So this was how his kind were "born". Captured, bitten and constrained to this place till all the weak died. Sickening.

Silvermoon could barely restrain his stomach's call to regurgitate everything he had filled it with in the last hour. It was a request that he almost wished to fulfill. Watching this horror show. Man turned to beast in a terrible display of raw power and great hunger. These "people" torn at their own skin, ripping off skin to have new fur covered skin grow instantly in it's place. Their bones snapped and grew in a new wolfish form. They looked like him but they were nothing close. These creatures had no mind, no soul.

Gripping the seat upon which he sat. Silver felt his claws tear into the ancient stone. Now they were no longer tearing at themselves. Now they were clawing at each other, biting each other. Killing each other. The bigger, stronger of their kind now attacked the weaker. The weaker died but not before injuring the stronger. Some of the stronger fell too. Fell to even strong beasts or more clever werewolves. I suppose this is how they ensure that the werewolf breed remains a strong one The lone wolf thought. Kill off the weak before they can breed or eat valuable resources

Silvermoon's eyes suddenly went wide. There was a woman there among them. A beautiful red haired beauty. She was transforming as well. This creature was beautiful even once she had torn at herself. Fur was as fiery as her hair and just as beautiful. The other wolves, all male had just now noticed her and he doubted they just wanted to claw a bit. Creatures like this kind wouldn't just settle for winning the fight. They'd wish to show dominance over her, claim her as their own. Their own personal plaything.

Leaping from his chair, the wolf man charged down the stairs towards the crowd below. The mob of wolves should be stopped, needed to be stopped from committing this heinous act upon her. Silver was half way there before an arm caught him midstep. It was one of the werewolf instructors.

"Woah boy, calm down there. I know you want to get in on the fun but you can't. It's only for the newborns sonny."

The "man" stood at his shoulder height but was a stocky fellow. Thick grew hair. The man was old, real old, in order to have gray hair and be a werewolf. Unless, of course, he was old when he was bit. Must have been a mean old geezer to have survived this process.

"They're going to rape her!" Silvermoon cried out, trying to get past this man. The instructor was too strong, too developed to out muscle.

"As they have the right too if the woman is not strong enough. You know the rules. We've all gone through it. We've all fought for our lives. And we were strong enough to live and breed. If the woman is strong enough she will fend them off and make them weary of her. Just watch" The old man's voice was gruff but wise.

"I remember my birthing" Came another voice. Another instructor. This one younger and more battle scarred. "I tried to force myself on a female in my wild self... She gave me this scar..." The man pointed to five scratches that spread across his face. "She was a fiesty bitch... Still is"

Silvermoon couldn't believe this. So they were going to allow it. Allow the beasts to satisfy themselves. Was it a right of initiation or was it just a way of wearing them out so that the instructors could more easily manage them? Silvermoon didn't know and didn't care. It was wrong but there was nothing this poor lone wolf could do. His clenched his claw hand into a fist. Feeling as well as hearing his joints pop as he did. This was a terrible thing.

"You're much too naive to be a wolf of Anur." came a sleek voice, smooth as oil and deadly as silver. It came from a woman, her hair tightly braided behind her in a thin sliver that reached the top of her tailbone. She bore no similarities to the transformed wolves around her, save the look of a seasoned predator that shone in her twin amber eyes. She wore the clothing of humans, decorated in black and false silver. A triplet scar ran from the top of her visible face and down her chin, across her right eye, to end just past her lips. "In this world only the strong survive, to allow anyone weaker to live would be an injustice and would cause problems." She held an aura of calm calculation about her, something that practically screamed if one looked at her wrong they'd be missing vital parts of their anatomy. She commanded respect, through fear and admiration.

"We are not savages." she commented lightly, eyeing the red haired female as she fought back against increasing numbers. The silver haired female raised a hand, glancing at her nails as she watched the fight from the corner of her eyes. "Watch carefully, there is no wrong or right, simply the survival of our species. You who question us are lacking in mind and spirit. How long have you lived in that world the humans call home?" A question that demanded an answer. Even some of the older wolves who were many years her elder knew not to question her. It was said that when she was angered, or defending her own she was near ferocious enough to cause even Marcus to back down. Though those were only rumors. The king of wolves would never backdown to a mere female. Not even one stronger then he was.

"If you wish to speak of savagry, go watch those humans whose morals you have in your head. You will find they are much worse then we could ever be, they just hide it well."

Looked like Silvermoon had merited someone's attention and from the look on the Instructors' faces. Not very good attention. This "woman" if you wish to call her that was someone of power. Or at least someone worth worrying about. This one had silver hair, like him. That was new. Didn't see that often in any wolves, not in any besides himself anyways. Her voice was cool, calculated and manipulating.

