PANZRAM
Helovia. So far, so good. It’d been a long couple of days filled with nothing but travel, and as of right now Panzram wanted nothing more than to just flop down with the darkness of sleep closing out his vision. Hopefully this little venture wouldn’t be a waste, but it’s not like he had good informants (in fact he hadn’t had any at all). So, here he was, in the middle of some forest without even the slightest knowledge of the place. Nothings tried to kill him yet, that’s a plus for the moment. With a sigh billowing out into the cold air of the –not so luminous- night, Panzram shrugged and stretched out his golden feathered wings. The popping of unused joints sounded out and features of malice played at Panzram’s face. How it really would have been easier to just fly right on into the center of things, but what fun would that be… sure you can see and spot landmarks from the sky, but you can’t actually explore them. Oh well, he’d just have to work those stiff muscles out later.
Panzram withdrew from his scowling façade and placed a more lazy expression on his face as his hooves dragged through the snow-laden soil. His steps were relaxed, hardly hurried. He didn’t exactly have anywhere to be, he kind of wished he did though. A herd wouldn’t be too bad, after all, his ‘old self’ preferred the life with others. Enjoyed it actually, but how could he find it pleasuring now? That way of living had been destroyed, taken away along with everyone he ever once knew. It wouldn’t feel right to just take up space in another’s home, when his old friends and loved ones weren’t around to do so as well. Would it? They weren’t actually ‘his’ friends, they were the old Panzram’s. That didn’t make it okay, but it does give the now Panzram permission to attempt herd life.
The mountains stretched tall, looming over him with their boulders perched precariously on crumbling edges (by the light of a barley peering moon did Panzram notice this). Yet they didn't fall. His golden hooves stilled, ceasing movement and his eyes trailed up the silvery stone walls. The gnarled outcroppings reached out like gruesome fingers, aching to grab on to some mysterious item. Vaguely, Panzram wondered what exactly they could be reaching for. Him, maybe? Or the sky? Were the mountains kind or angry, twisted maniacs? Did they wish to wrap their death-carved digits around his throat and squeeze every last breath out of him? Or were they dreamily reaching for the clouds, craving to be taller, higher, higher than any other?
With a sigh, Panzram rolled his eyes at his self. Or was he crazy, mentally insane and just a little bit off his rocker so that he was giving inanimate, unfeeling objects human emotions? It was a reasonable assumption for his sudden weirdness, perhaps when most of his memory had been taken something had been dislodged or a few wires got crossed. With a shake of his head, he began to press on again, snowflakes sprinkling across his back. No, nothing is wrong with him mentally other than the memory thing. It’s most probably the sudden feeling of lineless that clung to his already heavy, tired body. The thoughts of not being in a heard was just an impossible thing, besides Panzram already felt lonely enough as is. "Alright, that settles it then."
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| Outcast atk: 7 | def: 9.5 | dam: 3.5 |
| Stallion :: Hybrid :: 18.3hh :: 7 Years HP: 63 | Buff: ENDURE |
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Veci :: Plain Boggart :: Suffocate
Dream |
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Hector</style>
Calmness settled over the stallion who had set off from the Dragons Throat to begin duties in the Threshold. The air was cold, but almost refreshing on his pelt that was warm from travel and nose blew out visible puffs of air as wings swooped down and up. The moon was not so bright this night and his figure was almost invisible against the darkness of the sky, though it came as more of a comfort to Hector who was thankful for the cover of the black abyss as he flew. Ears twitched when he caught the woody scent of the Threshold and followed his invisible bonded down to the ground. Veci was unusually quiet on this night, the little boggart had been that way ever since the fight with Gaucho and Hector worried for a while that he had frightened his friend. Upon sensing his orange friend's concern, Veci had proceeded to fill the hybrid with a sense of calm and showed a little more of his usual self. Still, it would play on the soldier's mind until he finally knew what it was that bothered his bonded companion.
