Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on May 24, 2017 10:51:08 GMT -6
The search went on for days. In an attempt to bring Vidar --and his ever-more radical philosophies-- back into the fold of Bloody Flank tradition, Gidal had made some changes. Ansgar, his oldest son, his most steadfast, his most loyal, would be named the Trespasser's new captain when the ship returned from its long voyage south, and Vidar's sister Astrid was to be married, sent away as part of a treaty with an Onean ship-maker whose handiwork would restore the Bloody Flank fleet to glory. It was a fine plan, a strategic step towards the Flank's continued stability and growing power.Until Astrid was gone. Hearing the news of her father's negotiations the very night before her wedding, she took her young handservant Gosslyn and escaped into the wasteland that separates Ghosthold from the world. Even in the summertime, the snow revealed evidence of intruders, whose hoofprints engulfed the tracks left by the young mares, and whisked all traces of them off to the south. A week of searching and tracking uncovered Astrid's flower crown, half-crushed into the mud and slush. The hoofprints vanished into the rocky trail to Onea. She was gone, taken by faceless marauders, and spirited away to a continent where merely existing is a death sentence for a Bloody Flank. Gidal called off the hunt, prepared Ghosthold to receive the Trespasser and its life-saving bounty of supplies from Aquore. As always, he tried to focus on the future, on who was left.
THE BLOODY FLANKS DIVERGENCE PLOT This plot is not an official Starborn mini-event. there are no Favor or CS rewards for participation, but all Bloody Flanks are encouraged to join this thread. The outcome will determine your Bloody Flank character's place in the upcoming chapter.
There is no posting order, but there is a maximum word count of 500 to keep things speedy. :')
THE SCENE: The Trespasser is returning from the events of Chapter 3, with a hull full of goods from the south, including the fortune's worth of opium stolen from the Aodh merchant ship. Ansgar and his crew have been told that they are to take control of the Trespasser as soon as its vital cargo is unloaded.
Setting: "the Socket", the harbor at Ghosthold. Daytime. Overcast.
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IMPORTANT: other than the Raiders, who were conducting a covert search, most of the clan is under the impression that Astrid was found shortly after running away, and is safely with her husband in the south. Gidal, Ansgar, horses in the Raider rank and maybe Elder's Circle members are the only ones who know that Astrid is still missing.
Recommended reading: AT THE HELM [Bloody Flank plot] |
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on May 24, 2017 13:12:19 GMT -6
vidar I FEEL THE HEAT OF A THOUSAND BREATHS UPON MY NECK
AND THE GAZE OF A THOUSAND EYES BURNING HOLES INTO MY BACK The deck of the Trespasser was manic with activity as the massive ship made anchor. Vidar noticed as he steered into the bay that Ghosthold's pier had been improved in the six months since they'd seen it; an impressive new dock awaited them, constructed from huge timbers retrieved from the forests of Sirith. As his crew began to tether the ship, he made his way down the lowered ramp toward the hubbub ashore.
Something was immediately wrong. The clan had gathered to see their raiders home, as always, but behind the joyous children bouncing his way, there was a wall of drawn faces. Not a one of those faces belonged to Astrid. He abandoned his oversight of the landing and came to stand on the pier.
After months on the ship, Vidar's knees swayed on the solid ground. His eyes darted down the shoreline for his sister. He felt sick.
His intense expression caught Vladimir's eye, then his concern. Vidar left the ship to Alcippe, and stumbled for land. The clan's excited youngsters sped past him to interrogate the raiders about their adventures, but Vidar kept his eyes on Ansgar. His brother stood at Gidal's side, the pair of them like mountains, and Vidar could tell by their stony faces that they knew what he wanted.
Gidal parted his lips to speak when his son drew near, but Vidar cut him off. "What did you do?" he demanded of Ansgar, and Gidal's mouth hardened into a severe line. "Where is she?"
"Enough." There was never room in Gidal's tone for negotiation. Vidar settled into his heels, nostrils flared. Though momentarily cowed by his father, Vidar watched Ansgar with ire. "Astrid has been married." Gidal said, and it was perhaps the one sentence that could have peeled Vidar's gaze from his brother.
His eyes drifted to his father's face as Gidal continued to speak. "She and her husband live south. There will be a caravan that way at summer's end. You can visit her then." Bare, brutal phrasing was Gidal's signature method of conversation. It left Vidar unable to move as Gidal walked past him with purpose.
The clan leader's voice lifted over the crowd: "Take the cargo to the Ghost Hall!" Gidal boomed, commanding the Bloody Flanks both on board and ashore. Vidar could hear the flurry of activity on the pier double, the creak of the Trespasser straining against her ties, the water on the new dock's sturdy supports.
Vladimir's telepathic voice, quiet as a leaf falling, pierced the din: He's lying.
Vidar's sabre sang as it scraped free of its scabbard, its golden blade sick in the gloomy light of Ghosthold. The sound of it drew Gidal's eye back over his shoulder. He turned his head in time to see Vidar twirl the weapon at his side, stance ready to move on Ansgar. "I'll give you one chance to tell me the truth."
Gidal met Ansgar's eyes for only a moment, and turned his back. 497 words | post 2 hi this is my friend Vidar, he's really emotionally stable |
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on May 24, 2017 13:29:08 GMT -6
ANSGAR He had forced himself to move on from Astrid's disappearance. The realization that they had lost a very useful ally in the wake of her utter selfishness and immaturity struck him hard, but perhaps not as hard as losing her. He led as many search parties as he possibly could in hopes that he could find her - not able to shake away the ever growing sense that this was his fault.He had to stop himself from protesting when his father called off the search.Ansgar had always tried to be Gidal's shadow, and watching him during this time - stoic, unmoving, always looking ahead instead of behind - Ansgar knew he must be the same way, no matter his personal convictions.He waited by Gidal's side, watching as the Trespasser docked and the Clan swarmed to approach Vidar and his crew. The arrival of his brother was not something Ansgar was particularly looking forward to, but he knew it must be done. Immediately Vidar's face broke through the crowd, and the anger is his eyes was undeniable. The abrupt accusation scarcely made Ansgar blink - however - the blatant disrespect towards Gidal did garner furrowed brows. His father intercepted harshly, not allowing the conversation to go further as he offered Vidar his well conceived lie.Ansgar's face offered no indication of their deception, and he kept his gaze on his brother, perhaps as a way to coax him into acceptance. He knew Vidar would be infuriated regardless - Astrid was gone - but the truth would only enrage him further. It was a burden neither of them wished to carry at the moment.He was resolute as Gidal began to leave, and truthfully he was quite ready to take after his father when Vidar spoke, or rather - like the petulant child he was - drew his sword.Ansgar's eyes found Gidal's for a brief moment before the former scowled, ears flattening as he turned back to his brother. He cared little for the reason as to how Vidar knew - and assumed it was simply his instinctual suspicion for everything anyone ever said to him.Ansgar wouldn't crack."Do as you are bid, Vidar. Stop acting like a child and put the damn sword away." _________________
1 | 368 |
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on May 24, 2017 13:45:39 GMT -6
vidar I FEEL THE HEAT OF A THOUSAND BREATHS UPON MY NECK
AND THE GAZE OF A THOUSAND EYES BURNING HOLES INTO MY BACK So that's how Ansgar was going to play this.
