Warrior Clan Cats
The future's in your paws. Shape it well.Roleplay in a cat Clan of warriors. Based off the Warriors series by Erin Hunter. Takes place in an AU before the cats in the books existed.
Welcome to WCC! Here are our latest announcements:
The Clans are being greeted by silence from their ancestors, unless StarClan is voicing their fury. With the anger of the stars against them, how will the cats of the clans fare as newleaf reclaims the area?
Activity checks take place on the 1st of the month. This month's activity check has been completed and closed. If you missed it, please PM a staff member with the filled form for each of your characters.
Newleaf is steadily returning to the forest, the flowers, grasses, and trees blooming with life once more. After the flood of last Newleaf, the heavy rains seem more threatening to the clans older members, but as prey and herbs slowly return there seems to be a fragile sense of peace. What challenges will Newleaf hold for the clan cats?
Gatherings take place on the 1st of the month; keep your eyes out for a staff member's post!
Make sure to check your Clan's Key Events under the Clan Information boards to see what's happening in your Clan!
Please feel free to hit up any staff member if you have any questions!
The Winds of Winter [PLOT FINALE]
Characters : (P)Petalpaw (B)Barkkit (S)Sunkit
Number of posts : 3344
Age : 14
Clan/Rank : ShadowClan
|Subject: Re: The Winds of Winter [PLOT FINALE] Thu Nov 08, 2018 4:39 pm|| |
Nectarleap attacks Lichenmask.
Swoopnose attacks Lichenmask.
Nutfur runs over to dead Flamewish, in too much shock to fight Hillfire.
Nectarleap used Rear-Up to Slash and Swift Strike on Lichenmask, dealing 24 damage and costing 25 stamina.
Swoopnose used Back Kick on Lichenmask, dealing 15 damage and costing 15 stamina.
Petalpaw - Barkkit - Sunpaw
ShadowClan - ThunderClan - WindClan
Apprentice - Kit - Apprentice
Number of posts : 4395
Age : 22
|Subject: Re: The Winds of Winter [PLOT FINALE] Thu Nov 08, 2018 5:59 pm|| |
Blow after blow, more specks of darkened scarlet blood scattered against the disturbed earth. They splattered against his soft fur, slicking it down in places and making it look all the more disorderly and ruffled. Sparkpaw had only bounded away for a moment as he waited to get in another attack. With so many cats after the same opponent, it was difficult to land a blow without harming the others. He was careful, unintentionally so. But as the apprentice created distance from himself and the opposing cat, his clanmate was thrown to the ground and he watched helplessly as claws slid into her throat. Sparkpaw froze momentarily, swallowing a lump of ice that he had not noticed seemed to stick in his throat and made his breath stop. Flamewish's eyes dulled as she stared up at Hillfire. A Riverclan cat slain by one who had once been considered their clanmate.
It was in that moment that everything seemed to come into focus. The world became real. Everything that had happened before had merely been nothing more than a dream. But this, this was a reality. His eyes darted around to take in the patches of roughly torn fur that lay in menial scraps on the ground. Everything was coated in the sticky substance that flowed through the pelts of all cats. Then, he realized how fragile the lives of all his kin and his clanmates were. A few well-placed claws or gnashing teeth could rip a cat of their precious place in this world. And Hillfire had stripped Flamewish of that. How easily could he take Galepaw, or Berrypaw, or Ivypaw? Sparkpaw would not allow that to happen. Determination fired through him. Not quite a sense of revenge, nor even any ill will to the tom who had just taken the ginger she-cat's life. What would happen next was simply driven on by the knowledge that if he didn't do this then there was no saying what would happen.
Kill or be killed. With a brief side glance at Icepaw, he shot forward and slid under Hillfire's stomach once more. But, instead of lashing out with his claws, Sparkpaw forced all his weight upwards in an attempt to knock the weakened tom off his paws. Only seconds earlier, something he had missed in his frozen state from watching Flamewish's death, the Skyclan leader had dashed in with his own attack and left the enemy cat in a weakened state. It almost shocked him that he was able to cause the much more experienced warrior to stumble. As he slid out on the other side, Sparkpaw could hear himself wildly calling to his denmate, "Pin him down! Pin him down!"
Deep within the back of his mind, the thought flitted around that Icepaw was this cat's son. There was no way he would force his clanmate to face this alone. He had to do this. Utilizing every ounce of speed and strength he possessed, the dilute calico launched himself forward and onto the fallen frame. His paws landed squarely on each side of the older cat's shoulders as he struggled beneath him. Only when Icepaw had joined in the effort was he able to manage a solid position. A mere mouselength from his maw was the pulsating soft flesh of Hillfire's throat. Sparkpaw swallowed back the ice and let out a low breath, "I'm sorry. I can't let you live. I can't let you hurt anyone anymore." For the first time in his short life, the young apprentice's teeth were bared under the light of the bleeding sky. They sunk deep into the soft flesh and the tangy taste of blood, scarily close to the feeling of sinking into prey, filled his mouth and flowed out into his paws. With each pounding of Hillfire's frantice heart as it tried to continue beating, more of the precious blood flowed out onto the earth. His eyes were filled with nothing but the sight of the crimson tide. And then it was over.
Sparkpaw used Killing Bite on Hillfire, using 10 stamina. Hillfire was relieved of the pressure of life.
The Ghost of Ripped's Past
Last edited by Ripped Leafas on Fri Nov 09, 2018 10:47 am; edited 1 time in total
Number of posts : 2832
Age : 20
|Subject: Re: The Winds of Winter [PLOT FINALE] Thu Nov 08, 2018 7:02 pm|| |
"Your incessant shrill shrieking vexes me," The sharp irritation that resonated within Lichenmask's silky voice was hardly implicit, cold disgust simmering blatantly within the venomous response, "With a voice such as that, you'd do well to learn to hold your tongue. It was bold of you to assume that I'd even care for what meaningless words escape that dreadful little mouth of yours, anyways." The brainless Apprentice that brazenly came scrabbling over the edge of the Great Rock like a fool was immediately sent tumbling back into the ravaged clearing- smashing directly into Gladepaw, sending both young cats sprawling limply into the dirt from the sheer force of the collision. All those who foolishly attempted to leap up the face of the Great Rock met a gruesomely similar fate, sending scattering into the wind by the unseen force that seemingly emanated from deep within the young Exile. Hardly even flinching as several cats were launched into the flames, the menacing trunks of the ancient oaks, and into the smokey darkness, the dark-tabby rounded upon the one cat who remained atop the bloodied stone. Were they all this utterly stupid? Perhaps continuously breeding with their cousins from different Clans had robbed them of the most basic-decision making abilities. If every other cat who had gone against him had failed miserably within mere moments, what made them think that they would be any different? It wasn't as if any of them were special, important, or blessed enough to go up against the likes of him and survive longer than a single heartbeat or so. Scorchfang had been spared the initial agony of getting tossed aside like the others, but that didn't mean Lichenmask was prepared to offer mercy.
