Aftermath.
Bodies lay still on the muddy grounds, wounded soldiers staggered away on their aching legs, blood streaked the necks, faces and limbs of those around the battlefield. The grass had been trampled, destroyed. And the smell of blood rode on the mist coming from the ocean. It was dark now, night had come, and the Battle of the World’s Edge had died down. The voices and moans of the injured sounded in the darkness and the uneven rustle of sore, feathered wings could still be detected above. Death and destruction was all around. Blood, agony and even broken bones…
It was a gory scene.
The black beast, the pet stallion belonging to Mauja, was only battered and bruised though. No blood had been drawn from him and that was due only to pure luck. He’d been thrown to the ground, kicked and shoved, but his crimson life had remained within his obsidian body. He could thank his lucky star that he didn’t have a broken bone like the grulla equine standing by the outer rim of the battleground, or that he hadn’t been knocked out like the bronze marked Ulrik, or burnt by a dragon like Mauja had been. He picked his way towards his master, fairly untouched, but concerned for his pale king, concerned also that he’d failed to do his duty, failed to protect his master from harm.
There are no winners in war only those that loose slightly less than others.
[Ooc; Open for all and I would love it if any of the enemy soldiers could attack him!]
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| Deceased atk: 4 | def: 8 | dam: 6.5 |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 16.2 hh :: 4 HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE |
| ali |
10-02-2012, 03:01 PM
(This post was last modified: 10-02-2012, 03:03 PM by ali.)
 image by jouste @ flickr.com</style>
Monster had run off, leaving her alone with Tarak to watch over her, but she had followed him and watched from darkened forest as the battle slowly came to an end. Now the sounds of war were replaced by the groans of the injured. Her blue eyes scanned the battlefield, easily picking out her father among the crowd. The girl stepped forward and the whir of Tarak became part of the sounds of the aftermath. As she moved deeper into the battlefield she picked out Monster. Immediately her slow pace increased in tempo and she trotted toward the black stallion, gently touching her nose to his shoulder when she reached him.
There were no words that needed to be spoken, she'd shown her concern and sated that same concern with a simple touch. He was still warm, his muscles still limber, and while there was the scent of blood all around she did not catch the scent of it on him. She turned in the direction Monster had been heading and looked at her father who looked far worse for the wear than Monster did. As angry as she had been at him for traipsing off with another mare and having a stupid son, she was glad that he was okay. She would never wish harm on her father no matter how upset he made her.
snö. </style>
& when she whispers, your blood shall run cold.</style> |
Psyche the DarkEmpress Posts: 380
| Deceased |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3 hh :: 8 (ages in Orangemoon) Buff: ENDURE |
| RayoDeSoleil |
10-02-2012, 10:03 PM
(This post was last modified: 10-18-2012, 04:26 PM by Psyche.)
 | |
There is no way to prepare oneself for the aftermath of battle.
Some felt loss, some felt triumph; all felt pain. The pain depended on the individual: some would feel the overwhelming pain of loved ones amongst the corpses, some would feel the pain of losing what they so deeply cherished that they would fight to the death for it. Others would feel the pain of their wounds, flesh gaping, air and dirt hungrily invading the crimson life of the individual. Bones grating where they had cracked deep within the tissues of the body, or, for the unlucky ones, sticking out like long, thin gravestones upon the hide. The pain, whichever kind, is unavoidable. If one emerges unscathed, then one's job has not been fulfilled.
And so it was that the shadow-mare limped from the battlefield. Her bodice blended smoothly with the growing darkness save for the scarlet lacerations which marked her as a soldier of this battle. Her right shoulder hurt the most, and it showed as she favored the limb in her walk. Nonetheless, it was a matter of pride for which she held her head high, amber orbs scanning the blackness before her. She had fared worse than this in combat, though not by much - she was out of practice from seasons on her own. This much she would admit, though only to herself. No other would know of her weakness.
Materializing before her was a familiar figure, and one whom she she intended to seek before the beginnings of this skirmish. A pale bodice, the icy blue horn, both courtesy of the Frostheart - where had the shadow-mare's genes come into play? But however different their appearances may be, this flicka was one that she would know anywhere. She had not been in battle, for her hide was unmarked. Was this from cowardice? No, the shadow-mare had taught her daughter better than that! She must have been absent, too late to join the fray. Orange orbs scanned the stallion with her - he was an unknown figure, not that she was surprised. She hadn't had a chance to meet the herd before the onslaught began.
