It's the end of the 19th century and the end of an era. Humankind begins to expand into Mother Nature's domain, leading to disastrous consequences for the natives of the land. Many grow desperate to maintain their territory or stake their claim in any land in any way they can. As human settlement continues to threaten nature, the wolves of the five western states face a grueling decision: survival by all means necessary or die trying.
We are a semi-realistic, liquid-time, sandbox-esque wolf roleplay very loosely based off of the world of Red Dead Redemption II. Vestige offers a variety of diverse regions spanning five different states to explore, an automated shop, and user-led packs. How will you leave your pawprints on the world of Vestige?
WEATHER Snow finally arrives to the West with the arrival of winter! Ambarino's nights get colder and longer, while the states of West Elizabeth and New Hanover get their share of snowfall. New Austin and Lemoyne are spared from the frost, but there is a distinct, wintery chill in the air.
EVENTS Rumors spread of NEW PACKS FORMING throughout the five states. In addition, canines in the region of BIG VALLEY, WEST ELIZABETH are having more frequent run-ins with hunters seeking out prized commodities: wolf, coyote, and fox pelts to trade.
updates
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The sparsely sylvan grassland of Hennigan's Stead transitioned into swampland on the western shore of Flat Iron Lake, where run-down architecture and watercraft littered a wooden port. Encircled by a dense thicket and veiled by an overcast and drizzling sky, the port known as Thieves' Landing was darkly lit and humid. So, his pupils had dilated to admit as much muted sunlight as possible into his light browns orbs and lent him a piercing gaze marked by presumably demonic possession. That intimidating stare, coupled with a melanistic pelt as attractively unruly as his own, caused travellers to stumble backwards on either side of him whilst his bloodstained paws sauntered along a dirt road through the town. Familiar dockworkers and residents, however, nodded their heads and tipped their hats towards him before turning to murmur about the absence of the human that had accompanied him the last time.
Fang Hennigan looked between their faces apathetically but did nothing to acknowledge their greetings from the porch of the saloon to the left of his path. The thunderous sound of approaching hooves drew his gaze forwards again and his paws bore him immediately and quite nonchalantly around one galloping horse whose rider then sneered and spat beside him whilst continuing past him. Behind him, someone must have dragged that rider down into the dirt before demanding a duel but he paid the event none of his attention. Something else had caught his eye by then: the only other canine, another wolf no less, around the human settlement as far as his eyes could see.
Around the furthest corner of the saloon, behind a wooden staircase, a red wolf stood steadily with all four of its paws on the chest of a human corpse: the loser of a shootout that must have happened minute ago. Blood, which gushed out of the human from at least one unseen bullet wound, flowed from the alleyway to the road and surrounded his paws. His bold, long stride veered towards the grisly scene to see the red wolf devouring the throat of the human. He did not recoil from the sight, not even as the other wolf raised and turned its head to look over its shoulder at him with a dripping, red, sadistic smile.
"Fang Hennigan! It's a pleasure to finally put the name to a face," the smaller, smiling wolf acknowledged him suavely before returning his fangs to the flesh of the fresh corpse. "Rumour has it that you're dead, for a month now, so what're you doing here? Are you alone?"
Post by Wrathmange on Sept 21, 2021 1:16:35 GMT -5
WRATHMANGE
"Lay bare you soul to the beasts of the woods. Nature itself will whisper your secrets to me and I promise I shall give them purpose."
Without so much as a second glance, Wrathmange stepped forth over the invisible border between the unstructured wilds and the blatant organization of human civilization.
For a few hours, now, she had been watching this settlement they called Thieves' Landing, baking quietly within the trees as she observed the dreary goings on of the residents. Nothing of particular note had happened in the time she had been staking out the location; as a wolf and a beast whose natural home lay far, far away from this cluttered collection of structures that reeked of dead forests, she really could not care less about the insignificant activities of humans. This seemed just as well, as many of the people here appeared not to care either. A lawless, unruly world of man lay before her - a stark contrast to the order and general well mannered roll of life within her pack. Mange knew not all human settlements were like this: Grimy, disordered, chaotic. That level of anarchy afforded her a very good opportunity and as such, she had made the trek all the way down to seek a new recruit or two.
