the Rift


[OPEN] who needs friends? [ thieves, scholars, interested parties]

Illynx the GildedBlade Posts: 413
Hidden Account atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 3
Mare :: Unicorn :: 16hh :: 13 HP: 67.5 | Buff: ENDURE
Kyst :: Common Griffon :: Zapping Jab Bunnie
#1
Illynx
Plans had wriggled their dark little fingers into her brain a long while ago, but as with all her devious plotting, time was necessary, the adequate growth of the seeds taking both minutes and much contemplation; one such plan was in flower, and so with a hopeful expression adorning her pretty features, the Gilded Blade began to let them enact themselves. The graceful bay mare swept from her moss hung cavern and made her way upon dancing hooves at an easy trot to the small knoll at the fore of the lake, where she had seen Psyche address the herd not too long after Illynx had returned home for her wanderings. She paused when she arrived, letting her golden gaze sweep across the horizon, her mind slipping into a quiet homage to whatever God had led her to this point in her life. It was more than likely not the Moon Goddess, the divine being that had watched over her as she had grown into a woman, the being who had cast her to the stones only to be reassembled by the Lord Time, and while she should perhaps owe him more fealty for his assistance in their time of need, Illynx found that her heart still held a hollow that desired only to be filled with the admiration of her childhood deity.

Unlikely, considering the chaos they had brought down to her beloved mutts as of recent events.

Still, ever present since the lady had returned to her throne, the stars watched the solitary warrior, reminding her that there were wounds upon her soul that would never heal. Illynx, never one to be set back by the trembling of her own heart, secretly shoved the thoughts away, looking from the heavens back to her home, the peaceful, misty light filling the Basin from the nearly full moon settling her further on her path to lead them into greatness. But, as the proverb says, one must look before they leap; unfortunately for their war parties, both Illynx and Psyche had rushed in blindly, without enough allies. Her aggravation at those who failed to show their faces only deepened as she called out to those who she desired near her for this meeting, though she felt assured that the General would sort them out in his own... ever so gentle ways. "Sneaks, scholars!" came the shout, following a short trumpet into the air, not demanding but certainly insistent in its tone that those she called would do well to come, simply because they were requested but also because she felt that the potential rewards were well worth their time.

And so she waited, a solitary figure in the moonlight, for the toy soldiers to hear out her ploy.

[ OOC: Setting this post invasion and pre-challenge from Confutatis. :P Basically, we're looking for some IC scout teams to go and meet/collect data on the various groups across Helovia that the Plague/Basin is unaware of. ]
if I only could make a deal with God.
Magic/assault allowed to be used on Illynx at any time, in so far as it does not kill or seriously maim her without my permission. 

d'Artagnan the Nightshade Posts: 364
Aurora Basin General atk: 6 | def: 9 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17hh :: 12 HP: 68.5 | Buff: ENDURE
Aramis :: Common Hellhound :: Hellfire & Superspeed imi
#2

Born with a void hard to destroy with love or hope
Built with a heart, broken from the start

Beautiful cold mountains! Far better than the glaring orange of the south and the Nightshade had eagerly stepped his hooves in the soft snows of the Frosteppe Breathe as even in Frostfall’s retreat and Birdsongs rise did the cold still reign in the far north. Stubborn land, d’Artagnan was becoming rather fond of it. Perhaps the mists of the west were still dear to him, but the anger of losing that land was numb, there were more important things on his mind now. Like Kou and his sons. He trekked hard across the Steppe, his body warmed through and nostrils expanding by the time he reached the familiar narrow path that lead into the Basin, cloven hooves carefully picking his way down the rocky slope before finally he reached hard floor of his home and dropped to a halt. For a few moments he gazed, noting the odd outline of unicorns here and there, scents of those whom he stood side by side with. Aramis bounded forwards, yapping whilst his pointed tail flashed rapidly back and forth, his hell born partner seemed quite joyous to be home. Yet, claws skidded against the solid surface of the ground, claws that were nestled in tense paws. A simmering anger that was well concealed, d’Artagnan understood the way in which his bonded’s legs trembled, a task unfinished that required the fatal seal of blood.

Purposely, he set off at a walk again, expression set into a grim outline as eyes brooding and dark, perhaps only the tense way his body seemed to move suggesting an internal anger. The Time Mender and his hound guard marched forwards, past trees and toadstools, past the early blossoming fireflies who danced colours and prepared themselves for summer. It was then he heard a voice, a vaguely familiar female one and he altered his path to follow the sound, eventually finding Illynx stood inches from the lakes embrace. The Mender stopped, hellhound dropping to his haunches beside his forelegs, and tilted his head in strained amusement. "Old men?" He asked wryly of the newly promoted leader, who he didn’t really know all that well and spoke to her like he’d speak to any other horse. d’Artagnan was never really fond of authority figures, even if he was being a hypocrite.

