[The Crow's Nest]

THE LOOTERS
[ Event ]

Storm: 2'10" 100lbs. Grey w/ white flecks. Male.
Copper: 2'5" 85lbs. Brown dappled fur. Female.
Titan: 3'1" 150lbs. Beige and white brindle. Male.

The three found themselves coiled around the tree trunks, their satchels ready to burst but their appetites far from sated.

It seemed, however, that time was no longer on their side. Storm grumbled, his dark grey pelt a shadow in the dimming light of the tropical sunset. Glaring over at Copper and Titan, he scowled, "We shoulda fuckin' left when them fuckers first arrived, I done told ya." They'd been in hiding for weeks now, plucking what goods they could while still remaining undercover, but their scents couldn't stay hidden anymore. They were being tracked. "Now we're done fucked." Deep, seething hisses.

Copper watched as her grey companion paced around the palm tree, her silver white eyes glaring with heavy judgement and little patience as she lay under some giant plant, its leaves acting as a canopy for her. With her own satchels neatly tucked beneath her belly, she found little reason to move - such trust between business partners. "So you've said before, Storm. We will just wait until nightfall and make our move the--"

"Get yer head outta the sand and calm your damn teats, Storm!" Titan had never been one to be coy, and his pale, brindled form had little hope of camouflage in these dense jungles. He, too, hovered over his goods like a mother over her new babe, though with his size he was confident enough to take a step here or there to show Storm he meant business. For days that fucking bastard had been running his mouth, and it all but drove Titan running off the cliff. "Chick here's got a plan, we gonna stick to it!" He noticed a small nod from Copper, though her eyes shot daggers. Like he could care. With a huff and a puff he sat back down by his goods, hiding in the shadows of the cluster of palms.

They were determined to run out the clock...

... but it seemed they would meet their new neighbors sooner than expected. Copper was the one to notice, her thin ears pricking up at the sound of someone's approach. The grey male was too busy muttering to himself, pacing, to realize. Titan only noticed through the dappled girl, his gaze slowly shifting. Someone was coming... but from which direction?

Two of the three were prepared to flee, goods in tow.

What Is Happening? Our first Event! This is an optional event for all Tortugans to participate in, if they so desire. There are three timber wolves camped in the southern region of our domain - they were looters before we got here, and have been hiding out since our arrival. Their intent is to gather as many treasures as they can and sneak out, but we won't let them! Here Tortuga must rally together to chase down - and potentially kill - these trespassers. The Triarchy has placed a bounty of 10 strips on their heads! How Will This Work? The Crow's Nest account will act as the NPCs for this Event. We will post as the three timber wolves, Copper, Titan, and Storm and interact with those who come. The first round will establish the posting order. Each round lasts 12 days, with extensions available upon request. We're aiming for maybe three to four rounds, but we'll see how it ICly plays out. As this is optional, if you miss a round there is no punishment, though those who participate more are more prone to better prizes and earn more strips. What Do I Get? All participants will receive five (5) strips per round that can be used at the Marketplace - once we set it up, oops. From the Marketplace you can buy trinkets, tools, favors, and services. At the end of the Event, via a random number generator, each participant will receive random supplemental prizes. ICly, these will be considered spoils that the looters drop as they either make their escape or meet their demise. Potential loot includes:    A map with the location of a narwhal skull    A map to an inland, unexplored bioluminescent cave.    One crocodile skin    One small pouch of precious gems    One small pouch of precious shells and pearls    One hellbird skull - a giant raptor    An exotic array of feather plumes More loot will be added if necessary. Those who participate in more rounds will be subject to more goodies from the Triarchy.

[Rove]

Rove had been smelling something all day. Vaguely Tortugan, yet not, as if it was fading. Unfamiliar and familiar all at once. It left her uneasy. Weaving through a thicket, heading for the borders once more, she'd picked up on it. The scent of three distinct wolves. Or, well. She thought there were three. Rove had decided to follow the trail, careful and quiet. Only upon finding them would she cry intruder and lash out in all her unbridled glee, her body quivering beneath her fur at the idea.

Find them she did, hissing and spatting amongst themselves, satchels full of treasures. She stayed quiet, using her dark fur to mask her presence, dipping under the brush. It seemed she'd been a little too loud however, as the smallest one--female, clutching Tortuga's pearls like she owned them-- was alerted. The largest soon joined her, the two of them all muscles and flight, while the middle one muttered and paced like a lunatic. Rove had to make a quick decision, if she leapt at one of the two ready to go, there would certainly be a fight. She could use her massive size to pin the smallest and call for her pack, or she could take down the one who wasn't paying attention.

