welcome,
MAIN MENU
Season & Time

Summer
Feb 10th - Mar 23rd

02-17-2018, 03:11 PM
pack pages

                       

Resources
explore OOC Members Search Calendar Open Threads
guide Guidebook/Rules Biology Stars Sparring & Judging System
statistics Points History Cradle - Grave Legends Char. Contest
references Religion Hunting Healing & Herbs Prize Page Staff Donate
Open Cbox
Disclaimer
By using the chatbox you agree to the rules described on the Rules page under the Chatbox section. Have fun. :)

doutaini map

Map of Doutaini

Credits
Summer Icon © Kennaleecat
Current Layout Image © Sparrow
Map Drawing © Doodle
Coding © Tempy & Doutaini Staff
Original Content © Kaji & Crux
Characters © Their respective writers

Users browsing this thread:
1 Guest(s)
All Welcome unlucky soul
Posted 01-17-2018, 01:39 AM |
Rebel
Vaskor
Rebel Wolf
Male, 1.50
Mesomorph
30 in, 100 [malnutrition] lbs
0 ep
© Irase

Lifeless. A sea of mud. Certainly liquid yet it does not seem to feed the land. Yellow, wilting grass defeated by the perilous nature of the soil. Not fully dead, nor alive. Dying. Certainly it's fate will be no different from the hollow trees spread across the area. This land seems to be deserted by life for a long time. What an unfortunate place. What foul luck.

To think he walked the whole night to pass here quickly yet he didn't make it through. It would have been better to circle this place. Assuming it would be a short strip of land was wrong. He could regret his decision now but that would not change anything. He had to keep going. If he didn't make it out of this place once the sun reaches it's highest then he might just turn back. It would be a waste of time but it was still better than dying a foolish death.

The area didn't give off a welcoming feeling. There was not even the tiniest trace of food here. Even the grass tasted like sand. It was hard to keep it in and not just vomit everything last night. He was not the type of person to hope for a miracle. However, he already covered a good amount of distance. What if he was almost out of here? What if turning back now would make things only more tiresome. Wasting his time and strength needlessly. He was already thirsty. Maybe the liquid in the mud could help him?

He halted his steps, glancing at the surroundings, looking for a suitable spot to dig. Spotting one a few feet away. Good. He made his way over there in a certainly relaxed, contend manner. Digging his paws in the squishy soil to make room for the strange liquid to gather in. It took him a while but once he was finished with it he was oddly pleased with it. The scent might be a bit off but this should at least appease his thirst for a while. - Or so he thought.

Things turned out differently, though. The first sip tasted peculiar familiar but he could not tell what it was. The second mouth full made him cringe. It certainly tasted bad but it was not like he could not take it. Dirty puddles always taste bad. It was not wise to drink out of them but it was still better than dehydrating. After the third mouth full he just could not take it anymore. Turns out it was strangely hard too keep himself from vomiting. His vision blurred. He felt particular bad. His body urged him to get it out. Yet he stubbornly refused to give in. There was no other source of water around. Beggars could not be choosers. Yet he could not hold it. Coughing up the muddy water he wanted to keep in so bad.

---

"the sphere of words", the sphere of mind




[ Reply ]






Posted 01-17-2018, 08:25 AM |
Rebel (Site Helper)
Gorgon
Rebel Wolf
Male, 4.75
Meso-fighter
30 in, 130 lbs
15 ep
© sorceror
Vaskor
Navigating the pits had become somewhat effortless, lately; he neither cared about the mud or the weather, and long years of ill-use had inured him to anything else that might bother him. In the back of his mind was a voice that always reminded him there's always something worse than this, and, being the pragmatic type, he accepted the gospel truth. It might be raining, but he wasn't starving to death. There was always that boon.
Other people were clearly not so lucky. Gorgon had seen press gangs, back home. He knew when he was looking at an easy mark. Not, of course, that he was planning to kidnap the stranger and drag its skinny ass home to rebel to present to his new captain. The aging soldier paused in his travels to study the boy, nodded twice, and approached.
No force would be necessary here, just easy persuasion. He was nothing if not persuasive. He tacked a vague smile on his face, briefly, decided that it wasn't going to fool anyone, and stopped short in front of the stranger.
walking corpse.
But he had seen worse.
"Hey, kid," he announced, voice lightly accented with amusement. "You hungry? Tired? I got the cure for that if you come with."
"Or," he added, with a faintly distasteful and somewhat forced look of vague disgust at the mud coating his lower extremities, "You can stay, but things can always get worse out here. What's your name? Mine's Gorgon, of..Rebel."
It sounded weird coming out of his mouth, but he supposed he would get used to saying it eventually. He hesitated, and added, by way of explanation, "It's an army, sort of."
One with neither discipline or, as far he could tell, much in the way of proper soldiers. There was time to ponder that mystery later.
"Whaddya say?"

