the Rift

Restoration of Fortune

Hotaru the Valkyrie Posts: 295
Outcast atk: 7 | def: 10.5 | dam: 3
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3hh :: 6 Years 3 Months HP: 67 | Buff: NOVICE
Alice :: Royal Hellhound :: Acid Brit
and Alice

The snow falls crisp and thick as winter takes hold of their northern kingdom, and the world is muted and still as the Valkyrie steps forth into the drifts. Alice has no respect for the beauty of the untouched snow, barreling through it snout-first, the only sign of her passing being the thick violet smoke that rolls across the white horizon. 

The rose picks her way across the earth, deliberate and intent. With the changing of the season her coat darkens to bloodier shades, a testament to her father's blood in her veins. A full-bodied rose amidst the snow, as volatile and striking as blood. The granite set to her beautiful face is unexpected, uncommon. After the meeting with her twin sister, the Valkyrie had hoisted her sword from the snow and struck out into the early morning with a chip on her shoulder and a clench to her slender jaw. What good did stagnancy do? She was merely imitating the hibernating horrors of her herdland, the mighty beasts she'd once been proud to serve and lead. Now they were nothing but fat, lazy bears. Sleeping away the winter, overly confident in the might of their claws that had struck down prey after prey. But even a bear could be hounded and slain, and Hotaru would not be the one to watch their throats bleed red in the middle of the night when the demons came for them and the easy feast they presented. 

Alice's howl breaks the early morning silence, a warped kind of canine call that all should recognize or at least deign to investigate. Hotaru summons the magic within her, and a large ball of shuddering, snapping lightning manifests before her. She stands away from its violent range, and as it explodes a shrieking boom echoes further against the landscape, demanding attention from all who traverse her lands. 

She will not be ignored. 

As they gather she turns to the bundle she has dragged along behind her, pieces of metal and leather that bind a beautiful set of armor. With a violent thrust of her tiara'd head she throws the armor out in front of the crowd, and slams her forehooves to the snow in a burst of showers. 

"THIS IS THE ARMOR OF YOUR DISGRACED GENERAL!" she howls, eyes like lightning as they flash from face to face. "I stripped it from her cowardly hide and I present it to you now as proof that I AM YOUR LADY! That I stand before you with the blessings of my predecessors, that I am worthy of my title, and capable of defending you against seasoned warriors!" Tail lashes like a cat-o-nine whip against her hocks, and the winds of her hurricanes whip momentarily across the flat snowy landscape. She is violent and beautiful and angry. And she loves them enough to drag them from their stupor by the napes of their necks.

"I present this armor to you and I swear upon it that I will not stand for complacency any longer - from this herd, from our allies, and from myself. None of us are free from fault. This was once the mightiest herd in all of Helovia! Now here we cower, behind our mountains and our mumbled reassurances that we need not be strong in the face of peace. I ask you, IS THIS WHAT YOU EXPECT FROM YOUR HERD?" Hotaru kicks the closest piece of metal to explain her point, the resounding clang like a death knoll, and her breath comes fast and hot with passion and vitality. 

"This herd is a family. We fight, we bleed, we rally against one another like squabbling foals because that is what families do. But families do not quit. I am not giving up on you. We are not giving up." Alice snarls in primordial agreement at her side, and her breaths smooth even as she paces idly before them. Whether Deimos comes to interrupt her or not doesn't matter, because this is her stage for now. His input could wait, his scorn or his disagreement could wait. She did not expect him to disagree with her words (maybe her delivery, if only because she was fire and he was ice) but she was more then prepared for the backlash of her herd. For they always found something to complain about at these meetings.

"Which is why things are changing. Immediately." Again she thrust her hoof forth at the armor, which lay innocently glinting blue and black in the snow. "Any who wish to claim this armor and take up the rank of General or Corporal, step forth now. So long as you have the heart and drive to practice, to bleed, to sacrifice for your family, we will overlook initial skill." Her eyes drove into Erebos briefly, wondering if the war-driven child would follow in his sire's steps and come to claim the title she offered. 

"A god has risen from the deep in the southern lands by the name of Kisamoa. If you have any interactions with him, or any new information, come to myself, Deimos, or Aisling immediately. While he appears benevolent for now, we all know Helovia does not remain such for long." And speaking of her favorite braided thief...

"Aisling, I ask you to accompany me to the World's Edge to solidify our alliance with the rulers there. Tiamat, I ask you to do the same in regards to the Dragon's Throat." Truly with the firmness of her voice it wasn't a request, but she would not throw around her authority like a tyrant, for she was not. Even in her anger, she loved them. That was why she could not bear to see them falter and crumble to nothing. 

"Eldala, with the materials you recovered from the Dragon's Throat, we will begin our crafting of fibrous leather for more armor, to encourage our soldiers to step up and reclaim their ranks." The Valkyrie did not doubt that all able-bodied individuals would step forward onto the battlefield and give their bodies to the defense of their herd, regardless of status, but she could not help but notice the empty, looming ranks. 

"All others who remain unranked, come forth now if there is a rank you desire. Contest among yourselves, if you believe someone unfit for their title. The snow may blanket us in the clutches of Frostfall, but we will burn slow and steady, and when spring comes again, may the Aurora Basin become a fire once more." With a sharp nod she cut her words there, standing in prim solitude at the forefront of the masses. Welcoming their words, their complaints, their reactions. As strong as iron. Choosing who would live and die, just as her title suggested. 

Image by

This is a MANDATORY MEETING. You can post the bare minimum if your character has nothing to say to keep things moving, but we want as many members here as possible!

Important changes:

The positions of Corporal and General are open! 
Soldiers are encouraged to apply - even outcasts who want to jump in on the meeting!
Aisling and Tiamat are requested to travel with Hotaru to the Edge and Throat!
Eldala is crafting leather from palm fronds for one lucky soldier!
If anyone has an issue with another character holding a rank and wants it, it can be brought up here and discussed!
[Image: 515265280ffff]

::Strong like the sea is stormy::

Please only tag starting posts, spars, and threads collecting dust!
Plot with me here!

Deimos the Reaper Posts: 527
Deceased atk: 7.0 | def: 12 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1 :: 7 HP: 72.5 | Buff: NUMB

Deimos the Reaper
You can't take back the cards you've dealt on this 
long and lonely road to hell
the throne must be such a sad and lonely place