Sneaks, scholars. That’s who this meeting was for, the Nightshade was both and neither, a Time Mender meant to heal injuries. Though most of the time he preferred inflicting them. An expert in poison, none of this frilly star gazing scholars liked to do and questioning their very own existence. The fact was d’Artagnan wasn’t really sure he wanted to be in this company, but he had a problem, a problem that needed to be solved. The pickpockets and dreamers might have the answer.

He waited to see who else would show up, before saying anything more.


and now I die slow

[Image: arttablekrazie.png]
painting by krazie

my heart’s an endless winter
              filled with rage

Use force at your own peril ;) please tag me!

Roland Posts: 230
Aurora Basin Phantom atk: 7.5 | def: 10 | dam: 2.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16 hh :: 8 yrs HP: 60.0 | Buff: NOVICE
Glo
#3



Fatigue was drawing Roland towards his cave for the night when he heard the Lady’s call echo across the lake towards him. He had been standing by the water’s edge, tracing the pattern of shattered moonlight falling across uneven slate and glassy water, listening to the wind sing through every hollow in the rocks, whistling a mournful tune as it swept across the flat valley and sent soft waves rippling across the smooth surface of the lake. The reflection of stars rippled across its surface, distorting his reflection in the dark pool as he heard a familiar voice calling out for sneaks and scholars, and Roland responded as the former.

One could only assume she was calling upon them for some task, some duty to assign to them, and lately Roland had been thirsting for a way to avoid drowning in the monotonous cadence of his existence. If he could put himself to work perhaps it could take his mind off the darkness and the cold, and replace the self pity swirling toxically in his mind with a pleasant feeling of self worth. So he answered, turning away from his cave and towards the familiar sound of Illynx’s voice, stepping warily through the inky darkness and watching his shadow move beside him, sketched out by the light of the moon shining on his opposite side.

It wasn’t a far walk towards her; he merely followed the bank of the lake, water lapping at his hooves and surging rhythmically against the icy bank. It was a peaceful night, all things considered, and as time drew on the Impersonator was growing more and more accustomed to the idea of a permanent darkness. The sun was but a distant memory now, fading, yet warm, like what little he recalled of his mother. And he didn’t expect to get either back. Voices reached him across the water and he glanced up, squinting through the darkness. His eyes came to rest upon a pair of figures standing, shadow swathed, against a backdrop of stars.

He approached them silently, his arrival announced only by the sound of his hooves thudding against the soft ground. There was just the three of them for now, a trio bathed in soft moonlight by the lakeside. Roland drew up beside D’artagnan, nodding politely towards the Time Mender before fixing Illynx with an expectant look. “Hello, my Lady,” he murmured into the still air, feeling awkwardly formal when there had once been a time when he had not practiced such courtesies. Why, he remembered berating her once for speaking ill of a member of the Grey to his face. How the times had changed.


Push your luck if it makes you a promise
that turns con men honest.

Image Credit


Huyana Posts: 83
Aurora Basin Scholar
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15 hands :: 7 years Buff: NOVICE
Krazie
#4
Sneaks, scholars!

The call danced across darkness and snow, reaching the ears of the sterling roan as she grazed peacefully on lush spring forage. She raised her head, holding it tensely upright as she mulled over the words. The voice which she harked was feminine and unfamiliar—would it be wise to heed it? An ear flicked backward doubtfully, blades of grass drifting from the corners of her lips as she mulled over this.

Against her better judgement, cloven hooves clipped off toward the sound.

The slender form slipped through moonlight; a mercury goddess swimming through the gloom, a silver fish swimming through dark water. She proceeded silently, occasionally glancing up at the astral dome above her and wondering if the sun would ever return, if they were truly as forsaken as she had deemed them to be. The gods' abandonment did not surprise her—their departure had been spoken of in whispers, the fabled words scrawled across their scorched shrines like sloppy apologies. Huyana was a cynic; she had been proven again and again that the divine never kept their bargains.

Already, there was a small gathering heeding this call; the bloodred doctor she knew of only dimly, a handsome copper-colored stag, and of course, the lady who had summoned them all—a robust bay, gold upon her brow and illuminating her limbs in the pale moonlight. Huyana tilted her head, studying the strange mare as she drew to a halt close to the others; the gilded bay certainly bore an air of authority—but what was the meaning of this conclave? What could the gilded warrior possibly want with the Basin's intellectuals? The roan snorted, a plume of pale breath purling from her nostrils; she stood in a silence colder than the winter around them.