srry a bit short but i got work p soon ill make it up next time



[ Reply ]






Posted 01-17-2018, 12:12 PM |
Rebel
Vaskor
Rebel Wolf
Male, 1.50
Mesomorph
30 in, 100 [malnutrition] lbs
0 ep
© Irase

It did not take long to empty his upset stomach and thus to render his efforts completely useless. Even worse, his thirst seemed to have increased. He kept crouching over his little water hole, unsure how to proceed. Tired. Frustrated. He missed the lake back home. An easy approachable water source. Prey was plentiful, attracted by the clear water and flourishing woods. The hunting groups always brought back something to eat. It was fun to learn. He participated a few times in the group hunts but he was not very good in it. The memory of getting scolded for carelessly scaring away the targeted deer felt so distant. - As if it was out of another life time, not this one. Back then he didn't take it too seriously but now he understood. Letting the prey get away meant another day with an empty stomach. Another day of hunger.

The uncomfortable, foreign feeling from before did not disappear. The strange taste lingered on his tongue. Feeling bad; exhausted.

A voice.
His ears perked up followed by his head, suddenly facing a red stranger. He thought he was alone. Since when? He failed to notice his arrival. The realisation made him shudder. If the other wolf had wanted to he could have snapped his neck before Vaskor even noticed. He watched the man wide-eyed.

The promise of food and shelter sounded pleasant to the ears. Yet there had to be a catch somewhere. This was not the kind of place where you would kind-heartedly share those assets with an unknown face. Vaskor understood so far. Yet he wagged his tail faintly. He was well aware of the sorry state he was in. Nonetheless, the stranger had approached him first. It was only proper to return the greeting. A thankful smile appeared on his lips. "It is a pleasure to meet you, sir." Spring temperature was not a very pleasant one. It was rather cold. Now he regretted digging the hole for the water and soaking his legs in the process. He was not feeling all too good to begin with..

"My name is Vaskor.. Vaskor Dart, sir." He was not sure if the other would allow to address him by his name directly so the young one maintained his proper speech. The feeling the man gave off was rather powerful, and he said he was from an army - The scar on his face seemed to prove that. He did not dare to offend him. At times like this his formal education came in handy. "May I ask a question first?" He sheepishly stalked from one paw onto the other. Still remaining where he stood. "When you said army, what did you mean by that? It is not a pack?" His eyes were glued onto the so called Rebel wolf. Burning with genuine interest.

---

"the sphere of words", the sphere of mind



Gorgon



[ Reply ]






Posted 01-18-2018, 05:47 PM | This post was last modified: 01-18-2018, 05:47 PM by Gorgon
Rebel (Site Helper)
Gorgon
Rebel Wolf
Male, 4.75
Meso-fighter
30 in, 130 lbs
15 ep
© sorceror
Vaskor
He eyed the pathetic stranger thoughtfully, face betraying nothing except a certain deeply ingrained skepticism. Sure, the bedraggled teen didn't look like much, and most certainly had few, if any, skills, but he was aware that it was often as easy to secure a creature's loyalty by saving it from drowning as it was by offering it a bribe. If he could manage both at once, he was sure of someone who owed him something. Gorgon wasn't really the type to enjoy machinations of the sort; he was very far from a politician, barely even a competent commander at the worst of times. Still, it was always nice to be able to call in a favor, even if the favor was from a person who might or might die of pneumonia in the near future.
"A pack? Certainly," he responded, briefly unsure if he was lying. Rebel was, in his opinion, a loose ship; it rubbed some part of him that liked predictability the wrong way. For all his internal monologue about how much he hated being told what to do, he couldn't pretend that he survived well without fairly iron-fisted leadership. Having a system to buck against was what he lived for, apparently. The proof, if any was needed, was clearly in the fact that he had lately looked more like the scrubby teenager in front of him than he had the slightly too heavy mercenary he was now.
It was hard to tell whether it was either a pack or an army or just a bunch of ill-tempered idiots banding together under someone who was so much stronger than they that there was no fighting it. In time, he supposed he would find out. Or not. If he was honest with himself, he had little interest in the lives or problems of his packmates. He primarily cared about keeping himself in the mix as long as possible. Until they figured him out, or he died, or someone else stronger than their beloved commander managed to fight their way to the top of the horde.
Still, for all intents and purposes, it was better than nothing. Or so he kept telling himself. It was certainly a place where this kid would be better off.
"But," he added, with a raised eyebrow, "You don't exactly look like you're in a position to be picky, here. Least I can say is that you'll get fed. And you stand a good chance of getting in. They aren't picky. I mean, I work for them."
He assumed a certain amount of desperation was why Charlotte had decided he was the best option; she was definitely not manipulating him, he didn't think. Or maybe she just felt sorry for him. Or had a crush on him. Stranger things had happened in his life. He shrugged his shoulders and fixed the runt with an interested stare.
"So?"



