I've created a YouTube channel to post the songs I sing.

Go have fun and listen to one of my favorite songs: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SDvD.....ature=youtu.be

Let me know how you like it. This is a rough draft and needs some touch-up. No video, and the microphone sensitivity needs to be adjusted.


Mort

OMG this artist is awesome. Get your free raffle prizes and pass the word!


http://www.furaffinity.net/journal/5030698/

Come get your freebies!

http://www.furaffinity.net/journal/5018718/

Ends today! HURRYY!!

Everyone, go check this out. I don't mind winning both bids so cheaply, but this artist is really good and deserves better bids!

http://www.furaffinity.net/view/11474534/

GO!!!


Mort

http://www.furaffinity.net/journal/...../#cid:35737369

Check them out! Great artwork, and a chance at a free icon!

My mate is trying to earn money to help her business grow and get her name out in the world.

Check out her latest post: http://www.furaffinity.net/journal/4990225/

And her great offer for preposes: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/11440990/

Thanks for helping out!


Mortuest

Stolen from  blaiddwolfe

Arrival and Departure:
Tuesday-Monday

Staying at:
Hilton

How are you traveling?
Murrissa

Who are you rooming with?
 karmma and maybe some other random furs that need a place to crash

Where will you be? How best to find me?
I'll be all over. Twitter me INSecurityinc or text me. You will spot me in my tail and kilt (horns/ears MIA since my move)

Who will you be with?
So many furs! I will be running around with Apple Pie booze ... *ding* NOW you know me :)

Which suit(s) will you be bringing?
Sadly, no suit yet

Do you do free art?
Maybe, as long as you don't mind it looking like my fat bunny: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/11343312/

What is your gender?
Male

How old are you?
33

How tall are you?
5' 10.5"

Can I talk to you?
Anytime (even if I'm passed out - sometimes I'm funnier then)

Can I hug and/or snuggle you?
I love hugs and snuggles!

Are you nice?
Any chance I get :)

Are you cliquey?
Mort not know meaning of word

If I see you, how should I get your attention?
ATTACKHUGS!!

Are you fursuiting?
Probably not (unless someone lets me borrow their's ... then maybe)

Can I ask ya to dance with me during the dances?
You can ASK all you want ... can't guarantee I'll dance though, and probably not well if I do :D

Can I buy you drinks?
YES! As long as it isn't beer, wine or Jaegermeister (and gin is kinda sketchy)

Do you attend parties?
I'm always down to party. Loved the Otter party last year!

Can I take your picture?
Sure, I'm a camera whore :)

What's your goal(s) for the con this year?
Hang out with friends, meet new friends, raise a little hell :)

As you greet your newfound companions, you notice another shadow has appeared on the ground, barely visible in the weak lighting behind the restaurant. You hear the Silver Dragon's sharp voice, suddenly "Danger! Evil has infested the darkness."

Suddenly, the alleyway is flooded with demons from both sides. A tidal wave of dark forms rush towards your group. Small imps carpet the ground while larger, rabid, wolf-shaped creatures bound towards you. The scents of sulfur and death flood your nostrils, simultaneously flooding your mind with memories of the arena. You snort the fumes out and your pulse quickens as you turn to face the onslaught of foes.

The imps leap onto you, tearing at your flesh with their teeth and claws. Screaming in anger, you grab one after the other, crushing their tiny bones in your massive fists, cherishing their screams of pain. You whisper to the Dark One "Your kin are weak and pathetic; see how easily they are defeated" you taunt, enticing the anger and fury you know will come. The first wave of wolf-creatures slam into you, throwing you into the wall, shaking the foundation of the restaurant. Coughing up blood, you start to laugh. "Is that all you've got?" you snarl. "Come at me you worthless beasts! I will send you back to the dark planes from whence you came!"

As the next wolf-beast nears, you recover just in time to dodge a claw-swipe. Grabbing its foreleg as you side-step the attack, you slam it into the wall, hearing its skull crush and spine snap with the force of the impact. You reverse your stance and swing limp corpse into the maw of the next wolf-beast, watching as the corpse is ripped in two by the massive jaws. With a reflex honed from hundreds of battles, you summon only a small part of the Silver Dragon, changing your hands into the shining claws you have used to fell countless enemies. Raking your claws through the hide and fur of your next opponent's belly, you see, for an instant, the pure hate fade from its eyes, replaced with surprise, pain, and then a dull emptiness; the corpse falling to the ground at your feet.