It was truly irritating how dumb these cats were. We could never kill the innocent, they had cried before promptly spilling the blood of those innocent saved from affiliating with a cause. Exhaustion bred prevalent irritation, fueled by the incessant need to just be done with it all. Perhaps it would just be easier to kill every last cat who stood here upon this night- but then again, it was becoming more and more obvious that Sparrowleaf would rather take her time, so what was it to take a little time? As desperately as he longed for the inevitable expiration date that hung heavily over his head, why shouldn't he enjoy himself? It was his one instance of freedom, it'd be a proper shame to not make the most of his lacking restrictions. "Killing Littlestar was a joy," He snarled, voice wrathful, "But it'll be nothing compared to killing you and those miserable little wretches you sired, those you are so very incapable of protecting. I should hope that they scream and beg for mercy, it was a pity I killed Littlestar so quickly that I couldn't enjoy myself." With a sudden jolt of his head, Scorchfang was dragged away from him, slung outwards to the flames that had incited such damage and chaos.
Rounding upon the few cats who still stood in the clearing, Lichenmask's voice rose into a chilling yowl, "Since you all seem so very desperate for me to stick around, I shall indulge you. I'm ready for a real challenge anyways." Outline wavering under the intense heat that drifted upwards, his dark pelt shimmered within the ruddy red light of the flames.
Lichenmask used StarClan's Wrath, Dealing UNKNOWN Damage & Costing UNKNOWN Stamina.
Former Site Administrator
currently confined to a nursing home for being senile
Characters : Pansyface, Leopardclaw(star), Finchstream, Ryeheart, Laurelsong, Night of Stormy Gales, Fernpetal, Aspenpaw, Magpiepaw, Chirp of Cricket at Sunset, Leopardpaw
Number of posts : 3233
Age : 19
Clan/Rank : Starseeker
|Subject: Re: The Winds of Winter [PLOT FINALE] Thu Nov 08, 2018 7:42 pm|| |
The last movement Aspenpaw ever made was to extend his crazed smile even wider, his bloodsoaked face shining in the dying light as he felt teeth connect with his throat in a painful blow he would never return from. He though was numb. The sweet sensation of utmost victory blocked the pain until he was no longer able to feel anything, and he lay in a puddle of his own blood on the grassy ground. In his last moments of vision before his remaining eye finally succumbed to the darkness, he saw a flash of golden fur. Oh...he's going after his daughter...how sweet...
I hope I'll see you again someday Leopardstar....you still have more lives to lose......
When Dustcloud walked away, all that remained of one the once calm-minded tom was a form twisted with insanity and soaked with blood, his last words proving true, a deranged smile remained etched onto his scarred face forevermore.
Fernpetal had no time to react before her consciousness failed and her body was launched across the clearing, where she lay, bruised and silent.
For a moment, Leopardstar wanted to protest to stay with his daughter, but he knew that Goldeneye was right; he needed to put his clan first. His hazel eyes betraying an odd level of emotion that the reserved tom usually didn't allow to show around rival cats, he nodded ever so faintly before dashing back into the fray, trying to keep the shacking in his legs to a minimum. He needed to be strong...for them. Looking around, he realized that all of the exiles and rogues had finally fallen...but there was still one opponent. Lichenmask. The tom had already sent about a dozen cats sprawling across the clearing, including Jaystar and Scorchfang, but he knew that this was the moment of fate. Somehow, someway, they needed to take him down...and they didn't have time to wait around. A low, threatening growl rose from deep within the leader's chest as he began to streak across the clearing, leaping over the flames that had once killed him, and landed on top of the Great Rock once again, face to face with the spawn of the Dark Forest himself. "You will not win this war! You will never take my family or clan from me, and I will never be ashamed of the blood that runs through my veins! It is you who will be shamed by history, and everyone will know you as just another cat tricked by his own desires!"
As his claws connected with the tom's face, a slight smirk crept onto his face. "You should've remembered your lessons from kithood Lichenmask; snitches get stitches."
Leopardstar used Front paws strike on Lichenmask, dealing 19 damage and costing 25 stamina
Number of posts : 2832
Age : 20
|Subject: Re: The Winds of Winter [PLOT FINALE] Thu Nov 08, 2018 9:37 pm|| |
Brindlestar had remained before the flames for quite a long time, features illuminated by the terrible sparks that had been returned to her. Screams fell to moans, moans died down into faint whimpers, whimpers lapsed into silence. Flesh fell away to ash, bones and tendons buckling beneath the intense heat of the vivid flames, until nothing recognizable remained. The terrible violence that raged all around her, the godly abilities displayed by Lichenmask did not stir her- not even the realization that her Clanmates were inevitably wounded could breath movement into her system. Her gaze merely remained fixated upon where Fallowpaw had vanished, a terrible emptiness roaring within her chest. How could.. she not feel anything? It was like that fiendish craving for blood as retribution for what had happened upon this eve had robbed her of everything, leaving nothing but an unseen wound that blossomed deep within the fathoms of her blood-speckled chest. Thornleap's enraged shrieking strangely stirred her from the peculiar trance, forcing her gaze to drift away from where the dead molly's remains blistered. It took several agonizingly long heartbeats for her to find the young tom, her gaze only truly connecting with his during the very last moment. The latest display of carnage did not faze her, nor did it stir any inklings of remaining emotions that stubbornly resided within her frigid heart. It was almost as if her heart had hardened from porcelain, to ivory, and inevitably to steel.
