the Rift


winner winner chicken dinner

Aithniel the Inquisitor Posts: 169
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 4.0
Mare :: Tribrid :: 15.0hh :: 4 Years HP: 75 | Buff: NOVICE
Zerachiel :: Royal Griffin :: Molten Dagger tamme
#1
Your spine is ablaze
Felling any foe with my gaze

Aithniel emerged unscathed and amused at Sikeax default to her battle. Honestly, she was disappointed that she didn't get to shed the blood she intended. A good battle was marked by her own blood too - just more of her opponent's. With head held high but lacking arrogance, she walked into the center of the Throat and drank the cold, crisp water. Zera leapt onto her back with feline grace and settled down, tucking his golden wings into his sides.

"DRAGON'S THROAT!" she bellowed loudly, her lungs expanding her ribs as far as they could go. Aithniel waited patiently for the herd she summoned to arrive, and in the mean time, she tallied up the ranks in her head - at least the ones she knew. As far as she knew, they desperately needed healers and all of the warriors needed to get organized.

Both her and Zera's lion tails swung with metronome pace as she settled her hooves into the sand. "Hello all. I am your new Sultana, Aithniel the Inquisitor. My father is the God of the Sun, so I have, possible, more stake in the success of this herd than you do. I will work twice as hard to make this great land a success." She started her speech with a promise - one she had every intention of keeping. The girl took a deep breath and looked around, expression softening.

"I understand that I will never compare to Gaucho, but I will try. In order to honor his legacy, we must tighten the ranks. Ophelia, are you willing to remain a sleuth? Does anyone else want this position? Anyone know where Misael is?" she asked, looking around at the faces. "At this point, we can train on-the-fly, so please don't hesitate," she said loudly.

"Tae, welcome to the position of warrior, my friend. Thank you for your assistance and please know that if you need me, I will be there."

Aithniel then scowled, showing her true feelings. "We also have a desperate need for healers. First come first served. Please, step up. We need all the help we can get. Also, please tell me your ideas."

The mare then took a deep breath. "I'll also be on the lookout for my equal and second lead, so please perform your duties well. I will be choosing the most outgoing, active and persistent member of any rank!"

She stood for a moment and listened before uttering her final command. "We must patrol our borders to keep them safe, please. I expect everyone to travel in pairs. With Kisamoa's arrival, I will be venturing beyond our borders often, so we need to coordinate our safety."

------------
Positions open:
3 healers
1-2 sleuths
1 co-lead
@Tae has been promoted to warrior


Credits: Image by Tabini with many thanks from Blu

But burn down our home
I won't leave alive


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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
#2
-- N A J Y A --

Najya had watched the battle from the sidelines with some degree of trepidation. However, trepidation soon dissolved into disappointment.  It appeared that there was no real battle to be observed, and the Sultana who had recently professed herself to be their new leader of the warrior ranks fled from the battlefield.  She was pleased, however, to see that no one was injured in the outcome, for that had been her greatest worry when A’mal had alerted her to the battle. 

The little dragon circled lazily before spiraling down towards her bonded, landing softly on the little mare’s haunches before scrambling up to her preferred perch on the mare’s withers. She watched Aithniel’s griffin with some degree of interest, having never seen one before, tilting her head and letting out a chirp of interest before drawing silent in the serious nature of the gathering. 

Najya’s curled ears pricked as Aithniel called the herd to order and swiftly laid out her plans for the herd’s future.  The flaxen mare was pleased to hear that she had a clear vision for the future, and was encouraged by the offer to fill the vacant ranks that had contributed to the stagnation following Gaucho’s passing.  

The little mare dipped her head to the new Sultana, in respect, before speaking. She offered the winged mare a small smile, "Congratulations, Sultana," she offered, before moving on to the business at hand. “I wish to be a healer, Aithniel. I expressed my interest to Sikeax at our last meeting, and have been trying to teach myself about the use of Helovia’s herbs in the meantime. The herd is in desperate need. I’m not sure if any medical stockpile exists anywhere in the Throat, but if it does, it could do with refreshing," she finished, shifting her gaze from the new Sultana to others who may have come. Najya had hoped to have received some training in the meantime, but was more than willing to do the work on her own. It seemed like that’s what they all needed now.  No one was going to tell them how to make these sands great - that they had to do themselves. 

It was their burden now.               

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Mercutio Posts: 12
Absent Abyss atk: 3.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.3 :: 7 HP: 64.0 | Buff: NOVICE
Laine
#3

M E R C U T I O

For the most part, Mercutio was ignorant of the upheaval the Dragon's Throat had been through in the recent months. What little he had gleaned from Cera, however was enough for concern (more concern than the grullo stallion was entirely comfortable feeling) and even if he himself would deny it he was not one to let others go without assistance where he could provide it. Seeing Cera bloody and battered had been hard to stomach, such a stark contrast to the shining Golden Prince that Mercutio had met in the threshold. Cera had explained the Throat's lack of healers and against the vagabond;s "better" judgement, he had pulled another promise from him, to remain here, at least for the winter.