Words pooled in her mind, threatening to spill out into the night. But no. There may be enemies around yet. She would not enjoy their company in her present condition. Drops of her blood left a trail behind her, the ruby liquid coursing from the missing flesh of the nape to mix with the long gash on her left side. Another contusion on her right hindquarter dripped its own trail. And she wouldn't want Snö to be caught up in this madness. She was young, and the shadow-mare had birthed her. It wasn't a particularly mothering instinct, but rather a feeling of unpaid debt for her lack thereof. And so she joined the pair silently, her gaze on her daughter's. There was no touch, there were no words, and yet she had spoken.
[W/C | 493]
| Walk walk walk.
"Talk talk talk."
Think think think. |  |
| User-based Random Event |
| Stallion :: Equine :: :: |
| |
10-04-2012, 03:50 PM
(This post was last modified: 10-04-2012, 03:52 PM by NPC.)
Stupidity was a disease, a foul infliction that devastated the ranks of any army. Stupidity to follow orders that would lead you to your death. Stupidity of the commander to send the legion into the pass, where they would be slaughtered. And that is why the mare existed. Her breath came in deep, smooth gasps, her eyes were proud and wild. Delicate hooves flicked through the waste, the piles of dead bodies. The foul smell of rotten meat pervaded her.
She was the warrior queen, a simple horse.
A name was unnecessary to put to her face. She was powerful, with a broad-chest, a mountain warrior used to training at much higher elevations than this. Thick feathers trailed her black legs. No beauty, certainly, with her shaggy, plain bay appearance and blunt face. But oh-so-strong. A faded white star under her rouge-eqsue forelock.
"Soldier. You are not done your battle yet, weary one. You are foolish to lose your wits about you so swiftly when the battlefield appears deader than the horses lying upon it." A contemptuous smile twitches her black lips. She does not waste time rearing, like an idiot. Instead, faster than a blink of an eye, she throws herself into a full-gallop, knees high and legs flicking out, tail soaring behind her.
She aims to take out the black unicorn. As she gallops, right before she would possibly hit him, she leaps, angling her shoulder forward, preparing herself to slam into his hefty black flank.
Mauja the Frozen Light Posts: 1,392
| Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7.5 |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2 :: 14 HP: 79.5 | Buff: HUNTER |
|
Irma :: Snowy Owl :: Terrorize
& Diego :: Eurasian Eagle-Owl :: Rage
Neo |
Hate.
Pain.
Fear.
Fury.
The mist swirled around his body, around his face, a soothing balm on the charred skin on his back. The stench of melted hair and burnt flesh hung around him like a vile cloud, each breath - each miniscule movement of his hindquarters - sending a sharp stab through him. Nerves screamed, his heart raced, yet his mind was passive. The dragons left him alone, for now, and in the dark he could see Monster coming towards him. Still alive, then. Good. The fog was thickening, a blanket across the land, hiding friend and foe from view.
He felt tired.
Worn.
The whole thing was unfolding before him, spreading out, and something like despair gripped his icy heart. He stood on the outskirts, soul like lead, his heart about to fall through his ribs and into the ground. Something behind his eyes felt hot and urgent, a lump in his throat, sawing away at his resolve, at his nerves, at his mind. The breeze prodded his burnt skin with merciless fingers, but wincing would only make it hurt more.
Out of nowhere came Snö. Looked at him. Looked away again.
He felt like baring his teeth at her. She was the one who had run. He wasn't going to ask her back. It was up to her. Her life.
Fuck it all.
Their line had never been, so he could not say it was broken. He had done what he could, used what he could, to try and stall the force coming at them.
Futile. Pointless.
They had been nearly the same number, but his had fallen.
Was his race truly so weak?
Disgust.
The growl died in his chest. Would hurt too much. Throat raw, ragged - screaming, smoke? He didn't know which. Could feel blood running down his horn, staining his forehead a macabre red. Soon it'd dry, become like flakes of rust. Easy to rub off. It smelled vile. Grated at his control.