[ Reply ]






Posted 01-20-2018, 03:19 PM | This post was last modified: 01-20-2018, 04:36 PM by Vaskor
Rebel
Vaskor
Rebel Wolf
Male, 1.50
Mesomorph
30 in, 100 [malnutrition] lbs
0 ep
© Irase

True. The older male was right. He was not in a position he could afford to be picky about anything right now. Anywhere was better than this godforsaken place! If he declined the offer there was no telling when he would manage to acquire his next meal - if any. Even water was hard to find here. At least if one wanted to digest it... His gaze wandered down towards the watery soil, slightly embrassed about his recent display of ignorance.

Who was he trying to fool here? Refusing the stranger, Gorgon, was not an actual option. - Never was. He shifted his gaze back to the bulky man. Smiling demurely, then nodding his head. "Okay. I will follow you, sir." He walked up to the soldier in red; slightly shaky for the remainder of his upset stomach and the chilly air. Halting at the level of the Rebel wolfs left shoulder with a foot of distance from the other. Wagging his tail politely. Shifting his head so he could still face the muscular, red man. Where to?

He didn't know if this so called pack of his, or army, would take him in the end. From what the other said it sounded like there weren't many requirements. However, the last part the red soldier said made him worry. He didn't know if the other meant it as a joke. But if one of their standards was being muscled or having experience he was sure he would be cast aside. After all he was nothing but an underfeed runt. He might not even stand a chance against one of his peers. He might have had a chance against other underfeed loners as long as they were worse off than him - he had done so once or twice. But up until now he tried to avoid trouble as much as possible. Therefore, he had no confidence in his ability to fight. But an army does fight, doesn't it?

"This pack of yours... What do I have to do to get in?", he asked, calmly with a hint of briskness. Carefully hiding away his anxiety. "Anything I have to know? A tip or hint of some sort?" Slowly testing how familiar he can act around his beneficator and potential senior packmate. Shifting his weight from one paw to another. If there was absolutely no hope for him to join them the man would not have approached him.

And even if he ended up rejected by Gorgon's pack... Rebel. Maybe following this local wolf would still help him to pass this hollow place instead of wasting his time to turn back from where he came from. Or. At worst this so-called army of his was located right at from where he set off into this unholy wasteland. Nothing to be done about that should that be the case. On the other hand, he should have caught the scent of a pack nearby if that was the case. He didn't. Therefore, it was very unlikely for his journey to end up where he started outside of this deserted mudlands.

---

"the sphere of words", the sphere of mind



Gorgon



[ Reply ]






Posted 01-20-2018, 09:02 PM |
Water ( Admin )
Keston
Water Alpha
Male, 4.25
Endomorph
36 in, 135 lbs
809 ep
© Julie
He is no stranger to the unpleasant welcoming that Kuro Pit offered, but he ventured here nevertheless with the promise of new futures under his command. Spring was alive and had breathed new life into Doutaini with the return of frequent showers and a vast array of foliage that sprung up in response. Keston noted the rebirth as a reminder from the gods while he traveled westward, filling his spirit with a sense of determination as he escaped the guise of camouflage from the golden shores of his homeland and the glistening, cerulean sea. There was no doubt Keston was a child of the ocean with his head of blonde hair and brilliant clearwater eyes, but it was the more unusual features for a wolf that set him apart from his peers. Encircling his neck was a series of longer tufts that mimicked the mane of a young lion and gave birth to his surname—the Lioncourts. Keston bore the name and mane proudly as he descended down the sloping walls into the heart of the pit, mud splattering up his limbs and across his undersides.

He was an amiable man that had settled into his place as Kei’s ambassador for the past two years, often finding pleasure in welcoming the newest travelers as they cross through the infamous gate of Kuro Pit. A future awaited them and Keston was in search for a few ambitious souls that could help restore the utopian kingdom to its rightful glory. Russet-edged ears turned towards a pair of men, one seemingly younger, and arrived within a close enough distance to catch the tail-end of their conversation. As always, he wore a polite smile upon his features that offered credibility to his lion-hearted nature and lowered his muzzle in a brief nod before addressing the younger of the two men. “Should you find his pack is not to your liking, perhaps it would interest you to know there are other choices—eight of them, in fact. My name is Keston and I lead one of them, the Water pack at Cerulean Waters.” After all, if one were to venture all this way to Doutaini, surely they would like to explore the idea that set Doutaini apart from the outside world? The gods and their gift of magic were a phenomenon in their own right, and the leonine king offered the stranger his first taste.

