Sooner Or Later [Hector, Open]

the Rift

Sooner Or Later [Hector, Open]

Hector Posts: 262

Outcast atk: 7 | def: 9.5 | dam: 3.5

Stallion :: Hybrid :: 18.3hh :: 7 Years HP: 63 | Buff: ENDURE

Veci :: Plain Boggart :: Suffocate Dream

01-20-2014, 09:15 PM

No Time for Lies and Empty Fights

A mist pregnant with the repulsive hint of rotten eggs- of sulphur, decay and lust, wafted down into the entrance where the trio were gathered and the brawny chestnut stiffened responsively. The same hue now blanketed much of Helovia; it was pungent and foul, and enough to keep his regular patrols well beyond the traipsing of those hopeless souls who dwelt through the darkening fog. The fleeting glimpse of one partially rotted equine passed before his widening eyes; Veci was watching above them, guarding and noting those who ventured across the parched clay-soil of the Heart. In the same moment the long bony tail behind him began to flick, clean plumes of opulent fire, auburn and gold, snapping harshly left and right. No images followed, and the boggart above seemed to disconnect again, to vanish- and so too did the odour disperse.

Windwalker answered readily, and the sparkling gaze of the vigilant soldier returned to examine him; to rove the span of his body and pick out those blemishes which should matched the revelation of his tongue. Indeed there were scars though old and faded they seemed to be, and Hector likened them to medals of valour; envisioning the battles he had faced before falling upon these ailing grounds of Helovia. A reverent nod trailed the black stallion’s waning words, though for a few lasting moments he could not pull away his clever attention from the lazy slouch of one white dusted wing. Midas followed quickly in response, and Hector was neither relieved, nor concerned that he had not spoken again sooner- the giant was a creature lost for words; idle banter was not his specialty.

The fresh face spoke again; though his thoughts apparently were not set on war- like Midas’ and Hector’s combined. It was true that not all folk favoured the brilliant art form, and that was fair enough- he supposed. The other spoke as though wounded already he was, that he should be left to scope the caverns still deeper than had been done already, and if a brow had rested above the orange beast’s eye, it might have cocked just then. For now it did not cross his stark black and white mind that the Pegasus he conversed with was flightless- there was still a limb attached to each shoulder after all.

"If you wish a mentor to train and spar with. Seek me out when you return from the depths." He added simply at last, and ruffled the vibrant feathers lining each wing held close beside- there was no doubt in Hector’s mind that Windwalker would be an asset should he decide to commit to the task.

Midas turned then to look upon the tri-bred stallion with bottomless pools of shining gold, and a half-smile found purchase across his tapered maw for the sake of his brother. "We have fallen into strange times." He spoke quietly and honestly, wishing not to flood the crowd below with fuel for panic and still greater fear. The ivory horns dressing his hard, white-streaked expression lowered closer. "I thought the last darkness was the end of all life. This though?" He paused and took a hesitant breath, feeling almost silly for the query he would present next- "How can we fend off creatures that do not seem to live; what magic could aid us? Veci shows me what our lost brethren have become and I fear they are lost now…" Hector’s chiselled skull shook grimly. “We cannot abandon them.”