Vidar's mind sped, as if often did in critical moments. Typically it wasn't difficult for him to have a thousand solutions to any given problem, but he couldn't keep his thoughts on track. Any whisper of a practical strategy was shot through by a bolt of terrible truth: Astrid was gone.
She was gone, and Ansgar was burying her.
He looked in Ansgar's eyes, studying his face like he had on this very shore six months prior. They'd exchanged difficult truths, then, opened up old wounds to share stories. He thought they had built some understanding despite being the fortresses Gidal had made of each of them, but now Vidar felt that bridge turn to ash in his grasp. They'd cracked open their ribs to show each other what was inside, and it seemed Ansgar had merely been looking for the best place to stick a knife.
"Draw your weapon." Vidar's voice was even, quiet, a warning. He felt a shroud falling over him.
After that, he let the peace last only a moment, lunging with a low lateral slash of his blade.
Ansgar didn't want to listen, so Vidar would speak the only language the Bloody Flanks seemed to understand. 209 words | post 3
THIS THREAD IS NOW OPEN
Your Bloody Flank characters have several options:- Follow the orders of the clan leader Gidal, and begin to remove the Trespasser's goods - Notice the conflict between the captains, and defend the Trespasser from boarders - Aid one of the captains in battle - Come up with a response all your own!! Please keep posts under 500 words, and allow 2 people to post between your turns.
PM franknsteins with any questions! |
|
|
|
Post by fynli on May 24, 2017 14:55:08 GMT -6
ODINA
She was by her mother with the others as the clan eagerly awaited the arrival of the Trespasser. Astrid's absence was a sore one, that was for sure. If she had to be completely honest with herself, Odina found that she never really cared for her younger siblings; however, Astrid was just a child. So young to be shipped off and married.
Odina shook her head to clear her thoughts, reminding herself to stay steady. Her ruby eyes trained on the crowd clamoring around the dock, thirsty to hear of the raiders' adventures. A small smile found its way to her lips. It was refreshing to see such excitement and activity among the clan after so long of being left in the dark. She had to appreciate her younger brother for accomplishing such a feat.
Speaking of him, she spotted him on the pier, feeling her gut twist as she noticed the look on his face. He knew.
Odina held her gaze on Vidar like a hawk, watching him approach her father and brother. Ears strained forward to hopefully catch some of the words being exchanged between them. Gidal lifted his head and commanded the entire clan to help with the cargo, Tyra moving from her daughter's side to help but Odina stayed still. She still watched. Waiting.
Vidar drew his sword and Odina started, a loud gasp slipping from her. "No!" She turned on her heels to race down and stop them, only to have her mother darting in and blocking her path. "He might kill him!" She protested, pinning her ears back. Her desperate gaze was only met by the steely blue of her mother's.
"Don't be foolish, whatever is going on will be settled quickly," Tyra's voice was quiet and solemn. The old mare's words were met with a noise of indignation from Odina, as the girl had seen Vidar take down one of their brother's just for a bride. She'd seen it done before, what would stop him from doing it again?
Odina cast her gaze back to her brothers, worry seeping into her expression. She knew her brother was strong, both of them were. However, she most certainly did not want to see this continued. Snorting quietly at her mother, she side-stepped around her and drew closer. She would not interfere, but as Vidar lunged, she prayed to Kaia for them to see reason.
Words: 399
Post #1
|
|
|
|
Post by empyre on May 24, 2017 15:06:55 GMT -6
Sigyn || Scout
god damn right you should be scared of me Sigyn would be a liar if they said they weren't looking forward to returning to land after this journey. They loved the sea, but there were things on land, or rather people to be exact that they ached for dearly while away. All seemed to go as normal for a few minutes, the more stationary members of the herd coming to welcome home the ship's crew, and Sigyn hardly gave them a glance. Stein would not be among them, he would surely be waiting at home for them, his joints have been so bad lately...
Ears pricked at the order from Gidal to begin unloading the cargo, and Sigyn moved to follow them when their gaze was caught by a flash of gold. Vidar had drawn his weapon. Something was wrong. Without a moment's hesitation the flea bitten scout was racing across the deck, their uneven hoof-falls clattering loudly as they near-stumbled down the ramp and onto land.
"Vidar, Vlad!" They called out as they reached the two stallions just in time to witness Vidar striking out at Angsar. Cursing themself for leaving their weapons on the ship, while simultaneously wondering how effective their false hoof would be at causing blunt force trauma they took up a defensive stance, fixing a golden glare on the surrounding equine. Their tail lashed violently, ready to defend their captain even as they leaned over and mumbled to Vlad a quiet, "What exactly is going on, Vladdy? Why's the kid trying to turn his brother to mince meat?"
Post 1 || 268 words
(wasnt sure if we could interact with vlad, but i just went for it lmao)
|
|
|
|
Post by brandvandet on May 24, 2017 16:48:29 GMT -6
Cloaked in her matching pin-striped
Arsenal of next month's nows
On the whole, Alcippe did not enjoy returning to Ghosthold. There was a dampening over the area and over her friends as if all of them lived with shallow breath. The existence of the old guards of the Bloody Flanks made the exuberance of her generation suspect. Freedom was on the sea, borne on the same wind that filled their sails and brought them away to the Isles and the villages and ships that brought them bounty. There was little enough of an anchor for most of them here--their ties were to their captain instead of the herd. One or another had been liberated by him, from slave shackles or freed from the outdated expectations of the herd. It was his connection that brought them home each time. His acute sense of responsibility for the Flanks' future set their navigation home time and again. His tether drew the rest. His anchor kept the Trespasser's home at that wasteland. His heart brought them all back. That anchor, that responsibility centered on one person who refracted it to the rest of the clan. Like a prism, his devotion to her was spread to the others, even breaching Alcippe's standoffish affections. That person, bright as a lighthouse, brought them home each time. And today, Astrid wasn't there. This was the first and only time that had happened. Alcippe didn't have to be the tactician she was to note the absence ashore. She doubted there was a single crewmember that missed the import of such a homecoming. She didn't need Vladimir in her mind to know what he had told Vidar, she trusted him to have corrected him if the captain was wrong. She knew they were lying as soon as she heard the sword drawn. Gidal's orders rang and she readied herself. Vidar had given her the ship and she was not about to lose her. " Trespasser crew!" she shouted above the beginning clamor. "Protect your ship! At any cost." She knew what she was asking of them. She knew what price she'd be paying herself. Alcippe - Bloody Flanks - Raider
w | three hundred forty three - p | one |
|
|
|
Post by BlueUnicornJ13 on May 24, 2017 16:54:01 GMT -6
Aubrey | War-Forged | Bloody Flank Merchant
![]()
Today was the day that the Trespasser and its crew would be returning to the Bloody Flank camp, and the clan had rushed to the harbor to welcome them back home after their perilous journey to Aquore for much needed supplies from the bountiful and flourishing tropics. While the Trespasser had been away, Ghosthold and its crew had also been away on a separate mission. Aubrey wasn't one to get in the middle of things or listen to the drama that occasionally drifted into her workshop's doors, but the murmurings of what had happened to one of the leader's daughters affected the clan as a whole.
