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Post by Queerly on Jan 16, 2016 19:43:20 GMT -6
 Azazel never saw himself interacting with, and much less leading the common rabble. But he is an Adviser - a representation of Valore, and Aodhians take care of their own. "Come." He says. "I will lead you to safety."
Event Journal// Located Here
Premise Journal// Located Here
Hello Starborn, and welcome to Plot 003: Get Out Alive! We have so much planned for your little firebabies, and we hope you enjoy the Chapter as much as we enjoyed making it for you! Please keep the following in mind!
- Posts must be a minimum of 175 words. There is no maximum!
- No strict order is enforced, but there must be at least two posts between your own character's posts.
- Five posts is the minimum to earn the event AP/CS/FVR rewards. After you've posted five times, you receive 1 AP for every post after!
- Your team is precious. Don't let anyone feel left behind! Try to interact with everyone. <3
- Have fun! Even if your pony isn't. 8'D
Once the team leader has posted, you may begin posting as well!
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Post by GingerBlues on Jan 18, 2016 2:46:33 GMT -6
 Bright emerald eyes scanned the arena as he followed Amadeus and the other advisers into the rather luxurious Monarch’s box. It had been far too long since he last attended a brawl, and he was glad to be there. He’d even placed a few bets on his fellow adviser’s pitt mare as well as the large spotted stallion he’d seen in the ring for years. The striped stallion glanced over at Isador, noting the discomfort in his eyes before turning to Amadeus, gently reminding the young King that it was time to begin. The child nodded, stepping up onto a podium to greet his people and kick off the festivities. A smile crept over Azazels lips as he gazed into the arena, watching as the fighters were paraded out for all to see. Each a glorious testament of Aodhian strength and power. The announcer made sure to highlight each of the fighter’s achievements, as well as that of their masters. It was far more engaging and informative than Azazel remembered, but he wasn’t about to complain. *BOOM* The sound cut off the speaker, and before Azazel could react, his world went black. The sounds of terrified screams greeted the stallion’s ears as he opened his eyes slowly. Dark spots still plagued his vision as he shakily stood to his feet, trying to piece what had happened together. Everywhere he looked, terrified horses darted towards any perceived exit. Falling debris threatened injury, and the chevaliers seemed preoccupied with fighting the horses Azazel could only assume were behind the attack. Amadeus was nowhere to be seen, and even Issador and Bones were missing. Still rather disoriented, the Adviser spotted a small grouping of frightened citizens nearby who appeared to not know what to do or where to go. Huffing loudly Azazel approached them, knowing what needed to be done. “My friends, I urge you to follow me. I will lead you from this chaos and back to safety.”
[Post 1, Word Count: 334]
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Post by GingerBlues on Jan 18, 2016 2:47:46 GMT -6
 Checkpoint 1// The Crucible is in an uproar. The sound of fighting is muffled only by shrieks of terror. Bodies swarm on all sides, scrambling over one another as desperate citizens attempt to flee the scene. The chaos has separated many: brother from sister, slave from owner, friend from friend. As the situation dissolves, your party looks to Lord Azazel to lead them to safety. |
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Post by MusicalMagpie on Jan 18, 2016 10:37:15 GMT -6
Albella | Artisan
*squak* Jolted back to reality by the dark-phase peacock perched on her back, the duel coated mare looked about the arena. Voices were trailing off now, good, she hadn't zoned out for the announcement. Getting into the viewing area was a bore, the loud chatter flaring up a mild headache. Albella scanned the arena bellow, eyeing each fighter with eyes uneducated to the art of pit fighting. Albella listened to the names of fighters and owners being listed off with respective achievements added. Despite the little throbbing feeling in the back of her mind, she couldn't help but smile. It had been some time since she last attended any gathering, but the demand for paintings of winners and horses in the heat of combat would been in demand soon. Having brought only a few sticks of charcoal and loose parchment, the plan was to sketch a snapshot moment and finish it later. She winced as avian claws dug into her back... something was wrong. *BOOM* Silence turned to darkness as the black edges of her vision took over. Terrified, she snapped her eyes open and rushed to her feet. The blood rush sent her staggering against the low wall. High pitched ringing filled her ears as she looked out at the chaos below. Oh godsStill looking through fuzzy eyes she looked at the horses below. The severity of the situation grasped her as she pressed herself on the edge. Who was down there? Her hearing returned to her once again and the grating sound of her peacock familiar almost covered the sound of terrified screaming from other citizens. Gritting her teeth as a body crashed into her flank and spun her way from the carnage. She found the faces of several others standing in bewilderment. At a loss for words to give any of them, she turned to the shrieking bird flapping mad on her back. "Bean, quiet yourself. Lest I clip your wings." She snapped, her brown and blue eyes now blazing mad. "Listen! Listen! Danger!"