How long have you lived in that world the humans call home?

The she wolf had called him out. Silver was no wolf of Anur, he was a wolf of no land. None that he would speak of. He was merely a wolf. A lone wolf with no pack to call his own. With the way the world was turning, he never would have one.

"I have never lived in that world. Not with this body. Unlike your lot, I do not transform. I was born this way. I have only watched it and the morals I follow are those my mother taught me and if you wish to call her a savage. Then I will show you just how savage I can be. None will ever offend my mother, not as long as I draw breath."

The tone of his voice was cool, calm but with an edge. His point had to made but it couldn't be pushed too far. Not enough that he could be considered the aggressor here but enough that it would be shown he wouldn't back down in his point of view. This woman was probably his better in battle but it was better to die a stubborn "naive" fool than die a coward to let a woman bad mouth his mother. She had been a saint by raising him and he intended to let her memory be known as that.

Turning to face the silver haired one, his tensed his body. Readying it for anything that might come his way. Be it an attack by words or claw. The instructors' might hop in on her side but it was a risk this lone wolf was willing to take. Cold blue gaze cut back across the gap to her. Silent challenge.

She watched him for a little, meeting him in the staring match and watched as he tensed himself. The tension was tangible, but she ignored it, having long since become accustom to the sensation. With a snort she looked away, a clear indication she didn't even think he was worth the time. "Your mother was a savage." she stated clearly, not bothering to sugar coat her words or care in the slightest whatever the outsider wanted. "You're a savage. What are you doing here?" she did not care for this kid, unwanted spawn of luna. To be honest she was merely here to watch the new and upcoming spawn, hopefully their ranks would fill again and the pack would be whole. Almost no one knew that Marcus was missing, after the emassary from the Aesir had come. How she had found it she'd never tell.

The red head was holding her own, and only some of the most foolhardy or the most ferocious would dare strike at her now, though she was clearly bleeding from multiple wounds. Other newly turned females weren't so lucky, and there lay a good couple on the floor, with rings of males about them. Though in each ring there was one male fighting in his claimed's defense. Till a male was a clear alpha there'd be challenges, though in the all encompassing pack, there was but one alpha. Her hands fingered one of the shorter blades tucked away in her long coat, the steel mixed with lethal amounts of silver. A substance she had long since been acquainted with and no longer feared.

Lunging forward, Silvermoon's maul opened. His lips parted in a feral snarl. Teeth made for tearing, made to kill, shown in the moonlight. He went to bite her, he did not care which side he tore and shredded. Just to kill this offender of his sainted mother. None would offend her, not as long as he drew breath. It was his word and he always kept his word. Too bad he didn't make it to her.

The instructors grabbed his arms instinctively, holding him back from his prize and rightful prey. Even in human form, they both held great power. Restraining him from her, but not fulling taking him down. The men only kept him out of striking distance of her. Foolish men. Death would visit them soon if he found a way free.

"Stupid wench, blasphemous bitch. Whore! Who are you to judge?! What makes you so high eh? Think you're above the world? You are not that old yourself you stupid dog! I'll kill you! Your blood will be my wine! I swear this! You WILL die for those worlds! I swear this to you!"

The words were meant to cut deep, insult, provoke. Make her stupid enough to call off these men. Silver haired whore. May her wit be dull enough to set him free. She was barely out of his reach. Teeth snapping mere inches from that fragile neck. Oh snapping it would bring such pleasure. To feel it cave beneath the weight of his maul, to taste her life's blood. She was going to die. Die quickly but die. No, better yet. She was going to be thrown to the wild ones. Let them have their way on her broken body. Let her feel her own logic. Savage eh? Let her feel his savagery.

"Let him go." She still hadn't bothered to look back at Silvermoon. "Who am I?" she wondered out loud, not caring for the snarling little ingrate who the others held back. "I'm a daughter of Anur and I was born long before your time child. Get over it. Your mother was a two bit whore, your father a bastard, and you're nothing but a mongrel child and misbegotten son of Luna." She was edging him on now, eager for a light warm up session before she went down into the pits to retrieve those left standing. The red head was still moving it seemed, but her stamina was fading. There was an audible popping as she flexed her hands slowly, an odd habit she developed while out of Anur and in the human lands.

