the Rift


Castle Under Siege {Chieftesses, Open}

Ricochet the Incendiary Posts: 133
Deceased
Stallion :: Equine :: 15.2 hands :: 5 years Buff: BULK
Blu
#1

Home. He had finally made it back to the lonely hills that had elected the young stallion as their king and then hung him out to dry. Talk about a fair system of democracy.

The kingdom-less tyrant waded through the stomach high grass, each blade of dried out and yellow barley bowing in his wake. His short, fire-damaged locks of obsidian stood up against the relentless wind like a banner; scorched and torn to pieces, but still defiantly waving its colors. The soldier that carried said banner was just as burnt and ruined, but still he journeyed onwards. The toned and rippling muscles underneath his scarred hide moved in a controlled fluidity that kept in time with his easy jog. His naves expanded and contracted in an even rhythm, and his pale cream neck bulged in a handsome arch. If anything, the scars that now branded his handsome face only made the brute that much more determined, and his memories only hardened his resolve to rid this world of all of its impurities. He had bent to the will of too many insolent beings in the past, and now it was their time to succumb to his wrath.

You had better be prepared, Jackal. Something as inconsequential as bloodlines will not keep me from my throne. You are the enemy as much as every horned and feathered mistake that has dared come into existence.

Ricochet's intent eyes focused their blue gaze on the approaching foothills, his forelegs stretching out ahead and his hinds kicking him into a gallop in frenzied excitement. The summer heat was taking its toll on the charging beast, and his buckskin coat was soon covered in a sheen of sweat. It was a miracle that his long-furred companion had not yet collapsed from the heat himself, but he was a hardy mutt. He would survive, Ricochet was sure.

Each stride sent the stallion deeper and deeper into his tumultuous fervor, and his eyes soon rolled back to reveal their whites with ecstasy. Many moons had passed since the quarter horse had run over these windswept hills, and he was feverish with the exhilaration of coming back to them. How could the witch and her devilish companions have ever dared to banish him from this place? How could he have let himself be run off of these moors, especially in the era of his own reign?

It was ludicrous to even imagine removing a lord from his manor, and yet here he was today; running back to the equines that had taken it from him in the first place.

{OOC: Ricochet has no idea that the Foothills have been overrun, so feel free to just go all crazy on him.}
"Talk."


Archibald the Dauntless Posts: 386
Absent Abyss atk: 6.0 | def: 9.5 | dam: 8
Stallion :: Equine :: 18.3 hh :: 10 years HP: 80 | Buff: SHIELD
Loretta :: Alaskan Malamute :: Time Slip Time
#2

"I chase you out once, watched you run like a coward, do not make me do it again." Archibald's voice boomed out across the land, the rumbling yell surely shaking the spine of the devil itself. In a furious motion the Dauntless, ruthless and cold, strikes the ground with his right forehoof. Underneath him and rolling through the hills before him, the ground trembles at his power. The magic shakes the earth heavily, intending to smack the dunskin into reality and stop his legs from swallowing the Foothills territory with such idiotic fervor. Loretta snarled beside him, each hair on her body standing erect. The anger that spilled from the pair would ring to the ends of Helovia--Ricochet was not welcome here, and if he did not leave peacefully Archibald would dig him a grave.

Moving down the mountainside to close the distance between himself and the arrogant fool, Archibald kept his magic spilling. With each hoofbeat that carried him closer to Ricochet the earth trembled--fearfully or respectfully to be decided by onlookers alone. Archibald was truly blessed by the magic of the Earth God, and it was by Archibald's own heart he would protect these lands he was also blessed with. He had fought for them, and he would not see destruction on the horizon again for the glorious Foothills. "You are not welcome here, Incendiary, leave or die." Archibald's tail lashed against his hind legs as he stopped, Loretta settling beside him with ears flattened and eyes pinned on Guns.

The sun was high overhead, heating the giant's back. He was used to the Tallsun heat that rested over the moors of the land, he had endured them long enough to adjust his body to optimal survival. Now, with narrow golden eyes the General noted the sweat and exhaustion that clung to the pair. His ungallant display of energy surging into this land would all for certain hinder him, should the encounter end in physical dispute.