No one would miss a few bodies. They were all, in Wrathmange's mind, fated for an existence of constant hunger and misfortune if they refused her offer.
The scarred she-wolf followed distantly in the footsteps of a certain small canine that had passed through not too long ago. They hadn't seen nor had any reason to pay any attention to her. As of yet, she was a simple stranger prowling the streets in search of a quick meal or a sporting chase, and that's how she would let herself be seen until such time as was appropriate to reveal her intentions. As she drew near, the powerfully enticing aroma of freshly exposed flesh drenched in warm, metallic blood came quickly to her nostrils. With a lick of her lips, she set her dark gaze forward and approached. Two wolves whose forms were of vastly different sizes and hues, stood near. The one that Mange had followed was fully face-deep in a fresh kill, while the larger, much darker wolf looked on almost apathetically. Her own expression betrayed nothing except what she wanted them to see. She placed a large paw firmly out in front and stood with her neck craned and ears perked forth in a position neither stiff nor lax, a creature frozen in time with a curious gaze laid upon the scene before her.
"Consuming a human, that is a slippery slope in the many watchful eyes of beast society," Wrathmange mused aloud without accusation. Her voice was soft and her tone was light and conversational, almost contemplative. "Death by itself is what they use to scare children into submission. It is nothing but a step in the journey... How you die, on the other hand, is what matters." With this, she drew closer to the red wolf, slowly, deliberately, languidly, never releasing him from her dark, searching gaze. "Will you die hungry? Will you be scared?" These questions came neither as threats nor implications. They were simple, but in her words were hints of deep preponderance, as though silently imploring the other to think on them carefully. As delectable as the corpse smelled now, now that she was so close - close enough to touch - she made no move to overtake the smaller beast or claim the kill as her own. There was far better flesh to consume than the tainted meat of filthy humans.
Such a pensive, and presumably ominous if not villainous, soliloquy broke the silence between the red wolf, whose tawny tresses were gelled together and reddened further by blood, and the melanistic grey wolf. The former, with sanguine strings of saliva dripping from its fangs, raised its elongated jaws from the corpse so that its nose could very nearly touch that of the female that had reduced the distance between them. It settled onto its haunches comfortably, taking a seat on the chest of the human that bled out, whilst holding the gaze of the she-wolf before it. Neither of them cowered from the eerie, theatrical energy of the other. It responded to her questions at its leisure.
"Do excuse me if I appear to mind the prejudices of bestial societies," it began sarcastically as it cracked a slight smirk at her and then it dragged its slender tongue along its bloodied teeth. "It's not in our primal nature to fear some hellish depths of depravity. Let's leave that to the humans. Likewise, death is only as meaningful as our society makes it. How I die is meaningless to me. It is, as you imply, inevitable," it added, answering her questions without any curiosity about her thought processes. The thoughts of hers which had been spoken aloud sounded out of the ordinary but they were nothing more, nor less, than amusing to the red wolf. A breath out of its nose revealed such mild amusement before it leaned forwards, bringing their faces closer together and locking their gazes. "Do you have a specific death in mind for me, or are you merely passing the time with a philosophical discussion?"
Meanwhile, not at all captivated by the conversation between them, Fang raised his unemotional eyes from the two strangers to a wanted poster that had been stapled to the saloon beside them. He looked between the wanted poster, which illustrated the darkly grinning features of something lupine, and the red wolf. The resemblance was uncanny.
"A gathering of three wolves as obviously undomesticated as ourselves will draw attention to us at some point," interjected Fang, turning his attention towards the she-wolf; "and I have mouths to feed. If you're not going to kill it, or steal its kill, let's take this standoff somewhere quiet."