A blow from behind sends you hurtling into the oncoming horde. "Fool" you say to yourself. You realize you were too caught up in the moment. “You allowed yourself to be flanked and have lost sure footing for your lapse in concentration."

As you tumble into the mass of imps and wolves, you catch a glimpse of Ara soaring into the sky, an imp trying, desperately, to drag her back down. You see Keith down the alley, valiantly defending his position.

Imps swarm over you as you crash into another wolf-beast, sending it sprawling to the ground. The wolf-beast recovers quickly and slashes at your chest, razor-sharp claws cutting deep, exposing muscle and ribs beneath your hide. Screaming in pain, you grab your sword and activate the quick-release. Gritting your teeth, you slash at the wolf-creature, severing its jaw from its massive head. Your return slash completely removes its head from its body. The sword starts to glow brightly, the Silver Dragon’s energy coursing through you and into the mighty weapon.

“See how weak your ilk is” you chide. “Only a small scratch received and so many of these creatures have fallen already. It looks like your power is waning Dark One; the Silver is more than a match for you.” The Black Dragon’s rage fills your ears; your heart pounding loudly as adrenaline pours through your body. The imps and wolves, sensing your power increasing, attack as one, rending flesh and knocking you to the ground; the glow of the sword almost completely blocked by the pile of bodies upon you.

The demons turn from Keith and Ara to join the fray against you – thrilled in the defeat to come – the mad rush to feast upon the fallen consuming them with bloodlust. The glow of your claymore starts to fade. Has the Dark One finally beaten you? Have you finally gone too far in taunting the Black Dragon? Pinned against the ground, you struggle, uselessly, against the hundreds of bodies tearing at your body. The sounds of rending flesh and crunching bones purveying the night. The light of your sword now only an ember-spark amidst the roiling mass of demons.

“Now!” The Silver Dragon stirs inside you, feeding on the power of the Dark One, consuming its rage and hatred. Your sword flickers briefly and then flares with the brilliance of a thousand suns. You see the gnashing teeth and snarling lips of the demons.. Strangely, no noise is being emitted when you distinctively could hear them a second before. A split-second later, the silence is replaced by a thunderous boom as you unleash the energy the Silver Dragon had been storing.

The demons nearest you evaporate in the expanding light as waves of pure energy burst from you. The demons surrounding you explode into flames, causing those beyond them to be hurled down the alleyway. Your wings unfurl, only to be brought together violently, causing any stragglers to be blown towards those caught in the explosions. Illuminated in the night by your wings and sword, your compatriots can see your wounds healing and bones knitting before their eyes.

You stop for a minute to rest and survey the next street. You take a few deep breaths to slow the pounding in your ears in order to listen for oncoming troops. Hearing no advancing troops, only the sounds of a city slowly calming down for their night's sleep, you start to set out again. You hesitate, feeling that familiar energy from a building close by - the strangers you sensed earlier. You close in on the energy; it is coming from a local high-class restaurant. You remember eating here after your first major win in the arena ... great food ... good service ... bad customers; the kind of people that make lots of money, but only by stabbing someone else in the back. You get that sinking feeling again, like something bad is going to happen. You move around to the back entrance and wait to see who emerges ...



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167

furry games and gaming discussions / furry role-playing / Re: Heroes of Dragon [IC]

on: January 29, 2012, 05:53:10 PM




The sun feels good, washing warmth through my body. The breeze blowing softly across the plains. The lowing of family and friends carried upon the wind welcomes you home. You wander lazily towards them, knowing they'll have a feast ready for you upon your return for your coming of age ceremony. Memories of song and dance, roaring fires lighting up the night, smells of roast meat and mead fill your mind from your siblings' parties, quickening your pace. The faces of your parents, smiling and laughing brings happiness to your heart, turning your quick walk into a trot. Upon the horizon, a storm seems to be brewing, dark clouds looming in the distance. You know your friends would have thought to put up canopies in case of rain, but you don't see the white points breaking the line betwen field and sky. You forgot; you're early in returning home from your journey to one of the bordering villages; it is still early. The wind picks up a bit, making you shiver a little. Your tail and ears quivering a little as you hunker into your travelling cloak. You pull the hood over your new horn nubs - the very ones you brag to your friends about; getting your's earlier than everyone else. You are glad to be close to home; your weary hooves hurt from the hard trails, yearning for the soft grasses of your homeland. You pick up an odd scent on the breaze now, like the forges in the castle, but stronger. The wind turns into a gale now, blowing depris into your eyes.

