(West of sunberth)Blood and Sweat (CE Only)

[Zandelia]

It was an unusual event when she considered all things about her life, a mass gathering of the unimportant, the unproven. She could find little within her heart that bled for hose whom had not bled for others before. She was of the mind that usefulness was more an indicator of solidarity than any trivial belief in a family unit was. She could respect those whom viewed the Crimson Edge as a family unit, a survival mechanism. However, she also knew that without something to anchor people together there would merely be the concept of advantage and weakness – it was what Sunberth was built upon on the whole. She was trying to do something different, along with the other main members of the group, however she was beginning to suspect it would take more than words and a few choice threats.

No, fear is what will create the initial bond. Then comes reliance, and lastly comes obedience. I would factor in trust if I thought anyone in Sunberth was capable of such a virtue she thought to herself as she watched the masses gather.

She was still, silent and contemplative. It was a mental game she played as she watched the ragtag bundle of non-molded potential gather – one which she knew was a reality more sharply than the others upon the ground did, it occurred t her. She was secluded within a nearby tree, a place of ambush for those of a shadowy nature. She had never really met the rogue dubbed with the name Antar, though she was unsure what his real name actually was as of that moment. However, she knew how many of them would have di3ed under his arrows given that they had sauntered into a clearing with unabashed naivety. It was shocking, in a cruel way

“One, two…five” she muttered as she played it out within her skull, a massacre of foolishness in a town of condescending cynicism.

It was as the last ones meandered their way towards Cade that she levered herself off of the branch that had been her perch and landed softly upon the bladed grass beneath her, mushrooms crunching underfoot. She shook her head and looked to Cade, her very demeanor showing him her disappointment with their new recruits. They were arrow fodder, not a one of them considering options other than the basic.

“And then you all died,” she spoke up as they began to notice her presence, “walking into a clearing without a worry, nor a care. Remember what city you are in before you wander around aimlessly children. I will not waste my time if it means people will merely get themselves killed no matter what I teach” she growled as she skulked towards Cade, knowing his own method of teaching and suiting her actions to co-operating with it.

“For those who do not know me, I don’t care. For those who do, you can tell the others. We are here to train, not to marvel at the beauty of the foliage. Cade, what do you see in them?” she asked him, almost off-hand. However, her words held a purpose she hoped the barbarian would pick up on.

To succeed, you need to begin knowing you are a lump of dung she thought as she swept her single-eyed gaze across those now assembled.

[Musca]

There was simply no other words for it- she was exhausted. She was a creature of the night; more than capable of blending in with shadowed streets and musky houses. In the morning? She was no better than an irritated cat in heat. But word had reached her about some sort of meeting in the Crimson Edge, and in an some misdirected logic, Musca had forced herself awake for the event. Beside her, the slave purred in his deep sleep, still immersed in his fleeting dreams. She grimanced at the light that crawled inside the cave, kicked his legs away from her's and stood up from the bed. Muscles cracked in defiance, wanting to stay a little longer in the comfort of her sheets. But the mind was stubborn and practical, pulled her towards the bucket filled with water and splashed her face with lukewarm coolness and forced her to prepare for the day. She greeted the sunshine of the hills with a grimace, hate bubbling up already for the sun. Just to spite them, she wandered all over the grounds of the hills, taking her time to avoid the large group that she smelt ahead of her. After getting sick of the venture, she started walking to the right direction. A sound escaped her and she forced herself towards the crowd, her wings trailing behind her as fiddled with her wooden dagger. receipt-5 sm for bucket

[Jean]

Jean squeezed Lebanon's sweaty sides with her legs, urging the mare to keep up her canter. The horse's nostrils flared as she labored for breath, stretching her body out in a long, ground eating stride. Dirt kicked up behind them, leaving a cloud of dust on the road. She bobbed in the saddle, moving with the strong rhythm of her horse. She could see the gathering ahead. There was a wide assortment of people, and though she hadn't taken a good look yet, she thought she saw the flashes of familiar faces. She also noted some Zith, so she'd be on guard. As Lebanon reached the group, she reigned the mare in, patting her neck as she pranced in a tight circle, the horse wanting to keep moving. Grabbing a fistful of mane, Jean swung out of the saddle and dropped the reigns. The mare snorted, shook her head, and trotted off to find a spot to graze. Jean stretched her stiff muscles, groaning as her back popped in several places. Most of the group had picked one or two wooden weapons from the supply in the back of the mule drawn wagon. She wished she could just use the bow that was slung over her back, but getting some close quarter skills could save her life. She picked a wooden dagger. It was almost long enough to be a short sword, but not quite. Jean had aspirations to be able to dual wield a pair of small blades at one point, but she'd have to learn to handle one first. Crawling before walking, and walking before running. She gave a nod to Cade and stood on her toes, craning her neck to get a better look at the people here. Hopefully there was a good friend somewhere in this mass.