She made up her mind quickly, leaping from the brush at the muttering one, cackling madly.

"LOOTERS!"

With her momentum, she attempted to shove him over and pin him under her paws, if not her sheer weight, aiming to place a heavy paw over his snout and keep him muzzled. If she missed, she would snap at him, aiming for the scruff of his neck to yank him back, hard. Another attempt would be made then, to bowl him over once more and send him reeling hard into one of the trunks. Teeth would catch and snag upon his throat and she would hold him there.

Oh, no, he wasn't going anywhere.

No matter the outcome, she would stand, teeth bared in a wild grin at the pair. Memorizing their coats, their faces. Oh, she would have fun hunting them down.

[Nyx~]

She may have joined this ragtag group of pirates as they found themselves migrating to new lands, but she still felt ever the stranger. This island and its inhabitants were supposed to be the key for the princess's revival, to find herself out in world and shape who she was meant to be, regardless of those who held her back. She was independent now, truly, forging her own identity in a world entirely unknown to her. As much as she tried to deny it, though, she still felt the need to be praised, to be acknowledged as someone better than those around her. It seemed the only solution at this point was to give these scoundrels something to admire about her, to prove to their filthy asses that Nyx was here and ready for their worship. Idle wanderings on the southern island left her within perfect range to hear the call to arms, her ears perking up to catch the direction from which it came. Looters. Limbs flashed into action as the Sailor sprung into the dense leaves and vegetation, exiting the other side to see one of the Watchmen flying towards someone she had not seen, nor did they smell particularly of this pack. As the brown and orange Tortugan aimed for the one male who was standing around like a dumbass, Nyx scoffed and hurried past the two, knowing the true threat lay with those who could flee. Her bold red sights were settled on the larger, brindled male, chasing after him with a stern and fervent determination. No savage growls came from her throat, just the silent, threatening pursuit of cold justice on a filthy criminal. It didn't take long for the bastard to notice his tail, and as he tried to dip this way or lunge that way, Nyx followed hot on his heels, refusing to be thrown off by so petty a fool. Paws pounded beneath her as the Sailor went in for a quick, vicious lunge to Titan's left side, hoping her sudden move might shake and startle him so that her follow-up - a charge directly into his side - would successfully bowl him over. If able she'd tackle and pin, swiping quick nips and bites at his limbs to encourage his sloppy demise. If she failed? Well, that wasn't really an option. But the night princess did not succumb to defeat, and would let loose a flurry of snapping fangs in the direction of the bastard. Today would be the day these Tortugans would remember as the first of Nyx's endless victories. They would remember her.

text: #be3920

[Batzorig]

    He doesn't come for the glory, for compensation or even some sense of duty: he comes because someone called for help. Batzorig doesn't think what is expected of him as a Gunner, or whether conflict in Tortuga may sometimes best be left to sort itself, because he only thinks to help. Afternoon found him patrolling beaches and cliffsides-- not inner jungles as a Watchman would, because far be it from Batzorig to put himself in a position where speaking may be necessary-- but to clear his head, keep the peace, and honestly stay as far away from everyone else as he can.
    How unfortunate, trespassers ruining such a perfectly placid walk. Still, he goes: one wolf bowls over another ambushed, while a second chases two through the brush, and Batzorig breaks into a sprint, hoping to head off the one that's escaped. Nyx on the largest, Rove locked in a scuffle with Storm, and that leaves the female for the lion. She had just evaded Nyx's pursuit, too, only to find a five-foot feline heading her off.
    A prowling lion is a heart-sinking sight, especially where one had not expected to see such a thing. Batzorig stands proud, with his body stretched out across the path, low to the ground, prepared to pounce. Really, the intention is to send the wolf scuttering back towards the others, back inland, where the rest of the pack resides, the direction they will be arriving from, eager for a fight and to claim for their own what the looters had stolen.
    If, for whatever suicidal reason, she decided to launch at him, the male will defend himself, aim to incapacitate, and let someone with a rank above the Hull decide what to be done about them. He's just a peacekeeper.

[Richter]

"LOOTERS!"

He heard the call from the beach, and immediately felt a wave of vexation. Looters? On his island? It was apparently more likely than he had thought. No one would have dared, months ago, years ago even, but evidently their once mighty kingdom had fallen. With a sigh of tired exasperation, Richter pulled a lit torch from his fire and set off in the direction of the call. He ran, guessing at where the chase might spit out, and listened for more telltale signs of pursuit over the cackling flame next to his face.

