The Compendium of Shadows

[Shaoilin]

Cloak & Shadow; the Brotherhood

Welcome to the Shadow Clan, brother...

Step careful weary traveler, keep your paw prints light and your scent even fainter when entering the lands of the shadow folk. For they do not like strangers in their territory, and if rumor is true (one that is most definitely true, of that I can assure you!) they like females even less. Although why is such a thing to ponder, wolves of the female persuasion are indeed so delicious... so tantalizingly beautiful and scrumptious.

Beg your pardon, I forget myself.

These mysterious wolves are swift, fierce, and are like shadows in the dark. But there are no shadows to be seen when the sun goes to sleep, is there? And so I have made my point- the wolves of the Shadow Clan are never seen. Does this then mean that they do not exist? No, of course not, otherwise I would not be here on these hills, telling you what I know.

For I was once one of them, you know... however, I was exiled for my less desirable habits and scruples. But that is not what I am to tell you today, my story is for another time.

I could tell you a great many things about the pack I once belonged to, for I know their secrets, their traditions, their stories... I know it all. But you look tired and in need of a good rest- so I shall not keep you much longer. What to tell you? That is the troublesome part, isn't it? So much to say... so very much. But perhaps I should just fall back upon the olden days and simply give you fair warning?

Yes, that sounds more than reasonable- better even since it will likely increase your chances of surviving should you persist in prancing about in their lands. So listen close, (and close your gaping maw, I know you're tired, it is most obvious- but this is for your own good!)

Now please, heed my words and get your tail out of these lands before they decide you'd make a better dead wolf, than a live one.

Stick to the light; our kind do not make a habit of traveling or hunting during this time for our eyes are too sensitive to withstand the harsh rays of the summer sun.
Do not linger; the longer you remain in one area, the easier you make it for them to hunt you. For my brothers do not limit themselves to one kind of prey. If it is made of meat, they will find it, hunt it, and devour it.

But above all, should you find yourself standing before a wolf shrouded in tattered shadows and this symbol (here, I shall scratch it out in the dirt for you to see,) emblazoned in red on their heads...

Do not look away. To do so is admitting that you are a lesser, one fit only for consumption; but should you stand tall and keep your eyes on theirs... well, you might just make it.

I hope you have listened, truly listened to my words and have taken them to heart... For now I must leave you, the shadows grow longer and I can not hide from them in the dark. Hide yourself before it becomes true night, traveler, for I fear you might not live to see the sun's first rays this morning.

But what does a mere vagabond such as I know? Perhaps you shall survive in these lands where I cannot.

 

[Shaoilin]

Gods of the Shadows...
Figures of distinction.
Here lay their trials and triumphs.

He Who Rules...

You own them, you rule them, you love them, and above all- you protect them.

Danel's Trials...

To the few outsiders who have managed to steal a glimpse of you and your pack- you've been labeled a tyrant, a cruel master who delights in abusing his slaves. But to your wolves, you are a proud leader and caring protector. You are harsh, but fair- you are cruel, yet kind. You have managed to be so many contrasting things to your Clan, and because of it, they have grown strong, powerful, and prosperous.

Despite all of these wonderful things that have kept you and yours safe, content, and at peace; there are things amiss. You are the alpha of the pack, one who cares... and because of it, little escapes your notice when it comes to members of your pack. Your shield is beginning to crack, your weapon is growing to wild, the heir is too weak, and your people are beginning to suffer from within. You see, scent, and feel all of these things- for you are the head of the Clan and they all are a part of you.

Dark times are approaching, you can smell it on the winds, spread between the whispered words carrying the secrets of the pack. The burden of it all weighs heavily upon your broad shoulders...

Danel's Victories...

The dreams. They plagued Danel. But, far worse than the dreams, was the voice..

Wake up, O mighty and grand God-king of the Brotherhood, it whispered, its tone mocking. Your pack is falling apart. It needs you. But what can you do? The faster you sew, the faster the seams fray...

"No!" Danel snarled, waking from his dream and looking around frantically. Of course there was no one around. Heaving a sigh, he slumped back down and closed his eyes.
"Curse the dreams.."

I can get you when you are awake too... said a sibilant hiss in his ear.

"Silence Voice!" he shouted then, working to calm himself, he breathed deeply. "There are no flaws in my pack. The Brotherhood is perfect; my shield is strong and true, my weapon is sharp and precise. I am their God and my will is theirs!" Danel growled at no one then looked down at the shining orb at his throat. It would calm him...

Poor, stupid beast. Are you really so dense, so feeble in mind and vision? Your "shield" is cracked. He betrays you, betrays the Brotherhood by sparing the life of a lowly female. And the "weapon". Pah! He is so insane with bloodlust, it won't be long until he forgets himself and attacks you. This all started with the Vagabond, you know. You should have killed him...

"Liar!" Denal howled but, even as he denied the accusations, he knew them to be true. He knew. But that was a mistake. They would not do such things. They followed him, worshipped him, looked to him for guidance and protection.

Fool! Your pack crumbles from within!

"Fine!" the alpha shouted, finally overwhelmed by the mental pressure The Voice exuded. "I will begin anew then, if my brethren are so flawed. The Brotherhood will be scrubbed with blood and reborn from the ashes!" Denal howled crazily, a strange light in his eyes.

Now you see reason....

-Elros Namasi

 

[Shaoilin]

Weapons and Shields
The armory is small,
but its weapons are mighty...

The Strong Right Paw...

You will do anything to protect your alpha, for he is your god, your savior... your everything.

Betzalel's Trials...

He is your beginning and he is your end. There is no question as to who owns your loyalty- for it belongs to the alpha and it always has. Just like everything else that you could possibly call your own. This unwavering mindset has been with you for as long as you can remember and you have never thought or considered otherwise.

But something always goes wrong, doesn't it?

For you have been doing something that is forbidden; you've been betraying yourself, and your god- the alpha. You've been allowing a lone female wolf to live and hunt on the very edge of your pack's territory. This stranger intrigues and mystifies you- she is the first one you've ever let remain alive and you're not quite sure as to why that is; just that you continue to allow it and even help keep her presence a secret. It is only recently that you've even realized this fact...

