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Tue May 26, 2015 12:55 am by Paradox

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 The History

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Join date : 2015-05-26

PostSubject: The History   Tue May 26, 2015 12:55 am

Our land was the battle field between three ancient packs with each alpha at the others throats, they took any wandering wolf put he or she into their ranks and trained them to be stone cold killers.

Malakai, alpha of the eastern pack, a ruthless male at the time who only wanted the other packs blood on his fangs. He had been feuding with the other two packs for expanding his borders for several years which lead to one of the main reasons for the war.

Azuele, the western pack's alpha, perhaps one of cruelest she-wolves to live within our forest. She was a tyrant that some feared and even more hated, her favorite game was to pick off any wandering scouts from the other packs and use them for slaves. When they outlived their usefulness, she had them slaughtered.

These two packs could not hold a candle to the third, the northern pack lead by the mighty Koltan. His pack was the largest of the three and the by far the most violent, they did not care whether you were an adult, an elder or even a helpless pup, if you didn't believe in their ways or weren't a part of their pack, you were executed immediately.

The war began as petty fights and arguments over territories and game animals, who stole what off of who's land; it built up after several years till the big blow out struck and each wolf was prepared to defend their pack's honor. No where was safe, those who had changed their minds ran like cowards to escape, brother turned on brother, and some just went completely mad before it reached its climax. If you were captured, you were slowly tortured till either you disowned your pack and switched sides or bled out, pups were ripped from the dens and killed and left on the ground or in some cases consumed. No mercy was shone on the days of war. Neither sides were willing to give up. They fought and killed till there was hardly anyone left and those who were lucky to be alive were severely wounded and ready to give up. By the end of the war, all three alphas had been killed and no one knew what to do, they were forming their own thoughts and opinions and they chose to end the long agonizing war that they had started. A handful of wolves were left, three platoon leaders and a few lower ranking wolves, they decided to instead come to an agreement that no more fighting between their packs would go on and peace was to come upon the land. They separated into three packs again, changing the names of each to signal the start of a new beginning, Glacier (Northern Pack), Apache (Western Pack) and Tacoma (Eastern Pack). The position of alpha was passed down after the wolves grew too old, too weak, too sick, and they remained at peace well through till the now at the present time.

Each generation has passed down the tales of the Great War that took place many years ago and has passed on the same customs as their ancestors, many hold old grudges but strong measures are taken to ensure that another war does not plague their wonderful forest. Most feuds are settled with appropriate action by the alphas and elders. Though not everything is all hunky dory here, some wolves go against pack law and some times wolves get killed in the heat of a fight. Most have learned to move on and keep their noses out of things but there are rotten apples in the bunch to keep you on your toes.
You should be fine out here in our woods, just always watch yourself. And remember, time does bring change...
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