Albella could only pick out these words from the jumbled mess of her bird's language. Listen? She looked at each of the horses surrounding her, yet none of them had said a word to her. There, a striped stallion was approaching them. One of the advisers? Follow, right, yes. All she could muster in response was a series of small nods. She could only pray they'd all make it through this mess. [Post 1]
[412 Words] |
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Post by Silverfallingstar on Jan 18, 2016 11:29:54 GMT -6
The day had been eventful to say the least. Moon herself hadn't taken in that much drink, she preferred to be able to walk unhindered back home thank you very much. She had headed to the crucible alone with plans on meeting up with her friends Evalynn, Arita, and Asalah during one of the breaks between matches. Maybe they would go and party afterwards.
Sitting in the stands as the event started, she watched the the fighters circle the ring, listening to their king announce the beginning of the festivities and name off the pit fighters. She recognized Ghost, a fighter owned by her fellow blacksmith. She wasn't much of a betting mare, but given that this was a special occasion, she'd put a few coins behind the speckled slave out of friendship for Evalynn. She had considered, at one point, getting a slave of her own. Not a pit fighter, but a servile, one that could help her around the forge and help her with getting supplies from the market. Those large orders of metal weren't exactly light weight.
Boom.
Her musings were interrupted as a loud explosion rocked the crucible, causing her to stagger to avoid falling over. That didn't sound like fireworks...
And judging by the screams and turmoil that followed, not to mention the big gaping hole in the crucible's pit wall, that sound was most certainly not fireworks. Valore was under attack.
The blacksmith felt rage boiling up in her chest as she used her telekinesis to wrap her cloth that sat around her neck into a tight wrap. It wouldn't help if in her attempts to get free of the madness she got hurt because the cloth got trapped on some crack in the rubble. Oh if only she had a blessing like her friend, she might be able to fight back those damned vagabonds. Not that her hoof to hoof combat skills were shabby, but they wouldn't help much against trained combatants who had planned this whole damn mess.
"Eva? Asa? Ari? WHERE IN IGNACIO'S NAME ARE YOU?"
She shouted, voice lost in the loud screams of those scrambling to flee, and the cries of those being injured or worse... yes those were bodies she saw, dead. Blue eyes scanned the area frantically, seeing Arita and Asalah down in the pits with other commoners and fighters. She saw Evalynn off in the distance with a few other nobles and artisans, and was about to make steps over the broken and unsteady ground towards her, when a voice broke her train of thought.
“My friends, I urge you to follow me. I will lead you from this chaos and back to safety.”
The horse that had spoken she recognized as one of the advisers. Right, getting out of this mess was probably a better idea than fighting right now. She made a mental note to ask her father to help train her in fighting more than he already had after this whole debacle was over. She turned and trotted over to the zorse, looking down at him.
"Fine by me. Lead the way."
[Post 1 WC: 519 words]
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Post by kajejackson on Jan 18, 2016 15:48:33 GMT -6
Einar watched excitedly as the event began, with antsy movements as the fighters entered the ring. From where he sat they were barely the size of his hoof, but he still recognized them all. And shouted at the top of his lungs when ever one of his favorites were announced. Especially those he'd placed money on. This had always been his favorite part of the festival, the energy and excitement, as his favorite sport went on below. He wouldn't miss this for the world. That was, until everything went sideways. All the fjord heard was a loud boom, like an explosion . And suddenly, all the happy, energized calls and hoots morphed into terrified shrieks . His ears still ringing, Einar looked to find what caused the disturbance . Only to have his eyes drawn to a gaping whole in the thick stone wall, with vicious, bloodthirsty equine pouring through. Scared stiff, the small stallion soon found himself caught up in a flurry of flying debris and hooves as everyone clawed past each other towards the exits. All sense of decency, or neighborly kindness seemingly lost, as everyone fought for their own survival. Trying to get as far away from the pit, and the intruders, as possible. That is, with some exceptions . As his hearing came back and his vision focused, the dun saw a chimatic zorse approach the nervous cluster he'd found himself in. Remembering seeing him seated next to the king before the chaos started, Einar nodded repeatedly as he offered to take them to safety. "After you." He shouted, not wishing his voice to be carried away by the violence below.
