Posts by Sharven

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It had been sudden. It had also been unexpected, but isn’t death always that way? Had Sharven seen the signs, he might have urged his friend to the Herbs to try to seek help, but the tomcat understood that he had just wanted to let go. The hold Deathwish kept on their minds was tiring, and Pluxiria had battled hard against it. It was his choice to give up, and his choice to leave this life behind him.

It was a loss that made him very sad. A loss that was so tragic, and that would be felt throughout the Skull.

“My fellow Skull cats!” He cried out, calling the impromptu meeting. “It fills me with great sorrow to announce to you that Pluxiria has been found dead in his nest.”

There would be questions. Was there foul play? Who killed him? But the answers would be few… No one killed him. Pluxiria simply just… died.

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Oh, Bellamy... Sharven's heart broke for her, seeing the panic in her eyes as she struggled to heard him. Pluxiria's pregnant mate, and now he was gone...

"I'm sorry, Bellamy. It is true. I went to meet with him this morning and found him," Sharven said in a soft voice.

It was apparently a suicide, but he didn't want to convey this to the group. To hear the tom had killed himself would only make matters worse.

"My deepest condolences to you, Bell. I am here for you if you need anything."

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Sharven noted the celebratory nature of the gathered group and padded forward. His normal stern look of disapproval graced his grey tabby face.

"Why all this celebration?" He asked.

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He wanted to say it. Yes, Voltaire would be on the throne with him... but his voice was still not his own.

"You heard Deathwish. This is how it will be for now."

For now. Until they could find a way to over throw the hypnotist.

He watched the cats that gathered around Nebuchadnezzar. The tom had merely fainted in emotional distress. He would no doubt regain consciousness momentarily.

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"It's true, Rocket. Pluxiria is dead." Sharven replied, simply.

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Sharven wanted to fight back do badly, but he kept his silence and stuck to the script Deathwish was writing in his mind.

"It should also be noted that Rohan is missing and presumed dead."

Another Cave Warden down, he thought. At least Nebuchadnezzar and Kimba were able to take the places of those who had stepped down or been killed.

They returned together, Sharven and Kimba. The leader had need doing nothing important, just taking a well-needed bath when the Cave Warden had summoned him. Elite cats. How to take their presence was beside him at the moment, having only returned a moon ago from attacking them for no real reason, thanks to Deathwish.

"You are here for a reason. State it." He demanded, seeing as he had not heard the reason these cats had gathered. He would be slow to trust them.

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Sharven gave a gruff laugh. "Sending you away? You obviously do need to learn more about us. We would never send you away. We may tear you to shreds or keep you as prisoners, but we would never just send you away."

He gave the creamy white plume of his chest a lick while a wry smirk spread on his face.

"You may stay. If only because we only just attacked you and you are here in what seems like peace. I like an ally that can forgive and forget so quickly. What do you need to know?"

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It was time. This had all gone on long enough, and with the death of Pluxiria from all of the stress and struggle, Sharven knew something needed to be done. It seemed that the longer it went on, the weaker Deathwish's hold was on them. Every day, Sharven found new ways to let his own thoughts out in the open with out the crazed smoke tom's voice getting in the way. He was at his peak in strength, and Sharven knew it was now or never.

"You all feel it, don't you?" he asked ambiguously to those he gathered; those he trusted the most. "There is a hole in the net, and it is time to walk through."

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Sharven gave a telling smirk to Voltaire. “I am happy to hear ideas as to how we shall get Deathwish alone. We will bring him down in Pluxiria’s name and display the stupid fiend’s body for the Skull to see as a warning to never cross us again.”

Maybe that was going a bit too far, but the grey tabby had been pushed to his very limits as he endured the moons of hypnosis forced on him by Deathwish.

“I don’t want him expecting anything, but I want his death to be bloody.”

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Sharven narrowed his eyes and thought. If this could potentially heal the rift caused by Deathwish's unprovoked attack on the Elite, he would authorize what he could. Still, a piece of him never trusted the Elite and felt it all may be a set up.

Maybe this Guard was right. Their folly was in not trusting one another. Still, Clans fought amongst themselves, but it was much less frequent. Maybe it was for the best.

"Sharven, leader of the Skull," he replied. "Now, why don't you start with a few pointed questions. We can go from there."

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Sharven gave a sigh. It wasn’t a sigh of anger or a sigh of annoyance. It was a simple sigh of resignation as he began to speak about the ways of the Skull. Things certainly had change since he was a young Cave Warden, but Fortis never had.

“We believe that Fortis created everything and is the ruler of all things. He is a wrathful god who requires us to make a moonly sacrifice to him to appease him from rising to swallow us all into eternal hell.”

This, Sharven knew, was not something that had been occurring. Religion had been tossed aside, and in his heart he hoped that Fortis knew they still meant well… and that this was why they had not been devoured by his vengefulness yet. He made a mental note to reinstate these religious rites as soon as possible, knowing that many would not agree or approve of them. Tough cookies, he thought. His call, not theirs.

