○◯ Ｎ ｉｇｈｔＣｌａｎ◯○ Generation ２{Always Open, come on in!}

blubberywhales: Bloodstar : 47 moons: Male : He has snow white fur with dark, cold eyes. His paws are always stained with blood. He kills something every few days to keep his paws in that way : He is very unforgiving and cruel to thise who are not part of NightClan he praises killing with or without reason. The only time you will ever catch him acting nice is when he just finish killing some prey to keep his paws covered with blood : He was raised outside the Clan but his mother and him were taken prisoner. It was inside that he actually became inspired rather than frightened by this Clan. He became leader through hard work : none

{Thank you so much, Whale! Things like this make it feel like the old NightClan. <3 Adding Bloodstar now!}

{Shadow's original post was at the bottom of page two, and here's the follow up.}
Shadowstrike | Outer Territory Glade | Just Past Sunhigh
Shadowstrike launched himself off of the fallen tree, his paws absorbing the shock of the landing. Tail held high, he navigated the foliage marking the camp's borders. The wrong paw step could earn you a pelt full of thorns, but that was no problem. This was a path he had walked many times- each one to a separate mission. Yes, they were dangerous, and as fate often willed it to be, lead a cat to their death. The life of a warrior in the Forest of Eternal Night was tough. However, perseverance paved the way to glory. The Ambush Leader had known no other life than that of NightClan. But there, it was a natural system that proved to be unfailing. The lack of prey and the harsh conditions singled out the weak and picked them off, making way for the strongest to prevail and rise to glory. But the natural ways of separating the weak from strong was not enough. All competed for their lives, but sometimes the natural system did not always do its job fast enough. No, fate toyed with all the cats, testing them, and sparking might from them just before they were about to break. A mix of hope, will, and effort brought about survival in those seemingly frail. Life wasn't fair, but the system could always be cheated. Hope was the way to buy the decrepit another moon of life. Shadowstrike knew that those cats might have some strength in them, but would never match the purebred cats of NightClan- and therefore had to be eliminated. Of course, some would be given mercy, and be made into servants, but others were better off dead than taking from their precious food supply. The black tom-cat thought of his fellow Clan mates as conduits of death- delivering the death blows that helped move fate's intentions along. Today, the enemy rogue would follow one of two paths. Death or capture, preferably the former.
By now, Shadowstrike had reached the glade by the border, which was already occupied by his ambush team members. He looked them over, pleased by the bloodlust apparently gleaming in their eyes. One of them would be given the honor of the kill- a prestigious reward for hard work in the Clan. Dewpaw, his apprentice, showed extreme promise, and had potential to carry NightClan to further victory. He, however, had made a kill earlier; the reason he was permitted to go on the mission. Shadowstrike noted to give him another opportunity very soon. However, Hookfang looked like the best option in the group. As an executioner, he had been trained in the arts of torture and death. He shall be the one. The cat decided.
"NightClan warriors! " Shadowstrike began. "As you might have heard, a rogue's scent has been detected just over the border. The scent is fresh, and will be easy to follow. The hunt will commence shortly, with the intention to kill. Today, Hookfang has received the honor to make the kill. Now, we have a trail to follow. Let's go."