Movements sluggish, often nearly derailed entirely by stumbling over the occasional corpse or so, it took quite a while for Brindlestar to make her way towards where the grey tom had vanished beneath the storm of flashing claws and fangs. Even as Lichenmask sent countless cats crashing into the earth all around them, beckoning forth a challenge, she did not break away from her current path. Peering down at the snarl that permanently graced her former Clanmates features, the pale molly dropped into a half crouch beside Thornleap's body. Head bowing forward in a seething mixture of white-hot emotion, Brindlestar paid little to no mind to the storm of sparks that drifted heavily atop the stagnant air as she hunched beside the dead Exile, caring not for those who witnessed this act.
Was the tightness within her throat from rage or giref?
Brindlestar is unwilling to continue battling!
Former Site Administrator
currently confined to a nursing home for being senile
Characters : Grousefrost ♂ | Oakstar ♂ | Nightpaw ♂
Number of posts : 2279
Age : 30
|Subject: Re: The Winds of Winter [PLOT FINALE] Thu Nov 08, 2018 9:43 pm|| |
THUD. The sound of another body falling to the ground. Followed swiftly by several more. Marshstorm wished he could keep his close protective vigil to his mate. He lifted his head, gazing on her battered body before he licked at her cheek gently. His breaths came out in deep choking breaths.
"I love you..." He murmured, then gently grabbed her by the scruff and pulled her further away from the flames. Every bump, branch and stone he could see he carefully avoided in an attempt to avoid hurting her further until she was at the edge of the clearing. Then, with his chest aching, he pulled away to look back at the chaos. Plenty of cats lay injured, dying or dead on the forest floor. He could see Leopardstar, the golden leader was fighting valiantly at Lichenmask.
He felt a weight on his chest like a heavy blanket. Swallowing with a throat the felt like it was filled with glass as he padded to an unconcious cat that was nearest to the flames. Carefully, he grabbed it's scruff and began the arduous journey of pulling it away from the flames. There was no sense in further death. The tom on the rock... something was clearly wrong. Why wasn't StarClan helping them? What did this Dark Forest cat do?
It didn't matter, he supposed. He hauled the cat to the edge of the clearing before going back for another. No matter his gripe with any of the clans, he would help any cat he could see to get them out of the flames.
Grousefrost♂ Nightpaw ♂ Oakstar♂
WindClan Warrior (3) | ShadowClan Apprentice | ThunderClan Leader
60/200 20/80 120/300
My CharactersNever be afraid to contact me with questions, concerns or nudges. Nudge Cays Here
Number of posts : 3663
Age : 20
Clan/Rank : Riverclan
|Subject: Re: The Winds of Winter [PLOT FINALE] Thu Nov 08, 2018 10:05 pm|| |
Silverfang watched with horror how that warrior who was once the young, naive apprentice she trained turned into this atrocity. These unnatural powers... they only belonged to Starclan or the Dark Forest. What if it was the first option? What if this was really a punishment from Starclan? Did they really want them all dead? The stubborn RiverClanner couldn't believe. It was nonsense for a she-cat like her that had devoted her life to the clans and the stars to think that they would do this to them.
No... it didn't matter where these powers came from. She made a promise to her clan the day she became a warrior and now it was time to do something to pay for all the wrongs she had caused to the clans for training Lichenmask, even if she couldn't kill him before he threw her out.
The scarred warrior ran to the leader of this madness, claws unsheathed leaving a trail of cut grass behind. In the last second, she leapt, her front legs extended as she let a furious, filled with pain, yowl. "For Riverclan!" She launched herself on his body, trying to reach his throat or to at least knock him a little. Letting out a snarl before he could anything to attack her back, she hissed one more time, spitting some words. "You're a disgrace to the Warrior Code... my disgrace and is time for you to be stopped. I won't let you destroy everything I love... even if it means that I have to kill my own apprentice."
Silverfang used Jumping Strike, dealing 15 damage and costing 20 stamina.
°Brookkit° of Riverclan | °Rainkit° of Shadowclan
Tom/ RC kit | Tom/ SC kit
Number of posts : 4395
Age : 22
|Subject: Re: The Winds of Winter [PLOT FINALE] Thu Nov 08, 2018 10:27 pm|| |
For a moment, his pale green stare could not be torn away from Hillfire. Rivers of red lapped hungrily at his paws as the former Riverclan cat bled out onto the ground below. Quickly the sticky substance soaked the fur around his pads. Sparkpaw simply watched for a moment. A slow blink disrupted the moment and he finally glanced back at Icepaw with a slow exhale of breath. With another flutter of his eyelids, the tom stepped back off the cat he had just killed. He shooked his head slightly, spraying droplets from his maw and onto the other apprentice's fur. His tongue ran over his muzzle and teeth trying in vain to dismiss the salty tang that clung to desperately to his face. It was an odd sensation, odd taste, and even more concerning was the thought of the moment. In his youth, Sparkpaw had experienced few things. And already it was his paws responsible for the death of another.
The deadened eyes of Hillfire alongside his expression were nearly haunting. But the gravity of the moment was lost on the young tom. He felt something, namely confusion, and yet it did not cause any sort of pit to settle within the depths of his stomach. Another blink and his shook out his light calico fur. That was over but there was still another matter at hand. With a quick apologetic look directed at Icepaw, he turned and darted away. A fire ahead caused his eyes to widen. Flames raged around the highrock. Cats were strewn in an unholy mess near the base. Some were singed by the relentless heat. Others merely splayed limply in the center of the clearing. Bodies seemed to be from all clans. Starlord had always said clan ways were silly and he couldn't help but think that now as he realized the only reason they were together was that their normal way of life was threatened. In only a matter of days, they would fight at borders once more.
It was a fleeting thought, one that only ran through Sparkpaw's mind for less than a moment. His eyes caught on the body of Jaystar. A sense of grief constricted his chest as he saw the great leader. That was all he needed to send him sprinting towards the danger. He raced around towards the back and scrambled unceremoniously up the back. Lichenmask didn't look as terrifying as Sparkpaw thought he should for a cat of his caliber. In fact, he looked like a regular cat. And in a way, he was. The mad creature who Leopardstar lashed out it had once been considered a clanmate. That was a strange feeling. But he didn't hesitate to bunch up his hind muscles and spring onto the older cat as a yowl left his throat. It would have been deemed reckless in the eyes of any cat and yet that thought didn't run through his mind. Instead, he barely gave it a thought. His paws wrapped around Lichenmask's back and he dug in his claws enough to keep a solid grip.