ARCHIBALD
The world is a scary place
Now that you've woken up the demon in me

Image Credits


Through the ages of time
I've been known for my hate,
but I'm a dealer of simple choices;
for me it's never too late.


please tag me

Tajheri Posts: N/A
Unregistered
:: :: ::
#3
   TAJHERI</style>
  you should have learned by now, i'll burn this whole world down</style>



When the earth trembled the way it did it could only mean one of two things. Either the Earth God was angry or Archibald was angry. Given his common knowledge of the Earth God and his extensive knowledge of his brother Tajheri was bound to assume that Archibald was angry about something. The smokey buckskin stallion's tail flicked against his legs as he looked down at his wolfdog pup who was staring into the distance. His gaze then drifted in the direction his pup was looking and that when he saw his massive brother approaching another stallion. No wonder he was shaking the ground. He had to put on his tough guy act. Slade whined and turned her gaze onto her bonded, her small tail whipping back and forth. Tajheri obliged with a grin and moved into a swift trot that would lead him to his brother in minutes.

He was close enough to hear his brother's words of unwelcome and the threat that went along with it. A surge of adrenaline shot through him at the idea of a fight breaking out. He'd not had a good fight in so long. Even when the invasion happened he'd stayed behind and stood guard over their pathetic prisoners because his other brothers were incompetent when it came to acts of authority and violence.

"Better run." He chimed in as he came to stand beside his brother. He didn't know what the Incendiary, as Archibald had called him, had done, but it had to be bad for Archibald to immediately go into his macho man mode. Even Loretta wanted to eat him alive. A high pitched yip followed by a growl made Tajheri chuckle. Apparently Slade had picked up on Archi's and Loretta's dislike of the buckskin and was feeding off of it in her own way.

"Like my brother said." Tajheri continued on nonchalantly. "Leave. Or stay." He shrugged then. "Your carcass will make for good fertilizer."




Osiris Posts: 88
Hidden Account
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 17.3hh :: 13.
Comadre :: Plain Black Dragon :: Fire Breath Boom Boom!
#4



 osiris</style>                                                      even holding on tight won't save us this time.</style>
image by Massimo Valiani @ flickr.com</style>

Paws tread lightly on the grass that had become his home. Home. It had been a while since the wolf could have claimed a land as his home. The Woodlands of Isilme, their beautiful pillars of trees which reached toward the sky. The soft mossy loam and the smell of darkness which permeated the mystic lands, Osiris would never forget his home. He had fought for it once, and then Roanne had graciously offered him shelter within the great lands once more. Thinking of the trees with their blissful permanence being inhabited by the shadow creatures of the dead shook his heart, but there was nothing they could do. The dead had won the claim upon Isilme.

The living had been forced to leave. In a way, Osiris could understand. The bloodthirsty equids would not cease to stop their hateful ways. They would not stop fighting. They would not stop killing. Isilme, the land of the night and dawn, needed time to heal from the wounds torn into its flesh.

Now, the creature had found a family within Helovia, oddly with the same girl who stumbled upon him in a dark cave as a mere child. Ophelia, Ophelia. So beautiful and pure, yet Osiris sensed a darkness encroaching upon her heart. It did not dwell in his mind with ease, but he figured that life brings about many changes in one being. Should she ever require his assistance to wrestle her demons, he would be there. Otherwise, he would watch over her silently and await for need of his protection, a dear friend.

Now, it was not his family which needed protection but the land itself. His large, canine ears capture the sound of thundering hooves, turning his head to capture the buttermilk boy himself. A dry smirk lost of any humor appears upon the wolf's face, his body turning slowly into a lope toward the one known as Ricochet. Archibald the Dauntless and one he did not recognize arrived first, but the hybrid did not slow. Upon his back, the curled mass of black awakens to the sudden jolt of changed pace, bouncing off of the furred back with a start, catching himself on small leather wings and soaring after his bonded. Comadre.

Leave or die. Osiris arrives and looks rather surprised at Archibald, his eyes wide but he turns in time to listen to the stranger's voice as well. At least he claimed brotherhood to Archibald, though they looked nothing alike. The great wolf comes to a stop beside the large draft of black, opposite Tajheri. "No need to be so hostile," he says with a cool baritone voice, turning his eyes back toward Ricochet. A smile rests on his face.

