|
|
Post by Kelpie-River on Jan 16, 2021 13:01:00 GMT -6
Misti || Palasa Flamen || Post Three
Misti wanted to snap something back to the horse who challenged her to prove the rumors all by herself; wasn't that what she was trying to do here? But before she had the opportunity to say something unbecoming, she was swept up in the torrent of conversation again. A Kirin - one she didn't recognize at all - spoke to the group in a manner that made her flesh crawl. Not so much because of his scales...Misti was learning to be wary of Kirins, but not all of them could be...dangerous...could they? Had his ascent to the throne been too...speedy? Was it murder? She didn't want to think such things, but despite her support of the monarchy system, she was not in full support of its leader. She could easily be slipped into believing that King Isador was not all that he seemed. As another horse stepped up to speak, these worries were only founded farther.
The idea that King Isador was leaving his citizens to rot made the mare's stomach churn. Could it be possible that the thin veneer he'd placed on the refugee camps was just that? A stopgap to keep people from asking? Well, of course it was possible. For some reason, Misti trusted this mare's anecdote. It seemed foolish to make such accusations if they were baseless, at least in her eyes. She certainly wouldn't have, and that was what she based the character of others on - her own moral scale.
And then the dragon spoke. And her words were cutting, cold and callus. Misti's heart thumped in her chest at the mention of Palasa. She'd heard rumors, but that was before her time there, and so had not paid them much mind. But...if this horse was claiming to have seen it with her own eyes...how could Misti turn away that information? And then, the rant began. The same one Misti had heard at least once or twice before, that always made her roll her eyes. That slaves were a mistreated group as a whole, that a few bad owners here and there quantified letting the entire Aodhian way of life crash to the ground.
"I think we have a different purpose here tonight than debating whether or not our system of living is of value," stated the chestnut coldly. She didn't want to outright say that she supported the slave trade, seeing how gnarly this mare seemed to be; she didn't want to start a fight. But certainly, the uncomfortable topic needed put aside. "We were focusing on King Isador and the new Wyvern, if I remember correctly," she said, looking to the room for support.
WC: 445
|
|
|
|
Post by buffyandbramble on Jan 16, 2021 13:39:16 GMT -6
There was a definitive theme in the pub tonight Lux mused as he sipped quietly on his drink, eyes watching from behind his mask. Chatter was becoming more distinct.... bolder, especially so early on. He might have expected lips to loosen later into the evening as a courtesy of alcohol but already horses were addressing the room, speaking aloud and to ruminate on what they had heard. Ruminate and more.
He was glad he came now, this was fascinating. So many masked and cloaked equines in the room and with no real way of discerning who may or may not be a servant to the King or what would get back to who. It was hardly as if this were a private meeting between known like-minds. He wasn't sure if that made some of these horses brave or stupid. Maybe it was both. It was said that there was a fine line between genius and insanity.
Still, he had to wonder if he'd been particularly lucky with his choice of night to attend, or if it was like this every night.
He shook his head as he listened on, marvelling at some of the things that horses were coming out with. He couldn't help the quiet chuckle that escaped him when the discussion turned to the refugee camps, almost disbelieving that anyone could be surprised to learn of those conditions. He'd never been himself for he saw nothing to gain from doing so, but he'd never entertained the idea that they were pleasant places to be. The horses they housed were desperate, and desperation was never pretty. Was it truly so shocking that horses were starving? That power had gone to the heads of some, and that others were resorting to extreme measures to try and keep any order? Lux had just assumed it was a given factor, but perhaps he was in the minority. Horses had such a tendency to think selectively when the topic turned morally tricky.
He huffed derisively as a mare, a slave, began a spiel. Her disguise was certainly something, and he wondered idly to himself how in the world a slave, a labor slave by the looks of her, could be in possession of anything of value which that illusion surely had to be. A thought for another day though.
"All civilizations are built on lies," he spoke up, a chuckle to his tone. He truly found this mix of horses amusing. "Truth is subjective, depending on who tells it and who hears it." And that wasn't even factoring in thing like Memory Manipulation or the effects of other blessings. There had been horses capable of warping the fabric of reality, a few lies in history books was pittance compared to that. "But say there was an absolute truth? What would be done with it?" he asked hypothetically, staring at his drink as he swirled it in his glass.
WC: 485
Post #2
Notes: Lux is at the bar masked and cloaked, and speaking generally to the room
|
|
reyarpg
Star
- What's sleep?
Posts: 41 
|
Post by reyarpg on Jan 16, 2021 13:52:17 GMT -6
Edenne | Servile Slave | Post Two -
[tags; no one. this is all largely musing and my character's thoughts on what's going on. she is saying nothing of value and does not address anyone. ]
The dainty mare hardly recognized most faces in the room. Living mostly a sheltered life alongside Rosa gave her such a luxury. She didn't recognize the chestnut mare speaking up about the rumors that were flying around Aodh. Just vague references, of course, nothing solid, which was equal parts frustrating and intriguing. She wondered what could be so nerve-wracking as to not state boldly or publicly. Of course, the nuances of the more 'refined' world were lost on her when she wasn't actively entertaining.
Her gaze turned to her mistress as she was the next to speak up. 'You verify them.' Edenne hoped that there would be some form of clarification so she too could be in the loop a bit more. Unless, of course, they were referring to- ah, right. Now some things were coming together.
She'd only heard a little bit about it, in the days following the Dark District. Nothing she was supposed to be too fussed over, of course. That was Rosa's territory, not hers.
Another horse rose to confirm that they share their stories. Edenne could agree to that. She wondered what stories there were to be shared. The Flamen that spoke next, a white unicorn tucked under a cloak and mask, spoke about the conditions of...some refugee camps? Admittedly, Edenne knew very little about them, only hearing about them in passing from Rosa. However, how the unicorn spoke about Isador, their ruler, made it quite clear to Edenne how they felt on the matter; how they felt about him.
The loud stomp of the next conversation partner certainly jolted Edenne out of her thoughts and snapped her to attention. Instinctively, the mare moved her hind quarters just away from Rosa slightly, lest a threat become known and she'd have to kick out. It was a subtle move, though, and hidden underneath her cloak.
The words that the dragon spoke rung all too true for Edenne, who'd seen the life of slaves born in squalor, sent to labor, and never seen again. To a horse that lived the nightmare of a labor slave far too short than most unlucky souls. Edenne herself remembered her mother just...not returning one day.
Still, Edenne shifted uncomfortably. This dragon spoke raw and uncomfortable truths about Aodh, and Edenne was not comfortable facing such a truth. Her life was comfortable. To accept the suffering of others at the cost of her own comfort wasn't an easy decision, but it was one that she'd make in a heartbeat if she had to.
The dragon spoke about history, about Alya and Igna and New Valore. History was lost on her; at least, this intricate history. She was taught basic history for holding basic conversations with nobles per her training. The notion that this was incorrect made her uncomfortable too, and she wished for nothing more than to let these words fall in one ear and out the other.
And yet, they wouldn't.
Another horse spoke; a stallion, and he did have some words of note to say. However, Edenne was once again churning through her thoughts and keeping a keen eye out lest something came up to give her guard.
-- 557 WC
|
|
|
|
Post by floatyy on Jan 16, 2021 13:54:18 GMT -6
Sunny had retreated into a shell, the atmosphere a little too tense for the usually excited mare. Her eyes wandered, focusing on anything but the dragon. She shuffled her hooves, putting her hat back on. Her withers twitched, which shifted down into her shoulders. She didn't bother to stop it, because she was so very anxious. What could she possibly say to add to the conversation? At this point she was simply a bystander, watching. Waiting. Something was bound to happen, someone was bound to snap. The ranting could only be the beginning. She had just come here to mingle, learn, not get caught up in a debate about whether or not these rumors were true!
Her head swiveled to the side as an unidentified equine spoke up. When had he gotten there? No matter. He had a point. "He's... he's right." She said finally, voice a mere squeak in a room full of loud voices. "The... the slaves are treated awfully, y- yes but if our king IS doing what we think he's doing, what could we do? The... there's uh..." Anxiety clutched her chest and she let out a tiny breath, which did nothing to help. "If it's true, there are bigger issues at hand, especially if there's another wyvern. If it isn't, and I guess this also applies to if it is... but if it isn't, and someone catches wind of all of this? All of the... the rumors and what-not, it's- there'll be trouble."
She looked at the Kirin next to her, then up at Misti. She then dragged her gaze around the room, so intimidated by the presence of powerful equines that she was certain she'd faint. She didn't, but she could. The mare had seen many slaves treated so poorly and it hurt her heart. She didn't... NOT support the slave trade, she just wished they were treated with the proper respect. But that was a thought she kept to herself, most of the time. Her tail swished and she finally made herself look at the mare that had disguised her face as a dragon. She couldn't speak, and instead looked back down at the floor. This wasn't her Forte, speaking in front of this many equines about anything that wasn't books or stars.
WC: 380 | Post 4
|
|
|
|
Post by Prismaticlysm on Jan 16, 2021 13:59:00 GMT -6
 Interacting with: Tesana, Delta
The child wondered how long it had been raining. It had been some time he knew, considering how much mud was all over him, but the rain was finally doing its job to get him cleaner. His trio of eyes squinted through the whipping downpour, and he was thankful the weather was at least warm else his thin body would have a harder time than it already was. The mud that caked his limbs made him feel heavier than usual, but at least he wasn't tethered to the cart like he usually would have been.
Today was interesting. Well, at least the later half of the day.
It was the first time in a while he had seen Delta, a mare he had been shipped with by the Onean government. He wanted to ask her about everything he had heard while on their journey, but something held his tongue at bay. Perhaps the bit that numbed his mouth. Perhaps the constant fatigue he felt. Likely both.
Through the rain he heard the tiny chime of bells in his ears. He recognized Lunabelle's voice, his Faerie who was hidden beneath his mane. She had hidden there ages ago when the rain started to fall, and had been pressed against his neck ever since. She sounded annoyed, concerned even. Considering she wasn't nipping his pelt, he reckoned she wasn't upset with him. She never was.
He almost didn't hear the voice beckoning them, and almost didn't catch Delta stopping in time. He managed to halt without slamming into her rump, but he pinned his ears and looked over to a horse whom, at the moment, he didn't recognize. Something about the voice sounded familiar, but the cloak and mask did much to obscure everything else. He noted Delta's movement as she put herself in front of him ever so slightly, which caused him to quirk an ear, but otherwise he said nothing.
The unknown [Tesana], but somehow familiar, mare spoke to them, speaking of what they would be expected to do if things turned sour, though the sound of soup sounded quite wonderful, he had to admit. But he was being naïve.
A few moments later, the duo were following the strange equine of whom Runt was curious of, and found Delta leaning down to speak to him. Right off the bat, the ex-Valkyrie's words had him tensing up. He had never really paid much mind what the citizens of Aodh wore; some looked frilly, others looked practical. But he glanced to the one leading them, and he found himself nodding obediently. Lids slowly slid over his middle eye, the golden orb concealed. There was still a bump there, but at least it was harder to see. Not that the eye was useful for anything, but it was still a part of who he was.
"Yes ma'am." He replied, trying to keep the edge out of his voice.
Keeping close to Delta, but not too close as she requested, the small group finally made it to a building. It was...overwhelming, to say the least. There were many horses inside, most of them wearing similar garb to the one they were tasked with following. Something moved above him, and he looked up in time to see something cascading down Delta's neck. Had he not looked sooner, he might have panicked a bit. But he was aware that she was somewhat special, and although the strange dragon façade unnerved him, he reminded himself of what she had told him moments before. Perhaps this was another way for her to protect him?