[Word count: 272 Post:1] |
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Post by amelthea on Jan 18, 2016 16:27:33 GMT -6
Ange | Artisan
The night had been filled with laughter, fireworks, and alcohol. She had decided against drinking tonight, for she would have to lead Ze'ev home after the brawl that was soon to happen later. She would rather not be drunk a and try to lead a beat up pitfighter home. That wouldn't end well for either one of them.
Ange made her way towards the crucible. Laughter and fireworks filled her ears as she made her way over. It was only expected that'd she'd come watch her slave fight. Her eyes scanned the pit, horses of all shapes and sizes were competing. The small mare made herself comfortable in the mass of horses surrounding her. A smile pulled at her lips as Ze'ev's name was announced. She had done a wonderful job in cleaning the stallion up, not to pat herself on the back or anything.
The joy didn't linger long.
A deafening noise split through the giddy atmosphere. Her eyes looked around frantically for the source. A gasp hung in her throat, the crucible wall had been blown into. Aodh was under attack. Spectators had fallen into the pit, others laid fallen in the ground. Piercing screams filled her ears. Her mind flew back to the fighters, she spotted Ze'ev in the chaos. Horses poured in through the gaping hole, intruders..
Her thoughts were silenced by a voice offering safety, she'd had to go for her own well-being. Ange turned to the voice, a chimeric zebra, an advisor. She followed the stallion without hesitation, he was a good chance for protection.
Word Count : 261
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Post by Aerased on Jan 18, 2016 22:29:49 GMT -6
Araphine | Worker | WC: 442
It had finally come! Araphine was no stranger to nights of revel, for she spent many a night out on the town (holiday or not) - but for the whole city to be involved? She wouldn't dream of missing it. And so she was there, accompanied by a handful of other workers; they all giggled over how handsome the fighters were, her head swimming slightly after the few drinks she'd had before they found themselves seated at the Crucible. She closed her eyes for a moment, drinking in the laughter and the cheering with a contented sigh. A hush fell upon the crowd, and she turned her gaze toward Amadeus.
As the King's speech concluded, her attention was drawn to the movement in the pit; as each fighter's name was announced, she found herself getting more and more excited. She'd always loved the pit fights - after all, who wouldn't love a bunch of muscular stallions fighting over basically nothing? Her violet eyes scanned each one until she found the one she'd been waiting on; Galloway. She'd met the stallion once or twice before, and, as a testament to their friendship, she'd bet a few shards on him. An excited smile lit up her face, and she let out a cheer as his name was called.
Boom.
Her excited cheer morphing into one of terror as it left her lips, Araphine watched as the Crucible wall began to crumble. The sudden explosion had shocked her into a stasis, her eyes transfixed upon the wave of equines rushing into Valore uninvited. As if in a trance, she slowly turned to survey the devastation and confusion as it unfolded around her; her friends were long gone, and civilians were fleeing past her like roaches from sunlight. Reality seemed to be moving in slow-motion, and she found herself unable to move. She felt someone run into her, knocking her sideways and out of her trance; the world began to turn again, and she scrambled to her hooves.
Her eyes fell upon the striped Advisor and the few other Aodhians huddled around him as he spoke, and she swallowed the growing lump in her throat as she approached them. Despite the terror and chaos that saturated the air around her, she couldn't help but feel alive - she felt as if she could run a marathon, and suddenly she felt confident that they would make it out in one piece. She turned to the ragtag group she'd found herself in and nodded as if to encourage them, her eyes flickering to the gold-adorned stallion with whom she'd suddenly entrusted her life.
Gods be with us.
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twilightmustang
Nebula
My love it kills me slowly, slowly I could die.
Posts: 8 
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Post by twilightmustang on Jan 19, 2016 13:57:59 GMT -6
Guinevere | Artisan | Post 1 | WC: 373
A white-hot blanket of fear enveloped the mare who had, only moments before, felt a sense of security she had thought to never feel again. She had seen Brutus in the pit, tall and wicked amongst his competition, and she had known satisfaction. Synergy, even. Now the heart that pumped pride and plots to her every organ seemed to stop- all sound and sight ceased with it.
When her vision returned there was nothing but dust, debris, and death. Bodies ricocheted off one another; flesh gave way beneath sharp hooves. Was she in the pit herself?
Guinevere felt as if she might be sick, but couldn’t seem to find the strength to move. She knew she had to act. Knew that soon, soon something precious would be lost to her. She blinked, trying to clear her mind.
Suddenly, a change.
The calm voice that called to her seemed an anomaly against the white noise of the desperate screams. It was enough, at least, to snap her out of her fugue state.