She had long learned the place of the werewolves in the world, children of the moon and misbegotten wretches to the rest. There was no right or wrong, simply what was best for the pack and survival of the species. She was one of the few that had survived for so long, and a person almost every wolf in Anur knew or feared in some fashion. Even those stronger then her gave her due respect. She was not alpha, no, not even close, but she was still strong. The instructors knew this, and they had held back the child wolf for his sake. She'd shattered the ribs of the last wolf pup that had talked back to her. It'd taken the healers a week to get the poor kid stable.

"You're a daughter of a dog that begged for scraps from Marcus' table. That's what you are. Think you're so high and mighty and that your kind so pure and so right in it's ways? I can't kill you..." Silvermoon yanked himself from the grasp of the instructor's as he felt their grips loosen. They looked at him nervously. SO she was that strong. "But I WILL make you remember my name!"

Teeth bared, his maul quickly closeing the distance between it and it's target. Her spine. It was the most sensible place, it was vital and open most to him. If he could but sink his teeth in that one place. This offender would be dead before she hit the ground and battle victorious. Blood would be spilled but not his. Not at this moment. Silvermoon was still needed in this world. His life still had a purpose. Though he not know it.

The red one was slowly beginning to loose, finding herself being surrounded. It stopped Silver cold. That one could not fall, not with him close by. Her or his mother's memory. His mother. No, she wouldn't want him to. Save the girl. Save her from herself and the others. Stop the madness that this woman wished. Stop it now!

Diverting from his attack, Silver turned and ducked through the instructors. Barely escaping their newly formed claws, he charged on towards the newly bit. The pair of men must have quickly caught onto his plan for they gave chase. A pair of werewolves were on his tail but not gaining. They could not keep up with him. Silvermoon was no werewolf, just looked like them. Born faster, stronger. He could take them on and win. Perhaps not her but he could take them on. Just as long he kept them from using tactics. There were only 3 threats to him currently. Her and them. Mostly her. The newborn that would try to get in his way though, they were nothing compared to him. A life time of experience and a better body ensured his survival in this fight against them.

"That will be quite enough of that. Lad." An older voice came from the entryway. A decorated wolf stood proud, his features sleek and refined, despite his age. He was clad in dark, nearly black iron half-plate. His gauntlet-worn hand rested on the jeweled hilt of his longsword. "Luca..." The guard Captain. "So many in the pit as of late, I thought we were warned not to go past Marcus' recommendations." He asked her, stepping into the pit himself.
The two other guards flanking him knelt down as he addressed her, but their spears were at the ready. Gerin, one of Marcus' own chosen. He sniffed the air around him, despite a lack of apparent lupine features, "Too much is going on. Maybe we should just cull them all. A bad batch." He sneered playfully.

It was the Law. The weak bow to the strong, but the strong must also lead the weak; overdoing it like what was seeming to happen in the pit this week looked like nothing more than barbarism, and the wolves of Anur still had their pride.

Gerin sniffed again, pointing out the little ruffian who seemed to match the raised voices he picked out on his descent here. "This one doesn't seem to be man -or- wolf. A hybrid. Why is he down here?"

"Captain, perhap.." One of the flanking guards started to speak, but was silenced with a hand gesture.
Captain Gerin let out a whistle, calling back the instructors. "Let him protect the girl. You'll help separate the newly changed, this is a holding cell, not a slaughter house. And, dear Luca..." he said with a smirk, "I've reason to believe the wolf-heir is coming soon, and with the recent...breach in security, I'll need you to tighten things up. No more of...this.." he said, gesturing towards the chaos that was filling the pit.

"The Weak would be overtaken by the Strong. The Strong must lead the Weak. Marcus would be insulted if he saw this." He nodded, not pinning the blame on anybody but those who pulled in so many, so soon.

((OOC: I'm guessing this means NPC is relieved from having to post with me? If not then I apologize from having skipped turn. I couldn't resist while I could feel the post))

There was a new comer, this one more powerful than all those before. He was strong, even Silvermoon had to admit this one's abilities. Something was in that one that made the skin on his arms and spine crawl. Felt like ticks had buried under the skin and were trying to find his heart. They were succeeding, it felt like it was going to collapse at any moment. What was wrong with him?!

The new one though, had called off the instructors. So the girl was his to protect and help separate from the others. With a thankful nod Silver entered the pin and the fray.

"Who's first..." Silvermoon chuckled with a sneer as he slowed down to a jog, arms spread wide for any who felt wild and crazy enough to challenge. The first contestant quickly reared it's ugly head.

One of the larger brutes. A brown haired male with larger arms than the others. Probably had been a blacksmith in his human life before being bit. Was a mean bastard with the blood he could see dripping from his claws. Big and mean. Could probably assume stupid as well.