"What do you want, brat?" the wolf snaps, wanting to know more information of his return rather than just kicking him out of the Foothills. That outcome would happen, but it was more important to discover his motives for returning. "Seeking another game of cat and mouse?"
""

Ascended Helovian

Ophelia the Amaranthine Posts: 701
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16.0 hh :: 6 Years HP: 77 | Buff: BULK
Tinek :: Royal Silver Dragon :: Frost Breath & Shock Breath Tamme
#5

{pre Phi finding out she is pregnant}


Ophelia swiftly made her way to the altercation, the sounds of voices bouncing off the mountains. She shifted on her cloven toes, pushing her slender, pale figure up the crest of a hill and to the origin of the words of anger. The white mare was not surprised to see Archibald or Osiris there, staring into the scarred face of none other than Ricochet. A bay stood there as well, one she did not directly recognize. He stood next to Archibald however, so she assumed the General had recruited him into their ranks.

Indeed Osiris was right to calm the hostilities, but Ophelia could easily understand the anger. Ricochet had attacked her once, what seemed like ages ago. She stared into the dunskin's teal eyes, a frown forming on her lips. Why was he back here? Surely he did not think Jackal was still kind. Did he truly mean to wrest the Foothills from the long lost King of Thieves? The pale mare came to stand between the wolf and the Dauntless, brows furrowed over her intense, dual colored eyes.

"Richocet," she murmured after Osiris asked if he was back for another game of cat and mouse. Her voice was soft and gentle, like chimes - a stark contrast to the other tones promising death and destruction or another embarrassing boot out of the herdlands. "Surely you know that your bitter heart does not belong here. We welcome all kinds, not just yours of equine blood," she explained, disappointed in his choices. Just like her, he was young. How did he end up so blind?

Tinek, angry from the last time Ricochet had tried to injure his bond made, hissed from the back of his throat, opening his toothy maw. Cool, white frost poured from his haws like a cloud, threatening. He landed on Ophelia's crest, staring down at the shorter stallion with intense, bloody eyes. "Bad. Hurt Phi. Tinek rumbled shortly in her head, still not incredibly good at her language.

Bad. Bad not good.

"You find yourself in the same predicament as before and with the same individuals, Ricochet. Archibald, Osiris and I will not hesitate to do the same as we did when you threatened me. You may state your purpose and we may speak civilly, or I will invite you to leave" Ophelia uttered a pleasant metaphor to the fact that she was not afraid to kick him out again.



OPHELIA
Faith shattered and decays as frosted blood flows in my veins

sdrcow @ DA




Undertow has come to take me. Guided by the blazing sun. Look at everything around us. Look at everything we've done.
Please. Anyone. I don't think I can save myself. I'm drowning.


Please tag me in every response!

Ricochet the Incendiary Posts: 133
Deceased
Stallion :: Equine :: 15.2 hands :: 5 years Buff: BULK
Blu
#6


The moving fortress had been a magnificent sight to behold before it had fallen to the siege of the wicked. Dusted brown turrets had flowed with ease over tall stalks of grass that bowed in its wake; its pale golden belly had sailed high above the ground, and blocked out the view of all those souls running with terror beneath it. Ivory banners had stood out magnificently against the clouded blue sky, majestic strands of coal flapping relentlessly in the wind. It had been a proud structure, a force to be reckoned with, and it had been more than capable of withstanding countless armies, but like all great things, it too had its downfall. The sturdy castle had been on its way to reclaim the lands that had been wrested from its clutches, but it was no longer the powerful citadel that it had once been.


The dun-skinned brute continued his fast paced gallop across the windblown fields, his ears snapping forwards at the sound of pounding hooves. At first the tyrant had been expecting to see a welcoming party, or perhaps even his nephew, Jackal, upon his return to the realm, but the sensation of ever-growing tremors traveling up each of his laboring pillars immediately eliminated either of those options. Teal eyes widened in shock as they realized that those tremors -- and the sound of raging voices -- could only mean one thing; surely his nephew wouldn't have let the Dauntless remain in these lands, would he? There was no sense in hoping that the young abomination had been smart enough to reject such a proposal if it were ever to occur for, just as he had expected, Archibald and his little terror, Loretta, intercepted Ricochet's own path of flight, but he was not the only one to meet the buckskin at the border.