The apprentice's body flattened against the exile's as he clung on in a futile attempt to do something when in reality he really had no idea what to do or how to process what had just happened. He had just killed a former Riverclanner, and now, here he was tackling the very cat who had seemingly been given the powers of the stars. It was a lot to process for such an inexperienced apprentice. Sparkpaw wasn't sure what compelled him to speak so freely in battle. But his previous opponents had to listened to him run his mouth in lieu of not quite knowing how to handle what was currently unfolding. Lichenmask would not be spared the same fate. As he straddled the prophet of Starclan, even Sparkpaw was surprised at how easily the words came from his maw, "You don't look half as evil as I thought you would. You just look like a cat. The trick with the fire is pretty neat though. That's different." Realizing that he had spoken that out loud the apprentice let out a snort. Here he was, riding the cat god who had probably murdered his father figure, and those were the words that came out. Why did had he been brought to battle in the first place? Maybe Jaystar could have a lapse in judgement at times.
The Ghost of Ripped's Past
Characters : ~ (R)owankit ~
Number of posts : 576
Age : 16
Clan/Rank : ~ (R) Riverclan Kit ~
|Subject: Re: The Winds of Winter [PLOT FINALE] Thu Nov 08, 2018 10:36 pm|| |
His attacks had failed. He was going to die.
Those were his thoughts when the unseen force that had launched the others away pulled back forcefully on his head, exposing the delicate neck flesh that had been the downfall of many a foe this night. He struggled against it, but the pale deputy was no match for whatever force this was, Starclan's or otherwise. "I did it to protect my clan." He had chosen poorly in killing Brushgaze, but who knows what she and her kits could do. No matter, Starclan would judge her in deciding where she would end up in death. If she truly was just misguided, perhaps she would end up in Starclan.
Suddenly he was lifted from the hard surface of the rock, high into the air. For a moment, he could see everything below him. The clans had defeated the last Exiles, the clans would win. Even if he did not survive his plummet to the Earth below, he'd rest easy knowing that he'd done his duty. He should be more scared, he was young and a newly named deputy. That should induce some form of panic, shouldn't it? No... By instinct he had already flipped over onto his paws, moving towards the ground. Closer and closer. He would land rather close to the flames, hopefully, he wouldn't catch the flames in his long pelt.
THUD. The deputy had landed where he thought he would. He hadn't caught fire at least. It was a searing pain, and then nothing. He was simply unconscious though. He wasn't awake to experience the pain of falling from that high up, it seems he had been thrown higher than the rest. Bones had been broken, anyone close would've heard a horrible crunching sound when he landed.
Froststone has been KOed.
Icepaw watched as Flamewish was murdered in front of him. Her ginger pelt was stained with crimson as she went down. Her eyes were lifeless. A truely horrifying sight. I could've stopped it! It's my father I could've reasoned with him, at least for a moment! The large apprentice suddenly heard Sparkpaw's cry's. Pin his father... He could do that. And a whole lot more. He threw his body weight onto Hillfire, clawing at his eyes and ears. His heterochromatic eyes watched as Sparkpaw killed Hillfire. Shocked, he got off of the white and gray exile, looking to his fellow apprentice.
"Thank you..." His eyes darted to where Lichenmask was throwing warriors off the great rock. "Sparkpaw, I know what you're thinking. It's a very bad idea for you to go after hi-" Of course, Sparkpaw had already run off and was riding the back of Lichenmask like he was getting a ride. "Oh great Starclan he's going to be killed." He breathed this out, almost sighing. WHY HAD SPARKPAW DONE THAT.
Characters : [O]akberry [Os]preykit [W]easelpaw [G]ladepaw, Darkflower, Pumapaw, Hazeflight*, Driftcloud*, Spructhorn*, Hollyshard*, Ospreypaw*, Blurrypaw*, Dapplekit*, Jaguar*
Number of posts : 1627
Age : 15
Clan/Rank : uwu
|Subject: Re: The Winds of Winter [PLOT FINALE] Fri Nov 09, 2018 6:50 am|| |
"I will not hold my tongue, you don't scare me Lichenmask. You never have, and you never will. I will not grant someone as twisted, malicious and, blatantly evil as you, such a pleasure. Get use to disappointment, sweetie." snarled Gladepaw. Her vivid green eyes bore into the tom that sat upon the great rock. Her nostrils flared, flank rising and falling rapidly. "Get down from The Great Rock! Your pelt will make a fine nest liner, once I'm through with you!"
The apprentice paused, waiting for the sadistic tom to join her. Yet, when the tabby didn't join her, her enragement only further grew. Ears flat against her skull, she began to stalk forward into the blazing fire, its tendrils lapping at her skin, and singeing her fur. She paid it no mind, she'd deal with the pain once Lichenmask lay dead at her paws, just like Darkpaw and the rest of his foolish disciples. The white cat, bunched up her haunches, leaping towards The Great Rock, claws outstretched.
She cold see it now, her leering over him, him begging for mercy, mercy that he did not grant the clans. It was a matter o f milliseconds, until that would all be real, but that's when she saw it out the corner of her eye, a body hurtling towards her. "What the-"
The body slammed into her at full force, sending Gladepaw sprawling back into the fire, and across Fourtrees, finally coming to a stop, as she slammed in to the base of one of the towering oaks. Pain shot all through her body, as everything started to go dull, flickering between black and light. "Are you stupid?! I was going to kill Lichenmask... I was going to save all of us, including stupid cats like you..." she hissed through gritted teeth, as her mind finally settled on a world of darkness.
All though, she'd been almost entirely useless in his fight, Darkflower was exhausted. She'd promised herself not to feel anything for such cats, when she'd agreed to leave. Yet, she found her heart aching, as Falcongaze, right on death's door stop, dragged himself towards his mate's corpse. It seemed she was not alone in feeling grief, or pity for these cats-- even Brindlestar seemed to be mourning, although you could never be sure with her. Darkflower's blue eyes raked over the carnage of Fourtrees, corpses littered the ground, and blood was sprayed everywhere, although it was hard to tell anyway, because of the crimson lighting, that she had grown use to.