A nearby turtle shell would be useful even after the creature’s death as Keston inhaled suddenly, holding his breath while the sapphire gem at his throat pulsed to life with a faint, but brilliant glow. Devoted to Kei and her element, he had spent the past years learning her element and excelling at the art of control—the lion’s focus was unwavering as he concentrated on his surroundings. Overhead, clouds amassed and spilled a light drizzle off to the trio’s left in an attempt to leave them untouched, and positioned over the shell for collection. A few moments passed until the shell was filled and Keston exhaled with much relief. He moved to collect the shell and present it to the newcomer with a look of encouragement, for travelers often arrived rather parched from their journey. His attention returned towards their left and witnessed how the gentle rain had exacerbated the state of Kuro Pit’s thick footing of mud. The gem began to glow again and Keston inhaled once more, breathing in while in the same instant, he called away the excess water from the small area by means of evaporation. Returning the spot to its previous conditions, the Lioncourt man eased back on his haunches to rest after his exhibition on the utility offered through Doutaini’s magic, the sides of his torso moving rapidly as he recovered his breath.
Vaskor



[ Reply ]






Posted 01-26-2018, 06:27 AM |
Rebel
Vaskor
Rebel Wolf
Male, 1.50
Mesomorph
30 in, 100 [malnutrition] lbs
0 ep
© Irase

Surprisingly, the two of them were not the only one's out here. Shortly before the departure another stranger arrived. A blonde giant which vaguely reminded Vaskor of the creatures out of tales back home. So called lions. As the fur around this strangers throat looked more like a mane than anything else - or at least what Vaskor imagined it to be like. He introduced himself as Keston, seemingly the leader of some pack called Water pack located at a place called Cerulean Waters. With so much water in the names this so-called pack of his sounded rather appealing. He bent down his head towards the blond wolf. "Nice to meet you, Keston -- sir.", politely giving his greetings. Only after doing so he raised his head again to gaze at the scene in front of him.

Turns out his first impression might have been too good. The giant blond seemed strangely concentrated. Blue. - How strange. All of a sudden there was this faint glow in front of the maned one's chest. It was then Vaskor took notice of the weird object dangling around the blond's throat for the first time. Some sort of ..talisman? The younger never saw a wolf actually wear anything around their precious neck for it might become a disadvantage in a fight or whenever.

Out of nowhere it begun to drizzle nearby. The timing for that was odd. As well as the particular small area it effected. A few feet away on his right side. It was as if the water wolf, Keston, controlled the weather. Vaskor could only watch in a daze. The odd occurrence only lasted for a few seconds. But it was enough to frighten the youth out of his wits. His hackles raised on their own accord. More of an instinctive reaction to the impossible, formerly impossible thought, than an act of his own. He lowered his posture, watching the odd being in front of him wide-eyed.

A small shell of water was placed in front of the mud-legged young wolf. Vaskor froze in place, not daring to move. The maned beast seemed like he wanted him to drink out of it. This weird liquid of unknown origin... Was it really drinkable? Vaskor had his doubts. Then again, would this kind-hearted looking stranger really try to poison the weak him? Just moments ago he was spitting out the dirty water from the muddy grounds. What was placed in front of him was, in contrast to that, crystal clear water. He suspected it might be even clearer than some river water he came by while on the run. Who was he to refuse the kindness of this wolf?

Vaskor lowered his head, pausing to watch the precious content of the shell for a moment, still wondering if he was seeing things, then decisively taking his first mouth full of water. If it was an illusion it was a very good one, Vaskor thought. The water was pleasantly cool; refreshing. If it was not for the still lingering after taste of the dark water from before and his agitated stomach it might have tasted even better. The shell emptied quickly. As soon as there was no water left, the youth backed away. Tensing up again as he remembered the mystic blonde. "T- Thank you.", he muttered slightly embarrassed. Bowing towards the Water Alpha again.

If it was so easy to get water, clean water, why was this place so... ..lifeless? Perhaps the state of the land had to do with such kind of peculiarities. Maybe the act of this wolf made the land decline; deserted by life. The strange event certainly scared Vaskor. It was so strange and unnatural. Witchery! Yet it was amazing. So powerful. He eyed the sapphire stone on the blonde's talisman thing. The glow from before... It certainly had to do with this stone.. He lifted his gaze. Not wanting to appear bad-mannered. Trying to relax. Yet the sight that shifted his view on the world forever was not something to take lightly.

His view wandered back to Gorgon. Yes. He had to follow him. To get a meal. Maybe join his pack... Or army as he called it previously.. It was a good excuse to leave for now. Also, it was better to fill his stomach with food sooner than later, too. "I will remember..", Vaskor lowered his head grateful towards the blonde.

---

"the sphere of words", the sphere of mind



Vaskor exits the scene (to follow Gorgon into Rebel)

Keston

(Vaskor is kind of too surprised to remember he did not introduce himself^^')



[ Reply ]