She had heard whispers that Astrid had been married off in some sort of arranged marriage to an Onean ship-maker which would inevitably increase the Bloody Flank's fleet, but while she had to admit the idea was a good one, it angered her to imagine such deeds were going on in the clan she had joined in hopes to escape these kinds of deeds. Aubrey had thought that the Bloody Flanks were different, that they believed in a more equal society were mares could make more of their own decisions instead of shipping them off to marry some big-headed stallion they didn't even know. The thought of it made her stomach churn, and she shook back memories of her own marriage that she had been lucky to escape in order to keep herself from becoming sick on some poor soul's hooves while they all waited for the Trespasser to anchor.
As the occupants of the ship spilled out, the captain was the first to depart, and as his hooves hit the hard rock, Aubrey couldn't focus on anything except the fiery anger in his eyes and the sword that Vidar drew from his side and pointed at his brother. To say that Aubrey was shocked would have been an understatement. She heard the gasps leave the horses around her as Vidar asked Ansgar to draw his weapon. Her heart hammered inside of her chest, and her leathery wings unfolded slightly, ready to lift her into the sky and away from this madness if danger were to come her way.
"What the hell is even going on?" The blacksmith muttered to herself, her eyes focused on the horses in front of her.
Word Count: 387 | Post #1
|
|
|
|
Post by PaganStars on May 24, 2017 17:15:37 GMT -6
Gentle wind buffeted against Lorian's bay coat, his only solace being the thin fabric that wound around his neck and shielded his eyes. The cold wasn't enough to get through his muscles and soak into his very core, but being near the open water always came with a bit of a chill. One just got used to it. Flicking his ears, Lorian focused on the soft tinkling that came from the gold strands around his neck; he wore his helmet, as usual, and one could easily distinguish him from the crowd. He had been told that the Trespasser would be returning on this day, and with the return of a ship and its crew came the usual cuts, colds and bruises that needed to be tended to. So Lorian stood and waited dutifully, head turning ever so often to get a glance at those around him; Ansgar and his father, along with numerous siblings. Excited children and scowling elders. All ready and waiting for their beloved Trespasser.
Soon enough the boat docked and Lorian slowly made his way through the crowd, most casting strange glances at him before scurrying out of his way unless they want their eyes gouged out by the metal adorning his head. He watched through a darkened gaze as the Captain practically fell from his ship, his brow raising slightly at such an undignified move. He hesitated for but a moment, watching the quick exchange between the Bloody Flank leader and his sons. Even with the clouds hanging threateningly above, Lorian caught the flash of gold as clear as day, his head snapping to the direction of the two siblings in an instant. He- he knew Ansgar could well take care of himself but none the less he felt his heartbeat quicken as his Captain was threatened.
"Oh dear," he breathed.
Lorian... Lorian has always been a follower in his life; he had followed his sister until she had been shipped away, had followed his mother until she passed and had even followed his father until the day that Lorian left him for dead. It was safe to say he had been lost before the Bloody Flanks, left to wander and wither. But now he had regained someone that he could turn to, someone who would not lead him astray.
Lorian would not let Ansgar die on this day.
Stiffening his neck, he tilted his head forward and pushed himself into a charge, golden helmet reflecting the sun for but a moment.
Post 1 | Word count 421
|
|
|
|
Post by Sargeant-Knoxx on May 24, 2017 17:23:22 GMT -6
![]() |S Y N N|
That morning had been surreal in a sense.. Empty, silent. Of course, beneath the stillness, beneath the uncertainty there was anticipation. A vibrating in the air that usually accompanied those returning ships, laden with hope, and dreams, among other things. Synn supposed that this time would be no different than the last.
She had only returned that morning. A pair of horses assisting her in unburdening her of the load of furs and leather that lay across her sling. She took a moment to rest and stow away whatever supplies she had brought back before a clamor arose from the heart of Ghosthold. The Trespasser's valiant red sails had been spotted. Vidar was home.
Synn's mind turned to her own captain, whom she'd yet to see since her return. Genuine excitement bubbled beneath the grey mare's hide at the thought of being reunited with those comrades. There would be celebrating tonight, and many drinks would be shared. The merry-making to come would be no different than any other Returning Feast. Synn departed from her hut, noting the throngs that had begun to make their way to the newly reconstructed Socket, Ghosthold's Harbor.
There was something on the wind however, as the great vessel made landing and Gidal gave the order for those present to unload the ship.. There was something missing. Something was wrong. Jade eyes began shifting over the crowd, finding the hulking form of the clan leader breaking away from a familiar painted coat. Ansgar. His back was to her, and as equines began moving to help unload the ship Synn began her descent with a quickness in her step. Mud clung to her hocks as she slid down, bearing witness as a very tense looking Vidar appraised his elder brother. "Ansgar!" Synn called to her captain anxious too for Vidar's tales, for the news that must've hung on his lips.
But the sharp ringing of a blade made Synn pause- the huntress watched on, the scars on her shoulders itching with a familiar heat.. But the stillness thawed, slowly at first- And then an avalanche.
A whisper passed between the brothers- and then movement. It all happened so fast, Synn hardly registered the fact that her legs were moving until bodies began to part or be pushed by her charging form. She didn't realize she was upon the brothers until her own voice rang in her ears and she came crashing into the thick of things. "STOP!" she roared. "DAMN YOU!" the mare bellowed, striking out with her cracked front hooves. Loyalty trumped tradition in that moment. Synn attempted to shield her friend and captain as Lorian joined the fray, madness and outraged in her narrowed green eyes..
|Post| 1
|WC| 446
|Notes| Injuries are welcome as long as they are not mortal. Feel free to shove her out of the way if your character's strength stats are par!  |
|
|
|
Post by data-bull on May 24, 2017 17:23:53 GMT -6
Rose
Rose, knowing full-well that a fight of this kind would ensue immediately upon the prodigal son's return, had prepared ahead of time. Two separate beds had been set aside just in case; in buildings on the opposite sides of Ghosthold, of course. When Vidar drew his weapon and poised it to strike at Ansgar she merely snorted and shook her head. The younger would not back down until he was given the answer he desired, and the elder would not stand for such petulant disobedience; thus was their relationship, and the best they could do was speak through strikes of bladesong.
Still, this would be no bloodbath if she had anything to say for it. She would not be playing nursemaid for the entire clan; their resources were far too few and precious to waste on fools.
"Any who draw their weapons in either brother's defense, know this:", she bellowed so all might be warned, "you'll receive no aid from the medics for your wounds. I'll make sure of it."
Her gaze found Lorian and Faraji. relaying the seriousness of her threat. Gidal's sons would be tended to, but no others so long as she lived and breathed. And if any had the gall to oppose her, she would meet them halfway: with them on the ground and her hooves poised to strike at their softparts.