Mercutio was no expert in healing, had no formal training, but he'd been a wild and often reckless traveler for years now: if he hadn't learned how to patch himself up, his body would have been dust to the ages by now. His expansive travels had given him a knowledge of plants that would harm and heal, though he knew few of them by name. It would have been better, he thought, to waste his knowledge, to leave now. This herd would be better off without the likes of him. Bright Cera would be better off without the likes of him-but the Golden Prince had asked and Mercutio had been helpless to refuse.

He approached that gathering with and easy stride, if there was tension among their ranks it did not touch the newcomer.  "Sultana," the greeting and a small nod were his only concession to formality. "Mercutio is my name, a friend of Cera. He has told me of your lack in healers and I would offer my services. I can make no lifelong commitment, but I've some skills in the healing arts and would lend them t'you a while if I may bide in your lands a time." His bearded face was unsmiling but open and honest as he addressed the grey queen. Amber eyes shifted to the spotty healer that had already spoken and her did smile at her pretty face. "I would be happy to assist in the gathering, miss. Always good to have what's needed on hand."

Yea, 'spite of show and shallow wit, and sentimental drool,
I know myself a hypocrite, a coward, and a fool.

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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
#4
Sohalia
For the second time in as many days, the Transcended was roused from her daily routine by a bellowing call to gather the herd.  Always the obedient one, she made her way quickly to the gathering and managed to be among the first to arrive.  She smiled at Najya and at the stranger (who she would later come to know as Mercutio) as she came to a halt near the two of them and towards the front of the meeting.  Astraeus sat elegantly upon her rump, his golden eyes looking about with interest as the herd gathered.  Sohalia herself was still in the process of healing from her fight with Cera:  her ear, though mostly cleaned of blood, was still tattered and sore, and she walked with the stiffness of bruises muddling her gait.  Still, she was in relatively high spirits.  Even if Sikeax’s movement to name her Sultana had been overthrown when the former healer had been dethroned, she was still as loyal as ever to her herd and family, and eager to see where their new leader would take them.

A respectful nod was given to the demigoddess and a murmured congratulations went out prior to the beginning of the woman’s speech.  Sohalia knew little of the mare aside from vague whispers of her lineage and her steadfast presence upon the sands, but as far as she could tell, Aithniel had earned the right to lead.  They had always prospered so long as they had at least one strong warrior to lead them, and the demigoddess had proven herself to be capable on the battlefield.

As the meeting began and Aithniel called out new plans and new ranks, Sohalia was struck by the straightforward way she spoke.  There was no fluff, no extra wording – she simply handed out tasks and ranks as though she had more important things to be doing, and the faster they could get this done, the better.  That was not to say, however, that Aithniel didn’t care; no, Sohalia got the impression that the mare cared very much.  Her only doubts lay in how diplomatic the warrior could be when such a thing would be necessary.

After the rest of the buzz died down – after all, Sohalia already had a rank, and she would be useless in either a fighting or a healing role – the Transcended stepped forward.  ”I have some ideas to present to you, Sultana.  Might I have a word, after the meeting is adjourned?” she requested, smiling kindly at the younger mare.  At worst, she would be brushed aside and dismissed, but she rather hoped that Aithniel would consider what she had to say, particularly given the dove’s prior experience upon these sands.

"Talk talk talk."

Sohalia
I built this city just to bring it to its knees
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Nephele Posts: 82
Dragon's Throat Guardian atk: 4.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 7.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16.3 :: 7 HP: 64.0 | Buff: NOVICE
Atreus :: Lammergeier :: None Nova
#5
can you hear the sabers rattling

Was she entirely surprised to see Aithniel make the summon, no, she wasn't if she was honest with herself. She had watched the challenge, or rather, been at one of the sites when it had gone down. It wasn't too hard to judge by those who had sent their companions to watch in their stead, by their faces, who had won — the summons merely confirmed it.

She approached in her usual manner, head held high and her face filled with curiosity and inquistiveness. The events of the days prior had caused one hell of a commotion that would have to be smoothed over and worked upon in the days which followed — something the Guardian would watch with a keen eye. Atreus settled on her rump as she stilled a respectable distance away from the demi-god. "Hail, Sultana." She offered in a polite greeting as the vulture on her back trilled his own greeting to her and the companion who rested on her back as well.

Aithniel didn't bother to sugar her words, she simply got on with it. While she didn't exactly like the first come, first serve attitude some of the ranks were receiving,were they really in a position where they could be picky? She supposed filling them up and then letting them be weeded out by time and their own selves would ensure those who remained were fit to the task. It was all they could do really, watch and see what happened now and who got what.

"If there is anything else you need, or require attention paid to, please don't hesitate to call upon me, Sultana." She added after Aithniel had finished her speech, she was eager, fit and healthy once more. She had proven at least, that she had the gritand the balls — to step up and stand out, that she had determination and the heart of her people firmly planted within herself. Be damned that she would wither and let her fire be snuffed out now.



Talk Talk Talk





damned if i didn't
demand that they sing
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“She was beautiful, but she was beautiful in the way a forest fire was beautiful: something to be admired from a distance, not up close.” 