Descending carefully, both nose and Veci set to the task of hunting down strangers, their guard on high alert. Mud met his equine hooves first making him wrinkle his nose in distaste as he landed and began to sink into the rotten brown stuff, pulling each hoof out with a squelch. Seeing the Threshold always reminded him of the days when he first came here and he had met Kri for the first time, his current Commander had struck a cord with him that day and now he was her loyal soldier. Ready to jump at the snap of her order and prepared to die in protection of the family he had slowly forged in the Dragons Throat. It was his job now, in the claiming realm, to offer that same opportunity of family to a weary stranger who may just want a new start in life.
That very stranger was soon located and Hector awkwardly trotted through the rough terrain, following the floating presence of Veci as the little ghost lead the way through the trees. It wasn't too long before vibrant fiery eyes set their sights on a stallion who could of very easily have been missed if it wasn't for his almost florescent wings. Hector fell to a halt leaving a respectable distance between them, folding his own flight appendages neatly into his sides, and with a welcoming smile he tilted his liver coloured ears forward, slightly extending his nose with flaring nostrils that took in the unknown stud's scent. "Welcome to Helovia Sir. My name is Hector of the Dragons Throat herd. Who might you be?" He said simply to begin with, falling silent and awaiting the other male to introduce himself.
Veci hovered unseen, slightly in front of Hector, watching the dark pegasus with curious eyes, mind already captivated by the brightness of the wings before him. If the stranger was perceptive enough, he might be able to sense the presence of the mischievous little boggart who had temporarily dropped his brooding thoughts.
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Image Credits
 
• Dragon's Throat Rank Experience: Fortify | Level 3
• Permission given for moderate power play, magical influence and damage at all times
PANZRAM
Step after step, Panzram, the dark stallion with blinding gold accents, carried on. All thoughts of finding a home, finding a herd, finding anyone for that matter, have depleted to nearly nothing. At least for tonight they have, tomorrow would be a different story… hopefully. After the decision of placing himself into a suitable harem had been made, the winged Panzram continued for about a mile or so more before bringing his youngly, overworked appendages to a halt. From what he could remember, it was always hard to get his body into any sort of maximum effort, which could be and is put to blame on that cruel (once upon a time) ruler of Panzram’s long lost life. Stifling a snort of distaste, the ebony brute allowed his cranium to lower towards the snow covered ground until his muzzle was but a few inches above the soft powder.
With golden eyes gleaming by the minimum light of the moon, Panzram searched for any sign of vegetation jutting up out of the slushy, ivory substance. Nothing. Slowly, the new comer to Helovia lifted his skull back up to its primary location. After giving a quick shake of his head, in order to clear his sight of stray strands of purple forlock, Panzram started the sudden sound of crunching snow. Once he’d given up on his search for others of his species, the Pegasus stallion had also foolishly dropped his guard. It was fairly late at evening, Panzram just simply didn’t think anyone was going to be showing their face at this time night.
Interest and curiosity forced the gentle giant to lean closer as to where the alarming sound had come from, bright eyes narrowing for a clear appearance. The stranger was clearly of his race, but never had he seen one of his own with things growing from their heads. Yes, Panzram had been witness to a few unicorns, but for the most part the society that he grew up in had nothing but winged creatures running about. Hope for his earlier plans sparking eagerly about in his disconnected brain, the ebony cloaked stallion took a shy step forward, reliving his out stretched neck of its strange protrusion. Although it was still unclear whether this weird collection of two different species of the horse breed was in fact safe to approach, Panzram took yet another step closer, mystified by the two hooked horns sprouting from hybrids cranium.
“Welcome to Helovia Sir. My name is Hector of the Dragons Throat herd. Who might you be?” Well, he was in fact safe to approach, so that was certainly good because Panzram wished to ask about the other males existence… he wasn’t about to be rude though, he’d just keep that little question for waayyy later. Drawing away from his staring, the dark yet bright colored Pegasus fixated himself on the whole presence of this Hector… but he wasn’t exactly looking at him. Something odd was blocking out a full and clear view of the chestnut hybrid. Deciding to put this little distraction aside for the moment, Panzram, with a smile pulling at his weary facials, gave nod at the others greeting then selflessly gave up his own title. “Why thank you kind fellow, I am called Panzram. It’s a pleasure to be in your company, Hector, I’ve been traveling for many conversationless days and appreciate the chance to talk with you. Want you please tell me more of this herd you call Dragons Throat?” This kind of information was exactly the kind that Panzram had been searching for, and was now longing to hear about. A new life here in Helovia was waiting for him, and how he hoped it would be much better than the once life that he had and could remember.
