Birds of Prey(closed)

[babygurll1968]

For centuries the flight of the avians have been told in stories and legends..holding a spot through every turn of events. Over the centuries a race of species has emerged from this breed. They have evolved into a half breed species of avian and human. Beautiful women with the bodies of humans but the wings and abilities to fly of the avians. Almost a cross between the amazons of old and the birds of prey. Mostly a female society they do occasionally take human males from nearby villages for the purpose of breediing and slaves.

The speciees is kept alive by the offspring they produce from these unions,unions of convienice more than emotion. This certain night had a small band of the women moving through the tops of the trees,flying silently and gracefully over the leaves and branches. Several called out to the others as they spotted what they had been looking for..a small band of horses hobbled next to a small stream. Several men lay nearby guarding the animals,others were scattered about in bedrolls. One flaxen hair beauty,her eyes piercing the dark let out a shrill cry and swooped downward.The others followed,a red haired beauty close by the flaxen haired woman. They moved almost as one,as did the others that had paired off.

The cries startled the horses causing the men to stir,fumbling in the dark for their weapons. They had no chance as the women attacked quickly,their talon gloved hands clutching and tossing them to and fro. Daggers were pulled and some men fell to the ground in the pools of their life's blood draiining out around them. Rayvn,the flaxen haired beauty,landed in a crouch near one man. his eyes met hers in a silent challenge,her lips moved up into a smile. her hand lifted a razor sharp dagger in front of her,she didnt look away from him as she charged.

Her dagger sliced across his upper arm drawing a thin band of blood,her fist curled,connected with his chin. She watched as his head snapped upward from the force of it. He didnt drop like some of the weaker men did,this was a good thing for him. He would be spared and taken back to their city in the trees,used and bred out. She spun around ,her body a flurry of motion. Her hands deflected punches he threw at her,several making contact with her body. She shook them off and finally managed to subdue him in a series of knotted ropes.

She stood over the captured man and looked at her sisters. Each of them seemed to have found a man to capture,her eyes searching for her sister at heart. She frowned when she didnt see her,then she heard her still fighting with her chosen man. Moving away from her capture,Rayvn moved to see if she needed any help and grinned when she saw she would not. "Nice job,Sister. I think we all managed to do very well this trip."Rayvn spoke softly to her as she waited for another group of women to arrive and begin to cart their prisoners away.

Hugging her sister and smiling at the others she nodded and they all launched into the sky,heading back for their tree city. Escape would be impossible if the men tried to escape for the only way down was to fall to their deaths or be flown down by one of the women. Soon all was quiet once more in the forest below,the inhabitants of the forest once more going about their business.

http://i814.photobucket.com/albums/zz61/babygurll1968/91560.jpg

 

[Rayne_Clowd]

Brahminy Kite

Brahminy Kite or Brahmi as her heart sister Rayvn calls her, is an Avian. A tall strong redheaded bird woman, One who even without her impressive wing span would be daunting to any mortal man. She was muscular but curvy with large breasts and she embodied many traits similar to an amazonian, at her core she to was a warrior. Brahmi thrived on the hunt, she loved staring into the eyes of her prey and watching the realization that hey where completely at her mercy sweep over their face.

Her lips curled into a smile as they soared through the night sky searching for the camp the scouts had found earlier in the evening, by now the men would be sleeping and dreaming of bow legged women whom they longed to deflower and soon they would be on the end of her sword or sliced from her talon. Not many men survived these raids, only the strong or desirable where taken as sex slaves for the Avian's the rest where left to rot into the earth.

The men taken as slaves were used to bare children and to service the city of Dendra. If the child was a female she was coveted and educated in all the skills an Avian need to survive. If the child was a male, then he was killed. This was the brutality of the Avian life, it was too threatening to have a winged male child who could grow to threaten the city and change the way of life within Dendra.

They have seen it happen in too many cultures to risk it, Where the men ran supreme. Aside from the raids the avians preformed to keep their race alive and the occasional war that had spilled over into their way of life. They were a calm race who preferred to stay within Dendra and the skies of the mortal world.

The war cry came from Rayvn breaking Brahminy's train of thought and the women swooped down into the camp startling the men from slumber and acting like angels of death. Brahmi circled a clearing her sword drawn in one hand and her talon raised in the other, she locked eyes with the camp guard who had been sitting just outside the camp. He had honor and was gutsy she would give him that, rather then run to spare his own life he had been heading back to the camp at a run with his sword drawn and trying to alert and save his fellow travelers from the Avian attack but Brahmi had stopped him in his tracks.