You snap to as you realize the clouds in front of you are not storm clouds. You notice the roiling mass of grey and black smoke rising from where your village is. All memories of times gone by washed away in the realization that your home is under attack. You race through the fields at a sprint, discarding your cloak. Your hide bare to the wind and sun, pristine and unmarred as the day you were born. The stark white surface the heritage of your family. You charge into the village, amidst the smoke and flames and rubble, red hatred blazing in your eyes for the ones that have attacked your peaceful home. You smash through the front door of your house just in time to see an undead creature plunge a sword into your father's heart. In your blind rage, you slam into the beast, almost separating its body from its legs. You grab your father's silver claymore from the wall, pulling it from its sheath in a single motion. You cleave the monster in two, an almost comical look in its dead eyes as its life energy drains to the floor, surprised that such a young specimen of your herd could wield the great weapon.

You go to your father's side. You hold his hand and help prop up his head. Your father tells you to take the sword, that it holds great power to repel the undead hordes. As the last spark of life fades from your father's eyes, you grip the sword, swearing that you will do whatever it takes to slaughter every single one of those unmerciless beasts. You hear a voice in your head, unfamiliar and foreign. "Young Morte, do you vow to use my power only to help others?" You drop the sword, the connection broken. You ponder for a moment about the risks. You see your father lying at your feet, and need no further motivation. You pick up the sword again, letting in the voice again, "I vow to use your power to decimate all foes that prey upon those that wish nothing but peace. I will never stop until every last one of them are but dust and memories!" The sword responds, "So be it."

You feel a warmth growing in the hilt; the blade glowing brightly in the dark and smokey room. The light emitted glowing ever brighter as you see veins of silver tracing down your arm. Your heart feals as though on fire. Your mind is filled with the vision of a glowing ethereal dragon, scales shining as though made of liquid silver. Your muscles bulge and flex, your hooves glisten and gleam in the dim light of the room, shining with the power of the Silver Dragon. You feel your entire form changing to match the vision in your head. You unleash a mighty roar that shakes the foundations of the building, your hatred announced to those for miles. You black out as the power overwealms your senses, becoming the Silver Dragon.

******

You open your eyes. The memories of your youth fading back into sleep. Your white hide now scarred from years of battle in the gladiator arenas; a viscious contest of skill, strength and sheer brutality in order to survive. You recall being sold into slavery by the necromancers that invaded your home; the power of the Silver Dragon not quite enough to overcome the onlsaught of undead and demons being transported to the surface of your world. You remember the cruelty of the necromantic mages as they tainted your soul. You feel the presence of Him, deep within you, clawing at your sanity, trying to find purchase in your mind, whispering - whispering dark things - inviting you to allow him to take control and give you power, unending. You push him down, shuddering at the memory of how he tore into your flesh, pushing his essence into your body and sealing himself inside you. The pain far from a memory as you feel the deep scars down your back stretching - new pain searing through your mind and He laughs at your struggles.

He feeds on your pain and misery, the Dark One does. An undead Black Dragon, raised by the vile necromancers to bestow its curse on you. Unknown by the mages, He sensed the Silver Dragon in you. Instead of simply feasting upon your lifeless corpse and bringing you into the ranks of the undead, he invaded your body and feasted on the power of the Silver Dragon. Only with your last efforts, coupled with the power of the Silver Dragon coursing through your veins, do you finally subdue the invading Black Dragon. As a last resort, the Black Dragon heals your wounds, preventing you from purging the evil from your body. You shudder at the memory. The only glimmer of happiness in the last 12 years being your 500th victory in the arenas, the last of which required to earn your freedom.

You shudder again. Wait, that wasn't you. You notice the entire building shaking. A rumbling and roaring building up. You peer out the window and see a space craft hurtling toward the city. You get thrown to the ground as the ship impacts, causing devastation throughout the city as it carves a trough of destruction through the street - screams of children and fathers, mothers and wives, echoing through the air. You sense evil again, awakened from slumber, coming from the direction of the demolished ship. You see a lone figure stumble out from the wreckage, met by others. As you watch them leave, you notice the evil still remains, infecting the city soldiers responding to the crash. You notice them contorting into demonic figures. You lose sight of the stranger from the ship and his companions and turn your attention to the crying and suffering around you.

You go through the town, examining the injurred and tormented as they attend to dying relatives. You waken the evil inside you, using its perverse energy help mend the wounds and broken limbs of those around you, feeling the Black Dragon within stirring and thrashing - infuriated that his power is being used to help others. He rips at your skin from the inside and you stumble in pain. You grimmace in pain, but hold steady, the pain a well-known ally and adversary. You hold fast, making sure that the worst-injured are attended to, leaving the rest to the local clerics and hospital staff. You leave in search of the strangers you saw earlier ... something about them feels familiar, pulling you towards them. The Silver Dragon speaks to you, "Beware, danger aproaches." You loose your claymore and ready for an assault.