Betzalel's Victories...

My lord, my god, my beloved leader,...oh how I have betrayed ye so. Blinded, I was, to be such a fool, and allow her to live. No longer, master, for I shall make right my wrong, and take the punishment which you shall justly inflict upon me. I'll take it with great pleasure, my lord. For such betrayal can not be forgiven.


Betzalel moved swiftly, and with purpose -- to find the female that had enchanted him. The one that had caused him to betray his lord! She had exploited a weakness within himself, he realized. A weakness which would no longer be tolerated. Betzalel's alpha meant more to him than anything, or any one, and it made him sick to think that he had allowed this female access to their lands, and kept it a secret,...when he should have killed her on sight.
The cloak which concealed his head and face fluttered in the wind, as Betzalel ran, and ran. The Strong Right Paw had caught the intruder's scent, and his mind was made up. She would die today.

Betzalel was normally a quiet wolf. Stead fast, a pillar of strength, an advisor,...but today, he was a killer, in the name of his honor, and his lord. He was not as blood thirsty as the alpha's Left Paw. Betzalel, actually, tried to practice tolerance -- anything less would have brought shame upon his lord -- but tonight he would return to his lord with the she-wolf's blood upon him. He'd come crawling on his belly, and recite the tale, and pray he would forgive him.


It was a long run, before Betzalel finally caught sight of his quarry. His aqua eyes hardened, and he suppressed a growl. The female which had once struck him as enchanting was now a curse which the sought to free himself from.
Betzalel watched from a rocky ledge above, as the female strolled on by. As fate would have it, a wind would blow. Thin wispy clouds above passed over the moon above, and fed the shadows. The female's head shot up as she caught Betzalel's scent, and all she saw afterwards, was a shadow as he leaped out at her.


My lord, savior, my strength, and god; In thine name I slay this enchantress, the beast, which sway me away. Couldest thou find favor in me once again, despite my former betrayal? For with this blood, I cleanse myself of my sins against you.


He ripped and tore -- setting lose a beast that Betzalel suppressed -- a beast born of fear, and desperation; fear of what might come of this crime, and desperation to make it right. Desperation to stay with the pack, with his lord,...for he knew life alone would be the end of him. Just as his master's Weapon could not be satiated till he was either with their lord, on the field of battle, or alone,...Betzalel could not be content unless he was with those which he served…and above all others his beloved alpha.

Cries, and growls rang out into the night, and the moon fled behind the clouds, cutting off all of its light, till the cries of the dieing could no longer be heard. Like a curious child, the moon peeked out from behind it's cover, and shined down upon the bloody scene below. Betzalel wore the enchantress' blood up to his knees, smudged on his cloak, and all over his muzzle, but he did not throw back his head with a triumphant howl. The only one he wanted to know was his lord.

--

"My lordship," Betzalel addressed, as he approached his alpha. All the while during his return journey he had thought out just what he was going to say, and choked back his fear. He could not show weakness in the face of his master.

His master looked upon Betzalel, the sight and scent of blood upon his shield telling its own tale.
"Yes, Betzalel?"

The bloody shield kept his eyes diverted, and crawled to upon his belly to the feet of his master.
"With this blood upon my maw,.." Betzalel began slowly, "I come to you,...with news of my betrayal."

The alpha seemed taken aback by this. He knew something had been distracting Betzalel, but betrayal had never crossed his mind.
"Betrayal?" he echoed.

"Yes, my lord." Betzalel felt as if part of him were breaking. As if he had lost something, and there was no getting it back. He daren't look up into the eyes of his beloved master, or even at his paws.

"Look at me," demanded the strong voice if his lord.

"I have no right to look upon you, my lord," but Betzalel did. He raised his head up to meet his lord, for he could never resist the word of god.

"Then why do you do so now?"

"Because it you who told me to."

"Loyal as ever. What is it you say you have done to betray me?"

Betzalel looked longingly at his lord, as he told his story, and once the story was told --
"I do not ask for forgiveness," he shook his head, "but if death is to be my sentence than it be by your claws, for I'd rather be fallen by you, than to live, and never be by your side,...my lord." Betzalel bowed his head. His own heart pounded loudly in his chest.

"You have served me well for many years, Betzalel. I find it hard to believe that you truly meant to betray me. We all have our faults. You recognized yours, and overcame it, before any harm befell the clan." the alpha said, though despite his words, Betzalel didn't let it get his hopes up. Death could be at hand any minute, but so long as it came from his master, Betzalel was fine with that.
"You know too much to just exile you. I've made that mistake once-" the alpha said, thinking of the Old One, spreading the secrets of the clan. It made him growl. "I won't do it again."

"Yes, my lord." Betzalel dipped his head, again, in a bow, before looking upon his master with all the strength of spirit and will he had.

"I could not kill someone who has been as blindly faithful to me as you have, Betzalel. You righted your wrong, overcome your weakness. In my eyes, you have repented. You've accepted death as your fate, but it is a fate I do not find just, for such a minor infraction. You are not like the old traitor. You’ve done no damage, my shield. You may live."

At those last three words, Betzalel's ears perked up, and it took all his well-trained composure not to wag his tail.
"Thank you, my lordship. I am not worthy of such mercy."

The alpha gave his shield a light chuckle. "You do not credit yourself enough, friend."

Friend. Those days left when you became my god, but your words,...they make me smile.

-Teh Angel Yuna

The Strong Left Paw...

You are your alpha's claws, his fangs, his weapon... the blood and flesh of his enemies is the only thing that can satisfy your insatiable hunger.

Occidio's Trials...

A deep and ravenous gaping wound of an all-consuming hunger... You need to be your alpha's tool, his weapon, his fangs, and claws. You need it because you crave it. You love the blood, the flesh, the violence; you need it like a lowly fish needs water. Without it, you would die.

You're careful to keep up appearances; washing your fur clean of the blood despite your cloak being forever stained a dark crimson, you hunt with the rest of the pack from time to time, sharing in the kill and consumption of some pathetic beast too slow to escape its fate, and you even manage to socialize with the rest of the pack on occasion.