A wave of nostalgia washed over the quarter horse as he saw each fiend rise to make their threats, the horrendous wolf-beast that he had been trying to chase out so long ago included. Anxiety began to creep through the stallion as he noticed the hatred that was plain to see on all of their faces, and he wondered momentarily if it had been a smart idea to make a mad dash for home as he had just attempted. Perhaps if his impatience -- or eagerness, more like -- had not have gotten the best of him when conversing with the Foothills' crafter, then this undesired reunion would never have had to happen.

All was not lost, however, because it seemed that wolf-boy and tri-girl were more than capable of keeping their tempers in check, not to mention their play toys. A smirk crept across the tyrant's scarred lips at the thought of the Dauntless as a play thing. He knew full well that he was a dangerous adversary, but the idea of having him as an underling was just too amusing a thought for him to let slide.

Shuffling his feet with impatience as he listened to each of them make their threats, the quarter horse pinned his ears to his cranium and lashed his dark locks across his flank, barely noticing the crouched and hiding form of his gundog as he crept alongside his master. Rage had begun to build inside the brute's belly, threatening to take him over completely and let loose the words that he so desperately wanted to say, so instead the brute spat,

"I may be bitter, but at least I choose to remain loyal to my herd. Where is my nephew? Or did you choose to chase him out, too?" At the sound of the stallion's tone, Guns sat up from his crouched position and snarled at the white canine, adding more menace to the beast's words. With another stamp of his hooves, Ricochet swung his head upwards and stared into the mismatched eyes of the little princess, refusing to say another word until they brought the true ruler of this land before him.

{OOC: Sorry this is so incredibly late, I had zero muse to make this post. x.x I'm also still extremely busy, but I'll try to wrap this up soon.}
"Talk."



HP: 49.5
We want you for the Equine Empire.

Archibald the Dauntless Posts: 386
Absent Abyss atk: 6.0 | def: 9.5 | dam: 8
Stallion :: Equine :: 18.3 hh :: 10 years HP: 80 | Buff: SHIELD
Loretta :: Alaskan Malamute :: Time Slip Time
#7

The earth calms beneath the behemoth as, loyally and dutifully, his brother follows his heels. Archibald is content with Tajheri's threat to Ricochet, and merely wished for the threat to be fulfilled. He would take great pleasure in crushing the dunskin's head beneath his massive hooves. Loretta leaped forward towards Guns, her threat perfect, and she snapped her jaws closed feet away from him. She wanted to taste the cowardice dog's blood just as much as Archibald wanted to taste its master's. Her hackles her standing up and her tail erect domineeringly, her lips raised as she continued to snarl, her amber eyes locked onto the other canine's. Within moments Osiris falls in line and his words try to calm the Dauntless, but Archibald pushes it aside. There is no water that can quench the fire that is the draft's rage.

Following the wolf-hybrid is Ophelia, and Archibald flicks his ears to the Chieftess momentarily before letting them fall pin to his nape once more. Taking a threatening step forward, his bulk a menacing, towering shadow above Ricochet, words spit forth from the Incendiary's mouth. A cruel, twisted smile curls over Archibald's ebon lips and a deep, gruff laughter fills the silence after Ricochet's question. "Your nephew? Ah, Jackal." Archibald takes another step forward, pressing his face closer to Ricochet's.

"Like the rest of those that share your blood, your cowardice nephew has run for the depths of hell. We--the Grey--invaded the Foothills, and your nephew was no where in sight." Archibald's words were snarls now, dark and brooding with malice. His body was tight and his magic threatened to spill forth and claim Ricochet, to make him stand still as stone while the four mercenaries destroy him. Kill him, kill him now. Loretta urged at his side, never removing her eyes from Guns. "I repeat, leave now, or I will place your head on a stake at our borders as a warning to all who dare oppose me."


ARCHIBALD
The world is a scary place
Now that you've woken up the demon in me

Image Credits


Through the ages of time
I've been known for my hate,
but I'm a dealer of simple choices;
for me it's never too late.


please tag me


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