Her gaze returned to Falcongaze, who was now being carried towards his mate by Elcloud. She smiled softly. Elmcloud was a good cat, one she respected. Darkflower walked across the battlefield, helping any injured clan cats. She nodded her approval as she passed Elmcloud.
She was the only one left. Her friends all slaughtered at the hands of the feral cats, that dared to call themselves warriors. Pumapaw, was injured, but it was nothing major, she could pull through. The russet apprentice, struggled to her paws, shaky at first, but once she got going her steps were strong and determined. Briefly, her eyes drifted to Lichenmask, fighting atop The Great Rock, barely moving a whisker as he sent warrior after warrior flying. Her amber eyes caught sight of white pelt flying through the air, StarClan she hoped it was Hailpaw. Her eyes dropped to a body on the floor, she recognised that face anywhere.
He was dead. They had both been so sure they'd win, mere moments ago. How could they have ben so naive? Pumapaw bent down solemnly, touching her nose to his. "May StarClan light your path friend." she muttered. She closed the tom's only eye, and wen on her way.
The bushes loomed closer with every step, she'd seen them run in and out countless times. She knew that is where the medicine cats, and injured warriors were. She'd kill them all, just like they'd killed her friends, just like they'd killed Aspenpaw. Her steps quickened, spine tingling as she thought of all the ways she could make them suffer. She'd savour every moment.
Despite the fact the bushes were close, Pumapaw was tired, exhausted. Everything ached, and her pace slowed, limp evident. The she-cat began to realise how little she'd slept, and eaten. Her long fur, was matted with her own blood, plastered to her skin. For a moment, she wondered if there was any point doing, what she was going to do. It was just her and Lichenmask against the whole forest, it was a death sentence. If she fled right now, she could live. Start over. Her amber eyes glanced at Lichenmask. No, if she ran he'd hunt her down, and she didn't dare think of StarClan's wrath. She didn't want to be remembered as a coward.
The leaves stuck to her pelt, as she pushed through the curtain of leaves. A small smirk crossed her maw. She'd been right. They were all here. Both medicine cat apprentices, and the RiverClan medicine cat, Goldeneye. They rushed to and fro, helping the poor injured clan cats. For now she hadn't been noticed, but it wouldn't be long until she was, might as well make erself known.
"Excuse me..." hissed Pumapaw "But it isn't it the medicine cat code to help any injured cat? It is such a pity that you can't save them all, let alone yourselves!" A snarl rose up in her throat, as Pumapaw lunged towards Fallowpaw.
Oakberry ~ Darkflower ~ Ospreykit ~ Weaselpaw ~ Gladepaw ~
WindClan ~ SkyClan ~ RiverClan ~ RiverClan ~ ThunderClan ~
Newly Appointed Warrior ~ Young Warrior ~ Kit ~ Apprentice ~ Apprentice ~
Characters : (To)rrentstar; (T)igerleaf; (H)ailpaw; (M)ao
Number of posts : 1465
Clan/Rank : (S)RC deputy, (T)SkC warrior, (C)default rogue, (H)TC apprentice
|Subject: Re: The Winds of Winter [PLOT FINALE] Fri Nov 09, 2018 10:14 am|| |
Towering over the badly wounded Exile, Froststone raised one paw to the sky. Almost as quickly as Hailpaw comprehended what he was going to do, it was done. Claws flashed downwards; in the seconds that followed, blood ebbed from Brushgaze's thorn throat, seeping out unto the hard-packed dirt. Even when he had heard the she-cat's desperate pleas for mercy, Froststone had showed no hesitation. He was a cat entirely fitting of his name. Then again, perhaps they all had hearts of ice. Cold indifference painted Hailpaw's features as she watched the Exile's life finally flicker out. With her very last breath, she screamed out the name of the "Prophet." To the end, she was still thinking of that monster. Hailpaw curled the corners of her maw into a small, disdainful smirk. "Too bad, too sad." Promptly spinning around, she left the Exile's corpse to the flames that were steadily consuming the clearing.
Now, then... Lichenmask stood atop the Great Rock. Against the background of swirling flames and smoke, his silhouette could barely be made out. The rest of his lackeys had been successfully taken care of; it was time for the final boss battle. Before Hailpaw's eyes, warrior after warrior was blown aside, as insignificant as leaves in a squall. His power was not to be underestimated; there was almost no doubt that he had been chosen by StarClan. He was a fascinating picture, one she could hardly take her gaze off. At the thought of going against him, she was suddenly overcome by a deadly chill. "Oh boy, oh boy," She breathed, "what frightful power... I can barely contain myself." While she had been occupied with Pumapaw, the others had been having such fun without her. This wasn't fair. She was so getting in on this.
However, it seemed that StarClan--or rather, Lichenmask-- had other plans for her. From atop the Great Rock, a certain hapless apprentice was violently knocked off. Orchidpaw was sent crashing into Gladepaw, and their two bodies rocketed across the clearing. It only took that one second for Hailpaw to completely snap out of battle-ready mode. What kind of expression must have crossed her face then? Throwing all thought of Lichenmask aside, she bounded towards her prone littermate. "Gladepaw!" A scream tore through the air. For a second, she didn't even recognize it as her own. Her tone painted a completely different picture from her usual arrogant, confident persona. Skidding to a stop by Gladepaw's side, she hardly paid Orchidpaw a glance. Images flashed through her mind, that of Beepaw's waterlogged corpse lying in the middle of the camp. "G--Gladepaw! Wake up, Gladepaw!" Panic all too evident in her bristling pelt, she shook her sister with a paw. Much to her relief, the younger(?) she-cat was alive, just unconscious. "Thank goodness..." Tears welled up within her yellow eyes, threatening to spill out. Her vision blurred dangerously. "Hold on, I--I'll get you to the medicine cats. They'll know what to do." Firmly grasping Gradepaw's scruff in her jaws, she half-hoisted her littermate up. The weight almost caused her to stumble, but she refused to release her grip.
