the Rift


[OPEN] This is why I don't want kids - [HERD QUEST]

Wessex Posts: 149
Aurora Basin Haruspex atk: 5.0 | def: 8.5 | dam: 7.5
Mare :: Unicorn :: 16.3 hh :: 3 HP: 68 | Buff: NOVICE
Astor
#1
for there are many ways to kill a man they say
If you know where to look, the squealing and excited yips of wolf pups are hard to miss. The Basin pack may excel at blending in with the mountains, keeping quiet when the horses are near and keeping their fangs out of their foals’’s flesh (though there are no young at the moment, which is also a decent reason for the wolves to hunt elsewhere - easier prey), but their newly born offspring are not quite as disciplined. The young fuzzballs are all about playing with each other, pouncing on anything that moves and establishing dominance amongst their siblings. The high-pitched sounds of yelps, barks, and various other sounds echo across the silent ridges, drawing Wessex in.

The simple fact that she is able to get close enough to see distinct, rambunctious shapes tells her that the pups are not well-guarded. An adult dozes in the sunshine, ears occasionally flicking around at a particularly loud yelp, but otherwise their watcher is unobservant. And she, herbivore that she is, rouses no alarm, despite the fact that her scent has surely wafted towards the babysitter by now. The pups’ minder is in fact, an older sibling who has been left behind while the rest of the pack hunts the high fields for caribou and other larger prey - after all, they have many more mouths to feed right now. Perhaps if their older sibling would open his eyes and look around, he might change his mind about Wessex and herd the tumbling rascals into the den - but he is awfully indignant about being left behind, and so chooses to take a nap instead of taking his job seriously.

Wessex has yet to reveal her newly acquired accessories to any in the herd, studiously avoiding the center and opting to take her much needed Hot Springs soak in the dead of night. Then, she disappears into the mountains to nurse her battle wounds and learn how to move her tail without constantly slashing at her hocks. ‘Cause the first couple of times, it stung like a seriously obnoxious paper cut, and we all know those aren’t fun.

Half-obscured behind a cluster of evergreen trees, the prickly mare watches the wolf pups with a keen, observant eye, trying to keep the group of five straight. Three of them seem to be constantly antagonizing each other, nipping and tugging at various body parts, then lunging at each other and rolling around in the dirt. One naps, following the elder sibling’s example. The last pup, however, is straying from the den, up the mountain, following an invisible, rambling trail to god knows where.

Wandering wolf pup, thy name is trouble.
I am Iron and I Forge Myself


Herd Quest post to protect wolf pups! Anyone is welcome
AHHHH IVE BEEN DYING TO USE THESE TABLES FOR SO LONG, thank you @Reli  <3
-- please tag in all posts! --
-- magic and force allowed, no death or permanent damage --

Rhodoc Posts: 24
Aurora Basin Stallion
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16 hands :: 4 years
felix
#2
I can't really tell you how the wolves got into it.

What matters now is that life in the Basin has been faring well. Really well. I'm meeting new faces, finding time in my days to disappear three, four times to the hot springs for a soak, and best of all, I'm getting to lie.

Well, scratch that. It's not really lying that I'm doing. I'm just leaving out some truths. See, when you're the new guy, you get asked lots of questions; the most popular is "what brings you here?". It's said in a nice, curious way with pricked ears. And believe me, I don't mind the personal question (because it is personal) I just don't feel compelled to tell them the truth. This is where the lying comes in.

So, when I get that lovely "what brings you here?" I tip my head back, put on my most flattering smirk, shake out my blue-frost tipped mane and tell them I've come solely for a change in scenery. And then I inwardly laugh with myself, because I know this is the furthest thing from the truth: there's a reason I'm here.

I'm here and I sort of want to get high. And luckily, I know just the man to seek out for such an exciting foray: Mr. Mortuus Nox. So I'm stepping with purpose today, on a mission, hooves gleaming blue and meeting the earth with a determination I haven't felt in a minute.

Only Mortuus is making himself scarce, which really sucks because I've been meaning to ask him more about that soldier job he spoke of when we first met. Weaver is nowhere in sight, either, which is a disappointment for entirely other reasons. I'm sort of just aimlessly wandering the Basin now, holding my head up and letting my hips swing with what I pretend to be purpose.