An advisor with rather large ears stood but ten paces away and a small group of horses were gathering about him. She held his gaze, nodded, and for a brief moment as she stepped forward to follow him, felt a respite from the chaos.
That is, until she heard a roar from the pits- the pits that held her slave. Her only ally in this cruel world. In her hysteria she could have sworn it was her name, flung from the mouth of her monster like some hellish cacophony.
Guinevere slammed to a dramatic stop, whipping her head around to see if perhaps she could see him, her brute.
Nothing. Nothing but necrosis.
She turned back to her saviors and felt her blood rise.
“We must turn around and fetch my warrior,” She said pleadingly, baring her teeth and pinning her ears in both anger and fear.
“I-I I cannot just leave him!" Anguish laced her every word, and she looked about wildly for sympathy, for an understanding nod.
"I paid good money for him!” Guinevere trilled, a frenzied attempt to level with them. Perhaps the mention of coin would help them understand her seemingly inexplicable urgency? |
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Post by GingerBlues on Jan 20, 2016 10:17:48 GMT -6
Upon speaking to the small group, the consensus seemed to be that they would follow. Wonderful. At least they weren't being as stupid as many of the other common horses were. At least that was how it appeared. "Alright then, with m-" He was cut of by the rather frantic voice of a mare. Lovely. “We must turn around and fetch my warrior, I-I I cannot just leave him! I paid good money for him!” Azazel forced himself to keep his disgust to himself, opting for a blank expression instead. No matter how badly he wanted to roll his eyes at the ridiculous request, he knew it wouldn't get them anywhere. Oh how he hated the common folk. "Yes, I'm sure a good number of us have paid good money for property that may have been lost or damaged in in this unfortunate attack, but my first, nay, my only concern is getting you all to safety. You will be re-reimbursed for any losses you may have suffered, but I assure you, the only thing we can't replace is your lives. Now please, stop this nonsense and follow me."Anger began swelling in his belly as he spoke, desperately wanting to rise up and lash out at this ridiculous mare who dared to waste his time. The stallion was entirely ready to knock the mare out and drag her from the rubble they stood in if necessary. This was not the time to be concerned with slaves, and Azazel was certainly not going to let one hysterical mare drag his good name through the mud or ruin his ever so heroic rescue. [Post 2, Word Count: 272] |
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Post by Silverfallingstar on Jan 20, 2016 11:28:54 GMT -6
Moonrise looked around as more horses began to gather around the advisor, all heeding his call to help them get out of this mess. That is, until the mare with the curly mane spoke up about her pit fighter. The blacksmith looked over at her, something seemed familiar about her, like she'd seen her around the pit before during some of the high end fights. Always when that big brute of a fighter would be involved.
The gears turned in her head before she finally settled on the idea that this must be the owner of that massive horse, Brutus was his name, right? She leaned over after noticing the Adviser seemed to be showing a bit of anger, in his eyes at least.
"You're Brutus's owner right? I'm sure he'll be fine, if anything i've seen from his fights he doesn't exactly give up easy, or at all."
She hoped her words would do something to calm her or ease her worries. If anything it would help her calm down, thinking about how there aren't many in the herd who would give up easily. They would all get out fine, right?
She turned her attention to Azazel, flicking an ear before asking. "Which way is the fastest way out from here?"
[2nd post WC: 212]
(tagging twilightmustang I hope you don't find Moon recognizing Gwen as Brutus's owner metagaming. I was looking at brutus's ap tracker and saw that he had his rank maxed out, which means he's really well known, based on the rank level descriptions)
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twilightmustang
Nebula
My love it kills me slowly, slowly I could die.
Posts: 8
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Post by twilightmustang on Jan 20, 2016 13:38:36 GMT -6
Guinevere | Artisan | Post 2 | WC: 479
Gwen could feel the bile building in the back of throat as the stallion that had promised to deliver them from evil became evil incarnate itself.
She flared her nostrils in disgust.
Well, it was clear her argument had backfired on her, as now she seemed nothing more than a harebrained girl hell bent on keeping what little fortune she had. The revulsion in the Zorse’s eyes seemed to match her own and it only fueled her fire, but it was becoming blatantly obvious that there would be no group rescue mission.
Why had she ever thought there would be in the first place?
Stupid mare, her panic had rendered her delirious. Had she truly forgotten where she was? This was Aodh. Ethical action…righteousness…gentleness…the way the marwari saw it, they’d been expunged from the city long ago.
