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02-20-2015, 01:21 PM
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Ophelia the Forsaken
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Ophelia did not hold her title like a weapon used to beat down the oppressed. She was not a queen at heart. The mare was a spy, used to operating in the shadows and being summarily ignored by society, and though she had run a herd once before – the Foothills – this position seemed much more public. The Grey, her former band, had never allied nor was involved in such politics. The mercenaries and spies she had gathered from the dark corners of the world united under a similar principle of anonymity and violence, but now she was plunged into this political agenda of which she had little practice and understanding. Her saving grace was that deep down, she was a kind and understanding soul, and her loyalty was fierce and unwavering. One day, all would die, and they would be equals once more. The weight of leadership hung on her shoulders, and she was more a servant than a ruler. Her herd deserved her every thought and devotion, and through her actions, she would honor the masses that looked to her for protection, guidance and victory. There was no reason to look down on others – for they were freer than she would ever be. This stranger’s bow was deep and honorable, and Ophelia returned it swiftly, dipping the tip of her pearly, twisted horn to the sands. Rising, she listened to her introductions, smiling softly when she realized that this mare was a voice for the Sun God. The bright light hanging from her horn bobbed, and she took a deep breath, feeling peace with this encounter. “I am honored to meet you as well,” she replied. “The God of the Sun is magnificent, and you are fortunate to be one of his students.” Perhaps she was a little envious, but she stilled her heart’s frantic clawing. Though, perhaps her faith in the gods was slightly naïve? The gods were many things, but judicious was not a quality she would assign to many. Perhaps the God of the Earth was the most fair, but they were just as mortal on the inside was she was on the outside. Their pain, anguish, heartbreak and joy rippled through the land, unfettered. Thus, she simply nodded, hoping that they would be judicious but not having faith that they would succeed. Ophelia offered her services then, determined to make a good impression while she was invited beyond the borders, and she observed the striped Maren’s expressive eyes think and consider. The pale princess stood patiently, the brutal sun on the rise, and she began to sweat in the corners of her body. Surprised that this exotic creature’s mind so swiftly turned to violence, her lips upturned slightly, a welcoming smirk making her beautiful features seem somehow even more mischievous. Was it wrong to say that her heart ached for war? That she craved violence and bloodshed like her ancestors of old? The verdict was still out on that case. “Maren, it would be my pleasure to spar with you,” she agreed wholeheartedly. With a few, carefully placed steps, Ophelia backed away from their close meeting, giving distance to start this battle. Fear of failure gnawed at the edges of her confidence, but she took a deep breath, trying to settle into what she knew. The battle with Deimos had been dismal, and she knew now that she had to be more careful. Each action had to be weighed and considered, and she paused to arrange her first attack. Strange, dual colored eyes swept over her opponent, judging that this would be another even match, most likely similar to her one with Deimos. Ophelia’s height could give her leverage, and her muscles were bound to her form upright and with a tight, steep angled shoulder. Agility would be her miniscule strength, and she would have to use it wisely. Tinek, observing her mind, circled downward, his silver scales shimmering in the daylight, and he sat to perch on a nearby rock. The dragon would not interfere unless necessary, and his hawkish eyes watched the pair. He would not let his bonded suffer again –no matter how much she urged him to let her fight her own battles. “If we are going to practice, we need to make this real,” she replied. “I will not hold back, and I expect that you will follow suit.” Ophelia lunged forward, dipping her head to her chest as her cloven toes gripped the sand below. Her alabaster body jumped, horn aimed at Maren’s left shoulder. She twisted her neck, keen on slicing the sharpened tip up the tiger mare’s side. The light on her forehead, a gift from the Sun God, flashed with a white light as she landed, hopefully deterring attack from behind. ------------------------- (795 words in word) (1/3) - Ophelia backs away then lunges forward, using her horn like a sword and tries to cut her from her left shoulder along her body I'll start my teaching notes once you reply with an attack :) Also, don't forget to wait for the roll to reply. Remember that a 1-2 are minimally injuring, but a 6 is full damage from the attack! I find it useful to make a scale in my head before replying so that I know how severe I am going to take damage. @[Maren] |
 Undertow has come to take me. Guided by the blazing sun. Look at everything around us. Look at everything we've done. Please. Anyone. I don't think I can save myself. I'm drowning. |
Please tag me in every response!