They were lead to a table where they were ordered the soup that was promised them, and Runt had to muster every ounce of restraint to keep himself from sucking the contents of the bowl in one gulp. Like Delta, he listened to what was being said around him.
None of it really made much sense though.
Of course, during his time in the Dark District, he heard about some of the history of this herd, but he couldn't find himself caring about the politics of the elite, especially that of the King. His own thoughts started to drown out the chatter about him, feeling Lunabelle slowly stick her head out of his mane and shake whatever water had seeped through and clung to her tiny head.
He looked up to Delta when she passed her unfinished meal towards him, mentioning she lost her appetite. A concerned look crossed his face, but he slowly nodded. He didn't want to make a big deal out of it right, he would just have to ask later what caused it. And when they got back 'home', he'd simply pass his own meal to her to return the gesture.
Only he wasn't too sure that would happen now.
He didn't quite register Delta had gotten up just yet, focused on having a nice, warm meal for a change. He was slurping down the last bit from his bowl when a loud knock caused him to jump, causing a bit of the broth from his soup to spill down his face and splash onto his neck. Eyes wide, he looked over to Delta who was suddenly speaking loud enough for the entire room to hear. Folding his ears back, he murmured to his tiny companion still laying against his neck.
"Stay in there Lunabelle, please!" He whispered harshly. She retorted in annoyance, but ultimately stayed put.
Delta spoke, and Runt just stared at her.
A cold, aching fear flooded through his limbs. How could she be so BOLD saying what she just say to citizens? She was brave, he would give her credit enough for that, for making a stand. But the punishment for speaking as she just did...
960 WordsPost #1 |
|
|
|
Post by iceenights on Jan 16, 2021 15:23:44 GMT -6
  
A L C M E N E
of Aodh
... ...
The room seemed to swiftly turn from careful chatter to roaring conversation within minutes. Conversations that had once been gentle murmurs quickly silencing to listen in on several who addressed the room at large, from several (including her owner momentarily) people who seemed to be very confident in blatantly gathering the attention of the crowd. How foolish and bold. Were they actually trying to get themselves in trouble? Perhaps a death wish? One couldn't really say without knowing the intentions behind it. But it was becoming clear that the topic in the room was dragging several people into it regardless. Rumors. Half truths in a chaotic form of nature. Far more messy than simple white lies. It was just the nature of them as they got passed along. Alk couldn't deny they weren't entertaining in a way though.
At least up until they contained some very uncomfortable information. Such stuff that would tie knots in peoples stomachs when heard. And to be completely honest? They had certainly heard something of note in recent times after that little eavesdropping session of theirs's.
Unsurprisingly what they had in mind pertained to the exact situation that was leaving them on edge. The sent off aodhian refugees. Somewhat different from the camp issue that was mentioned by another in the recent moment, but similar none the less in regards to the situation of Aodhian citizens.
Indeed it undoubtedly concerned Aodhian citizens in a way, and with the recent outburst from what she gambled on was either a very bold slave or passionate commoner; it was only fitting she could follow up and speak in regards to the conversation after there was enough silence to join in. Of course they were being bold in their own way by speaking up being a slave themselves, but they had some logic and concern behind their own words. And... Maybe this would make some of these bastards think of their herd a bit more differently with the problem to consider.
Alk began right after that meek little equine (Sunny) spoke up.
"There are plenty of issues at hoof right now."
A momentary pause before their own rant, one that she considered the consequences of for speaking up as a slave. Who knew if Rosalba would punish her. Take a gamble with the god of Luck. Praise Digend.
"Whoever spoke of this herd's foundation being a lie, you are indeed quite right about the situation inside the walls already having been present. It is frankly; quite hypocritical at the moment that many are concerned about the situation outside this city's walls when the same thing has been inside them for... Probably as long as you damned aodhians have had city owned slave labor."
"With the mention of refugee's and the conditions, lets also get on to the fact of our so interesting king seemingly reluctant to let refugees leave the country for another."
"Whispers through Alya's wind as of late have brought up the fact that throngs of slaves this city owned were released to Serora, but they were let go supposedly a while after they should've been, when ample time had passed. In regards to whatever deal was made."
"That's at least the basics of what I've heard, but with that occurring I hope at least some of the people here have considered the issue that comes from it. The fact that your slave labor - who've been underfed, overworked and kept in horrible conditions for as long as this place has existed - the very literal back bone of this damned herd of yours, is now once again pathetically small and diminished."
"Which if anyone has realized, means that there's a very likely chance anyone who is subjugated will be potentially seized again in the future. And of course with that comes riots on top of several parts of your society falling apart since so many people decide to rely on the abused and downtrodden rather than - doing shit yourselves."
"Of course maybe this wouldn't have been much of an issue if anyone with literal power could consider, maybe paying the poverty ridden of free citizens to do the hard labor in place of slaves. Which would likely solve quite a few problems in some terms. But it hasn't happen for who knows how long, so it would be wise to consider the fact of future riots that'll endanger us all. Both from free and subjugated equine alike."
Alcmene finally silenced herself after her speech turned slightly into a rant of her own. They knew they probably should've held back the venom in certain parts of her words, and maybe tried to keep completely calm. Though she certainly couldn't help themselves from getting at least a little bit riled from her own speech. Which only made them remember their situation and station in this cursed herd.
So with an irritated huff, and a crack of their neck they shut up. Potentially having a few regrets but otherwise are pretty content at the moment.
......
Word Count: 834
Post # 2 |
|
|
|
Post by kajeayn on Jan 16, 2021 16:59:44 GMT -6
= M O I R A =
The fire finds a home in me.
WC: 831| Post 2So many familiar faces! Well, wasn’t this a surprise?
She flashed a small, secret smile at Tate when she spotted him at the bar, inclining her head to the all black kirin nearby him. That was certainly new, and she felt a little flash of comfort at the sight. Ignacio smiled upon his work, clearly. They weren’t hiding either. They didn’t need to. She almost envied them that.
The Flamen turned her head slightly, regarding the room at large, listening as multiple voices spoke up. For a moment, warmth pooled in her chest, listening to the familiar voices. Ignacio truly was here tonight- seeing Him represented by far more Flamines then she could have ever expected to see was a balm for her soul. Things would be all right. As dire as their situation was, she had every faith in her people to push through.
She gave Euonia a tiny smile, making a small gesture for her to stay where she was, and then pushed away from the table.
She moved forward, taking small, quiet steps towards the others who had risen from their seats. She knew most of them- she was pleasantly surprised to see the newest Flamen here, recognizing her from her distinctive voice. She’d only heard her a few times, but Moira spent most of her time listening- she’d long since learned to put voices to memory.
Pyre, of course, was a sight for sore eyes, and she gave the white unicorn a subtle, crinkle eyed smile. She didn’t greet her, choosing to let her keep her anonymity, but the words she spoke broke Moira’s heart. She had spent much time there- hearing the problems only worsened made her stomach turn. She had not been back in so long- it was just too dangerous. And ultimately, useless. All she could offer them was honeyed words and promises of Ignacio’s love, but that did not keep anyone fed.
What could one person do, in the face of such insurmountable despair?
The labor slave who lashed out, all snapping fire and brimstone, made Moira’s chest ache even as her face tightened. She had not been expecting to see any labor slaves tonight, and the sight of her made something unpleasant churn in her gut even as a slow burning fuse sparked to life. She was welcome to her opinion, of course, and she wasn’t even wrong on many of her points.
But she also was not Aodhian, and she did not love this country. For all its flaws.
It was difficult to get her angry, these days, but a slave furiously telling a room just what she thought of their country in her thick, rough Onean accent tested her patience. Moira hated the slave system, the Dark District, the buildings standing on the backs of slaves who had given their lives for this city. This slave couldn’t know that, and Moira would not tell her. None in this room could know her own feelings on slavery.
Misti’s reply made her glance towards her, shooting the fellow Flamen a grateful look.
“My friends.” Moira’s voice was low and soothing, glancing briefly between the speakers and back to the room at large. “Please. There is so much strife and unrest in the city as it is, let us not quarrel here. We all have come for the same reason- we came for truth.” She slammed a dinner plate sized hoof down onto the pub’s flooring, echoing sharply through the quiet.
“Aodh is not perfect. Neither are the War-Forged, the Breimians, the Serorans. If a perfect country exists, I have yet to see it.” She looked around the room, her face solemn. “My friends. I love this country, this city, and this love has blinded so many of us for so long. I have been blinded. I regret it took me so long to see.”
She turned towards the labor slave, and dipped her head.
“My heart breaks for you. Truly. But we must not allow ourselves to fall to squabbling, to distracting ourselves from what we all came here tonight to seek. Truth.” Her hoof came down once more, the sound ricocheting off the walls.
“There will be time to address our other struggles, but only after we have dealt with the most pressing matter- our country is burning. We must put out the fire, only then can our eyes turn to our other tasks. And the first step we must all take together is to discover the truth.” She gazed at them all, and then suddenly smiled, her eyes lingering briefly on the nervous expression of a painted mare.
“Ignacio is here with us. I am not afraid.” She said. “But I have claimed your attention long enough. If we are to tell the truth, I would like to invite someone who has been shown moments of the past, in the Palace itself.”
She bowed her head, stepping back, and hidden behind her luxurious braids, she shot Euonia a quick wink.
(Moira is not masked, and has a cloak with her hood down!)
|
|
|
|
Post by Luneby on Jan 16, 2021 17:05:48 GMT -6
 E U O N I A"Renunciation, total and sweet."
Ever since she walked in, the room had buzzed with gradually incriminating information that even Euonia was not as ready to hear as she would have liked to admit. She was quite surprised to find so many of her fellow Flamines among the crowd, even one that she did not know of yet. She found comfort in witnessing the presence and eloquent words of those equines she looked up to and respected, some of which she called her friends.
She ached with Pyre as the unicorn spoke. While she did not personally witness the immigrant situation outside New Valore’s walls, she was bitterly thinking of how utterly appalling yet unsurprising any of this was. She was thankful for Pyre bringing up undeniable facts that were relevant to the situation and were in Euonia’s opinion the most pressing matter.
The Onean slave did not awake as much sympathy in her, much to her own shame. She hated the sense of horror and guilt the mare’s discourse instilled in her, the words she shot at the crowd while covering her face with a dragon’s image, which Euonia did find quite ironic. There was nothing she hated more than slavery but could not speak of that without the hypocrisy that came with her immense privilege. And yet, she was aware of the extent of its atrocities. She roamed the Dark District and Vatros Sanctum for so long, walked home to glittering Ignis covered in the dirt and blood of the underprivileged more times than she would like to think about. Her mind drifted towards Jessiah at this thought – she instinctively leaned closer to them, wings brushing against their cloak as they fluttered nervously. She did not dare to look at them – as much as she burnt to. She did understand the mare’s anger, and the deeply upsetting nature of her discoveries. But they did not bring anything to the conversation.
Euonia could not be more grateful to Moira for speaking up and bringing silence back into the room, as well as an occasion to bring back a sense of purpose and unity to this meeting. Her wings fluttered in surprise when Moira winked at her and invited her to speak up about her own recent experiences.
She rose silently, scanning the crowd briefly as she quietly braced herself for the discourse she would have to make.
“I couldn’t agree more with Moira on all points. We must remain focused on the most pressing matters and share as much information as we can in the little time that we have in this haven of secrecy. This is no place for conflict or discussing the many flaws our herd shamelessly indulges in, at the cost of its people’s lives. King Isador certainly is the current greatest wall against a change for the better, and should we find factual proof of his power being illegitimate and that of the many ways he abused his position, we might be able to bring something truly huge about, so long as we stay move forward as one.”
She took a brief pause, taking a long breath, grounding herself.
