Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: May 2, 2024 7:34:31 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Mar 23, 2018 10:45:19 GMT -8
"Who said anything about mate? Or pups, for that matter?" Rosamond said with a swish of her hair as she turned around and began to lead him through the castle. The hallways were like mazes, and the staircases had a habit of moving and changing at a whim. Sconces on the wall seemed to lean forward as if looking at the male in their hallowed halls, and if Fenrir was observant, he'd see that none of the artwork -- not a painting, not a tapestry, not a sculpture -- featured a man.
"You don't actually intend on staying long, do you?" Rosamond asked as they walked. "You seem like a restless sort of person." She turned a little, her gaze running over his form, taking into account the leather he wore, the armor that graced him, his weapon.
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Fenrir Skargard
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 196 
Age: 29
Physical Description: Fenrir is a large Arctic Werewolf, with fur as white as the snow that plagues his habitat. His paws and muzzle are stained a slight pinkish color from the bloody nature of his food, primarily Caribou and Mountain Seal. His yellow eyes are predatory, and would be terrifying to see in the darkness of a cave or blizzard. He stands roughly 7ft tall, and weighs nearly 300lbs. His fur, claws, and teeth are immaculately well-maintained, as the Wolf believes that keeping oneself clean is foremost in respecting another, for if you do not respect yourself, you cannot respect others.
Clothes and Equipment: He wields the mighty sword White Fang, a Frost-Enchanted Sword he took from the lifeless corpse of a White Witch whom had promised him the sword, then tried to kill him with. The sword, imbued with the blood of the witch, gives him abilities similar to hers, mainly focusing on cold and frost related abilities. His legs are covered by plate armor, and his left arm is covered in a gauntlet with fingers ending in wicked looking claws. The gauntlet is inscribed with more Frost Runes, giving it similar, albeit less powerful, abilities to White Fang.
Registered: May 30, 2016 8:38:38 GMT -8
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Post by Fenrir Skargard on Mar 23, 2018 10:57:53 GMT -8
Why is this witch being deliberately obnoxious? Fenrir though to himself, a tad puzzled.
"I have travelled a lot recently, not out of a sense of restlessness but due to a lack of meaning in whatever I attempted to do. It's why I came here, to figure out why."
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: May 2, 2024 7:34:31 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Mar 23, 2018 11:29:37 GMT -8
"Uh... huh...." She said, the notes elongated. She came to a door that was so short, even she had to stoop down to open it and go through it. It was cold inside, brisk, and it was dark. The heels of her boots echoed against the dark stone walls, and the single lonely staircase that spun up and and up and up and up and up and up into a hollow darkness above their heads.
"And... you think you'll find that purpose teaching young witches how to defend themselves against the mundane? Do you have any experience with young women? Teaching them, that is," she added a little sardonically as she waved her hand and three floating balls of light spun into existence, rotating slowly around them as if she and Fenrir were the centers of their universe, their light illuminating the dark around them.
"Oh, perhaps you don't need these," she said after a moment, reminding herself that this was a wolf-man, and not a man-wolf, and two of the lights extinguished themselves so as not to blind his dog eyes.
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Fenrir Skargard
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 196
Age: 29
Physical Description: Fenrir is a large Arctic Werewolf, with fur as white as the snow that plagues his habitat. His paws and muzzle are stained a slight pinkish color from the bloody nature of his food, primarily Caribou and Mountain Seal. His yellow eyes are predatory, and would be terrifying to see in the darkness of a cave or blizzard. He stands roughly 7ft tall, and weighs nearly 300lbs. His fur, claws, and teeth are immaculately well-maintained, as the Wolf believes that keeping oneself clean is foremost in respecting another, for if you do not respect yourself, you cannot respect others.
Clothes and Equipment: He wields the mighty sword White Fang, a Frost-Enchanted Sword he took from the lifeless corpse of a White Witch whom had promised him the sword, then tried to kill him with. The sword, imbued with the blood of the witch, gives him abilities similar to hers, mainly focusing on cold and frost related abilities. His legs are covered by plate armor, and his left arm is covered in a gauntlet with fingers ending in wicked looking claws. The gauntlet is inscribed with more Frost Runes, giving it similar, albeit less powerful, abilities to White Fang.
Registered: May 30, 2016 8:38:38 GMT -8
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Post by Fenrir Skargard on Mar 23, 2018 11:47:39 GMT -8
"My former pack did not distinguish between male or female, and I led and trained both in battle. But they were of my own..."
Fenrir paused as he ducked and squeezed through the low doorway, wondering how much trouble he would be in if he enlarged it, slightly.
"...species, and not witches. If they are anything as condescending and irritating as yourself, I suspect I shall have my work cut out for me." He said, only half joking. Neither light level particularly bothered him, his eyes remaining the same frosty blue as always.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: May 2, 2024 7:34:31 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Mar 23, 2018 13:10:49 GMT -8
Rosamond's eyes narrowed on Fenrir's face. "If I'm irritating and condescending, it's only because I love these girls, and I don't want to see anyone like you coming into this place and ruining it for them."
Her tone was waspish, and she whirled on her heel, her jacket swirling around her knees as she began to mount the staircase with her crow fluttering on her shoulder, almost looking her balance with the vehemence for which she now walked.
