PHASE ONE - harbingers of a new world [rogue plot]

[Duskfire]

I WANT SOMETHING JUST LIKE THIS​

---

The effects of Emberfangs stunt were lasting, even if it didn't seem like it at first. Today it was proven though, when Sootstar had come forth with a mission. Deputy and Lead Warriors rallied to her call, the patrol of Windclans finest now found themselves faced with a controversial and unexpected mission.

She wanted them to find more cats.

And not just any cats. No, Sootstar wasn't looking for barn cats or wandering kits with nowhere else to go. She wanted fighters, cats that would stand by her side as loyalists and harden over the soft spots in the clan. The bengal tomcat knew there would be many who were opposed to bringing in so many outsiders when Sootstar had made a point to drive away any cat she saw as unworthy- even youth- but he could also see why she would be prompted to do so. Their clan had made a lot of enemies over the last few months, and their only alliance had a foundation that was built on shaky ground, not promised to last. As much as Duskfire hated to admit it, they might actually need the cats they'd been sent to find.

The loner lands weren't a place the large tom had ever gone to before. Hell, Dusk was far from a travelled cat and he was glad to have Hyacinthbreath and Weaselclaw with him. "This place reeks of dog." the Deputy noted as he padded along, nose wrinkling at the foul odor. Only, it wasn't quite dog, was it? Not fox either, though. He didn't need to tell them to stay vigilant so he didn't bother, instead casting his green eyes about in search of same kind of sign there were cats around- he sure couldn't smell them underneath all not-dog scent.

@hyacinthbreath @WEASELCLAW
​

---

windclan deputy - male - 21 months - single - tall, strong bengal tomcat

 

[Nathanos]

BREAKING MY BONES​

---

The scent on the wind is not that of coyote, but something else entirely. Strangers lurk upon the edges of claimed land, where battle worn felines were all too eager to fight to survive. In a place where food was scarce and danger was always lurking, hardened minds were as a sharp as steely claws, and Nathanos was just desperate enough to challenge anything that might look like competition. He's silent as he strides into view, a beast of a tom with earthen hued fur and charcoal markings. With half of his face torn from flesh, the brutal scarring of a missing eye and a tattered ear was warning enough that this was a tom who knew the hardships of war. At the very least, he makes sure that they can see him. Nathanos doesn't lie in wait, does not lurk at the edges of their vision. He isn't approaching from behind with intentions of attacking, no, he wants to be seen. He wants to give his warning before there is bloodshed. At the very least, he was decent enough to offer that.

So he stops in front of the weird smelling group, one blazing eye centered upon the cat in the lead, firelight flickering within the hellish depths of that obsidian pupil. He's tall, muscular, and wrapped in old, forgotten wounds. His expression is akin to stone, and despite the blaze in his vision, that one eye remained much more likened to ice. He had a job to do, but nobody had to get hurt. Unless these cats were fools. Nathanos didn't care if they were lost and looking for a home, the rogues had enough mouths to feed already without taking in any more unfortunate travelers. "This land is not for you. There is nothing to be found here." His posture is rigid and defensive and his voice is like thunder, dripping with an underlying threat. It was clear enough that Nathanos was posturing, drawing lines in the sand, as it were. This was claimed land, after all. And unless the rogue leader decided otherwise, Nathanos wouldn't let these fools take another step without finding out why they had come. "If you've no proper business here, leave." A simple enough request.​

 

[Spiderbloom]

"Clan cats come to pay a visit, have they?"

She slinked from the shadows with grace, cold blue eyes boring into each one as she circled them from a distance before standing in front of them. She sniffed the air to catch their scent. Ah, the worms from the moors.

"So what is it, then? What has your lot wandering off their territory into the unknown....Where they have no power?" She asked, her voice smooth and cold as ice.

She continued to size them up as if they were prey.
​

 

[GHOSTWAIL]

Phantom-white shadows the larger tom, cherry-red eyes glazing over the travelers as if they were nary more than blades of grass. They are of little consequence to her, meaningless as they are not her own, but her champion seems perturbed by their very presence. To their right comes another, theirs. She flicks an ear in recognition then pauses, tilting her head slowly as the words that are spoken register in her mind. Clan cats, how droll.