But they notice. They see how your body develops a fine tremble if you remain peaceful while spending time with the lower ranks. Their delicate noses detect how your scent grows heavy with a sickness when you haven't fought and killed a creature of veritable risk.

Only in the presence of your alpha, are you truly calm, truly satiated. But he is a leader, not a pup-sitter...

Occidio's Victories...

What have I done?

You ask as though what I've done was wrong, some kind of vile act. Well I can assure you that what I've done was in the best interest of the clan. Our God would surely praise me for it, and going against the wills of our God is the highest crime. It's an act of treachery even, and I'm sure you know what we do with treacherous wolves around here.

Can't you see? What they were doing was putting our way of life in danger! Allowing that rival pack to live on the outskirts of our land was unacceptable, and as the Weapon of this clan it is my duty to carry out our God's wishes and protect us all.

Eliminate! Eliminate them all and serve the clan! It is only when the lifeblood of another has drenched my snout that I am truly happy. This is my purpose, my duty, and my life. The violent tremors are nothing but a show of anxiousness to serve our God, not some kind of madness the others sneer down at me for. Such a show of devotion to one's purpose should be praised! Not passed off as a defect of the mind and body.

This devotion, this lust for blood drove me from our lands, into the darkest shadows the Daywalkers have come to fear. These glorious shadows conceal our kind, allowing us to walk in their lands while they themselves hide away from the night. They are not equipped to make use of the shadows, and for that they are inferior! Fit for nothing more than a good hunt and an even better meal. But tonight's meal would be special. That pack had existed in peace for too long, and it was time to put a stop to that.

Their numbers were small, they were just getting started afterall. A pair of alphas and a few omegas were all they had to their pack name. A shame they chose this area of land to settle down in, it simply wasn't in their destiny to become a great force. With no guards it was easy to slip into their land and begin my work. The omegas put up no real fight. How could they, when the shadows themselves were against them? A slash here, a bite there, and they were mere shells of the life they once contained. Quickly dipping a paw in their spilled blood, I scrawled the mark of our clan across their corpses. Whoever should happen across this gruesome scene would know who was responsible, and who to fear.

My work outside done, it was time to head into the pack's den. A grin across my maw, I moved from the shadows and started to head inside. However, I quickly stopped as an odd scent hit my nose. Something...was not right. There was blood of another in the air, and far more scents than that den should have contained. Still! It was no matter, the pack must be slain, for the good of the clan!

It was then that he appeared, the alpha of this pitiful excuse for a group of wolves. A fresh set of wounds marred his back, and he seemed unable to walk steadily.
"You! You've come back for more?! Hasn't your kind done enough already? The loss of one pup was already a crime, I refuse to let you do any more!"
Despite his injuries the male wolf snarled and held his ground, determined to protect that which was inside. The loss of a pup? Our kind? Could it really be...?

No matter, my duty was here. To destroy this pack was to serve our God, and I would see it through. The fight was long, violent, and bloody. By the end I was panting from exhaustion, blood dripping from various wounds to stain the ground below. My opponent however lay upon the ground, several chunks missing from his gasping form. A laugh erupted from my throat after I swallowed one such piece, the lifeblood giving renewed energy as it slid down my gullet.
"A good fight, but you really stood no chance. Perhaps the beyond will be more kind to your soul..."
He struggled, but his broken body had lost the will to fight. Howls filled the air until they too were cut off. Soon only a picked over carcass of the alpha remained, and I made my way inside.

"Leave this place...our previous loss was enough, but this is almost unbearable. Please, leave us be!"
The female alpha greeted me inside the den, but her words were weak and her body unsteady. Below her sat the writhing forms of her newly born pups. Tsk tsk..barely born into the world and already their lives were destined to be ended. At least this way they'd barely know what life was. The mother took wobbly steps towards me, a low snarl emitting from her throat. It really was no hard task to do away with her. The labor had been cruel to her, and death by my claw was almost a blessing. She however was not fit for consumption, and like the omegas outside I marked her corpse with the symbol of our clan.

As for the pups....well they's surely die without the care of another to help them in this world right? But this simply wasn't enough for me. My duty was to eliminate this pack, every member of this pack. No matter how small or certain their end may be. And honestly? I enjoyed every minute of it! The pitiful whimpers as they were torn to shreds and consumed. Fragile flesh ripped by hardened fangs of war. Their life was short and brutal, but it was for the good of the clan! To serve my clan, and my God, these small flames of life needed to be extinguished.

The gruesome deed done, I left the blood drenched den to enter another hunt. The mumblings of the Alphas were right. One pup was missing, and our clan was to be held responsible. Shadows can conceal many things my brothers, but any creature can be scented out, even our kind. The scent was followed back to our lands, to our own Omega's den where the next generations of our clan are raised. That lowly nanny was out, most likely gathering food for the newest pups. With nothing but pups in the den stealing one away was a minor task. A bit of blood was all that was left as I whisked the newborn pup away. Once away from the Omega's den the wiggling pup was tossed to the ground, and quickly stepped on. Whimpers mixed with the sounds of squishing flesh and guts filled my ears, fueling on my 'sickness'. And once the whimpers started to fade, claws quickly dug in to finish the task. What was salvageable was quickly consumed, and the rest left to the scavengers of our lands. My hunger satiated, I moved back into the comfort of the shadows. There I would wait until my services were needed once more.

So, what have I done?
I have protected my clan and served my God. The blood of many stains my cloak as a testament to my loyalty and power. The mention of my name inflicts terror into all, and the sound of my laugh lets them know they are done for.
What have you done?

-xx_Bullseye_xx

 

[Shaoilin]

Blood of the Shadows
Those who have persevered,
ones who have survived,
and the few who have truly thrived.

Obey those above you and make sure that those below do the same, for you and yours are what keeps the Clan thriving.

Panzerfaust's Trials...

You were but one among the many who called for the vagabond's exile. It was only later, after whispers of the clan's secrets drifted to your ears from the mouths of strangers- that you regretted it. You should have known that old daywalker would have been nothing but trouble once he was banished from the pack. The animals who heard your clan's tales and secrets, they don't know and do not understand the things that they are being told.

