the Rift


the end of an era [HERD MEETING]

Sikeax the Sea Soul Posts: 355
Outcast atk: 4 | def: 9 | dam: 6
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16 hh :: 5 years HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Hobgoblin :: Common Rougarou :: Water & Seoul :: Plain White Dragon :: Toxic Breath Zuno
#1
into the sea, you and me
all these years, and no one heard
i love you, let's go

The silence is deafening, or quite possibly it’s the choking in her throat, the feeling of fear and anxiety building up over the fact that she has to do this and has to get it out of the way somehow. There is too much to let go by unannounced. By waiting, she is leaving them in the dark, empty-handed, innocent to anything that can harshly affect them in the future.
That growing lump in her throat is a lot harder to swallow than imagined.
“Be fine. Like healers meeting. Only larger.”
She swears she can hide, that she can run and avoid it until the future comes along and bites her in the ass for it. If she neglects it enough, could she let herself be demoted instead of running from her rank, one that the herd has trusted her with, even the Sun God?
One last thick swallow.
You can do this.
“Hobgoblin,” He perks up as if on cue, waiting for this, having previously gone ahead and done away with his distaste for what was eventually to come. Except, they are now at his mercy when she is gone, and the idea brings a sense of joy into him. Another opportunity to have them fall to him.
“Please go and bring in the herd members that won’t hear me.”
He is gone so much quicker than she expects him to be, leaving nothing behind but a black blur close to the ground and a trail of orange and red dust. The lump makes a comeback as the world crashes down upon her at once.
Alone, and at the mercy of a herd that  she has no idea will accept her as their new Sultana.
“DRAGON’S THROAT!” The harshness of her tone conjures an ache in her throat. I should have practiced.
One more thing she hasn’t thought about before this.
“PLEASE COME TO ME!”
What a way to ask for them. If Hobgoblin had been with her then, maybe he would have made some sort of joke out of it to ease the pressure. Or she could have asked someone she knew to be with her during this, a crutch to lean against and pray to the Sun God that this doesn’t go badly.
Nonetheless, they all come pouring in, swarming her singular body as if moths to a light. A desperate itch tells her to bundle up and hide at the fact that all of their eyes are directly upon her, everything set straight to her. Familiar faces in the crowd almost drive her out into their arms, but Hobgoblin’s return signals the beginning of this.
There is no going back now.
“My dear family of the desert, it is good to see all of you. I hope everything has been well for each of you. May I gave my sincerest apologies for those who are not yet aware of the current circumstances, and to those most closely affected by it.” Her voice catches in her throat. Hobgoblin’s claws sink into the scarring flesh atop her back and draw thin scrapes into her when he cannot get his grip immediately, scrambling up. The thrashing of his tail turns into violent whipping. He has had enough of one dead man’s talk at this point. Warrior, whoever he is, is gone as far as he is concerned, and should no longer hold any purpose.
His existence, or at least what remains of it, is an obstacle in his their new reign.
Delayed annoyance makes an arrival now. The air in her mouth is dry and she feels as if she has taken a mouthful of the desert. No longer can anyone else deny it.
Everything comes out with a sigh. “Gaucho has passed on to whatever afterlife he believes in after a long battle with an unknown illness.” Here, she is already expecting backlash, hatred, questions as of why she couldn’t stop death when it had so obviously set its sights upon the Wildfire. All of their words will be fire into already open wounds barely stitched together, never healed by flame because there’s no way that she manage that now.“I’m sorry, that I couldn’t save him. Not all things can be cured, and he was one of the unlucky ones. If anyone has any ideas as of how they would like to remember him, either physically or verbally, please do speak up. Anything is appreciated and welcome.”
Moments spared for any uprising of voices flutter by on butterfly wings. Impatience rumbles in her brother like a hurricane brewing out in the sea, ready to make landfall and inflict any of its cruel intentions.
"Hurry up." He demands with a snap.  His stare breaks at the movement of her ears coming around to face him, disgust climbing into the cockpit and promptly bringing forth a snarl across his features.
"Following his passing, the Sun God decided that Megaera was no longer fit for leadership, to who I apologize. You were a wonderful Sultana and set a high bar that I hope to someday meet."
"Lies." A low hiss in the back of her head as Hobgoblin utters what feels like the truth, but can't surely be it. Any Sultana is a better one than herself, who stands in fear at the idea of speaking before her family members and cannot correctly perform the duties left to her by a man who made them all look effortless.
"And in their places, has made me Sultana. I have no experience with this sort of thing, but any assistance, especially from rank leads," Eye contact is briefly stolen from Volterra, as if to add emphasis that she desperately desires his help in this. "is appreciated. I don't want this wonderful and loving" "Except midget bitch," chimes in Hobgoblin, to which all of her self-restraint immediately goes into holding in a laugh. "herd to fall out of greatness just because Gaucho is no longer with us. He would want us to carry on proudly, even if it is without him."
Unsteadiness draws up into her now. There are two different paths for her to chase this meeting down, the announcement of Volterra's entrance to the herd and his taking of the rank of Gladiator, or the existence of the unbound. The latter draws a clench in her head and claws sink into her skin as if on reflex.
Her mouth opens and holds for a few short seconds before any words can usher their way free, remembering her time as a child in an outcast band, how they had been hated, driven into death, wondering if some herd lead had had this exact same conversation with their herd over her and her family band some long years ago.
"If any have been visiting the threshold regularly, then there is the chance that you might already know who I am talking about. There's an outcast band called the Unbound lingering in the wilds, appearing in the threshold regularly in attempts to recruit. They are chaotic, leaderless as far as they explain themselves, saying that they lack a leader, that they have no ties to anyone but are somehow held together by loyalty. In all honesty, an embarrassment to themselves. It is in our favour and all of the herds' favours that this band be taken care of before they become too ambitious and make plans towards acquiring a herd land."
Processing time is offered, letting mumbled words be exchanged within the group if there is any to get out. "Warriors and spies, it is suggested that you try to make them prisoners of the Throat, or defeat them into submission and uselessness in battle. As far as I'm aware, there is a mare named Paradox and a stallion named Hé in this herd, and if you know any others associated with them, speak up now.  I'll be visiting the other herds soon on this topic to see what they are to do about it."
Time to finish it off.
"Lastly, I would like to announce that Volterra has joined the Dragon's Throat at my request and has taken up the rank of Gladiator. I hope that all of you can welcome him into our family with open arms, and warriors, I suggest meeting with your new rank lead soon. Given that, all ranked or those interested in taking up a rank should meet with their rank leads soon. The healers can meet with me, warriors with Volterra, spies with Misael, crafters with Cera, and apostles with Maren."
One long heave of relief, a silent shedding of stress and anxiety at last because it's over, her first long string of announcements to her family as a lead.
No bliss follows suit. It's not like that's the kind of thing that comes with these types of meetings.
"That is all, but if anyone else would like to add something in, then you are welcome to."

OOC: screaming. this might be a bit off because i'm not used to writing these out and for one i wrote the vast majority of this while half-asleep and near brain dead.
Hobgoblin is in his Serval form during the meeting, but you are more than welcome to PP him finding your character and harassing them in any of his forms to get them to come over to the meeting.