And then, there's a clamor near. A high-pitched, gods-awful clamor whose source I immediately task myself with seeking out because ew. Before I know it, I'm coming upon a thick veil of evergreens, and I push myself into it. The barking get louder, to my utter disapproval, and I peer through the vert needles to find a tiny clan of baby wolves writhing all over the ground.

There's also a woman, her coat snow and ash, her body pierced with a plethora of horns or spikes or whatever. She must be a Basiner because she smells like the mountains, and my lips melt into a grin as I approach her from her left flank, coming up to join her in her watching. "Babysitting the dogs, are you?" I muse, turning my violet gaze onto the gathering of pups. There's one particularly adventurous one, who's now taking off up the ascent of the mountain. "How long before that one falls, do you think? I'm betting a whole minute." A generous bet. I keep my eyes on the pup, curious to see how this plays out.
art © sky

@Wessex lmao Rhodoc's here to (maybe) save the day
[Image: Rhodoc_pixel1.png]
Please tag me in all posts!
Magic/violence cool whenever.

Rikyn the Puppeteer Posts: 549
Aurora Basin Lord atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 4 HP: 70 | Buff: SWIFT
Duir :: Royal Cerndyr :: Earth Spirit Bunnie
#3


Their children will learn to hope for a Caesar.


Unlike most of these flaming idiots, I know what happens when wolves go hungry, and start to look at little boys like snacks. Some pack or another had, after all, been decimated in my youth, having made the rather foolish decision to attack a herd of well trained, warrior unicorns in their desperation. It had gone exactly as one would think it would: five wolves to ten soldiers, and five soldiers got new cloaks.

Still, the panicked flight alongside Erebos and Aithniel to the safety of a cavern, my mother’s armored figure at the mouth, eagerly awaiting something to come close enough for her to skewer it, had lingered in my memory. The first time my heart had throbbed in my chest as if it was going to burst, and the first I’d ever met the potential of death, the image of wolves is almost synonymous to me with danger. It certainly hadn’t helped that the Wolf God had broken my ribs, and killed others before my very eyes, expounding that childhood fear into an adult phobia that was hard to shake.

Out here trying to avoid my thoughts and herd members alike, the curse of having to deal with something strikes again, as the sound of a wolf den strewn with babes catches my attention. Duir bolts out away, immediately of the fuck this mind set, and though I have a similar apprehension, I also know that we have to do what the Time God says…even if I think it’s suicidal, and moronic. It would be more so to, you know, defy the being who controls the very weave of existence in which you exist.

Even the sight of the pups makes my stomach turn, an ear moving back for the sound of the pack. Not like I’d hear a moose gallivanting towards us, or anything, with all the cajoling of the wolf cubs, and as a voice joins the cluster-fuck of noise, I groan, and move to find the idiots trying to lure the beasts back.

It’s Wessex, and some guy. I manage to not sigh, because they can see me, but really, I’m over this meeting people shit. I’d gotten used to living out in the wilderness, where it was me and Duir, and maybe Mordecai or some other person. One at a time, so that things weren’t cluttered with courtesies and other social bullshit – but now? I’m lucky to make it to the lake without someone to stop me about something. And, sure, I picked this encounter myself, but still, what’s with all the faces I don’t know around this place? I bitterly think, following their eyes towards the stray bitch.

"You just gonna let it wander off and die? I bet the pack won’t like that much, and we’re all close enough to catch the blame," I inquire and state with a subtle mutter, trying to remain inconspicuous and quiet as possible (and not like I’m afraid of how many adult wolves are about to lunge through the trees for our throats), looking at Wessex with a raised brow a characteristic smirk, "I for one don’t want to get mauled by a pissed off wolf mother, and some people seem to think my magic is too abrasive, or I’d just make the little fur-puff to turn its ass back around."

Looking at the violet tinted man, vaguely reminded of the night, I nod hello, realizing I should probably introduce myself.

"Lord Rikyn, the Puppeteer," I greet him, looking towards Wessex with a grin that is somewhat a grimace (I'd rather carry on with my day and let the pup die, if it weren't for the numerous consequences ranging from wolf bites to annihilation by a God), "and as much as I like betting and the idea of one less fleabag in our realm, the Time God bid us to protect the stupid wolves. What's your plan, Corporal Mutant?"