The brute charged Silvermoon, snarling at him as it did. The creature did not wsih for further competition for the red haired femme. Silver was smaller than the creature, but he was also faster and his strength was inhibited by being new to his body. The creature had picked up moment, bad idea for one so new to the kind of feet it now had. It wouldn't be able to stop or balance itself. Not even close.

Silvermoon quickly went from jog to full out battle charge against the creatures, roaring a battlecry as he came. It was a testament to his unique blood, it was low and long. It's sound: unique. Though in this place. It sounded as though it was bouncing off the cliffs of some great mountain, echoing from inside his own maul. Just like his howl. It always echoed. Was always perfectly in tune with the song of the wild.

As Silver entered it's striking range, it lashed out with it's right hand. Claws reaching for his throat. They never came close to their target. In one foul swoop, Silver ducked under the would be fetal attack and hit it with one of his own. Silvermoon's clawed hand hit it in the knee with all the power he could muster for it. The result was devastating. The creature yelped as it was flipped into the air, blood and bone flying from where they were originally. The kneecap destroyed, creature defeated but he was not finished.

Silvermoon continued his charge at the crowd, eye on the "alpha" of their little pack. It was a grew pelted male, it was quite easy to notice. It was the largest. It turned it's head to look over it's shoulder in confusion. Trying to see what raising the new racket. The last thing it saw was Silver's fist. With a resounding crack, the creature's head snapped back. In a lazy fall it landed on the ground knocked out cold. Silver's eyes picked up the white of a large canine. So he had knocked out a tooth. That was funny. Now he had to fend off the rest of the newly bit from the femme. Hopefully he wouldn't have to fend off from him.

"My apologies" Luca replied, eyes not moving anywhere near where the guard captain was. She'd offer no excuse, since none would be taken in the first place, and stepped forward. There'd been a recent rush of new lycans for some reason, what was left was honestly the newest batch of incoming wolves. She'd let the new grounds fall this far because of recent events, something that shouldn't ever have happened. There was a soft swish of steel brushing over steel and she now brandished a quarter staff roughly her height. It was one of her favorite items to use, a telescoping staff she had acquired in her times out of Anur. The staff itself was a metal allow strong enough to withstand the brute strength of a vampire if need be, not bending the slightest despite what she'd already put it through before. Parts of it were inlaid with silver, which shimmered a little more brightly in the light, though it wouldn't be fatal the silver inlays still caused some pain.

She waded into the chaos, deft blows settling down over excited newborns. Another reason she loved the staff was that the blows she struck stung like crazy, some even for days after, and served well to settle excited pup-lings. She made her way into the center, staff crashing into the floor hard enough to embed the tip and crack the area around it, daring any of the newborns to cause trouble. Her presence was stronger now, as she let it loose to dissuade the newborns from any more trouble. It's what some of the others called her oppressive mother mode or simply her teacher mode. "All of you, through the doors into the next rooms. Males left, females right." she growled out. Technically they left them alone, but this group she'd let get too assure of themselves in the fighting so they'd have to be kept separate for now. Once she saw that the standing few were limping their way to the doors she had indicated she herself moved towards the one she had motioned for the male pups to go through. The rest that were injured would be brought for medical attention and treated before being put back into the batch. They'd probably take much longer then normal to settle in as well.

Sometimes those little things we do to vent our frustrations just come to bite us in the ass. Next time, Luca vowed, she'd just beat the living daylights out of the first idiot to bug her.

Gerin folded his arms, his lips creased with a look that would say, 'I'm not amused.' Luca was rough, but it was something he had came to rely on. He wasn't any different when he was in her shoes. The old wolf sighed, running a hand over his hair. His features hinted that he was an elf before his first change.

His attention was snapped back to reality as the newcomer let out a bestial roar. Feral, absolutely feral. Obviously he wasn't an actual werewolf, and he was throwing that around...like Gerin and Luca should be scared. "Bah, just as bad as the strongest pup in here. He thinks that he's above us, and believes we should treat him as such. Watch this one, Luca." He advised, turning to face the stairwell. This hybrid seemed to be raw, unrefined. Sure, against new pups, but to a true wolf of Anur, he'd stand no chance.

If he survived the night, maybe they could use him. Maybe he didn't want to be used. Who knew what this creature wanted. Gerin was more concerned with this 'Aran' character. So much, so fast. Things were moving in Anur, and this 'Silver' was thrown into the middle of it. "You'd better find your place fast." The Captain suggested; it was more of a friendly warning than anything.