Here's a final run down ooc-wise:
- Gaucho has died, the Sun God has demoted Megaera and Sikeax has taken both of their places as the only Sultana.
- Volterra is now the Gladiator.
- Ranked characters have been requested to have meetings with their rank leads. Unranked characters who would like to have a rank are requested to meet with the rank lead of the rank they wish to join. Apprentices do the exact same thing. Sikeax will still act as rank lead up until Sun Physician apps open.
- The Unbound exists and has been deemed a target and enemy of the Dragon's Throat. Any information regarding them is required to be announced.
- If someone would like to make a memorial for Gaucho, they can speak up and say and request assistance from the herd this way.
- Not in the post, BUT Sun Physician apps will open up sometime next month or at the very beginning of next season. A way to improve your chances at gaining this position is by attending healer meetings, performing more rank tasks than is required(or requested) and by showing a general strong interest in the rank.
- Also not in there, but if anyone would like to apprentice in healing, then Sikeax would be more than willing to take up an apprentice. This will help in achieving the Sun Physician rank in the future, but chances are you might get to tag along on Sultana things too as a bonus. The only age requirement is that you be over the age of six months, and will have your rank changed to apprentice.

lunarblues!

Tags for those that may specifically benefit from this meeting one way or another:
@Volterra @Misael @Sohalia @Cera @Maren @Zèklè


you were angels,
so much more than everything

:: please tag me
:: minor force and power play allowed


Sohalia the Transcended Posts: 477
Outcast atk: 4 | def: 9.5 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14.3 hh :: 10 (ages in Orangemoon) HP: 67 | Buff: NOVICE
Astraeus :: Common Zephyr :: Wakiya ChaoticMelodies
#2
[Image: BLX1P.jpg]

SOHALIA

Sohalia was among the first to arrive, her pale form moving daintily over golden sands. As luck would have it, she had been nearby when she had heard the summons, for once not doing much of anything. She slipped into a place near Sikeax, a mare who should could not bring herself to hate regardless of how easy it would be to do so. As their Sun Physician, many would say that she had failed - but the Transcended had seen her grief that day by Gaucho's side and for many days after. In her heart, Sohalia knew that their new Sultana had done all that she could for the WildFire. That was enough for her, as it would have to be enough for everyone else.

As Astraeus fluttered down from the sky to settled his sparking form upon her back, Sohalia offered a kind (albeit sad) smile to the lonely mare calling them to order. As a former Sultana herself, she knew just how daunting it could be to hold a herd meeting, and she had never had to face the task by herself. Nor had she ever had to present such awful news, to coax their herd to move past the tragedy that had befallen them. Her job had been easy in comparison to this, and she hoped that her kind eyes portrayed some of the sympathy that she felt for the unicorn mare.

(Had they ever had a non-pegasus ruler?)

As the meeting began, Sohalia was on edge, expectantly awaiting the moment when someone in the crowd would challenge their new Sultana's words. When Sikeax paused, the Transcended immediately stepped forward, hoping to help direct the tone of the meeting past blame and guilt and on to more productive things. "You did all that you could to help him, Sikeax," she told the mare softly before addressing the rest of those assembled. "All of you know that Gaucho was a warrior, and that he dedicated his life to keeping all of us safe. He would not want us to fall to grief and despair. We are all hurting, but he will be remembered. Zèklè, with Vinati's help, has created a golem in Gaucho's likeness. If you want to contribute to his memory or say a last goodbye, I ask that you visit that site. I ask that you remember that Gaucho is not gone from us; he will continue to watch over us all from the spirit lands of his ancestors. We are not alone."

Suddenly self-conscious, the dove stepped back, bowing her head momentarily as though in prayer. Her eyes closed against the looks of those around her, her throat working busily to dispel the lump that had appeared there. She missed Gaucho, perhaps the most of anyone there, but she would not let his absence destroy them. Even as it destroyed her.

"talk talk talk"

@Zèklè is mentioned

Brighter than the northern lights
Want to live to feel the daylight


OOC | She kind of remains silent after her speaking, I dunno if she'll have more to add or not until more people respond. ;D
Please tag Sohalia in all replies.
Use of force and/or magic (with the exception of death) is allowed at all times.

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Cathun Posts: 88
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 3.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17.1 :: 3 HP: 60 | Buff: NOVICE
Tai
#3
Cathun
Flames licked angrily about Cathun's figure, shrouded entirely by the element of his true nature.  The sound had wrested him from an uneasy sleep, one clouded by dreams of a dark colored mare tipped in gold - one who had not greeted him on his arrival back home.  The absence of her presence here clouded his newly formed resolve, worry nestling itself around his heart.  Had something befallen his friend, the strangely stubborn and kind girl?  In the depths of his mind, he saw her struggling against invisible forces, other times being incinerated in fires spawning from his own pelt.  The latter caused him to shudder visibly, even in his sleep, at the nightmares.

So, when the feminine voice rang through his mind, at first he thought it to be the Sunspear, calling forth a meeting alongside Gaucho.  When he arrived, following the twisting winds toward the origin of the shout, his face contorted in confusion.  The expression muddled from the unsubstantial fire forming his features, from head to toe.

Cathun recognized Sikeax, known primarily as healer in the Dragon's Throat, but never had she held the title of Sultana in his time here.  He glances around, watching as the unicorn is treated with recognition and respect.  The frustration in his heart burns, wanting to stride up to the mare and demand where Gaucho was.  "What the hell," he mutters under his breath instead, ear cocking back uncertainly.  He had been gone for a long time, but never in his wildest dreams had he imagined the Wildfire being replaced by a delicate soul like Sikeax, with the gentle hands of a healer.

Her voice begins, a soft apology and a choked, mournful tone rising into the air.  The fires burning about his body begin to dim, shifting with his mood.  They flicker, guessing the next set of words before the leader even speaks them.  Shock fills his mind, leaving it blank and unresponsive, maw hanging open, a gaping whole of flame.

“Gaucho has passed on to whatever afterlife he believes in after a long battle with an unknown illness.”

She says it delicately, and Cathun blinks rapidly, unable to clear the fog from his mind.  Gaucho had been a steadfast leader, powerful and intimidating.  WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED? he wants to scream, but instead stands silent, feeling even more uncertain about his choice to return.  Desperate, his eyes scan the crowd for familiar faces, one in particular.  Ranjiri is not here.

The rest of her speech goes by in a blur, with her meek voice not helping him to pay heed to her words.  He catches some information - Sikeax is now Sultana, leaving Megaera as... what, exactly?  Something about a group known as the Unbound, something about Volterra being the Gladiator now, all muddled between the chaos reigning in Cathun's mind.  The world began to shift beneath his hooves; fighting the urge to turn tail, to run, to go back on the promise to himself that he would live.  Lost, ever so lost, he stands, a pyre for a body and a heart sinking below the sands.

""

I owned every second that this world could give
I saw so many places, the things that I did
With every broken bone, I swear I lived
Image Credits! Coding @ Tamme

» Magic and Violence is permitted at all times
» Please tag me!

Tyrath Posts: 61
Outcast atk: 5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6
Stallion :: Tribrid :: 17.2 :: 2 [birdsong] HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Harcos :: Common Red Dragon :: Fire Breath Nova
#4

Condemned to Predetermined


The death of the Sultan hadn't escaped the skull marked colt, not when he saw what upset and hurt it had brought to his ma. He doesn't like, no he loathes the idea that anyone could blame her for the former Sultan's passing, it wasn't her fault after all. He's not big enough to shield her like his pa could, but be damned if he'd keep his mouth shut should anyone aim a verbal barb her way. His knowledge is limited on Gaucho, he is a brief image of fire and dun which resonates from memories he had at birth, stood to the side offering his mother healing. It's in the blurry streak of fire which often soared over the throat, followed by murmured, admiring comments and snippets of nearby herd members. Tyrath doesn't mourn, though he feels a strange sort of something — an acknowledgement of something great had left the world, that so much power had whispered into the wind on a pillar of fire.

