Post by Dia on May 28, 2009 9:36:58 GMT -5
15th day of Hammer, 1481 D.R.
Cormanthor Forest, Dalelands
Silence was broken in the Den of Claws by the sound of gleeful howls. Hundres of lycanthropes filled the old Malarite fortress, many carrying torches as they made thier way towards the center. There, upon a hill, sat the only house within the entire fortification; a small lodge, within which lived the fortress' leaders, Alexi and Larissa Aermane. The husband and wife, both lycanthropes themselves, ruled over the tribe of lycans living in the Den of Claws, serving jointly as Huntmasters. Yet in the preceeding few months, none had heard a word from Larissa. Only Alexi would emerge from the lodge, and even he became scarce of late, leaving the responsibility of running the tribe on their son, eighteen year old Aaron.
It was this night that it was revealed to the tribe why their Huntmasters had slowly vanished. The sounds of a newborn child crying filled the night, and drew the tribe to the lodge. Many lycanthropes of every sort imagineable gathered around the lodge, howling, roaring, and squealing with excitement. After cleaning the child, Alexi, and a tired Larissa emerged, holding the newborn up to present the tribe with their newest member. Aaron joined his parents atop the hill and touched his new younger brother's head.
The cries and celebration that followed echoed throughout the northwestern Cormanthor. Loud enough so that one listening in the distance could hear. Only hours into the celebration, the entire fortress was silenced by a roar louder than all of theirs combined. The denizens of the fortress searched the surroundings with their eyes, as Alexi, Larissa, and Aaron made their way to Malar's shrine, with the newborn in hand. The three kneeled as they reached the altar, and placed the newborn upon it.
"Father," Alexi spoke, "your grandson is ready for your blessing." All eyes turned to the cliff above the altar, as a growl was directed down at the newborn. Atop the cliff perched a fifteen foot tall werewolf, far larger than any of the others present, from whom the silencing roar had emanated.
![](http://www.thehuntersmoon.com/images/werewolf-pictures/thumbnails/werewolf-forest_thumb.jpg)
(Img from http://www.thehuntersmoon.com)
Cormanthor Forest, Dalelands
Silence was broken in the Den of Claws by the sound of gleeful howls. Hundres of lycanthropes filled the old Malarite fortress, many carrying torches as they made thier way towards the center. There, upon a hill, sat the only house within the entire fortification; a small lodge, within which lived the fortress' leaders, Alexi and Larissa Aermane. The husband and wife, both lycanthropes themselves, ruled over the tribe of lycans living in the Den of Claws, serving jointly as Huntmasters. Yet in the preceeding few months, none had heard a word from Larissa. Only Alexi would emerge from the lodge, and even he became scarce of late, leaving the responsibility of running the tribe on their son, eighteen year old Aaron.
It was this night that it was revealed to the tribe why their Huntmasters had slowly vanished. The sounds of a newborn child crying filled the night, and drew the tribe to the lodge. Many lycanthropes of every sort imagineable gathered around the lodge, howling, roaring, and squealing with excitement. After cleaning the child, Alexi, and a tired Larissa emerged, holding the newborn up to present the tribe with their newest member. Aaron joined his parents atop the hill and touched his new younger brother's head.
The cries and celebration that followed echoed throughout the northwestern Cormanthor. Loud enough so that one listening in the distance could hear. Only hours into the celebration, the entire fortress was silenced by a roar louder than all of theirs combined. The denizens of the fortress searched the surroundings with their eyes, as Alexi, Larissa, and Aaron made their way to Malar's shrine, with the newborn in hand. The three kneeled as they reached the altar, and placed the newborn upon it.
"Father," Alexi spoke, "your grandson is ready for your blessing." All eyes turned to the cliff above the altar, as a growl was directed down at the newborn. Atop the cliff perched a fifteen foot tall werewolf, far larger than any of the others present, from whom the silencing roar had emanated.
![](http://www.thehuntersmoon.com/images/werewolf-pictures/thumbnails/werewolf-forest_thumb.jpg)
(Img from http://www.thehuntersmoon.com)