There was something about this particular altar that had caught his attention. While he couldn't quite put his thoughts to words, the whole surrounding area gave him a solemn sense of the world. In the back of his head, he imagined that whoever this statue depicted was one of the last men standing in the leftover carnage of a battleground. Seeing ally and enemy dead alike all around without much of an idea as to what to do next. No matter the side you took or the alignment you chose, you could always find a sense of camaraderie in the shared experiences that had the full potential to live in your dreams for the rest of your life.

He shuffled in and out of those gathered, and as he approached the altar, he hesitated. Reaching into a satchel that draped over his shoulder, he pulled out a flask . Bouncing it in his paw a moment before he took a swig, and then laid the rest at the Altar's feet. There were no words that needed to be said. A drink between soldiers was just another one of those shared experiences that was done to drown out the echoes of the fight. At least, for a little while.  

After another moment of silence, Coran dipped his head to the familiars, turned on his heels, and left the altar behind.

NPC:

The tabby steps forward as you approach and seems to appraise your item carefully, its scarred face unreadable before it gives a nod and signals for another familiar to accept the item and move it to its new home, before turning its inscrutable amber gaze on you.

A big fluffy white cat saunters towards you and gracefully takes the flask, placing it pointedly right between the statue's forepaws. The tabby gesturing catches your attention and smaller fluffy white kitten waddles forward with a pouch. "Thank you for your help, in return we'd like to offer you a sign of our gratitude." Says the tabby, gesturing for you to take the pouch. There is a hungry look in the eyes of several of the familiars and the tabby assures you they'll make sure your precious flask isn't claimed by anyone else.

You have received:
142 Gems & Small Companion

Gemstones added to credit.

Staff: note when claimed

The scarlet and onyx blended wolf trudged across the charred and battle worn terrain. He was alone, and he walked in total silence, moving with purpose in the direction his pair of jet black raptors led him in. Reports of the strange statues of long-forgotten deities and their familiars springing up across Boreas had not escaped his attention. But where his family had all gone off to pay their respects to one of the more grisly entities, he had a far more suiting paragon he wished to offer tribute to. Saracyn arrived to the altar as sunset set the sky ablaze in a sea of fire. A fitting time, he reasoned, to be offering up his praise to the figure his icy cerulean eyes were now affixed to. Centered amongst bloodstained grass and broken weapons stood a wolf effigy carved of dark stone far larger than he had ever seen—even more so than himself or his dire father. Paws carrying him through a wet puddle of gore, Saracyn approached the altar. He paid no heed to the impatient cat urging him to hurry along. He would take his own time.

For a long moment, the Mendacium prince studied the statue's features, meeting its sneering gaze with a cold calmness that came from a lifetime of experiencing others looking down dismissively at him. The wolf stood proud, clad in its cape and armor, wearing its battle scars like trophies. Perhaps Saracyn would one day stand at his sister's side during their reign in much the same posture. At least he could hope. "You look like the kind of wolf who accepts nothing less than perfection. Superiority. Dominance. The kind of wolf I can respect." Sara approached the statue until he was toe to toe with the large stone base, then extended his smooth-edged dagger from his bracer. Pressing the blade to his central paw pad, the adolescent sliced through his flesh until thick crimson poured between his digits. Looking up into the entity's eyes with a solemn reverence, Saracyn placed his paw on the base near the statue's gargantuan paws and left a trail of blood at its feet. He signed his offering with a bloody paw print pressed to the end like a macabre punctuation mark. "Perhaps one day I'll get to meet you—when I've proven myself worth your time." Or when he'd sent enough wretched souls to the afterlife. Taking a moment to wrap his cut paw in lamb's ear for the trek home, Sara bowed his head to the entity, then took his leave.

"Saracyn Mendacium"

NPC:

The tabby steps forward as you approach and seems to appraise your item carefully, its scarred face unreadable before it gives a nod and signals for another familiar to accept the item and move it to its new home, before turning its inscrutable amber gaze on you.

A very ruffled raven hops forward and watches you intently as you cut your paw and clicks its beak as you leave your bloody mark on the stone. The cat gesturing catches your attention and red eyed rat slinks forward with a pouch. "Thank you for your help, in return we'd like to offer you a sign of our gratitude." Says the tabby, gesturing for you to take the pouch. It seems to be openly impressed with your willingness to offer your own blood and gives you a solid nod.

You have received:
154 Gems & Small Accessory

Gemstones added to credit.

Staff: note when claimed