"How interesting that we are being graced with a visit from our .... illuminated.... neighbors." She muses quietly to her own, though she offers little else than her burning stare to the strangers.​

- you call for peace when it suits you​

 

[Puffcloud]

(=〃ﻌ〃=)ﾉ — Crouched upon the edge of a roof gutter, pale snowy blue eyes stared down at the ground as these three cats walked through the twolegplace. They had been following them since they wondered in, and was vastly curious about them. They looked like they had a mission or something, and held themselves with high confidence. What brough them here? They smelled funny that is for sure! Then they came across Nathanos who boomed out the request of them leaving, that they have no buinsess here. Puff tilted his head to the side and hopped down from his spot upon the roof to the cold ground underpaw, "Awe come on, we don't even know what they want!" Puff objected with a small pout before looking up and over for a familiar dark pelt, "Right Nineteen? We should give them a chance!" A large, feathery tail flicked back and forth with enthusiam. — tags​

 

[CRIMSONVEIL]

“Good to know you think we smell bad.” a monotonous tone rings out as Sangria appears, muscular shoulders tensed as always. Her heads empty for once, no more screaming of insecurities and she finds that for what feels like the first time she can fully focus on these strange cats that so foolishly stepped over the line. What were they even doing? It was a pathetically sized war patrol if she ever saw one and a small laugh leaves her mouth, fangs parting in a large smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Normally she doesn’t speak, and she knows that after this interaction she probably wont for a while, but its nice to milk it while she still had the chance.

Puff speaks up, which caused Sangria’s tail to twitch slightly, moving over to bend down to speak in his ear. “Clan cats usually mean trouble.” she had a heavy dislike for them (when does she not dislike anyone, its instilled in her, to do her duty, no distractions), but she moves in front of the smaller tom with a calm face. Attack, attack, she almost dares them too, to dance with the bloodshed that their clans had so graciously brought (oh she heard of that great battle all right). Leave, it rests on the tip of her tongue but she does not say any more, only stares them down, sizing them up.

 

[Gin]

Forest green eyes narrowed from around the shaded overhang of a derelict old shed, the tom's pale paws were crossed over one another and his head tilted up and back to view the strangers with guarded curiousity and annoyance. It took a moment of silent staring, listening to the other vagrants voice their hostile and uneasy opinions of the strangers before it became apparent who they were when the scent caught him at last; clan cats. Most rogues knew of the new and strange groups that had formed out in the forest as of late, not quite unsimilar to the colonies that once held their home there prior but much more complex. There were more than two this time (five if he recalled correctly?) and they had a fascination with the skies so obscene it was a wonder they didn't trip over their own stupid paws as they walked in out of ignorance to the earth beneath them. The brown tabby rose to stand with stiffly popping joints and a scowl on his maw that made his approach all the more intimidating despite his age, the muscles under his pelt rippled with each confident stride forward until he had come to a stop opposite Sangria with Puff perched between them.

"What do you want?" It was boldly asked, leaving little to no room to the understanding that his question was anything but a demand and one that would be met with fierce hostility if not responded to or given an answer he deemed appropriate. With one tail flick in a silent demand the entire pack of them would be upon the strangers, he glanced briefly across them all and realized Nathanos and Spiderlily were already there; they'd make short work of the clanners alone but he could hear the rustle behind him of the other rogues striding forward as well.
​

 

[ODETTE]

---

---

"My my, a little far from home aren't we darlings?"

Seemingly materializing from the shadows, as per usual, is Gin's current personal assassin; Odette. Beautifully patchworked monochrome highlighting mismatched yellow and deep amber eyes looking down on the small patrol from a nearby broken windowsill. It seems everything about the molly is long and willowy, her legs, her tail, her torso....but perhaps most importantly is her teeth. She speaks through them with a practiced elegance that almost seems to show them off, or perhaps that is just the way her minute accent makes her maw move.

