thousand-pierced

[thousand-pierced]

A camp sets before him, little protection from the frigid cold or the storm thundering at his beck and call. He almost had not seen it as he walked the lands he had helped create. The Volibear continues forward now approaching the little camp. His gaze draws towards the warrior as he lifts his blade and stands on unsteady legs. There is wild in this one even though he holds a manmade weapon instead of using the claws he surely has at his fingertips. The Volibear lets loose a great laugh and the sky above ripples and roils with thunder. 

“I am not here for your food.” His voice rumbles like an approaching storm.

( closed starter for @thousand-pierced )

Viktor has set up camp there in the tundra, roasting a recent kill over his fire.  Such things can be fairly few and far between out here, and because of that, he is rather protective of them.  Just because the approaching creature is much bigger than him does not mean that he is not going to stand and fight.

Grabbing a hatchet and rising to his feet in a clumsy, lurching way, he holds the blade out, threatening.  “None for you.”

[thousand-pierced]

The thunder ROARS!

[thousand-pierced]

The world waits with held breath. Something comes on the wind. Battle.

[thousand-pierced]

ira-sturm‌:

“The best approach to crush this opposing force.  It would cause plenty of confusion, which would only aid in the advantages we possess.”  As she was speaking she toss the halberd up a bit, catching it’s handle to hold it more like a javelin, before taking a few steps forward, and allowing the whole of her form and muscles to work in unison as they twisted and contracted to launch the halberd off towards one side of the target they approached.

Turning to face the bear.  “I suppose I will take the left side.”  Was what she left the fellow being of the storm with before, her form lit up with electricity, and in an instant she was gone, riding a bolt of lighting that only now showed it’s connection with the weapon she had sent flying.  Her form catching up with it, moments after it would land, shattering into the earth, leaving a distinct static in the air, and a few corpses already, her strike was indiscriminate and anyone but the bear would be struck down by her

His laughter in response is but the song of a storm. The stormclouds on his back darken, as a crack of thunder roars out and a strike of lighting splits the sky as well as a entry way before him. He approaches slow at first before he takes off at a run, the ground shaking as he unleashes a roar, barreling through the remains of the gate and sweeping out his arm. Lightning crackles through each terrified guard as he swipes them with his great claws. 

The thrill of storm and battle sings in his veins as he rips through the puny defenses on his side. A competition to prove themselves worthy of learning names, but these warmbloods are pathetic creatures. Their bones crunch with a single swipe of his claws their lines already as broken as their bodies. The red of their blood stains the snow as he takes another great swing. Raising a bloodied claw he calls another strike of lightning from the sky, to split the main building in two.

[thousand-pierced]

ira-sturm‌:

Her size isn’t comparable to his, those she still stands imposigly compared to the mortals they would face.  Surely despite the approach of the duo, their foe wouldn’t be so foolish as to assume they had the advantage due to numbers.  Hopefully they would us their wits and make this engagment far more enjoyable with some tactics involved.

Regardless, as she walked, she held her left arm out as a bolt of lighting struck down next to her.  Once the flash was finshed, a smoking weapon, a wicked, but simple looking halberd present in her grasp.  She could use more of her abilities to a more precise degree when she had a catalyst to utilize.

“Would you like to strike first, or shall I?”  She would finally speak as they appraoched closer towards there goal.

The smell of lightning lingers long after her weapon has formed. “Together, we are equals.” He rumbles in reply, where as many are beneath his strength. He can recognize a being with incredible power and though she may not measure of to the unfathomable power of a god. She still holds much of it. 

In war, all things are equalized. All things bleed, even the land it it’s own way. “Should we split our approach? An attack from two sides that we may test our metal?” He has little worry of them failing. The warm-bloods are ill prepared for a storm, let alone two.

[thousand-pierced]

cutmystrxngs‌:

A bear stroking his chin was not an everyday sight - so strange that it burns into her memory. She will remember this moment, she thinks, many weeks from now at an innocuous moment. So strong is the impression he gives. She will remember.

She nods back, then puts her hand forward against his chest. The land greets you, Volibear, as do I.

A hand presses to his own great chest, the true ice in parts of his body lighting brilliant blue in his own acknowledgement. The Vorrijaard too greets you. There is a rumble of thunder, off in the distance. A storm following him like a puppy follows its beloved owner. 

The storm-clouds upon his back crackle with lightning, not meant to be threatening but simply there. 

Opens arms. Need a hug?

These aren’t things she needs anymore. The person she used to be, the child that gave love to a bear in the woods, the woman that dove into snow and storm, there is not much left of that person.

She just stares.