Last edited by Transient on Sun Nov 11, 2018 2:14 am; edited 2 times in total
|Subject: Re: The Winds of Winter [PLOT FINALE] Fri Nov 09, 2018 10:44 am|| |
Goldeneye's ear flicked as she heard wrestling through the bushes, her paws still in her movements as she turned to look at who it was. An Exile, chills ran down her spine as her eyes turned to slits. Murderous intent practically oozed like a sickening sludge down the apprentice, and there were no cats to defend them. She was so stupid! She should have requested a warrior to guard her and her apprentices! Flashbacks seemed to slow down time as she remembered practicing battle moves with her mate, tusselling and learning how to defend herself. Alleycats writhing in front of her, locked in a struggle for the meager scraps before them as she slunked forwards and ran. Pumapaw was lunging for Fallowpaw but she was already moving, her claws unsheathed. She met with her apprentice before the she-cat, slamming the medicine cat apprentice to the side and away, as she reared and met with the apprentice.
Goldeneye with a powerful strike slammed it against the apprentice's head, sending her sprawling. "It may be part of our code, but I will not show mercy to my mistakes!" She screeched, her teeth bared as they sunk into flesh, at first Goldeneye was horrified at what she was doing but at that moment she knew that it was this cats death of her apprentice. Goldeneye adjusted her grip as she crunched into the soft flesh, her mind's eye telling her what harm was coming to the apprentice before her, what she was hitting and how much damage she was causing. Goldeneye continued to tear into muscle tissue and sinew as her teeth sunk into veins and arteries, her bite sloppy and inexperienced as blood spurted into her mouth and against her cheeks and fur.
Goldeneye didn't care if the cats around her looked at how feral and livid she looked, how she tore the cat below her apart like a rabid dog. Goldeneye could feel blows against her face and ear, her face shredding to bits, kicking and scratching weakening as Pumapaw bled to death below her. Once everything stilled Goldeneye released her hold and looked at the carnage that lay waste below her, her chest heaved and rattled as she looked at the apprentice's torn throat, an injury this gruesome one would think Shade or Rockthorn would have caused - she heard the tales - but no, she, a medicine cat had done this. Her tongue swiped over her maw, the taste of copper strong and prominent, her feelings numbing as if she had just eaten poppy seeds.
"I will not treat scum, willing to attack my apprentice, nonetheless a cat blinded by a child who is blinded by the twisted ideals of the stars." Goldeneye snarled blood oozing and dripping from her mouth. Grabbing the apprentice by the leg, she dragged the body from the group of medicine cats at their injured. Once disposed of she padded back, unwilling to meet the gazes of the cats before her except for Fallowpaw. Goldeneye moved as it to comfort her but seemed to decide not to, after all, she was coated with that cat's blood. Numb to her own pain Goldeneye seamlessly went to work on her patients as if nothing happened.
Number of posts : 4395
Age : 22
|Subject: Re: The Winds of Winter [PLOT FINALE] Fri Nov 09, 2018 11:14 am|| |
A bulky mass of tabby fur was sprawled with his several clawed pads outstretched towards the battlefield. Every ounce of his being ached like it never had before. The only sign that Bearpaw still associated with the world of the living was the rise and fall of his torn apart mass. In the past, he had been able to defend himself, to defend others, but this enemy had been far too strong. In the time that the Thunderclan apprentice lay there, he refused to close his eyes but cursed Starclan above for not blessing him with the gift of unconsciousness. Without realizing it, he longed to lose his grasp on reality. What he had to watch so helplessly caused an internal pain far greater than any of the wounds that marred his pelt. But he kept his eyes as open as they would stay under the pressing fight against the desire to close his eyelids.
He watched Gladepaw, valiantly, recklessly face off against Lichenmask who tossed her aside as easily as a cat was crushed under the paws of a monster. Bearpaw struggled to gain his footing and slammed ungracefully into the hard ground. Movement simply wasn't possible right now. And there were other cats that needed the help of the healers far more than himself. Agonizing pain shone through the dullness of his eyes. Much to his relief, Hailpaw appeared at the side of their fallen sister. With a low, pained, exhalation of breath, he realized that the still standing fluffy white she-cat had not a single clawmark on her pelt. Something must have been on her side. Although he longed for nothing more than to race over and help to drag the unconscious frame of Gladepaw to safety, the tabby tom was forced to watch and silently will them on. They moved closer and closer. Away from the impending danger.
Once they were close enough, Bearpaw mustered up the strength to let a low meow rumble from his chest, "Hailpaw... I'm glad you're here." Here. Still standing. He'd had to stop himself from saying safe as the battle was not over yet. Lichenmask stood, as strong as ever.
He'd had little time to focus on the approach of his adoptive sisters before his head tipped to the side towards the sound that came from his left. There was more fighting to be had. One of the exiles, one he had not known to still be there was tearing into the medicine cat. Again he tried to furiously haul himself up onto his paws but to no avail. There was a flash of golden fur as the older medicine cat, Goldeneye, lashed out at the attacking she-cat. It was not surprising, the gory mess that came from Pumapaw as Goldeneye tore into her. Bearpaw was no stranger to blood. It oozed and soaked the ground only a taillength or two away from himself. His eyes widened slightly in a mild surprise. The medicine cat had taken the life of another. While it was in the code for them to not do so, Bearpaw found himself overwhelmed with an understanding of duty. He did not understand that life, but he understood the warrior code. And sometimes you needed to save the lives of other. Unsure whether or not Goldeneye would catch it in her manic state, he tipped his head in something akin to a nod. Huh.
The Ghost of Ripped's Past
Characters : (T)inylegs, (D)aisyflame, (S)unflower, (Tu)lipfang
Number of posts : 5130
Age : 19
Clan/Rank : (T)SkC, (D)SC, (S)SkC, (Tu)SC
|Subject: Re: The Winds of Winter [PLOT FINALE] Fri Nov 09, 2018 11:17 am|| |
Some might have said he was a coward for not joining in the pointless fight against Lichenmask, but watching as cats were struck down left and right, Tinystar found himself glad that he'd chosen to stay in the out skirting shadows of the scarlet clearing. From what he was able to tell, fighting the Exile was useless and no matter what cat went up against him, they were a goner. And being a sensible cat, he wasn't about to waste a life to the likes of his ruthless paws. Eyes wide and legs quivering at the sight of the medicine cats rounding up the wounded, the thought of dealing with the wounded back at camp sent a shiver up his long spine and the small white leader's ears perked as the battle seemed to momentarily stop at Lichenmask's sudden yowl for attention. What did he possible have planned now?