Stagnancy and complacency bore a constant wound – a dull, throbbing ache usually ignored, usually disregarded, usually folded over and forgotten. But when the motionless, still, muted crawl of its treacherous wrath began to burrow deep within the mountain lairs, it was nearly too deep, too fast, too furious. It reigned like a wraith over their sovereignty, hushed and static, blinding and ferocious, standing taller than they ever could, and the Lord despised it for what it said about the world he’d cherished for so long. It spoke of weakness, of ineptitude, of ineffectualness, of a laziness borne from days of riches and dominance, mired and torn, shredded and lifeless, amongst the gathering gallows waiting for them at the end of days. Gradually, they’d become a machine with no wheels, no engine, just an undying pattern – recruit, disappear, patrol, repeat. Gain alliances, drink in peace, clamber about in repose, repeat. It’d dulled his sword and shrouded his eyes, cast a veil over the promised lands, once so full of conviction, once so full of strength, supremacy, and power. He couldn’t fathom, couldn’t understand, where their prowess and potency had gone – perhaps flown in the face of retreating comrades, whom he’d believed loyal, gone to new stages and new places in their lives (Ashamin, the brightest Haruspex they’d ever had, Rexanna, the gilded Thief gone to bask in the glow of love and life instead of the dreaded snow). Few seemed to remain, going about their daily lives with soulless smiles or entitled regard, but it was difficult to spurn that the weight of the Aurora Basin no longer made the realms shudder. There had been a time when everything they’d done, everything they’d committed, had been noticed, had been perceived as prowess and ominous, treacherous snakes winding their way through chilling gardens and noxious valleys; they’d created an opus, a masterpiece, an oeuvre, to the determined and enduring, to the persistent and audacious, and now…now it seemed like a sinking ship, an anchor dragging them down into ruins and destruction.
He was not surprised at Hotaru’s thunderous vocals, the way her ferocity simmered and seethed along their icy threshold – because in some contortion, his frustration was the same. It didn’t leak out in waves of blood or haunting, banshee screams, but through the seething, tired, disheveled, crumbling weight of his crown, the way his shoulders carried too much and not enough all at once, the way his gaze caught over the smaller crowd, hoping for something that wasn’t there. They were better than this collapsing, fragmented force; but they had to show it, had to fight for it, had to want it.
So he listened, stood as a shadow near her, as she ranted and raved, spoke to their people, to their disciples, to their beloved comrades still capable of taking up arms, of showing the world what they were capable of. The Reaper watched the armor fall to the ground, clinking, lifeless without a master, almost bemusedly looked upon his son, pondered if he’d take up the bait, or if he’d remain silent as their Lady scolded, as she ignited, as she unraveled all the pretty pretenses, all the whimsical voids, and showed them why she’d been chosen to reign seasons ago. When she’d chosen to fall silent, when her words had spattered against the grain, he took his opportunity to rile them again, to rattle the chains that had gone lifeless and lethargic. But where Hotaru had been fire, laced with brutality, with impassioned zest, his vocals were commanding, forged by legions of ice, by finality, by the beacons of an iron-clad demon, a vicious, metallic fiend, who couldn’t stand to see them falter and stumble any longer. “We must alter the way we have been living. The Basin was never meant to be idle.” He almost relished, wished, for the days of Psyche, where the asp had slithered through her grounds and tirelessly wound along the archways for moments to spring, to act - peace was only a temporary delusion of grandeur. Eventually, chaos would splinter them all apart again, and they could not be left scattered and stupid. “Rexanna has departed and left a Thief rank open. We need another Weaver. We have few warriors. We cannot participate in a task given to us a year ago by the Spark God, because we cannot fill our positions.” He glanced at them, openly stared and defied, seditious and rebellious, a revolution burning in his lungs, along his vocals, across his black, black heart, begging for a sense of salvation, a sense of duty, to wash over the muted, dulled throng. “Where is your drive? Your motivation? Show us how the Basin thrives, instead of how it falls apart.” The piercing slate of his stare echoed on one final surge, one more demanding spike, before he left it up to their people all over again. “How do you want to be remembered?”

Photo and Table by Time
Photo taken at Hero's Square in Budapest, Hungary

Erebos Posts: 474
Aurora Basin General atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1hh :: Four HP: 75.5 | Buff: DANCE
Orsino :: Plain Kitsune :: Dark Illusions & Enyo :: Common Griffon :: Draining Clutch Heather
All my life I’ve been searching for something
The prince had been taught loyalty from an early age. His mother had whispered it throughout her legends and stories, and his father had wielded it through his blade, through his actions, through the testimony and creed of his movements and motions. But Erebos’ commitments hadn’t always been entirely to his herd - his devotions had been spread far and wide in convictions and friends, allies forged by brotherhoods and silliness, mischief and ambitions. He’d recruited when it suited him, when he was tired and bored of some other monotonous thing. He’d fought and sparred against many beasts and companions because it’d suited his aspirations for strength, for defiance, for an ability to consume, maul, rip, and tear apart an opponent – it hadn’t been for the Basin, but for himself. The selfishness had crawled and gathered its way through his mind for seasons, lapsed over with thoughts of vengeance, of requital, of slicing apart bones from sinew, flesh from hearts, so when any of his actions truly benefitted the mountains or summits, it was purely coincidental. Responsibilities had only hastened him towards the battlefield time and time again, or drawn him across the great, unfreezing lake, where he was permitted to draw his sword and face invisible enemies, drown them in the wake of his disgust, of his acrimony, of the growing need to become everything. So perhaps, as he listened to Hotaru’s speech, to his father’s demands and inquiries, he’d been a part of the problem too. His focus had never been on the chilling glaciers or the emptying caverns, only pinpointed and secured on munitions, on ramparts, on power and promises to those he cherished, forgetting the ways his family had always taught him.
He hung his head in shame, stared at the ground, bowed his skull because he was afraid to look his sire in the eye. Deimos had never pressured him into bending and following the wake of his commands – the youth had always been allowed to choose his own path, led back when the trail seemed entirely too hazardous or stupid. He’d never stepped in line with the Reaper’s shadow, never followed the same steps, never encompassed and craved the wishes of becoming General, Lord, King, or jester. He’d been permitted to explore the vast world, and he’d done so, gallantly stomping through the veins of the Gods, valorously journeying to the ends of the earth, through sands, sun, blood, and acrimony, tasting whatever drove his curiosity, sated his intrigue. But along the way, he’d discarded the hopes and dreams of their nation – sauntering as a lowly soldier, held only to protecting and conquering, growing more powerful, more daunting, barely a name to a face, meant for security and guardianship of a herd he barely knew. He’d taken it all for granted.
When he dared to bring his features back towards his leaders, the boy found Hotaru’s stare coiled upon him, then to the armor, resting, nestled between frost and might, bite and menace. It’d belonged to a General he’d never known, rarely seen, like a whisper on the wind, like a burst of flame gone out. The whole area felt the same – naked, decrepit, stripped, bare, and depleted, and he wondered why he’d never noticed, never seemed to care. Deimos had done his duty for Erebos’ entire life, and not once had the scion ever asked him what it was like to serve his herd for so long.
Now, seemingly, there was an expectation upon him. He almost thought to look around, to see into the eyes of others he hardly recognized, those he was meant to safeguard, to see if anyone else wanted the role, to see if there was anyone else who desired the rank, who’d yearned and earned and fought their way to the top. But everything, everyone, seemed so empty, so worn, so fragile, and he pressed the wariness away from his skin, away from his chest, his heart, and took a step forward. Where there was once always exuberance, a wild, passionate gaze, now Erebos only bowed against the grain, the chilling wind, the remorseless, tired, exhausted, haunted figures of his leaders. “I know I have been remiss in my duties,” he murmured, incapable of displaying anything but modesty in the face of so much desolation. “But I want to be stronger. I want this herd to be stronger.” The scion paused there, muted for a moment, leaning down to touch a piece of the cool metal thrust upon ice and snow. A slight smile dimpled into his cheeks, along his lips, not defiant, not unruly, but purely driven by something grander (maybe an infernal hiss, spiraling through a sable kitsune’s maw: take it – we can conquer, we can triumph), something greater, as he raised his head to the masses. “All I’ve ever heard are stories of how powerful the Basin once was. There shouldn’t be anything stopping us from becoming forceful again.” More poetic, more regal, more charismatic, more refined than his father, capable of speech beyond swords and nonchalance, the boy resounded once more. “We just need to try.” Then his eyes finally flickered back to the masses, smaller now than before, but still defined against the isolated landscape, the backdrop of snow and might, nodding towards them as a prince, as a born beast of the glaciers and walls. He chiseled his stare back to Hotaru, back to Deimos, and bowed his head anew to whatever sentence they yearned to proffer. “I will serve in whatever capacity you wish of me.” If he was due to become General, Corporal, or maintain the simple position of a warrior, he’d be devout to it – and take what meager morsels he’d earned.

(something never comes)
never leads to nothing—nothing satisfies
but I’m getting close

image | coding

[tl;dr: Erebos touches the armor; offers himself to be put into whatever rank the leaders wish.]

