Wulfrik's return...

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Mausman
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Wulfrik's return...

Unread post by Mausman » Wed Feb 06, 2019 11:00 am


Image

"I do not have time for any of your final words, Zhent" As crossbow-string sang in high pitch

Image



Basic Information
Name: Wulfrik von Dunkelwald
Aliases: Hound, Wulf, The Wolf, Wolfhound, Gargoyle, Cù Sith
Gender: Male


Profession: Unknown, used to be Witch Hunter. Word is he has been seen aiding adventurers at the moment.
Faction: Hunters of Vengeance

Accent: Well articulated common. Educated vocabulary.

Physical Information
Height: 1m92
Weight: 85 Kilograms
Body build: Muscular, broad
Skin type: Rough
Hair style: Tail, dark brown.
Eyes: Stone-cold-blue.
Skin: Caucasian.
Body-markings: His torso is riddled in scars, back covered by scars of whippings.

Appearance

Wulfrik wears a black longcoat and wide brimmed hat. A pristine white shirt with high collar is worn underneath. A bandolier sports various curio and grenade-like objects. On his back, the man now sports a shield. From belt, hang both scabbard with curved blade in it and crossbow.

Handsome, strong features adorn his face. Sharp line of jaw and neatly trimmed beard. His hair has fade-shaved sides, tucked in a neat tail of brown.
He carries himself with a calm confidence, but his gaze betrays he is not one to mess with. Where once anger and sadness lingered in his gaze, there now is sheer determination in them, even some warmth.

Items of note

Hidden gift
The man keeps a cherished gift upon his person, hidden from public eye.

Silver key
A silver key, it is polished, but shows marks of the passing of time

Locket
Within locket is a strand of white hair




Theme

1)

"No, I most certainly shall not dress in white"


2)

"You will regret that choice..."

3)

"I have your life in my hands and every debt shall be paid..."



Relations
Laureate
Hidden: show
It matters not what you think of the man and his choice of speech. He is my Laureate. My Wisdom. My Brother. I will not have you ridicule him, only -I- am allowed such. In his presence prefered, akin the Brother I have come to see him to be to me.
--Alas, we seem to have drifted in recent days. Where is your mind at, Brother? I stated before. -Lead- us. It is not a chain we ask, it is vision and pack-sense...
Horned Beauty
Hidden: show
Sensuality incarnate, Beauty, Whimsical, Verbal skills like none other. She is a friend, confidant, a pillar in her own wisdom shared with me. She brings joy onto my Brother, therefor, she is, my sister.
--Offers counsel when frought with questions, dubbed me, Cù Sith. T'is been some time since last we spoke. I fear your moniker for me has become manifest.
Tel'quias ne ent aelamaanirelv revar
Hidden: show
Mentee, Wild Heart, Capricious. She will be the Death of me one day. A lot of promise lingers, but a lot of tempering the hot steel still is required to make her a fine hunter yet. I shall never back down from her requests made to me until she revokes these herself.
My lifeline after spirit was Sundered, our fates entwined. I shall not abandon, she promised to keep believing...layer of frost diminished
--My everything dream, my heart. A man will -show- her his promise. Her free and wild heart shall always remain that, until I breathe my last. Her laughter and all her ways are the fondest of memories that replaced dark ones. A man has learned to work and grow.
Thorn
Hidden: show
Younger Brother, more in common than we assumed with another. A lot of promise. 'Ware, ye wicked. For a Wolf on your trail with a Thorn in thy side to be? Shall cripple you proper, that judgement might be given in Thundering Unison.
--Time to grow, little Brother. I am sorry you are troubled by that which has manifest as of late. I stand with you as you stand with me. Would, that you grew a little more in talks with others, for reason. We shall get to that lesson. I care a big deal about you.
Raivan
Hidden: show
Eager, productive, alluring and not shy about jokes or even a brief dance in Beregost Town Square. I miss her.
Aesa
Hidden: show
A she-bear. A pillar. Strength. She carries her scars as I do. Lamenting not having spoken to her sooner than I did. There is much I can learn from her. My respect for her already runs deep. I crave to learn more.
--I have not seen you since long. I hope you are well...
Commander Di'Corvi
Hidden: show
Former White Rabbit, broken as I am, but different. Portcullis down, walled in. Bitterness owns her heart, even more than it has laid claim to mine. She will always have her place within my heart but she needs to walk her path in the now. Pray her lashing out will cease, for she risks one day standing nearly alone. I shan't forsake her.
--You have fallen into Darkness, former Sister. I am a changed man, you are a changed woman. Wake up...
Deladra
Hidden: show
Exotic, alluring, carefree, warm, a good heart. One of the few who offered to aid in matters plagueing the Coastal Lands. A friend in future? time shall tell
Fenix
Hidden: show
Scamp, Scoundrel, Satyr. Cheeky sod, but in the end, means well. Looks over shoulder. While not closest of friends, an ally in his own well-meant ways. Capricious stirrings linger, falter not, Scamp. The coast hath many a bounty suited for thee
Kiran
Hidden: show
Cunning merchant, organiser, -Friend-. T'is said that in times of need, one begets to know their friends. His enemies are among quite the numbers for he plays a vital role against forces I oppose. None shall came to harm him, for they shall answer dearly.
--You come through at moments I do not expect and then your name falls again when it comes to spitting rumor about me. It will never be fully smooth sailing, I surmise. Stay on the right side, please, I pray for you.
Blackthorne
Hidden: show
You know my thoughts, you know my intent. We are in this together. Keep walking the path you claimed to walk, t'is needed...
Jay
Hidden: show
You struggle. Spit bile. Invest in the wrong crowd...nobody can fight this battle you are in, except you, young soldier. You have a choice to make. Make the right one, please.
Vicala
Hidden: show
So much strength, so much familiar ways. She is respected and liked. I would work alongside her -anytime-
Last edited by Mausman on Sun Jun 23, 2019 3:59 pm, edited 16 times in total.
Wulfrik
Alaan Skriesong, Anarchist, Assassin, Wild Person- Retired with his She-wolf Elfling in a homely cave -Retired

