cautiously advanced. Was this the time Rogg must kill one of his own kind? He hoped that it didn't come to him having to terminate his target. He stopped and dropped to the ground as he heard other creatures talking up ahead. He stopped and strained his ears to listen.....

[Glavon]

An'unless yore in t'habit o'killin' most anybeast tha' comes 'long, Ah'd say that Ah want t'be mates, old chaps! Oh-hi, me gel! There's a thing in t'world called trust, matey, an'mebbe yore thinkin' tha' Ah havnae won that yet from ye, am Ah correct?

Arawolf shrugged. "Well, you look like you want to kill that pine marten, as do I. Therefore...only slightly." She smirked slightly and twirled the steel flamberge expertly in a whirl of steel as the old vole spoke.

How about you, what is you name and occupation? the vole, Haaken, asked her.

Arawolf debated. Surely there could be no harm in telling a simple vole, a good hare, and a soon to be dead pine marten her name. "Arawolf Rainclaw. Vermin Slayer." she stated simply and focused her eyes on the marten. "That means that that pine marten's going to be fishbait when I'm done with it."

Suddenly, she heard something so quiet a normal beast's ears wouldn't have been able to sense it; the hiss of blade being drawn. With a sudden smirk on her face, she whirled around and, thanks in part to her hawk-like eyesight, immediately spotted another otter.

"What do you want?" she snarled.

[tacticalotter2]

OOC: oops sorry bad mosque.


Rogg was watching the scene from the cover of a low-bowered pine, the snow on the ground almost blinded the otter. He squinted his eyes as he listened. The otter!! She must be the one who Rogg was supposed to kill. It was unmistakably his target.

He silently drew his bow, placed a poisoned shaft along the yew bow and pulled it back, sighting through the trees at the otter's unprotected neck. An easy shot for an experienced assassin. Beads of sweat began to form on the young otter's brow as he nerved himself for the shot, he had shot creatures in the back before, but why was he sweating? He began to tremble as he saw the other otter's face, the most beautiful he had ever seen.
"C'mon Rogg, just breath and release, just like you were trained to. She would kill you if she had the chance." He didn't believe himself as he held the taught bow.

What do you want?

Rogg was surprised that the otter had spotted him. He let the taught bowstring slowly go, he took the shaft from the string and swallowed. He was dazzled by the sheer beauty of the other otter. He acted embarrassed as he replied.
"Uh...well...I was trying to shoot a pigeon that was behind your group." He tried to lie. But Rogg Streambattle was not the best of liers...

[Vikenti Whitedeath]

Haaken's face remained emotionless as Arawolf gave her name, job, and clear intention to kill Aloyoshenka. Haaken wasn't going to stop a fight if there was one, he would let the younger beasts duke it out. He was slightly surprised when Arawolf turned and spoke to a bush behind her. "What is in the bush miss?" he asked Arawolf. The slight creak of a bow-string being pulled back made the fur stand up on the back of his neck. He sprang up next to Arawolf and pointed his cane at the bush threateningly. "Stand back!" he said out to Arawolf. Then, to whatever was in the bush he called, "show yourself!"

[Elicia]

Oriana, unlike the others, did not panic. Instead, she grinned wolfishly, winked at the pine-marten, then, fast as lightning, pulled an arrow from her quiver and notched it to her bow. Lazily, she spoke. "Ah dinnae know if ye're tryin' t'scare us, sirrah, but it ain't workin'. Ah'm much too h'experienced fer that. B'sides. Ye'd be dead right now if'n Ah want'd ye dead." She smiled, and pulled her bowstring back a little further, taking sight.

"Nae, sah, Ah sorely doubt tha' there was somethin' in th'bushes b'hind us-now was there, mistah?" She winked, but her black ears stood sharp and straight. "Now if'n ye don' mind, Ah'd like t'hear yore name, h'age, an'occupation, sharp now!" Oriana barked out, still sighting along the bow. "Chin up, footpaws t'gether, shoulders back, an' a nice salute! Ah'll have naw nawnsense from ye!" Her black eyes held just a twinkle of amusement, for she knew that the otter had no choice but to obey her. Chances were that he even had heard of her, for Ori could see by his build and expression and by the way that he had drawn his bow that he was a mercenary like herself.

