Birth of a Death Druid:

  Seven foot tall and broad in his shoudlers, Kra was never as strong, or as hardy as his brothers. At his naming ceromony, the burning coals were applied to his chest, and he had weakened and let a cry of pain scream across his lips.

The tribal elder had cast him out into the teeth of the gale. He had not protested. He had understood. The tribe could not afford the weak. The Sharp Ears and the Uman's had driven them to the edge of slavery and destruction. Already, he could hear the beat of the war drums echoing from the future.

He had sat, accepting the need, what must be done, and in the woods, the trees spoke to him. The earth rumbled the secret names, and the wind screamed the words of power and command.

He passed from the world of the True Kind. Time, passed, year on year. When he returned, he knew the names of the Sharp Ears, and the Uman.

They had come, Man and Elf, and had taken his tribe from him. He screamed to the land, and the land folded him in marshes. In bogs. The told him the answer in the beaks of ravens, plucking the elders eyes from his long rotten corpse.

And Kra'hurak heard them.


Reds: Men, Scat, Vomit, Vanilla, Herms (SRP only).

Greens: Rape, Torture, unwilling slaves, kidnapping Detailed roleplay, Non-Con, forced apprentices, nobels, virginal innocents, realsitic reactions, detailed descriptions, plot based depravity, puns.


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