LEGENDCLAN
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PROLOGUE ⎯
Skritch, skritch, skritch. Two more deep grooves were raked into the scarred tree's trunk. From the fresh wounds in the soft and gummy bark seeped thick, amber sap, darkening and creating a filmy layer over the exposed scar. With a huff, you padded over towards a brackish puddle, and scoped out yourself in the rippling reflection. Your once silky and groomed pelt was grizzly, frizzy, and generally unkempt; your eyes were sunken in and dulled, pupils flicking over every inch of your mirrored appearance. You tilted your head, angling it so you could see your profile and portrait. Your monotone expression shifted into a grimace, eyes narrowing at the blunt nubs of once grand horns perched that atop your head.
Horns had always run in your bloodline, your mother, your father, your siblings, even your great grandparents had horns. It was a proud thing to have in your childhood. Your family would flaunt and prance around, showing off their horns. Not many other cats minded, until humans grew interested, and trapped everyone besides yourself, and the regular felines drove you out in fear of more human intervention. You hid your horns in exchange for your freedom, dulling them down enough to cover them with your fur, and fled your home. You weren't sure what you searching for. A friendly band of misfit loners? An accepting clan that desperately needed more forces? Death? Any would of been nicer than your situation now. Sighing, you reached for a limestone rock, and began to sand and grind down the unwanted horns even further.
Once satisfied with your handiwork, you observed your reflection again. Using a paw to ruffle your fur and guarantee a cover, you were interrupted by a growling stomach. You got up to wander about for a meal, hoping it could just run across your paws and beg to be eaten. After a quick scan of the vicinity with your ears, you settled for a quick minnow instead. Stalking underneath a shrub, your orbs were met with a small reservoir with sturdy looking dams surrounding it. After a quick bound over the fence made of bound logs and brambles, you found that the strange area was filled with plump trout, salmon, and bass. Maw practically slobbering, you crouched by the sloping bank, and waited for one fish to draw near. With a flick of your pearly claws and a splash of copper fins, you had yanked a nice trout onto the bank, and preceded to gorge yourself, not caring who had made the fishing area, or who's it was.
The owners, however, were already watching, hackles bristling at the sight of the thief, who clumsily jumped back over their fence and began to walk along the muddy river bank. Two silhouettes passed across the undergrowth, and you paused, watching the line of juniper bushes. You shrugged, passing it off as a game bird pecking around. The banks grew steeper, and the river soon narrowed into a gorge. A branch snapped underneath a paw's pressure, and you froze, feet clinging on the slippery edge. With nothing immediately lunging at you, you still waited, ears perked. The ground beneath your gave away, and soon you were tumbling, claws outstretched for anything to snag on, tumbling into the rapids of the gorge.
There was the vague sensation of currents tugging at your fur, teeth clenching at your scruff, salty and burning air rushing into your lungs, being dragged across the forest's floor. Your eyes peeked open, vision blurred. The marshy sky and treetops passed, and the harsh sun made you wince and blink, forcing you to come back to your senses. You began to struggle, pulling yourself away from your rescuers and captors. With no time to turn round and confront them, you were tackled and pinned, the only thing you could see clearly were the gleaming ruby red eyes glaring down at you. A trident, but shrill voice rang out, erupting it your ears, "Redsnow! Whattaya doin'? Let da poor guy up!"
"Redsnow" allowed you to scrabble to your feet, allowing you to see the cat for the first time. She was a heavyset albino, with cotton-like fur masking her muscles, and her crimson eyes glistened with a sense of wit and power. The most startling feature, or features, about her were the threatening, obsidian horns that resembled that of a ram. They began at her scalp, curled around her ears, and tapered and twisted forward, framing her cheekbones. The albino didn't speak anything to you, although her blood-red orbs watched you with intensity.
Her friend was immediately in your face, her sable-colored nose a whisker-length's away from your own. The other cat could only be described as boyishly frilly. She was mostly beige, with a clean white underbelly, and an inky black mask across most of her face, and spreading down her spine in a cape-like pattern. After her turquoise baby blues seemed to watch you expectantly for a heartbeat, before chattering, "Oh geez, I'm sorry 'bout dat! We sorta had to fish ya out of de river." The unnamed cat had a pair of horns, too, although her's were much more like that of a pronghorn antelope's, reaching towards the sky and splitting into two branches, one sharply curling forwards, and the other sloping backwards.
You sputtered, remnants of your near drowning dribbling from your maw. After a hearty cough, you rasped, "Who, what are you?"