He was strong he will be a good mate she thought with a snarl as she swung her sword and it clanged against his sending sparks into the night, she felt her sisters mind tug at her own. This skirmish was taking longer then it should, in truth she had been enjoying herself as they sliced and parried around the clearing in a warrior dance "I am fine sister" she channeled back and with a leap into the air and a spin caught the traveler off guard. It was common for mortal warriors to be thrown by this move, they were not accustom with flight.

Brahmi struck out with the hilt of her sword and collected with the side of the guards head with a sickening thud, he slumped to the ground with a groan and Brahmi grinned towards her sister before bending to secure her captive.

Once the mortals were secure the Avian's descended into the heavens and headed for Dendra, carrying their roped prizes between two of them. If the men struggled it would be foolish for as they say what goes up must come down.

~ Dendra City ~
http://images.epilogue.net/users/randis/ahy.jpg​

 

[sombrablanca]

(Waiting for a reply to a pm I sent Arcane. At that point this'll be editted n post put up.)

 

[sombrablanca]

Warborn Warbler is the name of the sentry Brakmi spots running towards the camp. He is the youngest warrior of the Lahkota, or Horse People ever allowed to go on these horse trading trips. This is his third such. The reason? The same reason he is called Warborn. The day he was born this one reached out, trying to take his fathers Kusarigama ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Kusarigama.jpg but halve the haft length. And chain is at end of shaft.) and War Bow. His father had just come from a rare battle the birdwomen lost in great part due to his father killing their war leader.

Even as a child his voice was sweet, his cries musical. At age one he spoke his first word, though it came out kusawigami. At age three Warbler cut his palm deeply on the Kusarigama. His mother started to freak out a moment but his father said "Wait a moment. See? He does not cry." The infant then looked to his palm, then the weapon, face tight with pain. He licks a little if the blood then coats his face, trying to replicate what he sees on his Father frequently. He never cuts himself with it again either. He has learned and learned well.

By age six he can use the weapon as well as all but his Father. It is an odd weapon, not of the Plains. His tribe adopted it may summers ago though. It is not as highly priized as the sword or bow, but they is no shortage of those who still use it.

He is running in screaming a warning at the same the horses go crazy and men begin to fall, breakig cover immediately. By the time he gets there the bow will be useless, the kusarigame as well. Deflected wrong it will kill those he tries to help. He gets closer, closer. Half the men are on the ground, not moving, most still in their bed rolls. Those on their feet are outnumbered two to one, half asleep, and in shock. They still fight though.

He charges Brahmi, swinging for her descending feet. She lifts up and back. His long flowing black hair streams behind him. His extremely long, defined legs moving fluidly. He continues forward, slicing and chopping at her retreating form. She lands, counter attacking, nearly piercing his thoat with her blade. He fights savagely, desperately, wanting to take down as many as he can before they wake him from the dream.

The fight goes on for several minutes each taking nicks, each giving them. He sees an opening, watching her flare upwards. He tries to act about to skewr her, but keep moving under, avoiding the swing and drive his sword between her ribs while she is defenceless. He doesn't count on the prairie dog hole he can not see in the shadows of the night.

The next thing he knows is the wind rushes past faster even than riding Winter, his Albino horse. They knew theyd been close, but the Lahkota have not warred with Dendra in 15 summers. Was it an accident? It doesnt matter now. They will be sex slaves, used by any who wish. While they behave and produce, are wanted by those who caught them...They live. But never walk free again, always at another's whim.b He will not live like that. He walks the dream a free man or he will wake from the dream and still be a free man. He will make them kill him. Waking himself from the dream will send him to a lifetime in a Nightmare. He can not suicide. He can make them kill him in a battle though, the best way for any warrior to die.

He slits his eyes, trying to gather what he can. Hes being held behind the others. There are only 5, including himself, still alive. The others are still knocked out. He acts the same, careful to raise no suspicion. He waits til they are unceremoniously dumped in a large hall while their gear is divvied up, spoils and trophies taken. The bound prisoners are only half watched, thought harmless. Unfortunaly for the raiders half the gear is not on the tables yet, piled near the supposed unconscious men.

Warborn frees his hands and legs quietly,sneaking to and slicing the neck of the guard silently, then doing the same for his brethren. They shall not make it out. He at least saves them the horror of the life of slaves. Now it is time for him to wake from the dream, duty done.

The women's only warning is the whistle of his kusarigama moments before bot ends strike out, sickle blade sticking out of a chest, another slumping, still staring, blinking, mouth working finishing what she was saying, spine snapped at her neck by the small weighted ball. He strikes again, yanking them back to him, the momentum reverse wrapping the ball end around another throat, his blade slicing the eyes of the woman next to the one gushing blood. Five down. Ten left able to kill him and by now they are ready, drawing weapons.