“I am Flamen Euonia, of Oralee Sanctum. About a month ago, strange things happened in my Sanctum: Ghostly lights led our group down Hearthstone Palace, guiding me everyone who attended my sermon that night through visions which depicted events of the past. I do not know where those visions came from and, in the light of the other…uncanny events of supernatural nature that happened within the same time range, I would rather not speculate. However, some of the attendance of that night did appear in those visions and can attest of their veracity.”
“The first vision seemed to take place shortly after King Amadeus’ passing. It depicted Captain Finley … inviting Emin Lilith and her family to stay locked away for their own safety, on the King’s orders. The vision ended with the sound of mourning bells, and rather worrying words on the Captain’s part, implying some of Lilith’s children might disappear “when this is all said and done.”
“The second vision displayed three Chevaliers talking about erasing the memories of an old slave, which they were brutally handling, as they “knew too much” according to them. I cannot really tell what this was about but there was a mention of a doctor right at the end. They were told they were the only one who could save her… whoever that is. ”
“The third vision… Was quite foggy and difficult to decipher. It appears to have been set right after the recent treaty with Serora. It depicted the King and his Advisors, as well as numerous equines we could not see. I believe one of them might have been a Seroran diplomat. While nothing incriminating was said, the King certainly looked terribly upset about this arrangement, which he supposedly agreed to.”
In light of the immigrant crisis, this information certainly was crucial, and she hoped would support Pyre’s claims.
She stopped, and her eyes flickered towards a masked Rosalba, as he felt a surge of pain about even bringing up the topic in front of her of all people.
“Lastly… The fourth vision clearly depicted events of the New Year’s Ball of 1697, which most of you certainly know for the dreadful bloodshed it was. While I did not attend myself, Advisor Azazel did attend, and did not object on the veracity of what was shown to us. Isador was seen nodding at an unknown, pale hippocampus. That same hippocampus then was seen murdering numerous attendees using Ice manipulation, along with the other assassins that were present in the room. Most of you are aware of the tragedy that ensued. Isador did escape completely unharmed, as shown in the vision.”
She fell silent, face shadowed with anguish as she tried to chase the scene that had been freshly branded inside her memory. Weary eyes brushed through the crowd as she cleared her throat.
“As soon as the visions came to an end, some members of the group started spreading what they had seen to the street. Shortly after, Isador came to interrogate me, so I would tell him the names of the people present that night. I did not give away all the names, but I do know that he then went on to interrogate these people as well, and to convince them of the falsehood and danger of those visions the same way he did for me. I’m surprised nothing worse happened yet, but I remain wary.”
She retrieved her seat near Moira and fell silent, watching the reactions of the crowd with withdrawn anxiousness.
***
WC: 1106| Post # 2
[/quote] |
|
|
|
Post by misttheelf on Jan 16, 2021 17:43:50 GMT -6
Caron "Now the Fire and Wind guide me to Freedom."
Post 4 | WC 420
Caron fell silent as their tale of months prior had others speak up. One that wore a cloak and mask spoke of the refugee camps. And then one who wore an illusion of a dragon’s head over their face spoke, and spoke of history.
Their ears focused on one line that the mare spoke. That they all blamed Alya. Caron couldn’t help some electricity that crackled around them at that, though they swiftly pushed that blessing down. Now was certainly not the time to cause a lightning storm. They paused the retort forming on their lips as others spoke, trying to calm tensions, and redirect the conversation back to the rumors surrounding Isador, and the wyvern. They mildly regretted leaving Chiya at this point, the phoenix’s calming notes would have been a great blessing in this conversation.
They listened as Eunia spoke of the visions they had seen.
“Indeed, everyone lower your voices, we keep out of trouble and our choices are doubled.” they spoke their agreement. “The situation is fraught, that much is certain.” they paused, taking a breath, and lowering their hood, deciding to take a massive risk. “My name is Caron. I bear no rank, having been a slave before. You say we all blame Alya.” They glanced at the dragon-faced individual “That is not true, at least not for I. Though, I freely admit I’m quite the exception, in that I worship her in equal regard to Ignacio. I full heartedly agree that those with power must do something. But it is not the king we should rely on to do the work that’s needed for this city to be free. The interrogations sound like things Isador would do, to silence those who know. In fact, he did something quite similar to those who had been in the meeting I made mention of earlier. They were rather fearful of what may happen, should Isador learn that knowledge of that meeting had been shared. So I’m rather inclined to believe that Isador would interrogate and silence those he deems a threat to a throne that should not be his.” They tilted their head, indicating that they’ve spoken their piece at this point, before glancing down at Sunny beside them. “...You need not stay here, if it makes you uncomfortable. Not everyone has nothing to lose like I do. Though know that if you find you need a friend to protect you, I am always willing to help.” They spoke softly to her, in an attempt to comfort.
|
|
|
|
Post by Coffie-Buzz on Jan 16, 2021 19:10:53 GMT -6
Delta
Aodh | Labor Slave
Delta smirked. Most of the ones responding to her were more interested in defending themselves against the point she had made about the Slaves. Typical. Yet they did nothing but prove her point. One mare even went as far to immediately try and change the subject. Her smirk turned into a dark grin, a wicked expression to be seen on the face of a dragon, when another all but challenged the entire room with her own rant. Oh how powerful a mask could make someone. She was impressed. However. It seemed that they would just as easily ignore their own very real fact of their history that she had brought up. She took a calming breath and chose to listen. She had to learn to keep her fire at a gentile blaze and not the inferno that landed her where she was now. Delta turned her gaze to the older mare that addressed her and her nose wrinkled. She wasn’t here for their pity. She didn’t want to be here. Both herself and Runt were brought and had no choice on whether or not they could leave. If she was going to be here, might as well say something. She listened. Listened as the old mare finished speaking, then to the others after her. In the short silence after Flamen Euonia had finished, Delta sighed, “ And you would all argue with that.” As Caron spoke next, Delta squinted, “ Which leads me to think that you were unaware that Aodihans believe Alya slaughtered the Kirin’s out of hatred. When in fact it was the Kirin’s that did the slaughtering, and in not too different of a fashion as Soleil is doing now with her Heralds. Funny how the other Herds all have the same story except yours,” Her voice was even, calm. There was no bite in it like before. She hadn’t meant Caron specifically, but rather the entire Herd. She took another deep breath, “ If a Slave is someone you won’t listen to, then perhaps you’d hear someone with experiences in a real war. You say that your King killed the other one? The child, Amedeus, was it? How is that so hard to believe? Even in Onea we heard that not many were all too fond of the boy. Think of it like a tactician:
Isador wanted the throne and the kid was in his way. People have killed for less. With the kid gone, there was no one stopping him. If what you said about the Captain was true, then he’s got the Chevalier senior staff on his side. That gives him extended power over the people without ever having to say anything. All he needs to do is tell them what the plan is and they find a way to make it work without raising so much suspicion.
Isador would be hesitant to release the Seroran captives because that would mean less Slaves for the City. Less people he can directly control, because God’s know that if he tried to put any of you in chains because he felt like it, the Castle would be torn to the ground.
He’s keeping the refugee camps closest to the city in good condition because he knows that if the public sees what they’re really like, there will be more riots, and another problem for him. The lack of food is also a simple answer. It would mean the City would run low on supplies very quickly. The Heralds have taken a few good chunks of farmland, after all.
The attack on the Ball. Remind me, how many influential members of society were killed again? Seems like all the people who had a chance of getting wise to his plans were sent to a mass grave. Odd, how Isador managed to get away without a scratch. It’s almost like he knew when to leave.
The interrogations were for him to see who he needed to watch and who he needed dead. As a Flamen, you have influence over a large amount of people. If you tell everyone at a Sermon that Ignacio himself showed you visions of Isador ordering the Boy King’s death, they'd quite possibly believe you. What reason do you have to lie? That being said, he knows you won't do it.” She hadn’t used tactical though for a while. But, honestly, it all lined up, “ No one who isn’t born a royal becomes a King over night. It takes years of planning and waiting. I bet any of you my freedom that he’s been working on this for years. And I seriously doubt he started with the boy.” Delta turned to Caron, “ I'm not from this Herd, but I'm with you when you say that Isador shouldn’t be on that throne. It rightfully belongs to a Kirin, and I don’t mean Soleil…. Wasn’t there a Kirin born into the Royal family?”
WC: 833 Post: 2
Delta is addressing the entire room for the most part. |
|
|
|
Post by houndflash on Jan 16, 2021 19:46:01 GMT -6
Tate|Aodh|Smuggler
Whatever Tate had been expecting from this night, this wasn’t it. Obviously the one slave (Delta) was new to their “position” as not even the most outspoken of the equines that Tate had saved were that outspoken, but speaking that passionately spoke of believed truth in their words. Though as interesting as the past of Adoh being a fabrication was, the rumors of the king and his actions was more pressing. Tate gave Shay a side glance before taking a long drink from his glass. “You said you wanted something to happen. Careful what you wish for, kid. There is a backdoor if you wish to leave. Keep your hood raised, if you wish to stay silent. None here will judge your actions either way.” The librarian said, before also standing, nodding at Moria as he stood to speak in turn.
“Perhaps instead of speaking of whom should instead sit on the thrones as a born right or whose god is blamed for actions long before any of our times, maybe we should instead focus on what this means for the future of our actions and silence. Now is the time to look for allies and those willing to take an honest stand. I am another who will assist all with nothing to lose, except a life of my own.”
Post #2 Word count 230
Tate is just wearing a cloak with hood down |
|
|
|
Post by kerarose on Jan 16, 2021 20:18:24 GMT -6
E L I I N A
POST 3 | WC: 564
Eliina's hackles rose at the silver mare's words. She had heard of her- the Northern Valkyrie, one of Hira's chosen who had murdered eighteen before being culled. Pitching her voice lower, and adding some Onean gruffness and accent, she spoke.
"Be careful which words you believe from that one. That's the Northern Dragon- ex-Valkyrie to former War Lord Hira. She killed eighteen in order to retrieve her friend from captivity, and then tried to murder her, too, when they fought." She raised her head high, ears pinned back beneath her cloak. "I'm not saying she's wrong with some of her thinking- indeed, her thoughts run true in some manners. But we should be wary of the words of a convicted killer."
She snorted at the slaves' remarks. "While I appreciate your plight, and do not wish harm to slaves, perhaps we should remain focused on our goal tonight- finding out whether or not Isador truly did the things he is accused of. If we are successful in restoring balance to Aodh, perhaps then we can speak of slaves' rights and what can be done to help them- but that time is not now."
She then turned to Lux to address his statement. "Indeed- all societies exist on lies and half-truths. Sometimes it is better to omit or only partially reveal information in order to keep the public from panicking." She thought of the rumors, of the ways too much of the truth had affected the War Forged. That was not something she could risk happening to New Valore, to Aodh, to House Xoias.
She turned next to the Flamines. "Wise Flamines," she said, giving a slight nod in respect to their positions, "if you say Ignacio is with us, then I believe you. You know the Smoldering Sun the best out of all of us. And you," she said, facing Euonia fully, "I believe your visions, and I believe that the King showed too much of his hand in ordering you to give up the names. After all- if those visions were false, then why pursue those who speak? It reeks of guilt to me."
She turned to the Northern Dragon once more. "Yes, a kirin was born to House Soleil. However, that child will never be in line for the throne, due to Emin Lilith's past actions, so that point is moot. And we need not scramble to find a replacement for the throne when we have yet to successfully clear it, if such an action proves necessary."