Tiamat the Ocean's Light Posts: 360
Aurora Basin Lady atk: 8 | def: 10 | dam: 3
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.2 :: 6 years HP: 60 | Buff: NOVICE
Nimue :: Common Orca Leviathan :: Boil Reli
the ocean loved her
and knew everything that made her
The echoing tones of the Hellhound’s howl reach the horned pair when they at last reach the Basin’s entrance, the baying sound reverberating from the mountain peaks and calling to all of those who call this land their home. The ocean mare slows her pace, dainty ears swiveling forward before she glances to the dappled stallion at her shoulder. Sapphire lips part, her tongue curling behind her teeth to form words, but she is abruptly cut off by a sudden, crackling boom that thunders powerfully over the snowy landscape. Nearly startled out of her skin, Tiamat jumps back—almost colliding with her new friend—before she recovers with a bashful shake of her head.

Sheepish laughter flutters from her lips, embarrassed by her reaction to their lady’s unmistakable summons. What a way to introduce the Basin to a new member! Flicking her long tail restlessly behind her, Tiamat looks to Arion, her expression brightening now that the sudden burst of adrenaline is over. “It’s your lucky day—our Lady has just called a meeting!” She chuckles at herself again, sighing heavily in a wispy cloud of breath. Clearing her throat quietly, the Mender glances around, determining where the meeting will be located.

“Follow me,” she motions to the buckskin stallion with a gentle smile. It doesn’t take long for the Valkyrie and her Hellhound to come into view, both easily distinguishable among the pristine hoarfrost of winter. There is only one other person gathered by now (the dark Prince), so Tiamat settles comfortably where the front of the crowd will soon be, waiting patiently for the others. In the meantime, she turns to Arion, whispering as her eyes trail to their leaders. “That is Hotaru the Valkyrie, our Lady of the Basin,” she gestures to the rosy maiden before shifting her focus to the shadowy stallion, unable to help the way her grin softens, “and that is Deimos the Reaper, our Lord of the Basin. Together they lead us.”

And then it begins—in a fury of lightning and passion, the Valkyrie screams at them with all the love of a weeping mother.

Admittedly, Tiamat is initially startled by the raw, fierce emotion that rolls from Hotaru in chilling, tangible waves. Her horned brow lowers to her shoulders, her entire body seeming to bow into itself as though she could make herself smaller. It is not the pink Lady’s words that alarm the Mender, but the simple volume of her voice (such ferocity, such fervor!); although the content soon follows with its burning passion, piercing her right through the heart. Tiamat rises, slowly, her heartbeat elevating with the Valkyrie’s.

This herd is a family! And being a family takes work—the bonds that tie a household to one another are not forged out of idleness. They must strive to take action together!

Soon Tiamat is holding her head high again, nostrils quivering with the fire that their leaders ignite, excitement spreading to warm her entire body. “I will do so happily, my Lady,” she tips her curved horn respectfully, honored (and unbelievably thrilled) by Hotaru’s invitation to join her in the Throat. Then the ocean mare shifts her attention to the others who have come; some are faces of friends, others she has yet to meet, but she adores all of them. With all the innocence of a child, she accepts them. “I love this herd, and will do anything in my power to see us united again. If there is anything I can do for you—any of you—please, let me know,” white eyes shine with her own emotions (softer than those of the Valkyrie) but powerful nonetheless.

After all, they are her family. She would do anything for them.

please tag Tia in all replies!
magic & force are permitted.

Eldala Posts: 64
Outcast atk: 5 | def: 9 | dam: 5.5
Mare :: Unicorn :: 14.0 hh :: 3yrs (Ages in Frostfall) HP: 63 | Buff: NOVICE
Capro :: Girgentana Goat :: None Goatfairy

ELDALA was not used to being among the first to show up at a herd meeting, in fact, she was pretty much always late to them. Today was an exception. Why? Oh, because her goat-child had just hatched probably less than a mile away so she'd been extra close when hearing the call today. /Finally, I'll get to be there on time!/ The mare had thought while gazing upon her new soul-friend, bemused.

 The kid managed to remain almost silent for the majority of the speeches and words, much to her relief. When Hotaru gave her orders directly Eldala felt a twinge of pride but that didn't last long. Deimos's words hit hard and she cast her eyes down. She had been slacking a bit. Really, she should have had much more done at this point. She waited for a space to speak and then her voice came out apologetic, but strong. "I shall do as you command, my Leads. My Lord, my Lady, I am sorry for any inefficiencies I have committed and can assure you it will not happen again. When I have the armor done, perhaps I might be permitted to begin work on some traps? Tripwire, netting, and the like? Of course, I would require some help from the soldiers but it would be doable in order to fortify the land against invasion." It was, quite possibly, the most official monologue she'd ever given. Satisfaction filled her soul until she looked down to find Capro was gone. /Oh no, where have you gone little one?/

 Panic floods the mare for all to see as she realizes she was about to lose any merits she may have gained in about five seconds. Why? Oh, because her goatfant was currently toddling towards Lady Hotaru's hellhound. He bleats loudly at Alice, teasing her, before instinctively floofing away, up a rock, and then plunking himself unceremoniously onto her Lady's RUMP. The sinking feeling which had been creeping up on her hit full blast as her stomach fell to the other side of the earth. Capro bleated happily at Hotaru.

"Oh, oh gods! I am so, so sorry my Lady! He's mine. He just hatched a few hours ago and, well, we don't quite understand each other yet. I shall try my hardest to ensure he doesn't do it again."  The young mare rushes forwards to retrieve her little demon before returning to the ranks, head down, making eye contact with no one. /Why did you have to pick Hotaru, little one? Its like you're spiting me for being born./


-Pixel by Niki-

△ All friendly/neutral contact is fine but no permanent injury/maiming/death △
△ Please tag me for everything you can, it helps me remember△

Aisling the Fae Posts: 112
Absent Abyss atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 4.5
Mare :: Equine :: 13.1 :: 6 :: Birdsong HP: 63 | Buff: NOVICE
Sorcha :: Common Green Dragon :: Fire Breath Laine
The howl woke the dragon and the dragon woke the mare. A sharp 'Krreee!' trilling from the while jaws of the young (still weasel sized) Sorcha as she bounced excitedly around her mistress' face and starting a little chant of 'Kiickii kiickii' Between the familiar sound and emotions that greeted her upon waking, Aisling knew instantly that the little dragon had friends on her mind. Almost immediately a crash like thunder rang through the Basin and the little enchantress was up to her feet and letting the dragon climb aboard her shoulder to ride as her wings were still rather unpracticed.  Aisling made no delay in answering to Hotaru's booming summons, knowing enough of her Lady's power to recognize its signature upon the crackling air of Frostfall.

Despite her short stature the heavy snows did not daunt her; she was nimble and only acted dainty and moved through the heavy drifts with fortitude of not perfect ease. With an eagerness to see everything even if they'd come the way already, Sorcha perched herself between the little mare's ears. A vivid green against the white of Aisling and the world around them, the flamboyantly colored feathers gave the definite impression that the thief was wearing a headdress but at least it was a pretty one. The braids in her mane had been taken over by the dragon as well, and they seemed to grow more intricate by the day, 

Aisling soon came to the place her queen had summoned them all to and the dragon was quick to descend. She plunged into a snowbank, digging like a little terror until she reached the ground beneath and emerged with the most wonderful thing (in her estimation): an acorn. Reverently, the little dragon laid it at Hotaru's feet in offering and then scampered off to find gifts for all her other new friends. There was a shiny black stone the size of her mistress's hoof for Deimos first and that took some effort for Sorcha to move, but when that was placed before the Lord's feet she moved on to others who had come. 