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Apollo the Merciful Posts: 251
| Outcast atk: 5.0 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5.5 |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.3 :: 11 HP: 63.5 | Buff: NOVICE |
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Zola :: Black Cat :: None
Sparrow |
It was somewhat funny, Apollo had realized, how often he found himself wandering the tight-knit forests of the Threshold. Anymore the painted stallion found himself here, in the forest, instead of in his own herdland... The thought caused him to chuckle, shaking his head slowly in the the most subtle of movements. Each ebonite hoof took the stallion forward through the snow-covered forest, honey-brown eyes lingering and admiring the beauty fo the naked branches of trees. While not as pretty as when they were in full-bloom, Apollo could still appreciate nature for what it was; beautiful.
With great lungfulls of air, the painted stallion continued on his way, the strands of his tail swaying with the light breeze. In his mane, the three blue beads clacked together with every step that he took, and it was that noise alone that accompanied Apollo's movements.
He was in a pleasant mood, which was somewhat rare nowadays... With the cool season of winter came a cool feeling of self-detachment, but as of right now, Apollo felt... At peace, dare he say. The Earth Medic, while rather reknown with the Grey for being a somewhat reclusive and self-depreciating creature, couldn't help but smile. See? He wanted to say, lifting his head up higher in pride, even he could make the most of a given situation.
Still, his self-induced silence, and self-induced solitude couldn't last. Voices drifted through the bare trees, seeming to echo by the frigid air around them, and immediately Apollo paused in his steps, head snapping upwards and ears turning forward at attention. Were there others, about, then? The Earth Medic gave a snort. Perhaps it was a newcomer, seeking a potential new home? Making a quick decision, even if he wasn't needed, Apollo picked back up into a leisurely trot, hoofbeats muffled due to the snow. His eyes scanned the trees, and it took him only a few moments to spot the source of the voices.
Two individuals stood a ways off, each rather unique in their own rights. The Medic's honey-brown eyes lingered on each of their forms, appreciating the two creatures for what they were. The first he truly examined was a dark ebonite stallion, a shade similar to Apollo's own black coat, but the gold accents that adorned him threw the unicorn for a loop. Wings protruded from his shoulders, feathered like many of the Pegasus kind. He was a handsome creature, vibrant colors contrasting sharply to his dark and earthy coat... Idly Apollo wondered where he had come from, for his scent didn't linger of any of the herds. Was he searching for a home?
Then, he turned his gaze to the other. A strange creature, he was, and the overo tilted his head slightly, crystalline horn poised askew. Wings and a horn? Why, Apollo didn't believe he had seen one like him before... No, that wasn't true, for Mesec, the Moon-Son, had both wings and a horn. Interesting. Still, this chestnut stallion smelled of the fiery sands of the Throat. What also tossed the stallion for a loop, was the chestnut stag's choice of companion. Why... This time, Apollo truly hadn't seen anything like it before! How magnificent.
Placing a jovial smile upon his dark lips, amber eyes twinkling in welcome, Apollo stepped forward through the trees. He hoped that it wouldn't make him seem like a stalker, or a creeper... "Sorry for the intrusion, brothers," he said kindly, giving both Hector and Panzram a respectful dip of his head, "I couldn't help but overhear. My name is Apollo; I'm an Earth Medic of the Windtossed Foothills. It's a pleasure to meet your acquaintance." Here, Apollo's head turned towards Panzram, still smiling warmly. "You're new to these parts, then? Welcome to Helovia. If you're searching for a home, I can also offer my herd; the Foothills."
"It's a fine place, with plenty to eat, despite it being Frostfall. Those that reside there are called the Grey, a band of mercenaries that live as a family unit."