Instead, he focuses on the fact that his ma and his father are now both in the Throat — that his ma is Sultana now, blessed no less by his Grandfather. Pride and happiness blossomed in his young chest for her, crimson eyes alight with encouragement whenever he spotted her. He's not sure what his father will do yet, whether it's a permanent stay, or simply he's here until the tides changed and off he goes to the mainland once more. He's content that his family is all together, somewhat, there's still siblings out there that don't call the sands home.

Dragon's Throat! Please come to me!

Ears pressed forward as the soft, albeit harsh notes of Sikeax's summons are heard. His head raised from it's spot upon trodden down grasses and his spindled legs give a stretch outward, wings also stretched toward the sky to shake the idleness from their bones. He's never heard her call like that, and he assumed it's had something to do with her new position. With that in mind, he rose and hoisted himself into the air with a running leap, caught on the heated winds of the Throat.

It was easy to find her, her champagne coat shimmered in the sunlit like a vision, a beacon that all could follow. A miniature sun. Tyrath landed beside her after a brief circle around the gathered group already there, wings folded neatly against his sides while his nose sought her neck to press a fleeting token of affection to her. Soon enough, she began speaking and the colt fell into statuesque silence while his eyes flitted over all present. Words spared towards the untimely demise of Gaucho are met with an unreadable response on his changing features. Only the pale mare drew any kind of acknowledgement from the tribrid, an ear turned toward where she stood before it returned to it's stoic vigil.

The Unbound didn't draw surprise from him either, he had met one of their idiotic kin in the threshold with his ma. An embarrassment was an understatement, and it provoked a snort from his ember stoked nostrils. The colt was glad Sikeax was pushing to have them removed like a stain on a pristine silk cloak. It was a shame he wasn't old enough to join in, he would of delighted at the chance to aid in ridding them permanently. He'd just have to settle on what the warriors and spies would tell him, if he could get them to share the tales of their hunts.


When Volterra's name is mentioned, naturally his body shifted into something more engaged and present, crimson pits search the crowd for his formidable apa as Sikeax voiced that he had been promoted to Gladiator. A Smile appeared on his fanged maw and the fires upon his spine burned much more fiercely, head bobbed once toward his apa as a form of congratulations. It was not quite king, but an impressive title for an equally impressive behemoth forged from the fires of battle.





Damnation for Eternity


Ella-Erdbeer @ DA
[Image: tyrath_by_bronzehalo_d9yw5wg_by_arahvir-d9yx9ov.png]

Volterra the Indomitable Posts: 785
Dragon's Throat Sultan atk: 8.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 8.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17'2hh :: 3 HP: 80 | Buff: SENSE
Vérzés :: Common Red Dragon :: Frost Breath & Toxic Breath & Vadir :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath & Shock Breath Snow
#5


On the battlefield, Volterra is fearless. This is not always a good thing; he fights with a berserker rage that often leads to colossal injuries to himself, fuelled by his dauntless personality and never-say-die attitude. In everyday life, too, he is not the sort to fret or worry. He takes each day as it comes, and never allows himself to be plagued with anxiety.

So why is the prospect of a herd meeting making him so damn nervous?

His heart hammers a drumbeat against his chest and he feels oddly sick; even his limbs are tingling with anticipation. Feeding off his odd mood, his dragons are fractious and boisterous, pelting through the air next to him and wrestling each other in furious bouts of snarling and hissing. Calm yourselves, he commands. This is the first time he will be meeting the majority of the herd, and he does not want his dragons setting a bad example. With growls of disgust, they separate and fly on either side of him, soaring low against the ground like glimmering bullets.

It is Sikeax's cry that has summoned the blackened warlord. It is her voice that has brought on this sudden fit of apprehension as the goliath steps into the unknown. He is only just growing used to herd life - sharing grazing spots and resisting the urge to bite anybody who comes near his favoured ones, being around other horses for longer than a few minutes - so his zen is all out of whack. His first herd meeting is just another step, and one that makes him genuinely worried for the first time in his life. What if they all hate him? What if he says something stupid? What if he does not command their respect because he is new to the herd?

With a wry smile, the mammoth stallion reasons that it is best he gets these anxieties out of the way whilst he is Gladiator rather than king. This is all a learning curve for him, one that, given his youth and life as an outcast, he is keen to embark upon. Vadir lands heavily onto his back and stands tall and proud, a great hulking beast of a dragon riding upon a great hulking beast of a horse. "They will respect more when they see you bonded to me," she purrs, and the colossus is inclined to agree. Vérzés hums sadly and slows his flight so as to hide out of sight from the watchful eyes of the herd - he fears it will harm Volterra's reputation to be bonded to a mere red - but the stallion firmly commands that he stays close, smothering his companion's protestations. You are not shameful, he reassures the dragon. You are part of me, and the herd must see you as well as Vadir. You're not my dirty little secret - you are every bit as strong as she is. This earns a joyous snort from the red, and an irritated growl from the gold.

Finally he's there, and it is surreal to see Sikeax standing as queen. He flashes her a smile as he halts beside Tyrath, and is pleased to see the boy growing strong. "Szia, fiam." Hello, son. "I hope your father living in the same herd as you isn't going to cramp your style." A wolfish grin spreads across his jowls as he attempts to touch his muzzle affectionately to Tyrath's shoulder. It fades as Sikeax begins to speak, and his ears ram forwards to give her his full attention. Now he's here, his nerves have somewhat abated and he feels quite calm, although evidence of his anxiety lingers in the form of the sweat that beads across the bulging muscles of his body.

His heartbeat increases again when Sikeax introduces him, although he hides it well and stands tall and strong to emphasise the power etched through his limbs as well as the golden dragon sat imperiously upon his back. The queen suggests he meets with his warriors, so with a curt nod the stud addresses the herd for the first time. "Warriors, I will call a meeting in the next few days to discuss how we intend to work." Despite the worry in his chest, his voice is strong and authorative. It is unwavering, commandeering. He has to be strong in front of the warriors who will no doubt be sizing him up, judging who Sikeax has brought into the herd - he cannot show any weakness, any chink in his armour.

IF IT FEELS GOOD, TASTES GOOD, IT MUST BE MINE
HEROES ALWAYS GET REMEMBERED BUT YOU KNOW LEGENDS NEVER DIE
image: chan <3

[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far  ]
[ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]




Ampere The Mother of Companions Posts: 719
Dragon's Throat Sultana atk: 9 | def: 11 | dam: 4.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14 hh :: 6 years HP: 73 | Buff: DANCE
Kygo :: Green Cheek Conure :: None Blu
#6


Slowly drifting, drifting away, wave after wave

She almost doesn't come.

It wouldn't have been due to any form of protest, but rather because depression weighed so heavily on her, that Ampere barely has the will to eat, much less attend herd duties. It is perhaps only because of her new child's need to survive that she even finds the strength to get up each morning, to push whatever bits of foliage into her mouth that she does... but will it be enough? Gaucho was her sun, and without him she now stumbles in the dark, guided not even by stars or moonlight (for that was Mesec, and he was lost too...). Ampere only has the random forks of lightning to lead her, and then only when a storm is raging.

She almost doesn't come, because she is lost.

Only because she was near enough does she answer the call, her child in tow; Kygo played a large role in encouraging her too. So she stands, kind of - she's a bit woozy on her feet, as adrift physically as she is emotionally - and barely focuses on what is said. That Sikeax stands up there and says anything at all is just another reminder that he is gone, and that in and of itself is crippling to Ampere.