Keeping a cursory eye on her dragon's gift-giving, Aisling took her place at Hotaru's right hand. She left enough space so the Lady was still the center of attention, but her position made her support of Hotaru quite evident. If the white Thief had not held a shimmering loyalty to the rosey Lady before, their time on the Steppe had sealed Aisling to her service and to the service of the Basin. She watched with a flair of pride at the passionate fervor with which the Valkyrie commanded the meeting. She had seen Hotaru in a pitiful state but lost no respect for her, indeed it only grew to see just how resilient and strong her Queen could be. Somehow, Hotaru's strength made even the little thief feel bolder, stronger as well. She was Aisling the Enchantress, Thief of the Basin and The Valkyrie's right hand, blessed by Sun and Moon, Spinner of Songs. There was no reason she shouldn't be proud.

The fae gave a firm nod of affirmation at Hotaru's mention of Kisamoa. She'd watched the water-creature carefully, and kept her ears open for another appearance. She had a mind to go to the Veins and seek the council of the Gods and Goddess if she could not learn more of him. She could not shake from her mind his similarities to the secretive kelpies of her homeland and that did not sit lightly upon her conscience. Another affermative nod, and a smile this time, was given at the Queen's request. "Aye, I will be glad to accompany you."

When Deimos had had his say, Aisling interjected "Johnny has woken from his sleep and is recovering quickly, I am sure he would resume his role as Weaver once he is fit to it, but that will be left to your discretion, my lord." She turned her focus to the gathered herd "As for another Thief, I would be grateful for the assistance and more than one pair of eyes to aid us would be welcome if there a more here who find themselves drawn to the task--Or, who would take up the task for the good of the herd. If there are acquisitions needed, please come to me, but it is information on the happenings in Helovia we will need as we build ourselves up."

i know of witches who whistle at different pitches
calling things that don't have names

Hairstyle reference

ALL: Feel free to PP Sorcha bringing you random forrest bits and bobs.
[now come the days of the dreamer and they are filled with wonder and light ]
:: permission given for use of magic and force :: please tag Aisling in all posts ::

Arion Posts: 11
Outcast atk: 6.0 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.3hh :: 4 HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE

THEY trudged further and further inland and then even further up. Arion was feeling grateful, and not just vain, about his filled out frame by the time they reached the isolated Aurora Basin. His new companion had not been lying when she'd called it beautiful. The mountains rose far up into the clouds, dotted with trees and an, oddly, unfrozen lake. It was all the picture of dramatic beauty with no one feature holding back the whole. It was, he thought, the perfect home for his newfound friend and her magically floating companion; as outlandishly beautiful as themselves.

Crack! The resounding noise spooked the stallion at its utterance as well as Tiamat. His head was held high to watch for the source when she stumbled into him but he didn't move away. Instead holding firm as an anchor for the kind mare. The embarrassed laughter which bubbled up to the air caused him a few chuckles in unison with hers. "Well, I'm certainly not tired anymore." He says with a grin, trying to dispel her discomfort.  But then she's off, fast as a sailfish, telling him to follow her to a herd meeting.

Fancy that, I've only just arrived and I already get to meet the Lord and Lady of the land AND will obviously find my sister in the fray.  He took a breath after Tiamat finished her words and was about to speak when his sister came from the crowd. She was a little taller now, not nearly as fat, and she had an important title. His little sister who had cried when she'd been given the required placeholder title of an extended royal. Eldala. His head quirked to the side at her official, grown up manner. She seemed so sure of herself here, so strong, so smart. He'd never have thought she'd be like this in a million years.

He follows her line of sight and got to the source just in time to watch the small bit of chaos unfold. Now that was just like his sister.  He felt he had a decision to make here, in this singular moment. He could speak up, take her away from everything she seemed to love, or he could just join her and see where it took him for a while. He'd been gone from his home for over a year already...he highly doubted that he'd be missed much more than he was already. Besides, there was an astonishingly unique mare sitting at his side who he rather wanted to learn more about. He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and when he opens them again is the charming diplomat his father raised him to be. "Pardon me, my honored Queen. I've only just arrived, but I do have extensive training in combat and strategies. I was accepted into the herd as a soldier, and will faithfully execute that duty should you decline my request, but I feel as if my level of knowledge might best fit with the rank of Corporal. If you require a reference of my character then I am sure my sister, Eldala, would be happy to step up."

He bows reverently to both the leads, flashes a smile at his sibling, and awaits their response. Soon after, a quaint little mare stepped up who was, apparently, the head of the intelligence division. Well, this herd was certainly full of surprises. A curious dragon, making rounds giving small gifts to various horses, finds their way to his person. It carefully sizes him up and then hands him a singular stick with a leaf, like a flag, and so he smiles and nods happily at the creature in thanks. These companions seemed to be important parts of life here in Helovia. His gaze flickers over to Tiamat because, though he would never admit it, he was a bit nervous about how he'd done with the leads.



OOC:  Arion would like to claim a spot in the Corporal rank. =)

Albrecht Posts: 249
Aurora Basin Impersonator atk: 6 | def: 8.5 | dam: 2.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.1hh :: 19 (Orangemoon) HP: 60 | Buff: NOVICE
Strom :: Suma Ball Python :: None Townsen

The old bastard wanders in, green eyes rolling at the vehemence of the Lord and Lady's announcements. Again they proudly belt out claims of strength and unity, and again their target audience is embarrassingly thin. He wonders exactly how prestigious they think these ranks are supposed to be if just anyone can waltz in and say, 'Hey! I'ld like some armor and rank magic! Make me your Corporal/Thief/Weaver!'

The Valkyrie is as stunning as ever, of course - 'dat ass,' Strom provides in a comical imitation of the stallions thoughts - and the Reaper as menacing, but as with the previous years meetings he struggles to even remember the last time he's seen either of the leads patrolling or interacting with the herd. Where do they go he wonders, and do they go there together? Hotaru seems to be absent more often than Deimos, but that doesn't mean they aren't spending those long stretches of time away from the Basin in shared company. He turns, eying Erebos for a brief moment. 'No pink.' The python chimes in. No curves, the black agrees.

There's a new face in the tiny gathering, a young stallion full of confidence and supposed knowledge, as all young souls believe themselves to be. The elder simply shakes his beard, content to have a stranger and a fool for Corporal if that's what the illustrious leads desire. What does he care if the herd is invaded? He'll leave or switch sides, whichever comes easier and with greater payoff. It's hardly his responsibility to fix a herd that doesn't care to fix itself beyond empty words and grandiose postures. Still, if positions are just being given away...

"Promote me." He says simply, no explanation given. Why bother? They either will or they won't, based on merit or affection matters little to him, given that he posesses neither. "Also, I've been present for all of Kisamoas antics thus far. He seems benevolent right now, but he's drawing a hard line of blind faith as requirement for his favors. He gave us an outline of his mission in the name of the Earth God, but he could have a second agenda too. The price is right for a Kisamoa cult."

He glances down at the small dragon rushing from one side of the gathering to the other, stopping at each of the herd members hooves before dashing off again. One brow arches at the current Thief, whom he knows to be the creatures bonded from personally - accidentally - attending its hatching, before the streak of emerald comes suddenly to him, trilling loudly. His ears pin, but his muzzle lowers slightly in question, torn between wanting the noise to stop, understanding that already this young companion must have a negative impression of him - who doesn't? - and wanting to know what it is the little green has brought.

