Though Darkness Lays [Open]

the Rift

Though Darkness Lays [Open]

Paladin the Valiant Posts: 153

Deceased

Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 hh :: 15 Years Buff: DANCE

Tamme

#10

03-03-2013, 01:01 AM

I WANT TO FEEL THE PAIN AND THE BITTER TASTE
OF THE BLOOD ON MY LIPS AGAIN</style>

Paladin watched his daughters below, ears flattened against his skull as his muscles ached to join the fight. However, he stood, trapped between herd and family in the only safe location - apart from the battle. The Valiant then turned his crimson gaze to a distant hillside, and he narrowed his eyes as a shimmering light of gold hit is mind. Gold? Curious and also slightly wary of the numbers gathering there, Paladin's muscular and fit figure easily pushed forward, cresting the hill to meet Mirage, Aaron and others he barely recognized. Quietly, he listened for a moment, hearing the strange grey pinto with the blue eyes say something about fighting no matter what.

Perhaps in his youth, the Valiant would have raised arms in agreement with that statement, but with age came wisdom. The Foothills had long lived in lethargy, and his hope in the King of Thieves had failed. War was an honorable way to gain land, and he knew his daughters well enough to know that this was not the battle that had come prepared to fight; he had taught them too well for that. Did they not praise Jackal for beating in combat the former leader of the Foothills? How was this any different? The most worthy opponent whose skill and prowess in battle should win the honor of defending the herd.

A warrior at heart, the Valiant had lived by this creed from birth. The creed of war had urged him to battle Gossamer for her title when the sleepy Foothills had grown sickly, and now, outsiders had realized that the beautiful land of rolling hills was truly asleep. How could they be faulted? Paladin shook his head at the young stallion who ran into war with barely any history to back up his heart, no claim to the land or how it moved his soul. The Valiant would have fought for the Foothills had he felt claim to them, but he had given up his right to lead long ago - when he allowed the election of the Triumvirate. Paladin was still lost as to why that failed so badly - perhaps the freedom of elections was too new and innovative or perhaps he was just a fool.

Finally, and with a heavy sigh, the older warrior looked between those who had gathered, smiling kindly and Xanthos. The scars that kept his mane cropped short and skated down his shoulders and over his eyes told of his experience with war. The tome of his biography was dripping with blood. "Greetings," he murmured. "I... While I do not desire my words be taken the wrong way, and though I am but a warrior with a few years of wisdom to back my claims..." he began.

"War is tragic, but the true tragedy here is that the Foothills are still unable to hold their own. When the Foothills was weak, I challenged for leadership, and Jackal did the same. Now, after a long period of quiet, outsiders have realized this fact. As a warrior, I cannot fault them for claiming rights to a land that I have claimed through the same process." Paladin shook his head a little, a frown on his lips. Then, he furrowed his brows. Where was Jackal?

The stallion quickly turned his head, nostrils quivering as he tried to find the scent. Then, his gaze narrowed. "When the lead does not even show up on the day of battle, what hope is there?" Paladin grit his teeth together, anger rising against the Jackal. The Storyteller had put such faith in the spotted stallion, and now, he cast that faith into the dirt. He grit his teeth. "May Silverline forgive you, Jackal, for I cannot." Paladin then turned his gaze back to those who had gathered, his heart heavy.

"My apologies if my words fell on unwelcome ears, but I cannot watch the land I believed to flourish fall without the leader here to fight. This is not a war. Without a leader to rally even the smallest of numbers, this is just... a skirmish." Paladin's disappointment hung on his strong, broad shoulders before his gaze landed on a pale and dark dotted figure trotting along the sidelines. He recognized him to be the leader of the former Edge and he furrowed his brows.

"What is Mauja doing here?" he asked.