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Mausman
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Re: Wulfrik's return...

Unread post by Mausman » Wed Feb 06, 2019 11:46 am

Recap of Wulfrik's return (( Warning, violence and death. Please do skip if you prefer not to read that! Wulfrik is not a happy person nor is his story))

After more than a year Underdark enslavement, being captured by a overwhelming Duergar force, Wulfrik had escaped with four fellow slaves. Among one of them, was a young girl, seventeen winters, she had told him, named Larissa.

Larissa had at first ridiculed Wulfrik for his grumping like nature. Wulfrik, in return, at first loathed the girl, for she evidently was a Tiefling to boot.
However, her uplifting presence and seemingly unending positivity, had bolstered Wulfrik's resolve and in due time, he had grown to like the "pest" as he called her.
Together they had prepared their escape. They knew it was going to be a dangerous endeavor, but life as a slave was not going to be the future for them either...

After they had overpowered the guards that oversaw various chests, they recovered what possessions they could and made their way onwards.
Months, they spent living on what they could find in terms of fluids and edibles, alas, one of them, a young human male, had not taken the precaution one should while being in unknown terrains with unknown funghi, thus, the group reduced to three.
The other one left, a stout Dwarven warrior, ended up sacrificing himself to buy the duo some time, who were making their way towards an exit. The harsh sting of daylight hurt their eyes as they were being chased by a small group of Drow, clearly in the market to claim three new slaves, or, possibly downright kill these surfacers. The Dwarf they did kill before giving further chase and, while being decently trained, Wulfrik happened to have a little more training under his belt than them and disposed all but one of them. Wulfrik however, was exhausted from being malnourished and did not had any fight left in him. The remaining Drow made ready to strike a killing blow to the former Witch Hunter...but a flash filled the tunnel. As the blade came down to strike, it was not the sound of Wulfrik's skin being slashed and blood splattering.

Larissa slumped towards the ground as Wulfrik's thoughts simply left him. A divine fury took hold of him as he roared out in both anguish and rage. He dove onto the Drow, overpowering him onto the ground and grabbed a small rock which was used to hammer into the Drow's face until it no longer was able to be recognised.

Wulfrik crawled off from the Drow corpse and collected Larissa in his arms, stumbling towards the light outside. Larissa was gasping in his arms, softly, as she was bleeding out. Wulfrik fell onto his knees as he held her, ripping his own shirt to bits in a feeble attempt to stop her wound from bleeding...

"No no no no no....stay with me, Larissa! STAY WITH ME!"

Larissa gave him a look that betrayed that she was scared as she murmured: "I...don't wanna die alone, Wulf...please..."

"I'm right with you...but stop saying that...hey! HEY! Larissa? LARISSA?!"

The young girl became heavy in his arms, her life having left her swiftly after sustained injury without meanings to mend her...or restore.

Wulfrik broke down into sobs and wailing grunts as he held the young Tiefling's body. She had done -nothing- to deserve any of this, he had done -nothing- to deserve her taking that blow...this was not how life was meant to go...





As rain lashed down onto the ground, Wulfrik dug and dug with nothing but his hands, a shallow grave, where he burried Larissa. He had carried her body away from that tunnel, until they reached a clearing. And after he burried her proper, it was then the man passed out while crying...

Months later...a man in a long, black coat with wide brimmed hat, strode outside of the Friendly Arm Inn. A man with a promise...



"Ain't found a way to kill me yet
Eyes burn with stinging sweat
Seems every path leads me to nowhere"


Wulfrik
Alaan Skriesong, Anarchist, Assassin, Wild Person- Retired with his She-wolf Elfling in a homely cave -Retired

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Mausman
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Re: Wulfrik's return...