"Alby talks" 'Strom talks'
OOC // I didn't know if Sorcha would give him something or tell him to go fuck himself. XD

image by mar!
[Image: 56c616e54affc]Rated M, R, NC-17, AO, 18+, NSFW
Tag dat azz!  @Albrecht
Violence & Magic okay.
Wish - Away - OOC

Cassius Posts: 46
Aurora Basin Haurspex atk: 3.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.0h :: 4 [Birdsong] HP: 64 | Buff: NOVICE

»› C A S S I U S ‹«

It hasn’t been a full day yet, when Cassius hears the howl and the boom that follows with it. The tired stallion remains weary from his journey, and yet the strange noises warrant investigation. Not that he wanted to run straight into a pack of wolves, or anything. He moves despite his reservations, cautious of the area around him, refusing to pin himself into a tight spot when wolves prowled the area.

Upon the grounds he spots the group, and the source of the howl. It bewilders the stallion momentarily, but perhaps it has something to do with Nimue as well? And there are others that trail behind their chosen equid.

Pocketing this strange pattern in his observations, Cassius settles behind the small group. Swishing his tail in nervous habit. Because when he glances upon the one who seems to have called them, she is vibrating with energy and a frevor he finds no cause for. Soon enough the story spills, and Cassius is worried how great a kingdom this place presumedly had been. Were they bullies in the realm at one point? Proclaiming strength – somehow, but in what way? It makes him sick to think of anything tyrannical… but such is not the case, if the problem at hand is idleness.

He swallows dryly at the mentions of family. The good of the whole; one that he is unawares of, blind and virgin to the inner workings of the Basin. He glances among them, uncertain if they would die for his sake or vice versa.

Cassius snaps his warm eyes, flecked with disjointed worry and smouldering thoughts, upon the one who claims as Lady. He is not a warrior, he knows this resolutely, and the idea is impossible to fathom given the deficit in the herd. It furrows his brows further, merely a thoughtful countenance that owes its softeness in his eyes. She mentions the presence of a new god, when the stallion has hardly thought of gods in the first place. It is good to know, but the mysteries of this world are drowning his head with endless routes and travels. Flailing in the depth, seeking purchase for air – but such was the case he did not up from down, and on he drowned.

The stallion beside the mare, dark, regal and commanding by the tone of his voice and the ire in his gaze, spares no one his eyes. He too must be a leader, or so the gray assumes. Not long after their riling, there are those who offer up their services.

With a steady sigh the stallion steps forward, closer, however hesitant of breaching too close a proximity with the strangers about him. “My name is Cassius. I am but a fledgling in your community… I must be honest, and forthcoming when I say I do not have the heart to fight. As warriors do. But perhaps I may be of some use as one of your scholars.” A brief pause as he gathered himself. “Perhaps… as one who seeks knowledge, it would be thorough to reach out to the other herds. Alliances permitted… it wouldn’t hurt to share knowledge. Touch base with their scholars. And who knows? It might help broaden our gaze. But by all means, this is my suggestion only. I do not mean to intrude.”

He lowered his head, so that it did not sit so proud upon him. And waited steadily for their responses.

Enna Posts: 172
Aurora Basin Time Mender atk: 6 | def: 9.5 | dam: 4
Mare :: Unicorn :: 14.1 :: 5 ( TALLSUN ) HP: 61 | Buff: NOVICE
Mehr :: Arctic Wolf :: None kels
She calls, and they come. It does not escape your notice that they are slower, fewer than before. It had been a steady leak as one and then another had left, the numbers slowly dwindling over time. You have, in seldom moments when your attention has not been focused on your son, the misfortunes and heartache that have been eating holes within your soul, noticed that you have been seeing less of the familiar faces that you have known since the beginning, more strangers, and even more that you have only seen once before they, too, have disappeared. It has not escaped you that your home, those that you have chosen (though maybe not as a whole) as your family, has been slowly unraveling. Even as the Valkyrie begins, throwing down glinting armor into the fresh snow, you keep your distance from the group, your body sore and tired from the short, chilling walk from your cave nestled within the dusted trees – a cave you would still be resting in were it not for the pesky feeling of duty. You cannot help but to smirk at yourself for being so ridiculous, your shoulders rolling slowly as you try to convince yourself that this whole thing will be for the better. You watch as her speech carries on, a speech meant to ignite and rally those that still cling to the promise of the Basin.

Her frustration is clear, and as she ends and Deimos begins, there is something… worn about it all – and maybe that is just you, not them in their fervent belief in something better, something greater, just you and the darkness of a hopelessness that sits heavy in your chest, because others begin to rally. Your eyes catch sight of familiar blue before you actually understand what you are seeing; hear the hum of his voice before you grasp what he is saying. Unbidden pride blooms within you, and it takes all of you not to embrace him, embarrass him, to worry for him. There is a blur of white, followed by an obnoxious noise that steals your attention away as a young goat leaps on to Hotaru’s back. The action is met with quiet mirth, especially as its girl races to profusely apologize before returning to the crowd. There are even more new faces, faces that speak of their abilities and profess their loyalty. You wonder just how shallow those gestures are, just how long these strangers will stay. And then it is not a stranger that speaks up. Promote me, he says, and you snort quietly. You have still not forgiven him for the very first time you had met him, trailing (very vocally) behind a dangerous, if not just as ill-mannered girl into the Basin, and insults lay thick on your black tongue. It is only the memory of how it had fractured the masses, lead so many to leave, that you remain silent, too afraid of the repercussions to do any differently.

* tldr: sits in the back, moping like always :'D

please tag enna in every post
violence permitted barring permanent injury / death

Johnny Posts: 161
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 13 hh :: 10 years
Jellybean :: Common Griffin :: Molten Dagger Sarah
So like, it is way too early for this. I’m just minding my own business, I’ve barely even started to walk out of the cave again and move and all of a sudden there’s LIGHTNING SHAKING THE BASIN and I know our Lady is seriously pissed off. I mean, so mad that I really don’t even want to go. Like at all. It’s too much.

I like thinking of Hotaru as the pretty lady that licked me the last time I saw her and I don’t really want to be yelled at.

But I’m awake and I’m feeling okay so I figure I should even just show up and prove to everyone that I am alive. Jellybean is, of course, absolutely excited to be near so many others again - and to see Sorcha and any other companions that have been born since our isolation.

Despite her excitement and how infectious it is, we move slowly. I’m skinnier than I’ve ever been in my life - preferring to keep a nice thick layer of winter fat to keep me comfortable year round - but now you could play the outline of my ribs through my coat like an xylophone. I wonder, idly, what sort of tune it would be and Jellybean brushes one of her paws against my sides in a delicate, forlorn gesture - as if she feels the loss of that weight as well.

What a shame, I guess I’ll have to spend the rest of the day eating.

Hotaru was already yelling by the time we showed up and quite honestly, I was already exhausted. Not about the subject matter - of course - just from that WALK. I mean it must have taken a whole 10 minutes!!

I saw someone standing at the back of the crowd - an antlered girl I only remember from meetings - and I drift towards her. I’m not my usual dazzling self - my white coat is long and dirty and Jellybean reminds me often that I still look sick even though I’m actually feeling much better - but I hope that she won’t mind the company. All I really do is whicker softly at her before sitting down in the snow nearby. It’s not a totally comfortable position but man did my hooves need a break after the hike over here from my cave. I’d honestly lie down but I’m pretty sure that would be pushing it - and I’m afraid I’d fall asleep and miss the whole thing!

This time, it’s only Hotaru really that’s shouting, not the entire herd, which is a nice change. Deimos mentions that there’s some positions open and Aisling, my sweet Aisling, pipes up to let him know I’m awake.

I know I should say something, to offer to take back my job as Weaver, but I can’t quite find the energy to waltz through the crowd and announce my triumphant return. I feel like that might be more of a private conversation - because Deimos and Hotaru of course should find someone who isn't - wasn't - sick. Jellybean is too busy keeping an eye out for the dragon, hoping that she’ll bring a little present our way, and for once she’s not squawking.