Now that the heat of the moment (or lack there of, given the loss of the Wildfire) is gone, Ampere is tangled up with despair instead of anger. Initially she'd needed someone to blame, as we all are prone to want when things get fucked up. Because without blame we feel even more hopeless, because how else can we fix it so there's no tragedy again? How else can we move one, if not to punish someone and feel better? Someone, something, has to have caused it and be held accountable. It had been easy enough for Ampere to put this on Sikeax, the head healer. Why hadn't she helped him sooner? Why hadn't she done enough to save him? Did she want the crown all along, did she sabotage him? such dark thoughts ailed Ampere, and still did, quietly whispered somewhere in her scattered mind. Even though she had always liked Sikeax before, even though the God of the Sun found her worthy to give the crown, it hadn't been enough to keep Ampere's blame at bay. Those are rational things, but grief is anything but, and it is cruel to expect sanity from such a significant sadness.

In time, perhaps Ampere would find her mind again, but this was not that time. Gaucho's body was still fresh, his mark upon nearly every inch of the Dragon's Throat - and certainly in half of its inhabitant's bloodlines. She hoped the herd, her family, would not hold her torment against her when its cause was so clear - she hoped they would not turn so violently against her when her heart was torn from her chest and burned to ash alongside the corpse. All that she had done for this land and its kin, surely meant something after all this time - it surely meant she could at least mourn.
At least,s he might have hoped these things, thought these things, if she'd any notion to consider herself and the situation. All she could see was what was no longer present though. Gaucho.

There was something Sikeax said that got Ampere's attention though. Surely, if she'd been in a better state of mind she would have assessed Volterra, an inevitable judgement given his important role and the fact she use to have it. Likely she would have found him acceptable, given what seemed to be a noticeable affinity towards the battlefield just by looking at him, and given that she knew she was not in a capable state to take up that reign once more. Except that wasn't it, and Ampere wasn't of sound enough mine to care enough about a complete stranger holding such a rank.

No, What Ampere paid attention to, was Sikeax's proclamation that they imprison what appeared to be a wholly innocent group of horses.
Gaucho hadn't taken all of Ampere with him when he left, just the good parts of her, the parts sunlight had always been able to touch.

"NO!" she screamed out suddenly from the crowd, her eyes bright as the blue lifted from tracing some shadow on the ground. Fierce, they locked onto Sikeax. "We cannot rip the liberty away from someone, least of all for such an empty reason! The Unbound hasn't wronged us, you're just annoyed by their presence? Unbelievable!" her words were flung like spit from her maw, such was her rage. Around her sparks danced to electric life, drawn forward by her strong emotion. "Do you intend to begin as a tyrant, Sikeax the Freedom Slayer?" Sikeax the Fire Killer.

What was most shocking perhaps, was the lack of other voices she heard. Was the rest of the herd okay with this, this breach of integrity?!

Ampere's love for Gaucho was massive, and the loss of him halved her, but the roots of her ethics ran deeper than her heart, and they bristled now from the very marrow of her bones.


I wish I could make it easy, easy to love me
a M P E R E
Looking for the right words to say, feels like I'm drowning

equusamor.deviantart

Tag me only if starting a new thread.
Magic or force permitted any time, aside from death.

Iskra Posts: 79
Dragon's Throat Colt
Colt :: Pegasus :: 17 :: 1 year
Castiel :: Royal Humpback Leviathan :: Tidal Wave Blu
#7
He is quiet. His legs have grown stronger, and with them his confidence is bolstered and his curiosity magnified, but the world he has known thus far, as short as his knowing is yet, has been sad. His mother, a monolith in his youth, would have cast a shadow regardless, but the one she puts over him now seems heavy. He can't remember a smile, or a laugh, or a night that wasn't met with tears, and so he travels alongside her with his own morose affliction.

She moves and he follows, clinging to the back end of her limbs and the sway of her tail. He weaves in and out, a game to go fast enough or else risk being stepped on, but it's not that hard of a game because of how slow she moves. He must admit, he's pretty impressed that he's already faster than his mom.

She stops suddenly and his haunches and fluff of a tail tuck as he barely eeks out of the way. Appearing from underneath her on her other side, Iskra looks up, noticing all the other horses that have gathered. Shyly he scuttles back under her belly, grabbing a drink as his ears swivel around to all the voices.

Abruptly her voice joins them, a crack unlike any he'd heard before. He freezes beneath her, afraid he'd done something, but she pays him no heed. Like fireflies spark erupt, beautiful and strange. Iskra reaches out for one, and nearly yelps as it sizzles against his plush maw.
He's learned something new already, Ampere's anger is scary.

[hello dead muse! My Ampere posting spree has drained everything x.x]

Victory is in my veins
I will not negotiate
Iskra
background texture credit to Stuart Rankin at flickr.com

Tag me only if starting a new thread.
Magic or force permitted any time, aside from death.

Megaera the Sunspear Posts: 306
Absent Abyss atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 4.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15 h :: 8 [Birdsong] HP: 70 | Buff: NOVICE
Gwaihir :: Golden Eagle :: None Laine
#8
The Sunspear had retrieved her armor and the rest of her belongings from their hiding place in the oasis. Castor had wanted to wear the skull so she had indulged him and sent him on ahead with his father. Black eyes took a look around the familiar lake, hoping to find something to stir up fond memories, but it was no use. Somehow, with these new eyes everything she saw looked just different enough to break her heart. Megaera still struggled to make sense of Gaucho's passing, but struggled when she half expected to see his flaming wings rising over every rise she looked upon. She hadn't realized just how vital he had been to everything she had loved here. 

She had loved him.

Not with the passion that Ampere had, not with the steady warmth of Sohalia, and not in the way that she loved Einarr, but Meg had loved Gaucho. So much more worthy of the title father was he than the monster she had slain, father and mentor and guide and friend. Her life here in Helovia had all been built upon him and to lose his reassuring presence had shaken everything she had taken for granted. She had always taken confidence in the faith Gaucho had shown in her, and now that was gon, and the Sun's favor with it. It was almost unbearably symbolic that this fall of the Wildfire and the Sunspear had come as Tallsun died away and left it's throne to the moon...to the cold.

Einarr was right, and as much as she had fought it initially, she had given in to his suggestion, they had to leave the Throat. As much love as she still had for sun and shore and sand, something had shifted in such a strange and uncomfortable way that this just wasn't her home anymore. They would take their children and... well, she wasn't sure what they would do, but they couldn't stay here. 

When she head the summons she almost ignored it, perhaps she should have but the gathering has already in her path and so she came upon it eventually and the bile rose in her throat. She had tried not to be angry, tried not to be bitter, but the sight of someone else in her place had a torrid heat burning in the Sunspear's gut. She had though the Sun had had faith in her, but he had replaced her. She had been searching for her missing child and had been demoted and replace apparently before Gaucho's body had cooled. To take the Wildfire from her but the Sun had taken her family in the same stroke. The God's will could not be supplanted in his own domaine but had any of them objected? Had any of them thought her as a ruler in her own right? No...to all of them she had just been Gaucho's second, his lackey, his stooge!

She came upon the meeting halfway through it's current trajectory; soon enough to gather that this mysterious black behemoth Volterra was taking her husbands place just and unceremoniously and Sikeax had taken hers. Not only that, but this stranger was already about to lead an inquisition over a band of outsiders who had made no move to harm them. As protective as Meg had been of the Throat, she had never gone that far. The armor-clad battlemare came to a halt beside Ampere as she spoke out and like the blue sparks that cracked around the Mother of Companions, Meg now had sparks of her own. The buzzed in her very eyes, making them glow red from the slits in her steel helm. "You're mad, Sikeax, if you think to start your reign this way." She took up the thread Apmere had begun and growled it at the new Sultana before sending a scathing glance at Volterra and back. "The Wildfire not gone a season and you bring some stranger here to lead the Throat into fight with NO more justification than YOU feel uncomfortable on your pedestal?! You command 'warriors and spies' but what does a healer know of such things?!" She hadn't intended to burn bridges, but for the love she had for the throat she wouldn't stand for this.

