The Ironsong Tribe

Full Version: To Turn the Seasons ((Open RP))
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From the cliffs of Thunder Bluff, a wind was borne down to the plains and rolling hills of Mulgore, homeland of the noble, once nomadic Tauren. The wind twisted in and out of lush green grasses and the hairs of flatland cougars and various breeds of prairi wolf; even the occasional swoop felt the breeze stir its feathers. North the wind blew, curving over the mountain range, gathering heat as it crossed from the plains of Mulgore to the savannahs of the Barrens. By the time the wind reached the Razormane stronghold of Thorn Hill, it had been heated not only by the sun, but the heat of battle was in it as well.

The young druid Gloomcow, preferring to be referred to as simply Gloom but never as simply Cow, fought for his life fang and claw. His immense bear form rippled with muscle beneath the thick, brown fur. No less than two Razormane Water Seekers had claimed him as their target, as well as the wolf belonging to one of the Razormane's Hunters. Gloom let out a frightening roar, already wounds had been sustained on all sides, and the feral, ferocious portion of his brain was blinded with rage. To him, there were only the three quillboars and their wolf, and they would all die.

The assailants shrunk back at that roar; having a bear twice your size screaming at you can be quite demoralizing at times, even if you have assistance. Shrinking back was their first mistake. In a flash, Gloom's claws flurried to maul one of the Water Seekers beyond recognition, ripping its face to shreds and blinding it as well. It now swung blindly for the few seconds it took for Gloom to take its disgusting head between his paws and turn it into a pancake. Turning with surprising, ferocious speed, Gloom raked a claw across the face of the hunter's wolf before barreling into the second Water Seeker, bearing it to the ground, where his fangs met its throat.

Just as he was exulting over the victory, an arrow pained his left haunch. Letting out another roar, Gloom turned to face the hunter and loped forward, picking up speed before goring the quillboar through the gut with the natural horns kept in his bear form. The wolf, finally sensing what had been done to its masters, fled. It was not fast enough to escape one last mauling from Gloom's claws, finally limping back towards the Hill to die.

Gloom had not escaped uninjured of course, and healing would have to be done, but that could wait until he was safely back at the Crossroads Inn. Loping to his current home, the breeze felt cold against his bearflesh....

((Just something I wanted to get up as a sort of RP intro since I can't be on WoW for a good while yet, feel free to post a reply!))