Fable - Ask Wrath and Pride

[Uhfred]

Dogs and cats do not get along. Neither do Wolves and Lions. Neither do Lycans and Lionmen. So when a lycan pack migrated down into the Aberresai Savanna, the local Lionmen Pride was less than thrilled to have humanoid wolves in their territory. Of course, the wolves were less than thrilled to be near a Lionmen Pride.

So the pack came down from the Falwood and into the Savannah, in the hopes that they would be able to hunt better and more plentiful prey. Among these wolves was the Alpha’s eldest son Baraek, and he was less than happy that they had left their ancestral home. They were roughly thirty Lycans strong not counting pups, twelve of which were females. And the thirty of them set themselves up in the savanna, digging dens and making sure that they were ready to hunt.

It wasn’t no until they were out in the grassland said that they caught a whiff of Lionmen.

 

[Shaka]

"There are wolves in the pride-lands, my king!" A young lioness reported to Shaka, the pride's leader and territorial king of this section of the Aberresai Savannah. The title king was a self styled title showing the vanity of the leeumanne, lionmen, one of the many subspecies of the dieremense (animal-men) that called the Aberresai home. Shaka was more a chieftain then king, nothing like the kings of men and their magnificent castles and sprawling kingdoms. No, his castle keep was a simple beehive hut made from wood, straw and mud that was surrounded by other matching buildings and a simple and primitive wall around the perimeter. This tribal village was named Acacia in conjunction with the ruling Acacia Pride.

Shaka perked up leaning forward in his rough wooden hide throne that was central focus of the circular hut. "Go on Amra! Where were these intruders spotted?" His voice was deep and resonating with an authoritative tone as he spoke in the native tongue of the Savannah known as Aberrish. His dark mane was braided and styled in jewellery along with being dyed red. So was half his face painted tribal red, this time just below his nose as if it were a veil of blood just leaving a scruff of white fur off his chin. Shaka was like most lions, heavily corded with muscles and a athletic frame to their visage.

"South west, the hills coming out from the falwoods is where they are making home" Amra answered, her voice much lighter and more feminine then the large male before her. "Their pact is roughly more then twenty strong from what we could observe from our distance"

" Are these wolves of Dieremanne or are these the cursed creatures......... lycans?"

"Unsure, my king!"

Shaka took a heavy breath as if calculating a response for all in the hut. His harem, his cubs and his braves were eager to hear their leaders decision. It was a decision not to be taken lightly. The Acacia Pride were veterans of the Hyena wars and were versed in hunting and breaking their packs. The cost was heavy and many lions and lioness perished fighting those beasts. Would these wolves be any different? This small sized pack could quickly increase in numbers if left alone to colonize those hills and grasslands. Hunting would be scarce between the two competing clans of predators. This conflict was inevitable, law of nature has made it so.

"We hunt!" Shaka growled, the hut filled with roars................

---------Two Days Later----------

Shaka and his Acacia Pride finally gotten eyes on the Wolf pack. Unfortunately this was out in the open grasslands and where the Lions can see their would be prey, the wolves would more then likely be able to smell the hunting party, made up of mix of lion and lioness braves numbering twenty five. It was a safe assumption to make, the keen smell of the wolves were hard to match, so Shaka decided to not waste time and effort in masking the approach.

The Pride's hunting party was spread out in a skirmish line with Shaka in center lead, his hands grasping a crude two handed sabre. They were of mix weapons, shields and little to no armor. It was time to see what this pack of 'Wolves' were made of. If they stand and make to stay, there would be no mistake in course of action. There would be blood.

Uhfred

 

[Uhfred]

The Alpha crouched low in the grass. As the sun began to approach the horizon Baraek had informed him of having caught the scent of lions, and the Alpha was quick to issue a watch order. Unlike the lions, who approached in a line which was rather conspicuous, the wolves were a little sneakier about it.

As the line of lions approached, a number of the wolves went to their flanks, keeping a respectable distance and hiding in the grass. The lions were brave, and they were aggressive. Not unlike wolves themselves in their movements as a unit.