But you know that it is a matter of time.

For soon they will begin to realize that their pups do not just wonder off at night, soon they will know that their females don't just run off into the dark- never to be seen or scented again... Soon, they will know.

Panzerfaust's Victories...

That vagabond! The one whom he called for to be exiled. He knew it. He knew there would be trouble if it was only exile. Why not kill the vagabond? He could have stressed the issue to his God, his Alpha, to put down the lowly monger who did not follow his God, their God's law. He should have! He should have told the Strong Right Paw... or the Strong Left Paw. Either beta, either male above him, could have taken the issue with their god.

The vagabond tells strangers, other animals of their God's secrets. He tells of the pack's
secrets. Crows, lynxes, and other various animals.... he heard the mutterings. He heard of his own pack's tales and secrets from those who would never have known unless told... Told by that lowly, forsaken vagabond! Of course he had made sure those strangers knew no more... or could not speak of the pack's secrets anymore but the vagabond!

Panzerfaust knew of fear... Would his God exile him.. dispose of him who called for the daywalker's exile? He was offhandedly one of the causes for allowing the pack's secrets to the outside strangers... to the animals he heard mutterings from. Soon... soon other wolves would know. Know what happened to their pups and their females if this continued.

Panzerfaust knew what he would do. What he must do. He would take care of the vagabond. He would correct this regret to the pack and right it. Right the tales and secrets.

Panzerfaust left his den and approached cautiously. He knew that The Strong Left Paw may kill him. Who knew of what the trembles and sickness have led the beta to do? He could be maimed. Maybe The Weapon knew that this wrong was his fault, his fault for pushing for the vagabond's exile. He made sure that The Strong Left Paw's figure was downwind of him, so the beta knew that he was approaching and would not take him as a threat.

"What do you want, gamma?" A voice growled, shaking Panzerfaust's bones to their very core.

"You who are our God's Strong Left Paw, his Weapon. Do you know what I regret most?" Panzerfaust asked.

"Get on with it, gamma! I don't need your ramblings. Speak, or face the consequences. I know that you think of the vagabond. What. of. it?" Panzerfaust could see the saliva dripping from The Weapon's fangs. He saw The Weapon lick his chops.

"The animals... the vagabond is telling of our God's secrets. Please, ask our God, or allow me to take care of it. I want to kill him for telling of our secrets... our God's secrets. Please allow me to hunt the vagabond down."

"You dare ask me to do anything for you?!" The Weapon growled at him.

Panzerfaust quickly bowed low to the ground, baring his neck to one who was above him. To show that he knew his God's laws and traditions. After all, he helped keep them and help them thrive. He stayed there until he heard the voice, his God's voice.

Panzerfaust's heart filled with joy. He would be allowed to correct his wrong. He would be able to be a part of the vagabond's silencing. If they couldn't kill the lowly monger, they would make sure he would never, ever be able to speak again.

- THE kage

Keep to the shadows, avoid the light, and your clan will prosper; for they depend on you, after all.

Rummy's Trials...

You are but one of the many who keep the old ways alive. You ensure that the lower ranks complete their tasks to your alpha's satisfaction. You make sure that the new pups are being well looked after and appropriately trained. You are the one that keeps the omega's in line.

While the beta's do the bidding of the alpha, you, along with others of your rank are responsible for the continued livelihood of the clan. Without you delegating tasks and responsibilities to the rest of the pack while those above you are busy, little to nothing would get done...

Rummy's Victories...

Pup-times were not something Rummy remembered fondly, nor did he remember them strongly. He did not remember his mother, nor did he remember if he had ever been surrounded by any pack other than the one headed now by his beloved Alpha. He probably hadn’t been. Rummy knew he was not the strongest, nor cleverest, nor smartest wolf—traits that are often fostered in a pack, though not by a pair of lone wolves. While he did not raise the pups—a task that required full-time attention, which he did not have—he did watch them grow and note their skills so that, when they became adolescents, they could have those skills fostered into something the pack would use. So he knew that pups taken from packs were often the strongest—though they could cause problems as they were indoctrinated into the bloodthirsty ways of their new pack. The omega who pup-stole knew this too, of course, so he was willing to take more risks to steal the pups of packs. It was a gamble that nearly always paid off.

Rummy watched this year’s group of pups play-fighting in front of the pup-den, watched by the slouched gray omega. They had been together for nearly one moon now—some longer. Three were from packs, two were not. It was summer, past whelping time, because the pups had to be stolen at that critical time when they were not yet entirely imprinted but could survive without their mother’s milk. The pups should have been going at it like most young pups would, though perhaps with more vigor and less compassion—a lack of females and the general atmosphere of the pack would cause that. For the most part, they were; all but one. He had been stolen from a pack, but he did not live up to his potential. His pelt was swirled with orange and brown, and while large, he seemed a sickly pup. Everything he did seem half-hearted and slow. Perhaps he had been taken from his mother too late. Perhaps too early. For whatever reason, Rummy could see that he would be of no use to the pack.

His lip curled up in a snarl and he turned away from the vision, heading deeper into the woods to escape the sun that filtered through the trees strongest near the pup-den. Most of the pack was asleep at this time of day, but the pups had not yet adjusted to this schedule. They still became drowsy at nightfall, though they were staying awake longer and longer.

Nightfall. That was when Rummy’s deed would be done.

Awakening as the sun set, as did the rest of the pack, Rummy made his way to the pup-den. He had to move his veil—the veil he wore as an Omega, to make him think before he spoke or used his powerful jaws. The children were still out, still playing, though a few had sat down and were blinking sleepily. The weakling was one of them. Rummy approached him, and without a word he bent down and swept the pup up by the nape of his neck. Automatically, the pup curled into a ball to be carried. He had learned one lesson well—never question an elder member of the pack. No one but the pup-sitter.

Rummy carried the pup to the lake, where he set him down. He looked down and once again covered his face, so the pup would not know his expression. “We’re going to learn to swim, pup,” he said, trying to make his voice less rough. There was no answer, merely a curious stare. Nudging the pup with his noise, he encouraged the little wolf to enter the shallows. Slowly at first, then eagerly, the pup began to splash about. What a surprise! And with none of the other pups!