[Mentioned @Ampere @Sikeax & @Volterra]


M E G A E R A
passionately smashin’ every expectation
FAC FORTIA ET PATERE
be brave and endure
:: permission given for use of magic and force :: please tag Megaera in all posts ::

Amani Posts: 99
Deceased atk: 6.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 3.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.3 :: Three Years HP: 60.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Emily
#9

AMANI


After my dance with Hector, I feel, different. I am still upset over our Sultan's passing, but I don't know. I can't put my hoof on it. Well, other than my mood seemed to be lifted a bit. Someone out there, cared for me. Someone else, wanted me. Someone else, had taken me. I have been praying to the God of the Sun, to bless our union with a child. To let me carry on and give new life to the Throat. One that was not of the Wildfire's bloodline. We may all be family, but not by blood. New blood to the Throat is always a good thing. My mind is humming with sleepy thoughts and wonderful dreams.

Today I woke, and noticed my sides slightly swollen. Could it be? “DRAGON’S THROAT!” The words barely caught my ears. “PLEASE COME TO ME!” I stood up from the sands, almost at once looking around for Hector or anyone else that may be close. I saw no one as first. The winds seemed to tug on my mane and tail at once. This meeting was important, and I could not afford to miss it. With a few strides I take to the skies. I was not alone, as others were heading for the new Sultana as well. By the time I arrived, several others were already gathered. I stood off to the side, in hopes that maybe Hector or Cera or anyone I knew really would come stand with me.

Then, once most had gathered the meeting began. Of course, Sikeax began by announcing the Wildfire's death to those who did not know. A wave of grief hit me hard. The scab that had begun to cover the loss of the Sultan was ripped off to bleed freely again. Tears trailed down my face without warning. Now I needed someone near me. I was struggling to pull myself back together before she continued on. She apologized for not being able to save him. My voice cracked as I spoke. "If you could not save him, then only the God of the Sun could. Perhaps He did, in the best way He could.... Even if it was not the best way in our minds. You are not at fault Sultana." My words were for both Sikeax and the herd. After all, we all were still hurting.

I was not the only one to speak, and then she continued. Even in the wake of a loss as huge as this one, we had to go on. If we did not, then the Throat would fall. She spoke of an outcast band, and the need to be in the threshold. I nodded. However if the slight swell in my sides was correct, I would not be going to far from the Throat for a while unless I had need to. She kept going, introducing our new Gladiator as well. I glance over to the strong stallion, and silently thank the God of the Sun for such strong knights among our family. We, while at our weakest, would be protected. We would recover, and we would push forward. All for the glory of the God of the Sun.

"their speech goes here and this is the color



OOC: Oh man.... The emotions in this post for me..... way to close to home.....

Please Tag Amani in All Posts
Permission granted to use magic or physical force with Amani at any time for any reason to any degree, with the exception of killing her.

Cera the Golden Prince Posts: 419
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 16.3hh :: 6 Years HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Ilaria :: Red Panda :: Heal Brit
#10





The meeting is called, but Cera lingers at the edges of the trailing bodies. His eyes are dull, even as his stance is rigid and militant. There is nothing left to give, here. There is nothing left at all. He remains with Bella at his side, Sikeax heading the meeting with grace and surety that Cera was sure she did not feel privately. But as the others explode, Cera's eyes slip shut, and he strides quietly to the front of the pack, turning to face the herd but standing before Sikeax. A bodily shield. Quiet, deadened. He stares out at them, piercing Ampere and Megaera with his lackluster gaze. Both his friends, both dear to his heart, and yet he cannot summon any singular emotion to respond to them with. 

"Neither is right," he says monotone at Ampere. "Imprisoning or attacking them immediately is not the right course of action if we do not know why they exist or what their plans are. But you should know out of anyone Ampere that the wilds cannot hold a band that size for long. Either they will join a herdland or forcefully take it. Which is more likely according to Helovian history? But we need more information before anything should be done, that is undeniable." This is directed at the both of them, Sultana and Blue both. Then his eyes drift to Megaera, feeling so dead and hollowed inside that he can barely stand to defend Sikeax, much less against his two closest friends. But someone must, even if he barely has the energy to attend this train wreck of a meeting. 

"What did you know of diplomacy before your ascension, Megaera? Do you doubt the God of the Sun's judgment of Sikeax just because she is a healer? A healer who has been here longer than you, a healer who has saved countless Throat citizens?" He grits his teeth, frustration the only emotion he can even feel as his blood runs hot. It seemed he and Megaera were more often at odds lately, both when Rasta had appeared on their borders and now here as well. But whatever bitterness she was feeling over her decrowning was not acceptable as an excuse for Cera. Why were they fighting already? Was Gaucho's death not enough for them? 

"If you have issue with Volterra then challenge him. You have fielded similar actions against yourself. Prove for yourself, more than anyone else's word, that he is fit for the title." And then he lifted his wings and finally lifted his voice, furious with their betrayal, their disgusting lack of respect for Gaucho's death. That they gathered here beneath the Throat banner and yet tore each other apart like a hyena upon a hen was disgraceful to him. 

"Gaucho is DEAD. Moving forward is all we have left, and change is inevitable. At least try and be civil instead of spitting on his memory, because HE was the one who made this herd a family. Yet we are here, tearing each other apart like vultures." He spat, fire finally returning to his eyes only to remind him of his own anger. Wings snapped shut and he glared restlessly down at those gathered. 

"If you require my abilities as a Forger, seek me out. I will call you to a meeting if you've the title of my rank. Until then I expect we all will need time to grieve." And at last he turns to Sikeax, standing alone and unsupported at the head of them all. So small, with no other ruler at her side. He does not envy her, not for this. Not when she is already dealing with the misplaced guilt of not saving Gaucho, the birth of their daughter, and her sudden, unexpected ascension. 

"You acknowledge your lack of experience with humility and kindness, Sultana. That you ask for the experience of those who came before you is respectable, and yet they spit in your face. God of the Sun save us all, that your patience extends to these matters as well." And then he spins and stalks off, away from the meeting without a single regret at turning his back on the squabbling vipers behind him. He does not have the energy for this, for them. And he will not ruin himself trying to ease their jagged edges. Their internal hurt leads to external, and he cannot withstand any more wounds upon his person. 

"May Gaucho rest unaware of the fracture in his family," he spat hatefully, disappearing towards the fires to craft his despair away in silent grief. 
Image by Jen


Directly mentions Ampere and Megaera as well as Sikeax. Leaves at the end, so if anyone wants to respond to him he won't hear it. But we can set up another thread if you want ;D
Please only tag starting posts, spars, and threads collecting dust!

Sabia Posts: 58
Outcast
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15hh :: 6 (Orangemoon)
Mouse
#11
Sabia
"Shit, shit, shit!"
Sabia is late to her first herd meeting, she had only met Sikeax once when they both stood in the water under a full moon but what would Sikeax think of her now? The mare's cream colored wings take her down until Sabia's hooves touch the sand. There are so many horses already here and what she can hear from her one good ear is anger, towards Sikeax. Sabia lands next to a black and blue Pegasus lady who yells and sparks about how Sikeax is wrong, Sabia cant help but flinch, she likes their new Sultana and has no anger whatsoever about her plans. So the mare stays quiet and takes in what is happening.