[Stigandr]

Why was he here? Was it for the companionship of people that called out to him? Was it to see more of his...friends...if they would consider themselves that? Was it to make money? He was not really sure himself, but he would soon find out he figured. As he walked up to Cade, he could see several people he knew already here, holding various wooden weapons and testing them out slightly in their hands. Armed combat. Stigandr hated it, feeling weapons were a hinder to him, especially trying to track it as a Kelvic while shifting. Sighing, Stigandr moved passed everyone and looked into the cart, his hands taking and tossing several daggers and swords aside, until his eyes found a wooden short spear on the side of the cart. He had seen this weapon used by his old master's friends. He remembered it being similar to a...quarterstaff...but able to be thrown. Taking his weapon, he walked over to Andalusia and Sahashkalilia, "Hello. It is nice to see you two here. I do not feel as lonely now havaing friends around." He spoke a bit softer than normal, beginning to understand how to talk quieter when needed.

[Cade]

Posting Order: Cade, Lusa,Apos, Shadowfang, Wrenmae, Roka, Mok, Krieg, Andalusia, Kit, Aerika, Sahashkalila, Ana, Lyalya, Chamaeleon, Rail, Xavior, Daniel, Shishi, Leon, Zandelia, Musca, Jean, Stigandr

NOTE: Timestamp has changed to the 40th of spring


After the greetings were all done and the Crimson Edge began to mingle around waiting for their Captain to begin the promised training. This was a day to build comrade, basic skills and teamwork all to make them effective as a clan, a guild of multi talents and far most a young family needing to watch each other's back in this world of uncertainty and this city which births danger to all those not prepared. This was truly the beginning for the Crimson Edge, Eyrss and he may have whispered it last summer but before him now was a rag tag crew of twenty two, more then he every dreamed would come to his cause. He was proud, but there was much work to be done......... lots of work before they could be considered a true clan.

His eyes caught the wink of the beautiful Laylya and the glances of Shishi. Two women he was very fond of were now in the same vicinity of each other. A possible problem, but one he was not going to let hijack his training regime for the crimson edge. Instead, he returned both of them an affectionate nod before he walked to the front of the group, taking his position of leader.

"LISTEN UP!!" The barbarian's roar echoed like thunder silencing the crew before him as their attention fell solely on their new captain. " WE ARE CRIMSON EDGE.......A CLAN OF ALL WALKS OF LIFE, GANGSTERS, MURDERES, THIEVES, FIGHTERS........COOKS AND EVERYTHING IN BETWEEN. WE ARE A MIX OF RELIGION AND RACES DRAWN TOGETHER FOR ONE PURPOSE, OUR NEED TO SURVIVE"

Cade paused letting that sink into their skulls before continuing on ".......TO SURVIVE!..... SUNBERTH IS DANGEROUS, MOST OF YOU KNOW THAT AND MOST IF NOT ALL OF YOU KNOW THAT SAFETY IN NUMBERS IS BY FAR MORE SUCCESSFULL THEN BEING A LONE WOLF. SO THIS DAY IS ALL ABOUT SHARPENING OUR SKILLS TO BETTER OUR CHANCES OF SURVIVAL IN THIS MAD CITY, TO MAKE OUR CLAN STRONG AND EVER BINDING"

A wolfish grin formed upon his face, it was time to get the show on the road, literality. "THIS DAY, I WILL SEE BLOOD AND SWEAT BY THE BUCKETS" he growled, his fist pounded to his chest savagely as he was hyped for the upcoming "it is 2kms to the city and another 2kms back to this spot. I want you all to run there and back....."

The barbarian looked upon them, they all looked back confused on what he was demanding " FUCKING RUN YOU MAGGOTS!!!" He screamed as he drew his wooden sword poised to discipline any of those that staggered to his orders.

OOC: All i need you guys to do is post your run there and back.

