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Post by Honeystorm on Aug 20, 2019 15:26:57 GMT -5
( So, in this thread, the clan is going to wake to see numerous members of BrookClan dead at the Vrachi's paw. Including at least half of Lakeveil's own family, the royal Sterling line. After being visited by the clan's deities, warning her that the clan will soon turn away from their faith, and something must be done, Lakeveil has chosen to take matters into her own paws, as with Strigoi missing, there is no Ut Religiousness to consult with. She has chosen to do this by poisoning as many cats in the clan as she can, including herself. After the clan gathers at her call, and Lakeveil issues her warning, she apparently succumbs to the poison. Those who have survived the attempt, now left without any religious or medical staff to assist them, must pick up the pieces, whether that be heeding the warning, cursing their deities for killing their families, or simply fleeing in the resulting chaos.
If you would like to kill off any of your characters, you may do so by simply including in your post cats discovering the death of any characters you wish to die. If you had an old BC character that got deleted relatively recently, and you don't plan on readding them, feel free to give them an official death here as well! )
It was a dark dawn for BrookClan. One moment, and they were heading to bed, the night like any other, and the next, the screaming had begun as the sun rose over the horizon. Dead. So many dead. Eyes wide in shock and bodies with bloody foamed mouths, crimson splattered across nests and earth, the stench of death hanging thickly in the air.
In the Sterling house alone, there was Silentheart, the well known, and well liked, former Head of House. There was her children, Cottonmouthcry, Sunbeamsting, her grandchildren in Xaria, Cerys and Ossuaryshriek, two of whom were mere Kadets. Even her grandkit, Cesare.
Among the E'Clairs was Aylik, and the Caerwyn line lost Nadia, who had been pregnant with her first litter.
Even the commoners weren't immune. Spellbinder and Ivyfang had died to the Arena Games. Amethystarmy and Ranger to whatever had killed the royals.
Cats barely had the time to process the massacre than a call rang out through the dens, spreading by word of mouth to reach even the highest echelons of BrookClan society. A meeting, held by the Vrachii at the Waterfall. They arrived quickly, with tear stained cheeks and uncertain looks, rumors already circulating about the cause. Lakeveil was a Vrachi skilled in poison, was she not?
The blue-gray feline stood before the pool, on a rock large enough to put her above the rest of the clan. By all rights, she was not allowed to call a meeting, she was not the Tsar, nor was she the High Priest, a cat able to give omens. But when there were no cats to give the omens, who was she to ignore the warning that needed to be given? The Vrachi did not consider herself a particularly religious cat, the former dedicate of Tiveronah had always been keen on doing things her own way, even before the Monarchy had existed.
When she'd been told something had needed to be done, it was only natural that it fell on her to act. She did not know these new royals, had not made allies with them. And, given the situation she had been presented with, this simply seemed the best option. Lakeveil had been given a problem, and now it would be resolved, one way or other. A rather large bunch of water hemlock sat at her paws, leftover from poisoning the clan. More than enough to poison herself and take any cats left down with her, should they choose to partake. All the herbs that could be used as an antidote to the poison had been done away with, not that most, if any, could actually use them. All those poisoned, if not dead already, would soon be writhing on the ground in pain, with foaming mouths and no hope to speak of.
There had been few cats she'd cared to spare, her brother, one of her sons, and her niece, being among those left to live. Few others had such luxury.
The clan was gathered before her now, and Lakeveil, at least for this moment, remained quiet, waiting for them to speak up, to question or accuse, to wonder and cry before she gave them her final warning as the Head of Sterling House, as a royal, and most importantly, as their Vrachi, their last direct connection to the dead and to the gods they served.