Unread post by Mausman » Mon Feb 11, 2019 6:57 am

Wulfrik regarded the hulking creatures. These were Devils in the Flesh...

The Poet Lancer made ready his stance, Wulfrik drew his blade with determination and both awe of the sheer statures of these foul creatures. Never before had he fought foes like these. To deny the sensation of fear, was to be a liar. Regardless, fear was not allowed to grip his heart. They had to be destroyed as ought to be done...

Without any form of battlecry, the duo charged in, both concentrated and working in a trained tandem. Devil after Devil found themselves smitten by Righteous, brutal fury. There was no honor in the way the two fought, only determination to mangle the forms of Devils whom had wantonly slayed honest drivers of supply wagon.

Much to their surprise. an Archeress without introduction, came to aid, tipping the battle even more into their favor.
Wulfriks' mind, dark and cruel onto his own person, granted him a vision of children playing with gifted ball, with looming Devils on background. The reality of devil claw rending open skin of his left flank brought him back with gritted teeth and a brutal cleaving of it's abdomen. Over his dead body they would go before they -ever- would hurt them...







So ask me how I’m coping
And I’ll smile and tell you “I’m just fine”
While down inside I’m drowning in the cursed rain
Because when everything is empty
And your heart is set to cave
Sometimes all you wish for is a place
Is a place to place the blame
Last edited by Mausman on Mon Feb 11, 2019 7:46 am, edited 1 time in total.
Wulfrik
Alaan Skriesong, Anarchist, Assassin, Wild Person- Retired with his She-wolf Elfling in a homely cave -Retired

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Mausman
Posts: 539
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Location: All over the place

Re: Wulfrik's return...

Unread post by Mausman » Mon Feb 11, 2019 7:09 am

*Small update in bio, weaponry expanded, broken off canines of Devils on bandolier as curio's of recent victory*
Wulfrik
Alaan Skriesong, Anarchist, Assassin, Wild Person- Retired with his She-wolf Elfling in a homely cave -Retired

User avatar
Mausman
Posts: 539
Joined: Sat May 16, 2009 1:34 pm
Location: All over the place

Re: Wulfrik's return...

Unread post by Mausman » Sat Feb 16, 2019 6:27 am

Darkness...a torch in hand but nothing to see but utter darkness.

Wulfrik could hear his own breathing, it was strained. He felt exhausted, drained. Odd tongued whispers clamored around him and suddenly, Larissa? Yes! it was her voice, pleading for help!

Wulfrik ran towards wherefrom he heard her voice. An 'lo, there she stood. Dressed in silks, bloodstained silks. Her face portrayed a saddened expression, pale, but a shadow of her former self.

"Don't forget your promise to me, Wulf...please..." she pleaded. Tears of blood pooled within her eyes and trickled down along her cheeks. The Hunter attempted a reply, but no voice came from his throat.

Larissa then began a dance, the bloodied silk flowing around her like a macabre veil and she vanished into the Darkness whilst behind him, a looming, towering figure emerged. Red, glowing gaze and sharp rows of teeth bared in darkness. An alarming sense crept over Wulfrik, as in front of him, shape formed in the darkness in front of him, the shape of symbol. A circle with image of tower within, along with letter C.


A familiar voice then clamored "Behind you, Old Wolf"


Within halls of Hunters, Wulfrik sat up in his bed with a roar, dagger from under pillow made a trained slash into thin air. Beads of sweat trickled down from his scar-riddled chest and back. His hair was damp and bedding was drenched. Breathing was quickened and with a steady exhale, the Hunter attempted to steady his breathing. He peered at the recently shaped mask that hung next to his longcoat and returned dagger into sheath.

The Hunter forced himself out of bed and began the process of swapping the bedding. Realising sleep would not claim him again this night, the man, still undressed, made arcane circle on ground of his chambers. Candles were lit and sitting position on knees was made. After spending an hour meditating in silence, the man began creation of stock of his known oils, to both anoint weapon and skin...


Wulfrik
Alaan Skriesong, Anarchist, Assassin, Wild Person- Retired with his She-wolf Elfling in a homely cave -Retired

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Mausman
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Re: Wulfrik's return...

Unread post by Mausman » Wed Mar 13, 2019 10:06 am

* Disclaimer! Violence, Slavery and Duergar. Some Gore! (( Within reason ;) ))


Choice betwixt Poetic Justice or Violent Vengeance...



"Well you may throw your rock and hide your hand
Workin' in the dark against your fellow man
But as sure as Hoar made black and white
What's done in the dark will be brought to the light"




Longcoat moved by chilled caress of wild winter's wind. The Hunter had been following quarry that had been granted in vision after vigorous, fervent prayer in hours of ritualistic methods at Altar of The Doombringer. A duo of diminutive, stocky individuals, hooded and cloaked and armed with typical Dwarven weaponry of Underdark and whips alike.
In harsh, hard speech they conversed, barking order at chain of three human individuals, male and female alike, bound by shackles. Walking speed was not met as required by the duo, resulting in bite of lash upon backs of the shackled.