@Wessex @Rhodoc

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Force/violence is allowed to be used on Rikyn permitted it does not permanently maim or kill him (PM me!).

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
#4

He hadn’t forgotten about the herd quest – tangling and immersing themselves into packs of wolves, into discovering their whereabouts, their habits, their movements – because a portion of it still felt like his father, always protecting, always guarding, always trying to come up with a solution to their broken, cracked dilemmas. In between sparring, patrolling, and training, however, the idea of witnessing the beasts had faltered off to the sidelines – and while he should have been hesitant at the idea, because wolves had chased them as children (and he’d spied, from the safety of their cavern, as his father and the rest of the herd had slain them one by one), curiosity and determination took a more enduring turn in his mind.
 
If he ever wanted to be a predator, a carnivore, a dangerous, meticulous machine, then who better to observe?
 
Some fellow inhabitants of the herd had beaten him to the inclination – he followed the line of their shadows as they pressed into hidden wares and furtive outlooks, tilting his head vaguely, muffling a quiet chuckle at Rikyn’s arrival, listening to Orsino’s proclamations through their bond. Over there, he indicated with the length of his nose, and the General’s eyes shifted subtly to the cubs rolling, playing, much like they’d done as youths, hardly mindful of the world around them, gangly and green, ridiculous and idiotic. Not much has changed, came Orsino’s cool response, and Erebos refrained from rolling his eyes, but had no argument behind his teeth, forging on ahead with silent Enyo on his heels (her eyes were rounded, her claws were extended, and it looked like she would’ve enjoying playing with them too, but they had to focus on the task at hand).
 
He slipped beside Rikyn with a haughty, mischievous smile, a fiendish whisper “Ah, just like old times,” and nodding briefly to the newcomer (a dark colored stallion), and Wessex, extending his greetings, despite the oddity of the hour, for the stranger. “Erebos, General of the Basin,” with a quick, nearly Cheshire grin, before listening in on the rest of the conversation, on what to do about the little one traipsing much too far away from its babysitter, intending to be helpful and courteous instead of chiding and mocking. “Could we send one of our companions out to occupy it? Maybe lead it back to the den?” He felt Orsino hiss within their bond, and a rush of amusement lit the warrior’s core, completely intending to volunteer the asinine kitsune for the task.


OOC;; ---
TAG;; @[ ]


image credits
- table by Niki -

NPC Posts: 298
User-based Random Event
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
#5
Something must be done, The Elders said.

Lightning lit up the sky, the clouds shook, and strange runes appeared out of nowhere, a guard said.

Thor is upset, came the rumors, whispered first amongst the Council, and then slowly permeated through the caverns until each and every troll-child knew what had happened.

He must be appeased with a sacrifice, was the consensus.

What better sacrifice than to offer him a child of Fenrir? clamored the Warriors.

And so it was decided, that the fiercest of the Trolls would arm themselves and venture out into the world to capture a wolf, bring it back to their halls, and let its blood run across the altar of Thor.

Three set out; the King’s champion, his son, and a promising young shield-maiden who was known as the fastest in all the kingdom. Round and sturdy, covered in hair, girded in leather, and bearing iron weapons, they strolled out into the world and after adjusting to the daylight, set out on their quest.

It was’t long before they began to track the wolf pack, waiting, biding their time - for this was a larger, healthy group, and it would be foolish to risk their wrath. Finally, the adults left to chase prey, and the the group saw their chance! But wait! the son gestured, for she had spotted the group of giant horses not too far away.

The shield maiden waived his concerns away, sure of her speed and ability to lasso the singular adult. Eager to prove herself, she began to sneak down the mountain, giving the other two Trolls no option but to follow. She was right about one thing - she seems to move abnormally quick for such small legs. Darting from outcrop to outcrop, she made her way towards the den, catching the attention of the curious pup. But no, they cannot take a child - that is too easy.

They bypass the fearless pup as it wiggles its way up a crumbly, narrow ledge - ropes in hand, ready to ensnare the sleeping watcher’s snout and paws.