Then of course, Gin has to come along to throw his weight around. 'His predictability always makes him easy to play with, at this point its a bit boring.' Odette muses to herself, laying her head down on neatly crossed paws to continue observing and appraising the new toys. The only one she finds any worth in looking at is the silvery molly they've brought with them, the other two a rather plain shade range of browns. 'Hmm....the younger one is leading, either he's got his head in the clouds or those two respect him. They all look a bit uncomfortable....maybe he's not the big boss...these are just pawns. Someone else's toys.' A horribly wide grin begins to snake across her lips at that thought, and she begins looking more like a snake than a cat. ​

---

---

 

[WEASELCLAW]

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮​

The Clan's foundation is strong, in Weaselclaw's opinion. Sootstar is their queen, their lifeblood, the stone heart beating beneath their camp and at the core of WindClan. Duskfire, her second-in-command, is a capable young tom, one Weaselclaw has come to respect, even if begrudgingly. He and Hyacinthbreath are there to back them up, let those who would oppose their leader know that they would have forces to reckon with.

But the rest of the Clan has withered and died on the branches. They've seen cats rebel against StarClan, have seen blood shed in their camp, and are frightened. Not frightened into loyalty, but into something untamed and potentially deadly. Sootstar can see it, and so can Weaselclaw.

They need WindClan to fall back under her paw. A Clan at war with itself will never thrive. Surely, Weaselclaw thinks to himself as he pads behind Duskfire, StarClan would not want that for them.

The Bengal remarks that there's a hint of dog on the wind, and Weaselclaw agrees, nose bridge wrinkled. "This place reeks worse than ShadowClan," he grumbles.

Almost as soon as the words have left his maw, there's a cat pouring from the fenceline to greet them. One-eyed, scarred, the single remaining eye cold as sunlit ice. "This land is not for you. There is nothing to be found here." The tabby snorts. "You think we're here for this dump? You can keep it." He lifts his tail slightly, as if to show they are no threat, though his fur begins to bristle as one by one, countless rogues begin to emerge from the shadows.

Weaselclaw's blood is cold. They are heavily outnumbered, should these cats choose to attack them. He curses under his breath, unsheathing his claws and meeting each rogue's gaze with courage. "We haven't come here to fight you or steal from you," he reiterates. He looks at Duskfire and Hyacinthbreath, urging them to start talking -- and fast.

- ,,​

​

 

[✧ Branchfall.]

GOT GUMMYWORMS STUCK IN MY TEETH​

shoelace | 18 months | female | she/her | physically medium | mentally medium | attack in bold red​

---

Just happy to be there as always, Shoelace is lightning quick to dart over, the mangy feline almost twitching with energy. Bright amber gaze glints as she peers around the bigger forms of the group to get her first glimpses of the so called 'clan' cats - they don't look much different than themselves, though really, she's quite sure they smell worse than any of the loners. Rocking back and forth on white socked paws, she doesn't say much, her manic energy stalled simply by not knowing what's actually going on. Head cocks to the side as the brown one speaks - though there is another brown one, he isn't speaking and therefor beneath her notice - and a bright smile graces her face. "If you're not here to fight 'n steal, then what are you here for!" she chirrups in a kittenish voice; words playful.

 

[MAGGOTCRAWL]

The smell of moorlands surrounds Maggot - a scent usually absent from the land he calls home. Heavy with the scent of feline, void of the coyote scent that had him on alert.

Clan cats, he realizes. The troublemakers, fighting over parts of the forest, splitting into group upon group with their funky little names. Which clan were these cats from, that it stunk up their own land so much? DirtClan, he decides.

The scarred tom pads forward to join the rest of the crowd surrounding the DirtClanners, green eye narrowing at the patrol. The brown tabby before them - a chatty thing, the only one that speaks to them - insists they're not here to steal their land - a surprise, really, with what he's heard about clan cats. Not to fight or steal either. Then why? Something's off. The group doesn't need more to deal with.