― Terry Pratchett
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Force & violence permitted with the exception of maiming & death

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
#6

The road to success was a long one, but the Diviner dared to finally think of it as somewhat close now. The personal emotions she felt with the new Sultana she was not sure of, but she did not look at it negatively either. Having watched her defaulted fight with Sikeax, she had found that Aithniel was like fire itself; an eager dancer, fueled by the wish for justice with dedication burning hot — and perhaps even a bit angry. She couldn't help think that, perhaps, their Lord had sent her to lead them. Maybe this has been Aithniel's purpose in the herd all along. So she could not object… Still, should those who are godly really interfere with something that is so mortal? Because besides being a worshiper, she was still a scholar, too. The inquisitor could either be the last piece of the puzzle, the doer of things, make their herd a blessed herd, unlike she had seen before or could have dreamed of; one polished with divinity… Or she could not be meant for it at allGod. There was no reason for her to object, yet, knowing she could not even object if she wanted, left Maren with a bitter taste in her mouth —which could surely be counted as blasphemy. And oh, she knew that all too well from within the thin frames of her mortality.

“As the Diviner of this herd I approve of your promotion.” She dipped her head, elegantly as her ivory mane fell with a soft swishing sound around her neck. Hopefully this time the meeting stays this dull. “I offer you my wisdom and guidance, I shall be here when you are in need of my council.” She said it with her official voice, but for the first time as a diviner, she felt like the concept of her purpose had been given yet another kind of question mark, another reason for being looked upon vaguely by the public eye. Why would a herd, led by a demi-goddess, need a seer; a messenger of the Gods, when the Inquisitor was godly herself?

Maren did not say, of course. She knew what she was here for. She would let them (ignorant fools) think what they wanted, and if that was that she was merely looking pretty in order to keep up appearances, she would let them go ahead and think that, too. She knew better. “May you lead us well.” She wished with a smile for the God’s daughter. “And I shall pray for those injured to be healed quickly” She gave a nod of approval to the new potential healers. She also wanted to wink at the Transcended, simply because she looked a bit roughed up, but then scraped her throat instead as she reminded herself that they weren't really on that chapter yet. God, I need more friends.





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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
#7

Tae was, fairly understandably, late to the meeting.

Despite the blood matting her coat, her muscles which had been pushed to the point of exhaustion, the mandible-marked mare somehow managed to make her way to where Aithniel had already gathered a small crowd. Though Tae's challenge had happened first, and presumably should have finished first, given how unmarred Aithniel's coat appeared, and given that Sikeax was not around, it seemed that only one of their two targets had bothered to put up a fight.

Clearly their mutiny was not for nothing after all. If Sikeax couldn't even be bothered to fight for her right to remain, it was good that she had been forcibly removed. And why shouldn't it have ben Aithniel to do the deed? Who better to challenge the Sun God's demands than his own child? No, despite the ache in her bones, Tae's pale eyes were wide with mirth and pride.

They had done it.

And her own challenge against Volterra? It hardly mattered what the outcome had been. She'd only needed to distract him long enough so that Aithniel could challenge Sikeax unopposed.

With bits of dried blood matted on Tae's lips which were turned upwards in a wolfish snarl, the ghostly girl made her way towards the meeting. Had she known Aithniel was actually her half-sister, she might have felt a great deal more pride for all that they had accomplished. Instead, she merely regarded her as a fellow sister of the sands. And that was good enough.

"Too bad she didn't fight." Tae said, halting near those who had gathered. Mal and Hel sat grinning on either side of her, their dark canine faces focused only on their bonded and herd leader. "But still a victory nonetheless. Congratulations."

Although Tae had ambitions to one day rule this herd as her Father had, something inside of her told her that she was not ready yet. At least, not to lead alongside Aithniel. (Though again, had she known the girl was her sister, she might have had second thoughts). Instead, she voiced the desires she had had during their previous meeting, certain now that she would not receive the same offhanded remark that Sikeax had offered her. 

"Despite recent events, I would rather hold the rank of healer, than warrior." She began, her pale gaze staring levelly at Aithniel. "Besides, I don't need to be labeled a warrior to fight." Her ghostly gaze surveyed the crowd, looking for Volterra hoping to give him a wolfish wink. "My Father found power in healing nearer the end of his life. I would follow in those hoofsteps, if you see fit."


tl;dr despite challenging Volterra for gladiator, Tae would like to be a healer. 

tae
Throw me to the wolves
& I'll come back leading the pack
Image by Lunarblues !

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
#8


At the Inquisitor's summons, the Indomitable comes.

His moral dilemma has not been helped by the events on the battlefield. On the one hand, he is loyal to Sikeax, and her dethroning has thrown into doubt everything about his place in the herd. He joined because of her; now she's gone, what reason does he have to stay? He should take his children and leave with her, start afresh in a herd that isn't blinded by prejudice and thinly-veiled racism.

And yet....Volterra places more stead than most upon one's ability on the battlefield. To flee from a challenge without good reason is a deplorable crime to him, and seeing Sikeax abandon her post like that has carved doubt into the very depths of his heart. He's always known her skills did not lie in fighting, but he'd hoped that her desire to keep her herd would override any fears or misgivings about the challenge. Fighting is instinctual, innate; in a way, it is simple. Probably why Volterra, simple man that he is, is so good at it. So for Sikeax to not even try is quite damning, especially whilst Volterra sweated blood and pain to fight in her name.