______________________________________~ Ice Ice Baby
Number of posts : 2832
Age : 20
|Subject: Re: The Winds of Winter [PLOT FINALE] Fri Nov 09, 2018 7:05 pm|| |
Thunderous amounts of blood rushed through Lichenmask's pulsing ears, the tumultuous roaring nearly drowning out the deafening rumble of pragmatic whispers and chaotic echoes that arose from the crushed battlefield. Perhaps how weary he truly was served as the proper indication, or perhaps it was how something vivid and enticing flashed behind his lids- but he now knew. It was time. Leopardstar and Silverfang were cast off without a single heartbeat of hesitation, an unsightly flash of bloodied fur that was hungrily engulfed within the looming cloud of smog that rolled heavily throughout the densely-packed foliage of the clearing. Words were unacknowledged, immediate presence hardly given more than a brief thought. Two sinners, two wicked beings of unholy standing deserved no less- they deserved whatever became of them during immediate impact, whether it was to have their bones splintered beyond recovery or whether it was to vanish within the flames that had already claimed so many.
His martyrs were gone, stiff to the arising sun, yet they were no longer bound by the chains of life and servitude. They had succeeded their purpose, they had run this trail until the very end. There was no more to be done, it was time. Straining to catch a glimpse of the murky night sky high above him, the bloodied and dying tom peered upwards into the dismal darkness that had been beckoned forth by his own actions. It was strangely beautiful, a darkness worthy of dying to in its own right. However, before Lichenmask was properly given the chance to study the finality of what was transpiring before him, a sudden weight upon his back sent him lurching slightly- the white hot flames that had once raged within his dimming down until only a few smoldering coals remained. Tattered ears flicking at Sparkpaw's words, unseen energy twisted in upon itself for an ultimate measure of strength similar to that previously displayed. However, the brief flash of disheveled mottled fur within his peripheral vision made him pause for a moment.
So this was the unfortunate sire of Jaystar and Goldeneye? Sparkpaw was still readily plucked upwards by an unseen force, wrenching free several clawfuls of Lichenmask's fur and flesh in the process, left to hang heavily in the air above the Great Rock. Twisting around to peer at the younger tom with a ravaged face, the Exile's frightening gaze revealed nothing as he seemingly gazed at Sparkpaw for no apparent reason. The young tom had no idea who he was, nor where he came from- it was almost quite sad. What kind of parents were blind to what tragedy that they had unknowingly beget upon those they had sired? What kind of parents were too cowardly to come forth and claim their own young? As detached as he was, Lichenmask was certainly a better parent than Goldeneye and Jaystar in such a regard. Even a cat with no eyes could see that Goldeneye loved no cat but herself, she was undeserving of the ability to bear life. Head giving the slightest of shakes, the soft movement was barely perceptible within the smoky darkness of the night. Instead of merely being flung off within the darkness of the night like all those who came before him, Sparkpaw was merely set down upon the opposite edge of the clearing with as much grace as possible.
The young Apprentice's life would be difficult enough with time, there was no reason to incite more damage needlessly.
A cloudy vapor, dusted lightly with the faintest specks of starry white light, began to pour profusely from Lichenmask's form. It surged especially heavily from the bloodied, vulnerable points of his face- steaming rivulets weeping from his gleaming eyes, dripping softly from his bloodied nose and maw. The number of challengers rapidly dwindled within mere moments, going from a storm to a measly silence exuded by all those who could still fight. What a pity, so many yellow-bellied cowards. The starry light began to curl upwards, dissipating among the copious amounts of smoke that still steadily arose from the wild flames that licked upwards into the stifling night air. As the peculiar steam-like tendrils continued to drift upwards, the strength that had once pulsated through Lichenmask's veins rapidly followed suit. Even as exhaustion and agony began to curl within his nearly unrecognizable body, the former RiverClan accepted the surge of sensations with a surprising sense of grace. It was only temporary, anyways.
Lichenmask used StarClan's Wrath, Dealing UNKNOWN Damage & Costing UNKNOWN Stamina.
Alien silence descended upon Fourtrees, heady quietude roiling heavily amongst the smokey turmoil of the terse clearing. Flame-darkened rivulets of smoke drifted leisurely above decaying grasses, weaving intricate paths among the slumping tendrils of brittle foliage. The suffocating smog, which partially obscured the countless stiffening bodies from view, effectively swallowed the remaining traces of irksome noise. The stench of fear hung heavily upon the air, sharpened by dismay at the realization of how few remained. Wounded cats sprawled all about Lichenmask, rendered practically lifeless by the sheer force of whatever powers had once again taken hold of his mortal conviction- not that their agonized moans and writhing detracted his fixation from what lay before him. Unseen by the mere mortal eye and nearly lost within the whirling columns of thick, hot smoke resided a welcomed creature. Thick swatches of star-riddle white fur gleamed out from within the whirling darkness, finite existence easily overcome by the thick blackness of the smoke. Murky gaze, ominously similar in intensity to the very one that strained to catch a glimpse of what resided within the smog, faintly evident within the curling columns of life-stealing bleakness. As the flames swallowed greater and greater amounts of oxygen, his vision strangely became much more clear- even as ominous dark film crept across the length of his vision, one thing became marginally more pronounced.
