A day had passed since her meeting with the assassins leader, Ignita, and her acceptance into the group and now knowing the task at hand she had wandered away from the impressive ice arch and out onto icy plains. The cold still bothered her, and stepping from the arch she had felt the cold air coil around her - not that it had not been cold in the arch itself, but it was at least a little warmer than the open. But she had carried on her path, determined not to let a little thing like temperature stop her.
The filly was a dark mark against the white of the ice, her chocolate coat not blending with the environment at all. But she did not care if she were spotted - if there was even anyone out here to spot her out here. She wasn't trying to hide, and her body was not built for sneaking around anyway. Ice clung to the feathering of her hooves as she progressed but much of the land looked the same, except in the distance - that was her destination. While few would choose to live out on the icy plains the rock formations which had began to take shape would offer shelter from the cold.
Even as she passed the first she noticed the temperature rise but a little and soon her eyes set upon a very strange sight indeed - trees. She hadn't expected to find trees out here, but here they wre. Stunted, yes, but alive and around their bases grass grew. She moved over, taking a mouthful and chewing as she lifted her head again, glancing around with bright golden eyes. Was there anybody out here? Maybe not... The little grass there was would not be enough to sustain anyone for a long period of time.
| Outcast atk: 4.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5.5 |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 :: 12 HP: 62.5 | Buff: NOVICE |
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Talbot :: Common Hellhound :: Acid
& Name? :: Caracal :: None
Dingo |
Little time had passed since the meeting of Plague members in the Arch, and since then, Crowley's mind had been hard at work trying to come up with targets and ideas to present to their dear leader. However, many of his selected targets had already been taken care of, much to everyone's delight; so it had been out of sheer determination that the Weaver wandered from the Basin with intentions unknown. The Threshold was always an option, but it was always such a mundane, boring task in the eyes of the brindle. It was needed to grow their numbers, but there was no denying how positively delighted he was when he spotted a figure in the distance.
With a coat of chocolate, the equine held no chance of blending into the scenery. For the most part, she seemed to have no reason for wandering into the Steppe, other than browsing for a snack. But this wasn't Frostfall; surely there were other, more succulent venues for her to stuff her face?
"New to Helovia, are we? What are you doing out here?"
An accented voice curled through the chilly air, followed by a deep, bemused chuckle as the stallion stepped closer and closer to the young filly. Without a horn perched atop her head, she was a hideous thing to behold in the eyes of the Weaver, but he kept his disgust hidden behind a twisted grin. Upon closer inspection, Crowley could see that the mare couldn't be too old. She'd not yet filled out to adulthood, but she wasn't far from it.
Drawing to a stop, the brindle gauged her reaction for a moment, before speaking again. "I'd be careful wandering the Steppe, if I were you..." A fair warning, but for this mare, it might be too late for her. "You never know what you might find."
I've been to the backside of Hell
And I've played with your fear
And enjoyed it well
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The longer she was there the more she became sure that she was unlikely to find anyone; even with the shelter from the winds this place was cold and no one could survive for long. At least the arch was not far from more luscious lands for feeding but this seemed no more than a wasteland. A few trees, a few scraggly bits of grass which somehow toughed the cold, but all in all nothing of interest. Or so she was beginning to believe. She considered turning back, heading toward the warmer lands to the south but in some ways she liked the isolation... She had become so used to being alone, and while she was glad to be part of a band it was also nice to know that somewhere, not too far off, she would be able to find quiet.
He peace, however, was to come to an end and it was a stallion that broke the silence. Her head turned to the sound of his tones and she spotted a dark, brindled creature with dual horns atop his head. Another unicorn - they were all she had seen since her arrival and she could not help wandering if she were in a minority around here. Her golden eyes drank in his form and that twisted smile which caused her stomach to knot. That was not the smile of anyone with good intentions.
"I am new, yes." she admitted to his questioning, flaxen tail snapping lightly at her rump. "I came here in a bid to get to know the area better but, alas, it seems nothing but a wasteland." of course she did not know the unicorns of this place had a reputation for being racist, and the two she had met certainly were not. They were things she might learn in time, however. A smile slipped onto her lips, softer than that of the brute and seemingly genuine although faked. Nothing about this individual made her want to smile, except that she doubted his kind would have no qualms for killing and could be a vital asset to the assassins. Best not to mention that, though.