Out of the fog came a soldier, spinning into Monster. So near Snö. So near Psyche. He didn't move. Blinked. Stared. He knew that it was over. The knowledge had settled across him like a dead weight dragging him under water, something that went deeper than thoughts - deeper than flesh and bone and spillt blood. It was as if the Moon herself was whispering to him of his defeat.
This mare, this Mirage, had proclaimed herself a follower of that very goddess. Fuck it all.
He had to suffer just a little more for his herd.
Air - nothing sweet, nothing blessed, just like acrid smoke and death - filled up his lungs, skin screaming. He smelled like a charred corpse. Could remember fire flickering all over.
Deep, thundering, the cry left his chest, rolling out like the fog itself across the World's Edge.
We are lost.
He knew some of those lying on the ground were his. Friends. Allies. Brave souls who had gotten in over their heads. He couldn't do a single thing. Could just - let them be. Hers. This time he growled, withdrawing a pained step. Wishing death to rain upon them all, like Histe did. Fire. Rain. Death. Monster could fend for himself. He knew how to kill. Had a horn, damnit. Use it. Kill the bitch and be done with it.
"I hope it pleases your wretched soul, dragonwhore," he hissed under his breath. He would not forget. Not forgive. Helovia had taken the first step, had broken the rules of conduct, of fragile alliances - for the sake of what, a stupid fucking moron who was too short-sighted to take the opportunities given to her?
He was getting the hell out of here. No point in staying and playing the humiliated lord. No point in doing anything except falling into a ditch and sobbing until the pain went away.
Those left, would not be so for long.
His teeth hungered for revenge.
He mustered a second cry, a rallying one; unless Mirage tried to interfere with his soldiers' leave, he'd lead them somewhere else. Someplace safe. Somewhere where they could unsheathe their knives and show Helovia just was beast they'd prodded from its winter sleep.
He was done playing nice.
Grinding his teeth together, swallowing each wince and each tear, Mauja began to limp east. His future lay elsewhere now.
( keep in mind that Mirage can choose to hold the herd prisoner, so unfortunately you need to check with Whit before stating that you leave. :/ )
Mauja Frosthjärta |
angels, they fell first, but I'm still here
| Hidden Account |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 16.2 :: 10 |
| Adoptable |
 Well, at least they were leaving her alone now, pulling back. Peaches-and-cream lay unconscious on the ground, and Alan fought down the urge to rush over to him and stomp on his head. Too many enemies around her. Too many bitches. Snarling, she took off a few steps forth, spun around. A gray pony stood back here, looking very tired and worn, a white dragon with him. Through the swirling mist she could see Mauja, standing at the edge looking worn - defeated.
No.
It couldn't be. They couldn't have lost...
Sounds proclaimed that some were still fighting, but Mauja's deep voice rang out through the World's Edge. So familiar, the way it thundered out across this fog-blanketed forest, sending shivers through the ground and tugging at the souls of all who lived there. How many times had it called them to a gathering, or simply rolled out as comfort in the dark nights? Now, though, its spirit was broken, the edges raw and ragged. We are lost. Alan swept past Lace like a night wind, spinning into the blackness of the Edge forest. Some of their own had fallen, but such was war. Not everyone made it out alive.
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[Since this is my thread I say: Posting-order is a lie! x3]
He wasn’t ready. He wasn’t paying attention. After stopping by Snö, happily receiving her display of affection he just lost his trail of thought, lost his anchor in the world. Maybe it was sadness that created the veil that kept him from looking in the right direction. Maybe it was wary or simply just bad luck. But the fact was that the pet didn’t even understand that he was made a target. His understanding of words was, to say the least, limited so he didn’t even reflect over the mare’s outcall.
She was on him before he could react. Her heavy form pushed him off balance and he fell to the ground. Her broad hoof, with all her weight behind it came towards his face, his surprised, uncomprehending face with the red and yellow eyes widened in confusion. He had fallen under her and even if she didn’t meant to trample him; his skull was in her way.
It was quick. It was with minimum pain. But it still was.