The Hunter narrowed gaze, from after boulder he hid behind. Violent nature began to boil, broil, images of flashbacks burned bright within Hunter's tormented mind, resulting in gritted teeth akin a silent snarl, muscles of face scrunged up his nose, pulse of heart rose and vanish, did any thought of irony or poetry and appear, did the desire arise for sheer violence and blood.




"I'm short & I'm tall, I'm black & I'm white
Sometimes I be wrong, sometimes I be right
I'm iron & steel, I'm bad to the bone
You come looking for trouble, honey don't you come alone"


The Hunter, bearing moniker of Wolfhound, aimed and fired firey bolt of crossbow on left boot of front, now confirmed Duergar. With boot catching fire and foot injured, Duergar barked a roar in pain and and sudden anger, temper, causing to be slaves to throw themselves onto ground and secondary Duergar do draw steeled Axe and round shield.

Crossbow was buckled back onto belt and replaced by wielding of blade, wreathing itself in flame upon release from sheathe, only to be doused briefly by application of substance from vial, invoking not only back it's own flame, but crackle and vision of lightning as well.

The Wolfhound barked in defiance at secondary Duergar and charged at him, only to be met with an unperturbed and thundering hard hit of round shield underneath jaw, sending the Hunter careening back with a loud grunt. Blood was spat out due to injury of flesh of mouth with own teeth.

Secondary Duergar erupted in a roaring laughter and gave chase to Wolfhound proper, axe in motion to hew into flesh of Hunter, whom barely in time placed sword correctly to block bite of axe and roar in hatred, invoked by bash of shield.


(For the reader, a song to play during the reading about fighting ;) )
"Tell me how does it feel,
when your heart grows cold "


Any presence of calmth left body of Wolfhound as agressive instincts took over and violence took precedence over tactics. Pommel of blade was bashed upon left eye of secondary Duergar, backed by righteous fury and harsh blunt force. Trauma induced thusly caused loss of eye in crushed state and in turn, sent secondary Duergar back careening, whilst primary Duergar had managed to douse boot ablaze and used time to lay aim onto Hunter proper. Bite of reïnforced steel bolt hammered into and even through right shoulder, which caused the Wolfhound enough pause to lay hand upon own injury and invoke blessing of Three Thunders to knit flesh back together, albeit in weakened state, to prevent further loss of blood.

The Hunter re-drew loaded crossbow with hand of weakened arm as blade of fire and lightning slashed open back of secondary, careening Duergar, whom fell with loud roar of pain and clattering of dropped axe and shield onto belly first and then rolled onto back.
Looking up at the seething Hunter -and- looming crossbow bolt betwixt eyes, which then caused a cross-eyed look for a singular beat of heart, before string of crossbow sung it's high pitched squeel and having bolt nestle itself within secondary Duergar skull with loud crack, squish and sizzle of flame.

Primary Duergar, in possession of repeating crossbow, roared with agression as bolt after bolt was sent towards Hunter, singing their high pitched song of hammering death. The Hunter, well trained, deflected the first and deadliest of their salvo, clamoring of steel upon steel rung in air whilst remaining bolts landed within ground in distance save one, for Hunter spun dramatically during his sprint and final bolt, in ironic bitterness, bit into right cheek of buttocks which caused Hunter to roar in surprised pain.
With cartridge emptied, Primary Duergar resorted to an attempt at reloading. Wolfhound Hunter dropped own crossbow and sheathed blade, uttering repeating, non-sensical and loud roar-grunts as he closed distance in rapid, dashing pace, to land firm grip of left hand upon throat of helpless Duergar. Right hand reached for bandolier and produced altered, custom-made orb of blasting powder, which was unceremoniously stuffed, fuse kept outward, into throat of struggling and now, gasping and gurgling Duergar. Gloved left hand remained firm grip upon throat, lack of breath weakened Duergar struggle.

Bolt of fire was retrieved from quiver and it's ignition used to spark fast burning fuse. Duergar was shoved forcefully to create distance and unbalance, with Wolfhound running away and covered closest to-be slave with his own body.

Thundering explosion send blood and body-parts flying, along with shrapnel wich did not find home in those nearby, wondrous enough.
Once silence covered the area again, shackles were shattered and coin for nearest Inn was offered to those freed. The Wolfhound then wandered off, cussing loudly with each stride, bolt of crossbow stuck within buttock and trail of blood left behind...
Wulfrik
Alaan Skriesong, Anarchist, Assassin, Wild Person- Retired with his She-wolf Elfling in a homely cave -Retired

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Mausman
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Re: Wulfrik's return...

Unread post by Mausman » Sun Mar 31, 2019 8:12 am

It was a cold day, final throes of winter before spring would announce itself. Wild Winter's Wind caressed long tail of hair that was freed with Hunter holding Hat in hand. Wulfrik stood, silently, staring at the grave he had dug for Larissa. Seventeen Roses had been laid onto her grave. A decorated lantern placed, a light, to show the way, wherever it was she wanted to travel for rest. The site itself, warded by hired Cleric, to ensure it remained untouched. Upon being alone, the Hunter uttered words upon Grave.

