02-03-2020, 06:22 AM
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The smell of fresh berries and sweet wine would fill ones nose. The people wasted in boredom, ambition festering in their flesh, each waiting to seize their own moment; the Devararian would provide. The great wolf had woken up early and strode through dewy grass, foliage scraping and soaking his fur as he traveled in the direction of Kokutan's Keep. The beast found a thick log leaning against another and he leapt to take his place where he would reside above all his people. The Devararian’s call was a deep rough howl with a cold echo that bounced against the plethora of twisted trunks, of mossy stone, and crystal lakes:
"Come now, Woestynians. Feast on this food and sleep within my warmth."
The beast waited for them. He would only call them once. He said nothing as they filtered in, one by one. He did not particularly care for their names, though they may offer them. He did not need to give his. They knew him. They would know the Devararian. Soon he would take them up in his grasps to shuffle and place them like cards; give them ranks, things to do, jobs to do. Their potential wouldn’t be left to rot away in the shadows of Woestyn.
In all honesty, he was hungry. The food just lying out upon flattened logs didn't help the churning feeling within his stomach. But as the leader of the newley founded pack, he needed to stay where he was. Above his people; literally and figuratively. The beast observed each an every body that spilled in from the outside world, he soon would get to know everyone of them.
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Call Me Mr. Rattlebone
[div style="background-color:#BG COLOR;width:90%;max-height: 350px;overflow: auto;"][div style="background-color:#BG COLOR;width:90%; overflow: stretch;text-align: justify; font-size: 8pt;"] Tonight would shape itself.Call Me Mr. Rattlebone
The smell of fresh berries and sweet wine would fill ones nose. The people wasted in boredom, ambition festering in their flesh, each waiting to seize their own moment; the Devararian would provide. The great wolf had woken up early and strode through dewy grass, foliage scraping and soaking his fur as he traveled in the direction of Kokutan's Keep. The beast found a thick log leaning against another and he leapt to take his place where he would reside above all his people. The Devararian’s call was a deep rough howl with a cold echo that bounced against the plethora of twisted trunks, of mossy stone, and crystal lakes:
"Come now, Woestynians. Feast on this food and sleep within my warmth."
The beast waited for them. He would only call them once. He said nothing as they filtered in, one by one. He did not particularly care for their names, though they may offer them. He did not need to give his. They knew him. They would know the Devararian. Soon he would take them up in his grasps to shuffle and place them like cards; give them ranks, things to do, jobs to do. Their potential wouldn’t be left to rot away in the shadows of Woestyn.
In all honesty, he was hungry. The food just lying out upon flattened logs didn't help the churning feeling within his stomach. But as the leader of the newley founded pack, he needed to stay where he was. Above his people; literally and figuratively. The beast observed each an every body that spilled in from the outside world, he soon would get to know everyone of them.
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I demand only this...that you join with me in building a new Rome, a Rome that offers justice, peace and land to all its citizens, not just the privileged few. Support me in this task, and old divisions will be forgotten. Oppose me, and Rome will not forgive you a second time!
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