This was a noble. She had seen him in the monarch’s box, whispering sweet nothings to the young king. She had wanted them to watch as Brutus maimed their merriment. It would appear as if someone beat her to it.
“Of course,” Guinevere hissed, caustically. It took all of her will power not to ask the advisor about how much he thought she’d be recompensed for a life. Instead she settled on a simple “Thank you” for his attempted rescue and was about to take off on her own when she heard his name.
“You're Brutus's owner right? I'm sure he'll be fine, if anything I've seen from his fights he doesn't exactly give up easy, or at all."
Not ‘property’ but Brutus. Something within her caught as the stranger acknowledged his humanity.
“Yes,” Gwen answered, softer this time as she turned to look up at a tall mare with a coat like obsidian and the sky in her eyes.
Suddenly self-awareness crippled her. She must look absolutely insane, all frantic and eager to martyr herself in the fray for a slave. Aside from the advisor, these were just regular citizens who valued their lives. But how could she explain there was no life without Brutus? No light, no hope?
And yet the mare was right. If anyone would make it out of tonight alive it would be her mountain.
The black horse's words acted as a sedative, and she nodded at her gratefully. A dark angel in the rapture.
She’d follow her. She deigned to follow the advisor but Gwen would follow her. At least until she could duck away without being noticed. After all, she would not find Brutus here, and the rubble made the pits impossible to access from their current vantage point. And perhaps, if the gods were good, the silly-earred thing would slip and fall on the way to wherever they were going. She wouldn't want to miss that. Not for anything in the world.
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(Silverfallingstar: OH, not at all, my dear! Brutus is incredibly well known it it makes total sense that people would recognize Gwen as his owner because she's is always stalking around those pits haha! It was the perfect thing to say! Thank you for checking in though, thats so thoughtful!
Sea-Goddess-Cascade: Apologies in advance for Gwen being the world's biggest brat. And for the record Azazel's ears are anything but silly  )
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Post by kajejackson on Jan 22, 2016 16:40:51 GMT -6
Einar watched the situation awkwardly, shifting his bright blue eyes from their apparent savior to the panicked mare. He could see a fire building in both of them, causing his usually bouncing tongue to stiffen. The fjord sensed a deep emotion from the marwari towards her slave. Wither one of love or monetary value, he couldn't decide.
Either way he was incredibly grateful when the ink black mare interjected, easing the owner and keeping things civil. "Yeah," he chimed in, as it finally clicked whom the fighter was. "If anyone can hold his own down there it's him. Probably take half those buggers down himself." Einar nodded, remembering the first time he saw Brutus in the ring. Which was perhaps, one of the greatest fights he'd ever witnessed.
"So yeah, where we headed?" He asked their self-appointed leader as he turned his head towards the outer walls. Searching with his eyes for a unblocked passage way. All the while he aimed his vision away from the debris, away from the bodies starting to form, some still twitching or moaning in pain. But most especially, away from the blood soaked pit.
He, like so many of them, had come to watch the games, to watch grown horses tear each other apart for sport. Yet somehow, despite being fundamentally the same thing, he found himself growing weak at the knees. Lungs filled with the mixed smell of dust and fresh blood, ears twitching with every new cry. The dun tried to block his senses out, focusing only on the faces of his small group as he found himself mouthing a silent prayer for their safety.
[Posts:2 WC:273] |
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Post by Aerased on Jan 22, 2016 18:14:58 GMT -6
Araphine | Worker | Post 2 | WC: 488
Araphine's head swiveled to face Guinevere as her frantic voice rang out through the chaos. She felt pity well in her heart for the white-faced mare - it was obvious that she did not see her fighter as property, and for that, Araphine respected her. In all their power and glory, she often forgot that the pit fighters were technically someone's property, and it was refreshing to know that not everyone treated them as such. Her attention flickered to Azazel as he spoke, and she felt a sudden disgust at his response. While she sympathized with his "one concern", she wasn't particularly fond of the way he shrugged off Guinevere's desperation.
She opened her mouth to speak, but Moon began before her. "You're Brutus's owner right? I'm sure he'll be fine, if anything I've seen from his fights he doesn't exactly give up easy, or at all." Araphine said nothing, simply nodding in agreement. It dawned on her, suddenly, that she had not spoken a single word since the explosion, and she wondered briefly if she'd forgotten how to. She wasn't sure if this was a good or bad thing.
With the Adviser's response still ringing in her ears, she turned to face the rest of the group as Einar voiced his agreement. She snorted at his question, sarcastic laughter rumbling in her throat. "Hopefully away from here." She retorted, glancing into the pits behind her. She could see blood and bodies, manes flying like banners behind horses that were either fleeing or fighting... she couldn't tell. With a shiver, she turned away. It wouldn't do to dwell on the violence behind them; their goal was safety, and what was behind them certainly was not safe.