She turned to face the room, raising the volume of her voice once more. "I am afraid that I can offer no new information to the cause of finding the truth. However, I believe the visions Ignacio has shown to members of this crowd tonight, and I believe that something is indeed rotten in New Valore. I can pledge my support to what may come- but we must have a clear plan of action before we move forward with any plans. Too hasty a decision may lead to all of us-" she turned to the sole kirin in the room and gave a smirk- "well, some of us being roasted alive and fed to Sola. I'm sure that I speak for everyone when I say that that is not a fate I wish for myself."
|
|
|
|
Post by Silverfallingstar on Jan 16, 2021 21:52:15 GMT -6
Shay|Commoner|Aodh
Shay watched nervously as more equine filed into the pub, hoods and masks up. Though upon the entrance of the Flamen, Shay relaxed a bit. The Flamen were good horses, horses that spoke Ignacio's words. They were safe.
He watched as the discussions mounted, initially content to stay quiet. He shuffled closer to Tate, feeling a sort of comfort in the older stallions side. Oh how he wished Ellenore were here, she always knew what to say during situations like this. He'd abandoned his soup in favor of gnawing nervously on his bread. There was a weight to what was being said here. Right now this discussion felt less like rumors, these were people who'd seen these things for themselves.
He was about to open his mouth to talk to the slave who had lashed out at everyone when Moira began to speak, and his eyes focused on her and the other Flamen beside her, hoping for some form of solace in their words. But as the descriptions of the visions came, he felt his heart sink and his eyes begin to burn. Had it been anyone else he'd have thought it a cruel prank, but why would Euonia lie about this? These visions clearly pointed a bloody hoof in Isador's direction. He blinked as hot tears flowed down his face as he felt his knees shake.
Shay chewed on his lower lip. He'd been young when the massacre at the ball happened, too young to fully understand any of it other than fear. His ears pinned back and he cast his eyes down when his mother was mentioned. In the silence that followed, Shay felt himself moved to speak up.
"Emin Ingrid is still young, even if m- Even if Emin Lilith hadn't been disinherited, I don't know if anyone would want a young king so soon after Amadeus."
His voice was shaky, and he was sniffling from the tears. He didn't want to lose any more family.
"I don't have anything new to give to these discussions. But I promise my secrecy, nobody will learn your names from me."
If the discussions moved to the rumors about the kirins, then he might have more important things to add. He cast a brief glance underneath his hood towards Euonia and pressed against Tate's side, sniffling slightly as he composed himself.
Post 2|389 (ooc: Shay's hood is up, he's not wearing a mask)
|
|
|
|
Post by kajeayn on Jan 16, 2021 22:08:34 GMT -6
R O S A L B A
post 3 | wc 631
She listened, and she waited.
The conversation rolled around the room like thunder, and she watched in interest as equines from all walks of life argued pointlessly about the plight of slaves. The labor slave in the dragon “mask” (how a labor slave got her hooves on one was a question she would look into later) appeared to have decided to try and use this opportunity to get her opinion listened to.
As the conversation continued, some of the slave’s words sank in, and Rosalba’s head lifted slightly.
She set her glass down gently, and made a brief gesture to her slaves to stay put. She rose, quietly gathering her cloak around herself, brushing past the other nobility.
She walked into the center of the room, cloven hooves clicking softly against the wood.
“This is an informal gathering.” She spoke quietly. “And I have no interest in wasting what time we have arguing amongst ourselves. But you.”
She came to a halt in front of Delta, teke glowing as she removed her hood, shaking out her long curls. Her rose crown gleamed in the light of the pub, and she turned her head, her slit pupils narrowing as they focused on Delta.
“You will hold your tongue, or I will cut it out myself. I don’t know who you think you are, but let me enlighten you as to who I am. I am Rosalba Cardea. I am the Head of my House. I am an Advisor to the King. And I don’t care who you are. I don’t care what you’ve done. But you will show respect to everyone here, and to those who fell at the Ball.”
Her eyes blazed with a cold fire, staring at Delta in undisguised disgust and hate.
“You know nothing. You are nothing. You remain alive because I do not want to mar this meeting with bloodshed, but you will be silent or I will personally silence you.” She stared her down, her nostrils flared. After a few long, tense heartbeats, she turned her head, dismissing her without a word.
“Now. I have no interest in wasting any more of my time listening to people air their personal grievances or asinine opinions. Speak of the topic at hand, or don’t speak at all.” Her tail lashed, her stare cold and unyielding. “I apologize, your Eminences.” She inclined her head towards the Flamines who had revealed themselves so far- Moira and Euonia. “You deserve more respect than has been shown to you thus far. Your time is invaluable, and we are honored to have you.”
Moira met her gaze, and she smiled slightly, inclining her head in return, but said nothing. Rosalba was silent a moment, turning to look briefly at Eliina- the Envoy had spoken well, and she acknowledged that with a slight nod of her head towards her. Then she sighed, addressing the room at large once more.
“Now that I have been forced to reveal myself, I suppose I will answer any questions within reason. I was not at the Palace the night of the visions, but I have heard the stories. I can personally attest,” She broke off, for just a moment, the ice in her eyes splintering. “...That the display of the Ball’s events was accurate. Many innocents died that night.” Her voice had gone frigid again. “And I would do whatever is in my power to ensure the ones responsible face due justice.”
Her eyes lingered on the young bastard son, Shay, when he spoke up.
“Ingrid will never be King. Too young, too far removed from the crown. And despite what others have said, he is no better than anyone just because of his scales.” She gave a small, wry smile. “But I thank you for your discretion.”
|
|
reyarpg
Star
- What's sleep?
Posts: 41
|
Post by reyarpg on Jan 16, 2021 22:42:31 GMT -6
Edenne | Servile Slave | Post: #3
TAGGING: Icee / Alcmene
Up until this point, Edenne had remained largely calm and relatively undisturbed. The horses of importance were speaking of matters that only concerned her as far as they concerned Rosalba. She was taking in the words, keeping an eye out for anything or anyone to make an unwanted move, though up until this point, she hardly had any reason to worry.
That, however, changed, when the gardener spoke.
Edenne had hardly seen them much herself, but the way they spoke so boldly and so out of turn about the issues that slaves faced truly appalled her. That was hardly the topic at hand, quite frankly, as more were discussing Isador than anything else. Secondly, the gardener spoke of how awful slaves had it; spoke about paying impoverished, and suggested that the upper class do things themselves. And they spoke in such an awful, brash manner that Edenne was having a hard time registering what she was hearing as real .
How dare they? Truly, how did they dare speak like this, with Rosalba right there for them to punish them should they want to. Was this how they felt about Rosalba? Rosalba may not be the nicest horse around but she was by no means cruel, and hearing such biting words that were directed to Aodhian upper-crusts as a whole - of which included Rosalba - spurned Edenne and sent a fire blazing in her chest. The gardener was lucky to even be owned by someone as kind as Rosalba; did they prefer the harsh, dusty labor of the Dark District that all slaves like themselves had to call home?
There were so many things that Edenne wanted to say, and had it not been for the cold metal bit in her mouth reminding her to keep her mouth shut, she probably would have said some rather regrettable things. However, she could not help the indignant huff and snort that found it's way out of her, nor could she prevent the stomp of her foot against the wooden floorboards. Fortunately, Edenne was dainty and restrained enough to prevent from garnering too much attention with such an action, though she was quite certain Rosa would catch on. Her ears were pinned back under her cloak as she thought of a million angry things she wanted to spit at the gardener. The name of the horse was lost on her memory; she forgot if she ever even knew it.
The way they spoke so brazenly was an embarrassment to Rosalba, should anyone find out who they were and which patron in the room was Rosalba. Edenne, despite her desire to chew out the gardener; to remind them of their place in society, chose to bite her tongue and bide her time. She was more than certain Rosa was even more incensed than her.
The words of the Flamen Moira were lost on her, though her commanding tone gave Edenne a moment to pause and look at something that wasn't the back of the gardener's head. At least Edenne could agree to some of the words she spoke. Aodh wasn't perfect. Nor has it ever been. But the country was burning, and pointless bickering would get them nowhere but into the dust quicker.
Edenne could agree to that.
Edenne listened to the next horse speak about the visions they experienced; alongside several others. The last vision discussed gave her pause, as she'd gathered plenty of context clues about the fated ball from Rosalba. Her poor mistress had suffered so much.... and now someone had seen something more about that night. Her blood ran cold and she couldn't help but cast a side glance towards Rosa, though she couldn't see her mistress's face well underneath that cloak of hers.
More talking, more faces whose names she didn't know very well. She stuck close to Rosalba, still quite angry for and with her. As Rosa rose, Edenne followed, obediently, for her order to stay put. With that, she listened to what her mistress had to say, taking in every word, but more importantly, scanning the room to make sure there were no threats to Rosa's livelihood. Checking the room for any glances Rosa's way that might be perceived as a threat. As Rosalba spoke with fire and brimstone, putting the labor slave in what Edenne felt was definitely their place, Edenne took this moment to tug on Alcmene to get their attention, and she stepped forward only enough to speak to them in hushed, harsh tones.
"I would think it best if you hold that tongue of yours from now on, before you embarrass our Lady Patron, Rosalba, further than you already have." She all but hissed, keeping her tone down so few would hear beyond herself and Alcmene.
WC: 788. I'm so sorry.
|
|
savorda
Dwarf Star
avatar by posy-punch
Posts: 61
|
Post by savorda on Jan 17, 2021 0:21:39 GMT -6
| O B E R Y N A D V I S E R D O N O T B E S O R R Y B E B E T T E R |
Oberyn offered Eliina a stiff smile. Had he heard such news? He couldn’t recall. Then again, Lucille is the one who keeps up with inter familial happenings these days.
“I’m sorry for your loss then. I wish you could have found Aodh in a better state than this.” he murmured. He nodded to Iulia as she sat. With so much talk going about, it was all he could do to sit back and listen. Eliina seemed to be correct, in the sense that so many flamines spoke so openly. He was grateful for it. He found their presence comforting.
The labor slave with the thick Onean accent made Oberyn’s lip curl. For an outsider, and a slave to boot, to have the audacity to criticize them so harshly dumbfounded him. It’s truly a wonder how she’s lived this long with. He hoped that was the end of that nonsense, until one of rosalba’s own slaves spoke up. Oberyn shook his head. This is exactly why he never kept slaves (himself at least, Lucille and Arthur were extremely fond of theirs). They can grow too bold far too easily and cause nothing but trouble. He huffed, grateful for Flamen Moira’s interjection.
As Flamen Euonia spoke of the vision of the New Year’s Ball, a familiar guilt reared its head. It began to shift and morph into a cold fury and settled in the pit of his stomach. To think that his sisters could be nothing but collateral damage in Isador’s thirst for power made his blood boil. They attended the ball in place of Oberyn when many of his children fell ill, and they were killed for it.
The labor slave spoke again, and Oberyn nearly snapped. Did she not understand her position in life? She surely had a death wish, speaking so boldly yet again. She may have been some great warrior in Onea, as Eliina said, but she was nothing here. Eliina spoke well, for which he was grateful, but his ears pricked when Rosalba stood. Oh how little he envied this slave, so much so, he didn't bother trying to hide his growing smirk. Good, he hoped Rosa’s words finally knocked some sense into the slave.
Oberyn was more than happy to let others do all the talking, but the mention of visions about the New Year’s Ball jogged his memory. He would rather forget the painful reminder, but given their current circumstances, it might prove useful. He stood with a heavy sigh, letting his hood fall.
“Now, if we may return to more pressing matters,” he said, looking pointedly at Delta, “Flamen Eunia’s vision of the ball was not the only one received. Myself and many others, several of which are here tonight, received a strange vision when we went to investigate the strange building in the Common District. I’m sure many of you have heard of it by now. This vision was far less obvious than the one Flamen Euonia received, but it’s message was just the same.”