There is another Pegasus, this man voice his opinion as well but this time he supports Sikeax, the mare can't help but feel grateful for his voice in the matter.

It is then Sabia takes notice of the little colt underneath the blue Pegasus who was so against Sikeax. At first Sabia is reluctant to say anything in fear that the angry mama would attack Sabia but her affection towards children takes over anyways. The mare lowers her head to his height and gives a soft smile, her sea colored eyes light up at how young he looks. Sabia misses the feeling of caring for a child so much it almost hurts.

"Hello little one, I'm sure this yelling isn't fun for you" she says in her soft light tone. The yelling isn't fun for her so she can only imagine how it made the colt feel, out of habit Sabia's deaf ear begins to twitch trying to catch any sound it could (which was nothing).

"I'm Sabia, what's your name?" She questions sounding cheerful and light.
Put me through hell again, I miss the fire.
 Notes:  Sabia arrives late and speaks to a child hiding under his mama.

@Iskra
" Stolen friends and disease, Operator please.
Patch me back to my mind.
But everybody knows.
That a broken heart is blind."


Force/violence is allowed as long as Sabia does not die or is maimed.
please tag if mentioned!

Tae Posts: 133
Dragon's Throat Alchemist atk: 7.0 | def: 10 | dam: 4.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.2 :: 2 HP: 72.5 |
Mal :: Timber Wolf :: Terrorize & Hel :: Royal Hellhound :: Hellfire Odd
#12

Tae could feel her loyalties being torn.

On the one hand, she had an unwavering devotion to the Sun God. If she had taken nothing else from Gaucho, she had that. That he had seen fit to raise Sikeax from her position as healer to Sultana was not a decision she would actively question.

However what many had said as of late seemed appropriate. She had no experience but seemed to be making rash decisions.

Tae's pale eyes were not ignorant of the triangle that she could now see, between the boy Zhu, son of Sikeax, and Volterra. Tyrath had also adopted the from healer as a parent, and he too was a son of Volterra.

And now Volterra had ascended to one of the most important positions within their herd, without even having been a member. Without wings.

Tension wracked the girls' body as her eyes starred unbelieving around. There were more faces that she didn't recognize, than ones she did. With her teeth clenched, the mandible-marked filly moved to stand near Ampere and -- ? Her pale eyes looked at Iskra for only a moment, for there wasn't place in her mind or hearth for this potential new brother. Now, there was only rage and grief and confusion.

So, with a small huff, she stood by Ampere's side. She was too young to do anything about what was happening: she could not challenge, and so there was no point in yelling. Still, her eyes washed skeptically over the new upper class of the Throat.



tae
this was your heart, this swarm of flies
This was once your mouth - this bowl of lies
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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
#13

The stallion had been hanging out under his usual tree since his dance with Amani. He hadn't had a chance to talk to Amani since that night, and was hoping he would have the chance to do so soon. He and Veci both were startled by the call that rang out across the throat. It was Sikeax, calling a meeting it seemed. He quickly made his way towards the source of her call, large wings spread slightly as he cantered. Giving a small nod of greeting to Cera as he left, the stallion made his way over towards Amani. The liver chestnut stallion noted that her sides were ever so slightly swollen, and greeted her with a soft whicker. He would talk with her later about that, after the meeting. At Sikeax's words of someone they didn't know taking the rank of Gladiator, and noting that the said stallion had no wings, he decided to speak up.

"Sikeax, excuse me for being disrespectful, but please explain why you brought a stranger into our midst. I trust you, as I have for awhile, but please explain yourself. This new stallion could be a threat to us for all we know. I don't want our mothers and foals to feel insecure with an unknown stallion leading the warriors of the herd." As he spoke of mothers and foals, he gently spread a wing over Amani's back protectively. Ever since noting the slight change in Amani's form, he automatically became more protective over the younger mare. He scooted a bit closer to Amani as well, all the while looking at Sikeax for her thoughts on the subject matter he presented. He hoped that this issue could be resolved peacefully and quietly.

Text. "Speech."



• Dragon's Throat Rank Experience: Fortify | Level 3
• Permission given for moderate power play, magical influence and damage at all times

Misael Posts: 97
Outcast atk: 5 | def: 9 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.3 HH :: 7 years HP: 69 | Buff: NOVICE
Lazarus :: Melanistic Lion :: None ShadowMare
#14

Miseal


The Throat was a mess, all tattered and broken by grief, fueled and fired with anger, a wicked concoction of pain. He listens from the sidelines, his faith pulling him to the chosen leader, but is heart agreeing with the pains of the herd. He did not disrespect her for titling Volterra, the stallion he had passed by a few times before, he seemed powerful enough to train worthy soldiers, but Miseal understood the fear of assuming that man was who he says he is. His eyes switch between the anger and the harsh words that are leaked out by one member then another, a true mess. The Dragon's throat had once been sheltered and warmed by the fire, they had watched it burn as it burned for the last time, fading further and further into only ashen memories, and now without the fire, the throat chocked. So here he was, watching as they choked, desperately wanting to do something, but knowing that this sort of hurt, it was a different strand of agony.

He had things to speak of, but shouting and emotional chatter poured into his ears, did no one here understand civilization? He shallowed the anger the begun to rise, for then that would put him no better than his fellows who had too cracked. Sikeax was the leader, she wasn't chosen to cause the fall of the throat, the Sun God believed in her, and that made Miseal too. Perhaps she was new in her rule, but quirks and mistakes are expected in any new job. He had thought the Dragon's Throat was better then this.

Miseal looked for the woman's eyes, hoping that if she caught his, she would find reassurance and encouragement within his fiery gold orbs. Turning his attention to the shouts, he looked helplessly back and forth, glancing at Lazarus as if the lion could help him. Later, he would send the lion to tell the spies of his meeting, which this time, would not be tolerated if no one showed. The Throat was vulnerable, he could feel the peace of Helovia conjure something nasty underneath him, this herd had to be strong, very strong for whatever that was to trial them.

Keeping his stature strong, the chromed observes, should someone wish for otherwise, he was all arms. But the hurt egos, the broken hearts, it turned the meeting grounds into a mess of mines and bombs, just waiting for the next to go off. He knew that throwing instruction would only be pushed aside, he would meet with his spies but for now, Miseal bit down on the urge to jump into the havoc that had already begun.

OCC: There's so much going on mis can't find a place to speak, spies-expect a meeting, there will be jobs and targets handed out as well as general information. Miseal will also be looking for someone to fill the informant rank beneath him, so do keep that in mind.


coding | art © skies-will-fall
Please tag in all posts, all force is permitted

[Image: shadowmare098_by_ehrendi-da6sr2s.png]

Najya Posts: 90
Dragon's Throat Alchemist atk: 7 | def: 10 | dam: 4
Mare :: Equine :: 15.1 :: 7 (Tallsun) HP: 67.5 | Buff: NOVICE
A'mal :: Plain White Dragon :: Shock Breath Kiki
#15

"EVERYTHING YOU WANT IS A DREAM AWAY."

Najya arrived at the meeting after most of the others had already arrived.  A’mal had alerted her to the gathering when the call had been lost on the wind, or perhaps the little mare had just been too consumed in her thoughts.  Either way, the gentle nudge from the steadfast little dragon was all that was necessary to spur her into action. 

She listened quietly as the new Sultana addressed the gathered, and since she was unfamiliar  with many of the people and groups that the mare spoke of, she found it prudent to reserve judgment for the time being.  It was obvious that many took issue with some of Sikeax’s decisions, but it was doubly obvious that the sands still mourned for their fallen sultan. 

