NOTICE The Wide-Eyed Wolf is
never going to take new members.
Two of the fall, tears gleam silver-white, for hope of the wood, and past of the night.
One where they stand, a spirit of blue, o' tortured his soul, to guide them all through.
One collects shards, in forests of green, chaos shall reign, destiny careen.
I am the last, who seals their fate, I stand paid in red, afore the black gate.
-The Sealed Fate-
We all know why we're here and what characters we are to play, correct? Sephi, you and I worked out your character. Larry, you'll begin as your parents. Mistral, you and I will begin at the battle of Seregduin (aka the battle of blood river) as our fathers. Neb, I'm sure you've schemed something up by now! In any case, this will run just like the One-Eyed Wolf. Except this time everybody will have a few more characters. We've got to weave an entire past, so use all the NPC's you like. (I myself will start out with about 62. Heh heh heh...) Ummmm... Well, ya'll know what to do! Let's begin!!
THE WIDE-EYED WOLF
Cyrus Nightblade
The half-elf moaned as the light sifted through his unwary lashes. His long ears collected a quick, soft gasp and rustlings on nearby ground. As his cobalt eyes adjusted to the brightness, a nimble hand reached quietly to his hip. He sighed relief, the muscles in his shoulders relaxing. His katana was there, and life was good because of this. Now visually coordinated, he looked around. A human cleric was hunched nearby, a pensive expression on her face. Cyrus leaned to get up. The cleric's warning hand came too late and the half-elf hissed in pain. Clutching his side, Cyrus slowly lowered himself back to the nearly worthless pile of musty blankets. His dark blue eyes narrowed at the edgy priest, one of his blue-black eyebrows raising on high. "What happened?" The priestess held out a peace-offering hand. "Sir, you were wounded in the battle." The half-elf scoffed at the young woman. "Well why am I still wounded then child? Is it not your job to heal?" The priestess nodded quickly, a hot flush coming over her face. "Yes sir, b-but our stocks have run very thin." Cyrus sighed. "Where's my pack?" The cleric pointed to a far corner of the tent. "Over there sir." Cyrus nodded. "Right. Be a dear and get me one of the green bottles from the top pocket." The priestess obeyed, however cautiously, and handed the bottle to Cyrus. He eagerly uncorked it and gulped it furiously. Tossing the glass aside to break, he leapt to his feet agiley. The cleric looked on in awe. Cyrus took his pack without a word, drawing out his katana. He shot a quick grin to the woman before striding out of the tent.
When outside, Cyrus immediately grappled the shoulder of the nearest sea-elven soldier. The fighter grinned wide when he saw the half-elf "Ai! Cyrus you damned mongrel! I thought you were dead!" Cyrus offered a smirk in return. "I know it dissapoints you Earros." Cyrus paused, then continued with some urgency. "Ah, but tell me of the battle Earros. Is the overgrown lizard dead yet?" Earros reluctantly shook his head. "I'm afraid not friend. After two monthes of open assault the thing seems unscathed." Cyrus growled, eyeing the smoke on the horizon. He knew it was from the battle. He turned back to Earros. "Where is Captain Brenner?" Earros looked a bit queasy. "Six feet under I'm afraid. Aragorn's in charge now." A puzzled look crossed Cyrus' face. "Aragorn? Hmmm... All right, fetch me my horse Earros. And hurry!" Earros stood stock still, smirking at Cyrus. "What do I look like? Your personal attendant? Pfh! You can catch your own damned horse Nightblade!"