She was grumbling beneath her breath. "Some man comes upon the castle and because Wyllonia's been single for Moon knows how long she just invites him on in here, knowing that most of these girls are adolescent and tricky. they'll take one whiff of him and--"
She stopped on a step and whirled to look at him, her crow giving a light caw that didn't even echo even though they were surrounded by stone -- and no ledge to stop them from dropping all the way down the center.
"-- What is your name again?"
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Fenrir Skargard
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 196
Age: 29
Physical Description: Fenrir is a large Arctic Werewolf, with fur as white as the snow that plagues his habitat. His paws and muzzle are stained a slight pinkish color from the bloody nature of his food, primarily Caribou and Mountain Seal. His yellow eyes are predatory, and would be terrifying to see in the darkness of a cave or blizzard. He stands roughly 7ft tall, and weighs nearly 300lbs. His fur, claws, and teeth are immaculately well-maintained, as the Wolf believes that keeping oneself clean is foremost in respecting another, for if you do not respect yourself, you cannot respect others.
Clothes and Equipment: He wields the mighty sword White Fang, a Frost-Enchanted Sword he took from the lifeless corpse of a White Witch whom had promised him the sword, then tried to kill him with. The sword, imbued with the blood of the witch, gives him abilities similar to hers, mainly focusing on cold and frost related abilities. His legs are covered by plate armor, and his left arm is covered in a gauntlet with fingers ending in wicked looking claws. The gauntlet is inscribed with more Frost Runes, giving it similar, albeit less powerful, abilities to White Fang.
Registered: May 30, 2016 8:38:38 GMT -8
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Post by Fenrir Skargard on Mar 23, 2018 17:09:46 GMT -8
"Someone like me? A male? A wolf? Or do you not like the fact that my form of practising magic doesn't involve wands and robes?" Fenrir heard every word she grumbled and stepped up.
"What is it you think those girls are going to face out there? Some politely worded criticism hidden behind a pretty smile and well done up hair? No, that is the exact opposite of what they will face. I've seen what they will face, been up to my shoulders in the viscera of the real world. It has teeth, claws, blades and armor, and it will not hold back. I have the scars to prove it. Their favorite target is young mages, mages who freeze up when they see the nasty bandit coming at them, freezing up just long enough to let that blade slip in. Can you teach them to defend against that?" He snarled at her, sick of her questioning him.
"Fenrir."
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: May 2, 2024 7:34:31 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Apr 2, 2018 15:18:36 GMT -8
She poked him in the chest.
Perhaps it wasn't wise -- oh, perhaps it most definitely wasn't wise, considering his height and his breadth and his strength and the fact that his jaw could easily snap her bones in half, but the silver-white haired witch with the blazing blue eyes was clearly mad, and it showed in the high color of her cheeks.
"Who are you to assume I don't know what those girls will face? I know exactly what a woman faces beyond these walls, and I have specialised in the way magic can be easily stripped from girls that would leave them otherwise defenseless. I do not doubt that they need to be taught the physical labors of martial prowess-- I doubt you, FENRIR." His name was like dripping acid on her lips.
Rosamond whirled on her heel, her silver hair lightly smacking him in the face as she stomped up each step, her crow deciding to fly from her shoulder rather that continue on the unstable perch.
Suddenly, she stopped and looked at him again. "And by the way, we do not use wands, nor do we wear robes, so I suggest you get those ridiculous thoughts out of your small canine brain before you make yourself look even more foolish on the field."
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Fenrir Skargard
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 196
Age: 29
Physical Description: Fenrir is a large Arctic Werewolf, with fur as white as the snow that plagues his habitat. His paws and muzzle are stained a slight pinkish color from the bloody nature of his food, primarily Caribou and Mountain Seal. His yellow eyes are predatory, and would be terrifying to see in the darkness of a cave or blizzard. He stands roughly 7ft tall, and weighs nearly 300lbs. His fur, claws, and teeth are immaculately well-maintained, as the Wolf believes that keeping oneself clean is foremost in respecting another, for if you do not respect yourself, you cannot respect others.
Clothes and Equipment: He wields the mighty sword White Fang, a Frost-Enchanted Sword he took from the lifeless corpse of a White Witch whom had promised him the sword, then tried to kill him with. The sword, imbued with the blood of the witch, gives him abilities similar to hers, mainly focusing on cold and frost related abilities. His legs are covered by plate armor, and his left arm is covered in a gauntlet with fingers ending in wicked looking claws. The gauntlet is inscribed with more Frost Runes, giving it similar, albeit less powerful, abilities to White Fang.
Registered: May 30, 2016 8:38:38 GMT -8
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Post by Fenrir Skargard on Apr 3, 2018 3:30:34 GMT -8
Fenrir laughed at the outburst, ignoring what many would see as a physical provocation.
"Fine then, doubt me all you wish, Witch. I look forward to proving you wrong, and if you truly care about these women, then I suspect you also want to be proven wrong. Or is your hatred so nearsighted that you would rather be right?" He chuckled and turned away, avoiding smashing his snout on a light post.
Two very different reactions, he mused. One witch, overly friendly and accommodating. The other, overtly hostile. Neither with any reason to act in the way they did. Given my failures, the second witch was perhaps more in the right, though she did not know it.
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