Death was effortless. 
Peaceful for most.  A last breath and a final heartbeat followed by nothing but an eternity of silence.  Najya could see the sadness. The anger. The guilt.

Mourning was not as effortless.  While the dead rest easy, grief isn’t always something as easy for the living the bear.  She could see evidence of that now. Her heart broke to see it. To feel it.  She’d lived this grief before. 

But Najya said nothing, because she knew there was nothing she could say to assuage the grief for those who were suffering.  Gods knew she had long since lost her taste for politics.  She’d seen empires rise and fall before, and even the most treasured of empires could be interrupted by the unexpected.  However Najya retained some faith in the Gods, and appointing Sikeax lead had been the Sun God’s decision.  She trusted in that for now, though it was not enough to shake all the sorrow. 

A’mal felt the change in mood by her bonded and cut short her hunting expedition to rejoin the mare.  She landed with a somewhat admirable amount of grace upon the slender mare’s back and sat at the base of her neck where Najya kept her assortment of gloriously shiny things tied to the sheath that held her sword.  It was interesting for one who wanted to be trained in healing to be so armed, but after what she’d seen in the battles with the Riftian gods she never again wanted to know how it felt to be defenseless. 

It was only when the voices quieted that she finally stepped forward, dipping her head in greeting and as a sign of respect for the newly crowned Sultana. ”Sikeax, I’d appreciate any knowledge of healing you could share. My mother was a healer, but the herbs and methods that we used I’ve not seen here in Helovia.” It was a simple statement, but Najya truly did want to learn.   Above all she wanted to be useful.  She couldn’t bear to lose another family. 

- N A J Y A -

image credit


@Sikeax addressed directly

Please tag NAJYA in all replies. 
Force & magic are permitted, but please check before inflicting serious injury.
Thank you!
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Ilios Posts: 200
Dragon's Throat Informant atk: 5 | def: 9 | dam: 6
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 15 :: 4 (Frostfall) HP: 66.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Isabella :: Common Rougarou :: Flame Parelia
#16

Ever since the birth of his twins the stallion and his companion had been on cloud nine. He adored his children more than anything, well, besides other people's children. Isabella rolled her golden eyes while sending him happy emotions. Laughing brightly he snorted at her deer face playfully. Her wings flapped open and she took off flying high above him. Silver eyes watched her as she twirled and soared above him. Ilios couldn't believe how much she had grown and how strong she was becoming. His chest swelled for a moment before he let out a happy breath.

A sudden call to arms caught the attention of the duo. Suddenly grumpy Isabella waited for Ilios to join her, which he did in a heart beat. He wasn't sure why the healer was calling the herd forth, but he would be damned if he ignored the call. Wings beat at the air as the pair raced for the group. Isabella spied the mare first with a few others gathered around. 'Come on Isabella, this is our family, you have to be nice to them.' He heard her soft bleat of unhappy acceptance before following him to the ground. He knew several of the faces, and had seen most of the others around.

Isabella shifted to her silver wolf form and strode proudly next to her bonded tail up and twitching slightly in the large group. Ilios grinned brightly as he strode up to the massive stallion he hadn't seen since they were both merely colts. "Volterra, it's been a while." He smirked and looked the now monstrous stallion over, since he sister wasn't there to get eye banged by the man, he had no issues with him. As Sikeax began to speak he turned his attention to her curiously. His curiosity was stroked as she spoke of circumstances, because he had no idea what was up. The news she shared struck him through the heart. Gaucho had died? His heart twisted through his heart. Isabella whimpered and leaned against his teal ivy leg trying to comfort her stunned friend. His ears swiveled backwards as it sunk in what had happened. The one that had allowed him to call this place home was gone. He missed most of what she said, but Isabella drew him back. He tuned the new Sultana back in as she spoke of the Unbound. He wasn't sure how he felt about her wanting to take them out.

He knew, first hoof, how an outcast band could smash a family, but had this band really done anything wrong? He listened to all of the chatter about it trying to shove his feelings a side. He turned his head to look at Volterra, "I plan on being there." He had no intention of calling this stud sir, not yet anyway. Ampere and Megaera's words confused him. He thought it was wrong to destroy the band, but loyalty to his leader and herd drew him two ways. Thinking over his words he spoke up when an opportunity arose. "Sikeax, I volunteer to seek out this band and speak to them. It would give us an insight to what their intentions are. I know how dangerous and outcast band can be, but I believe we should speak to them before we strike." He tried to make eye contact with her. If she agreed, he would seek her out after the meeting, and see what she wanted him to learn from the group.

---------------------------------------------
Speaking
Words;; 581
OOC/Tags;; @Volterra @Sikeax   

You must be true to your heart..
[Image: silver_dreamer_mist_by_cantatus_promise-d8flci6.gif] [Image: mwaCGuX.gif]
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Maren the Crownless Posts: 264
Outcast atk: 5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 6
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.0 :: 6 HP: 70 | Buff: NOVICE
Mr. Teatime :: Siberian Tiger :: Sing Yewrezz
#17


BY THE PRECEPTS OF HER PURITY

She had seen the new Gladiator before. Multiple times, as he had been, like her,  fighting the False Gods. Yet, he was still an outsider. He could not have any reasons to become what was given to him by Sikeax. He could not yet understand the principles of their herd, the ways of their living. Why the hurry, Sultana — Are you afraid? Even if it wasn’t the truth, there was no other way than to see it as favoritism, which the diviner did not thought a wise move so early into her rank. However, it sure was interesting. Maren glanced at him from her place in quiet judgement while she listened to him talk. He seemed strong willed, tough, possibly dedicated to his job… But truly, she hadn’t liked Einar much, so she couldn’t care less about him being gone, anyway.

Taken care off? Maren couldn't help being a little bit surprised by this and tuhs could she only wonder if the girl had thought it through; if she had a plan, a strategy. After Gaucho's death the herd had become chaotic, frail as well. This was not a time of war, but a time of defense, regrouping. If this band was truly a danger, why hadn't their allies shared their worries about it with them. As they were now, hasty methods could weaken them even further. There seemed to grow unease among the crowd.

Ampere spoke up, not to her surprise, with words reckless and too unrefined for Maren’s taste. She did not like listening to someone jumping to conclusions. However, for some reason she couldn’t blame the Mother of Companions either. Even though they were so different to each other, for a mere second she felt a sting of understanding. She remembered Shadow, how she had been an outcast. Had she been wrong? She had been off this land, yet an outcast as well… alone. Dead. Megaera’s voice followed into the beaten path of the blue mare, the same accusations flowing from her chest. Maren closed her eyes to the scene, sighing to herself — Couldn’t help thinking that if only there had been this much objection to the destroying of the bridge… Huff.

She heard Cera’s voice, a voice of kindness, of reason and she dared to open her eyes again in the hope the heated discussion would cool off or finally get somewhere. She glanced at him from under her lashes and of course he was what she had thought; a standing of justification and calmness, caring about their emotions… But when she looked at his face she realized that he didn’t seem to be there. Maren swallowed, feeling guilty that she hadn’t stepped forward to cool the hot headed damsels off herself instead, whatever the opinions may be. Why won’t you be our Sultan, Cera? But as soon as she thought it she redirected those feelings to the black depths, for if Cera was meant to become their Sultan, He would’ve given it to him already. Right?