"Sparrowleaf..." He uttered, devotion and conviction sharpening the singular word whispered as if prayer, "Mother, you've come at last." If he possessed the ability to weep, he would've been brought to his knees in such a moment. All of this archaic bloodshed, countless meaningless deaths, it was all worth it. At a time within his incredibly finite life, he would've cursed Sparrowleaf's very name- the one who had forcibly fronted him upon this war, the one who had made him pay a price so very high he could not even begin to combat the debt it created, the one who had forsaken him to such terrible knowledge. Yet, he could not bear the thought of existence without the ghostly molly's interference. Everything between them had become so utterly intertwined that every part of her was him, and every part of him was her. They were one being, one creature who could not survive without a mutual support provided by the dual company. A trembling forepaw was extended upwards in the direction of Sparrowleaf, broken foreclaws trembling sharply as they strained desperately for just a mere touch. It had been done, the price finally paid. The sky heaved for a final time, a rush of chilly rain descending upon the flame-ravaged clearing- freeing the battered inhabitants of the blood and ash that clung heavily to their sweat-slick coats. The ferocious downpour of rain reduced the wild flames into nothing more than a pitiful hiss, billowing tendrils of riotous white smoke drifting upwards in a leisurely manner. The terrifying strength that had overcome Lichenmask no longer remained, his internal flames simmering down in a manner that was similar to the fire that had once raged around him. Barley able to keep himself upright any longer, his voice was hardly discernible among the sharp hissing of decaying flames.
"Is it done? May I finally go free?"
"You have done what you must, little one."
"Was it enough?"
"It was never enough, Lichenmask. Not even you have the gift to ford destiny."
"Fate is the very stars themselves. You may walk without seeing them, but they always burn on. Only when time itself turns to dust will one have the abilities to change destiny."
Lightning, bred from the final commands of an unseen specter, parted the heavens for the last time. The blinding flash of searing light revealed nothing but ominous shadows lurking high above, showing not what was imminently happening just above the countless cat's heads. A low tone rumbled throughout the night air, drawing the remaining chaos to an abrupt halt. A strange noise rose above the hiss of the dying flames, peculiar yet terrifying in its own right. Somewhere high above, ravaged by the unnatural presence of lightning and flames, a branch finally splintered beneath its own weight. The sudden crumbling of ancient bark sent a shower of debris raining down upon the bedraggled clearing. A chilling moan resonated through the terse night air, a great trembling radiating deep into one's bones as the massive branch finally went free of its previously stationary position. Dry leaves whispered farewells as the ancient oak branch came raining down from the heavens. Yet, somehow the sudden calamity of noise went unnoticed as Lichenmask continued to press Sparrowleaf further.
"Then what was the point? Suffering? To try so desperately, only to lose?" Time was quickly evading him as the massive branch plummeted down to the awaiting earth. Yet, the realization that the branch was nearly upon him still went unknown, unheeded. "They always told me it had to be done, that success was the only option."
"It was never about something as meager as success or failure, little one. It was about choice, the choice to walk within the light or the darkness, the choice of stars or ashes. The Clans have made their choice, just as you have made yours. There is no more to be done, you must come home."
Come home? But how? It wasn't like any of these cats could kill him.
The white columns of wild white smoke stirred in all directions as the branch continued to rush downwards, gaining speed with every passing second. Sparrowleaf, as quickly as she had originally appeared before him, was lost to the suffocating confines of the dying smoke. For once in his lifetime, Lichenmask felt... peace, even in spite of the dilemma of death. The unwelcomed voices no longer screamed within his aching mind, visions of the future and ancient times no longer flickered behind his eyes, the incessant drive to go, go, go no longer roaring within his being. The uncharacteristic madness had left him empty, void of a willingness to forge onwards into whatever awaited him with this next dawn. The only craving that resonated within his bones was the longing for sleep, a night where his sleep would finally go undisturbed. The price for his gift had finally been paid, it was time to go into whatever awaited him next. Heaving his broken body forward a pace or two so that he lingered atop the very edge of the Great Rock, Lichenmask turned to gaze at the bloodied and exhausted features of the Clan cats below.
They had made their choice, there was nothing more to be done. They had been given every last chance to see the what awaited them, yet they'd rather fight upon this night, only to perish in the darkness. Perhaps that was what needed to be done- mayhaps it was time for the Clans to go into the night for a final time, for it was the only way to ensure peace. The Clans had become so... archaic, so very misguided. They bred nothing but misery and misfortune, a suffering that was undeserving to so many. Death brought something so much more grand than existence, so much more than what their minds could truly comprehend. It would bring Lichenmask a peace he had never known thus far, hopefully it would bring them such. But they don't deserve peace.
They deserve to suffer.
Those who would feign shock and rage at the prospect of purity were the very same who immediately resorted to murder.
They deserved nothing but what would come in time.
"I pray that you shall see in time, I pray that you shall find the light of the truth. For what do you know of fear, of darkness? Fear is for the longest night, where the snow drifts rise higher than any tree and the wind burns greater than this fire you've witnessed. Fear is for when the sun hides itself for seasons, where Warriors are born, live, and die under the darkness, for when Queens would rather kill those who suckle at their belly rather than condemn them to such a life." Tilting his head skyward to catch a final glimpse of the rainy sky, Lichenmask relished in the sensation of cool water upon his flesh for a brief moment, eyes still tightly sealed and unknowing to the sentence passed by their Ancestors above. "The long night comes, and with it come the dead." Luminous eyes flickering open, the tom didn't have a moment to process the image of the branch directly above him.
Within mere seconds of those final words, the ancient oak branch came plummeting down atop the Great Rock. A terrible sound erupted within the air, wood splitting upon stone and a shrill screaming as the roughened surfaces of partially dead branches grated across the sacred stone. Lichenmask vanished within the explosion of smoke and debris that arose as the branch collided with the dry earth. Splinters and fragments of wood, intertwined with chunks of earth upturned by the sudden force of impact, sprayed up into the smokey night air- hanging precariously for several long heartbeats before inevitably crashing down once more. Cries rose up into the air for a brief moment during the initial impact as cats were mercilessly showered with the sharp debris, but the noise was quick to drift away into nothing but constraining silence. There was no further movement on behalf of the branch, no sudden reemergence of Lichenmask, only the faintest glimpse of a dark forepaw hanging ominously still from within the entangled nest of shattered branches. The only true movement from atop the Great Rock was the thin rivulets of dark blood plunged heavily from the limp extremity, crashing down into the fire-darkened earth below.
Somewhere behind the dissipating clouds and fading storm, a new dawn began to stir upon the horizon, untouched by the menacing presence of the eclipse. Light would finally return to the forest on this arising morning.
Former Site Administrator
currently confined to a nursing home for being senile
|Subject: Re: The Winds of Winter [PLOT FINALE] || |
The Winds of Winter [PLOT FINALE]