Then, there is the Aithniel factor. The woman has intrigued him since the moment they met, and he certainly feels an intimate connection with her given the fact that they created a life together. She is the daughter of a God, the patron God of this herd - there is a certain poetry in her ascension to the throne. And yet the stallion cannot help but feel guilt that wraps around his guts like a snake as he thinks of Sikeax. If he stays in the herd in her absence, is he betraying her? Should he take his leave now, return to the life of an outcast, or perhaps even join the Falls - the herd he'd hoped to take as his own?

It is a conundrum, but one for another day. The beast has a meeting to attend, and he arrives as promptly as he can given the other business he had to deal with first - that business being a certain Tae. His wounds ache and smart and each muscle thrums with spent energy, a sure sign of a long and enjoyable battle.

When he arrives at the meeting, the skull-marked filly is the first one he sees. After his initial anger had faded, he realised he truly didn't hold the fight against her. Her tactics had clearly been distraction-based, and they'd worked. Volterra sure as hell wouldn't have backed down against Aithniel - he'd have won, or damn near killed himself trying, emotions be damned. Alas, what's done is done. He cannot insert steel into Sikeax's veins any more than he can insert the will to heal into his own. He simply isn't built that way; perhaps it was wrong of him to think that she can just change her talents at the drop of a hat.

He's dragonless as he moves into the crowd - they're eating their fill of the Throat's wildlife after their exertions during the battle. His crimson gaze lingers on Tae as she announces her desire to join the ranks of the healers, and one scarred eyebrow lifts quizzically. It seems like a dreadful waste of natural talent for the battlefield, and he wonders at her decision. He pulls up close to her, not missing the wolfish wink she sends in his direction and returning it with a somewhat amused twitch of his lips. "You fight well," he growls approvingly at the filly, his words aimed for her and her alone. "I am sure the warrior ranks will be glad to have you back should you ever change your mind." He cannot say this with certainty, of course, because he may not be the leader of said warrior ranks should Tae ever alter her decision.

Then he looks up at Aithniel, and his white-painted face remains veiled. He does not pledge his loyalty, does not offer up empty promises of grandeur to the hybrid queen; he does not dip to his knees and drop his sword at her feet in fealty. Truthfully, he doesn't know whether he will still be here tomorrow or whether the call of freedom will have dragged him from the chains of herd life, but a lot will depend on how the Inquisitor addresses her herd. She cannot be much older than him - how will she handle the weight of leadership on her shoulders? The way she conducts this meeting will go a long way to determining Volterra's decision...and whether he will betray his friend to serve a herd who hate him.

V O L T E R R A
I'M LIVING LIKE A LANDMINE WAITING TO EXPLODE
I'M TICKING LIKE A TIME BOMB READY TO GO

drawing: 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 ]




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
#9

Condemned to Predetermined
 

On one hand, he knows he's supposed to feel proud, that his mother is now a Queen and thus by an extension of that greatness she had seized for herself, it made him a Prince. He should of congratulated her with gusto, should have his ears strained forward to hear her every word. Instead, all he felt was a twisted maelstrom of emotions which confused and annoyed him, writhed through his veins in both hot and cold waves. It was why he hadn't raced to the scene of the challenges which had echoed across the throat, he had hunkered down in his cavern and forced his eyes shut — forced himself to block out what had raged around him, however long and short it had stretched on.

His family had fought that night, and his heart had shattered for it. He liked to pretend that his heart had hardened, and the mask he wore had sunk into his face and had become a part of him. In reality, he was still a bit too fragile than he'd have liked. He still got torn to pieces, he still found that his heart skipped a beat whenever something or someone threatened that which he was attached to.

Sikeax had taken him under her care, rather than let him be passed around the multitude of members of the Throat for rearing. She had taught him that aloe helped his burned nose, and she had taught him the certain plants he could use on his scraped knees and which ones he couldn't. She had been his ma, and now his mother and ma had fought, and Sikeax had lost.

Then his father had been challenged as well, Tyrath wasn't stupid, and neither was he naive. He displayed a wisdom and cunning far beyond the age of his body, he questioned everything and explored and turned everything he could get his hands on, where ever he went. It had been a set up, there had been no way unless a divine stroke of luck the mandible marked filly would of won against the mountain that was his father.

He glided in on light steps, hooves pushed off the ground for a beat, the stroke of his wings carried him for another, and then he landed. Rinse and repeat, rinse and repeat. It stopped when he finally reached the gathered horses and he found himself stood next to his father. "Apa." Would his father be able to tell how conflicted he was? The way his fanged maw pulled downward and the lines which scraped across his face? Part of him hoped so, and a part of him didn't — what if Volterra saw it as weakness in his son, that he was bothered so much by this. "You look a bit shit." It's a shit attempt at a joke, but it helped alleviate his own upset.

Did he feel conflicted too? He wondered, was this a price of having a wandering mind and a fleeting heart? Sikeax was also the mother of one of Volterra's children, just as Aithniel was. Had it bothered him that the mother's of his children had tangled, albeit briefly and he might've been forced to choose between which one if Tae hadn't come along and challenged him?