"Damnation, Larissa. The hole, it never truly seems to leave. I hope you have peace, at least. I certainly as the Nine of Baator do not.
I can not rest until I have snuffed them all out, each and every single one of our slavers. Those who enslave. My promise, to you.
Had you a voice, I know what you would shout at me, but I can not -move on-. I know not how. A daughter you became to me, who would have imagined -me- being capable of caring as such? and it was taken just as swiftly. The wound still bleeds."

"You are missed dearly, my daughter...you made me a far better person than I realised living inside of this husk"



"You never know just what you’ve got
Until it’s slipping through your fingers
You never know just what you’ve got
Until it’s gone with the wind
And you never miss your shadow
Until there’s no one left beside you
You never miss your shadow until you’re alone "






"You never know the words you should’ve said
Until they’re all you’re left with
Until the dirt is falling and the guilt, it burns your bones
And we ask the biggest question
Why the hell did this all happen?
Who on earth deserves this
And what the hell do we do now?
So we live, like we have lost
And we love, like we are broken
And as the colour leaves the sky we’re left in reverence
Of the frailty of it all"
Wulfrik
Alaan Skriesong, Anarchist, Assassin, Wild Person- Retired with his She-wolf Elfling in a homely cave -Retired

User avatar
Mausman
Posts: 539
Joined: Sat May 16, 2009 1:34 pm
Location: All over the place

Re: Wulfrik's return...

Unread post by Mausman » Thu Apr 04, 2019 2:38 pm

Warning! following post contains: Violence, coercion, manipulation, unfairness and tragedy. If you prefer not to read these things, kindly clicky away. If not, hope you enjoy the read! :)


((Shoutout to DM Chant! The wonderful DM Chant threw this lovely RP on Wulfrik's path. As a player who doesn't shun the darker side of RP and hardships, I stand truly amazed and more than pleasantly surprised I got to be part of this. Thank you, once again! ))

The Broken Wolfhound made unyielding by fate of a Wispling



Sending was heard and the Wolfhound headed to location of request post-haste. As Hunter arrived, he called out for a Wispling. No answer was given. Another call, met by no answer, save ambush of chained Devils in twin form left and right.

The Wolfhound forced to wander halls of home, towards room most foul where Wispling was bound to chair and looming spitting image, facsimile of Wolfhound stood, only to turn around slowly with wicked smirk.

Wolfhound made snarling visage and barked at facsimile. "I WILL RIP YOU IN TWAIN!" as blade, wreathed in flame was drawn.

Facsimile grinned and made calm retort as it basked in rage and torment already looming within Wolfhound. "Indeed. But first I shall seed in your soul, that you will never be to her, what -I- will be to her. Mentor. Father. Lover. -Keeper-.

Wolfhound, with spittle flying from lips in anger, shouted. "SERPENT! YOU ARE NONE OF THESE THINGS!" as breathing became agressive, quickened to be followed by another pleading bark.

"WISP? HEY! WISP? STAY WITH ME HERE!"

Facsimile, determining the threat of Wolfhound was about to be followed up upon, commanded coil of rope with gesture of hand. It snaked around Wolfhound's neck in quickness and caused burning sensation. The Wolfhound grunted but stood unrelenting, as free hand took scroll.

Facsimile smirked as he spoke. "Wisp? tell your mentor that I will be all of these things to you"

Wispling's teeth chattered as she fought in mind, eyes wild, as words were beckoned from her. "You will never be to me what -he- is to me. A Mentor, a Father, a Lover, a -keeper-"

"Good girl" the Facsimile spoke with Malice exuding from every fiber of stolen form.

Wolfhound's muscles of jaw rippled as words cut deeper than blades would, yet ever relentless, stood, reading scroll from lips in tongue of Elves, thusly placing ward against dark and evil upon her, as tears began to well up in eyes of Hunter. Inner strength mustered another bark.

"WISP? HEY! STAY. BLOODY. WITH ME!" "REMEMBER! I WOULD NEVER IMPOSE BEING THESE THINGS TO YOU, UNLIKE THIS WRETCH THAT SEEKS TO OWN YOU!"

Facsimile eyes bulged in rage, as ward was placed upon Wispling. Rope around neck of Wolfhound tightened, causing gritting of teeth and a grunt in strain, and Facsimile gestured chained devil to cover Wolfhound's mouth. Trained soldier, ever bound to vengeance, spun blade and aimed to thrust backwards into lower abdomen of devil, now open for attack with action of covering mouth of Hunter, whom uttered in prayer:
"THREE THUNDERS, AHEAR ME! YOUR SACRED PLACE STANDS DONE A WRONG BY MERE PRESENCE OF THIS FILTH, IMPOSING DARK AND WRONG UPON SERVANTS OF THEE. LEND ME THY RIGHTEOUS FURY THAT I MIGHT DELIVER WHAT IS OWED, FOR THEE, MY LORD, FOR THEE!"