Rummy splashed with the pup, then began to enter deeper water. The pup followed, oblivious as his feet left the bottom of the lake. He paddled in small circles and barked once.

Rummy again snatched the pup by the back of the neck, but he did not carry him out. He dove under the water and pulled the pup down with him, before the young one could make a sound. Surfacing, Rummy held the pup underwater with his forefeet, watching as bubbles rose from the child’s nose and mouth, obscuring his face. Rummy imagined it painted with fear and horror. He held the pup until it no longer struggled, then pulled the body out. He shook himself, adjusting his sodden robe, then pressed his ear to the pup’s chest. No sound.

The pups woke to strange meat the next afternoon: delicious, but different. The pup-sitter glanced up at Rummy with tired eyes, but asked no questions.

“They must get used to the taste,” Rummy said, turning to walk away. “This is their destiny.”

-Milorganite

Love them, hate them, obey them... you do what you must until it is your turn to rule. For if you fail...

Fallyn's Trials...

You will be the next alpha. You will inherit the loyal shield and bloodthirsty weapon. You have been raised with this knowledge since you were but a tiny pup, stolen away in the dead of night. For this honor, you love your alpha. For such a privilege, you can scarcely wait to command the beta's do do your bidding.

But for it all, you hate them too. For your hate is born of your fears; because you see the flaws in this grand design. The loyal shield only has eyes for his god, the alpha- they never once look upon you with such devotion. The hungry weapon is not calm in your presence, he can not be controlled by you- what's worse, is you have seen that your very existence incenses him, makes his trembling grow into shakes, turns his shining eyes into the barest pinpricks of light that show his unending hunger...

Fallyn's Victories...

The wolf with fur like the ocean's currents slid silently through the foliage, paws stepping lightly and delicately, giving the illusion that only a shadow moved in the forest tonight. In fact, that was close enough to the truth to be factual. The living shadow's cloak caught on a grasping branch, but with a pause and a practiced shake, the cloth was freed and the wolf moved on unhindered. With enough time, one learned such tricks that became almost instinctual and necessary for wearing cloth in the wild. However, the cloak was more than just a simple garment. It was a symbol of the Brotherhood...a physical connection to something that was so much more...it was a part of him. There was no separating him from the cloak. They were one.

Ironic, considering at the moment he was rushing to put as much distance between himself and his bretheren. He didn't feel like one of them at the moment and it wasn't often he ever did. For now, he just needed some time away from everyone. Some time to be by himself and enjoy the silence that pierced the land just after darkness fell. By now, all knew to fear the shadows of this land that haunted the night. While silence was no guarantee of survival, noise would certainly ensure your swift death at the fangs and claws of the living shadows that the wolf called "Brothers."

It was a name in tradition only, or at least so the young male felt. Part of the reason he had set out while the others were just beginning to stir from slumber was so that he could avoid the inevitable suspicious and disapproving stares that he felt following his every move, every moment of the da---err, night. Whenever he was awake, he could feel their eyes on him. And why? It wasn't as if he'd asked for this!

Movements growing more purposeful in the past few moments, the young Gamma called 'Fallyn' swiftly and almost automatically steered towards one of his favorite spots to be alone. The high hill offered a favorable viewpoint in all directions to watch for others' arrivals while still supporting enough small brush for him to use as shelter. That, and the clearing in the canopy would allow him to view the beautiful moon tonight. Despite the peaceful surroundings and ethereal moonlit beauty, Fallyn's thoughts remained a chaotic, tumbling mass in his poor, beleagered mind.

Why him? Of all the pups taken at the time, why had he been chosen for such a role? What had set him apart from the others, he'd never know. In fact, only the Alpha God would ever know the answer to that particular mystery.

And it wasn't that Fallyn didn't want to be Alpha one day...everyone was supposed to want that, right? It was just...there were times when he thought it might be easier to just be a normal Gamma for the remainder of his days rather than shouldering such responsibility. Could his dubious shoulders even support such a burden? He doubted it...often. Though, the thoughts sounded traitorous, so he kept them shoved roughly to the back of his mind as best he could.

Same as how he'd never question the Alpha God...at least not aloud. But still, how could such an important decision be made so early? With only mere pups? Shouldn't there have been some sort of test or waiting period to see how the little ones would turn out? Their personalities and capabilities weighed and classsified before deciding which one would be the most suitable future heir?

Fallyn sighed softly, feeling an imaginary weight settle once more around his shoulders as he shifted his cloak and looked up at the moon. Such tretcherous thoughts...they made him feel as if he were greatly in the wrong...as if he'd be leapt upon and punished by his bretheren at a moment's notice just for thinking this way. His hood slid back, exposing his eyes and muzzle completely to the bright light of the moon. Without warning or even conscious thought, his jaws opened and with a deep breath, he let out a long, low, mournful howl. He knew the others would hear...even if they wouldn't be able to figure out what it meant. Hell, he didn't know what it meant either. It was a strange mixture of frustration, confusion, longing, and dispair. He just had to let it out, whatever it was...somehow.

The Heir let his head drop as the sound faded away on the winds, eyes closed. The Alpha God...well, who really knew what he thought? Beyond the fact that he himself had chosen Fallyn for his heir so long ago, at least. The Betas' feelings were obvious enough to anyone. The Shield only had eyes for his God and no other...and the Weapon would rather eat Fallyn than ever follow him. The Heir shuddered momentarily. The Weapon honestly scared him like no other wolf ever could, not even the Alpha God. Not in the same way at least. The Alpha was powerful, commanding...frightening in his own right. However, the Weapon was chilling in his brutal efficiency and the obvious pleasure he drew from his violent position. Not to mention the increasing feral nature of the Weapon and how he seemed less and less controllable with each passing day. Who knew how long until he completely went feral and turned on the rest of the pack, to the point where even the Alpha God couldn't control him anymore? The thought was disturbing.

His fellow Gammas thought little enough of him, Fallyn knew that much. Even if they kept quiet for now, the looks in their eyes gave them all away. And the Omegas and pups...well, it didn't really matter what they thought, did it? Either way, the Heir was pretty sure that even if they had opinions, they wouldn't be favorable either.