"Find my place?" Silvermoon quirked a brow, looking of his shoulder at the Guard Captain. Slowing turning, his face became emotionless. "As far as I know Sir, I don't have one. Not here, not among humans, not among any beast. Everything for some particular reason hates me. Though I have committed no crime against any creature but yet I am persecuted as though I have murdered a god. What place is there for one such as me? A son of a two bit whore and a bastard, a mongrel and misbegotten son of Luna as one woman called me not long ago."

Walking slowly and carefully, Silvermoon approached the beast which he had destroyed the knee cap off. It was breathing heavily, obviously in pain. Tearing up some. It was not used to this kind of pain, apparently it's mind had returned to it. There was some fear in it's eyes. Poor thing. Silvermoon had overdone it.

Kneeling down next to it, he stroked the hair upon it's head softly before looking at the wound. "It's okay my friend. What I did can be undone and undone it shall be. Your body is not as weak as it once was. It'll quickly repair this wound of my design. I will help it along as best I can or I will take you somewhere where they can aid you better than I..."

Tentatively Silver touched the wound to be rewarded with a yelp from the poor creature. Guilt filled his stomach but he continued his work. Slowly he snapped the knee back so it was bent the way the knee should have been to begin with. The creature gave a restrained moan of pain. Gritting it's teeth to hold back a show of weakness. Silver looked at it approvingly. The body had already began it's work. The bone and muscle tissue was beginning to develop again where it was supposed to be. It just needed a healer's touch to be good as new and help spur it's speed.

The creature was heavy but not too heavy. Though it was indeed a bit of a burden. Silvermoon lifted it upon his shoulders. Holding the good leg in one hand and an arm in the other. The way he saw soldiers carry their comrades when they were wounded. Walking up to the guard captain he gave an apologetic smile.

"May I steal a moment of your time? I would like to be the one to take this one to the infirmary though I do not know the way. I performed the act that damaged him so I would like to help perform the act that undoes it. It's only right. 'The weak must bow to the strong but the strong must lead the weak'. I'd like to follow that motto if it is the rule of this wondrous place. It's the only place where I've seen anything that resembles me in anyway"

The Captain raised his hand, "None of that, lad. That might part of our laws, but we don't need to baby the ones we rough up. We have an infirmary, but if he truly is a son of Anur, he won't need it too much." Gerin sighed, turning to look up the stairs.
This one tried to help...So..."Very well, bring him this way." Gerin figured to just let the newcomer try his best.

"Come on, then." The captain grimaced, signaling over one of his guards while Luca 'dispensed' nice and happy thoughts to quell the holding caves. It would lead up onto the surface world, the large plazas that dotted the area outside the main citadel.

Eventually Gerin lead this 'Silvermoon' and his injured friend to a rectangular building, the interior having several beds with curtains around them. It looked like a regular clinic, except it was completely empty. "Fjer will help you with the young man." Gerin bowed, gesturing an arm towards another lycan, looking to be a priest of sorts.

It looked like the place hadn't seen serious use in a long while, the werewolves of Anur not often needing bedrest to heal their wounds.

Silvermoon followed without asking much. The captain was right. Any Lycan that breathed didn't need an infirmary to heal such a wound. It was a serious wound that would take him out of the fight but it wouldn't end him. Not in the least. Surely the Lycan's own body would heal itself long before nightfall. Damn his ignorance to this place and it's customs. It'd take him months before he figured it out fully.

This place, though a city, was still as savage as any wild land. It was true that they had laws and such but the question is. How did they interpret them? Were laws just "guide lines" or were they true laws? Were they written in stone or was the only true law "The weak bow to the strong". How did the strong "lead" the weak. By example? If that's the case then he prayed that Marcus had some sort of honor. If not. Silvermoon would find himself dead or more battle hardened that he could believe himself to be able to be.

What didn't kill you made you stronger. So were the words of wisdom. They weren't true for most but it was true for those in this place. These people could always fully heal their wounds. You had to kill them or they came back for more. You had to be alpha wolf. How did one do that without causing a lot of violence and not over stepping the boundaries? He'd find out soon or die.

Laying the wolf on one of the beds, he turned and walked away. Nodding friendly to the captain and priest. It'd probably be the last time he'd smile in a long time. Shame. "I must go now. I must find a place to stay or else I'll be wondering the streets tonight. With what I've seen thus far... That's probably a bad idea. I'm sure the average wolf here is a lot stronger than the strongest newborn I faced today... And I don't feel like taking the challenge..."

With a quick turn, he walked out the door and left. Not bothering to wait for a reply. He doubted they'd give him one. Surely he had already been marked as outcast in some sort of way. Damn the way he was. Damn his fate. Didn't matter. The mark of Silvermoon would be made one day. It was only a matter of time.

-Silvermoon has left-