"Just here to burden us then?" he asks, claws unsheathing in preparation for what may come. He doesn't trust them, doesn't trust their presence.
​

 

[Coldsnap]

retagging @hyacinthbreath as per request <3

 

[hyacinthbreath]

♚ Hyacinthbreath was born from a place that reeked like this; blood and guts spilled to the ground as an offering to the Deity. When one is faced with something that looks like ones traumatic past, their first instinct is usually to run. Hyacinth finds no comfort in running- in the way these rogues and loners all gaggle about like a bunch of useless hyenas. Odette, a cat she doesn't know, is eyeing her like she's some sort of prize amongst the other two toms she's with. Her eyes narrow in return, tail lashing behind her.

One does not fear the eyes of death if one has seen it up close and personal.

"You all look like you'll starve to death in the next few nights." Hyacinthbreath bluntly throws out, moving her body to stand in front of Duskfire and Weaselclaw. They could eye her all they wanted to, but the glances of bloodthirsting hunger towards those she considers brothers isn't taken too lightly. Scarred face twists into something similar to suspicion, the molly taking a second to make eye contact with her brothers of blood before she calms.

"We're here to make an offer. One where we both benefit." She offers with a stoic expression. She's been in this position before, bargaining with a group of cats who'd rather feast on a good battle than to reason. Her eyes pick out behaviors rather quickly, and the authoritative tone and posture spoke of confidence. These cats respect and fear this one, he must be the leader of this ragtag group. "I'm sure it's polite to offer our names as a sign of goodwill. This one's name is Hyacinthbreath." She introduces herself in accented hum, tail-tip flicking side to side. Her paw then gestures to Weaselclaw. "Weaselclaw," Then moves to Duskfire, "Duskfire." She finishes then, business as always. Diplomacy was more her thing than fighting, unlike the two behind her. She was a smart mind, intuitive and manipulative at the same time. She only hopes it helps in this situation.

With that being said, Hyacinthbreath steps away from Duskfire and remains in front of Weaselclaw instead; allowing the Deputy to begin his proposal. She would chip in when needed, but she wanted to see how Duskfire went about this. ​

 

[ODETTE]

---

---

There is poorly hidden delight in her gaze as the newly claimed 'Hyacinthbreath' narrows her eyes, taking almost complete control of the situation.....and then stopping. It tells her everything she needs to know in a single moment; these three hold power but the youngest, Duskfire, is some sort of leader. 'Now there's interesting. Is it his size? No...Weaselclaw and Hyacinthbreath are obviously older, if they really wanted to they could kill him through experience and numbers. It wouldn't be hard to say it was one of us if killing is a problem...' She quietly taps a claw on the wood under her, picking apart their stances, words and actions from the moment they decided to step foot in the area. Then she focuses in a little bit more as the molly moves in front of the toms, clearing her vision a bit more. 'Or..maybe they cant even if they wanted to.' Littering her fellow bengal is a trophy case of scars and toned muscles, far, far more than the other two cats. 'Respected for his strength, perhaps his strategy...but he's not the mastermind. Those other two wouldn't need to step in if he was. What a delightful little puppet he must be for his master.'

Having been a little distracted, she hasn't paid much thought to the idea that her fellow rogues are visibly starved, some half dead. Enough that it had reached all the way down to the amusing little clans themselves. 'If that's the leverage....' There's a distinct confidence in the way her tail sways behind her as she realizes it, having to silently choke back laughter. 'Don't tell me....the clans can't have gotten that desperate yet have they?'[/b]​

---

---

 

[Nathanos]

HELLO, MY NAME IS MR FEAR​

---

As more rogues gather, the tides seem to turn. The intensity of the situation was heavy upon the biting air, but the one eye of Nathanos is as unrelenting as a wildfire. Even as the clan cats begin to speak, to utter that they have not come for bloodshed, one dares to point out the desperation of the skinny framed rogues. The towering tabby couldn't deny that they were struggling, but starving as they might be, one wrong step would end the careers of every clanner present. For their sake, Nathanos hopes it doesn't come to that. As for their offer... well. He had heard only whispers and rumors of the clans, but he can't think of anything they might offer that was appealing, except perhaps their land. The tom very much doubts that the patrol is here to give away their territory, though. What, then? He's curious, but not optimistic. At the very least, he'd hear their offer, so long as the rest of the rogues could hold their claws in long enough to listen.