--------------------------

Oh no! Trolls are getting ready to steal the sleeping babysitter AND there's a pup in a precarious position. Whatever shall they do against these fearsome Troll Warriors while the rest of the pack is far away, hunting elk?

Who knows what kind of magic these strange bipeds might have - and look at those weapons! They're only slightly outnumbered, but boy - they are fast.





Other herd members are still welcome to join!

Wessex Posts: 149
Aurora Basin Haruspex atk: 5.0 | def: 8.5 | dam: 7.5
Mare :: Unicorn :: 16.3 hh :: 3 HP: 68 | Buff: NOVICE
Astor
#6
for there are many ways to kill a man they say
Alright, assholes, let’s allllllll gather around the only one who’s doing something and offer sarcastic, remarkably unhelpful advice. The new guy has an excuse because he’s, well, new. But Rikyn is just as likely to get a whack from her dino tail as he is to be ignored. Like a child. Erebos just gets lumped in by sheer luck.

Now, Wessex has never seen Rhodoc before, but it’s not likely that he got all the way to the other side of the Basin without anyone noticing him, and he smells a bit like the rest of them, so she’s willing to let the fact that he’s a complete stranger slide. For now. She retorts in low tones, sarcasm dripping from her tongue in great, viscous globs. “Well you know, the God says jump and some of us ask ‘how high?’ And then the smart ones just go ahead and fucking jump. So… yes. Dogsitting. The glamorous life of a Basin soldier.” It’s turned from Blood, Sweat, and Tears to blood, sweat, and babysitting. She wrenches her gaze from the pups to the horned stallion and gives him a good once-over. “Who are you?”

She would have been most content to banter about with the violet-eyed stranger, but the fun just had to be ruined by Rikyn. Sans Duir, he comes without answers, solutions, or even a helpful, magicless hint, and once again, she finds herself wondering how he is worthy of his title.  Orange-yellow eyes narrow a fraction when she glances his way, and then back to the wandering pup. She then takes measure of the skies, and there are no predators wheeling about, eager to snatch the rogue. Only its own sense of adventure and mischief get in its way – but they are correct, time is ticking. Luckily, she spots Erebos on Rikyn’s heels, and all she throws at his is a quick admonishment. “Try acting like a Lord, Rikyn, instead of a brat who’s forced to do some chore he doesn’t like.”

And then the General is there, and Wessex is all business again, looking at the three stallions and then back to the pups. “I was going to wrangle it all the old-fashioned way, but I think Erebos is right. Can Orsino bring it back down the den safely?”

A flash of movement in the left corner of her eye causes Wessex to whip her head around and focus on the blurs that can be seen between the rock piles. “Do you all see – “ three distinct, quickly moving figures, and all of them heading for the den. A flash of metal. Straight trajectory. There is no more time to delay! “Erebos – pups. Rikyn and – you – with me. Those things.” The Corporal has absolutely no idea what they’re up against, but she knows a weapon when she sees one, and the God has specifically said to protect them. Here goes nothing. Trying to avoid the other pups as best she can, Wessex springs from the coverage in the trees and aims to intercept the trolls, head of horns lowered and at the ready. Again, she finds herself thankful she had the inclination to put on her armor before she left the cave this morning. Cause there’s a hell of a lot that can go wrong…

I am Iron and I Forge Myself


@Rhodoc  @Rikyn @Erebos
-- please tag in all posts! --
-- magic and force allowed, no death or permanent damage --

Rhodoc Posts: 24
Aurora Basin Stallion
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16 hands :: 4 years
felix
#7
I keep my gaze on the wandering wolf-kid, anticipating the inevitable slip-up that comes with being young and stupid and canine. By now, I've completely forgotten about the other wolves near the den but hey I've got a bet going and they're definitely not my problem. My ears swivel to catch the pierced woman's retorting, and a smirk twists its way onto my expression. Dogsitting. This is what I've got to look forward to.

"Rhodoc," I offer when she asks, swishing my tail. I'm about to ask her name when the sound of approaching hooves drags my attention away from both her and the pup. The first to show is another stallion with a bright streak in his mane and a spiraling horn. "You just gonna let it wander off and die?" Well, actually, yes.