Still, his crowned head turned towards the demi-goddess — his mother — and offered her what smile he had to give, a genuine smile that wasn't peppered by his own sadness and hurt. He should be happy, right? He was in a way, she had won, she had set out on a goal and achieved it. "Congratulations, ma." Calling her ma felt foreign, but it seemed too sterile to hold her at arms length and call her mother in front of everyone, and especially on the dawn of her new life as a Sultana. No matter how much it'd tore him up. The tribrid colt felt at least he should try, spread his wings and hope she'd not vanish into the sunset. He'd already lost Sikeax, he didn't need to lose her too.





Damnation for Eternity


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

Mathèo Posts: 65
Dragon's Throat Colt
Stallion :: Tribrid :: 17.2 :: 3 seasons
Delphi :: Common Rougarou :: Flame Odd
#10
mathèo

"Mother!"

Unlike Tyrath, Mathèo had no apprehensions about his Mother, her affection for him, or his place with regards to her. He was perfectly content with her style of communal raising, and, given his early piety towards the Sun God (who also happened to be his grandsire), was happy to place his needs beneath the duties and obligations that his Mother had due to her birth.

The sun drenched boy had watched eagerly as his mother had taken on Sikeax, and if he was being honest, felt no small amount of relief that the former Sultana had seemingly given up her crown willingly. Or, if not willingly, at least she didn't fight for it. His mother was strong, he knew that. He also knew that she would have likely triumphed, but perhaps due to his youthfulness, young Thèo wasn't necessarily in any rush to see his mother unnecessarily maimed, even if it was for the larger good. 

"You did it!" He beamed, cheeks pressed into tight circles as a smile that was almost too large for his face, broke out. The ashen colt's sea-green gaze sparkled with pride and delight as he halted near Aithniel's side, gazing up at her with a respectfulness tempered by joy. ->I knew you could<- He thought towards her, having gotten a better grasp on his mental communications. 

Despite his age, Thèo was very aware of who his mother was within the herd (now more than ever), as well as a rough understanding of the Dragon's Throat political system. As such, he nimbly stepped out of Aithniel's spotlight, allowing her the opportunity to continue running the meeting, as well as the herd. Standing in a magical spotlight of his own, Thèo gazed through the crowd, wondering if Luther or Iskra might arrive. Luther certainly should be here for this, but it would be great if Iskra showed up too. 

->LUTHER? LUTHER COME HERE!<- Thèo  mentally shouted, imagining his twin and projecting the thought mentally towards him. If he was within a few meters, Thèo's call should get through. If he was farther away, then perhaps the ruckus of the assembled crowd would draw him out.

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Sunjata Posts: 69
Dragon's Throat Sleuth atk: 4.5 | def: 10 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 16.1hh :: Four HP: 66 | Buff: NOVICE
Andikan :: Nile Crocodile :: Scream Skylark
#11

S  U  N  J  A  T  A

Everything had been changing so quickly, it seemed. From a place that seemed about as lifeless as the cacti that littered the herd land, life began to sprout in forms of challenges, name calling, and leader shifts. Much to Sunjata’s distaste, he tried to keep civil – avoiding the frustration that laced every corner. Sometimes he found outlets in his anger by finding various spiders along the sands and simply crushing them with his large hoof. However, while that did a decent job at curbing the frustration, he felt quite like a sitting duck. He needed something to do – he couldn’t just sit around and wait for things to happen anymore. He needed a rank, a duty, a job to be able to accomplish. And he found himself leaning toward Volterra’s offer more and more each day.

Despite having said something previously when a pegasus had called them together to speak of the lack in leadership – it seemed to have gone unnoticed. Yet another little dig at the blue bird as he fumbled his way through a still strange land. But he managed to hear the call of the woman that had challenged the current leader, and he fumbled his way through the sands to attend. He surveyed those gathered before spotting the only friend he considered here (quite ironic for the fact that Sunjata hated anything without wings) and moved to stand beside the ebony giant. His ashen beak marked face turned to Volterra with a grim smile and a nod of hello before turning his attention to Aithiniel, the new lead as it appeared to be.

He nodded his head to her, unwilling to bow down completely before someone he didn’t even know. “Veels geluk.” He called to her in his native tongue – the words sounding foreign compared to everything else he heard. Yet, it still didn’t seem right to say congratulations in the common tongue. It felt to him as though it lost it’s worth through translation, and so he continued with his natural tongue. Yet, even so, his oceanic gaze landed on the pale pegasus, wondering if she would be willing to hear his aspirations within the Throat, or if his words would fall again upon deaf ears. His attention perked when she spoke of patrols, and knew immediately that he would be more than willing to toss himself out in the wilds of Helovia, willing to prove himself to this strange beginning.

"Talk."


Veels geluk - Congratulations.



We slipped into midnight
like the death of the sun.
img credits

Pixel by bronzehalo.deviantart.com
Force/Magic permitted so long as it doesn't permanently harm him.
Please tag in every post!

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
#12
The Sunspear was here, was trying. More reclusive that she'd even been before, Meg took her time in acclimatizing herself to life in the Throat without the responsibilities of being Sultana. She had started to reach out to some her closest friends, and the ground there was still rocky and uneven, but the was hope yet, As for the rest of the herd she was still rather unsure how to go about interacting with them. She'd expected hostility, knew she might have deserved it, but it was a mark of how little impact she'd made as Sultana that no one had seemed to challenge her presence here yet. Each day that dawned was the only one she could focus on but she was managing to wake, to rise, to carry on.