And so, when Synn charged forward she merely sighed and looked on; only Kaia's grace could save her now. |
|
|
|
Post by Mad-Manx on May 24, 2017 18:05:34 GMT -6
Ualda | Mare | Merchant Ualda stood apart from her siblings and family, making final preparations with a band of fellow merchants for the influx of resources they would no doubt receive upon the Trespasser's return. Inventory had to be cleared and sorted, and although she held no official rank, a good deal of the others looked to her for the inevitable organizational duties that followed such a task. Admittedly she did not mind the distraction, the work all but completely consuming her focus as she did her best not to pay heed to the events of the previous days, in addition to the fallout that would surely follow Vidar's return. She had not meant to harm Astrid. She had certainly not meant to play a part in her sudden disappearance, unable to stop a twinge of guilt from piercing her gut when the thoughts of the previous days entered her mind. Ualda had done the right thing, seeking out a politically and financially suitable match for the clan, of that she did not doubt. She had even done her best to seek out a mate that had an upstanding reputation within their herd, made certain sweet Astrid would not be condemned to a marriage riddled with abuse. Protest against such a plan was to be expected, that both Ualda and Gidal had expected, but to go as far as disappear into the depths of the night? That... Well that was simply not a situation she had planned for. It brought with it it's own set of complications, including apologizing profusely to Astrid's would-be husband, who's family was less than pleased by the sudden change of their agreement. The details of such contract would have to be brokered again another day, for as of now another complication had to be dealt with and that would be the temper of her returned brother, Vidar. As though the very thought of the necromancer had summoned his presence, Ualda caught wind of a sudden commotion by the docks. Those around her gave pause at the garbled sounds that echoed beyond the walls of the stockrooms, and with a simple command of "keep working", Ualda took her leave, an expression devoid of emotion plastered across her muzzle. An all too common trait in the family, some might argue. The source of the commotion became all too apparent as Ualda approached the docks on swift hooves, demanding passage when crowds became too thick to navigate. The Trespasser stood proud in the background, her crew braced and rather obviously agitated, silhouetting the sight of her brothers standing before them. The glint of a blade drew her attention immediately, and with a near growl echoing at the back of her throat, Ualda continued to push herself through the depths of the crowd. Count on her damn Raider brothers to make a bad situation worse. Post 1 :: 472 Words
|
|
|
|
Post by Ehrendi on May 24, 2017 18:29:36 GMT -6
Faraji | Bloody Flank Medic
The Trespasser was abuzz with activity. The crew worked diligently to prepare the ship for a safe landing. Faraji could hear their shouts from below deck, the creak of wood boards under hoof and the general hubbub of sound she associated with landing. Setting down the jar of salve she was holding, she tried to push back her excitement that always came with docking and focused her attention on the young raider in front of her. "You need to take it easy, that wound isn't going to heal itself." Her voice was firm, firmer than usual since she knew she wasn't the only one feeling the buzz of excitement. "I mean it, I need you returning to this ship healthy." The raider agreed quickly - far too quickly for Faraji's liking - and before she could say anything more, they were out the door. She sighed, packing her supplies into a nearby saddlebag. Slipping it over her shoulder, she followed after the raider and headed up onto the deck.
The air was fresh and much colder than it was below deck. Faraji shivered, but continued across the deck until she was peering over the rails at the crowd of Bloody Flanks. Down below on the docks, Faraji could see that Vidar was already off the ship, as were some of the crew as they prepared to unload the ship. Faraji was about to turn and assist when she spotted the flash of a familiar gold sword drawn at Vidar's side. Tensions arose in the crowd and Faraji took a moment to see who was in the crowd...and who wasn't.
Alcippe's voice cut through her like a knife, confirming her sudden suspicions and Faraji steeled herself for what was to come. She had not spent six months with the Trespasser Crew for nothing. She knew these horses, as they knew her and they had become akin to a family to her. 'So much for getting off this ship,' she thought with a wry smile. She knew what was at stake, what it would mean if she turned her back on Gidal, but Faraji could not turn her back on her crew and besides, she still owed it to Vidar. Without him, Faraji would have been stuck somewhere in Onea trying to please a Raider who already had one too many wives. That was no life. Her expression grew serious as she gazed across the docks, her stance firm as she remained on the ship. Her position was clear.
Post #1
Word count: 416
Hello this is poop. Don't mind me.
|
|
|
|
Post by hey-stardust on May 24, 2017 20:58:10 GMT -6
⎈
1 | 367
VIDALIA | BLOODY FLANKS | RAIDER
Though she would go where she was bid, Vidalia carried the same mixed sentiments the rest of the crew did about returning home; there was some comfort to be had in reunions, but they were about as fleeting as even the most violent of storms. It never took her long to become restless at shore, pacing the frozen wastelands with a nomadic mind that churned like sea foam, begging for them to leave this place once more. Her unease only grew when it became clear something was wrong as the Trespasser drew within sight of the harbor, for Vidar’s posture stiffened and his demeanour grew cold, uncharacteristic enough for Vidalia to look for answers, eyeing Vladimir and Alcippe in turn.
Vidar had barely waited for the ropes to tighten as the ship reached port before disembarking, unsteady legs carrying him straight towards what one would hesitantly call, family. The mule stiffened, freezing in place as she listened to the terse exchange.
The beacon that always called the captain home was gone, taken from him when his back was turned, and far from her side. Sacrifices were a given amongst them, the once broken herd had been built upon them after all... but certain gazes did not meet up with the captain’s accusatory one, nor did their words.
As blades began to sing from their sheaths, Alcippe’s orders broke through the mule's trance, and suddenly she was on the move, sourcing her hammer within seconds, a faint trickle of gold telekinesis surrounding and reflecting off the weapon as she pulled it in close to her side. Inhaling deeply as her heartbeat began to race at the perceived threat, Vidalia moved towards the ramp and descended, launching off it as soon as the dock was in reach, cloven hooves splaying to take the weight as she landed.
It only took three breaths for her to reach the pair, and only one to swing her hammer at Ansgar's side.
Vidalia's heart grew heavy at the thought of her beloved clan becoming divided even as she struck, but a side had been chosen the moment she lifted her weapon.
The Trespasser was nothing without her captain, after all.
Strength: 80 (+15) | Wisdom: 0
[25/5/17, 4:03:45 pm] bloody frank:
Odina: we have to de-escalate this situation Lay waste the relics, silence the hymns of deceit. |
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on May 24, 2017 21:14:01 GMT -6
ANSGAR
Ansgar never expected that Vidar would actually hit him.
Though barely audible - he gasped. A pause, and then an exhale as he registered what just occurred. The shock was apparent in his eyes, and a fleeting wince showcased the physical pain of the wound. The blade had not cut too deep, but Ansgar knew that it would leave its mark - that it would leave Vidar's mark.
Ansgar drew his own sword in an instant, crimson eyes blazing as the stinging in his chest intensified with every move he made. Before he had the chance to retaliate, two more bodies jumped into the fray - and he was momentarily pleased by their presence.
That feeling - however - was gone as fast as it came. This most certainly wasn't their fight, and Synn's words made his eyes narrow.
"Leave us." His voice was low, resolute, furious - there was no room for a discussion with the command. His anger was not directed at his comrades, but rather the being they were blocking from him.
It seems, however, that they could not block him from everyone.
Vidalia's hammer swung and met its target - the blow wasn't enough to completely debilitate the captain, but he was winded - and enraged. He stumbled, knocked off balance and struggling to catch his breath. His mind, racing with a million thoughts and yet utterly blank all at the same time - all he could process was that he was attacked by his own Clanmate, his own friend.
He hadn't even regained his proper footing when he lashed back. Anger clouded his judgment and he drew his sword down on her - though his aim was utter shit due to the state he was in, he knew he had hit her - specifically, right under her eye. He didn't have time to assess the damage done as he began to back away slightly, gaze flickering back to Vidar as he steadied himself._________________
2 | 319 |
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on May 24, 2017 23:39:46 GMT -6
vidar I FEEL THE HEAT OF A THOUSAND BREATHS UPON MY NECK
AND THE GAZE OF A THOUSAND EYES BURNING HOLES INTO MY BACK The blood on Vidar's blade surprised them both. Gidal had hard-wired his sons to express themselves in combat, and through Vidar's life, Ansgar had remained one of his few brothers who had never struck him. With tightness in his chest, Vidar remembered the brothers who had tried to end him on the Trespasser's maiden voyage, and the bodies he had left bobbing in the sea. He thought of Ingmar, that tyrant and fiend who had died for Alcippe, and he thought of Ansgar. Ansgar had always disapproved of such violence, and even though Vidar knew the contempt his brother had for him, he knew Ansgar was sworn to keep the clan united.