[Lusa]

Lusa was feeling intensely overwhelmed by the crowd, by the sea of unfamiliar faces, and by the close proximity of both Cade and several Zith. For the life of her, she doubted she would ever get over the uneasy feeling they caused her gut. She waved slightly at the people she recognized, awkwardly holding the longsword in one hand, using the ground to bear most of its weight. She perked up even more with the appearance of Zandelia, who seemed to have snuck up behind them. Wilting slightly, she realized she had failed some sort of test by her idol, a test of detection, it seemed.She was highly started by Cade's booming voice, her sensitive ears ringing so hard that she barely heard any of his speech. With her one free hand she rubbed her ear, trying to exterminate the painful sound. She did, however, catch his final command to run. She floundered momentarily, not knowing whether she should leave her weapon or run with it; she decided the latter, as its weight would only serve to strengthen her already muscular legs. She slung the wooden sword over her shoulder and shot off, remembering to keep her breathing even and steady. This, at least, was something Lusa had actual skill at. She loved running, and it was a part of who she was; prey. Lusa ran as if she were scared for her life, and she certainly had experience with that feeling. She imagined the Zith behind her, chasing her, just this close to making a meal of her. This lent her legs strength. She chanced a look back at the others, smiling, and laughed breathily with the simple joy of a good run. She then set her mind on the task, entering that empty place mentally, where nothing existed besides her breath, her legs, and the ground before her. It was as if she had closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, she was once more standing before Cade, panting and sweating, feeling a beautiful sense of adrenaline and exhilaration.

[Apos]

Apos hummed lightly to himself as he continued down the dusty, man made road that led to his destination, West of Sunberth. A gust of wind brought the fresh scent of the plain to him as it whipped upon his bald head, causing him only to squint slightly as debris left the ground and played on his visage. It was a lone path for the most part. Every once and a while, he'd look back, and to his left and right to see if anyone's around but he was still engulfed with solitude. It didn't bother him that much though, he was used to traveling alone. Him joining a syndicate wasn't exactly in his nature, but there couldn't be much harm in numbers, and joining the cause of a Brotherhood was better than chasing the dreams of a lone wolf. As he walked, his keen senses picked up something in the vicinity. Or so he thought. Sighing, Apos turned back around, eying the trees and underbrush to the left of the path. He halted a second, then decided whatever was in the brush didn't have the potential to harm him anyway, so he turned and started back down the road. There wasn't too much here, not in the physical sense, but there were memories. He'd walked this same path on the way in to Sunberth. Just as Apos began to forget about the length of time it took to get to his destination, and started to entertain himself by playing with a knife in his hand as if it were a playing card, he heard voices. His pace slowed as his hour long trek came to a close. He carefully looked to each of the members present at the location. There was such a diversity here that he wasn't used to. He neared the large group, and to those who noticed his late entrance, he gave them a respectful nod, if only to greet them. Then he heard someone speaking. No, yelling. He was obviously the leader, the one who'd set this day up, who'd rallied all these men and women to train as a clan today. As the man spoke, Apos quickly made his way to the wagon, and looked over the wooden weapons deciding which one to pick up. He chose the wooden long sword. Apos was quite familiar with small weapons, such as his ulaks and daggers, so going out of his comfort zone would suffice for a great experience gain. Still listening to the large man he recognized to be Cade, he found a place to impale his wooden sword in the ground and just as Cade finished his speech, Apos took off. The myrian was thankful he decided not to wear any armor today, for it would make this specific task quite a challenge. He was in great shape however, and the attire he chose to purse to himself proved to be a good decision. Placing one foot after another, in a practiced, careful stride, Apos' arms rose into a mechanical stiff-armed form as he soared into the distance toward the city. The heat proved to be no problem at all. He had on a black tank top, which allowed his arms and his torso to breath easily and without much trouble. Just above the cut of his shirt, three tattoo like claw marks could barely be seen, but it was a gnosis mark from the patron Goddess Myri. Today it seems it would prove useful. The stamina increase allowed him to reach the city, and turn around with only a slight sign of fatigue, a sheet of sweat which hadn't begun to run rampant upon his skin, and a slightly deepened breathing rotation. His black pants and boots, didn't help much to mitigate the heat because of their color, but the material did aid a bit, see it as to how thin they were. He looked ahead and back at other members, then ahead once more to their training grounds where Cade awaited their return. Feeling a hunch in his back, another sign of fatigue, Apos fought away the weakness of the position and straightened his back as he pushed himself to run harder, even harder than when he first took off. He could feel his face straining as he saw Lusa and Cade up ahead. He raced with himself to get there, and slowed himself to a careful halt as he approached. He panted and placed his hands on his hips as he walked in a circle, then stood still concentrating on getting his breath back. He turned from the two already here, then back to the path to which everyone would hopefully return from.

[Shadowfang]

Shadowfang forced himself back to his feet. He had been slammed face first into the dirt by the small girl who had tackled him. The pain he felt in his nose was far worse than the embarrassment of being taken down by Aerika. The girl was making him very angry, but she had saved his life previously, so decided that he would not kill her. He looked back at the man that had stood in front of him, the man that made it apparent that he wanted to be Shadowfang's opponent. Shadowfang readied himself, putting his dagger in front of him and waiting for the first strike.