Aithniel called them to gather... Aithniel Another change, another adjustment. Megaera hung back when she joined the group, for the first time keeping to the fringes of a meeting and listened as the Sun's Daughter announced herself to have deposed Sikeax and ran down the list of the Throat's more desperate needs. 

"Aithniel, may the Sun give you Strength and Wisdom." Meg considered the girl carefully. She definitely had more confidence in Aithniel than Sikeax, despite not knowing her that well. But like the new Sultana had said, the Sun's Daughter had plenty of motivation to see her Father's land prosper. There was a forcefulness in the way she spoke, a conviction, and that reminded Meg of Gaucho; she tried to ignore the sharp pang in her chest at that thought. If this was the will of the Sun, Meg would honor it and do what she could to help Aithniel succeed. "I will aid you in anyway I can."

[Meg can help fill something if needed but she is kinda going to go be Maren's disciple soooooo]
Megaera the Sunspear
image credits
FAC FORTIA ET PATERE
be brave and endure
:: permission given for use of magic and force :: please tag Megaera in all posts ::

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
#13
AMPERE
the Mother of Companions


The differences between the two meetings called by their most recent sultanas is astounding; and it's not in the way the mares speak, because Sikeax had been just as direct and commanding (take prisoners the Outcast group). No, Ampere thinks as she walks alongside her daughter to joint he meeting. The difference is in the way the herd responded. Do they so willingly accept this alteration born of altercation because of the swell of unrest Sikeax and her inactivity caused? Or is it because Aithniel delivers unto the herd purpose the way Sikeax did not?

Take prisoner the Outcast group is very different from Who wants to be a healer, a warrior, a sneak?.
Is it the question, or just the singular affect of being delivered a rank? Is it Aithniel, or is it the herd that has changed?

"Why matter?" came the quip of a small voice in her mind. Kygo descended from a nearby tree to Ampere's withers, having been here before her while he watched the challenge that unfurled this very meeting. He was emboldened by his assistance to Ampere, and so with uncharacteristic affection between the two of them, he touched her, and she did not chase him away.

"It doesn't," Ampere supposed, "it's just interesting, don't you think?"
"No," Kygo replied simply, though a mint green expression of surprise colored their bond; Ampere seemed to be drifting more towards normal, caught up in a love for something other than Gaucho as the sands around her bled and cried out for change. He began to preen as their mental conversation dropped and Ampere instead turned her focus upon the new Sultana and the gathered.

She glanced over at Tae with poorly veiled surprise when her daughter denied the rank class she'd been chasing and instead opted for healer. A spark of rage gnawed inside Ampere, that the young, small, inexperienced girl had risked her life to challenge the Gladiator, against the very plans they had discussed, only to throw it all away. Was that why she finished fighting? Ampere had thought once she knew Aithniel had won she had stopped the charade since it's intent was only to distract, but she had been surprised then too because she knew a thing or two about pride; maybe she didn't know so many things about her own daughter though.
She wasn't mad about her choice though. Healing was a noble art, and as a mother she certainly preferred the idea that her child was stitching up others instead of getting stitches, though she would have supported her either way. Ampere wasn't so overbearing (so she liked to think) as to deny her daughter the very thing she did- what upset her was the sneaky challenge against odds her untrained daughter couldn't match. It hit too close to home Kygo supposed, because Ampere seemed blind to the fact she frequently did the same. He wondered if her mother would be pissed at her.

"I'll continue in my Guardian rank," Ampere murmured as she turned away from her daughter and looked to Aithniel. "Though I'm happy to help wherever needed. I served as Gladiator and Chancellor for many seasons prior." She doesn't mention her failed stint as Sultana, and to that nods appreciatively at Aithniel's successful rise.
Credits: Image by eagle-cry-designs @ DA

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
#14




The commotion rouses the boy from his swim among the Oasis. He's too late to see the fights, which were over quickly, both unfinished, but he's fine with that. Fighting is something he'd rather not witness if he doesn't have to. Though he appreciates it's worth in the world, he can't really bring himself to just accept that delivering pain unto others is allowed, not when there's enough other shit in the world hurting everyone.

He trots along the sands instead to the meeting, his hair still drying in the Frostfall sun, but the desert warmed enough that he doesn't chill. Sparks of electric and fiery origin drift and roll off his wings as he moves, falling to the sides like chaotic rain, but winking out of existence before settling upon the sand.

He's surprised to see a new figure heading the herd. The politics of the place still escaped him in many ways, but he knew enough to recognize she was purposefully positioning herself as their lead, the way the prior one had a season ago, the one mom yelled at. Tyrath, whom he remembered from the latest Kisamoa meeting, and Matheo were both congratulating her, their mom, the leader. Iskra tilted his head, wondering what that made them now. Were they ranked higher among the foals? Did bloodlines even count in a world where crowns were knocked off and placed down as quickly as the seasons turned? All Iskra knew was that Matty was still his friend, and so with a smile he sidled up to the sun kissed boy as he receded back into the crowd.