It'd been hard enough growing up with the title of future Heir to the Alpha God. Fallyn wondered sometimes what it would have been like to grow up like a normal pup in the pack, without the expectations and requirements that had been heaped upon his shoulders before he could even walk. The other pups his age had picked up quickly on how the adults had treated him differently than the rest. Of course, their thoughts had not turned to deference...but to jealousy and distain. He couldn't count the number of scraps he'd gotten in during his younger years, but there had been some rough ones. A few in which he'd been ganged up on and the old Omega nursemaid had been required to come to his rescue.

The bullying...or 'challenges' as they could have been viewed, didn't stop as the pups grew. As adolescents, the fights only became more bloody and more frequent. One particularly cocky youngster, Fallyn thought he remembered the other being black and red with a touch of silver in his fur, had been looking for more than just a scuffle. He'd been out for the Heir's blood and was willing to do anything to get it. Fallyn had found himself in the first real fight for his life that day. The other male had been skilled and what he lacked in weight, he'd more than made up for in speed. The Heir only remembered bits and pieces of that day after the fight began, but he thought he'd been holding his own before his memory blanked out on him. He lost half of his tail that day. He shuddered to remember what had been left of the other young male. Apparently the Weapon had been rather hungry that day and rather than endanger his chosen Heir, the Alpha God had turned him loose on the aggressive youngster who had dared attack the Heir. To be honest, Fallyn was only guessing at what had happened exactly.

His thoughts now were not to regret what had happened to his challenger. Oh no, not at all. The only thing he regretted was that he couldn't have been the one to deal out that punishment personally. If he was going to be Alpha one day, Fallyn needed to start earning respect now if at all possible. Fear was a good way to start. He knew that well enough from experience. He felt like such a coward...fearing the others and never standing up for himself...never doing anything to show that he was a capable member of the pack and future leader. He was a failure and he knew it. The trick was to keep that feeling hidden and keep up a confident attitude to fool the others until he could figure out how to make them fear and respect him like they did the Alpha God.

It was no small feat.

Fallyn stiffened suddenly. There had been no noise...no movement to alert him to a problem, but something else. The pervading stench of death and decay mixed with old blood...and fear. Fear belonging to countless others and simply absorbed by the singular entity that approached. Fallyn himself began to tremble inside as the scent grew stronger. He knew that scent. He knew it quite well, but that did nothing to halt the fear and adrenaline that flooded his system as the scent grew stronger on the air.

A small rustle in the brush and a muted growl was enough to startle the Heir. He whirled around, dropping into a low crouch and growling back lowly. Whoops...aggressive movement and sound...big mistake. He knew it too, but it was too late now.

Within seconds, he found himself on his back, the still-twitching Weapon's weight atop him. As if that wasn't enough, one of the other male's forepaws was being roughly pressed into Fallyn's throat, cutting off his air supply. Fallyn's quick movement had been enough to set off the Weapon's madness. The bloodlust was strong in his eyes and if Fallyn wasn't so busy just trying to draw air into his lungs, he'd have probably been begging for mercy without restraint or second thought.

'What is this? Withdraw, my Weapon! I asked you to find my Heir, not hunt him!'

The Weapon froze, his open jaw hovering just inches from the Heir. Yes, the bloodlust was strong...but his Alpha God still held sway over his Weapon, even in this state. As the Alpha God stalked towards the scene, the Weapon slowly began to withdraw, eyes still wild and blood-stained fangs exposed in the moonlight.

Maybe it was the oxygen deprivation. Maybe it was something else. Later, even Fallyn would not be able to say why he reacted as such...

See, there's a funny thing about fear. Everyone has a limit as to how much they can take before one of two things happens. Either they give in to the fear, letting it take over and turn them into sniveling, broken cowards for the remainder of their days, weak and submissive to whatever caused their fear...or the opposite happens. The individual decides that they have taken enough and that there is no more room in their lives for fear. This decision may or may not be conscious, but the reaction is usually quite dramatic. The individual snaps, and either violence, anger, or some other powerful emotion takes control as they decide to fight back.

Before he consciously realized what he was doing, Fallyn tensed and leapt from the ground as soon as the Weapon's weight left his throat. His own forepaws shot upward towards the Weapon's jaw, using their combined inertia to push the Weapon towards the ground, shoving his muzzle backwards and exposing his throat. If he hadn't been half out of his mind on pure adrenaline, Fallyn would have noted that while he'd taken the Weapon by surprise with his attack, it wouldn't last long. This was the Alpha God's Weapon afterall.

The Alpha God's sharp voice sent chills down the Heir's spine and he froze, regaining his senses before his fangs could sink into the Beta's throat. 'Stop this! Both of you, control yourselves! This Weapon is still mine; he is not yours yet, Heir, and you'd best remember that.' Fallyn struggled to hide his returning shivers as he backed down from the Weapon. Of course, the Alpha God's Weapon wouldn't let him get by without some sort of retribution, as he soon learned when the other male's teeth sank into his foreleg as the Heir withdrew. Fallyn barely felt the wound through his fear and adrenaline, but he'd be feeling it later.

Trembling visibly once more, the Weapon withdrew as well, only after a stern glare and snarl from the Alpha God. The Heir's gaze never left the Alpha's, as he knew the pack's traditions well...even if he wanted desperately to turn away right now. What had he just done? He'd attacked the Weapon! He should have died in the attempt, honestly, but what had ever prompted him to do it anyway? Insanity maybe...

'My Heir.' The Alpha God's voice was strong, yet soft...stern, yet..was that...? 'I have something to discuss with you. Come and see me when the moon reaches the midpoint of the night sky. I will be waiting...so don't keep me waiting long.' With that, the imposing male, whirled and stalked away, the very picture of fierce, deadly confidence; the perfect leader that Fallyn could only hope to mimic one day.

Something was different though. Fallyn was pretty sure he hadn't imagined it either. He was so busy thinking, he barely registered the Weapon's departure, following after his Alpha God with a dark snarl aimed discretely at the Heir. The male Gamma was sure he'd heard something new in the Alpha's voice just now...something...like a subtle note of...pride? Surprised and a bit amused, perhaps...but pride, or something much like it, had hovered in his voice when he'd spoken to his Heir before leaving.