“We have an afterlife that we call Cekt. It can be both a hell and a heaven, depending on how you lead your life as a Skull. If you were obedient and good, you will live in eternal bliss. If you were the opposite, you will dwell in eternal torture.”

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"Yes," Sharven confirmed. "This is the religious belief we all hold..."

Or at least, we all should.

So much needed to change. As much as he hated Deathwish and his control, he had brought to light some things in the Skull that were brushed under the carpet for far too long.

"As for whom we hate the most, I can say it is, without hesitation, Boneclan. They stole our home, spoke blasphemy over our god, and made a mockery of us. True, they are neither an anti-clan nor a Clan, but nevertheless, you should never expect us to help when they are in the mix..." he paused, "That is, if you ally with them."

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The Skull caught flack with nearly every other groups of cats, both in the forest and city, for their beliefs regarding she-cats. This didn’t bother Sharven in the least. If they wanted to let their she-cats be so bold and unruly, it was well within their rights. However, as followers of Shinno’s laws and believers in Fortis and all that made Skull grand, they would continue their ways, regardless.

“You would do kindly to note that in any other circumstance your throat would be slit for challenging me this way,” he replied, noting the fierce gaze placed upon him. “However, since you are with an allied group and I have granted you access, I will let you live, unscathed.”

He settled himself, taking a seat and wrapping the long grey tabby plume of a tail wrap around his large paws.

“Our group was founded by Shinno back before Boneclan took over our land. Shinno believed, and we maintain to this day, that all cats are equal in their duties. Tom duties, however, are different than she-cat duties, and we are all required to fulfill our jobs to their fullest extent. In recent moons, under Pluxiria and Scythe, we have grown more lenient on she-cats, and this is troubling. She-cats can prove themselves to be worthy of the title Skull, and then they are treated as such. However, this is rare. Only one she-cat has ever made the rank of True Skull.”

And this, Sharven thought, had to have been largely due to favoritism. Not that he didn’t respect Tippecanoe, but she was the mate of a leader, and it was hard to over look that fact.

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Sharven shook his head, acknowledging Kimba. "Not at all. As a high position, it's only natural that you're able to answer the same questions as I am."

It was a bit more friendly and informal than he cared to be in front of their guests, but Kimba was a great Warden. He would go far in Skull, and Sharven appreciated his eagerness.

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"Voltaire is correct. Deathwish will not trounce around after a she-cat. He is smarter than that, and we most certainly are running out of time for this plan," he said delicately.

The grey tabby thought for a moment, blending pieces of this idea and that together, scouring his mind for the perfect idea; the way to take him down for good.

"Kimba's idea of a she-cat might work, but not in the way he suggested. Perhaps if we take both plans and mesh them together. We coudl use a willing she-cat, stage her outside the cave mouth, cover her in blood. Kimba, you and Nez could run to get Deathwish, claiming a she-cat had been murdered on our land by an enemy clan. This will, no doubt, get his need for attention and theatrical displays boiling - how dare another clan do this on 'his' land, right? In the underbrush, Voltaire and I will wait. When you return with him, after her sees this she-cat playing dead, we could give a signal. She would need to be strong and know just when to do it, but should could blind him, leaving him for us to deal with the rest of the way."

He turned to Nebuchadnezzar, "Do you think that this Flight would be willing? Her act would be greatly rewarded, if she did."

He waited for other to weigh in. They only had moments left, he knew. As soon as they could agree, they would plan a date and prepare paint the cave walls red. Deathwish would pay for making a mockery of the Skull.

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[fancypost borderwidth=0; border-top: 2px solid #7D3369; border-bottom: 4px dotted #7D3369][font=helvetica]Sharven nodded, acknowledging the question, but wishing the she-cat would keep her mouth shut. She was getting on his nerves.

"Four moons. They start young, and their allegiance is borne quickly."[/fancypost]

"No," Sharven said, shaking his head. "They are not allowed out of the caves until they begin training, and even after that they are only allowed out when they are training. We protect our Kits and Mothers. They are the future of the Skull."

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The evening was fast approaching. That time just beyond the early glow of twilight would help conceal the positions Voltaire, Kimba and Sharven held in the underbrush, just beyond where Flight lay, motionless.

The blood was an awful thing, collected from the weak and dying that had been slaughtered by Deathwish. It was a horrid task, but it was needed to make everything run smoothly. The crimson concealer stank as the night wind blew past them.

They were down wind. Deathwish shouldn’t suspect a thing.

All they had to do was wait for Nebuchadnezzar to arrive, his best acting pelt on, and convince Deathwish that this murder had taken place as a challenge to the Skull; on their land, at their doorstep.

All they had to do was wait.

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Sharven considered this as a crow passed overhead. The birds were coming back. This had to be a sign that the cold snap would soon break.

"This is a good idea. While they grow in the caverns, maybe a little lesson or two wouldn't hurt."

He respected the Elite for their ruthlessness. It was their backstabbing he didn't trust. Hopefully this meeting would ease the pains of watching ones back with someone who was supposed to be an ally.