Killjoy introduces himself as Lord Rikyn, and I do my best to put on a good face. He says something about the Time God bidding us to protect the mutts, and I interject with a "Yeah? Well the Time God can suck my—" This is when the second stallion comes strolling in, just in time to toss in his name: Erebos. I flicker my purple gaze between the two and a grin tugs at the corners of my lips. "Rhodoc, gentlemen. It's a real pleasure," I manage just before there's a rush of movement appearing from the corner of my eye. The dappled woman sees it, too, because she's already alerting the rest of us and making orders.

At first, I'm sort of just looking at these weird creatures sideways because what the fuck are they and why do I have to be involved. But before I have the chance to opt out, the greyish mare flings herself forward and rushes the armed creatures. And I'm supposed to follow her.

So, we're saving the goddamn dogs.

And although I'm probably extremely unqualified for the job - did you hear? I'm in the presence of generals and corporals and lords - I do what she says. There's no time for anything else. Those things seem to want the wolves, for whatever reason. So I rear back and then push myself after the Corporal, hooves thundering against the earth as I near the small clan of whatevers.

I keep my horn low in defense - not because I'm eager to save the wolves' lives but for my own protection. These things are quick, and they look like they pack a punch. Wrong place, wrong time, Rhodoc. Should've just stayed in the hot spring.
art © sky

@Rikyn @Erebos @Wessex
[Image: Rhodoc_pixel1.png]
Please tag me in all posts!
Magic/violence cool whenever.

Rikyn the Puppeteer Posts: 549
Aurora Basin Lord atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 4 HP: 70 | Buff: SWIFT
Duir :: Royal Cerndyr :: Earth Spirit Bunnie
#8


Their children will learn to hope for a Caesar.


“Yeah? Well the Time God can suck my --” says the violet haired guy, making my eyebrows shoot up into my forelock with surprise.

"Your what? Entire existence and whatever memories you’ve left behind back into the abyss? Probably," I nod, "wouldn’t test him though. He is a God after all."

Of course, the amusement writ across my face is short lived, because Wessex has to say something characteristically shrew-like. Both my ears immediately pin, and my golden eyes vehemently swivel in her direction, narrowed into slits. A hot snort of anger escapes my lungs as Erebos stops alongside me, and I glance at him with the most cheerful expression of greeting I can muster (considering I’m feeling like I’m about to cut a bitch) before again rounding my attentions on the Corporal. Rhodoc’s introduction is barely given room before I retort to being called a brat.

"Women, always demanding people be someone they’re not. Take some of your own medicine and quit being such a raving bitch all the time," I retort, with a roll of my eyes, "some of us aren’t constantly growing extra horns in our ass."

Looking at the pup again when Wessex agrees with my blade brother’s idea, and suggests Orsino, I glance at Erebos with a knowing smirk, and chuckle.

"Orsino? You trying to frighten the dog to death?" I laugh, making the first steps towards the pup, "keep the sitter off of me and I’ll just go…"

I’m cut short, however, by the sudden call to arms. Pulling back around, and narrowing my sights in on one of the attacking trolls, this is a goal I can agree to work towards, even if it means saving wolves, too. The thought of this many of these horrible, club wielding bi-pedals about the Basin was enough incentive to put my hooves to motion, and without hesitation, I join the Corporal and Rhodoc in the assault.

Reaching out at the one with the secondary magic I had just worked to improve, I let the idiot creature have the synapse destroying blast without a second thought, hoping that, if it doesn’t completely fry his simple brain, it at least leaves the whole thing aching, and riddled with migraines for the next week.

This was my mountain, my home, and they would quickly find themselves evicted.

[ OOC: Uses his secondary magic on one of the beasties. ]


@Rhodoc @Wessex @Erebos

Wishlist - Plots

Force/violence is allowed to be used on Rikyn permitted it does not permanently maim or kill him (PM me!).

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
#9
B e l o v e d


Hearing voices, she’s roused from the dark confines of her cave, unaware just how close she has chosen to dwell to the wolves. Slinking towards the shouts and clamors, the white witch arrives upon the same scene described in a dozen ways above; unlike the rest, however, she is rather delighted with this turn of events, and with a gleeful hoot of deranged laughter, she leaps into the foray.