Pausing to glance back up at the moon, before straightening his cloak, Fallyn felt something new as well. A slight swelling in his chest. It was...a good feeling, even if it was completely foreign. Perhaps fear didn't have to be a constant companion in life.

Not anymore.

- Teigra

 

[Shaoilin]

Bondsmen of the Brotherhood
Ensuring the livelihood of the dark,
they are the masters of their trade.

You keep your eyes up but your tail down, when you've no pups to care for, you search for the scraps of their attentions.

Elapse's Trials...

You care for the little ones, teach them the way of the pack, the traditions of the Clan, and help them to grow big and strong like the rest of their brothers. You love them for their innocence, their youth, their inherent charm that only young pups are capable of. It is only a pity that you do not always have newborn pups to take care of and raise; for if you did, you would not be suffering so greatly.

Your heart is too big; because of it, you are in anguish over your existence when there are no young ones to distract you. To distract you from the burning upon your back, the symbol of the Clan- that which all members of the pack wear proudly upon their brow... except you. And the others like you...

Elapse's Victories...

‘The outside world baffles me. Other packs, other wolves, other dangers and the thought alone of stepping beyond the borders of our territory is terrifying. Why would I desire more? Why would I ever…
I guess I wouldn’t be honest if I said I’ve never thought of what was beyond those dense trees. Better things maybe? I was told when I was very young that I wasn’t born into this pack and didn’t understand where I came from until my job within the borders opened my eyes to the truth of everything. With no females it was a wonder I didn’t catch it sooner. But then again, that’s why I’m the rank I have been so gently bestowed; intelligence isn’t my strongpoint and I have no true forte for any physical thing. All in all I fail as a true wolf. Are not wolves the embodiment of strength and freedom?

I remember my caretaker who so calmly taught me the ways of the pack while teaching the other pups just how to use the gifts that were so blessedly conferred, while blatantly honing their allegiances. My weakness was sniffed out young so naturally my training started to take a turn in a different direction. Instead of learning the traits of a warrior, a shadow, a hunter, I was taught the very same career that my mentor was providing for me. I was in line to become his heir…
I never expected it would come so soon. Ten months old on the dot my mentor was tragically killed accidentally during training with one of my litter mates, Squall who was rightly named. The older wolf had taken a fall, landing just so that his neck snapped as his weight came down. The others didn’t morn as I did…they didn’t know him like had; he was my father figure, my hope, my family and the only one to actually gave me attention in a light that befitted a member of this proud pack. The weakness that radiated from me was easily ignored by the others, prompting anyone with any lick of sense to look away as I addressed them, after all, who would waste time on someone so useless?

That’s how things are to this day. I don’t argue, I have no right to argue with those who are my betters because despite how I’m often treated I respect them, admire them greatly and would otherwise love to avoid their fangs because of a show of insolence. Hmm…maybe that’s why I enjoy pups so much. They love me, listen to me and show me a world that I can understand. Their innocence is something I can no longer accommodate, something that my dirty body has no way of reaching, but I’m alright with that and hope that maybe if I try hard enough these little ones will build a better pack in the future, a pack that doesn’t ignore the weak and down trodden. They are the future and a precious one at that.

Starting young and without adequate enough experience, I am now a full three autumns and have seen quite a few pups under my care. Even so, I am ignored when I do not have the chance to lead the youth of the pack. Maybe that’s because my role is like that of not just a mentor, but a mother to these pups. Why is it that the female gender is exiled from this pack? I’ve never been able to observe that answer, nor heard whispers if a reason even exists. Regardless, the reason for my rank has no value in discussing with my betters. There is no point. But maybe…maybe I’ll be appreciated for my hard work and maybe…maybe someday I’ll be allowed to pull this heavy cloak over my ears in pride.’

The crack of rolling thunder rippled the canopy above, lighting briefly the atmosphere of the usually unchanging forest. What was hidden in those shadows were exposed for those few seconds while the branches of light spindled through the sky, reaching out like great tendrils of electric vine. A small hooded creature looked upward through the branches, forcing himself not to cower down, behaving like the Sikla he was viewed as. The only difference with his attire and the those of higher ranks was the placement of his hood. The degrading fold hooking it to his back displaying his bare head was nothing but a disgrace to those of his rank, and something he questioned daily. Why was it that they were treated differently when their jobs were equally as important? But even among those like him, he was the lowest of the low. The pup thief had garnered praise from God himself! Why not Elapse? Was not his career just as important?

Turning from the sky, his dark pads continued forward, leading into the den area where several small youths sleeping, curled there comfortably. A small smile spread across the male’s face. He hated the fact that he had to wake them, but this was the perfect chance to let the youth’s experience rain and mobilizing through it. It was key that the skill was majored before their adolescent stage when they’d learn to battle in the harsh weather, as well as hunt and destroy. Padding forward, he bowed his head, reaching to touch one of the little ones lightly but as he put his nose against him he found that nothing was there. The images vanished before his eyes, forcing him to step back in alarm. ’I imagined them? I…I must be growing senile in my loneliness…’ he smiled slightly for lack of a better response in his shame. Those he had imagined were the previous pups he had trained, all of which were now strong gammas and on the brink of adulthood. Another crack ripped through the air, this time, sending the showers down.

With soft pads and a tired expression, the cloaked creature moved out of the den, allowing the rain to flow down, soaking him with each gentle pelt that felt as though each was cleansing away his sin. In a gloomy kind of way, it was refreshing. That same sorrowed smile lingered on his maw, hardly fading as he stood there, alone and soaked. Fluffing his tail, a ripple started down his spine, before he shook himself, a prologue to heading back into the shelter that felt so empty. Flopping down, his head lay atop his paws, allowing himself to slip into a haze.