“It showed us a scene all too familiar. Strange beasts danced in the place of horses in a golden city, but there was no mistaking their identities. Dragons circled above them, most notably a magnificent golden drake. A white wyvern secluded themself from the festivities. This wyvern attacks the dragons, and they fall one by one. The golden one falls last, and the wyvern flies in her place.” Oberyn paced as he spoke, as he often did when he lectured his children. He paused looking towards Rosalba before continuing. “Only, that was not the last of the visions.”
“The wyvern perches on a tower while flames threaten the city. No harm comes to the city, but they burn no less. A dragon winged lion joins the wyvern, sinks its teeth into the wyvern’s throat, and the remaining creatures feast upon the wyvern."
"Make of it what you will.”
650 words | post 2
|
|
|
|
Post by Luneby on Jan 17, 2021 9:52:27 GMT -6
E U O N I A"Renunciation, total and sweet."
Euonia stared coldly as the Onean former warrior spat insults at her face, and the one of all her fellow Flamines. Despite her position, she still found herself surprised when others vocally stood up for her, defending her honor, her God and the legitimacy of her testimony. She couldn’t help but silently flush with surprise, amusement and admiration as Rosalba dramatically revealed herself, apologized to both her and Moira, and bravely voiced her will to bring about justice. While Eliina and Rosalba did more than a great job at answering the Onean slave, she could not avoid standing up for herself and her god but was adamant on not diverting away from the most pressing matters. Euonia rose again, facing the larger mare with unyielding calm. She knew her words came from a place of anger and complete ignorance towards the situation, but getting accused of her herd’s every flaw was getting old. She took a deep breath, quiet eyes scanning the gray mare with no anger. “ No, I won’t tell any of my attendees about the visions yet, for their own safety, warrior. As a Flamen, I do have influence, and I attract the respect of my peers. I should not have to explain myself to anyone, and I will not. Just know that I categorically refuse to put the people under my responsibility in harm’s way, and I will not put my own life on the line either while a wyvern lives in the very palace where I officiate. Being useless casualties of this war will make us win it.” The wyvern was only the most obvious reason why she would never do such a thing, but Delta likely was the only person not to understand the many dangers that she would bring about was she to spread incriminating information right under Isador’s nose. She turned towards Eliina, Rosalba and Oberyn, politely ducking her head before them, as a sign of thankfulness. “ I truly value the trust you put in me and in Ignacio alike, and I shall not disappoint. I must thank you for your support and so openly sharing the experiences you have all been through, as painful as they may be. We will ensure that justice will be brought to all who have lost their lives in the wake if Isador’s bloodshed – slaves and nobles alike.” She now looked directly at Oberyn. “ The visions you speak of certainly mirror the ones I witnessed. It seems to me that they may be of a more… dynastic nature. My visions were glimpses of the past, but I am hopeful that those you described might be prophetic. I do hope so, at least. The symbolism they display certainly leads me to believe so.” “I’m also very curious about the building you mentioned. I have heard of it, and believe it was sectioned off the city, correct? I would be interested to learn more about it, if you believe there is any other relevant information you could share. The number of supernatural events that happened around the same time certainly is uncanny and is likely no coincidence. Any of you who saw something of interest is welcome to share their experience safely.”
There were things that she had yet to tell herself. But everything would be told in its own time.
WC: 552| Post # 3
|
|
|
|
Post by Prismaticlysm on Jan 17, 2021 15:01:41 GMT -6
RUNT Aodh Labor Slave Word count: 1864 | Post #: 2
Mentions (in order): Alcmene, Moira, Euonia, Caron, Delta, Tate, Eliina, Shay, Oberyn Interacting with: The entire room (skip to gold text if you don't want to hear Runts inner thoughts and stuff but want to hear his account of the matter)
Runt found that his own appetite was soured, but something about leaving the soup undrunk felt really disrespectful, and he knew he would regret it later if he didn't finish it. Keeping his promise to stay silent, he focused on inhaling the rest of Delta's unfinished meal; but this time he was paying attention with what was actually being said around him. And keeping tabs on Delta, as ordered. With his head down and ears forward, he guzzled down the last bit of the contents from his fellow slaves bowl, the taste doing well to counteract the unease in his stomach. Another slave spoke up [ Alcmene], looking silvery gray from his angle. She spoke about some of the things Delta brought up, and added onto it a rumor about Seroran slaves being released. It made sense, he had noticed some slaves going missing; maybe they hadn't died and were simply sent back home. It made his heart ache, because he was not Seroran. He wasn't even Onean. He was a wanderer, a Vagabond, and there was no hope for him to be pulled out of bondage. The silver mare kept going on about slave labor, the venom causing the boy to wince down at the bowl, trying to conceal he was even listening. Not that there was really any worry, he was small, no one noticed him already so as long as he stayed silent, he could probably slip back to the Dark District unnoticed. Another voice broke the brief silence, causing the youth to glance up. She was dark pelted [ Moira], hard to see from his corner, but he could hear her just fine now that he was paying attention. They were there seeking truth? Truth about what? As much as he personally cared about the plight of the slaves, barely even able to get up some days himself due to the fatigue and the ache in his bones, something about the dark mares words struck him. If Aodh was on fire, well, it was with all those rumors about the Kirin, then the fire needed to be put out first. Maybe after that, his life could turn for the better. All of the Labor slaves live would become better. Maybe they would even all be freed. A golden mare with brown wings spoke up next [ Euonia], even going so far as to give a name to the black mare; Moira. She spoke about the King, the very being who changed the lives of the Labor force overnight, and definitely for the worse. Still with his head down, he listened. She named herself, Euonia, Flamen of Oralee Sanctum. He couldn't say he had ever been there before. She explained about strange occurrences that happened in her domain. Wait, wasn't that around the same time he and numerous others had been plagued of visions outside of the bone white sanctum? The topic changed to other royals, mainly Emin Lilith; Runt was vaguely aware of who she was, knowing only that she had numerous children from numerous fathers. He shivered at the thought that her children would...disappear. He shivered as the conversation moved onto a situation with another slave who was, as he understood it, dying. Something about a Seroran diplomat and the King being distressed about it. While he had not been there for the New Years Ball of 1697, he had heard about it. What Labor slave had not? Numerous slaves talked about it from time to time. He shivered when he heard how this Flamen had been approached by the king, interrogated, and was essentially forced to divulge at least some of the names of those who witnessed those visions. He was glad he was just outside the burning building with the time-stopped rain; the King probably would have had him killed due to being a Labor slave if he had witnessed the visions Euonia had encountered. After the golden Flamen stopped speaking, someone else spoke up [ Caron]. The kirin was dark, much like Moira, but the similarities ended at their black coloring. He had seen kirin before, but this particular one snagged his attention immediately; he was once a slave! He wanted to ask how it was possible, but again, orders were orders. Chewing his lip, he listened to this Kirin named Caron. The king sounded like someone Runt was determined not to meet. What if the King interrogated those who witnessed the visions of the burning sanctum? Caron finished, and Delta started again. He listened to her, internalized names, locations, feeling that much more insecure about the whole thing. It seemed to him everyone was in agreement that King Isador needed to be dethroned. A white unicorn stood [ Tate], addressing the room. He suggested making allies to make a stand. That sounded pretty heroic. After he finished talking, a black unicorn with silver horns [ Eliina] spoke up, speaking about things he didn't think anyone else knew about Delta. It made him uncomfortable, but mostly uncomfortable for Delta. He still didn't know what a Valkyrie was, only that it was important to the former War Lord, Hira. Ultimately, the conversation turned back towards the visions, so Runt shook off some of his unease. And fleas. Then came the mention of being fed to Sola. Nope. He gulped, hard, and shivered at the very thought. Nope. A smaller voice spoke up [ Shay], sounded no older than Runt himself was. He looked over to the hooded child, who sniffed in a manner that suggested they had either experienced the horrors preciously spoken, or they were afraid of them. Runt didn't blame them in the slightest. And then someone appeared who he had not thought would even been there, Rosalba. He didn't need to see her without the cloak, the voice was familiar enough considering what he had experienced alongside the Advisor before the burning sanctum. She strode with purpose until she was standing before Delta, lifting shimmering teke to completely reveal herself and Runt found himself turning his gaze away, ears folded against his skull. He didn't really want to be recognized. He winced at the threats, ones he didn't want to believe Rosalba was capable of. But she was an advisor. To the king. The very equine they were even speaking about. Her voice, words, cut him. He wasn't sure why they felt like daggers dragged across his skin, but they did. He tuned out the rest of what she said, simply to save himself anymore stress. Another spoke [ Oberyn], one Runt recognized to have been one that was there with Rosalba that day. What he said made Runt snap his head up, the events that he himself had experienced. He felt a familiar wave of nausea wash over him, but he gulped the feeling down. It wasn't real. Oberyn recounted a quick summary what had happened, and he sat up straight to see what the others thought about it. Euonia spoke, making Runt think. He had been there, he had seen those visions. Oberyn glossed over a bit of it, all of which he could still see when he himself closed his eyes. Slowly, the boy stood, thin body making its way to the center of the room. He was a slave, a Labor slave he knew, but what he was going to say was the truth, and there were those, including Rosalba, who knew it to be such. With his tail tucked, he opened his middle eye and spoke, knowing well that most, if not all of the patrons, had not seen him until now. "I saw the visions." He looked up to Euonia, glancing to Oberyn and Rosalba. "The building lit on fire, where a group had already gone inside. We were assaulted with images of glass, sand, fire like a cyclone. Books being torn up to the sound of sad music...music that almost sounded pleased." He paused. "They came in waves. They made me want to be sick, the feelings that came with the visions. Four cities...what was it...Gold, sand, rainbow rocks, glass." He looked to the ground as he put his memories in line. "Two pegasus. One hugging the sun, the other the moons. They fight to claim the sky. The city of gold melts, runs with blood. The city of sand sinks. The rainbow rocks crack, but stay standing. The glass one disappears. After that second vision, the rain just hung in the air all around us."He shivers, his ribs protruding from under thin skin. "We didn't know it would start again, but it did." A subtle look of pain spreads across his face. "I'll never forget that voice...It sounded like my long dead parents, and the stallion who took my freedom. And I'll never forget what was said." He paused to separate his thoughts. "A message mayhaps; a vision is always fluid. Knowledge unearned bears no fruit. A warning this may be; or perhaps a promise. In showing you your past, I'll give you a future." He snorted, frustrated. "What does that even mean?" It had been a while since he thought about it. "The voice turns into another vision, a vision of a gold dragon flying over the bloody, gold city. She's surrounded by others in all different colors. And other creatures down below. Too many to remember. Except the white wyvern." He grows uncomfortable. "Everyone is dancing but that white wyvern. And it suddenly starts killing everyone around it. It even kills the gold dragon. Then it's alone in the sky. But thats not the final vision..." He closed his eyes, exhausted. He was remember what he said, what Rosalba had said. "Another vision came with the smell of incense, like from the Sanctums. The wyvern is still alone, but the blood slowly drains away from the golden city. There's fire closing in, destroying everything in its path. But it doesn't consume the city. The wyvern sits on the tallest tower. Peaceful." He makes a face, his eyes open again. "Then a winged lion joins the white wyvern. The fires still burn, but then the lion bites the white wyverns throat. The creatures of the city eat it. Then it burns. What sounded like a lion roared from everywhere all at once." He took a breath, panting. Almost done. What was that last vision. No, it wasn't a vision, just a voice. Words. "What was it....Pearl towers. Five of them, like a star, I think. A light shining skywards. A ripped up map." It was harder to remember this one, he had been so tired after even the first vision. "Fury, regret, justice, revenge, balance. Change. She will come in glory. Whoever she is." He looks up to Oberyn and Rosalba in particular. "Fire within the sea. Wings. She will come before the end of the season. Stars bleeding, bones cracking. Ahh..." Was he even remembering this correctly? "Wyvern will be killed by a lion. Raised banners. Fighting fire with fire. A city will be found. Shackles will be broken. Change will happen. Dawn in fire and light." Oh thats right. The shackles! His shackles maybe. He stayed silent, letting the words sink in, if anyone chose to actually listen to him. |
|
|
|
Post by misttheelf on Jan 17, 2021 16:29:08 GMT -6
Caron "Now the Fire and Wind guide me to Freedom."