As he came upon the sounds of multiple wolves crashing through the jungle, he paused for a moment to take stock of the situation. There appeared to be three looters, and three Tortugans already finding their dance partners. Richter grinned, a twisted smile around his bared torch, and darted in an arc towards the two looters attempting to escape. There was only one way off this island that didn't involve going for a swim, and what better barrier than a wolfdog with a flaming stick?

It seemed the lion had much the same idea, spreading himself out in front of the female looter. Richter took up position in front of the brown female looter as well, with just enough distance between him and the lion that she might think about attempting to escape between them. He didn't particularly want her to try - the acrid smell of scorched fur and flesh was something he'd had enough of, frankly - but if she did, she'd be courting attacks from not one but two Tortugans. Almost an ambush, without the surprise.

Looters, he scoffed to himself. What a time we live in.

[Vadish]

V A D I S H

"Defend your pack, defend your honor."

actions - “speech” - thoughts

 The hellion hummed to himself, he had been winding his way across the pack lands in search of new wares to add to his growing collection. So far his search had been unsuccessful, yet his nose had locked onto a strange scent and he grew excited, wondering if this could be the fabulous stench of a new herbal remedy. As he picked up pace, a bellowing howl came from the area he was heading towards.

"LOOTERS!"

Spotted blue ears perked and the large hellion bolted his way towards the cry of his pack mate. Slashing through the vegetation, he hummed his tune with growing ferocity. Like a war song rallying troops. Looters in Tortuga? Now that was ironic! The male grinned cheekily to himself as he came crashing over the final bush and into the unfolding scene. The commotion had already attracted a handful of his pack mates. The quick eyes of the surgeon darted around to absorb the situation. Long tail twitched and Vadish gave out a snarl, fueled by adrenaline and pinging on some white powdery substance he had been testing early that day. He was ready to defend his pack, tend to the wounded and interrogate the trespassers.

"Get into 'em lads! We'll show these outsiders what happens when ye' try to steal from pirates!"

He made mental note of the pack members who were helping to bundle up the looters. As a phantom, those who had come to aid had gained points in his mind and ranking of trustworthiness. Jumping into action, he spread his body out in an effort to fill the remaining gap, attempting to block any from potentially escaping. He puffed his fur and body up, raising his enlarged tail and ears - bearing over grown fangs in a snarl as blood red eyes stared down the looters.

"Come and let me cure what ails ya'.."

He hissed the phrase menacingly at the looters. If they dared to cross fangs with the hellion, it would be to their own demise. The blue and white beast towered above them, and stood taller than the largest in the offending trio. Out numbered, out gunned and out ranked. These looters would know the true meaning of what it meant to mess with Tortuga.
 

coding © vixxie's codes | edits © Nadia

[The Crow's Nest]

THE LOOTERS
[ Event ]

Storm: 2'10" 100lbs. Grey w/ white flecks. Male.
Copper: 2'5" 85lbs. Brown dappled fur. Female.
Titan: 3'1" 150lbs. Beige and white brindle. Male.

"LOOTERS!"

It was enough to send their hearts racing, adrenaline pumping into their veins almost instantaneously, as the echo boomed through the territory. It was terrifyingly close. While Storm had been so distracted that this call simply brought him to attention, Titan and Copper had darted into the foliage immediately. Their trio's companionship was at an end - it was every wolf for themself now.

Storm noticed only two late that his comrades had abandoned him, their riches taken with them. In a moment of panic, he glanced around in a frenzy trying to locate his own so as to also leave, but by the time he saw his satchel tucked under some leaning boulder, a massive beast broke through the foliage, her wild eyes focused on him. A yelp of terror as he scattered into the weeds, desperate to evade the locals and their fangs. Jaws snapped and nipped at his heels as he broke away, and for a split second he thought he was free. He let out a chuckle of relief too soon, and felt the sharp pain of teeth against flesh, his tail snagged half-way down and promptly torn off.

In a mad scramble he blundered and continued to flee, wretched sobs now where his laughter had been only mere seconds ago.

--

Titan had left the fool behind to perish and felt no shame over it - their partnership demanded no hero's sacrifice. It was simply for the money. He couldn't cash in when he was dead. While the female had taken to approach their land-bridge escape from the eastern point, Titan had moved so as to approach from its western ridges, hoping their distance would throw off their pursuers. Much to his frustration, a black and grey and white female soon came up behind him, almost rabid in her pursuit. At first he leapt this way or that, but she kept in tow. Growling fiercely under his breath, he glared through his peripheries as she came up to his five o'clock. He knew what she was doing...