Vidar watched a thin trickle of blood cross the white crescent of fur on Ansgar's breast. He felt something in the universe change, something that could not be changed back.
He met Ansgar's eyes and for a flicker, was unsure. Something was on his face (a mistake? an apology?) until Ansgar drew his own weapon. The sound of steel being freed reminded Vidar of his purpose. He twirled the gold saber and visualized the next moments.
Thundering hooves stole his attention, however; two of the Abaddon's raiders --Lorian and Synn; he knew them well, as he did every Flank-- were approaching from the side, and just as he was about to reposition himself, Ansgar called them off. Bodies were closing in on the situation from all sides now, and Vidar kept his gaze active, leaping around and past Ansgar to stay alert. Even so, he didn't see Vidalia coming.
Her hammer landed with a fleshy thud, stunning Vidar. "Vidalia!" he began, a black feeling growing in his stomach. She was one of his youngest but most fearsome raiders, fished from captivity, still the object of Vidar's protectiveness and --
He could do nothing but watch.
Ansgar was on her like a grizzly, his sword biting her skin. Vidar shouted at Ansgar's turned back, a wordless cry of grief he couldn't control, and checked the larger stallion's shoulder with his own. He bounced off, but gained Ansgar's attention.
Gidal was growing tired. "Raiders!" He bellowed, his eyes on Synn and Lorian. "Secure that ship." Gidal didn't tolerate mutiny in any degree.
Vidar knew this. "Vidalia." He sounded gentle but urgent. "You can't let them." She had to get away. A glance showed Alcippe strong at the helm. The crowd was choking Vidar. Where was Vladimir?
The weight of Ansgar's stare drew him back in, and he circled, like a lion. After months at sea the ground felt too hard, and like it was coming up to meet his soles too soon. His steps were heavy and deliberate. Speed was his best weapon. "I believed you," his voice ached. He glimpsed Vidalia's blood on the ground, and snarled into a lunge, his blade attacking furiously, successively, and without tact. He was trying to overwhelm, drive Ansgar back. "All the bullshit you fed me about him, then you do this." 499 words | post 4 |
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on May 24, 2017 23:42:20 GMT -6
Summary of this round:
Vidar drew his sword on Ansgar, demanding the truth about Astrid's whereabouts, and giving him a shallow cut across the chest when Ansgar dismissed him. On her mother's orders, a worried Odina stopped herself from intervening to prevent further bloodshed, while a distressed Lorian and a newly-returned Synn charged to Ansgar's aid.
Aubrey had been struggling with Astrid's circumstances, and was startled out of her forge by the fighting. Rose and Ualda were also drawn out to observe the ruckus. Ualda felt pangs of guilt for arranging Astrid's marriage and shoved her way to the front of the crowd, while an irate Rose assured any would-be fighters that they would be refused medical treatment for intervening.
On the Trespasser, Alcippe ordered that the crew remain fast, and defend against any Bloody Flanks who would board the ship on Gidal's command. Sigyn watched with worry as the situation on shore escalated, and Faraji stoically defended the ship, feeling intense loyalty to her crew.
Vidalia, however, took matters into her own hooves. Grabbing her warhammer, she rushed to Vidar's aid and delivered a blow to Ansgar that knocked the wind out of him. Ansgar ordered his crewmembers out of his way and executed a dizzied counterattack on Vidalia.
Vidar, seeing one of his crewmembers harmed, advanced on Ansgar, attacking furiously with his sword. Gidal ordered raiders and bystanders to take command of the Trespasser as its crew bordered on mutiny against the clan.
|
|
|
|
Post by Sargeant-Knoxx on May 25, 2017 1:50:47 GMT -6
![]() |S Y N N|
Her crest bristled and Synn let her teeth show in a primal display, eyes locked on the colorful younger captain. The entitled welp.. Dark nostrils flared as the scent of blood suddenly hit her sensitive nose, a quick glance back and her shock turned to anger.. Ansgar had been cut. It was merely a flesh wound, but still.. Brothers fought and blood was often shed- that was true, and no truer words could be said for the sons of clan leader Gidal- but on what grounds did Vidar stand to lay a hand on her captain? Without provocation?!
What madness was this?
A furious and curt growl from her superior caused Synn to retract slightly, her scarred head bowing and her gnarled ears laying back at her mentor's demand to move aside. They may of been the same age, but Synn respected Ansgar for his greater wisdom. She respected him for his sense of honor even more- which he seemed hell-bent on upholding at the cost of his life just now. Or more likely, it'd be the life of his younger. Synn began to retreat, stepping to the side as the crowd thrummed with tension and horses began to move towards the now armed and defensive Trespasser. Those jade eyes briefly caught Ansgar's fiery glare before they re centered on his opponent.. That was until a blur of grey came barreling down the dock and swung herself and her weapon full force at the elder son of Gidal.
Vidalia, was foolish.
In that precise moment in time Synn was not sure if she wanted to whisk the young horse out of the fight and defend her from the coming hurricane or beat her into the mud for her stupidity and pray to the Goddesses that sense came from the experience. Regardless, what action had been made could not be undone. Dally's strike hit home, knocking Ansgar off his balance and Synn swore she heard every ounce of breath get knocked from his lungs before he viciously and quickly retaliated. His strike was sloppy, as to be expected, but it glanced off Vidalia's face before the fighting began again. Synn felt the eyes of Gidal on her nape and his booming voice in her bones but little of that mattered- Vidalia had been struck.
Synn quickly gripped the young creature's crest in her teeth as she would have when she was younger- though the older mare was much less gentle now as Synn practically slung the girl to her opposing side, making a barrier between the now warring stallions and the bleeding mule. Synn hissed low, scarcely able to hide the concern in her voice. "Foolish girl.. Curse your courage." Synn moved her roughly, farther from the brewing storm. Vidar was urgent in his demands, and despite knowing that the captain cared for his youngest crew member, Synn wished to lash out at him for even allowing Dally to put herself in harm's way. Damn him.
|Post| 2
|WC| 495 (cutting it close much?)
|Notes| Honestly, Synn can't even be mad, she essentially did the same thing for Ansgar just then- but momma-bear ain't having none this shit. |
|
|
|
Post by ebbarie on May 25, 2017 2:27:07 GMT -6
Calder | Bloody Flanks | Elder's Circle
I've got blood, I've got blood on my name
when the fires, when the fires
are consuming you
and your sacred stars won't be guiding you
I've got blood, I've got blood
blood on my name
The sharp and icy wind tugged at him but today he didn’t felt the cold bite of it. His eye directed at the ship on the horizon.
He was not alone at the pier. Almost the whole clan was gathered, as always when the Trespasser returned from their journey. It was something to celebrate, but not this day.
He had watched the majority of the Clanmates around him growing up, or at least their way from the moment they joined the Clan.
Calder had an idea of what could happen when Vidor learned about Astrid, but in the end even he was surprised how fast the situation escalated.