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Credits
I Just Want You To Know Who I Am
Please Tag Apollo in All Posts!
| Outcast atk: 7 | def: 9.5 | dam: 3.5 |
| Stallion :: Hybrid :: 18.3hh :: 7 Years HP: 63 | Buff: ENDURE |
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Veci :: Plain Boggart :: Suffocate
Dream |
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Hector</style>
Hector smiled at the charming boys answer who announced his title as Panzram. A name he had not heard before, but a fine sounding one still and the lad seemed more than willing to learn more of the land he had just stepped hoof upon. Veci returned to his orange friend's side, floating off in another direction as if he'd just heard something. The hybrid shrugged when he turned to watch, quickly bringing his gaze back to the florescent winged stallion and picking his mind for the best words to describe his beautiful land. He'd had good and bad times in his past visits to the threshold and the many new horses he had met had been different in shape and personality. Orange pools peered at the stud before him and he wondered what it was he looked for in a herd, what did he want. Strength? Family? Or something else? He wouldn't really know until he answered the kind lad's question, so he dipped his head happy courtesy and parted soft lips.
"A pleasure to be in yours too, Panzram. I hope my company never dulls you. As for the Dragons Throat, we live far to the south of here under a warmer temperature surrounded by the beautiful sea. Our family is made up of many different faces and our armies are notorious. We offer sanctuary, family and protection to all species, if you ever found yourself in need of a place to call home, don't hesitate to ask my friend." He finished off quite happily. Trying to cover all areas of appeal in one simple paragraph of speech and provide the rather tall stallion with information he might need to decide his next path in his life. Hector remembered his own decision from back when he too was a weary traveller in the Threshold, running away from his power mad father and bullying brothers. He had been captivated by Kri that day and returned with her to the dusty Dragons Throat and to this day, he did not regret his decision. The orange boy had met many fine horses since, most recently the rather incredible and interesting prehistoric Gaucho.
Veci finally returned as it seemed their party was not yet complete. For another stepped out from amongst the trees. A unicorn of dark ebony hues and splashes of white, his horn an interesting shade of green and Hector politely returned the courtesy dip with another one of his own. He listened with interest as the paint introduced himself as Apollo and his impressive rank of Medic, the Windtossed Foothills was a place that had been in the news, so to say, recently. Though Hector still didn't know much about them, the only time he had visited was when Paladin the Valiant had stolen him for his own personal messenger. He was, however, happy to finally meet one of the members of a herd that his own family had fought side by side with recently. The painted lad described it as a place of mercenaries and also a family.
Hector smiled and graciously offered a few nice words. "Nice to meet you Apollo. How fares your neck of the woods? I hope the cold weather hasn't caused you any loss."
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Image Credits
• Dragon's Throat Rank Experience: Fortify | Level 3
• Permission given for moderate power play, magical influence and damage at all times
PANZRAM
The longer Panzram stood there looking through the blurring veil that somehow separated himself with his company, Hector, the more distant his fluorescent colored eyes traveled. If the strange thing hadn't up and mysteriously flown off, the ebony cloaked stallion probably wouldn't have been able to tear himself away out of his own will. Once he had given his cranium a quick shaking to draw out all of that weirdness from his facials, Panzram pried his ebony lips apart... but before he was able to ask questions about the presence of the ghostly figure, his for now companion commenced to talking about Dragons Throat, his home and herd. Hector's words were soothing, and for a reason that wasn't exactly known to Panzram, a certain part of him longed for those warm climates and bordering seas.
Rounded, golden eyes softly meeting at a close only to reopen into an imaginary setting of a place rather similar with the environment just described by his hybrid friend. It was so familiar, yet so unfamiliarly loved. The terrain was for the most part barren and had nothing at all to look at with any sort of interest, but as the sun was falling behind it's flat grounds off in the distance, there was a moment of beauty that struck the dark stallion with a pure sensation of bliss. Panzram recalled this little slice of heaven as his birthplace, but at the mention of notorious armies from Hector, everything suddenly took a turn for the worse. There was so much blood, so many dead bodies just lying out there in the boiling heat of the desert. The smell was almost unbearable, and the scene was just horrific.
Panzram couldn't - no he wouldn't ever involve himself with such violence ever again! Even if it were possible...