With a sudden burning desire to be anywhere but here, her eyes landed on the Adviser. She could feel his disdain for them rolling off his body in waves, the tension between he and Guinevere still lingering in the air. "I should say this before we get going - we can't be arguing among ourselves all night. If we're going to get out of this mess alive, we're going to have to do it together. It's quite obvious that this is not how you wanted to spend the rest of your night, and I apologize that you're stuck with us commoners," she paused as she spat the word, her annoyance at the Adviser's previous comments crescendoing into an anger she found herself unable - and unwilling - to control, "but it seems that none of us particularly have a choice." She finished, glancing over at the rest of their group.
"Now, isn't it time we get out of this mess?" She arched an eyebrow, hoping that they could move on. As much as she loved the scent of blood and sweat and the dust that still hadn't settled from the explosion, she (and hopefully everyone else) would much rather be elsewhere.
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Post by amelthea on Jan 22, 2016 20:36:19 GMT -6
Ange | Artisan
Ange perked her ears at the advisor's words to the distressed mare. There was honestly no need to be rude... Everyone was confused and stressed, and being a plain douche was not going to help anyone. Especially not on this circumstance.
Her body started to tremble when the situation only seemed to get more dire. More screams only seemed to fill her ears, more bodies hit the ground, and they were just standing here. She wanted to get as far away from the intruders as possible. A group seemed more safe, for if she came in contact with an attacker, she might could come out of the encounter alive.
"Can we please just leave?" Ange pleaded, her voice threaded with fear. Arguing wasn't going to get them anywhere, and yet here they were. Her ears were pinned back, she shifted her weight from between her back leg. She was anxious to get moving, anxious to get back to safety. "Standing around isn't going to do us much good in the long run." She mumbled, eyes dancing with terror.
She didn't do well in these type if situations.
Word Count : 191
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Post by MusicalMagpie on Jan 22, 2016 23:16:14 GMT -6
Albella | ArtisanThere was still so much noise. Between the continuous screaming of civilians and authoritative shouts from the higher ups, Albella was at a loss. Her initial search of the pit below was fruitless. She couldn't pick out faces fast enough before getting separated from the wall. Now she was in a small gathering of horses, some of which had turned to bickering like teens. "please, everyone" She mumbled quietly, her attention still divided between the commotion in the pit, the chaos around them, and the adviser who seems to have gone out of his way to help them. *SQUAK* Not this again. The chimera horse snapped her vision forward, brown and blue eyes now blazing with a new frustration. Many horses were losing something today, but right now they had to focus or risk losing more. Tension was high and with adrenaline pumping through everyone's system, tempers were rising higher. "I agree that we should get moving, but please, for the sake of all that remains good keep a civil tongue." She spoke louder now, hoping to be heard above the cacophony. Turning her gaze to the zebroid, she dipped her head. "Sir, I recommend you take what you hear with a grain of salt and understand that we still look to you as our guide." Albella was trying her damnedest to keep composure. However distracted she may seem she didn't want to look frightened out of her wit. With an invisible weight being lifted from her back, the still bird-laden horse was ready to move, however quickly or slowly they must set off. (Word Count - 266)
(oh lordy i sure am dead, bury my tired body) |
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Post by GingerBlues on Jan 24, 2016 10:13:08 GMT -6
Good. They were all back on the same page. Let the little wench worry herself over her slave, as long as she came along without a fight it wouldn't be a problem. "This way." The stallion shouted over the noise, rearing up and wheeling around on his hind legs. " Stay close, and stay together!"The stallion chose a steady yet fast pace as he galloped through the once magnificent Crucible, leading his rather incompetent charges to safety. Rubble lying on the ground created frustrating obstacles that he swerved to avoid, putting more strain on his left hip than he would have liked. Old injuries were not helpful when trying to make a grand escape. He made a mental note to see a physician once this whole debacle was over. "Hurry!" The zebra growled at his companions from deep within his belly as he pushed through the pain that shot up through his hip and spine. Now was not the time to hesitate. His reputation was on the line, and he needed to prove to his people that he was capable of leading, if only for Isador's sake. He grunted at the thought, pushing himself even harder as the rumble of a collapsing ceiling caught his attention. "Move!" The unicorn bellowed, sliding to a halt allowing the others to get by as the ceiling above them began to give way. The last thing he could afford to do now was leave anyone behind, no matter how badly he wanted to. [Post 3, Word Count:249]
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Post by GingerBlues on Jan 24, 2016 10:15:35 GMT -6
Checkpoint 2// As you make your way into the corridors, the ceiling begins to give way, crumbling right over your heads. [Volunteer] is caught in the rubble, becoming trapped. Will your party try to save them, or continue on, not wanting to risk their necks? |
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Post by Aerased on Jan 25, 2016 19:07:15 GMT -6
Araphine | Worker | Post 3 | WC: 405
With a slightly agitated huff, Araphine charged after the stallion. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure everyone was following, unwilling to leave anyone behind. Her ears flattened against her head as she concentrated, dodging the fallen pillars and rubble that littered the crucible. It was hard to hear over the roar of the wind, but the agonized screams and cries for help rang in her ears like a bell. She shuddered.