Post 5| WC 498 Caron hummed as the dragon-faced mare spoke again. They were rather brave, they had to admit, and far blunter in tongue. She suggested giving the throne to the Kirin born to the royals… But no, Ingrid was too young, much as Amadeus had been, in their opinion.
Caron gave a small nod in Tate’s direction when he spoke about giving assistance to those who may need some. Then another spoke - Ah, so they knew of the dragon-faced mare. It was… Interesting to learn of her past, but Caron could not say that changed their opinion of Delta.
They had not been wronged by her, after all. Indeed, a fighter of that caliber could be of some use, should she become a friend.
They gave a small chuckle as the one who revealed Delta’s past made mention of some of them being burned alive and fed to Sola. While they could not burn, Caron had a feeling that Isador would have no qualm about feeding the Wyvern a kirin.
Tate’s companion was the next to speak, saying little more than promising secrecy.
Then a cloaked figure from the back stood, and walked to the center of the room.
Advisor Rosalba.
A dangerous mare, of whom Delta had apparently earned the ire of with her boldness.
She wanted the topic to stay on track? Very well. Caron would certainly try to keep the information organized, as others voiced their agreement, on the fact that Ingrid could not be king.
Caron took a step towards Delta, and whispered to her “Be mindful of your tongue - Boldness can be good, but when dealing with the high-borns, it is wise to prioritize what they wish to hear.” They stepped closer to the center, and addressed the room. “It’s a mild comfort to know, that those with power are joining us, so that perhaps things may be done about the truths uncovered from verified rumours. I believe the reason we all came here originally was a variety of rumours, though we have mainly focused on the ones directly surrounding Isador. I do beg of you to not forget about the others - Especially given the content of the visions mentioned. I’m afraid I’ve already offered what I can of the information front, but certainly I may be of assistance in pointing out connections. For example, the visions of the wyvern - Does it not line up with the rumor of the presence of more wyverns than Sola? And let us not forget the threat of an attack from the Kirins who do not call this city home. There are many words that float the streets, and I do believe that among those of us gathered here tonight, those who wear bits have heard the most - Their words should not be so callously dismissed, Advisor Rosalba.” They bowed their head to her, a show of respect, though their words were rather pointed. “Especially as, well… After all, I suppose it would take a murderer to recognize one.” |
|
|
|
Post by Zugunruhes on Jan 18, 2021 18:47:52 GMT -6
▸Kaspar◂
WC 360 | Post Two
Kaspar was silent for a long time, attending to all the voices that rang out in the pub. Some voices churned with a seething anger, their words glowing and dripping with molten ire. Others spoke with the pain of loss and sadness, recalling the plights of the refugees outside the city to the murderers of the ball. At times, like an ocean battered by winds, the conversation rose and fell in different directions. Kaspar disconnected from it briefly when the refugees occupied his mind. He feared what could happen to them the most, ever since Isador's speech that had condemned them as cowards only for fearing an ancient, unknown threat.
The other words, challenging Aodh's history and tearing into the labor that Valore flourished upon him, set minute fractures in the back of his mind. He knew he would have to pursue the conversations one day- they troubled him too much to ignore- but the most pressing matter was the King himself. Evidence was set out by many equines. The visions stirred his curiosity most- signs from the Gods willing the people to understand and pursue their fates. They could not be ignored.
He stepped forward, hood slipping down to reveal his face, an expression of calm despite the ache he carried within. "These visions are the Gods connecting to us. So what shall we make of them? A city on fire while a wyvern watches and then is defeated. Fire has many faces, some destructive and consuming, some warm and empowering. Perhaps all of us gathered are the embers of a new fire, guided by our passion."
He gazed across the room, wanting to meet each face whether present or masked evenly. "We gather here in secret today because we know if any of us raise our voices to the King alone we will be taken away. But imagine if not one, but thousands address the King in the city because what was shared here tonight spreads like fire to every corner? Then we can seek truth for all our citizens... and justice for the ghosts of the past and the refugees living in hunger and despair."
OOC: Kaspar is addressing the whole room.
Image by Kruuja
|
|
|
|
Post by Dream-Lark on Jan 18, 2021 23:14:44 GMT -6
 Tesana;Aodh|Commoner
The mare blinked as a unicorn approached the bar and ordered drinks, bold and beautiful, clearly used to this establishment. Tesana took a drink of her wine, nodding her cloaked head to Nova. “You’ve hit the nail on the head, my dear. I’ve tried not to dwell too much on the rumors around...him, but I agree things don’t add up. Mostly I’m here to see if anyone had anything new, or ideas about that strange series of visions some of us were subjected to,” Tesana replied, impressed and a little awed at the greater boldness of this equine calling the King...Issy. She almost wanted to laugh, but she was almost certain the sound would have been partially hysterical. This was so unlike her, and she could only assume it was because she was letting the atmosphere get to her. If this had been in her bathhouse she’d have been docking pay and metting out physical labor the slaves usually did as punishment.
She certainly wouldn’t have felt like a meek, anxious teenager trying to sneak under the surveillance of an imposing parent.
Gaze followed her new companion’s to the kirin, drawing a deep breath as she did and trying to marshal her emotions into some semblance of control. She was in control of herself, if not the surroundings. She needed to remind herself of that.
“It’s actually jarring and I can’t say pleasant. Those Heralds have certainly spoiled any kirin awe I used to have,” the hippocampus replied, shaking her head sadly. She had no idea who the dark stranger was, but unfortunately his scales and antlers had certainly created a bias against him.
It was then that the labor slave Tesana had dragged here chose to speak up, and the mare nearly choked on her wine. She stilled herself and managed not to gape in shock as the mare stamped her hoof and began a tirade.
Dear Ignacio, who did I bring with me? I should have left well enough alone.
Tesana’s attention was quickly drawn away from Nova, captivated by speaker after speaker as the events unfolded before her. She stayed put, only ordering another glass of wine, as if this were some tragedy at the theater and she couldn’t look away. Couldn’t stop listening.
The next shock came as she registered two Flamines were present, and then an Advisor revealed herself. Powerful, intimidating, and radiating fury.
Tesana was quite glad she actually had no association to that labor slave now, and was absolutely not going to go near them now.
Goodness things are...intense.
It was as she was thinking that, that she heard a small voice speaking up nearby. A clearly nervous mare stood at the bar, neither cloaked nor masked, and looking close to panic. “Oh dear, here. You look like you could use some of this,” Tes murmured, passing Sunny her glass of wine and signaling for another. “It’ll calm the nerves, dear. If you think there’s anything that needs said, you just tell me and I’ll say it for you, alright?” The mare’s protective, maternal instincts had surfaced, and she wanted to sooth the younger female’s anxiety. It also helped to ground her own emotions further.
Then the little slave stepped forward, Runt. He had been there the day the visions at the now blocked off Mysterious Building had happened. And he spoke...quite clearly of what happened. Truly, Tes was impressed with the little one’s memory and ability to recite it. The mare was no slouch when it came to intelligence, but she didn’t think she would have been able to retell it so well -- mostly the memory of nausea stood out to her.
Feeling much more herself (the wine had done well to calm her nerves), the typically serious mare felt another shock of surprise when another Flamen revealed himself. Their presence, as did Advisor Rosalba’s, gave Tes strength. She felt a little silly to still be wearing her mask and cloak, but neither was she about to remove them. She didn’t have any of the extra protection those prestigious equines did. She could easily be incarcerated and disappear, a mere commoner, even if she was a wealthy one.
“I did hear a rumor one day, that there might be a plan to overthrow the King, like that lion did that wyvern. Maybe that vision lends the rumor a little plausibility? We really do only know of two wyverns. The one that rules this city, and the one that wants to burn it to the ground.”
WC:757 | Post #2 | Ref
Art by Kajeayn |
|
|
|
Post by floatyy on Jan 18, 2021 23:47:00 GMT -6
Sunny was tired. So tired. The fighting, arguing, the swirling of rumors tickling her curiosity but setting her anxiety alight like the sun settled within her. It burned, consumed her like she was nothing. She felt Andromeda lean against her, trying to sooth her anxieties. It helped a bit. Caron offering his friendship soothed her mildly as well, even if she wasn't in much trouble. The mare shook her head at the offer for her to leave, stubborn enough to stay put. She'd see this through to the end, that was certain.
She flinched, though, when a mare spoke to her. Her pale yellow eyes flicked around, catching on the glass of wine before the mare holding it. Not wanting to be rude, the young equine took the glass. "Th..." She cleared her throat, dipping her head politely. "Thank you." Her ears dropped a bit, and she shifted her weight as more and more flamens and advisors made themselves known.
Oh dear.
The anxiety came back like a cloud covering the moon, fogging her mind as she tried to fight against it. Everything about this conversation was risky. What would happen if someone DID overthrow the king? She wasn't sure she wanted to find out, really. So, she drank. The bitter liquid made her cringe, and Sunny clenched her jaw at the aftertaste. Nothing like tea, nor coffee.
Deciding to stay quiet, Sunny sat and stewed in her own worries and doubts. Andromeda could only send waves of comfort to Sunny's mind, watching the room carefully. She could tell by the increase in heat that the Furia was ready to defend her at any given moment, if need be.
"If... If there is another wyvern, who's to say the King won't just... burn us all down? For speaking out against him, demanding justice for those poor souls?" She murmured, not quite looking for attention, but wanting her opinion to be heard. "I uh... I just think... we need to be careful. If there are more wyverns, I mean." Sunny coughed quietly, shoulders twitching.
WC: 343 | Post: 5
|
|
|
|
Post by mai | nychnymph on Jan 19, 2021 22:34:07 GMT -6
✷ ✷ ✷
It had been many moons since he had visited New Valore’s Artisan District - a great testament to the hard work he had been wading through for quite some time. The King’s decisions had been more or less shaking the grounds of court and nobility and demanding him to meet with a variety of gentry and armiger players in House Julius’ large weapons empire to insure the circulating rumors and mingling panic Isador was causing would not sway the political prowess and financial success of House Julius. Convincing investors to quite literally stay invested was pulling teeth-type of work and not a type he did often. This had led him into the most foul of moods lately - causing many a fight between him and Alix for lack of anything beyond a grimace on his face for “ages, you bumbling oaf! Don’t tell me what to do!” Which had just made the grimace deepen. Thank you for that, dearest sister.
So finally he tracked down the source of these rumors - these hallowed whispers of white wyverns and deceiving murderer kings. A pub in the Artisan District - the favored district of his dear sister, who he had fought for hours over to guarantee she would not escape the confines of the Black Estate - called the Goldhead. He took it as encouragement to don his finery, lacing gold throughout his armored cloak like both the promise of nobility and the threat of it. A lasting touch was the deepened dragonic mask, half covering the front of his visage, but betraying his simmering horn and grimacing glinting teeth. It cut him a favorable and dangerous-looking character, toeing the line for mysterious warrior and obvious noble. Was he to take chances with disrespect in this foul mood of his? Never.
Adonis arrived at the Goldhead late in the evening, so much so that when he pushed open the door to the tavern - nodding to the bouncer who all but bowed at the gold House emblem on his pauldron (ah, the prestige of being Chevaliers’ choice armorer) - the Goldhead was teeming with life. Equines of all walks of life filled the pub, to the rafters it seemed, and he had chosen but a rather spectacularly tense moment to make his arrival. Which both soured and lightened his mood simultaneously.