The moment she lunged in to try and knock into him, the brute whirled around and turned his fangs upon her, leaving his satchel for the dust if it meant he could live. Meeting her shove head on, he sent them both into a tumble, and hoped his ferocity would catch her off-guard. Snapping fangs and swiftly kicking his rear legs, stunning her was his goal, perhaps even knocking her head around a bit. All he wanted was to stop her so he could continue. If he successfully managed to stun the bitch, he'd turn tail and bound off, aiming for the land bridge with a dangerous desperation. No one would be stopping him today.

--

Copper had left instantly, hearing the danger before it had announced itself, and made for the quickest route off the islands. As the smallest, and with her satchel held in her mouth, there was no reason for her to risk staying one millisecond longer than necessary. She was at the obvious disadvantage. And yet, much to her luck, she ended up with not a pursuer, but a fucking lion acting as a barrier. She would not panic, that was beneath her. Keeping her cool, the fox-like girl dove for the thickest part of the jungle vegetation, while still trying to pursue her southerly course.

If luck stayed on her side, the lion would not be able to find any way into the thick, difficult-to-maneuver vines and tangled trees that she chose as her diversion. If, for whatever reason, he dared to plunge into the depths, she'd have no choice but to leap out of his path for damage, heading for the open clearing as quickly as possible. Heading south. Heading.... into the fire.  Bright eyes widened in momentary terror at the sight of that wolf wielding flames. The satchel almost slipped from her fang. The fuck kind of monsters lived here? Turning around quickly, Copper plunged into the thickets, trying to find the darkest shadows under which she could hide and recollect her planning. Through bitter eyes she'd stare down the two locals, the ones who blocked her way.

A shallow, gurgling growl.

THE STATS STORM: Fleeing Rove, heading back inland/north. Dodged the barrel move, but lost half his tail to her snapping jaws. Satchel still in tow, wrapped around his neck. COPPER: Heading south, fled into the thick vegetation upon seeing Batzorig. Was trying to move out and around him, saw Richter, and went back into the thickets to figure out her next move. Satchel still in tow, held in her mouth. TITAN: Heading south, was fleeing Nyx. Countered her lunge with at barrel move, aiming to knock her down/confuse her. Lost his satchel while fleeing.

[Batzorig]

    He doesn't need to chase her-- not outright. She changes path to avoid him, and Richter practically handles the rest. Batzorig's feet do tangle in the vines he traverses, but not badly, as he's in no rush. She could certainly have outrun the lion, if it weren't for the brilliant tactics of other Tortugans, and the primal fear of flame.
    "C'mon, missy," he announces, scanning the brush he slogs through, gradually narrowing the gap between himself and the Wielder, the space she has to hide-- "it's best if you come with me, now." Not just for his own ease, or the recognition of capturing one-- he doesn't care. He stops for a single moment, ears swiveling to search her out, and eyes falling on Richter and his torch. "I don't want to know what he'll do to get you out of there." Or what they'll do after.

[Vadish]

V A D I S H

"Your death will be slow & painful."

actions - “speech” - thoughts

Watching the chaos and carnage unfold had filled the blue and white hellion with a sense of glee and euphoria. Limbs scattered, voices cried out and his pack mates gave chase to the unwanted visitors. Nostrils flared and over-sized ears perked forward as he locked onto his target and bounded after the largest of the three who was fleeing towards the bridge.

The hellion used the length of his legs and the balance of his tail to sprint his way swiftly around to the intruders right. Running at full pelt, Vadish managed to pass the brindled male as he was preoccupied scuffling with the monochrome female. Red eyes glanced back in time to watch as the intruders loot fell to the dust and the now desperate creature thrashed violently aagainst his female pursuer.  

Enraged at the disregard the brute had shown for a fellow member, Vadish spun on his heel - jamming his bulking body across the land bridge and blocking the brindled males path of escape. Fur and tail raised menacingly as the hellion bared his over length fangs - hissing and spitting as eyes flashed an demonic red. He met the escapee head on - claws out and snapping as he aimed to pin and maul - to tear flesh and muscle from vital ligaments.

His studies of anatomy had paid off, every blow that landed was calculated to disable the opponent and render them motionless. His training as a phantom ensured he would not miss, a deadly stealth and ingrained duty to defend his loyal members at any cost. The damage to his own flesh was irrelevant, this brute would pay for crossing Tortuga and it's crew.
 

coding © vixxie's codes | edits © Nadia