Ashen Wolf's Fall

[Drak3 442]

The Ashen Wolf’s Fall

The First Seed, 1579

 

The days grew uncountable and a constant blur. With every passing one seemed to grow longer for a cursed individual. The constant hunger and pain that latched itself to her broken soul gnawed with that of a ravenous fever. Decades had passed since she had lost one of the few people she truly cared for any longer.

 

Brisk, even steps carried her onwards, farther and farther from civilization and any signs of life soon vanished as the landscape became  

a frigid, barren scene. The temperature dropped and for most creatures, the days passing would surely have sapped the life from most as the climate became even more hostile. Though it didn’t slow her down, instead. It only aided the broken figure on the trek as she began to climb upwards.

 

http://imgur.com/HIMzDU9

 

Clawing and grasping at any foot hole gained, the past-Elf continued up the steep mountain side without any signs of halting. More hours passed and it seemed like it was an eternity before finally coming to a cliffside along the towering mountain’s peak.

 

“What am I anymore.. What have I become..”

 

A faint whisper echoed out from what would be a Human female, garbed in torn and old tattered clothing. Now standing on the edge of the world, atop a cold and freezing summit is where she stared down into oblivion. Only the howling and brisk winds answered her question as the eyes of the reanimated husk looked down at the jagged rocks far below.

 

“Nothing truly matters anymore.. I have nothing left.. Noone.”

 

She’d make another remark while keeping her eyes glued downwards, how easy it would be to end it entirely. To give in and let go of everything that had transpired. All those she had hurt and forsaken in the past. All that have been marked by her actions. And all that had been wronged by her misshapen and twisted will.

 

Without any sense of time she lingered by the edge, now taking a seat to let both feet dangle loosely from the lip of the edge. All actions seemed to drain away which also carried her own cares as swiftly as the winds changed direction around.

 

http://imgur.com/1C2roGG

 

And with one single thought, she pushed forward, allowing her form to free fall from the edge. As gravity took the figure, she plummeted downwards. Faster and further until a short while after she connected briskly with the rocks below. Her frame was easily torn asunder and shredded upon the uncountable boulders below. With a series of sickening, bone crunching sounds, the frail body of the Human finally came to a halt.

 

The swift, final death was delivered with haste. And no reaction was further given from the ashen wolf. Only a broken husk littered the snow. Any blood was frozen in the veins of the disguise. The faintest wisps of blackened ash seeped out to disperse and evaporate into thin air. At long last, death was forced upon her own soul. The darkness engulfed her every thought while being drained from the mortal realm.

 

All the rivalries and hatred she once held for so many had vanished in a blink of an eye. The pain and constant hunger no longer holding to her as she herself found the bitter sweet embrace of death to her liking as it was finally over. Stella Evaglno had finally come to rest after centuries of walking the mortal realm.

 

..Peace is the last thing to pass through her mind..

((So yeah, finally PK’ing a character that I’ve roleplayed for three years now. Guess it’s time to focus on a new main character now and all. o7))

[Angmarzku 1251]

One of the being's kinsmen glances about once the husk meets the ground, it'd hum in thought distressed. Alas, it'd not be fully aware of the devastating news.

                                   "Where are my brothers and sisters..."

[Guest]

Somewhere, Gareth Hawthorne cringes. A sensation akin to the one he felt when Pherak dies rattles him to his core as he slumps back into the seat.
"Ashes..."
He murmurs softly, his hands slipping down to grip the edge of the table.
 

[Swgrclan 2682]

An old soul feels the dispersal of false life the moment it's coil collided with the cold, harsh earth. He sat alone, in his Abyss.

"Another, unworthy of Dragons."

[Dakirennis 959]

Dak'ir sat on the floor of his home, a haze of smoke clouding around his head as he takes a drag from his pipe. His finger tapped against it idly as he thought aloud. 

 

"I wonder how my dear cousin is..."

[Geo 1415]

As he stomped deep into the snow with an iron clad boot clenched around each foot with every stride forth into the terrific white north, the bearded man; whose beard frayed whiter than the blistering crisp cold beneath, had to stop for a breath.  He inhales inward, slowly and accurately and in a very practiced manner pushes his hands outwards, and shutting his eyes. 
 

The prickling thorny gales quickly obeyed, and dispersed.

 

Upon his bottom the old sorcerer began to write in his journal (perhaps by mere coincidence or instead the snapping of another of the loose tethers of his covenant) about the thoughts prodding at his concentration.

 

"The further I climb towards the northward stars and the fell kingdom of yore, the more I wonder how many of my brothers will be still be on this earth to greet me whence I return.  As the numbers of our grand protectorate dwindle, the more my mind struggles to ward off the temptations of chaos, of the gods."

 

"Will there be any, at all, to see my return?"  He sets the book down upon the snow finally feeling a faint sadness, only but a fraction of the real sorrow that awaits him when he finds out that dear little Stella had perished.

[Wendigo 786]

Moved to the Archive. If you feel this is a mistake, please contact myself or any FM and we'll restore it.