"You should know." Redsnow said vaguely, although her gaze travelled to your own knobs, no longer hidden by your drenched bangs that were now dangling in your vision. The other cat complained, referring to the first part of your question, "'Ey! We have names ya know!"
"Then what are they?" you prodded meekly, hoping to throw off the albino's burning gaze from your shameful fur.
"Well, I'm glad dat ya finally asked! I'm, da one and only, Honeystripe, and dis hot mess is Redsnow. And da only reason dat we saved your thieving hide is because you're one of us."
You felt yourself pale, and you realized that the fish paddock was most likely theirs. "Sorry. About the fish."
The two horned femmes shared a sly glance at each other, before Redsnow commanded. "Sorry doesn't fill bellies. Since, you stole our fish, you are now a prisoner of LegendClan."
"Ya, dat's right. Now ya have to come back to camp with us and straight to Onyxstar and his pyramid!" Honeystripe added, baring her teeth in a gleeful smile.
"What? There's more of you?" All at once, you were excited and terrified at what the mentioned clan would do to you.
"Ya, but we ain't hurting losers like you, we ain't cannayabawls." Honeystripe comforted harshly, slipping on two woven baskets, attached together by a vine strap held by her torso, that were filled with various berries, prey, fish, and nuts, and began to pad away. Bewildered, you remained in your spot, muddled by the strange nature of your own kind.
"Cannibals." the albino corrected, nudging you roughly with her horns to get you moving towards their camp.
Honeystripe looked over her shoulder, an eyebrow raised, "Dat's what I said. Cannayabawls." Redsnow only responded with an eye roll, busy with carrying two gathering baskets of her own, and followed behind you, as the three horned cats disappeared into the swamp's undergrowth.
LORE & CULTURE ⎯
"Hey! Honeystripe here! Onyxstar set me up to write out introductory pamphlets or whatever for newcomers. I think it's just a thing to get me off his back, and he keeps lecturing me about being an annoyance to the other warriors, but anyways, future reader, let's get to business!
HISTORY
Way back during ye olden days, right when the humans- or twolegs, nopelts, whatever- reached the peak of their advancing technological era, the geneticists began to grow arrogant and ambitious. Not much is known why they created us, or how, but we were created along with these cave-dwellers in the laboratories. Not that many experiments went on, they just sort of let the first of us, roam around in exhibits, I guess. They gave us the codename 'Hornets'. Not long after our species' creation, the whole project was shut down, leading to the site being condemned. Our ancestors just sort of packed their stuff and left, taking the files on them as well. Some of them had learned how to read simple human, so they learned how they have bigger brains than other cats, and more capacity to evolve. And that's what they did. They caught wind of the clan business floating around, and made their own, with changes, of course, to support our lifestyles. I'll expand on that, but for now, I'll move onto important figures.
Atticus ⎯ one of the first cats, he took the role of first leader
Thalia ⎯ one of the first cats, and the first medicine cat with revolutionary practices
Ida, Davy & Pad ⎯ three triplets that developed our agricultural, hunting, gathering, and fishing, and livestock systems
Legendclaw ⎯ a noble cat that died in battle during the Dividing War, LegendClan derived its name from him
Mothshadow ⎯ a tom famed for stealing away kits in the night, gave inspiration to the warning for kits to stay in their nest in the night
Azaleastar ⎯ the leader after Atticus, known for her wisdom and being the first ex-medicine cat to become leader
Roestar ⎯ the leader after Azalea, known for his acceptance of non-hornet cats
Morrowstar ⎯ the first non-hornet leader, known for being a cruel savannah cat and usurping the leadership from the previous leader, Valestar, eventually killed during a riot
Sugarstar ⎯ the leader after Morrowstar, established the ban on non-hornets into the clan, and from them ever reaching a high-rank, exiled or executed most of them
Onyxstar ⎯ the current leader, slightly more lenient on non-hornets, seeing as there is a need for diversity
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There has only been one major war, known as the Dividing War, between our neighboring clans, but no-one ever recorded the reason or results, just the bloodshed, leading to most cats developing their own theories on what happened.
BIOLOGY
LegendClan cats may have the basic appearance of a cat, but there are many key differences- mainly the horns, which I'll elaborate on later. For example, our tails are much more rigid and muscular, like an otter's, and our paws are webbed. We are also larger and taller than the classic cat, and some of us, like me, have tufts of fur at the end of our tails. Our snouts are longer and narrower, along with our claws. And, according to the ancient records, we have empty chambers in between our eyes, that are used to produce a variety of calls. That's all I can say off the top of my head, but let's move along.
