Paint Of War wolf rp server

A crimson shadow emerged upon the bleak horizon, casting a shadow onto the dying terra. Avians warbled overhead in an outcry and scattered against the wind as the forthcoming presence of the new visitant drew near. The cursed burden was not forged of flesh and bone, but merely of abstract animosity. A tale as old as time, known both by young and old, pandemonium erupted in the valley as mundanes scoured for shelter against the cruel misfit. We all knew what it was, for it was a beast of burden- conjured from our own wrongdoings. The Paint Of War is upon us, and it never holds back.

_______________

“Mother nature is a cruel mistress. Of course, upon her wake she created trees, the birds, the very air. For she can be fine and balanced, even kind. But, she is never fair. We all owe it to her, for the country was filled with merry madness. Mortals were her first dreaded gift, quite entertaining things- until they developed consciousness. Lulled by feelings of greed and violence, they soon became victim to another trap of their creator. Laughter born of arguments and mistrials soon fell silent to the fray which enveloped desolation, created of our own animosity. 

Corrupted by the simple sniff of riches blown- The house of the Monarch is merely inhabited by fools, marionettes of their own making. The soft-centered beasts are of mixed descent, stemming from various canines; ranging from mere housepets to blood-curdling forest natives. The mundanes primarily are housed within a large chateau, evident to their posh nature. The king of this castle is often compared to a jester, a never ending masquerade, oblivious to claims bestowed upon him and brisk to liquidate those who oppose him. A battle within themselves, many lay biased towards their riddlers and the kingdom they once knew has been torn to shrapnel by themselves and the outcasts they once acquainted.

Brutal, deranged, bloodthirsty; many words describe the thousands of faces wronged by the Monarch. The Khans have felt wounded towards the acts portrayed unto them by patrons of old blood. Deemed as sinister outcasts of the Monarch's home, Ikaika Djall and her followers would stop at nothing to reclaim what was rightfully theirs. Driven by pure ambition and ignorance, they seek out the most unfeasible actions in order to wreak havoc upon those they deemed unworthy of life. Inevitably, they claim to play god; choosing who lives, who dies, and who gets to tell their story. 

The Vandrelysts- men of the mountain and speakers of sin against the superior being. They tend not to dabble within the blood arts which plague the other packs, yet remain isolated in the summits of the surrounding mountains. They tend to be skilled fighters, preferring a neutrality reason rather than a meaningless confrontation. Valuing life as a mundane object, the creatures carry it to a high standard as something that must be guarded at all costs. Consign not to darkness, but rather an enlightenment towards the depths of which these wolves endeavor. As cunning creatures of a lower order, they pave the path for a better future, one which will bring not only justice, but a war to end all wars.

Tarry not, dove. Delicate things were not meant for a world in which lurks merciless creatures. When they catch you, they will kill you. All the world will be your enemy, Kin with a Thousand Enemies, but first they must catch you; hunters, herbalists, messengers, beings of swift lies. Join us, enemy of my enemy. Traipse into the unknown and revel in the bounty of our clan, walk the paths of votives, or inevitably perish upon the hands of the Monarch.

By daylight a new order will emerge from the broken city of which was devoured. Fires will rise from the smothered ashes that have attained us for too long. Be wary of the distant rhythms of the drums as they drift towards the slum of which was created. The folly of our species carries not in the windswept plains of our combined existence, but rather in ourselves. I’m afraid the monster we may have created is too much for mortal matters. In the end, let it be knownst; nothing escapes their mother of nature.

It's getting dark darling, too dark to see. The decisions you make affect us as a whole, whether it be a more or lesser evil. You write your own story, and develop your own conclusion. Every decision made has either a consequence or benefit, the choice is yours. The past actions ensued by your careless mortal hands have not yet dictated your fate, time is of the essence. Keep your enemies close, but keep your allies closer; for the Paint Of War is upon us, and you must choose your side.” 

-The Lost One

_______________

Paint Of War is a semi literate to literate server. Please do not come in here for one-liners, all roleplay posts must have seven complete sentences at minimum. I ask that you try your hardest to improve with each post, like I, myself- and many others strive to do each day. Please understand mature situations may occur, although we allow any ages 16+ to procure within this server- be mindful we are not responsible for the decisions you make and where it may lead you. We pride ourselves on community ties and would love to expand our horizons to get to know each and every one of you.

We just opened 1-8-2021 and are looking for members  :)

https://discord.gg/5cyjvd2SZ5