I mean I know why she's quiet - I know it’s because she can feel my head swimming and she doesn’t want to make things worse because then I’ll have to go back to the cave.

All I really manage to do is find a dreamy smile because I realize that it’s my girl, my babymama and sweet thing, who is standing up there beside Hotaru. And I’m so very proud of her.

come with me, honey
I'm your sweet sugar candyman
image credits

sits (literally) near @Enna ;)
[Image: Johnny%20by%20Aud_zpsi3ssx2s1.gif]
magic and physical force permitted at all times
vigorous licking strongly encouraged
please tag in all posts

Larue Posts: 45
Absent Abyss
Filly :: Unicorn :: 13 hh :: 1

There was shouting. A lot of it. Coming from Lady Hotaru. The lemon drop snorted softly to herself and used some choice words she had learned from Shida (her idol), realizing that she would have to abandon her trick-in-progress to attend the summons of the Basin leaders. Didn’t they realize she was in the middle of something? Couldn’t they choose a better time to call a meeting?

Stomping her rose-thorn hoof in irritation, she looked at her handiwork: a sturdy strand from a horses’ tail tied to a branch that precariously supported a woven-grass basket of sulphur water from the hot springs. Though her weaving job was not nearly as good as that of the Basin’s crafters (water steadily dripped from it), it would hold long enough for her purposes. This was a well-traveled trail in the herdlands, after all. And unsuspecting victim was bound to get doused in an surprising shower—

Or, at least, they were until Deimos and Hotaru called a meeting. Twitching her tail with annoyance (it was just at her hocks now), she spun abruptly on heel and trotted with sharp, stabbing steps towards the call.

Of course she was late, but in her adolescent fog, she didn’t care. Instead, she gave a wary glare to Albrecht, giving his hooves a very wide berth before coming to stand alongside her sitting dad. Though her pique hadn’t work off yet (give it a few more seconds), so she remained silent as she waited. This had better be good for her to abandon such an awesome prank.

...pucker up
image | bckg

Is surly/silent and stands next to @Johnny

Please tag in all posts.

Beloved Posts: 121
Aurora Basin Soldier atk: 8.5 | def: 10 | dam: 3
Mare :: Unicorn :: 14.3 :: Appears 6 HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
Orphan :: Ragdoll Cat :: None Bunnie
It had only been a matter of time, after all.

They are there, in the snow. Multitudes, shivering, balking, watching, as a rose tinted cloud casts cries alongside the Dark One, her words lackluster lightning strikes through the air out towards those gathered. Among these raised shouts and bodies, Beloved arrives, a white snake slinking, her ears twitch, twitching to catch the promises cast upon the wind.

Thieves, Generals, Weavers… and waste.

Her silver brimmed eye tilts to the sentinels in the distance, their bodies ruinous and decaying, though, from here, all she can see are their distantly huddled, and growingly decrepit, figures slowly succumbing to the earth; invisible is the rust eating at their pelts, and the frayed wires of their hearts.

She sees that rust here, on these living bodies, though.

A boy offers to serve as a warrior, and an old man claims rank a without a name or reason. Her lips tilt, a mocking sort of smile, her laughter quiet, and tittering, as she looks from each to the next. Where were the ravens, the hounds, the fell beasts? There were no wolves here that she could see, but the Dark One, and herself, and though her gluttonous heart groans at the sight of all that succulent power laid out before her, so easily snared in grasping teeth…

Beloved does not allow herself to feast.

The emerald dragon is met with distrust as her hooves move to carry her closer the front, towards the bleak Reaper and his raucous, snowy sunrise of a Lady. Her dainty head pivots swiftly, teeth gnashing at the empty air between herself and the cheerful beast, her ears vanished among the spidery strands of her pale hair. With tail still trashing in hostility at being so nearly molested, the murderous maiden traipses onward no sooner than the dragon attunes to her vile intentions. Her ears are resurrected only to speak to the Dark One, the Reaper, Death Walking, delicate limbs swaying to a cryptic pseudo-halt, ever dancing beneath her..

"Beloved has… skills," she croons to him, her bi-chromatic gaze glassy, and emotionless (but for the twisted, filthy metals and flesh jaggedly webbed within in her soul, that hauntingly gleam and glower, endlessly changing shape, bending, breaking). The haunting song of her laughter bubbles, rises, and is suddenly cut short by the beckoning of her cherub’s lilt, as she continues: "and they are yours, as the Dark One wills. Shadow or blade, for Beloved is both, and more."

And what of the Weaving? her own mind ridicules, a bodiless voice comprised of black, beckoning laughter, and the broil of liquid stone beneath the veneer of the volcano’s sealed mouth.

"Beloved does not create," darkly answers the she-witch, more quietly than she’d told Deimos of herself, her smile tilted, wrong, her giggles nervous as she allows herself to fall back into the crowd.

[ OOC: The High-Lord of the Cryptic basically says she’ll serve as a soldier or a thief, wherever she is most needed! ]

Tag Beloved, please!

Feel free to attack her with physical or magical violence at your own risk. ;D

Mortuus Nox Posts: 187
Aurora Basin Time Mender atk: 3.5 | def: 10 | dam: 7
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.2 :: Immortal HP: 66.5 | Buff: NOVICE
image credits

He woke from his sleep with a roaring call. The demonic stallion lifted his heavy skull and stood up. Gray eyes looked to the world outside of his home and a yawn came from his mouth. Soon the scared man stood up and threw another log onto the fire. He was always the one who wanted to take care of the source that kept him warm in the winter. Cracked hooves moved to the mouth of the cave and his demonic crown turned to find where his lady and lord were standing. Moving from the cave snow fell upon the black beast. The lady called and the others gathered around. He came to a halt beside the ocean beauty "Hello Beautiful." His black maw reached out to touch the mare's cheek. His attention fell back on the lady speaking. She talked about how powerful they use to be, and how their ranks suffer. He nodded in agreement with the woman, then the reaper spoke of the same thing. How had the Basin become so dead? Cocking a leg his head tilted learning about Rexanna leaving to go to another herd. Cold gray eyes watched as one stood up to say he will be the general. Nox sat back quiet, but his voice did rise from the crowd "Please let me know how I can help in any way my Lord and Lady."

Your Fears have just Become all too Real, for the Devil at the Cross road wants to make a Deal

Please tag Mortuus Nox in all posts
magic & permanent injury is permitted excluding death.

Romina Posts: 33
Filly :: Unicorn :: 15.2hh :: 9 Months
the more people you love
the weaker you are

Romina has seen her mother in many facets, but never impassioned and energized and angry like this before. She comes because her mother's retreating back, armor draped across her shoulders in an unusable fashion, prompts her curiosity more than anything. As the Valkyrie calls the meeting with a haunting chorus of hellsong and electrical power, the doe trails her way down to meet those who wander forth first. She has no place at her mother's side, not during a meeting like this, where the rose maiden calls attention and demands obedience. Instead she keeps to the edges, skirts away from the multitude of strange faces bobbing in the crowd, and she looks for her brother.

The rest doesn't matter. It can come and go as it pleases, and her mother's words wash over her carelessly. Romina snorts unhappily to herself to see Johnny and Eldala returning to the fold, bitter and hateful of their useless souls stealing her beloved twin's position away from him. If the Basin is falling to shambles, why don't they promote those willing and capable of carrying the torch? It seems stupid to the young girl, who did not believe in the adage that age made you wise. No, logic and reasoning and watching those going before you crash and burn made you wise. Wisdom was not an account of years scratched onto a cavern wall, it was a measurement of how wide you could open your eyes to feast on the knowledge surrounding you.