Then, Cade's booming voice blasted through his ears, making them ring. He winced from the pain and looked over to the Myrian. The man wanted them to run all the way back to the city and then return here. He could not be serious. His second lout shout proved that he was serious indeed.

Shadowfang began following the other Crimson Edge members at a brisk pace. He did not want to risk flying as the Myrian might deem that as disobeying an order and punish him. He brought his pace up to a jog. If he was going to be forced to run, he might as well try to run the entire way.

When he finally got back to the clearing, many people had arrived before him. He trudged his way to the middle of the area in his forced jog and stopped, putting his hands on his knees and breathing heavily. His breaths were shallow and raspy. He had never run so far in his life. He had never needed to. His wings had always been sufficient to get him where he needed to be. Shadowfang coughed and felt warm mucous fill his throat. His side and his lungs hurt and his legs were weak and wobbly. Damn him he though, his unspoken words loaded with malice. Still, Cade was his commander. Any thoughts he had about such treatment; he would keep to himself. Orders were meant to be followed.

[Wrenmae]

So many. It was the first impression Wrenmae had. The Crimson Edge had swollen, nearly doubling itself since the winter when he'd joined them. It was uncomfortable to see so many, cutthroats and murderers, or at least he had to safely assume that. Most of them had dealings with Shroud, his crueler other side...but without him in control, Wrenmae was at a loss to define relationships. Two Zith so far, ugly monsters, personally he couldn't stand the thought of being near to one, much less defending one. They were eaters of human flesh, they enslaved, murdered, rampaged, and slaughtered with disregard to most civilized protocol. But he hadn't much time to think. Cade stepped forward, all rippled muscles and dark hair. His voice boomed over the rest of them, silencing the recruits. He spoke as though this organization was some sort of family, as if anyone would willingly submit themselves to be bosom brothers with a death dealing monster. Of course...that much could be said of him as well. He looked down at his hands. They were clean now, but he could imagine the blood on them from the lives he'd shed, the people he'd slain. It felt heavy, a boiling sense of insecurity that threatened to tumble over his composure and upset his stomach. He held it though, turning and running with the rest. The boy had no formal training in the art, using his legs to dash between the patchwork stalls in Alvadas rather than marathons. He quickly used up his stamina to reach Sunberth, turning to run back when exhaustion began weighing heavily on his lungs. Consequently, he was one of the last ones to arrive, legs pumping exhausted as he stopped to gasp in breath. He arrived just shortly before the Zith, an accomplishment in his eyes but only barely so by the progress of the others.

[Roka]

Roka had kept to himself, among the masses. He had seen several he wished to greet, Chamaeleon, Andalusia, Kalila. They were the three he was most drawn to, stealing fleeting glances here and there, but this was not a moment to be weak and they would distract him from the focusing on the others. Still he could smell them, keep them in range. It was some silent oath he'd made to himself; reminding him they were precious, by the very nature of their souls. Other faces were familiar, some in unfavorable ways. Connection to each person could hardly be made. They were all here for their own motives.

Slowly as the new arrivals began to dwindle and the cart was nearly barren of possible weapons, like magnets they were drawn to a leader. They were all awaiting orders, looking for guidance from the large brute before them. He reminded Roka of a bull, solid and weathered, with proud marks of previous battles. He found comfort in his authority, and how very sure of himself he was. It was admirable. Soon his mouth opened releasing a booming voice across the horde of people. He winced as the noise struck him, and inhaled a sharp breath, but took in every word. Hearing him speak about the group was serene comfort to his unease. This was something he wanted, to survive. It was a base instinct, and to do so in the company of others he would consider family, was something he looked forward to.

The final order came, to run. Not a terribly difficult command, but in the flow of the moment, he nearly chose to transform as he would more comfortably run. He stopped himself with a faltering step toward the direction they were to head to, and slid his dagger into the strap at his thigh. Then they were pummeled with his final yell. He nearly jumped at the surprise of it and began to run forward with a muffled growl, not of anger but tenacity.

Running felt good, the wind splashing over his face cooling off his flushed cheeks and warming muscles. His boots felt awkward to run in, but his steady pace kept him as one of the front runners. Running, hunting, this was all in his nature and something he enjoyed, and was good at.

Soon he had returned to Cade, pouring in with a group that had stayed near the front, keeping a good standing for himself. A sharp grin filled his face with each panting breath, as he looked over the others that had finished with him. He stood with his hands clasped behind his head, catching his breath as he watched the others arriving.