The zebra's shout snapped her out of her momentary lapse of attention, and she noticed that she had lagged slightly behind their little group. As the crackling of the ceiling caught her attention, her heart began to pound. They were going to be trapped! As shards and chunks of stone began to rain around them, the spotted mare realized that there was a good chance that none of them would make it to safety. They could be flattened beneath the ceiling, trapped and alone, with no one to rescue them.
With a violent shake of her head, Araphine forced her thoughts to the back of her mind. Now was not the time for fear - she had to focus! One wrong step, and -
she was trapped. A chunk of stone fell to the floor mere inches before her, and, without time to move, she found herself falling to the ground. The impact knocked the air from her lungs, and for a moment she struggled to breathe. Before she could even begin to understand what happened, more of the ceiling collapsed around her, trapping her and separating her from her companions. Suddenly frantic, she scrambled to her hooves; her forelegs were scraped and bloody, and her head was swimming from her momentary lack of oxygen.
Ears flat against her skull and eyes wide, she searched for a way to escape. She threw herself against the rubble, but she was not strong enough to move it; she glanced above her, but she could see no way to climb over. "Guys!" She shouted, her voice raspy and her throat dry from inhaling the dust that floated around her head. "Please, don't leave me! Help!" Her shouts became pleas, and she reared, striking the rubble with her legs in a desperate attempt to move them. Every muscle in her body screamed for her to stop, to just give up, but she couldn't. She refused to die here, trapped in a collapsing Crucible.
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twilightmustang
Nebula
My love it kills me slowly, slowly I could die.
Posts: 8
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Post by twilightmustang on Jan 26, 2016 0:00:25 GMT -6
Guinevere | Artisan | Post 3| WC: 387
Gwen loped alongside her newfound accomplices, head snaking low in an attempt to shelter herself from the raining stone. The Fjord was some paces ahead of her, behind her demi-horned antagonist, and in light of his kindness she hoped the debris she wished to crush Azazel spare him. The pretty blonde with the bald face trotted next to her and the small mare’s anxiety had her prancing like a court dancer. Behind her was the striking horse Guinevere felt a blossoming fondness for, as she had stood up to the Zebroid when Gwen’s own tongue was tied.
To her left was the other chimera…Guinevere had yet to decide if she were friend or foe. She was almost alarmingly composed and removed from what Guinevere felt was the unavoidable and debilitating fear of losing loved ones to the explosion.
Had she no one to care for? Or was she simply existing in the moment? Gwen flicked her ears towards her strange companion and remembered an old nursery rhyme-something about two-souls residing within one form. Ah, but now was not the time.
The other, less-attractive, chimera clipped ahead, yelling out commands Gwen had decided were utterly unnecessary. They weren’t foals and she had a hard time imaging he actually knew what he was doing. Being a noble and all, it was no leap of logic to assume he had little experience in situations such as these.
Suddenly, a crack, and Guinevere leapt in the air, large chunks of the Crucible nearly crushing her lithe form.
She whipped her head around, mouth agape in sheer horror. Had anyone been hurt?? Then a wicked grin threatened to toy at her lips. Had Azazel?
"Guys!"
Guinevere let out a small gasp. Where had the cry- oh. The lovely mare with the serpentine neck. Trapped. The marwari looked around and everyone appeared as shell-shocked as she.
Well, she wasn’t going anywhere. Not now. After all, heading any further into the crucible might result in more live burials.
“This one we cannot leave.” She said venomously, flattening her ears at their leader before before turning her attention back to the panicked damsel in distress.