"Hey," Iskra greeted softly, his head inclined towards the other colt, not wanting to distract from the purpose of this group (which was certainly not his and Theo's conversation). "That's your mom? Awesome!" Admittedly, Iskra thought being in charge wasn't so great, if his knowledge of their prior Sultana and everyone's feelings towards her was anything to go off of, so he was actually rather worried for his friend's mom.



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

Aithniel the Inquisitor Posts: 169
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 4.0
Mare :: Tribrid :: 15.0hh :: 4 Years HP: 75 | Buff: NOVICE
Zerachiel :: Royal Griffin :: Molten Dagger tamme
#15
Your spine is ablaze
Felling any foe with my gaze

Aithniel was disappointed with the small turnout, but she understood that not all would approve of the violent way in which she ascended. She would have to work hard to change their minds and prove her worth, and that task was one she would bear with pride. Her silver gaze danced from face to face and smiled at Tae in surprise when she requested another rank. The Inquisitor would not have guessed the primal mare would want to be a healer, but that only made her more excited to give this position to her.

Surprises were always good - especially to enemies.

"Najya, Mercutio and Tae, it is an honor to meet you, and I want to bestow upon you three the title of healer. My knowledge on such matters is thin, so I look forward to seeing you stockpile supplies. If you need anything, let me know. I will support you however I can," she said earnestly, offering a small smile. Aithniel was not one to wear her emotions on her sleeves, but the effort those who showed up here made was.... it felt good.

Aithniel turned then to Sohalia. "Yes, I would look forward to speaking with you after the meeting. We need to discuss the stability of this island as well as ideas to bring greater comfort to our citizens. After living in the Aurora Basin, I am aware we are lacking in shelter," she said, her words not accusing but thoughtful. She would have to make sure she provided properly for the members of the Dragon's Throat and meet their needs. Only then would they be able to pledge loyalty.

Maren and Nephele offered their support, and she nodded to them gladly before beaming at her children: Tyrath and Matheo. Aithniel moved forward to attempt to embrace them both. "I do this for you, children - so that you may know what leadership means and have this world in which to be yourselves," she murmured for their ears to hear. Matheo even spoke in her head, and she winked at him with a silver eye.

Volterra stood luck a bump on a log, and she wanted to roll her eyes. Wouldn't he, a warrior, be the most supportive given the method in which she took over? Didn't he take what he wanted by force? Hone and perfect his body for battle? That made her think that he had some secret loyalty or affections for Sikeax, and she narrowed her eyes slightly. Ophelia would have to weigh in on this matter, she mused.

"I appreciate all your help, and together, we will make the Dragon's Throat a force to be reckoned with. We need to start by patrolling our borders and keeping up to date. Information is power."


Credits: Image by Tabini with many thanks from Blu

But burn down our home
I won't leave alive


Please tag me in everything!

Nizho Posts: 17
Absent Abyss atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 5.0
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 16.2hh :: 2 years HP: 62.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Time
#16
He had been watching. After Gaucho's death, the healer's promotion, his parents missing, his sister missing, and his life seeming so out of control, Nizho had closed himself off. He had not even talked to Tae, the only one in this entire herd who could be called his friend. But he was still watching, still observing the goings on, and he stayed up to date.

He was making a plan of what he needed to do, where he needed to go.

He stayed in the back of the gathered herd, listening quietly to the new Sultana's words. He knew who she was, this Aithniel, but had not known she was the offspring of the Sun God until now. His ears perked with interest at this, his ombre tail flicking gently behind him with his curiosity. His gunmetal eyes finally moved to Tae when the Inquisitor was finished speaking. A healer? He thought to himself, lifting a mental brow. He never expected that from the girl, who he thought would join the ranks of warrior at his side.

Silently, and slowly, the young stallion moved toward his friend. His eyes scanned for her sister as he moved, cautious of her. He did not want the tall, brutish girl to be angry at him for abandoning Tae being so distant from Tae, and he surely did not want to have any altercation in front of the herd--and part of Nizho did not even think that would happen, but some part of him did. He stayed a few horse lengths away, but he moved his eyes to lock on her's for a solid glance before turning his head and speaking to the new Sultana. "I would like to join the soldiers."

Nizho
I lose my balance on these eggshells you tell me to tread
I'd rather be a wild one instead
Image credit to Anerio at deviantart.com

Vinati Posts: 42
Outcast
Filly :: Pegasus :: 16.0 hh :: 6 months (ages in Tallsun)
ChaoticMelodies
#17
Vinati
The little sand princess was too young to do anything besides watch, though she was quite convinced that she would be an excellent contributor to the herd if she was given the chance. She had not yet grown used to these herd meetings, having been alive for very few of them and attending even less – after all, she had more entertaining things to do than listen to the adults argue about whatever it is adults argue about – but her mother had called for her to attend this one. What was so important about this one?

In any case, she came. She stood silently in the back, scuffing at the sand with a hoof, her eyes dim with distant daydreams about crystal and ghosts and fire. The sun glimmered on the fiery rose that adorned her brow, tied carefully into her growing mane; so, too, did it reflect prettily in the blue-green whale that hung about her neck. The girl sighed as the meeting dragged on, listening half-heartedly to Tae’s declaration to become a healer. Several others, unknown to the girl, spoke up as well.