One of his ears moved backwards to catch the words of one of the medics. Rose issued a threat, and the stallion was completely concerned that she really meant it. Her try to prevent what was coming was in vain. The two brothers crossed swords and now other horses jumped into action as well.
Calder still hesitated to do anything until Gidal shouted his commands. Slowly the elderly captain started to move. His movement looked a little stiff, for he still hasn't fully recovered from the Valkyrie’s attack. Getting old was definitely no fun at all.
His attention focused on the ship. The fight between the two captains was something he wouldn’t intervene, but he would follow his leader’s command.
One quick glance showed him the determination in the faces of Vidar’s crew members. He knew them all. Alcippe. Faraji. And many others. All young, and fiercely loyal. There was the problem. The young generation was without doubt loyal, but more towards Vidar, a single horse, rather than the clan. Calder couldn’t blame them. It was important that the crew supported it’s captain at every cost. But he would do his utmost to protect the clan, and Gidal’s values.
He merely ignored the fight around him and addressed his words only to the crew that was still on the ship.
“You all know that this is badly wrong. Don’t take part in that bloodshed between kin. Leave the ship and get some sanity into your captain.” he called out to them. His voice was stern and bleak and his one eye glanced around the crew members.
|
|
|
|
Post by Darkrise on May 25, 2017 4:44:05 GMT -6
Syidae doesnt really do much other than watch, stuck between obeying her Clan Leader and siding with Vidar.  Tension hung in a cloud over the dock, suffocating and heavy, as expectant eyes watched the Trespasser dock. Where the gleam of celebratory happiness normally shone in the awaiting oculars there was instead unease. The clan was small and word had quickly spread among its members of Astrid’s marriage so it was no wonder that everyone waited with bait breath to see Vidar’s homecoming.
Nevertheless when tension erupted into aggression the Scout, Syidae, was shocked to see how quickly clan member turned on clan member. Syidae had had no part in Astrid’s marriage and consequent disappearance so what little she knew was from everyone else. However it didn’t stop her from privately disagreeing with the Clan Leader’s actions. The only experience the roaned mare had had of arranged marriages was that of her parents, an edgy companionship that resulted only sadness so it was not hard for Ida to decide she disagreed with Gidal’s decision. But he was the leader and she a mere scout, it was not her place to question.
Drawing in with the crowd that circled around Vidar and Ansgar the blue-grey femme slunk between the equines, lilac eyes watchful as her thoughts raced. On the one hoof, Syidae was loyal to her clan, her family. But on the other, she was young member who agreed more with the more liberal, modern views of Vidar and his crew. She kept her peace, watching and waiting, slender yet muscular body quivering with tension as she waited for the storm to explode.
|
|
|
|
Post by PaganStars on May 25, 2017 7:35:21 GMT -6
Lorian's split hooves cracked the ground as he skidded to a halt a few feet away from his captain, Synn not to far away. He spared her a glance, his heartbeat thundering in his chest as he looked on at the brewing battle, tension building in the air and sending shivers cascading up and down Lorian's spine. Ansgar's sharp command cut through the air and almost caused Lorian to jump, head snapping back to his captain. Of course, Ansgar could handle his brother, he had proved that the night they had met the Valkyries. He would-
Lorian's eyes widened but a fraction as the hammer met its match and sent Ansgar stumbling. Lorian felt his blessing bubble under his skin but what could he do with it? Summon a gull to peek out Vidar or Vidalia's eyes? He had always considered his blessing a great gift but now the heavenly ability felt like dead weight under his skin. Stepping back, Lorian's long tail lashed out in anger, his jaw tensing.
He had three options; Obeying the clan leader, obey his captain...or run. Lorian would not run, he had been done running for a long time. Turning with a jump, he faced the horse that Synn had driven back, head lowered threateningly as he advanced forward with the older mare. The fight belonged to the brothers, something that felt almost like a tradition now, and Lorian would do his best to make sure that his Captain had the advantage.
Post 2 | Word count 255 |
|
|
|
Post by brandvandet on May 25, 2017 8:52:56 GMT -6
Cloaked in her matching pin-striped
Arsenal of next month's nows
In the aftermath of her orders, she saw shifts play across her crewmates as they made their choices. Vidalia at once ran for Ansgar and a piece of Alcippe wanted to run with her. They'd fought alone and together many times but there was a part of the Raider that wanted to show their synergy off here--at the clan where they were tolerated at best. Let them see the damage the women could do. It was a childish thought and quickly dismissed in a cheer as Vidalia's hammer struck home. Alcippe couldn't leap off the deck and fly into the fray. She needed to lead. She needed to defend. She exchanged a smile with Faraji, sharp as the blades being drawn all over the deck. Her own pink teke grabbed up her warhammer from the deck as she directed crewmembers to defend boarding points. In between breaths, she shot thoughts at Vladimir, needing to know what was going on. "They're lying," was the answer from the terse-even-with-telepathy enforcer. "They don't know where she is. They think she's dead." Alcippe had kept going through many blows, often taking hit after hit when pursuing a cargo or cutting down a crew--but that made her stumble. She met Faraji's eyes and the smile on her face turned to untempered anger. "Astrid's gone," she whispered to the other woman. Calder chose that moment to make his appeal and she turned to face him. He was right, it was wrong. All of this was wrong. But it was not a nightmare of the Tresspasser's making. Not yet. They bought this coming hell with their lies and their stupidity. They bought this with Astrid's life and she would make them pay for it. Calder received no more response than a snarl down her scarred nose to his belated attempts at diplomacy. "THEY'RE LYING." Her voice rang out over Ghosthold, amplified by her blessing. "ASTRID IS GONE AND THEY'RE LYING LIKE COWARDS. THEY THINK SHE IS AS GOOD AS DEAD BUT YET THEY ARE HERE, TAKING THE SHIP FROM THE ONE WHO HAS HELPED YOU THRIVE." Alcippe - Bloody Flanks - Raider
w | three hundred fifty - p | two |
|
|
|
Post by BlueUnicornJ13 on May 25, 2017 9:07:07 GMT -6
Aubrey | War-Forged | Bloody Flank Merchant
As the shock of situation subsided, it was replaced by tension and an inkling of fear that caused her breathe to leave her in a ragged sigh. What was happening to her clan? She'd seen disputes among the ranks before, but it had been settled swiftly and without much damage to the clan as a whole, but never before had she witnessed two captains in such a heated dispute. It made the gears of her mind turn, trying to think of what would make Vidar livid enough to draw his weapon on his own brother.
After going on a mission with Ansgar, Aubrey had learned things about the seemingly stoic and strong captain that she hadn't thought she would see in someone so revered for their strength and leadership qualities. She had seen his rashness and anger bubble forth as he stole that grey, War-forged mare from her fellow herders to take her back to the clan. It had been foolish in Aubrey's opinion to take a prisoner when they had successfully taken so many (and much more valuable) goods than a lowly herder, and what respect she had had for him had been diminished to a speck of what it once was. 'Perhaps Ansgar did something else trivial... but what would it have to be to make Vidar want to fight him over it?'
Her thoughts were interrupted as horses from the crowd and ships spilled forward to protect their captains. Her pink eyes widened at the sight of Vidalia swinging her war-hammer toward Ansgar and hitting her target with a strong blow that surely would leave a mark. 'Raiders! Secure that ship!' Gidal shouted over the ruckus to which horses from the crowd began to respond.