The touch, the love, the acceptance of others - resigned to receive none of it and having lost recognition of it, she only crosses her arms and stares. Without words, he looks no more than a T-posing god, and she isn’t sure what to do with that.

[thousand-pierced]

He lowers his arms, head tilting to the side as he considers the now grown cub. Time has changed her, as it has all things. The world has changed as well. The ways of the old Vorrijaard have been forgotten.  The howl of the wind and the roar of thunder ignored. They have become weak, but she? She holds herself like a wounded warrior. Waiting for a battle.

Or perhaps he simply projects. He strokes his chin and nods to her in respect. Such strength oozes from her.

Opens arms. Need a hug?

These aren’t things she needs anymore. The person she used to be, the child that gave love to a bear in the woods, the woman that dove into snow and storm, there is not much left of that person.

She just stares.

The touch, the love, the acceptance of others - resigned to receive none of it and having lost recognition of it, she only crosses her arms and stares. Without words, he looks no more than a T-posing god, and she isn’t sure what to do with that.

[thousand-pierced]

[thousand-pierced]

ira-sturm‌:

She listened to the list of titles this being had been given, or had given themself.  Remaining quiet she would look over his form, taking in the sheer strength and durability it displayed passively.  Truly a beast with working with if she ever saw one.

“Very well, we will trade names when our conquest is complete.”  She didn’t normally team up with others, prefering to remain isolated in her ways, but this being, something about it…called to her.  She couldn’t scrath the feeling that a deeper kinship was shared, and it only made her more and more curious..

The Volibear grunts in acknowledgement as he raises his claws towards the sky. In the distance, the skies darken with storm clouds. Lightning crashing into snow. “The storm will herald our arrival.” Hints of his snow white fur shine beneath the sheen of  old blood that seems to turn fresh. It is is if this call to battle reinvigorates him to his true self.

Valhir starts towards the fort. His steps thundering like the storm before them both. The time for words between them is over. Names will be exchanged after the ruination of this civilization. When they have proven themselves worthy to each other. With his great size, every stride brings him ever closer and in the distance he sees it’s spires. Two against hundreds, a fighting chance for the warm-bloods.

Perfect odds.

[thousand-pierced]

ira-sturm‌:

The mere presence of this being would overhwlem most, and to a degree, almost her as well, but she stood firm.  Her own claws flexing a few times at the offer this creature thrust her way.  It was a tempting one, and one that could test her might, and prove her worth to a being she could consider equal if not greater than her, but she wasn’t one so inclined as to accept orders from those she didn’t know well.

“Tell me your name, beast, and then I will offer my fury as assistance in wiping the slate clean with you.”  So she compromised, both in keeping pride intact, and accepting this oppurtunity.

“I am known by many names. The Ruin, The Thousand Pierced Bear, Carver of the Five Fjords, The Greatstorm, The Thunders Roar, those who follow the old ways would know me as The Volibear. As for my true name, prove yourself to be worthy Storm of Fury, and I will tell you it.”

A great many of the blooming eyes close like they had never been. “I would ask your name Storm of Fury, and if you wish to give no answer then let us both prove our strength to the other before we speak further.” He knows enough, she has the strength of a storm within. He can feel it beneath her skin just as sure as he can feel it beneath his own. He stands to his full height. “The wind howls for battle.

[thousand-pierced]

@ira-sturm liked for a starter.

“The warm-bloods have forgotten the ways of the Vorrijaard-” Maroon blossoms like flowers across his face. An impossible amount of eyes slitting open to track every movement the Oni makes. “I have witness you. You call yourself wrath-” There is a creak of metal grinding against metal as the swords in his back rub against each other with the motion of his arm. “And I am inclined to believe it. A storm of fury-” 

He steps from the storm clouds wreathing his form in this storm of his creation. “Of destruction. I have a proposition for you storm of fury. There is a fortress, one that thinks themselves beyond the old ways. Destroy it with me, feel the crunch of bone, the drip of blood-” He offers his great hand. The press of his ancient existence all around the two of them.

[thousand-pierced]

like for a starter

[thousand-pierced]

He gives a rumbling laugh. “A fierce little warrior. One far from home.”

He picks the impossibly tiny creature up, how can a thing of this size possibly survive?

bork!! bork bork!! >:0

[thousand-pierced]

The ursine crave more violence, he can feel their writhing hunger curling with his own for it is his own. He will return to his full strength and that woman-Ancestor to one of three will be the key. Her hunger for war is his boon.

[thousand-pierced]

I made this volibeart fanart, cause he is so fuckin coool.

Baby gimme that wendigo .