Blade, wreathed in flame, began to glow with sheer Divine power, before it was brought in backwards thrust, turned a cruel quarter for good measure, and made to slash outward to right. Intestines spilled out of devil and onto floor as it shrieked. Facsimile sneered at words uttered by Wolfhound.

Wispling shuddered and trembled, confusement in gaze. Wild eyes drifted around, as Facsimile held up dagger which had eerie glint, in retort to Wolfhound showing indeed promise of violence and destruction.

Rope snaked down to pinion Wolfhound's arm and secondary Devil made ready to propel Wolfhound into bars of iron, for Wolfhound leaped and was mid-air, ready to rip out throat of Facsimile with bare hand if need be.

Woflhound was sent careening into iron bars with loudest of grunts in pain, claws of devil raking face and torso in mad cackles as chains rattled.

Wisp screamed in an nigh unnatural pitch once confronted with Wolfhound thrown into bars, made silent by Facsimile with a smack of disapproval in face and "No!"

Wispling was presented with Facsimile turning and having dagger poised to harm her true, but keen gaze of Wisp fell onto kneecap of foul one. Wolfhound managed to notice during struggle and barked.

"BREAK IT'S SODDING KNEECAP WISP! NGGH! ... DO IT!"

Wisp gritted teeth and made stomping kick onto cap of knee, a loud cracking sound followed with growl of Facsimile.

"Raaagh! NO! YOU MUSTN'T!" shrieked Facsimile, only to reinforce mental hold on the Wispling and demanding her say she would never again.

"No, never again, I am sorry" Wispling uttered.

Wolfhound groaned as will of Wisp was violated oncemore, cutting the man's soul into a thousand shreds as he struggled to fend off both rope and chained devil.

Facsimile landed final smack on Wispling, rendering her unconscious, with deep toned shout from Wolfhound in retort.

Powerless, pinned down, Wolfhound was thusly forced to regard how Facsimile carved foul mark upon breast of woman, where heart resided. Wolfhound screamed, tears flowing in earnest and spittle flung out with each ragged breath. Rage consuming him but amounted to nothing, as Facsimile licked trickle of blood from own tip of dagger and smirked, as it vanished into nothingness, as did chained devil. Rope fell limp on floor and Hunter fell forward on hands and knees. Breathing ragged and producing naught but grunts and wails of agony as blade was sheated rapidly. Nearly falling again as Wolfhound rushed to Wispling, carved and unconscious in chair.

"NO! NO NO NO NO NOOOO!" He spoke, in anguish, for he noticed blade of Greensteel had made carving and evidently was seeping with foul darkness.

"HOAR! AHEAR ME, AS YOUR SERVANT AND LOYAL VESSEL OF IRONY AND JUSTICE, I DEMAND THIS CARVING BE TRANSFERRED ONTO ME! PLEASE! PLEAAASE! PLEASE, PLEASE , PLEAAASE!" Hunter screamed in prayer as glove was taken from hand, hand placed upon fresh carved injury, sought to mend and absorb...

Wound...healed, flesh knitted back whole, but mark, remained in blackest of black upon fairest of skin, causing Wolfhound to falter whilst Wispling came to.

Confused, for last she saw was Facsimile of Wolfhound looming, kicked again, though this time, found no resistance. Wolfhound let her kick and without any strength left, fell backwards, akin a yielding young boy whom forgot how to remain standing.

Eyes of Wolfhound flitted from left to right, as darkness consumed his mind and heart. He had failed and Hoar had denied him. The man sat, broken, thoughts racing and claiming him, unable to even notice Wispling crawling to him and hugging him, understanding she just had kicked mentor in true form. And his presentation worried her own battered form, for she never saw the man yield before.


"It marked you..." Wolfhound spoke, pointing at mark.

Wispling glanced at hands first, then at own chest and gasped. "What is it, Wulfy? what is this?"


Wolfhound spoke in near apathy. "A mark by foul Greensteel. Marking you forever by his hand..."

"I know now why Jay relented..." He spoke in defeat, causing Wispling to flinch backwards.

"This..is no doppleganger, t'is...a devil in the flesh and it broke Jay"

Wispling, akin hunted deer, wounded by words, sought to flee from room, causing Wolfhound to gather what final strength there was left in him, launching himself against the door proper, blockading frantic Wispling who pounded on chest of hunter, demanding him to move, in vain.

"You will hear me out." The Wolfhound spoke, breath ragged, tears flowing richly as spittle trickled from lips of exhausted, shadow of the man he was but hours ago.

"This is what it wants you to do, to run, for you fear to bring others hurt. It -wants- you to have that fear, to single...you out and claim you proper.