At the end of the meeting, before Aithniel could depart with Sohalia, Vinati skipped forward, having determined that the new Sultana should make use of her skills and deciding that she would say something about it. Upon arriving before the demi-goddess, the girl nodded her head in a respectful bow before launching into her whimsical tones. ”Hello! I’m Vinati. I’d like to help the crafters, please. I can already make things out of crystal – see?” Here she gestured to the whale upon her breast and the rose twined in her hair. ”So can I help?”
"Talk talk talk."
Vinati
Image by Brit

Xolani Posts: 39
Outcast
Mare :: Equine :: 15.0 hh :: 6 years (ages in Orangemoon)
ChaoticMelodies
#18

As if it wasn’t bad enough for the silent mare to have had to gain approval from one (presumably) judgmental pegasus when she had first arrived in the Dragon’s Throat, it seemed that now their leadership was changing entirely. Where she had once been accepted by Ampere, the then-Gladiator, there was now a commanding brute of a stallion who made the mare nervous. It wasn’t his fault, of course, but she hadn’t had the best of experiences with anyone aside from perhaps Maren and, more recently, Cera, so she was notably wary. But she had to admit, she was more comfortable around the wingless, hornless Volterra than she was around, say… Aithniel.

The newly crowned Sultana and the plain equine mare had never met, but already Xolani was in awe of the demi-goddess. She was colored beautifully, with subtle pops of color on an otherwise pleasantly colored pelt. Hers would have been a desirable appearance in Xolani’s homeland, where social status had everything to do with what one looked like. Not only was her coloration of the sort that the silent mare would deem the highest class, but the mare was both horned and winged – something that was remarkably rare where Xolani came from. So when the mare called a herd meeting, the silent equine was understandably nervous.

In any case, she came, and what she heard did little to quell her fears. It wasn’t that Aithniel did or said anything that should have made the silent little equine nervous, but the Inquisitor’s no-nonsense attitude left Xolani feeling particularly useless. She was a mute apostle of the Sun – what use was she going to be in a failing herd without a voice? But this was her home, and she would do anything that she could to make sure that it thrived.

Thoughts.

OOC | Xolani is awkward, blargh. >.>

I won't give up; no, I won't give in till I reach the end and then I'll start again.

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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Vastra Posts: 58
Dragon's Throat Filly
Filly :: Pegasus :: 16.3 wfg :: 1 year
Sarah
#19

The politics of the Throat were still vastly uninteresting to Vastra - what was the point in standing around with a bunch of horses and talking. She knew (no - thought she knew) about horses already. There were other species, other things, she would rather spend her time learning about.

Still, she found the call for the herd intriguing enough to warrant an investigation. The red filly trotted toward the group she spied, gathering around a pale mare with the most incredible creature upon her back. Vastra had never seen one before and her brown eyes widened in amazement as she approached - curiosity encouraging her not to just linger in the back, as she would have normally, but to move up so that she was standing beside her mother. She pressed against her dam’s side in silent greeting - ears flickering with the multitude of voices that were piping up here and there, discussing ranks and whatever else.

The only thing she was able to hear through her daze was that they were expected to travel in pairs. That wasn’t going going to happen - she had made it a habit to travel where she wished without anyone else, only occasionally (often accidentally) meeting up with Castor. Finding someone else to come with her when she left the Throat sounded incredibly tedious.

After that, everything else faded away again as her eyes locked on the not-quite-a-cat not-quite-a-bird creature upon the loud mare’s back.

Quietly, to no one in particular, she asked the only question on her mind that mattered. “What is it?”

Vastra

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
#20

we are one in the same
you take all of the pain away

The ensuing battles had not gone past his notice, but he had simply turned and walked away. Sikeax had not forsaken him, but she had left him just as she had abandoned her post and her duties. He could not watch her fall beneath Aithniel's blows, and he had no feelings regarding Volterra's challenge. He'd shed enough blood, given enough energy in the wake of Gaucho's death. Cera could give no more.

He only came when Aithniel's voice rang out across the sands, gathering her new flock. He trudged to the meeting with quiet dignity, finally able to see once more with how Mercutio had tended to his wounds. Speaking of...the Prince wandered closer to the grullo as he spoke, unable to hide the astounded awe on his cherubic face as Mercutio asked to become a healer. Maybe not permanently but...it was something. He was staying. Cera smiled and gently pressed his forehead to Mercutio's neck, his heart squirming pleasantly in his chest. 

But he could not be silent in this meeting himself. His green eyes turned to Aithniel, the work of the forgers left open and aching with the completion of the temple. So he lifted his voice in the hush of the calming herd meeting, hoping to reach her ears. 

"Whatever you ask of the Forger, Sultana, we shall accomplish. The keys have been outfitted, but any further work can still be prepared for. Furthermore, if any of you are flightless and are in need, let either myself or Maren know. We will make one for you as soon as we can." Then he dipped his head to Aithniel herself, respectful of her new position. "If you need anything of me, I will happily fulfill any role or task." But that was all he could offer her now. Cera did not know her enough to speak of loyalty or admiration. He was faithful to the land, to her father, but Maren had a point. 

Leaders came and went. 

Whether or not Aithniel would stay or not...only time would tell. Cera sidled closer to Mercutio and left the rest of the world to its upheaval. 

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