The merchant mare shrunk back, and her ears strained forward to try to hear what the brothers were saying as Vidar circled Ansgar. She needed to know what was happening before she made any course of action. She owed the Bloody Flanks her life but that didn't mean that Aubrey would be too scared to fight for what she believed in as she had done for years.
It was then a booming voice erupted from one of the ships, causing Aubrey to wince and turn to see Alcippe shouting from the ship's deck. "THEY'RE LYING. ASTRID IS GONE AND THEY'RE LYING LIKE COWARDS. THEY THINK SHE IS AS GOOD AS DEAD BUT YET THEY ARE HERE, TAKING THE SHIP FROM THE ONE WHO HAS HELPED YOU THRIVE." That was all Aubrey had to hear.
Her leathery wings opened with a loud snap, and she rose to the sky with a few strong flaps of her wings. Her curly mane whipped in the cold wind as she tilted her wings to carry her toward the vessel. Landing with a soft thud on the wooden planks, Aubrey lowered her head to the group of horses already aboard. "I will fight for you. I will not fight for those lying cowards."
Word Count: 496 | Post #2 |
|
|
|
Post by Queerly on May 25, 2017 9:20:18 GMT -6
vladimir They'll call me the contender. they'll listen for the bell
With my face flashing crimson from the fires of hell From the moment the port came into view he’d realized, with a black disquiet, that the pier was absent of the most profound reason to draw them home. Vladimir had kept the weight of his sword in mind, contemplating who it might cut in the coming hour. He’d wondered whose blood he could live with. On the pier Vidar caught his eye, and in the same moment their minds had collided. His captain’s thoughts were a focused barrage of apprehension. Vladimir turned to follow him ashore. He decided he could live with anyone’s blood.
Though steady enough at a trot, his instincts rebelled against the solid earth, and he knew from Vidar’s own stumbling gait that the sentiment was shared. Vladimir noted the disadvantage, and came to a halt not far behind his captain, already speaking. The Enforcer watched Gidal, listened as the patriarch spoke of marriage and a vague southern homestead. Though traditionally slow to anger, ire sparked in his chest. A lie was a discordant note, a melody Vlad knew well, and recognized instantly.
Unmoving, Vladimir cognitively leaned in, prodding at the falsehoods until there was a give, the truth laid bare to his discretion. He absorbed the memory of withered flowers found in the snow, making it his own. The ire became a rage.
He’s lying.
Vladimir drew his sword a beat too slow to be in tandem with Vidar, and stood still. A series of events followed, and he, accustomed to observation and more importantly to listening, allowed them to pass with a deception of passivity. He spoke with Alcippe, still strong on the Trespasser’s helm, projecting words and the memory of Astrid’s possession nearly succumbed to the snows. His attention was on the brothers, but he kept the likes of Synn and Lorian within sight. Their captain strayed their hooves, but for how long? Loyalty could make one foolish.
Vidalia charged past him. Vladimir had a second to register his alarm before her war hammer struck Ansgar’s ribs. The captain retaliated, and for the first time in a very long time indeed, Vladimir opened his mouth and bellowed a guttural, vicious noise. The teke grasping his sword tightened, and then he was moving forward, drawing opposite of Vidar’s circling, Ansgar trapped dead-center.
The talking was left to Vidar, as it always was. Vladimir was not yet inclined to let his secret slip. The captain’s lunge was a signal he chose to act on, his own blade swinging with calculated intent.
It was not a fair fight, but Vladimir didn’t believe in such things.
433 words | post 1 |
|
|
|
Post by manabuns on May 25, 2017 13:24:56 GMT -6
ISKALDER nothing could ever be simple, and some times in the quiet moments caught between the lingering tendrils of night and the beginning of dawn, Iskalder pondered if simple was an unobtainable goal to them. Astrid's disappearance hadn't ran him through like a sword artfully slid between his ribs, nor drawn a tear from his eye like it had for those who had loved her dearly. However, there was no denying the absence of her painted figure washed the bleak expanse they called home another shade of ugly grey. If he closed his eyes, he can still remember how the cold and muddied slush had clung to his legs like weighted bracers as they'd turned back toward Ghosthold. He felt it all, like he felt the salted winds through his locks, and it only made the air that much thicker.
The red sails of the trespasser had finally fluttered off the horizon and her great mass docked within the bay, Iskalder had watched with pinned ears and lips pulled into a thin line. He hung back from his father and Ansgar, the line of Raiders and fellow crew fanned out at his side. Unease slithered through him like a snake, each breath exhaled laced with anticipation as Vidar all but charged forward to demand where Astrid was. The snake knotted in his stomach, and his eyes finally peeled their crimson gaze to both his father & Ansgar.
There would be no simple resolution today, his mind unhelpfully hummed as everything began to spiral, and while Iskalder had never made his disdain of his younger brother a secret, the sword now pointed at Ansgar stilled the wash of red threatening to flood his senses. Too many of their own kin had died to Vidar, the marks above his brow proved that blood was thin when not shared fully. The pause lasted but for a moment, the wound inflicted and then to Vidalia's own blow spurned him back into action, instinctively he stepped forward. It was not in their nature to fight fair, that much was true.
Iskalder held fast to the bones of playing dirty, an opportunity was an opportunity, honor and morals be damned. What was swiping the legs out from under a man, kicking dirt and soot in their eye or swiping at the throat with as much blood lust a soul could carry but just another rule in the unfair game? Another sword was just good business.
In this case, apparently, it was unacceptable.
Nostrils flared and furious as he rounded toward the circling pair, eyes trained on Vladimir as his own long sword was drawn, teke gripped firm to the hilt like a vice. "Crew of the Abaddon," he snarled above the throng breaking out, neck craned and eyes ablaze as he pushed forward. "Protect your Captain!" Word count: 415 Posts: 1 |
|
|
|
Post by Chipo-H0P3 on May 25, 2017 20:50:28 GMT -6
FAUST the Last of the Bone Snatchers 
WARNING: Foul Language & Poor Grammar Below
Faust stood in the background like a foreboding mountain ready to let loose an avalanche. All around him there was activity, but he just stood, watching the chaos unfold before him, total discontent plastered across his rugged features.
The old raider had waited patiently for the day the Trespasser and her captain came back to the encampment. Ever since Faust had landed on this miserable, icy wasteland, Vidar had been the subject of almost every conversation. The Flanks couldn't stop yammering on about their prodigal son. Faust heard it all, how Kaia had chosen him and how much wealth he was bringing back to the clan and how revolutionary he was. The way they talked about him... it was clear, Vidar was a hero among them, but when the ship made port and the captain drew his sword on his brother... Faust saw no such thing. This was was no champion. This was a raging, undisciplined child.
Faust seethed in anger as more horses joined in the meaningless squabble. What were these idiots fighting for? The ear-piercing cry of a mare aboard the ship gave him his answer but it only increased his bewilderment. They fought for Astrid, the daughter who failed to fulfill her function for the clan. What sort of melodramatic shit was this? The bloody bitch was a deserter and deserved whatever came to her in those woods. Faust did not understand why there was need for deception at all. These were not the Bloody Flanks he remembered. Regret began to tug at his heart for ever aligning himself with this pathetic group. The Bloody Flanks were as gone. Gone as his own clan.
The Massive grey unicorn took two massive steps forward. "GIDAL! I DID NOT SIGN UP FOR THIS SHIT!"
post: 1
WC: 295
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on May 26, 2017 7:35:03 GMT -6
ANSGAR
Ansgar was drowning.