********
A long time ago a mad unicorn desired a mate, she was a witch, an ugly one too, and so no stallion wanted her. Instead she found a dog, a happy-go-lucky, black shepherd with a heart of gold. She turned him into a unicorn, but it didn’t go as well as she’d expected. The stallion had no words, he was still just a dog in mind and the change of body and the evil magic of the witch drove him into madness.
The witch then put a spell on a black rope, it was meant to control the beast she’d created, but when she tied it around his neck the stallion managed to pierce her with his horn. She died and with her dying breath she cursed him yet again: ”You are but a dog! Simply a tool for anyone to use as they see fit! And without a master you are doomed to madness - without a leader you will be a monster!”
********
On the ground the black body of the cursed stallion now lay motionless, in a pool of his own blood. Skull crushed and demon eyes bloodshot and staring blindly.
The Monster was dead.
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| Deceased atk: 4 | def: 8 | dam: 6.5 |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 16.2 hh :: 4 HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE |
| ali |
image by jouste @ flickr.com</style>
Her ears lay flat against her head when her mother joined her beside Monster, but just as quickly they strained forward. Neither of them said a word, but just as she had done with Monster, Snö touched her muzzle to her mother's shoulder. Another look was cast in her father's direction but he looked away, turned, and then began to limp out of the forest even as an equine mare approached them. Was that it? Would he not call to his warriors? His family? Would he expect them to follow blindly? Snö snorted and rolled her eyes. He would just call out to them wordlessly and expect those still loyal to him to follow.
Her head turned at the sound of the mare's voice and what happened next happened too fast. One minute she was standing next to her dearest friend and the next she was stumbling out of the way of a mare who was charging them. The crunching of bone had her ears laying flat once again. When she caught sight of Monster her eyes widened and she let out a strangled cry of 'No!'.
Tears welled immediately in her blue eyes as she stared at the body of her Monster. Her Thais. Snö inched closer, her muzzle bumping the shoulder of her friend. She knew what death was, she had already killed in her young life. She had never lost someone dear to her. It was all her father's fault. He had turned and left, abandoned them as he'd slunk away in humiliation. He had let Monster die.
snö. </style>
& when she whispers, your blood shall run cold.</style> |
| User-based Random Event |
| Stallion :: Equine :: :: |
| |
The warrior queen bared her teeth, eyes glittering savagely with pride. She reared, twisting and turning onto the delicate chestnut-white mare beside her. Snö, not that the queen bothered to know her name. "You cry over a lost one? I laugh. You are a fool. There is no love in this world, only betrayal. Run little princess, run like the wind that blows in the eerie valleys." She sneers, eyes frostier than the winter. Her hooves shifted, eager to kill and smash more and more. The black one lay dead, blood pooling, red glistening on an obsidian horn. A faint quaver of his soul remained, but it disappeared. After all, the warrior queen could also see the lost souls and haunting ghosts.
But she had nothing to fear from a dead thing. A thing not even worthy of the name 'unicorn'. "Run, little princess. Run." The queen's voice is dripping with contempt, and she flicks her ebony tail.
Psyche the DarkEmpress Posts: 380
| Deceased |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3 hh :: 8 (ages in Orangemoon) Buff: ENDURE |
| RayoDeSoleil |
10-08-2012, 12:03 PM
(This post was last modified: 10-18-2012, 04:27 PM by Psyche.)
| |
Too much happened too fast in the darkness. Shrouded in fog, the warrior queen appeared from nowhere, her eyes mad with the lust of battle. Who she was and from where she hailed was of no consequence to those left on the battlefield; the only thing to do was to get out of the way. And even this proved too difficult for some. Even in the darkness, the pool of blood beneath the black unicorn's cranium was evident by the rosy sheen of moonlight rippling across it. Almost simultaneously came Snö's pained cry.
The shadow-mare had darted out of the way of not only the warrior femme but also her daughter. If they were not careful, the domino effect would prove deadly. The battle was over, but this crazed mare fought still. But the bitch would not take her daughter. Psyche had returned to find Snö, after all - she was not keen to lose her once more. Perhaps she had some mothering instinct in her, after all. As it were, the scene before her was unthinkable. As the warrior mare turned her attention to Snö, vulnerable in the wake of one who was clearly close to her - Snö's first mistake, in her mother's opinion - Psyche leaped into action.