But he had only garnered just a few stares and glances before the Flamen of the Fernos Sanctum - Kasper, formerly one of the House Ophiaz of which he knew well from court - began to speak. Adonis listened closely, walking the outskirts of the tavern’s main room and sticking to the shadows (though he doubted the gold of his thread and plate of his armor dulled along the darkened umbra). Kaspar brought up many interesting points, already directing to the topic that he had missed the beginning of but was quite to be attuned to. Indeed the Flamen spoke of the many refugees that lived in despair throughout New Valore, and he knew well and with his own eyes the treatment many had experienced.
Just months previous, the King sent him on a mission with the Flamen Pyre and many others to the outskirts of the Seroran refugee camp. The visage of orderly clean living fell away quickly to disease, violence, and famine; a harsh revelation of the true lives of the refugees. Isador displayed a false image, as clear as his own mask in court, in the small smiles bestowed on dutiful nobility, and the favorable strong image in his stride when the King stalked alongside his massive wyvern. And that mask was cracking - as was Adonis’ loyalty to this King. The truth was beginning to blossom.
A commoner of sweet disposition and looks spoke next, her fins shining, as she spoke with finality: “- The one that rules this city, and the one that wants to burn it to the ground.”
Adonis passed right behind the next commoner that spoke, a sunny mare with a furia close to her side. As her trembling voice spoke, he neared a table of clothed equines only to spy the flank of one Advisor of interest - Rosalba of House Cardea, uncovered, and with the Envoy Eliina and Advisor Oberyn bordering the rosy, bejeweled kirin. He met Rosalba’s eyes with a mighty smirk, pleased to see distaste in her gaze. Despite their common distrust of Isador, he was always glad to remind the House Cardea head he was a thorn in her side.
It was then that he answered the commoner’s question - a plea he could answer.
“If Isador turns his wyvern against the people, Ignacio would not let his people burn,” He said, musically and nearly soft, directing his gaze to the commoner before turning his attention to the Flamens present. Nearly all of them stood in the Goldhead pub, a sure and steady sign that Ignacio was on their side.
“The might of Aodhians seeking the truth would never be forsaken by our God of light.”
✷ ✷ ✷
Note: Adonis is wearing an armored furred cloak with a dragon-style half-mask.
1 | 825
|
|
|
|
Post by buffyandbramble on Jan 20, 2021 15:54:40 GMT -6
Such an interesting array of people, united. Sort of. Truthfully Lux didn't consider rumour and speculation to be much of a uniting force, but it was at least enough to gather many faces from many walks of life in one spot. As the talking went on, accusations less decidedly less veiled than he was used to, he wrinkled his nose under the mask. Horses were speaking with more frankness than before, perhaps emboldened by the presence of Flamines and following their example. Whilst some of their words were troublesome in implication, it wasn't the concern that sat foremost in his mind.
It was the presence of ranking equines that concerned him, more specifically, how it had come to be that so many had learned of the Goldhead and its... conversation topics. One, maybe two, very well connected horses maybe but already they were above that number without considering all those that might still be hiding under masks. If all of these horses knew, he'd be very surprised to if Isador were completely in the dark. Could the King really be so out of touch that he knew nothing of this? If he was, that was most concerning in and of itself.
The ball was brought up in conversation more directly, and as if summoned Rosalba appeared. She was remarkably composed, all things considered. It also meant that there were at least three of Isador's advisers in attendance at a (supposedly) secret meeting that included some rather serious accusations of the crown. My my... Lux himself didn't really consider himself aligned to one side of another, but Oberyn and Rosalba? He'd be surprised if they were here and pro-Isador. New appointments too, likely aligned against the very hoof that had picked them so soon.
Maybe Isador's grasp truly wasn't as strong as he'd like to think. How interesting.
A pair at the bar spoke up with reference to the wyverns and Lux flicked an ear.
"I wouldn't be so quick to draw a line between the wyverns. Just because one lives in the city does not mean it will not set Valore ablaze," he spoke up. He was completely aware of the fear in one voice, but he had no reason to try and allay it. That fear was justified, and to him it proved there was some sensible, ordinary horses here. Revolutionaries could be somewhat predisposed to dying for their cause, which tended to slant perspectives a little. Lux wasn't so impassioned he was willing to throw himself to the flames, nor did he have the religious fervor or faith in Ignacio to consider it some great honour. "What are a few thousand dead dissonants out of a herd of millions?" he asked, glancing in Kaspar's direction. "Or in the face of losing your power?" he asked. "Though I suppose a systematic cull of disloyal citizens might go some way to easing the refugee crisis," he mused with a touch of dark-humour in his voice. Getting rid of problematic citizens, making a show of force to try and quash any further whispers, and buying back the loyalty of some refugees by opening up space in the city for them.
"They say it was Alya that saved Opulence from the kirins, not Ignacio," he said, turn his mask towards the newcomer. "If that is true, and he did not intervene to save an entire city from an army, what interest has He in a supposedly corrupt King?
Say the rumours are true. Say the King's rise to power was pre-meditated. What does it change? And say the overthrower is to be overthrown," he really hoped someone else saw ironic parallels, that those complaining the King had plotted to seize power were now plotting to seize the same power, "what does it change?" After all, good Kings did not necessarily follow bad.
Post #3
WC: 640
|
|
|
|
Post by Coffie-Buzz on Jan 20, 2021 17:53:14 GMT -6
Delta
Aodh | Labor Slave
Delta cocked an eyebrow in amusement at the masked unicorn mare who commented on her… former… status. So the Northern Dragon was known. Interesting. When the word “murderer” was thrown in so casually, Delta let out the smallest puff of air from her nostrils. If the mare expected Delta to try and justify those deaths, she was wasting her time. Why they all died was justification in and of itself. But then the mare continued and Delta’s blood turned cold. One word kept repeating itself. Tried. Kelby was still alive. The dappled mare’s ears rang and every sound seemed to all but vanish. That is… until another mare got in her face. The words that left her mouth were sharp and venomous. Years of entitlement and superiority ran from her very existence. It took all of Delta’s self-control to keep the smug grin from the dragon’s face. Baited like a spoiled child. The Advisor didn’t scare her. She had fought much worse than this Nobility brat. She had killed worse. She certainly didn’t need the use of her weapons or blessings to do it. Rosalba spat something about showing respect and Delta mentally scoffed, ‘ But I am showing you the respect you deserve, bitch.’ She thought. The Advisor continued and Delta held eye contact with the most stone-faced expression she could manage. She had clearly struck a nerve, and the rosy mare’s point-break reaction only proved Delta’s point. Another spoke, a stallion who gave Delta a pointed glare. Various visions were described, but they all shared a similar vagueness. The Flamen, Euonia, confirmed Delta’s observation. The Slave was stunned to see no hatred in the smaller mare’s eyes when she spoke to her. That was new. Delta cleared her throat, bowing her head to the Flamen, keeping her voice gentile and sincere, “ Apologies, Your Grace. It won’t happen again.” Then Runt came and stood next to her, recounting the visions in staggering detail. The dragon’s expression softened as the boy spoke. She knew of only one other who had been through more at his age than this child. She wasn’t fond of kids being subjected to such horrors and difficulties. Lowering her head closer to his ear again, the dragon’s jaws parted, “ I’d give you a hug right now if I could, kiddo,” she whispered to him, voice no longer distorted by the flames she couldn’t use. She, instead, gave his shoulder a light bump with her prosthetic. When the black Kirin quietly spoke to her next, advising the silver mare to pick her words more carefully, Delta squinted, “ Voice of experience, sir?” she inquired. The way he had been so quick to offer advice that would potentially keep her from getting herself killed seemed unusual for a Kirin in this city. She was even more surprised when he more-or-less defended her in the wake of Rosalba’s verbal superiority complex. Then came the comment about only a murderer being able to recognize one. The snort that left her was quickly covered with a cough, but it had caught her so off-guard that she had been unable to stop it. Oh she liked him! However, despite the initial impression, she reminded herself that he was an Aodhian without chains. She’d reserve judgment for later. A few more spoke, then another and another. Delta stood quietly, listening. When Kaspar mentioned that he had faith that Ignacio would intervene, she felt… sad. She knew that it would have to become quite extensive for any God to get involved. Alya, Argus and Digend seemed to be the most proactive, but they always had been. She had yet to hear of anything concerning Cascade and she had no expectation what-so-ever of Kaia doing anything other than watching.
WC: 640 Post: 3 |
|
|
|
Post by misttheelf on Jan 20, 2021 19:35:37 GMT -6
Caron "Now the Fire and Wind guide me to Freedom."
Post 6 | WC 596 Caron took a step back towards the bar as they had finished speaking, their ears flicking to Delta as they heard her comment, asking if the advice came from experience - Ah, so she must have missed their introduction. “Indeed… I do.” They replied, a slight quirk to their lips “As I said a few minutes ago, I am a former slave. Though perhaps my story is best told elsewhere as to how my chains were shed.” They chuckled, as they looked to the mare who had originally approached them - The poor girl was scared, that was obvious, but another had gone to take the spot beside her to give her comfort, along with alcohol to steady the nerves - Caron had to sigh at that, as they listened to the others who spoke, indeed attempting to do as they had said, in attempting to realize connections that may have been missed.
They gave a nod, as Kaspar spoke about the dangers of voicing concern alone.
Their ear flicked towards the mare now beside Sunny, hearing her comment about losing any awe towards kirins due to the Heralds, and they couldn’t help a chuckle at that, especially given how they could tell of her discomfort. “I must apologize if my appearance makes you uncomfortable, but I must admit I am still rather getting used to it, myself.”
They hummed as she voiced about the second wyvern - the one that attacked the train.
Sunny mumbled after her, fearing Sola’s wrath. Caron gently brushed her side, to give her a bit of reassurance. She had done nothing wrong, as far as Caron knew - So she shouldn’t need to fear for her life like this.
Then one wearing armour walked in. Caron was wary immediately, their reaction saying ‘Chevalier’, but then they realized that no, it was merely a member of House Julius… Just another Eminent.
They spoke of Ignacio protecting them if Isador were to have Sola burn the city down - Indeed, Caron would find themself inclined to agree. One of the others who were fully disguised spoke as well, asking what does anything change, and the doubt of Ignacio doing anything, as it had not been him, but Alya who had saved Opulence, according to what he had heard.
Caron hummed at that, before speaking up. "...Is it wrong for both gods to act to protect a land? If what was said earlier is truth, then is it not unreasonable that both Alya and Ignacio would protect this land? I'm inclined to believe that Ignacio would act, as I have prayed to him for the strength to protect, and he has blessed me to do so. As for what could change, if these rumors of rebels were true… Perhaps in the event that Isador is overthrown, we do not replace him with another king? Perhaps a council, where commoners and nobles alike could come to a conclusion about what direction to take the country." They hummed, glancing around the room. Perhaps that was not what most wanted to hear, but it was what Caron thought.
How freeing it was to them, to be able to speak without reprimand due to their station. "But for now, our topic should remain on trying to find the truth of the rumors, rather than speculation on what could happen if one is true, until it's confirmed to be so. Indeed, the rumor about those who would be plotting to overthrow exists… but I believe it is also the one with the least information on it. Unless anyone has anything to add on it?"
Attachments:
|
|
|
|
Post by Kelpie-River on Jan 22, 2021 21:04:09 GMT -6
Misti || Palasa Flamen || Post Four
Misti's ears swiveled left and right as the chestnut appaloosa mare listened to what was being said around her. The words of Runt were not lightly taken, and her blue eyes were wide as he explained the elaborate visions which he'd seen. She wanted to say something, ask more about what the child had seen, but the conversation swept on before she had a chance to follow that vein. There was some chatter about the new Wyverns that had shown up, some mention of how Kaspar wanted them to join together, so as to avoid being taken apart.