Viper watched the meeting of the Ambush Squad commence in front of her. These cats were born with the blood of murderers ceaselessly running through their veins, and thoughts of death prominent in their minds. They were ruthless. Though as mighty as the Clan were, the spirits in the sky had a greater power. They were the weavers of time and space, the deities of nebulas and galaxies. Amongst rogues, beliefs as far as spirits went were widely varied. They all formed their personal views based on snippets of stories, and tales from generations passed. But Viper knew that the cats of the Soul Lands had entwined just the right threads of the universe together to form a beautiful destiny just for her. One day, she would leave behind the vicious cats that imprisoned her. She would address no cat as "master", or serve them at their every whim that came to mind. But until then, they were simply dreams. Viper had spent moons perfecting her plans. She longed for the day that should could slip from the camp under the cover of night, taking flight out of the burnt forest to the place where she could see the Soul Lands overhead. But until then, all Viper could do was to play the part of a good little servant, and grasp her claws tight into her hopes and never let go. Giving up was simply not an option. At night, Viper could dream of a different life, invent a new, different world in which she did not suffer anymore. But those dreams were only an illusion. Nothing more, nothing more. It isn’t real. Viper allowed herself enough musings to take the edge off the emotional pain, but not in excess, as she had learned that it only deepened her sorrow once she resurfaced into the harsh world of reality. Because once she retreated from her own little world, there was Shadowstrike, and the blood on his claws, often her own. There were scars, marking her pelt, that the she cat did not feel on her body anymore, but it still stayed in her mind. Phantom pain, just another dark illusion, but this mirage couldn’t be willed away, because the past never changes. The NightClan cats knew best how to bring about physical harm, but they knew how to get inside your head as well, which was perhaps even more dangerous.
~~~

The ambush squad had now crossed the border line into territory that was untamed. Viper had never walked these lands- she had been born a captive of NightClan. As customary, she walked behind Shadowstrike. Walking in front of him would signify her being in a position of superiority, while being alongside him would imply their equality, which certainly would not fit their relation’s case. Being past the border felt like a tiny victory on her part. Even though she wasn’t here in freedom, it felt less confining. All around her, the NightClan warriors shifted their weight between paws uncomfortably underneath their facade of power. Here, there was no dominant force. No one dared to trespass into Clan territory, but now, these cats weren’t on their homeland. They were exposed. But even still, they quickly grew accustomed to the unfamiliar landmarks. There was a sense of vigor spreading, as the group anticipated the kill. The scent trail grew stronger, heavily consisting of fear scent- a reek commonly present near the prisoners. The hunt had commenced. Viper knew that blood would be spilled tonight.

{Where is everyone else?}

Scents wafted in from all directions, spiking alarm throughout Slate's body. The familiar rush of adrenaline surged through his veins, as his brain screamed at him to take flight, to escape. Avoid danger before it gets there, and try to stay safe. Natural instinct was wired deep inside his brain, something too powerful and ancient to override. Slate swung his head around, calculating the fastest route to get out. There was a tree a few fox lengths away that he could easily scale, but did he have enough time to get up its trunk into high enough branches? The foliage around him was rustling with the warning of attackers- could these be the cats that he heard whispers about? Slate had heard the rumors of fierce, ruthless cats that sought the blood of the Outerlands cats. Cats like him. Time was not on his side, and fortune had all but abandoned him. As for fate? Fate was cruel. Slate knew that his destiny was unavoidable. But now, it had finally caught up to him. Well, I'll keep my fate away from me as long as possible, if I can help it. However, it was too late. The cats came barreling towards Slate before he even had time to react. Suddenly, all he knew was claws, accompanied with the crimson liquid of his blood freely flowing, and pain. The world around him blurred at the edges, the sharp colors of the forest muting. Battle cries tore through the air around him, but their sounds was slowly fading, fading out. And so was the pain. Everything came to a gentle diminuendo, Slate's life force seeping from his heart. Barely distinguishable, a single sentence was barely registered by his brain. "Hookclaw? It is time."Slate knew what it meant. The image of a dark muzzle tainted red with his own blood, opened wide to show crimson teeth stayed prominent in his mind even after his eyes finally closed, the last he would see of this world.

(Hey, there was a plot going on in the WCF NightClan that never finished with Kestrel's kits and execution and all that fun stuff, so I think I'm going to keep the fact that Kestrel had kits, so maybe when Dewpaw has his warrior ceremony, he can have one of Kestrel's kits as a servant?)

{Yeah. That would happen before he could get to killing Pebblekit and all the crazy stuff Redheart and I planned. After Hammerclaw's death, his rogues left with him, banished into the territory beyond the border. Bloodstar took over the Clan as the rightful leader. Poor Kestrel, she's now served two leaders that have died within a matter of moons, and now a third. I keep wanting to say Burnedstar though, I got so used to that!}

(That sounds good! There' really nothing to do with the ambush anyways, just boring walking back to camp stuff. You RP Bloodstar and Dewpaw, so the ceremony will be up to you.)

noonesbeeswax : Fallowpaw : 7 Moons : Fallowpaw is a long-furred ginger she-cat with large amber eyes. Her long tail often acts like a broom and sweeps up dust and dirt. : Fallowpaw has a very rational but narcissistic perspective of things and is very blunt and dutiful. She feels a sense of responsibility towards everyone in her clan, even those older than her. Fallowpaw is especially adaptable and selfless when it comes to her family and loved ones. : Fallowpaw's mother and father died when she was just a kit.  She has no memory of them. : Fallowpaw's brother is Eaglepaw

noonesbeeswax : Eaglepaw : 7 Moons : Eagle Wing is a qray tabby tom with hazel eyes. He has a small notch on the outside of his left ear from an injury as a kit. : Eaglepaw is generally selfless but very sickly and emotionally unstable. Although he does a good job of covering it up with his affectionate and optimistic attitude, as he ages it's starting to show.  Eaglepaw would rather stab you in the back than trust you for one second. : Eaglepaw almost died along with his mother when he caught greencough but managed to survive. : Eaglepaw's sister is Fallowpaw

(I may think of that offer, post the link if possible.)

(Hey guys! I didn't realize that NightClan had been revived, but I'm super happy that this thread re-appeared! Did you make a new thread?)

{Oh okay, cool! Lucky I saw this, this is the first time I've popped into the WCRF in like a month! I'm trying to get to be more active here, and I think rebooting NightClan would be a good introduction! }

[Yes, we should go for a different, darker aesthetic for the next generation, definitely! The cats I have at the moment are Kestrel, Viper, Juniperfrost, Hawkfall, and Shadowstrike, by the way. We need some new, fresh plot to kindle RPing interest.)