Of course, our horns are what's really noticeable. They tend to take after hoofed creatures', and really only shed every four years, but grow back in a moon or two. There are three different types that they can fall under, but are never the same between two cats: skyward (growing straight towards the sky), curving (growing sideways or backwards), or antlers (forked and curving like those of the deer family).
DIET
We eat many things, considering we're 'omnivores', meaning we eat both meat and green. While we still hunt the usual, we have managed to domesticate game fowl, and keep them pens close to camp. We do the same with fish, albeit they are still wild. LegendClan also has created gardens and orchard from seeds we have traded with from other clans.
TRADITIONS
Along with the usual clan traditions, we often hold giant matches of a training game that involves sparring with our horns every first day of the week. The winner is excused from the patrols for the rest of the week, but isn't allowed to participate again until the week after the next. The only rules are no bloodshed, and the first to fall out of the marked ring loses. Beyond that, it can get gritty.
And that's pretty much it. LegendClanners ain't as different as we may seem, so I hope you consider joining, stranger. With this concluded, I'm relieved of my duties, so this has been Honeystripe, peace out."
TERRITORY ⎯
The territory consists of mostly swampy forest, with occasional meadows that stretch as far as the eye can see. The camp lies on a peninsula in the middle of a still lake, and dens are constructed out of mud, reeds and driftwood. All of our pens and paddocks are scattered throughout territory, and all are a short walk away from camp. The place is mostly flat, so it is easy for it to flood, and even easier for it to drought, but the clan gets by. There is no place of worship, as LegendClan abandoned religion in order to advance further, but any cat is free to pray to whatever floats their boat.
ALLEGIANCES & CLAN RELATIONS ⎯
current members ⎯ four toms ; eight she-cats ; twelve members
⎯ legend : female ;; male
⎯ reservations last 72 hours
leader (1/1) ; onyxstar (trickyfish)
deputy (1/1) ; bouldergaze (dream marky)
medicine cats (1/3) ; swanfur (norwegian spirit)
⎯medicine apprentices (1/3) ; briarpaw (luya)
warriors ; redsnow (trickyfish)
honeystripe (trickyfish)
lichencry (dream marky)
⎯ apprentices ; nightpaw (trickyfish)
littlepaw (trickyfish)
rainpaw (dream marky)
queens ; mossfoot (trickyfish)
⎯kits ; burrkit (trickyfish)
elders ; open
outsiders ; open
⎯ nightpaw & honeystripe are siblings
⎯ bouldergaze & lichencry & rainpaw are siblings
⎯ mossfoot is the mother to burrkit
⎯ swanfur mentors briarpaw
⎯ honeystripe mentors rainpaw
⎯ lichencry mentors littlepaw
BORDERING CLANS
⎯ AdderClan (enemy)
⎯ WillowClan (enemy)
REGULATIONS ⎯
- be kind and helpful towards others
- three+ sentences each post
- use proper grammar in roleplay
- please be active
- keep an even amount of genders
- recaps will be on the first post in the roleplay
- follow the main feralfront rules ( i.e. power play, godmodding, spamming, inappropriate posts, etc )
- be inclusive
- forbidden love is alright in rational
- no perfect characters, such as "mary-sues" or "anti-mary-sues"
- no person should mentor their own cats
- no limit of the amount of characters
- I allow LGBTQIA characters
- there shouldn't be more apprentices or kits than warriors or queens
- queens can have up to six kits
- do not purposely ignore others
- there is no special word
- reservations will last two days
- complex family trees are encouraged
- no reports of plagiarism or piracy, I will not hesitate to ban you from my threads
MISCELLANEOUS ⎯[fancypost=border-width:0px; width:425px; height:100px; font-family: estrangelo edessa; color: #7c7c7c; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; padding-left: 35px; padding-right: 50px;]NEWS BOARD ;; The LegendClan cats are prepared for a predicted drought, that is preceded by heavy monsoons, heatwaves, and wildfires. Their beloved leader, Onyxstar, is on his last life, and is dying of a collapsed lung that came back to haunt him and an aggressive case of typhus, and the deputy will soon step up to his place.
SEASON ;; the peak of summer
WEATHER ;; clear skies with a blazing sun and rolling thunderclouds on the horizon
TIME ;; late morning
FAQs
feel free to ask any questions, I don't bite!