Memories floated forward of a happy time, a simple place, and a soft murmur. Whose voice had spoken to him? It was so soft, so lovely, like a gentle spring flower beside a clear babbling brook. The scent was also familiar…it was like, like honeysuckle. This time his smile was genuine. Yapping, the pad of paw against soft ground, and the vision of pups surrounded his mind. ‘I don’t recognize these. I didn’t raise them…’ he murmured to himself before realizing that these were not those he raised, but those he was born with. Elapse’s own family. That thin tail of his wrapped around his hip, wagging lightly at the tip while his memories encased him. How warm…how nostalgic. The lovely voice of his mother was interrupted, no, faded into something else, something far more masculine and far more sinister. Fluttering, his lids lifted lazily, revealing another familiar face, this one though, not brought forth by fleeting longings.

A sigh followed as he stared at the Thief. Loathing and appreciation mingled in one as he stared up at him, knowing both fully that it was because of his job that he was taken from his family but it was also because of him that so much joy was put into his life with the bringing of pups. There was no greater confusion. But now a new journey would begin with life starting its perpetual track once more; someday this too would end and he would be brought more pups, but for now he relaxed, knowing that he would continue through life in this same state unable to persuade the alpha’s further nor garner any affection from his pack any more than he was capable of attaining now. There was always the future. There was always tomorrow.

- Daeril-sama

You take what they cared little for, and you regret nothing.

Loki's Trials...

Every night after the sun goes down, you wake with a grin. You bow your eternal thanks to the alpha himself before slinking off into the shadows to whisk away the strongest male pups from such poor, worthless, and undeserving females. And every time you steal away another worthy pup amidst the mournful howls of its birth family... you smile.

You take the pups for they are better off with your clan, than with their own lowly pack. You snatch them from their siblings because it thrills you. You steal the young puppies from their dens because it is your right. An honor only those of your station are able to perform... and it is something you excel at, leaving the others of your rank in shame.

For even the almighty alpha recognizes your brilliance, your finesse... why, even when you raised your head to meet his in gratitude on the night of the new moon; his great muzzle drew back into a grin as sharp as your own instead of delivering a harsh rebuke- as was within his rights for such a show of disrespect. But you both knew it was far from that... even the Weapon and the Shield knew the truth of it...

Loki's Victories...

The moon rises again. Oh, it feels like a good night. This will be the night that I will bring real blood to the pack. I have been watching these packs for weeks. Their warriors are strong, agile. Their Alphas are cunning, quick. Even their Omega's have skill that I haven't seen in a long time. I even watched their weak females, and they have potential. The blood here, is ripe for my deft manipulations. Oh, this will be fun. These packs don't have any idea what they are in for.

I have been prowling these packs for weeks, watching, evaluating. The one has a two new litters, for a total of six males. The other, has only one, but there are three males. The blood running through these pups is that of the Alpha of each pack. Their mothers were surprisingly cunning themselves. Normally we only take the strongest, lone male from a pack, carrying it from its den. The blood here is too good, to pure, to pass up. I want them all. I planned, manipulated, studied, and watched both packs. I found their weakness, and I have began to manipulate it. It wasn't really hard, just a gentle push on their ego, a breach in territories, and tension explodes. The hardest part was making my scent enough like one of them to make it convincing. That is why the weeks have been so long. It took following the pack on hunts, eating their foods, sleeping near their dens, truly living their life. I could feel my body change, and my smell became weak. It was like I was becoming one of those worthless packs. The torture of the weeks was worth it, because I was able to use my scent to make it seem like the pack had invaded the others territory. The kills of the food, the waste I left, everything seemed to point to the pack I trailed. Then one night, I stole up behind one of the packs scouts, silent as I had been trained, and killed it before it put up a fight. To make sure the war began, I left the corpse in the most degrading way I could, and made sure I devoured its heart, and liver.

These two packs began fighting, just as I had hoped. Just skirmishes at first, revenge for the kill, vengeance for the attack. The fun began. I did what I could to push the fights along. There were nights that these packs never saw each other, never were able to track each other down, yet they lost warriors. It all lead to tonight. Tonight, the tension in the two packs was huge, and the Alphas had declared war on each other. All of the pack, minus the brood mother, on each side were to converge on each other, and fight to the death. The first pack, the one I had tracked would be the first to lose their pups. I hugged the shadows, blending, becoming one with them. Into the den, not even the brood mother scenting me. I came behind her, and took her out with a quick bite to the throat. If I had the time, I would feed. She had sweet blood, and her meat would bring me the sustenance I needed to continue. Instead, I found the pups, killed the females quickly, and told the males to drink the blood, and feed on their sisters corpses. It would be their first test. Of the three males, only one didn't feed. His death was at my paw, but his brothers helped. They fed again on the blood of the weak.

I lead the two remaining pups teaching them to hide within the shadows. Their true training would begin soon enough, yet I was not above their early initiation. We made it to the second den halfway through the night. The two litters were being watched by one female. She died as quickly as the last, and my new "recruits" needed no instructions. They began to eat. I again killed the female pups, and tested the males. I had two refuse, and my two recruits fought them. I couldn't believe how quickly these young pups took to the way of the shadow. Soon enough, I had six young pups, eager to prove themselves, and to survive. I couldn't lead quite that many, not without leaving a trail. Turning them on each other, make them show me just who was worthy of the pack. They fought, they killed, and I was amused again. These little pups were acting out the larger war going on not far from here. Soon it was down to managable numbers, I had the two original "recruits" and two from this new den. Four pups, all eager to please me, to show that they deserve to live. These will make perfect members of the Shadows. I began to lead them to our lands, taking them near the battle going on. I wanted to see who was winning. It didn't matter, but starting this fight was hard work, it would be a shame to leave without seeing it's results.

Far from the two packs, bedded down for the morning, I rested. I watched the new pups wrestle with each other, no longer fighting for their lives, but still establishing dominance among each other. On the wind, I heard a mournful howl, answered by another coming from a different direction. The packs had found their dens finally. I loved the sound when one pup was stolen in the night, taken under the noses of the pack. This project was so much fun, and the new pups were already craving the blood of their own kind. I could imagine one day, these "recruits" heading back into their own old packs, and taking their cousins, and feeling the same disdain I felt now. Perhaps that was the true meaning of being Shadow. Knowing you were better than those that birthed you.

-Dandrel