Names are given, as if that should lighten the mood. Nathanos still wears his expression of stone, but he does speak his name in simple reply, "Nathanos." The tom greets, little more than a professional gesture, not one of friendship nor aggression. If this turned into a fight, he would not hesitate to rip his nails across the flesh of these clan cats, but for now, it seemed they could be civil enough. Time would tell how long the unsteady peace would last.​

 

[Duskfire]

I WANT SOMETHING JUST LIKE THIS​

---

There were more cats than he first anticipated there'd be. When Sootstar had sent them out to recruit rogues, he hadn't expected them to all be grouped up together like this. Wasn't that why it was called the Loner Lands? Maybe it had something to do with that dog stench? Duskfire didn't know what a coyote was, but he knew a predator when he smelled it.

The majority of the cats present looked to be in rougher shape, still strong and healthy, but as if they'd been struggling lately to feed themselves. Hyacinth was quick to point it out, stepping forward to set things up for him. He was grateful for her help, both of them knowing that Duskfires background hadn't left him with much experience talking to other cats. Still, he'd do his job as he he'd been ordered to, and when his clanmate stepped aside to turn the rogues attention toward him instead, he didn't keep them waiting.

"My friends and I come from Windclan, where the hills are lush and teeming with rabbits and birds. We live as a group, providing for and protecting one another. If you can't hunt, someone hunts for you. If you get hurt, someone heals you. We all contribute, and we all benefit." he explained, knowing this would be old news to some, but equally aware that some of these cats would have no idea what a 'clan' was before this moment, and for what he and his friends were doing today, it was kind of important that they knew at least the basics.

"Windclan is already strong, but our leader looks to make us even stronger. In a weeks time she'll make the journey here to meet you all for herself, and each of you are invited to return to the moors as Windclanners. You'll have access to the territory, the prey, and all the benfits that come with, so long as your willing to give her your loyalty."
​

---

windclan deputy - male - 21 months - single - tall, strong bengal tomcat

 

[Gin]

He snorted at the introductions dismissivally, he didn't care these cats names or their purpose here. They came from the clans with some vague promise of prey and land so long as loyalty was sworn and their diginity was stripped away to worship whatever nonsensical star gods these fools believed in. The brown tabby's tail lashed as he stepped forward a little closer to Duskfire, green eyes narrowing and offering the deputy a sweeping and critical glance; he was young. Already second in command to this group was he? It didn't leave much confidence in whatever weakling lead it if their second was so naive.
"You take us for fools then? What desperation has driven you to our lands? You say you're strong, but does your clan not have enough cats or are they all useless things unable to feed themselves and so you seek our labor? It's true....with the coming cold there is less prey in this barren territory." The tabby's muscles tightened as he strode forward closer, leveling with the WindClan cats and lowering his head enough to meet their gazes; he was a massive tom and he knew that towering over them would only expose his throat. "But why then wouldn't we just take what we need from you? If you require cats then surely it means your clan is...woefully unguarded and easy to claim. Perhaps your strength is just numbers...whereas ours is in skill." There was a flicker of white across his maw as his teeth flashed in a visible sneer, a cold and calculating stare from the deputy to both these other warriors who were assumedly of important rank as well. But though he wanted nothing more than to kill these three and press onward into the moorlands to investigate what drew them out-he looked around and saw the hunger gnawing in the eyes of the other rogues as they listened intently to the promise that would come once in a lifetime. They were all fools, but out here he had control. He would lose this edge, this authority if they balked to the clan's demands and entangled themselves with their lives. If he made a decision now, knowing it would strip hope from the lot of them, they would all turn on him in a heartbeat. No. There needed to be some level of discussion.

The old tom gave a huff of annoyance, "I'm Gin, acting leader here. Return on the next moon with your leader and we will give you our answer then." He wanted to see what this Moorland Queen looked like, what she might have to add.

​