Romina did not let these blasphemous thoughts fall from her lips. She was too loyal to her family to ever speak against her mother in such a public arena - an irony, considering her mother had done that very thing when she was but a child herself. Romina was not destined to walk in her mother's shoes, however, and so she sat and stewed in petty silence, unhappy that her talents were crushed by her lack of age.

If they didn't want to utilize her, they had no place in calling her away from her adventures to force her through these charades.


Lena the Songbird Posts: 663
Aurora Basin Time Mender atk: 4 | def: 10.5 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3 :: 6 HP: 69 | Buff: NOVICE
Imogen :: Common Kitsune :: Fire Heather

Lena & Imogen

The shouting, the screaming, the banshee wails were a summons she couldn’t ignore – she knew the echo of their tones, the rumble of their growls, the siren who beckoned them all to show and face down the fringes of their failures. The Songbird and her kitsune arrived only just after ensuring Roland was secure, back within the strong, forged mountains where the walls seemingly shook with absolute rage – and perhaps they’d all been slowly falling apart, and Lena had been too busy unraveling from her own sentiments to see it all leisurely fraying. One thread seemed to snap, then another, and another, toppling an entire tapestry, a beautiful oeuvre, a masterful opus into something like this: a fragile line of souls, all maligned, all exhausted, all defeated. She looked around and glanced towards those she knew and trusted and cherished: Johnny, awakened from wherever he’d been left, wondrous Tiamat proffering her services, the prince pledging his arms, the fairy Thief, and the unknown inhabitants too, praying they’d survive the maelstrom. A part of her knew they would – because they’d withstood so many things far worse than withering occupants and the din of desolation (they’d seen monsters spring from friends, demons wage war, gods fall, perish, and die). It was just one more pinnacle of weakness, one more obstacle to conquer and defeat. So she spoke, proud and strong and poignant, granting her melodies and harmonies from the side, maneuvering closer and closer to her leaders until she stood yards before them, bowing her head, then raising it to a refined, regal splendor. “The Basin has known far greater perils, and we have overcome them. I’m sure we’ll be able to prevail again.” We always have, she wanted to add, but the confidence, the certainty in her stance, in her heart, would pervade and court just the same; a blissful thread of tunes soothing the ruffled feathers, the spread of sedition before it could truly begin. She continued, on a spark, on a whim, polishing the semblance of healer orchestrations. “The greenhouse has slowly been filled with many of our herbs, and I intend to gather more as spring approaches. Please, let me know if you need me for anything.” I want to help, her mouth provided in silent prayers and reverence for a land she’d always cherished, always loved. 

Fault lines tremble underneath my glass house
But I put it out of my mind long enough to call it courage
To live without a lifeline

Image Credits

Tangere Posts: 159
Aurora Basin Medic atk: 5 | def: 9 | dam: 5.5
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.2hh :: Six Years | Birdsong HP: 63 | Buff: NOVICE
Phrixus :: White Raven :: None Psilo

“how long is forever?” asked alice.
“sometimes just one second.” said the white rabbit.


The white raven's feathers stand on end as the shrill howl spreads like a shock-wave across the Basin, which is just now starting to bask in the pink light of a rising sun. The forests have been awake for hours, even in the darkness, the slumber of winter is deepening but still some diligently mine away at their daily tasks. Snow encases everything and so the ongoing search to fill one's tummy is always available as a task – that is what the piebald unicorn is busy doing when the Queen casts her call out to the herd. Phrixus swoops down from the pines to land in front of her, cocking his head to the side and croaking slowly, his breath rises as curls of mist as he peers up at the shaggy sienna eyed mare.

It's Hotaru. Their minds think in unison and it's unclear which mind declared the statement first, nor does it matter, because it is certainly fact. Phixus lifts off with a powerful sweep of his giant wings and his companion starts after him, first jogging and then loping through the knee-deep snow until she reaches a well worn path – where she can then pick up speed to join the gathering crowd.

They arrive just before their Queen tosses a clanking heap of armor in a pile before her. Phrixus grabs at his mare's withers and leers around her ruffled mane while she finds her place among the crowd, wide-eyed at the sharpened voice and bold of the Queen she hasn't really seen much (not because Ru's not around, but because Tangere is not engaged much in herd life).

Change. Her inner voice mulls the word, forms the dreams of what spreads from such a word, weaving through the possibilities as she studies the face of her rose-blood colored leader. Tangere still has not fully decided whether or not all of her faith can be put into the Lady, but today, now, at least she is trying to summon some sort of win for the once thriving Kingdom of the North. Deimos brings himself forward in typical form and her hazelnut eyes move across him only briefly, her ears twitching at his growling voice and riling rhetorical questions.

I am a healer and a scholar, a gardener and botanist – I care not for the spoils of war, or the violence of battle; but for my family? She keeps the idea inside for now, as others are stepping forward. Many seem serious, many seem much stronger physically than herself, she sighs quietly in relief and leaves the subject of joining the army to herself. She slides closer to Lena and follows her lyrical voice with her own soft, chiming tone. “Yes, me too, anything to help.” She nods, half-heartedly satisfied. She was hoping to have more input, more impact, but she simply has nothing for them other than her open offer.

  • You may use violence and magic against her at will, but no death.
  • Please tag me so I don't forget anyone(:

Frost Fyre Posts: 198
Outcast atk: 5 | def: 9 | dam: 5.5
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3hh :: 6 Years HP: 64 | Buff: NOVICE
Altair :: Common Cerndyr :: Starpast prissy
Aurora Basin
A shiver raced down her dark spine, drawing a chilled breath from her lungs. Her ebon ears pinned to the maiden's head at the infuriated howl of her lady. She knew at once that her presence was needed away from her cave. 'Altair,' The Haruspex snapped, 'come.' The cerndyr followed obediently in the cloved prints of his bonded, his body similarly tensed, though the regal companion retained his curious, whimsical disposition.

The mottled girl reached the outskirts of the meeting as quickly as she possibly could, coming to an abrupt halt amidst foreign faces. Her concerned gaze briefly slid around the crowd, noting the absence of a few prominent figures before devoting her attention wholly to her Lord and Lady.

During the course of the Lady's fierce disquisition, Frost came to understand why she was called the Valkyrie. She also came to the conclusion that she wanted none other than the Reaper and the Valkyrie leading in that moment. The maiden slid through the herd, her gaze fixated upon her leaders, pausing only when she heard a conversation that piqued her interest.

Cassius. The name is etched into her memory, as is his face. 'He new,' Altair offered, his presence almost startling the maiden as he came to stand by her side. 'Indeed,' she added, emeralds ignoring her companion and resting instead on the grey and his lips as he breathed the word scholar.

"Pardon me," her gaze lifted respectfully to her leaders before flicking back to the grey. "My name is Frost Fyre, I am the Haruspex," she stated for Cassius before addressing her Lord and Lady, "I believe staying divisive from my fellow wise ones in this time of great uncertainty would be inexpedient. I would like to visit each of the herds, accompanied by Cassius, if he would, and ask their wise ones what they know of Kisamoa, and request their knowledge on the great threats of the past. There is much to be learned on how to handle gods. Perhaps history's dealings with them could be beneficial to us?"