Not overly cautious for the wolf pups or their guardian, unafraid of anything, too lunatic and driven by the raucous ensuing about her, Beloved strides swiftly to the center of the clearing, her war cry wild and shrill, as she brandishes her blade towards the trolls (or snarling wolves, whichever assail her first). She will move to aid the General if need be, but, mostly, does as she will, which is swiftly unfurl her banners of violence, her pale teeth clattering on open air when they do not find purchase on some being or another.

"Beloved will play!" she proclaims, laughing giddily with delight at the mayhem and bloodshed around her.






The ball fell in my hand, it sang
in the closed fist: Open Open
Behold a gift designed to kill.



Image & Table by Me
Quote from Keith Douglas' How to Kill
Tag Beloved, please!

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

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
#10

  He resisted another temptation to snort or chide the constant bickering between Wessex and Rikyn (because the latter couldn’t resist a scathing, ridiculous remark ever and the former seemed intent on giving him a taste of his own medicine), ignoring them entirely, nodding at Rhodoc, and forgoing the asinine retorts for a narrowing of his eyes, a speculation on the horizon. The pup was the first alarming notion; dangling and shuffling its way near a precarious ledge, completely unaware of the delicacy of its situation (Orsino then muttered something about morons, and Erebos didn't feel a single shred of remorse as his command sent the kitsune on his way).
 
But then there was something else entirely - a shift in movement and motion, a hunt, a predatory sweeping of feet and limbs, gnashing teeth, fiendish claws, and he watched as nasty cretins and creatures appeared from the shadows, launching by the wolf child and Orsino’s snapping teeth, straight towards the slumbering babysitter.
 
Wessex barked out her commands, and he didn’t bristle, didn’t gawk, at the one being directed and ordered; perhaps she thought clearer, could make out more distinctions than the rest of them, or knew that the roots of violence had begun to creep through his mind, lash, rip, tear, an ensnaring depth of provocation and annihilation, that clarity was far from his carnivorous, rapacious intentions. She kept him rooted, segmented on the child and other little beasts, so he didn’t frown as he stalked forward, yearning to turn amidst the others into bloodshed and glory, longing to merely delve into the streamline of death and desecration, to sear his horn into their sides, to unravel violence, to picture enemies obliterated instead of mere trolls. It would’ve been so much easier to unfurl, to uncoil, to destroy; it was what he was meant to do – but a more persistent task had been tossed to him, and like the noble, valorous, honorable cretin he always pretended to be, he adhered to it.
 
While Orsino’s ivories reached towards the pup’s extra fur along the cuff of his neck, the General intended to stalk and protect, looming beside the sable, kitsune figure and his echoing hisses (Get over here, idiot spat in some fox language) like a shield, like a guardian, rigid and gallant, listening to Enyo’s beak clicking and claws ticking over stone, eyes once again turned solely to battle, to prominence, to mayhem. Wonder and conjecture appealed to him too, churned along his mind with an eerie sense of satisfaction, combing through those wicked webs, those deceitful airs, those specious gallows; pondering over the length of his invocations and enchantments. So, as he stared at the trolls and their vile ways and methods, he implored and motivated his own – reaching, plucking, down into the conniving sway of his enchantments, pouring them out in a silent, slinking crawl, intending for them to reach, to scatter, to dive and harpoon over the nefarious inhabitants with pain and agony, an unwinding misery, an unrelenting viciousness, spiraling over their thoughts, their motions, their corrupted vessels.




OOC;;  [While Orsino attempts to take hold of the cub and tug him away from the ledge, Erebos stands guard and tries to hit the trolls (from a fair distance), with his dark corruption magic.]
TAG;; @[ ]


image credits
- table by Niki -

NPC Posts: 298
User-based Random Event
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
#11
What mad, hell-horses are these? the son thinks to himself as he utters harsh, guttural words to his father and the maid, falling back in an act of valor that will be sung about in years to come. Quickly, he reaches into a little pouch tied to this belt and yanks it off, opening the contents and dumping them into a grubby hand. With another foreceful word, he tosses the powder into the air and as it falls around him, he seems to grow, becoming twice the size he was before. Everything he touches grows with him, until his face is level with the Basiner’s heads as they barrel down on him.