Illynx the GildedBlade Posts: 413
Hidden Account atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 3
Mare :: Unicorn :: 16hh :: 13 HP: 67.5 | Buff: ENDURE
Kyst :: Common Griffon :: Zapping Jab Bunnie
#5
Illynx
The Nightshade arrived first, a face she was not expecting to come to her call, though in retrospect, watching the proven stallion approach, she should have foreseen his arrival. It was his family that she had bled for at the Edge, and that reason alone meant that, perhaps, he had more reason to be standing here than she did herself. At his heels, Aramis trailed, the hound a sight that still set her teeth to grinding against one another; it was not that the dogs were not loyal to their masters (surely, Aramis would die for D'artagnan, as would Imogen for Lena), but that her herd-mates had chosen to so blatantly display a weak point to be exploited made her wonder what her "friends" were thinking.

And then she remembered Zaffre, her jaw loosing it's edge. Perhaps companions weren't such a weakness, after all.

"Old men?" replied the doctor, and the Lady's giggles ruptured forth from darkened lips in amusement. If D'artagnan was old, so was she, and that was just the most ludicrous thing she had heard since learning that the Qian had set fire to the trees in the Edge. "Ah, am I but a nag, then?" she chortled, her golden gaze crinkling with humor even as a second set of arriving hooves drew her eyes away from the devious doctor.

Coated in copper and rather handsome, immediate recognition of Roland set her heart onto a mild ledge and left it wobbling loosely in the breeze. She smiled kindly at his approach despite her inner turmoil over the last encounter she had shared with the stallion, knowing full and well that he had seen her at her most childish; yet at the same time, she reasoned, it was who she was. Had Osiris been a member of her lost herd in the Edge, he would have been equally ridiculed by her - such was the case when one was the bastard offspring of the noble (pfft) equine and a wild animal. She wouldn't stomach it upon the Basin or anywhere around her, and she certainly wasn't going to be falsely kind to a freak such as that thing for the sake of a contract. She returned Roland's greeting with a courteous nod, her lips still softly grinning, even as the final arrival to her notice slipped in along the edges without a word.

The dark faced, blue tinted mare was a stranger to Illynx but for a slender memory that she had come from the land of Isilme and had been a member of their horned harem for quite some time. There was no name to give her within her mind, however, and that made the rather full-of-herself unicorn hesitate as she let her eyes land upon the leonine mare, her seamless smile fraying along the edges, letting it droop only the slightest bit before it returned to full vibrancy. Utilized as she scanned the gathering one last time, the grin hid away her inner rage at the fact that so few of the shadow-walkers and knowledge gatherers had come to her call. Where in the Moon were they? All but Faelene held no excuses for their absence, and a silent curse is tossed out to Ruka for never being there when she desired him.

She clears her throat delicately, glancing along the horizon to ensure that no stragglers would interrupt her with their tardiness before elaborating on why she had called them all to her side. "As you may or may not know, I am Illynx, successor to Mauja the Frostheart, though by no means do I claim to replace him -" she paused, unsure of the truth of her words even as she spoke them, "either way, I find that the Basin has grown ignorant of much that occurs outside of our borders. I seek to remedy this." Her eyes swept around the small group once more, landing with a bit more seriousness upon the face of Roland; she would not have him writing off her words in remembrance of her bared ass on the beach so many months ago, and, in all honesty, she found the shining male rather perfect for this particular task. "I wish to send out a small unit of scouts to investigate the whole of Helovia for any new allies or enemies that may be found, as well as to gather more intelligence on the state of the standing herds. I was hoping for a larger response, but, well," she sighed softly, her smile flickering in the hesitation, "I allege that we four can accomplish this well enough."

Surely, she hoped, surveying them all with eyes that saw their strength and beauty, unsure, however, of how this would ultimately play out and whether they would learn anything of use at all. Either way, it was better than growing fat and complacent on a snowy hill. "Should any of you know any others who would be useful in these tasks, drag them with you when we go. As it stands now, two pairs of two, to better ensure our success and safety; any ideas are welcome to my ears, should you have them." With so many dragons and their desert sisters riled in anger towards the Basin, it was best to lean heavily of the sturdier side of the fence. Her ears were raised forward in attentiveness, looking from each face to the next in turn.
if I only could make a deal with God.
Magic/assault allowed to be used on Illynx at any time, in so far as it does not kill or seriously maim her without my permission. 


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