With a gasp jumping free of his clutched lips, reality washed back over the brightly decorated Pegasus just as the sound of snow crunching below hoof came into range. Giving a quick, suspicious glance at Hector, as to take in his reaction to such a sudden outburst of panic, Panzram shakily turned to meet his second Helovian citizen. While hoping he hadn't embarrassed himself, Panzram fought down the nervousness that was quickly arising within his empty belly and traced his weary eyes over the new stranger. A black painted stallion with white splotches and a randomly colored horn protruding from just above a pair of orange eyes. He certainly didn't waste time with introductions and further detailing of his own place that he called home, Windtossed Foothills. It sounded like a lovely location with much promised vegetation to feed his rumbling belly with, but there were thoughts of worry that plagued his mind about it's frigid climates.
Apollo, as he had named himself, along with the tagging of being an Earth Medic, put up a good enough argument... but Panzram was all to flustered about his fear of war to make any sort of decision at the moment, more questioning was required. "Ahh, why hello, Apollo." Before continuing, Panzram gave his newest acquaintance a friendly smile which was then following by a welcoming dip of his head. "Hmmm, mercenaries you say? I'm not quite sure I'd fit in with you in the Foothills, but then again, I'm not very sure I'll fit in anywhere with fighting." Panzram's body was screaming with protest, it thirsted for the thrill of battle once more, but the time of bloodshed has passed for him and his screeching body. "For what I can lastly remember, I've always been in situations where combat has been required for survival and extinction. Although I would love to give my life in the service of my rulers and fellow herd members, I'm not certain that I'll be able to withstand much more wear an tear." Slowly, the golden feathered brute passed his bright stare around, exchanging looks of understanding with both fellow studs. "I hope you both would still have a place for me within your ranks. If at all possible, I'd rather not be some commoner. I wish to be helpful in anyway that I may."
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Apollo the Merciful Posts: 251
| Outcast atk: 5.0 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5.5 |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.3 :: 11 HP: 63.5 | Buff: NOVICE |
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Zola :: Black Cat :: None
Sparrow |
Apollo was pleased, and relieved, to see both Panzram and Hector not mind his intrusion. If they had, well... The overo would have simply gone on his way, leisurely of course to continue on his stroll. After all, with winter in ripe blossom, there was much to see until the frosty white of the snow grew old and boring to look at. Soon, Apollo's heart would yearn for the warmth and beauty that came with Birdsong, and until then he would cope by trying to meet as many new individuals as he could. Giving a nod, the Medic smiled to himself. Yes, that was a great idea.
Looking to the chestnut hued male, Apollo's smile turned warm and he nodded his head. "Things have been well, thank you. No losses to report, good sir, other than the loss of the warmth and the quick setting of the sun. However, things are rather peaceful now that blumbering outcasts have finally learned just where the herd borders are." Apollo, by no means, had anything against outcats, for he himself used to be one before the Grey had forcibly taken the Foothills. Still... There was a difference between those who had no home respecting the boundaries of a herd, and those who waltzed like idiots right into a herdland. The Assassins were a prime example. Thoughts of the would-be band of killers made the stallion scoff and shake his head, yet only minutely before his mind drifted towards the matter at hand.
The Earth Medic's hooves shifted slightly in the snow, crunching the frozen white powder beneath his weight and creating a rather familiar staccato in the otherwise silent forest. Yes... The beauty of the snow would be lost on him soon, it seemed.
Just then, the golden-clad Pegasus began to speak, showing a familiar uncertainty that Apollo could sympathize with. Ah... He was one of peace then, as well? A gentle soul that had been forced to fight, it seems... Much like Apollo himself. When the Grey had taken the Foothills, he had been internally torn. There was a side of the paint that wanted nothing to do with war or bloodshed, yet he had fought hoof and horn for his family, the Grey. When they emerged victorious, he had dabbled in the arts of medicine, and in turn became an Earth Medic chosen by the Earth God himself. That way, he could help without violence.