"Lay bare you soul to the beasts of the woods. Nature itself will whisper your secrets to me and I promise I shall give them purpose."
Wrathmange was nothing if not patient; and though patient, she was also eager. Her ears flicked as a pesky little fly buzzed about her head, but such a small movement was the only distraction she allowed. Even then, it was barely any distraction at all. As the seconds ticked by, the mildly mutilated she-wolf grew to understand this small, sadistic creature a little more. Each movement it made was calculated, given implication beyond the creature's physical stature. The smaller wolf drew so close that Wrathmange could taste the depravity it so nonchalantly consorted with... It was sweet and sour, akin to the flavor of morning dew clinging desperately to a rotten corpse. When you're starving, anything tastes sweet.
Mange was undeterred by the sarcasm, quite the opposite. She remained silent as the red wolf tossed her thoughts back at her with its amused little twist. She merely smiled when it asked of her own plans for its death. The larger, darker wolf whom had remained wholly unamused by this small exchange spoke up, and while Mange was fully attentive, she did not directly address him. Not at first. "Oh, I have a specific death in mind for everyone I meet," the she-wolf replied, merely a statement and nothing more, as she matched gazes with the bloody beast and continued. "But it is not my place to needlessly predetermine anyone's demise. We all eventually lay ourselves down to have our Aspects judged one final time. I am in no hurry." With this last statement, she smiled as one does when inviting someone into a circle - with a warm openness lacking judgement and exuding enthusiasm - and turned her head to give the large blackish wolf her acknowledgements. "Right, of course you do. Apologies, friend. I have matters to attend to, as well. Excuse me. If you would..." With a glance toward the red wolf, the considerably larger ashy grey she-wolf licked her lips, took a slow step away as though to gradually turn back around, then suddenly pushed off with her hind legs to launch at the small bloody wolf atop the corpse.
She clamped down hard with her jaws around the smaller wolf's neck, just behind its ears. She pinned the creature, large paw pressing firmly on its face for a moment, to listen to it yell and feel it writhe, then adjusted her grip and swiftly dragged it away backward to the growing sounds of unrest and alarm. Wrathmange had been ambitious, in seeking to recruit this one. Her thoughts had been only on the good of the pack, and in her eagerness to please the One, she had disregarded a key detail. Humans don't typically respond well to the presence of her kind. The large emotionless wolf was right; his sage words rang through her ears and scattered her other thoughts into the void until another time. Now, Mange was on a mission. She struggled to keep on her path, of course, as the creature wiggled and jerked, but her teeth had sunk deep into its neck and pierced its flesh. Blood oozed into her mouth, leaking down her throat and trickling to her chin, and with every futile yank by the beast, she felt her teeth ripping larger and deeper gashes into the base of its skull.
It took Wrathmange very little time to reach the relative safety of the trees, but by then, she was a bit more worn down and panting. She took a deep breath and held the head of her victim underwater until she could hold her own breath no longer, and lifted it back up. Three more times she did this, until it stopped struggling altogether and simply panted, eyes wide. Then, she released it. "Your Essence has been judged. You are vigorous and resilient, good qualities to have." Confidently did her words come, straight and swift like arrows. She was through philosophizing, but with the dissolving of philosophical tone came an evident conviction. Clearly, Wrathmange meant every word to uplift and encourage the little wolf.
Burn (guest): Hello, just thought I'd say that this is a really awesome idea for a roleplay! Wolves and westerns are two of my favorite things; I'll definitely be stalking this! Best of luck with your roleplay ^^
Aug 12, 2021 14:06:24 GMT -5
psy: Thanks Burn! Feel free to hop in our Discord if you're interested in keeping up or if you have any questions ^^
Aug 12, 2021 18:02:29 GMT -5
Sacred Hearth: so i can't seem to post in affiliates as a guest. I already added your button to our website (sacredhearth.proboards.com) Was trying to get you guys to do the same
Aug 16, 2021 18:01:31 GMT -5