Wispling continued to beat and pound onto the Hunter's chest, whom slowly parted arms and moved into her, only to muster what he had left to offer an embrace, ready to either be sent back careening by her. Push, however, did not come to pass, for she melted into the man's embrace and broke in tears, pleading and demanding him make promise to never abandon her or leave. Wolfhound struggled, for shattered soul and will, demanded from him to cast out all sentiment and feelings. The hurt, it had to cease quick, for he had to remain able to fight, kill, bring punishment to wicked.

Wispling, even after her ordeal, as if by sixth sense, knew what the man was fighting inside and held onto him for dear life, demanding promise as she beat onto his chest again. With ragged grunts, as the man struggled against his own hurt and desire to bring walls up again, promise was made, with plea to her to not relent in believing in him...


Embrace lingered and as unknown amount of time passed, embrace turned into nuzzles, nuzzles into a gentle kiss, gentle kiss into a deeper, meaningful meld of lips.

A stronger bond, then was forged, as the duo spoke of intentions in earnest...




((- The song capturing: The Rage and anger of Wulfrik, the defeat and breaking, refusing to back down in aftermath, promise made and foremost, this event, leading to a ripple within circle of Fellow Hunters. One might say, a fitting theme for the Hunters of Vengeance indeed...))

"And through it all, we wore the pain
We held our own
Through the darkest of our nights
It’s written in my blood
It’s carved into my soul
Through the darkest of our nights
Because if you couldn’t stop us then
What hope do you have now?
When you dragged us though the fire
Did you really think that we would burn?
We’re no saviors
We’re no saints
We’re no martyrs
And we don’t need saving"




"I’ve come too far to turn back
I’ve seen too much to play dead
If this is all you got then take a deep breath in
As I drown you out"
- Wulfrik, refusing to relent against this fiend...
Wulfrik
Alaan Skriesong, Anarchist, Assassin, Wild Person- Retired with his She-wolf Elfling in a homely cave -Retired

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Mausman
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Re: Wulfrik's return...

Unread post by Mausman » Sat Apr 13, 2019 10:45 am

(( Updated Bio and Relations))
Wulfrik
Alaan Skriesong, Anarchist, Assassin, Wild Person- Retired with his She-wolf Elfling in a homely cave -Retired

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Mausman
Posts: 539
Joined: Sat May 16, 2009 1:34 pm
Location: All over the place

Re: Wulfrik's return...

Unread post by Mausman » Wed Apr 17, 2019 8:15 am

Warning! following post contains violence, sadness

Credits to DM Chant for yet another lovely, dark and good story-event!


A Wolfhound ablaze with fury




Can you see what’s following you?
It has a mind of its own
Steps so quiet you can’t hear it
A parasite without a home

It’s got a smile, but you don’t trust it
Concrete reasons unknown
Put it behind you in the space of your day
A parasite without a home

Leave her to sing her withered songs
In tunnels painted like the dawn
Bring me, the echo till it’s gone



A Wolfhound, having set various wheels in motion, made his way towards keep of Candles, to seek the one who might have answers for him he seeks, along with tactic and cunning. Upon path, emerged a Wispling in form battered and injured, causing pause in stride of Hunter, whom's heart began to race, pace, burn...

"Wulfy..." Wispling whispered, her form shivering and shaking with cold, clad in naught but simple clothing, stained in red and rose of blood

Wulfhound's mind, after series of broken nights of fervent prayer and self-flaggelation for goals only known to him and closest brother, a crippled thing of distrust towards the world, made him grit teeth and close distance. The image of Wispling regarded with scepticism, mind bad him to utter words

"The name of the Girl I buried, Wisp...speak it"

Wispling opened mouth to speak, but rivulet of blood was all that was produced, a ghastly sight, causing Wolfhound's mind to begin it's path of deduction, but was thwarted in this when figure of Wispling began to shiver and shake, looking confused, could it really be her? Hunter closed distance and Wispling toppled over into the man, clutching onto blackes of coats.

"W...wisp? but...how?" Hunter spake, hunter asked, hunter doubted...



"I need you, Wulfy...help me, I feel so...I don't know what. Please, keep me safe" Came her meek retort

Hunter's face took a darker expression, inner battle raging betwixt scepticism and wanting to believe she stood there. Scepticisim winning the battle, as he barked

"Her name, Wispling. Speak the name of the Child I buried with my own hands..."

This, he uttered, whilst holding Wisp with one hand as she clung to him, the other hand, seeking and finding scroll he calmly read in tongue of Elves. A faint glow began to surround him, as a ward of Darkness took hold on his person. Wispling, seeking to touch the man and kiss, drew closer, but shivered and quivered the closer she came, quickly placing her lips onto his in an invasive manner which made no sense to the man. He promptly withdrew from kiss and murmured

"You fear me, Devil. Rightfully so, for I am coming for you..."