"Ah'll give ye three seconds, sah, an' if Ah don' have an answer then ye'll be runnin' 'ome t'mommy wit a 'ole 'tixt yore ears!"

[tacticalotter2]

Rogg was mesmerized by Arawolf but the hare's clipped voice broke him out of his daze dropping his bow and come to attention. He replied to the hare giving his best thousand-mile stare.

"Rogg Streambattle. Twenty six. Mercenary. I do not think that it is proper to salute a creature not in uniform as I cannot see your rank. Anyway, I probably outrank you, ma'am"
He then looked the hare straight in the eye.
"Theres no need to point that weapon at me, I have no wish to kill any of you"

Every muscle in Rogg's body was tense, if the hare fired there would be virtually no chance of dogging the shaft at that range. If she did fire, then the mercenary otter would have to take the arrow in his forearm, hopefully the small armor plates would be hit by the missile and not harm the otter. His paw slowly strayed to his sword as he spoke...

[Glavon]

Ah'll give ye three seconds, sah, an' if Ah don' have an answer then ye'll be runnin' 'ome t'mommy wit a 'ole 'tixt yore ears!

Arawolf chuckled lowly and nodded. "Of course, you'll probably find yourself with a couple broken bones, bruises, and other fatal wounds, courtesy of me," she added with a vicious smirk, fingering the handle of her flamberge as she watched the otter carefully, but he seemed to be watching her.

"What?" she snapped before the otter turned to look at Oriana.

Rogg Streambattle. Twenty six. Mercenary. I do not think that it is proper to salute a creature not in uniform as I cannot see your rank. Anyway, I probably outrank you, ma'am. Theres no need to point that weapon at me, I have no wish to kill any of you.

"I completely believe that, otter," she said, disregarding the fact that she's heard the otter's name.

[tacticalotter2]

"Of course, you'll probably find yourself with a couple broken bones, bruises, and other fatal wounds, courtesy of me,"

The other otter's voice was like sweet music on Rogg's ears. But her words almost made him smile. But he tried not to show it.
"Oh I'm sure you would just love to beat me to a pulp, but thats not part of the plan."


Did these fools really want to take him on? He did not truly wish to harm them now, but if they attacked he would have take them down. An otter, a hare, an old vole and a marten, the odds were in Rogg's favor. If they made a move he would take the hare down first, she looked as if she would put up the most fight. Then he would deal with the marten and the vole. He would try not to kill any of them, it was not necessary to slay all of them. His paw started to grip his blade's hilt.

"I completely believe that, otter,"

Rogg still tried not show any emotion.
"Well I certainly am glad that you believe me"
He replied with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. The way that she said 'otter' was like the soft falling of snow in a woodland glade. But he would not fight unless he needed to. No amount of treasure or currency would justify the mercenary otter having to kill his young, beautiful target. She did look very angry to Rogg as she spoke though...

[Glavon]

Oh, I'm sure you would just love to beat me to a pulp, but thats not part of the plan.

"And what plan might that be?" she snarled. "The plan where you make me so ticked off I carve you into pieces? Or the plan where I grab that bow out of your paws and snap it in half? Or-"

She broke off abruptly when she saw the otter's paw go to the hilt of his sword. "Get your paw away from that toy," she said dangerously. "You don't want to prick anyone with that toothpick, do you?"

Well, I certainly am glad that you believe me.

"I don't believe you understand the meaning of sarcasm, Rogg." she replied shortly, saying the otter's name with as much sarcasm as she could put into her voice.

[Elizabeth]

"Oh wow..." thought Aloyoshenka. "The male otter certainly isn't going to kill the female. But I wouldn't have to worry about protecting HER anyway." He had drawn his sword a while back in case and now tossed it from one hand to the other. When it came to fighting this marten was clearly at home. His muscular form moved into a fighting stance and his whole body tensed. The tattoo on his chest rippled to match the movement of his body. He was standing alongside the hare and the vole facing the two otters.

"Break it up!" He finally yelled, in a stronger, clearer voice than had been heard from him thus far. "If you want me, well? Come and get me!" He roared. "You just keep standing there like a bunch of babies, hurling sarcasm and threats at each-other but your not proving ANYTHING to ANYONE!!!" He now had a terrible scowl on his face and his paw was clenched so tight around his sword hilt that it looked painful. He looked from one otter to the other as if challenging them... and indeed he was.