As you stand posed for battle, the soldiers turn, as one, turn to face you. Drawing their swords and readying shields, march charge toward you, eyes glowing a fierce black. Your claymore glows brightly, sensing the oncoming evil, filling you with strength. You charge forward, hurling your body into the line. You plunge your sword into the first, severing his spine. With a sweaping motion, you pull your massive weapon through him and gut the next. You sidestep the blow of another soldier, barely in time, feeling the wind of his sword wistling past your horns. The dodge puts him off balance and you grab him by the face, swinging him into his neighbor and breaking his neck in the process. The next soldier in line rushes toward you, the same black stare in his eyes. You kneel down and sweep your sword low, separating him from his legs. As he collapses to the ground, he reverts to his previous form, writhing in pain until, finally, he dies.

The Black Dragon stirs. "Yessss, feed me with their suffering. Slay them all and I will feast on their souls!"

"ENOUGH!" You yell, startling those around you that haven't run for cover. You bolt into the nearest alleyway, fearful of strengthening the Dark One. "The soldiers know not what they do" you tell yourself, "they are under the control of the evil ones." You summon the strength of the Silver Dragon, pushing the evil back, suppressing the black flames that rush to envelop your soul. You run from one alley to another, evading guards whenever possible, the wanning sun the only thing making this possible.

You stop for a minute to rest and survey the next street. You take a few deep breaths to slow the pounding in your ears in order to listen for oncoming troops. Hearing no advancing troops, only the sounds of a city slowly calming down for their night's sleep, you start to set out again. You hesitate, feeling that familiar energy from a building close by - the strangers you sensed earlier. You close in on the energy; it is coming from a local high-class restaurant. You remember eating here after your first major win in the arena ... great food ... good service ... bad customers; the kind of people that make lots of money, but only by stabbing someone else in the back. You get that sinking feeling again, like something bad is going to happen. You move around to the back entrance and wait to see who emerges ...

A dark mist rolls into the room, roiling and twisting like fire in space - slithering along the walls and ceiling until the lights of the bar are but pinpricks of luminescence. A flash of light bursts from the darkness, blinding you for a second. You notice the mist writhing as if it were in pain, retreating back into the darkness from whence it came. As it recedes, you start to make out a form standing in the opening in stark contrast to the light surrounding it. The light envelops the form like spectral wings, protecting the figure from the darkness and driving it further from the recesses of the room, and your mind. Your senses return and you realize you have been talking to the candle illuminating your table.

You notice the stranger close in and take the empty bench across from you. He sits at 6 foot, bristling with muscles. Horns the size of your legs sprout from his noble head, stradling his face like support beams. A large silver ring hangs, suspended from his nose, laced with intricate carvings of ivy and leaves entwined and folded together into celtic knotwork. Large black spots mar an otherwise pristine white hide; tough and leathery, yet firm and somewhat comforting. He wears no shirt, instead preferring to let the warm summer air bathe his skin and face while roaming wild in the grasslands. His tattered black breaches hang from his waist and hug his thick legs like stray strands of thread clinging to the trunk of an oak, thrashed by the wind in a huricane. Hooves terminate his legs; dark like obsidion but shining in the light like smooth glass.

He buys you a drink, and as you stare into his dark blue eyes, you hear his name reverberate in your bones. "Mortuest" he whispers, "call me me Mortuest."

As you sit there, stunned, he not so much stands as pushes the floor further down. The ease at which he moves his bulk is startling, but what stands out is a gleaming claymore strapped to his back with white silk ropes linked together with golden rings. As you watch him fade back through the doorway, you think you catch a glimpse of tattoos in the shape of angels wings behind the massive weapon. An instant later, the flash, the darkness, and then the drone of people around you, chattering and yapping as if nothing had happened.

Was it a dream? Is my sanity fading? You start losing details about your brief encounter, and soon, the only memory left is the fresh mug of root beer sitting in front of you. As you sip the frothy brew you wonder who that stranger was, and, more importantly, what does he want with you?

Go check it out!


Origins Web Page
http://www.prosise.name/origins.html

Origins FaceBook Page
http://www.facebook.com/pages/Origi.....158?ref=stream

http://forums.furtopia.org/index.ph.....osts;start=200

This is where I have most of my material posted.