"Good Panzram," Apollo began warmly, honey-brown eyes warm and welcoming. His tone was that of a long-lost friend. "The Grey is a group of mercenaries, yes, but not everyone who resides within that family unit is required to fight. We prefer that everyone has a basic knowledge of battle, yes, and perhaps we may spar once or twice to keep fit, but you are free to pick your position. Like myself; I prefer kindness to bloodshed, and I am no soldier. Have I fought and drawn blood in the name of the Grey? Yes, of course, but only to protect my loved ones. Now, I live life as a medic, striving to help those who cannot help themselves. There is nothing wrong with not wanting to fight, just as there is nothing wrong with the militaristic life of a soldier." Here, Apollo paused and dipped his head towards Hector, respect adament on his features. He wouldn't beguile anyone their decision in life... Unless it was the Assassins, of course.
"No matter your choice, if you should chose to accompany Hector or myself, I'm certain that we only wish for the best home for you, Panzram. Homes are a beautiful thing to have, especially when the weather is... Less than satisfactory." A chuckle left Apollo's maw, and he shook his head, the blue beads strung through his mane clacking together. With a flick of his tail, he stood motionless, waiting for the golden-hued stallion to make his decision. Would the Grey be welcoming anothe brother today? Or would Panzram decide to join the noble fury of the Throat?
Regardless, Apollo only wished him luck.
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Credits
I Just Want You To Know Who I Am
Please Tag Apollo in All Posts!
PANZRAM
So here were his choices, both served up on nicely crafted golden platters with holders of welcoming smiles and delights spewing from their trays like a never ending waterfall from heaven. With all of the pros, it was hard to designate which offer held the most cons. The Foothills seemed the most promising, but the Throat was a place where he'd feel the most comfortable. This was such an incredibly huge deal, Panzram was choosing his place of residency here in Helovia. This choice alone could very well make or break his future here. "I'm sorry, but I must beg your pardon on the time I'm spending while making this decision." The dark stallion subconsciously began to shuffle his golden hooves about in the powdery snow below, transforming the beautiful ivory substance into something muddy and ugly. "I trust that I'm not keeping you two gentlemen from anything important..." It was hard to swallow down growing anxiety once the seed had been planted, especially if it's expanding within a very empty stomach. That's just who was now, a worrier.
He didn't wish to keep his acquaintances waiting for far too long, definitely not in this chilly weather when there was a warm shelter back home for the both of them... and maybe even himself. Taking in a deep breath, Panzram closed his big, bright eyes to imagine himself in either environment. The Foothills, the Throat. One a place of flourishing vegetation, the other pretty much explanatory considering it's naming. Amazingly, it felt as if the decision had already been made for him according to past events. Which didn't really seem at all that fair to Hector. He seemed like he was a very good fellow, and Panzram just hated to have to decline his invitation on such inconvenient terms. "Where I once lived is quite the same as what you've described as Dragons Throat, Hector. It saddened me to say this, but for that very reason I must decline your offer." After casting out a sigh of negativity from big, ebony lips, Panzram gave the hybrid a respectful dip of his head. "I hope that there will be no hard feelings between us, it's just I don't think I'd be able to go a single day without remembering a gruesome scene while upon the field of combat. I've come here to escape those memories, not to relive them." With ears twisting back in shame of the weakness that has been just been told of himself, the stallion slowly moved his golden eyes about till they found the black and white paint, Apollo, from behind narrowed lids.
Panzram, back then, was known as a good man for the things that he was capable of doing in war, and even though he would be content with what ever ranking was giving to him in the Grey, he wanted to be a great man. It was easier to rise up in battle, but now everything would be very different (he was different), he'd have to find a new way of being noticed... of being heard. "Whenever your ready." Panzram gave first Apollo then Hector a friendly smile. "I give you my best wishes on your way to the Throat, travel safely my friend." With any luck, the Foothills wouldn't be very far from here, hopefully they'd reach their destination while the sun still cast its light upon the territory and Panzram could meet a few members of the Grey while it was still daytime... and then maybe get some rest. At the very thought of rest, a new weight came crashing down on his shoulders, exhaustion was beginning to catch up with him. He could feel it creeping up his every limb, claiming them then leaving them with nothing but aches and pains in it's terrible wake. Maybe a good rest first, then a visit with his new family. Hmmm, family, that sounds nice.
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