"You need not worry about me, I am no fool. Now perhaps you can tell me what it is you seek here - you seem surprised enough that I might venture here so I assume this not to be your usual haunt." There was a slightly flirtatious tone to her voice, and she thanked the god of the sun and the goddess of the moon for her talent at pretending she was something she was not. It would not hurt to learn more of the brute, though, before finding a way out of this situation in which she had found herself.
Ulrik the Engineer Posts: 235
| Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 6.5 |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.1 hh :: 11 HP: 69.5 | Buff: ENDURE |
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Kirchoff :: Common Hellhound :: Superspeed
Tamme |
ENGINEERS CREATE THAT WHICH HAS NEVER BEEN
With machines, his charge was hopefully still stuck in the Basin, so he felt safe enough to venture out farther into the snow, looking, waiting, observing. Nature was the ultimate architect, and he was her student. Not a single fulcrum of a mountain or leaf tilting on the wind escaped his wild and mad gaze, and his cloven hooves carried him onward until he was upon a most curious sight. Their voices carried on the breeze to his large, charcoal ears which tilted forward, and his bronze eyes locked onto the pair like a predator. Crowley, a brother he had met in the Plague meeting, stood confronting a nondescript equine bitch.
She deserved no other observation. Her voice, too proper and sour for her meager stature and pathetic lot in life grated on his ears, and the massive, muscular stallion approached like a wold stalking prey, ears flattened against his skull and hate brewing his his wild eyes. A leonine tail flashed against his hocks, and he aimed two, twisted horns at the mare, feeling the desire for blood brewing through his veins. This one had too much personality to be taken slave. Better to rid the world of her filth lest she breed and spawn more hateful creatures.
"You are a fool to not run with your tail tucked between your legs like a good little mare," he growled, voice deep and grating. Ulrik was also a bit of a misogynist, made worse after Psyche left because she decided to screw the leader and get fat with child. The engineer grunted with irritation, the metal wolf whirring soullessly at his heels. He waited, muscles tense and desiring nothing more than an excuse to destroy.
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 |
| Outcast atk: 4.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5.5 |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 :: 12 HP: 62.5 | Buff: NOVICE |
|
Talbot :: Common Hellhound :: Acid
& Name? :: Caracal :: None
Dingo |
Crowley had not been wrong in his assumption that the young equine standing before him was new. Only a fool would venture so close to Basin territory, but there was little chance that this flaxen maned girl knew anything about the unicorns that ruled the snowy tundra of the north. Either she was a very good actor, or she truly thought that this was a wasteland, as she described.
"The grass is mangy here, yes, but the Steppe is far from a wasteland, darling. Perhaps you're just looking in all the wrong places." A smile slipped across the dark mare's lips, softer than his own, but it did not change his demeanor in the slightest. In fact, he began to pace forward when she spoke up again, aiming to pass by her left before twisting about behind her, and walking out on the other side, like a shark circling a helpless swimmer.
The scent of another came upon the wind, this one he knew, yet not terribly well. It was a brother within the Plague, Ulrik if he remembered correctly, artisan of machines, which was only made more obvious when Crowley's eyes found the strange wolf-esque thing trailing along at his heels. Ulrik spoke, his words only strengthening Crowley's own thoughts unspoken, before presenting a deadly horn at the mare.
Putting his focus back on the chocolate mare, Crowley drew to a stop and suppressed a laugh at the entire situation. When he spoke, his words were directed at the youngest of the group. Just like Lana, the Weaver was certain that this nameless equine would be able to provide endless hours of entertainment for his brothers and sisters, until she fell in a blood heap to the icy ground. "I seek nothing here, mare; this is my home, and I do not take kindly to loitering upon my doorstep. Please... why don't you come in for a spell? Stay a while."
I've been to the backside of Hell
And I've played with your fear
And enjoyed it well
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HP: 45