By now, the commotion has stirred the teenage sitter and it rises, snarling a fierce warning to… well, literally everyone; those nosy, often dangerous horses that inhabit the valley below (off limits for hunting, generally), and the remaining pair of trolls as they zip towards him, no more than quick little blurs. It’s amazing, really, how quickly their stubby little legs can move!

The much-larger son swings his single-sided axe in an arc, warning the first multi-horned thing that comes barreling towards him. But his size has given him a disadvantage, and he is unaccustomed to the weight of his body, which slows his reflexes. Tsk, tsk – looks like the boy didn’t pay close enough attention in magic class. Unlike his cool-headed father, the son begins to panic, flailing about in an attempt to hit one of the three hell-beasts that come towards him: spiked, winged, and giggling madly. Clumsily, he fights, until the edge of something dark and painful sends a chill through his body and stops him in his tracks.

As for the other two, Champion and maiden,  Rikyn’s mind-magic hits the warrior like a freight train, sending him tripping over his own feet, hands clutching his head as it is riddled with spears of pain. He blindly runs away from the melee, vision filled with stars and darkness, until he can feel the agony begin to ebb, where he collapses, by a tree stump. The maiden, however, is extraordinarily lucky and really, quite deserving of her fame. The sitter barely has time to react before a rope loop yanks his mouth shut, and then his paws pulled out from underneath him. There is some solace, however, in the fact that the maiden cannot tie rope as fast as she can run.

--------------------------------
@Bunnie  I assumed you meant the upgraded magic, so went with that!

The Son almost doubles in size and tries to fight Wessex, Rhodoc, and Beloved, before getting hit by the edge of Erebos’s magic.

The Champion is out of commission, done in by Rikyn’s magic – silly man.

The Maiden has caught the sitter, but now must tie him up.



@Rhodoc  
@Rikyn  
@Erebos  
@Beloved  
Apologies for the delay! Just needed to find some muse ^_^

Wessex Posts: 149
Aurora Basin Haruspex atk: 5.0 | def: 8.5 | dam: 7.5
Mare :: Unicorn :: 16.3 hh :: 3 HP: 68 | Buff: NOVICE
Astor
#12
for there are many ways to kill a man they say
In good faith or not, she trusts that the rest of the Basiners will at least follow the gist of her orders as Wessex the tank barrels towards the troll. As he grows, however, she slows down, and tries to circle around him instead, very wary of the axe he now wields. She wonders if Rhodoc would be better suited to dive-bombing it or some other sort of attack from above, given the slowness (compared to earlier) it now displays. “Rhodoc! she yells to her newest acquaintance, “can you attack from above? Be careful, don't want you disemboweled!” The second part is meant to be funny, but it’s entirely possible he does not subscribe to her type of humor. The threat of being sliced from groin to chest is real, as is the thread of being decapitated, or losing a limb to the blade.

As for Beloved, Wessex isn’t even sure she should try to coordinate something with the crazy woman, but it just seems… mean (or negligent, perhaps) not too. She is Wessex’s soldier, after all. “Beloved, be fast!” she yells in direction, though The Corporal is sure that much is evident to the soldier.

Wessex, herself, continues to look for an opening, something big and clear, in order to move her body within striking range without worrying about bleeding to death. Unaware of Erebos’s magic flying around, she sees the troll freeze and begin to shudder, and does not hesitate; in she darts, and to one side, using the spikes on her tail in a whip-like fashion,  swinging it out, and then in again, aiming for his ankles with her dangerous tips. She means to cripple the beast, cut that very important tendon which keeps him upright.

With any luck, she thinks, he’ll topple forward, on to his own blade.

I am Iron and I Forge Myself
-- please tag in all posts! --
-- magic and force allowed, no death or permanent damage --

Rikyn the Puppeteer Posts: 549
Aurora Basin Lord atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 4 HP: 70 | Buff: SWIFT
Duir :: Royal Cerndyr :: Earth Spirit Bunnie
#13


Their children will learn to hope for a Caesar.


"That’s right, you run!" I tauntingly call out, before I laugh loudly as the seemingly oldest of the ugly trolls bolts as his head receives the full blast of my Time tempered magic. However, I’m aware enough of the rest of the situation to not pause to unleash my amusement; there are still two other weird things ahoof, after all, but it’s still funny to watch the warrior creature scuttle off, clutching his head. Understanding somewhat better at this particular moment why it is the creepy white mare never stops giggling, I silence the sound at that… unsettling thought.