"Though I wake from the Dream today, I am a brave of the Lahkota! I shall walk the Dream free! I shall wake from the Dream free. Who tastes Wakaha Wi Casa steel next, forged by my father, Walks softly, but Draws a Large Bow?" They may be mortal, but have magics of their own. Their is a reason his father is currently head of the largest warband of the Lahkota warriors. He is wise, brave, his magic is stronger and his honor untouchable. Warbler follosws strongly the path his father blazes.

The ominous, eerie sound of the twirling weapon fills the air. "?I am Warborn Warbler, youngest son of he who killed Eagle Feathers 18 years ago. I shall wake from the Dream honorably as she did. I refuse to serve, will strike out any chance, any way, I can." The blade flashes out again and again, deflected a few times, but finding many more hits, some lethal, some bad enough to take them out of the fight. He finally reaches Rayvn and Brahmi, a morbid grin on his face, a killing joy on his face, letting the bloodthirst hone his senses, the desire for revenge tantamount. He keens his death knell, knowing the two in front of him will take him from the dream. "No prairie hold hidden to trip me this time." He ends of the kusarigawa lash out, trying to slice and crush theyre heads. "Kill me if you can. The blade suddenly veers from Rayvn's face, disembowelling the woman coming up from his side, the blood dripping, too close now to risk another throw. He decides to use hit defensively. All this in the time it takes for the spiked steel ball to travel for Brahmi.

 

[Arcane_Desires]

http://thespotlightreport.files.wordpress.com/2009/09/ninja-assassin-rain_l.jpg​

Valan Kendrick heard the changing of the guard outside, the encampment was making its way back home after an uneventful trip to search the outlands for Avians and hunt for food. The men had done well for food but had failed to spot even one Avian, it was disconcerting; where were the fabled bird women?

Valan rolled out of his bed, rubbing his eyes, he couldn’t sleep this night because it just felt wrong. Something was stirring, something was going to happen and he could feel it. He stood up and tossed the tent flap aside, the sun was rising and he knew there was only an hour left before they would break camp anyway. He moved back inside the tent and pulled his swords free, deciding to exercise and keep himself fresh. Valan had hoped for a fight, something more challenging than deer hunting but he and the small band of soldiers he led had found nothing. It was unusual, the hunter was worried.

His swords spun in each hand and diced figure eight motions, his shirtless chest bore the scars of battles long past. He was a hired soldier, someone who would work for a good day’s pay and he was expensive because he was good at his job. He was away from home a lot and he supposed that someone in his line of work shouldn’t have a family but Valan’s family was very different, he acquired a great amount of people to call ‘family’. He hoped to add an Avian one day, breaking one would be a challenge worthy of him but he’d yet to have the opportunity.

He slipped his swords back into their scabbards, thinking of the now empty home he had. Valan considered not returning at all for where was the point? No one to welcome his homecoming and no one to service his needs, he thought of his immediate family; scattered to the four winds now. There was no one to welcome him with open arms, his mother would sooner spit in his face for the life he had chosen.

Valan picked his shirt up from the bed and slipped the white ragged cotton over his head just as a small boy burst into his tent. Valan’s eyes narrowed for a moment in anger of having his privacy disturbed but the boy looked exhausted and he softened.

“Sir! Sir! They sent me with a…letter Sir! There’s been an attack!” He held out the letter as he sunk down to the ground, Valan took it and strode across the length of the tent, taking up a canteen and thrusting it at the boy before he tore the scroll open and started to read.

Attention: Valan Kendrick of the third Arm.

An attack took place in the afternoon yesterday, the second Arm came under siege during a routine scouting, we are missing several troops and several more are dead. We request the return of your Arm immediately, you are being reassigned.

“Signed…blah, blah, uh huh…” Valan muttered as he rolled up the scroll and tossed it aside, moving across the room to pack his things, “Boy.” He said and turned as the young man looked up in surprise.

“Find my second in command, tent flying a blue flag. Tell him we’re breaking camp immediately on direct orders from home and move fast!” He ordered, his steely eyes ensuring that the boy took this seriously and he moved with all haste.

Once he was gone, Valan started to pack swiftly, throwing things into sacks with little regard for delicacy. He knew it was an Avian attack for what else could it be? He also knew that he had little time or choice but that if they were asking him to lead an army; more than just an Arm, he’d be asking for a lot more money.

ooc: I hope this is met with approval, please let me know.