The Haruspex prayed silently that her proposition would go over well before dipping her head in a graceful bow. "Even if my Lord and Lady prohibit this proposal, know that my services are always at your command," She stated, meaning this with all she had.

speaks to @Cassius @Hotaru and @Deimos !
used this table bc WOO GO BASIN

image | coding
Dawn is coming
open your eyes

Hotaru the Valkyrie Posts: 295
Outcast atk: 7 | def: 10.5 | dam: 3
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3hh :: 6 Years 3 Months HP: 67 | Buff: NOVICE
Alice :: Royal Hellhound :: Acid Brit
and Alice

To her side she beckons the Reaper, for they are entities that travel hand in hand. She the one who calls the souls of the warriors to their eternal rest, he the one who rips it from their bodies and hands it to her like a gift of ethereality. Together they haunt the caverns and ridges of the northern mountains, their voices like fate booming in the decibels of their words even when they speak softly. They face their mystic soldiers and beckon their spirits forth into their throats, simultaneously threatening and encouraging. One wrong move and their entangled hands would rip those flickering lights from their bodies - as surely as they felled others on the field of battle. He echoes her passion with the grim grip of death that he represents, a foil to her passion of bloodletting and honorable death. And they stare up at them, some quiet, others passionate in their rising vocals. She shifts her eyes to them in turn, giving them all their due attention.

Erebos comes forth to the armor she presents, and a proud expression flits across her granite-perfect features. "Then rise as our General, Erebos. Wear this armor with pride, and serve your herd." Hotaru wants to spare a glance for Deimos, gauge his reaction, but she cannot imagine him disagreeing. He is a patron of destruction, surely he would have no objections to his son following in his steps. But Erebos is not the only warrior to speak up - some are new, in fact, and fierce hope grips her heart in hot, sparking hands. Arion calls her Queen, and she tips her head elegantly, listening attentively as he speaks. If he is family, she will award him the respect of her attention as she does any other northern dweller.

"Test your mettle against one of our soldiers, and speak with Erebos. He shall be your General. If he finds you have the talent, the rank is yours to take. But you must show you desire it," she smiles, mischief and amusement sparkling in the corners of her eyes like fallen stars. Whether he won or lost did not matter - it was his impression on Erebos that mattered. Though if he was any relative of Eldala, she did not think she had much to fret over regarding his personality.

The dark mare does not speak to her, only to Deimos, but Hotaru lifts a brow and lets her hammer fall swift and sure upon the anvil of her own conjured words. "We are more in need of soldiers than thieves, if the rank appeals to you," she notes, leaving the odd, twisted mare to her ramblings against the Reaper. If he wanted to deal with her, well. All the more fun for him.

With the soldiers dealt with she turns to the spies, the thieves and shadows who unknowingly traced her gilded steps. She can feel Aisling at her side, the dangerous beauty in the shadows of her throne, and cannot help the quirk of her smile and the settling of her bones. Her right hand was never far, and Aisling's resonating voice, proud and filled with conviction, was music in the Lady's ears. No fitter mare could accompany  her to the Edge, after all. And no better mare could keep Albrecht in line than the fierce mare at her flank, either.

"Then find yourself at Aisling's command, Albrecht, and welcome to the rank of Impersonator. Any further news you have of Kisamoa, please share with us." What a shame that there was no space for flirtations, but Hotaru could always catch up with the copper lad later. But Aisling had mentioned another - Johnny, her pink-painted friend, who looked far worse for wear from where she stood overlooking them all. He did not speak in regards to her summons for the weavers, but Eldala did - and Hotaru's eyes gleamed with delight at her suggestions.

"If you desire, you may hand over the materials to Johnny for him to weave into armor. Your ideas are promising, and we will go over them together in private." There was really no question to it, a statement more than a request. With the sentinels broken and decaying, they needed better forms of defense. Alice's snarl brings her attention from the crowd to the goat toddling toward her, and the hellhound's teeth flash and drip acid all across the snow as it jumps onto her. Her skin jumps but she doesn't move, not wanting a knobby hoof to the spine. Alice's snarls deepen until her body shakes but scarcely utters any audible noise, and Hotaru is tempted to take the metaphorical leash off her - until Eldala spits blubbering apologies and retrieves the wayward companion again. "Please do," she says wryly, though her eyes are faintly amused even if Alice prowls between her legs unhappily.

The rest she casts her eyes across, until Frost Fyre speaks, and the Lady smiles. It's an echo of the newcomer Cassius, whom she nods to. "We are on neutral terms with the other herds, enough for a polite conversation at borders if nothing else for the time being. Cassius, if you are of the mind, join Frost Fyre on her mission to the herdlands. We will happily welcome you into the rank of Disciple," was offered with a warm smile, welcoming him to the fold. "Frost Fyre, if you feel you are in need of any others, you may request an escort."

At last, everything else is finished.

"If any of you have questions, seek me out privately. Deimos as well. If you are new here, welcome - feel free to acquaint yourself with the lands around you, as this is your new family. This lull cannot continue, and I thank all of you for coming. If there are no more questions or decisions to be made, then you may go about your duties," she excused them with the same warm, firm command as before. Laxness could not be awarded so early in the wake of her disapproval, and she would be watching them closely, but she would not keep them there to beat them around the ears when it seemed the information had reached at least some of them.

- Erebos has been made General! There is now only one General and one Corporal position to make things easier.
- Arion has been offered the position of Corporal on the basis of one completed spar!
- Beloved has been offered the position of Soldier!
- Albrecht has been promoted to Impersonator!
- Johnny and Eldala have tasks awaiting them!
- Cassius has been offered the position of Disciple, and may accompany Frost Fyre on her journey to the other wise ones!

If anyone has any questions IC or OOC, please let me know! Hotaru is always open for threads. And don't forget you can count this thread for points in the SEASONAL CONTEST!

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::Strong like the sea is stormy::

Please only tag starting posts, spars, and threads collecting dust!
Plot with me here!

Deimos the Reaper Posts: 527
Deceased atk: 7.0 | def: 12 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1 :: 7 HP: 72.5 | Buff: NUMB

Deimos the Reaper
You can't take back the cards you've dealt on this 
long and lonely road to hell
the throne must be such a sad and lonely place

  Some are rankled, some are tired, some are defeated, some are optimistic, and some simply didn’t care. The Reaper watched them all as they swiveled in and out of sight, as they wandered from one hill to another, as they approached closer than they’d been to their home in months’ time. He looked at their faces, as his son proffered himself (and the ghost of a smile lay unbidden, trapped between different times and different places – he wanted to reach out to the boy and console him, confide in him, protect and shield, but it wasn’t the time or the moment, caught in the din of sedition and tempests), as they wept, as they stared, as they made bestowals that would either reign supreme or become more empty promises. He looked curiously at the gift granted to him by Aisling's companion, staring at it profoundly, until his hoof dragged it closer and he gave her a bob of his skull; acceptance of a present he likely didn't deserve. Then the King fought the urge to roll his eyes at Albrecht, for being head provocateur and irritant hadn’t been a title they yearned to represent, but Hotaru dealt with his antics and left the quiet, impassive monarch to settle his eyes upon Beloved and her blades, nodding once in satisfaction (that she take up the mantle of sword and flesh, that she be able to tear apart enemies still left in the midst and mist). Perhaps they had a chance – his cold, unyielding stare twisted from one occupant to the next, wondering which would rise, which would fall, and which would bend to the will of the mountains and summits. A single proclamation bounded from his lips, for Hotaru had said all that was required, and he was left to beckon the discarded souls, the cold, knotted, gnarled essences, back into the summits, the peaks, the valleys, in hopes that they’d be able to conquer the vanquishing acts they’d laid upon themselves. “The Basin will become what you wish to make of it.” If the emptiness continued, then the residents would only have their own felled aspirations to blame – listlessness and lethargy never built temples, castles, or convictions. But if they managed to overcome, to seize glory, power, condemnation again, they’d be unstoppable, behemoths of the present, dominant forces and fiends charging from their pinnacles and rising from the ashes; ice-forged phoenixes reincarnating from rubble and ruin.

Photo and Table by Time
Photo taken at Hero's Square in Budapest, Hungary

[Just tying things up! :3]

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