I don’t want to understand anything about that woman. Besides, the yip of a wolf being tossed over on its side meets my ears, and even Duir’s emotional tether to mind roars with outrage at the troll’s audacity. Dropping the tempting thought of running down and slaughtering the fleeing troll, or leaping into the foray against the now massive one (like what the fuck sorta big), I instead turn my focus on the female, using her stubby fingers to tie the ropes about the sitter’s paws. An herbivore, I don’t really know what such a binding entails for the poor thing if the maiden succeeds, but my guts tell me that I don’t need to find out.

What's it like to watch your death slowly make its way towards your magically paralyzed body? I think to myself, with a dark smirk.

Sometimes you scare me, Duir replies.

"Hey, Two-Legs No-Hooves," I call out to the ugly bitch, reaching out with my primary magic, to grab hold of her consciousness, and bid her to wait there, motionless, while I close the distance between us with slow steps; even if the magic misses, I’m fast, and plan on using that to my advantage, for sure. Good luck getting up in time to avoid my horn. "Eat this!"

I can't use this magic and move at more than a crawl at the same time, but, luckily, it seems to have a lingering period after I recall my spark from their minds. Bounding forward with my front hooves pulled into a point as soon as I either drop my command over her or simply surge forward (should the magic have failed), my neck tucked and horn angled for the demise of the stupid creature, I hope to drive my entire weight into her, before skewering her at least a few times with my horn, but am also prepared to adjust my strategy should I miss… even if it means I take a troll strike or two.

Just not the face, please.

[ OOC: Yeah or the face would work fine he'll just have to get over it ]

:: [ Magic: DarkxSpark | Ability to manipulate electrical currents in the nerve system to control victim's bodies ]
:: [ Restrictions | Requires intense concentration, and only lasts for one attack or defense with the inability for mind control; lasts up to one post outside battle ]

Wishlist - Plots

Force/violence is allowed to be used on Rikyn permitted it does not permanently maim or kill him (PM me!).

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
#14

  The General embraced the chaos, the mayhem, the outcry of bedlam like an old friend. There was naught else in his mind - it crooned and washed over his senses, fed into his rancor, his bitterness, bleeding into any valor or gallantry left in his fortitude; the prince spun into intoxicating, alluring wiles and heedless, reckless abandon, like a scythe, like a blade, like a cutlass. The notions were sharp and distinct, a running, conniving opus, an acidic ruthlessness clawing over his insides, and he laughed, laughed, when the troll was hit by his invocations – wished for more, a piece of slaughter, a rhythm of death, and thought of nothing else but reaching for the stars and sending them all into oblivion.
 
You’ve got this, he muttered to Orsino, indicating the pup, and before the kitsune could hiss in protest, Erebos was a blue spark, an infernal flame, scorching after his blood brother as they chased down their next, intended victim. A weight of glory and triumph pulsed through his chest, vicious and gnarled, a zest of humor tossed into the undulating muscles and unfurling, nefarious strides, because he’d always enjoyed fighting by his kin’s side – utterly amused by the fervor of violence, born into its threads, into its grasp, into its hold – the Reaper’s son in the flesh.
 
Rikyn’s movements and enchantments seemed pressed into the void – he could feel the snapping gestures, the frenetic fissures, and swayed, bent, his movements to hopefully avoid the onslaught. He reached out instead, barreling down by the troll’s shoulders, or anywhere he could truly unleash his sword – brandishing the length of his lacerating horn with a fire-tipped edge (infusing it with that burning, seething flare, wanting to hear agony, to pick them apart, to witness them flicker into ash and dust), intending to sear, to broil, to sever her limb from limb (for amusement, for diversion, because somewhere this had become a cruel, vindictive game, and he hadn’t played in so long) with embers and infernos, with heartlessness and savagery.



OOC;;   [Follows after Rikyn to slay the Maiden troll. Leaves Orsino to deal with the pup. Tries to slash at her with his horn (with fire magic embedded) and stay out of Rikyn’s way.]

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