And there was more talk. Misti felt overwhelmed, as voices chattered left and right, each making valid points. It was hard to keep up with what was being said, no matter how hard she strained. From behind her hawklike mask, she could see Sunny's discomfort, and hear heart ached for the bookkeeper. But she said nothing, choosing instead to listen.
When Caron, the black Kirin whose name Misti did not personally know, spoke up, the mare's ears swiveled to listen to him. Nodding, she agreed with the sentiment of focusing on what was happening that they could verify. For they knew that Wyverns were in existence, but what did they know of the King's rumors?
A thought occurred to the mare, and she sighed heavily. Carefully, she used her teke to pull the mask from her face, lowering the hood and revealing herself as the Palasa Flamen. "Since my siblings have shown their faces, I think it an act of cowardice if I do not show mine," said Misti, as she cleared her throat.
"I have been listening, and all of your points are...they have shaken me. But as a servant of Ignacio...I cannot say that I can speak for him, for how he would act with Alya. But I think the voices of those," she nodded to Runt, "Who verify the visions have proven that they are true enough. Now, the question becomes, how can we verify the rules of a blood-stained monarchy as well?"
WC: 345
|
|
|
|
Post by kajeayn on Jan 23, 2021 21:08:04 GMT -6
J E S S I A H
post 2 | wc 755
The voices around them rose and equines gathered in the center of the room, trading threats and information alike. They listened, as they always did, quiet and still in their seat. Enough that people seemed to have forgotten them entirely.
Exactly as they liked it, then.
They observed the meeting, unsurprised when it escalated into near-violence, only silently making plans involving retrieving Anna and Moira before it fizzled out, ending with Rosalba’s decisive words.
At least they could always count on Advisers to control a situation. They felt a flicker of relief, again, at the presence of three- they had not expected them to all show tonight, but their presence heartened them. As did the Flamines- the two they had escorted here were in good company.
It made them smile beneath their mask, hidden from the room. So far, the thoughts they had been listening to had been almost of one mind- they’d been carefully listening for any dissent, someone listening like them, or for even the faintest murmur of loyalty to Isador.
The labor slave’s vile words and perhaps more importantly, her vile thoughts were a distraction from their work. They weren’t certain why she was here, let alone speaking. She had nothing to offer to the current discussion except an apparent inflated sense of ego, wounded by being treated as the slave she was.
Their mind brushed Anna’s like the gentle touch of her feathers, trying not to startle her. She had heard their thoughts many times now, but they were still careful in requesting permission to speak.
“Please be careful with that one.” They whispered into her mind. They knew she would be careful, but they couldn’t stop themselves from reaching out. Just a light touch, a reminder they were watching her back.
They always would.
They had no doubt she was at least aware of the possible danger, but they felt better having at least warned her, returning their gaze to the rest of the discussion.
Their heart went out to the very young labor slave who spoke up, recounting the visions that had plagued them. Their ears perked up, listening intently to his words and his thoughts. They matched- he told the truth, at least how he remembered it, but the confirmations around the room only strengthened Jessiah’s belief in the story. How interesting, but impressive that the slave remembered it so keenly.
Jessiah’s chest ached, just a little, at the sight of a child with a bit in his mouth, but the reactions from others in the room exploded in their mind like shouts. Their ears pinned reflexively, sifting through the discordant noise- they weren’t used to reading such large rooms, the words were tangling around each other, getting into knots. The feelings didn’t all match up, but there was a clear, distinct theme- the labor slave foal inspired a strong reaction in many of the equines there tonight.
The most surprising came from Rosalba, they thought, glancing at her face. It showed none of her inner turmoil and shock, looking back towards the slave with a perfectly neutral expression.
“You have a good memory,” She noted.
You are a child. Her thoughts screamed.
“I have heard much less convincing true stories from the mouths of nobles. But I don’t need to doubt you, anyway- I was there, I saw these visions myself.”
“I’ll show you a future,” says a very young voice.
“You remember well.” She said, turning to regard the rest of the room. If Jessiah hadn’t been watching for it, they might have missed the way her skin twitched, like suppressing a flinch. “I vouch for him. He was there, and we saw the same.”
Near Euonia, Moira watched the conversation with a drawn, pained face, and it was her thoughts that rattled them the most. They knew Moira as someone whose thoughts were usually as calm as her outside demeanor- the voice in her head now was almost guttural, dragged over broken glass, raw from weeping.
Mostly, it was just a name.
A I L E E N
They recoiled from her internal voice, staring at the Flamen in silence a shocked moment before they shuddered, attempting to block her out as they explored the minds of the listeners and speakers.
They listened to everyone, but the countless strained voices were beginning to wear on them. A headache throbbed at the back of their head, slowly tipping towards a migraine, but they pushed through. They had been asked to listen.
They would listen until they could no more.
Notes: Rosalba is addressing the room, and Runt. Jessiah is reading the minds of Delta, Rosaba, Runt, and Moira. They're also speaking into Euonia's mind! |
|
|
|
Post by Prismaticlysm on Jan 24, 2021 18:02:50 GMT -6
 Runt Aodh - Labor Slave Runt fell silent, feeling rather... exhausted. He hated how such simple acts like talking could cause him to feel so winded. He knew his muscles and bones were strong from the hard work he was forced to perform, but little good did it do when the work was not supplemented with the sufficient calorie intact. Part of him wished he could leave right then and there, head to the dark district and hope to whatever God would hear him that he would be allowed to go to sleep for a few hours at least. But he was bound to that mare [Tesana], and it would look poorly on the state if he left without being dismissed. With a sigh, he shuffled himself a little closer to Delta. He looked up to her when she leaned down to whisper to him, offering him a gentle bump with her fake leg. It made him feel a little more invigorated, and he mustered a small smile in reply. Rosalba suddenly spoke up, offering him what he believed to be a compliment though her face remained emotionless; he could not hear her thoughts like Jessiah had. He nodded his head to her in thanks. She went on to talk about nobles and doubt, of which she didn't in regards to him. Of course she couldn't, he knew she was there, he recalled how she had even grasped him at one point when the visions had made him nearly collapse. She complimented him again, and then vouched for him. He felt relieved, thankful. And he voiced as much. "Thank you, Advisor Rosalba."The dark Kirin, Caron, spoke up again. At the kirins words, it did hearten him to some extent to know that those who could possibly have the capabilities to change things for the better were among them, agreeing with them. Those who would probably be executed without mercy should the King find out about this night. It was incredibly likely everyone within this room would be at Sola's mercy. He suppressed a shiver, swallowing a thick lump in his throat. He was suddenly very thirsty, maybe there was too much salt in the soup that had been given to him. Caron was right about one thing for sure; Labor Slaves were practically invisible ears, able to catch information not necessarily meant for them. He was certain he probably shouldn't have heard a lot of things since coming to Aodh. Another stepped forward, revealing a bi-colored face [Kaspar]. The way they spoke about their interpretations of the visions and their wording regarding flame and embers made Runt think the horse was a Flamen; there seemed to be quite a few of them in the Goldhead Pub. While there was a significant truth to Kaspar's words, Runt wasn't entirely sure if they held much merit. The idea that thousands of voices would call for answers from the King, simultaneously, was a hope filled candle. But then there was Sola. Those thousand voices could be snuffed out quicker than any candle. Unless somehow Sola was distracted. The thoughts fell to the back of his mind when the mare [Tesana] who had ordered him and Delta with her spoke up. Runt's eyes widened slightly when he heard about the so called plan to overthrow the King. Was it possible with Sola standing behind him? Tesana also spoke true about there being only two Wyverns, and both appeared to be enemies of Aodh in their own right. Though at least Sola had a leash through Isador. The other Wyvern though... The mare [Sunny] near Tesana spoke up next in a weak voice, voicing the exact fears Runt himself considered. He nodded along with what she said, ensuring he made the movement obvious enough. Should she notice, she would find he was completely agreeing with her. Someone [Adonis] strode behind Sunny, pulling Runt's eyes from her and instead following the other. They did little to hide their pompousness in their strong stride, which both unnerved and annoyed the colt. Half of his face was covered by a mask, but it wouldn't do much to hide the grin that came to his face as he came up to Rosalba; Runt could see the devious expression in his eyes from his position. And then he spoke in a voice that practically bled nobility. And despite the fact Runt wasn't sure he could like such a horse, he couldn't deny that so too was he correct in his assumptions. Why would Ignacio allow the king that lead his herd destroy it? Surely the Smoldering Sun would come to Aodh's rescue then? Why did this foul noble inspire him so? At least he inspired Runt more than the other one who spoke next [Lux]. It made Runt feel a little ill. Was Isador really that great and terrible, with or without a wyvern? Would he really not bat an eye at the deaths of thousands, even just one? Runt couldn't help but shiver that time. He couldn't understand the politics behind the words, but he was sure that Lux wasn't calling for such a thing, but bringing to light the danger behind what they were doing. As if Runt didn't even know. And as if that realization wasn't shocking enough, the stallion spoke up about how Alya had come to help against the Heralds, not Ignacio. Runt decided the rest of the conversation was getting quite unnerving, and he shifted his weight as he fought to block the rest out. But his own curiosity won out, and he was left feeling that much more uneasy. Caron spoke up once more, offering a new perspective in regards to Gods protecting the Herds. Surely if it is true that Alya protected those in Opulence, then it would also be truth that Ignacio would step in if it came down to it. He supposed that was the idea that he would have to believe him. Cascades blessing felt warm in his chest, lacking any sort of use since his bondage. Perhaps the Wave Mother would also help... Caron suggested a removal of the monarchy and instead replace it with a Council; that would allow less control by one horse and let the voice of many be magnified. It was a lot to think about. Far too much for a brain too used to hard labor and not enough schooling. Luckily Caron brought the conversation back full circle; to find out the truth. Yet another Flamen stepped out to reveal themselves [Misti], which further heartened Runt. She nodded to him when she practically announced she believed his words, which caused him to dip his head respectfully to her in return. But the following question was too difficult for him to answer, so he continued to stay silent. |
POST COUNT: 3 ♦ WORD COUNT: 1129
MENTIONS: Delta, Rosalba, Jessiah, Caron, Kaspar, Tesana, Sunny, Adonis, Lux, Misti
INTERACTIONS: Delta, Rosalba |
|
|
|
Post by moonlightwalk on Jan 27, 2021 15:23:05 GMT -6
Leonora | Peacmaker
Leonora was out for a night in town. Or well, what had been planned as a night out but was off to a dreary start. In Sedo she had always appreciated the rain and she supposed she still did, but it had something unpleasant the rains at home never quite brought along. Out in humid winds and creeping darkness, it was almost unwelcoming rather a breath of fresh air. She decided to seek refuge in a local pub. It was after all an interesting place to relax as well as mingle with the locals and with drinks making lips more loose than usual it was as good a way as any to subtly gather more information about the herd she was stationed in. She loved gossip after.
Tonight, it seemed however, was not a night of cozy conversations. A bouncer already had her identify herself -something that seemed quite odd to her, considering at home everyone just came and went- and as she entered the pub the atmosphere was... tense. Not necessarily unwelcoming though, but a bit strange. She didn’t let it hold her back though. Her people were being gathered ready to be sent home or already on their way. Things were looking up and Alya might strike her from the sky if she did not take and celebrate those small wins. Walking over to the bar she smiled at some horses in passing, wishing them a pleasant evening and ordered something cold to drink. It was rather warm after all and she needed something to wet her throat if she was going to be chatting.
Post 1 | 267 words
|
|