But they were cats. And the pack were dogs. They were natural enemies, so why bother resisting the call of war. The Alpha let loose a howl, and the pack emerged, their weapons drawn and their snouts opened in angry scowls, their growling was heard. And they charged, their snarling growls telling the lions that if it was a war they wanted, it was a war they’d get.

Baraek himself was the first to enter the fray, his twin arming swords flashing wickedly in the light of the gibbous moon.

 

[Shaka]

The wolves began their charge from the center and from the flanks. Text book menouvering not just for combat but for hunting prey as well. These beasts were not without talent or competent leadership. Such details that Shaka was soaking in. Another was that these Wolves were not of the beastfolk races. They were creatures of the curse, the lycanthrope. An assumption that could easily be made for the pure size of them, they were in their own rights monstrous and a sight to be had as they drove towards the lion's skirmish line. Shaka nore his Pride had any dealings with the lycans but they heard the stories and his memory raced quickly to remember the folk lore that had been told. Their prowess was unmatched by natural creatures, even for the lions. What gnawed at his gut was can they be killed. Myth had it that silver was the weapon of choice but there were stories that these creatures could suffer mortal wounds just like any other. Shaka needed to know for sure for they had no silver weapons or silver sheen to cover their blades. Such was expensive and hard to get in the Savannah. This is why Shaka had openly marched his 'Ou Dapper' out towards the wolves.

The 'Ou Dapper' or Old Braves were a honor unit comprised of the elderly among the Acacai. A special unit of warriors that had failed to find honorable death on the field of battle and have become old and long in tooth.... a unfortunate strain on the tribe. So they were here for 'Ouderdom', the tribes voluntary senicide. Instead of being thrown off a cliff, a chance to fight to the death was preferred.

Shaka raised his sword in the air and roared "VIR EER!!!!" in their native tongue, his voice was like thunder and carried across the grasslands while his Ou Dapper huffed and roared in stoic defiance as the Lycans grew closer. They were still in skirmish line, a shield wall would not be called for death was sought and personal combat was near guarantee to achieve such.

"AANKLAG!" With that the old braves charged out to meet the enemy head on. The wolves closing in would be able to see their enemy were not of youth or of the strength of those in their prime. Those of caution mind would begin to feel the tendrils of danger creeping into the back of their mind. Especially when the powerful forward presence of Shaka dissipated as he did not participate in the suicidal charge.

Shaka could be seen behind the old lions standing still as he watched them all counter charged the enemy. Drums and shields banged in tribal rythem off in the near distance behind Shaka. The rest of the Acacai Pride's contingent of braves were ceremoniously making their way to him. The warriors chanted and cheered on the Old Braves in their Ouderdom sacrifice.

Uhfred

 

[Uhfred]

Old men, and old women, in a profession when they usually die young. Beware of them. His father had told him when he was but a pup. He did not fully understand that until later in his life.

The enemy charged. Twenty five old lions against eighteen young male wolves. The lions were strong, worthy opponents to be sure, and the old ones had experience, a lot of it, and they lived because of their skill and said experience. The wolves were supernatural, empowered by the moon, the brighter it was, the stronger they were.

The wolves met the charge, and the reason they hunted in packs would be brought to the front of their minds. In numbers, their enemy was bigger than they were, so they attacked together. One of the wolves would engage up front with one of the lions, while another struck them down from the side.

Baraek was by far the most eager, charging in ahead of his comrades with his swords held at the ready. The first lion he came across was an older lioness with a spear, one sword knocked it aside and the second opened her throat. His momentum carried him past her, and a spear entered his ribs.

He howled in pained fury as the spear dug into his flesh. His sword flashed across the lion's neck, and his head flew from his shoulders. And Baraek's fellows caught up.

Pressing forward despite his injury, Baraek watched one of his companions be speared in the chest, his heart pierced by the spear, and he slumped dead. The wolves kept going.

 

[Uhfred]

(Shaka, u ok budy?)