At some point she heard her own voice statically frame itself around  challenging reluctance for the brand new alpha mare. “There would lie little to no wisdom in the making of new enemies, when we are the weakest that we have been in years.” Her eyes lay still on the Sultana. Weak; it shows even in the haste of our speech. It did not matter how much she might want to praise her new leader. She did not stand for foolishness, she did not accept stupidity. Like Megaera, Ampere, Cera and all the rest, she loved the Dragon’s Throat, too. Too much to merely watch it wither and die like a flower in her care. Even with His blessing, there was a time for both fighting and healing and, although Maren wasn’t a healer, she would’ve thought Sikeax especially to be aware of their needs right now. Perhaps the girl simply hasn’t noticed how much the herd has depended on Gaucho. Now, however, it was who Sikeax was, the gift she had mastered, what they as a herd needed the most.

“I offer you my wisdom and my guidance, Sikeax, make use of it however you wish, whenever you need.” She bowed her head. No other Sultan or Sultana had ever asked for her council, had ever used her mind as she wished for it to be used. She kept wasting words on it, yet she would continue offering it again and again. It was her job and she was as patient as always. Like a fruit; there for the taking, to be useful  — for some reason forgotten about. Then the next season she would re-appear. To be forgotten about. Again.

//Let's just casually pretend I'm not way too late for this kay?
Mentioned: Ampere, Megaera, Cera, Sikeax, Volterra


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Astarot Posts: 81
Dragon's Throat Sun Physician atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 5.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17.1 :: 2 (Birdsong) HP: 66.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Zafír :: Common Blue Dragon :: Frost Breath Pare
#18
The boy hadn't roamed the Throat in a while so he had plans to do just that. So he started off closest to the main land working his way around and tightening his circles methodically. He worked inward reacquainting himself with his home. He had thought about leaving the Throat, until his Father had joined the herd that is. Blue and scarlet eyes roved over the dunes, rocks, and bushes as he trotted around. His lunges and muscles were growing. Everyday he was looking more like his father and less like his mother. Thick bodied with lengthening feathers on his legs. He smiled at the thought of being like his father. He wanted to be more like his father, looks wise at least.

Well before he had even made it half way around his home he noticed an odd looking cat running in his direction. He stopped ears titled forward curiously. As it got to him it made a super odd sound, like a snake might. Unknowingly he lowered his muzzle and sniffed the thing. With lightning fast movements the thing struck at his muzzle. Dark anger flared in his chest and he reared stomping at the cat, but not hitting it. The spotted thing raced away back how it had come. Still angry his nose bleeding a bit from the scratches he gave chase.

His ears were pinned teeth bared with his anger. If it had attacked him it might go for a younger weaker foal and who knew how much damage it could do. He felt compelled to chase the beast out of HIS home. To his surprise to lead him right to a meeting. His anger forgot the colt looked instinctively for his brother. Finding him easily he slipped is way through the crowd to join him. He watched the gathering silently and perked up when his father was mentioned. His dual eyes flashed to him as he was promoted. He beamed and dipped his head proudly at his might sire. Pride warmed his heart as he watched the black and white stud. His encounter with the cat had proven to him that he wanted to be a warrior, just like Volterra.
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Talk
Words;; 365
OOC/Tags;; @Tyrath @Volterra
Astarot
You can DIE laughing, or laugh until you die... Wanna play?

image | coding

Sohalia the Transcended Posts: 477
Outcast atk: 4 | def: 9.5 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14.3 hh :: 10 (ages in Orangemoon) HP: 67 | Buff: NOVICE
Astraeus :: Common Zephyr :: Wakiya ChaoticMelodies
#19
[Image: BLX1P.jpg]

SOHALIA

The meeting devolved quickly into anger and shouting.

The dove had not expected that everyone would have the same ideas moving forward, but nor had she expected such unbridled animosity towards their newly crowned Sultana.  Of course, she hadn't thought that Sikeax would immediately brand an outcast band a threat to be detained.  Though she understood the prior Physician's reasoning - Sohalia, too, would rather err on the side of caution when it came to potential threats - she could not condone the imprisonment of individuals who had done nothing wrong.  She did not want to wait for them to attack - and oh, what a wonderful time this would be for them to do just that! - but she, like so many others in the assembled group, needed proof that they would cause a problem before acting so strongly against them.

The mare remained silent as many of her herdmates spoke against the Sultana's decree.  Hers was a voice that did not need to be added to the fray, not when there were so many arrayed against Sikeax already.  Still, she did not speak in favor of the mare's plan, either.

A memory surfaced:  two unicorns lingered at the edge of the water, standing on the mainland as though waiting for something.  Lena and Rexanna had invited them - indeed, all of the herds, all of Helovia - to a festival in the north.  Perhaps this could help them in this matter with which they were suddenly faced.  "I've a thought, if I may?" the Transcended interjected, smiling slightly in an attempt to diffuse the tension that lingered in the herd before continuing.  "Not a week past, Rexanna and Lena, two unicorns from the Aurora Basin, visited our shores to offer an invitation to a festival to be held in their herdland.  They gave me the details to spread amongst our herd.  All of the herds - indeed, all of Helovia - have been invited.  Perhaps we could use this as a diplomatic opportunity to gather more information about this outcast group?  If the other herds have had experience dealing with them, or perhaps if we can get information from the group itself... perhaps we can find out what they want, and we don't have to jump into anything without knowing more."

"talk talk talk"

Brighter than the northern lights
Want to live to feel the daylight

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Use of force and/or magic (with the exception of death) is allowed at all times.

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Xolani Posts: 39
Outcast
Mare :: Equine :: 15.0 hh :: 6 years (ages in Orangemoon)
ChaoticMelodies
#20


Xolani was not among the first to arrive; nor was she among the last. She stood in the back of the small group with an uncertain tension in the lines of her face. The mare had never been to a herd meeting before, and the summons brought a strange feeling reminiscent of when she had been called before her parents at home. Why would they be summoned unless they were in some kind of trouble? Would there be a punishment given out? Would they make whoever had caused the problem leave? Was it me? she wondered, shifting back and forth uneasily. But no - she had done nothing but her job, and she had a small family here now. Surely, surely she was safe.

But then she realized that it was not Gaucho, a stallion who she had not known but had nonetheless become accustomed to seeing around their home, that led the meeting. No, it was a mare that Xolani could vaguely identify as the herd's healer, and she alone. Tension again overcame her. Something had gone terribly wrong in the last weeks, something that she did not want to face. She had only just become comfortable here. It was too soon to lose the one place and the only horses that she cared about!

Almost without thinking, Xolani slipped to Ilios's side, easing her way through the crowd until she could gently nudge his wing. A monstrous brute stood on the other side of the teal-touched pegasus, and the mare found herself shrinking slightly in his presence. Accompanying Ilios was a silver wolf, a beautiful creature who Xolani did not recognize. When did he get a companion? Indeed, when had they last spent time together at all? Still, his presence was a comfort to the mare, whose coat was lit with a mixture of colors that bespoke her anxiety and fear. There were no discernible shapes, only a splatter of hues.

The news of Gaucho's death came as a shock. Though Xolani had expected something bad to come of this meeting, she had always imagined the Wildfire to be infallible. Everything became a blur after that - news of an outcast group (she glanced at Ilios, knowing his history, worry creasing her forehead), plans to take them into custody - it was too much for her panicking mind to take in, especially when the voices surrounding her exploded in angry protest. She was proud of her children's father when his calm voice offered a better solution, but even that could not completely ease her mind.

What would happen now? Who were they without their leader?




Art by Neverrmind @ DA


OOC | Mentions @Ilios
Please tag Xolani in all replies.
Use of force and/or magic (with the exception of death) is allowed at all times.

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