A few quick steps brought her to her daughter's side, ears flattened and teeth bared at the warrior queen. A dangerous glint entered her orange orbs. She knew that it was unlikely, at this point, that she would be able to best a fresh warrior in battle. She had been sloppy in her fighting previously, and it had cost her dearly. Her right foreleg was all but useless, barely supporting her weight as it was, and she knew that she was losing blood at a far too rapid pace. A mental curse was sent to those who had attacked her once-home.
The shadow-mare was unsure if her daughter would welcome her protection; but after all, this was her child, and the dead beast before them had been her comrade on the battlefield. Surely there was some vengeance deserved, some justice to be served. But this mare was not like the fighters of the Qian. She was of another element all her own. Psyche stepped closer to Snö, hoping to herd her daughter from the dead monster's corpse. Her eyes did not once leave the warrior queen. A misstep here could leave her dead as a misstep in the prior battle would not have, and she had too much left unfinished to die today.
[W/C | 426]
| Walk walk walk.
"Talk talk talk."
Think think think. | |
[Ooc; Yaaay! :D]
It would never be understood if it was the tears of the young girl, her bleeding heart and love for the fallen stallion or just the old, dark magic giving way. But something happened. The body of the beast started twitching, a shimmering light enveloped his obsidian form and slowly it rose from the ground. With a static spark rays of red light shot from the dead unicorn. The rays would blind those gathered if they didn’t close their eyes in time. However the light dimmed soon and their eyesight would return quickly. In the air the body floated as if it was weightless. It almost looked like it was under water. The Monster’s mane floated around his head and neck and his tail curled softly around his hind legs. It was, to say the least, a weird sight.
His eyes were closed now as he floated, and suddenly his body started to change. The strands in his tail melted together, his ebony coat grew longer and shaggy within seconds, his hooves transformed into paws and his neck shrank. His ears grew big and wolf-like and his mouth stretched into the maw of a canine. For a few seconds he looked like a horse-sized wolf, but then he shrank a bit and his features transformed into the perfect image of a German Shepherd. He was still quite big though, rising about 80 centimeters at the withers; quite a bit taller than the average German Shepherd.
Slowly the body was then lowered to the ground, the red glow dimmed and disappeared entirely when the black dog was put down softly by the strange magic. Monster's true form had been given back to him and the only thing he had to remember his days as a unicorn by was the black rope sitting comfortably around his neck like a costumed made collar.
He opened his eyes. They were chocolate brown, gleeful but still had the vacant touch to them. Monster then rolled on to his belly, kneaded the ground with his big front paws and raised his rear from the ground. He stretched out his back like he’d been sleeping and his long, pink tongue hung from his big mouth. Then the big dog looked to Snö and with a playful, short bark (that almost sounded like her name) he jumped towards her. But he stopped himself in the middle of the leap and swirled around, seemingly remembering his bane.
His eyes flared up and displayed his infamous devil’s glare. Monster then growled and bared his teeth before he crouched and jumped towards the big mare. He aimed for the throat of the warrior queen and if he was successful he would lock his jaws and hold her until she choked to death, well he would at least try.
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| World's Edge Seer |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.2 hh :: 26 Buff: NOVICE |
| Whit |
She peered into the distance. The smell of the war was all around her. The blood and bodies of those that had fallen sank into the place she loved, and made it something unholy. She felt for all of them, and the land itself. Even if the war was not hers, she knew now that the outcome was most important. Things are going to change she said to herself. She walked along the paths she knew well, deep into surrounding woods, where the mist sprang. She walked until the mist was all she could see, but strode a little further till her hoofs felt wet. She peered into the water, and looked at her reflection. What stared back at her was the Moon Goddess, a calm look on her face. She raised her head and walked between two trees. She carefully sat down, and stared into the mists, seeing what her Goddess had to say.
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| User-based Random Event |
| Stallion :: Equine :: :: |
| |
The warrior queen fell to the jaws of the dog. Paralyzed by all-consuming fear, gut twisted. Nothing should come back from the dead. If there was one thing the queen was unprepared for, it was for a black dog to clasp its jaws around her and throw her to the ground, where crimson blood stained her dark throatlatch and her eyes grew glazed and frozen. It was not natural.
Not... nat... ral... not... natural.
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