Tears welled in eyes of woman, confusion and meek presentation of the self offered along with another attempt to kiss him, violent shakes could be seen the closer she drew to warded Wolfhound

"W...Wulfy?" The woman bit her bottom lip and sobbed

"HER NAME, WISP! SPEAK, THE NAME, OF THE CHILD, I BURIED WITH MY OWN HANDS"

Anger began to take precedence, voice barked and boomed in deep baritone, causing frail, female figure to tremble and sob harder

"I...I forgot! please! don't be angry Wulfy!"

Hunter snarled and pointed, tone of accusation reïnforcing the gesture as he spat his words at her

"True Wisp would remember, FIEND! Wisp KNOWS my promise! SHE. KNOWS!"

Figure of Wispling sobbed and gasped, looking at the man in Horror, attempting yet again to close distance and clasp his hands with hers

"BOUNDARY!" Hunter barked, with hands upward in deflection

"Promise, written in parchment!, I, Wulfrik, will -never- abandon my mentee, my Wispling!"
"Promise, written in parchment, I, Wulfrik, will grind Devil that seeks to bind her, to dust!"


"Ahear, I will -not- abandon true Wispling, not ever."
"But -you- , Darkness, I owe something very different..." Hunter's tone became menacing, akin a predator that now was hunting prey


Form of Wisp, quivered and spoke again

"J...just hold me again, just that..."


Hunter, with wry grin on face, retorted without pause

"No, fiend."

"You will not siphon any warmth and love from me, for only true Wisp, is entitled to my embrace."

Wispling's voice broke, as he uttered in a mock of true Wisp

"I knew it, you never loved me"

"...No...sorry, I should not have said that, you do love me..."


Form of Wispling began to speak in odd, self-countering sentences, Wolfhound promted again with question, question to speak name of young girl he had buried with his own hands, but no answer came


It was then, man's senses, felt presence of a scyring sensor. Senses tingled and with dedicated sight, noticed it was placed within pendant around neck. Pendant that was not worn by true Wispling. With a loud snarl, man made to reach and grab pendant. Form of Wisp bobbed and bared teeth in him, which easily could have been accompanied by hiss, but it remained silent.


With steel ring in air, Hunter drew blade, which, one released from it's sheathe, ignited in a wreath of flame. A soft prayer was uttered, as man gripped handle firmly. Then after, he spoke

"Do your worst, fiend. Rend me, claw me, a man does not kneel"

Wispling hissed at Hunter, gargled breaths followed as Wisp spoke back in voice, tone mockery of true Wisp

"You know nothing!"


The Hunter's countenance, now twisted into a Wolfish grin, along with amused chuckle

"You are faltering, fiend. Your fear, I can taste it." Hunter leaned forward, somewhat menacingly

"And it tastes...deliclously"

The Fiend, now exposed, hissed back words at him that caused Wolfhound to retort in naught but near primale, ape-like grunts of masculine agression

With poise of sheer arrogance, form of Wispling twisted and with hissing shriek, flew forward, diving onto Hunter in earnest intent to kill, fingernails raked right flank of Hunter, and left behind mark akin a beast's claw, despite only showing fingernails on outside. Fabric of coat frayed, revealing black, white of shirt and darkest of red began to stain both

Flame and Divine fury both engulfed his blade and he, Hunter ever, Hunter after, stomped with boot upon kneecap, in mocking gesture of former encounter with Facsimile of self, whom Wisp had done the same onto. Stomp was made in distraction, opening up the defense of would-be Wisp. Blade sung as it was brought up and then downward in a cruel slash, from shoulder, down to her sternum, sinew snapped, bone cracked...and blood, splattered.

Woman with appearance of Wisp went deadly silent, hewn almost through. Stiffened, jerking akin worm onto hook. Choking sounds emitted from her and blood bubbled, pooled from her lips. Mocking voice gurgled as she fell down onto knees


"But Wulfy...I love you..."

Mockery of Wisp revealed true form then, before it vanished from this plane. With loud grunt of anguish, Hunter then sheathed blade and fell onto own knees in pouring rain. A singular loud wail, howl, made. For the psyche had endured that what he loathed to do, Devil played her game well. No matter the fact it was not the real Wisp. He had, in fact, cut his Wisp, his mind invoked, in confusion.



And she’ll be standing strong
Her hair is lost in storm
Open your mouth
And let air rush in
To get a sense of her form

But if the audience is imminent
And if your parasites come home
Remember the old adage:
Deep roots are not reached by frost

Leave her to sing her withered songs
In tunnels painted like the dawn
Wulfrik
Alaan Skriesong, Anarchist, Assassin, Wild Person- Retired with his She-wolf Elfling in a homely cave -Retired

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Mausman
Posts: 539
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Location: All over the place

Re: Wulfrik's return...

Unread post by Mausman » Sun Jun 23, 2019 11:40 am

*Bio update!*

- Artwork
- Changes made to reflect IC developments
Wulfrik
Alaan Skriesong, Anarchist, Assassin, Wild Person- Retired with his She-wolf Elfling in a homely cave -Retired

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