He heard the voice of his father, heard the commotion of his Clanmates, and most of all, he heard her.
He knew not how, he knew not why - he could only gawk as Alcippe revealed their deceit. Anger and confusion coursed through his veins, but his attention was pulled from that particular bit of chaos as Vidar struck him once more. Perhaps Ansgar was better equipped for Vidar's physical assault rather than verbal, for the words he spoke cut deeper than any blade ever could.
Ansgar's face contorted into something much more sinister at Vidar's remarks, but he wasn't given the opportunity to strike back. He was aware of Vladimir's presence, and how he was quite honestly trapped, but he hadn't foreseen just how good the mute's aim was.
At once Ansgar uttered a guttural cry -- a noise of unbridled agony and rage -- shrinking away and pulling his sword up as a shield. Whatever was left of his ear burned, spreading throughout his body and engulfing him in its flames.
Could he even feel the blood trickling down his face?
He snarled once, sword lunging as he pushed back against the two stallions. He vaguely heard the muffled cry of his own right hand, but he was too preoccupied to focus on the words spoken.
He felt like he could finally breathe when Iskalder jumped into the fray, and immediately Ansgar stepped closer to his kin. His most trusted, his most loyal - eyes ablaze, sword ready, he snapped.
No words needed to be spoken as he lunged forward, taking the lead of his retaliation._________________
3 | 267 |
|
|
|
Post by tallshiips on May 26, 2017 9:59:05 GMT -6
Cormac
Bloody Flank Raider  Cormac shuddered as he watched the events unfold on the great ship's deck.
The Trespasser was only a few hours returned from its great voyage, decks laden with life-giving supplies and valuable bounty. Such vessels had always been the Clan's lifeline; the beacon of hope shining brightly through even the coldest of winters, and the Trespasser was certainly the most spectacular of them.
Two brothers, kin of his own, faced one another. The tension was thick between them, the situation growing direr with every passing moment, and yet the middle sibling kept his distance. This wasn't something that he wanted to get on the wrong side of.
So he watched, and waited, and held his tongue as the red sails billowed in the wind, pulling against the ropes that fought to keep her moored safely in the harbour. Perhaps today the spilling of blood that they were foreshadowing would be the Clan's own.
He hoped that it would not escalate to that stage, but he knew that Gidal's crime was unforgivable to Vidar, and hence the conflict was inevitable. He shook his head with an inaudible sigh and unsheathed his dagger.
This was going to get messy.
-
The dark stallion was at his eldest brother's side in an instant, dagger unsheathed and hammer hanging idly - though he could not vouch for how long it would stay dormant - by his flank. At Ansgar's other side was Iskalder, wearing a similar look of distrust and perhaps disgust at Vidar's actions. Surely such a betrayal deserved a reprimand?
His brow was knitted with thought, mind like an ocean storm, but his eyes were steely with determination. Though Vidar was his brother, his actions had weakened the bond of blood significantly.
While he doubted how rational his actions were, he was entirely sure that he'd chosen the correct side in this skirmish. The crimson blood continued to bloom at Ansgar's ear, a melancholy blossom, and served to focus his mind. Blood had been spilt and certainly, there was more to come.
He gritted his teeth and his mouth set into a grim line of determination - whatever it came to, he would protect his clan and its values.
As Ansgar leapt forward, violent as a tightly-coiled spring, Cormac only hesitated for the merest of moments before he followed suit, a primitive cry of rage escaping his throat.
392 words || post 1
|
|
|
|
Post by hey-stardust on May 26, 2017 21:21:25 GMT -6
⎈
2 | 386
VIDALIA | BLOODY FLANKS | RAIDER
Though guidance was poor, Vidalia was close enough for the blade to bite deep into her skin, narrowly missing her eye and travelling smartly down the cheek. Blood spattered heavily onto the timber flooring in an instant and flecked across her legs, but the pain didn't hit her, at least, not at first, for she was too intent on striking again to be diverted from her primary goal.
It was only when she touched base with yet another old friend, that the wound began to smart.
Vidalia screamed, the call wild and utterly irate at having been pulled off target; writhing violently like a scalded cat between Synn’s teeth, and immediately striking out with her forelegs to push off the scout’s shoulder as she was swung around, fighting to be released from the familiar, vicelike grip.
The mule's knees buckled when she finally managed to pull free and make contact with the ground, gaze immediately drawn to her fallen weapon that lay only a few metres away; the teke link having been broken between them the moment the scout intervened.
Expression grim and unyielding, Vidalia only gave herself a second to look up at Synn, then yanked fiercely on the telepathic connection as she rose, her whole body leaning back in the effort.
"… You can't let them." Vidar’s words were resonating in her head now, drowning out even Synn’s chastising. Confronting Lorian’s slow advancement, Vidalia spun around and backed up, kicking out with both hind legs, and intending to make the stallion’s mask a permanent fixture in his skull.
Furls of frost had begun to leave her nostrils as tiny fragments of Cascade’s blessing exuded from her skin, fueled by emotions no longer being kept in check, and slowing the flow of ichor still dripping from her face.
First Alcippe, then Astrid, now the Trespasser? Chains long gone from her pasterns had begun to twist, tightening once more around her as they had so many years ago when she was a child; this place had always felt cold, but this was the first time that it no longer felt like home.
“Fuck your traditions!” She spat, now swinging her hammer at unguarded legs, trying to stave off those who sought to take over the control of the ship. #NOTMYCAPTAIN
|
|
|
|
Post by Mad-Manx on May 27, 2017 13:15:09 GMT -6
Ualda | Mare | Merchant Ualda had moved quick upon realizing the situation unfolding, yet not quick enough to prevent the first blood from being drawn. Her maroon eyes locked onto the crimson liquid trickling down Ansgar's coat, fighting the pounding of her own heart as she jostled for a position at the front of the crowd. Although not particularly tall, she was certainly broad and stout, clearing a way for herself with minimal effort. It took longer than she would have liked, but at last she broke free to where her brothers stood, treading far closer to the fight than most other bystanders dared. It was agonizingly obvious that Vidar and Ansgar were not alone. Her foolhardy brothers, Cormac and Iskaldar, had taken it upon themselves to join the fray, along with Vidar's loyal crew members. The draw of blood was contagious, and Ualda doubted it would take all too long before the majority of the clan joined in on the chaos. Some were already declaring their loyalties with determined words and actions, while others hung back, perhaps waiting to see which way the tide flowed before stating where they stood. Gidal, her father, would not stand for mutiny, she knew. A squabble betweens brothers was one thing, but to aid in deteriorating the clan into anarchy? He would not allow it, and she feared more than one would feel his wrath today, should this be allowed to continue. Unarmed and wholly uneducated in the ways of combat, Ualda mustered forward the only weapon she knew; words. She may not have quite possessed Gidal's menacing baritone, but still, she was his daughter. She hoped her tone bore with it the gravity to give her brothers' pause, if even for a moment. "Enough!" Ualda bellowed, forcing her way ever closer to where the swords danced. "Enough, all of you," she repeated once more in a softer growl, coming to a halt only just outside of the range of the flashing metal. For others such a position may have been an invitation to join into the conflict, but she bore no weapons aside from the withering glare she fixated upon her warring brothers. Post 2 :: 357 Words |
|