“We are here. We’ll get you out!” She called through the tomb, hoping against all hope that something could be done |
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Post by Silverfallingstar on Jan 26, 2016 10:06:33 GMT -6
At a brisk pace Moonrise followed the others, striding next to Gwen as they moved through the crumbling crucible. The place was falling, fast, and by her calculations, this place would be in ruins by the first light of Ignacio's sun. Over broken stone and metal she stepped, this place was worse than her workshop on a bad day but she managed. Black ears kept swiveling to catch sounds of structures potentially falling, to warn others in the event that it was necessary.
However she was to late to warn as a section of roof came crashing down behind them, and she just had time to catch a desperate shout as she leaped out of the way. She wheeled on her hooves to turn around quickly. Gwen was standing by the rubble, she could hear shouts of someone trapped inside. She looked behind her, counting who was here and who wasn't. The mare with the white head, where was she? Crystal eyes gazed back at the rubble pile.
Oh no.
She rushed back over, immediately moving the smaller bits of rubble out of the way with her hooves and untying the sash from around her neck. "Hey, I'm going to push my sash through one of the gaps, when you see it or feel it, give it a tug ok? I need to know how deep inside the pile you are." She called out to Ara, using her telekinesis to guide the lightweight cloth through one of the bigger gaps until just a little bit stuck out on the outside. She kept a hold of it telekinetically as she looked over at Gwen.
"Help me clear the rubble, but be careful, if we move the wrong stone, we could end up hurting her far worse than she already might be."
Attempting to calm her beating heart, she went back to work, moving the smaller stones first before moving to the bigger ones in an attempt to clear the path.
Father of flames, I've asked before, but in this hour of need I'll ask again. If you so wish, bless me with something so I may aid my fellow herd mate from the chaos caused by those who would desecrate your city.
[Post 3 WC: 371]
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Post by kajejackson on Jan 27, 2016 12:50:44 GMT -6
Einar followed their gilded leader closely, helping clear a path through the crumbling structure towards safety. His eyes darting quickly from side to side, watching for pieces of uneasy ruble jutting from the walls. Willing them to let his party past unscathed. Pushing himself forwards with short calls of encouragement for those behind. "Come on! Not that much far-" The fjord was cut off by the heavy groan and crash of stone, followed almost immediately by calls for help from a semi-familiar voice.
The dun stallion skidded to a halt, turning his head with a jingle of his bridle, towards the noise. It was then he saw the gentle giant of a mare -at least, compared to him-, and the frizzy haired slave owner from before, fussing over the pile of uneven shards of rubble. Taking quick inventory of the rest of the group, he realized there was only one trapped beneath the crushing weight. A small comfort all things considered, but a breath of relief nonetheless.
And with that Einar charged back towards his comrades, placing his front hooves on a larger chunk as he tried to peer through cracks in the makeshift wall. Trying to decide the best way to attack it. "Hey, you still okay in there?" he called to the frightened mare, "No broken bones or nothin?" The fjord, despite having to raise his voice over the chaos to be heard, spoke calmly; his melodic voice carrying his concern through the stones. [Post:3 WC:246] |
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twilightmustang
Nebula
My love it kills me slowly, slowly I could die.
Posts: 8
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Post by twilightmustang on Jan 27, 2016 15:44:32 GMT -6
Guinevere | Artisan | Post 4 | WC: 256
Gwen watched with baited breath as Moonrise manipulated the sash that had, only moments, earlier, been draped over her sinewy shoulders. It squirmed through the air and into the rubble like a snake retreating to its lair.
Ah, she was one of the blessed. Gwen mused, tilting her head as the red fabric all but disappeared from her sight. An angel indeed.
"Help me clear the rubble, but be careful, if we move the wrong stone, we could end up hurting her far worse than she already might be."
The seraph’s voice snapped her out of her trance and she nodded, every nerve alight, as if on fire. One misstep and the puzzle would become a death trap.
“Where should I begin?” Gwen quested, lifting a delicate hoof to test the large stone in front of her.
“Araphine? How are you fairing?” She asked, her genuine concern nullifying her attempt at calm.
While waiting for an answer she spun around to assess the rest of the group. Would they run? Ange was such a tiny, delicate thing, she doubted she could lift more than herself and…Azazel…well…he had been reluctant to even associate with them.
"Ange? Perhaps you might be able to run and find us someone large and willing to help move the heavier stones?" Admittedly, it was not Guinevere's best idea. "Don't stray too far, of course. Dart around the corner and then return to us- regardless of whether or not your search yields anything."
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Post by Aerased on Jan 27, 2016 23:49:36 GMT -6
Araphine | Worker | Post 4 | WC: 343
Araphine paced nervously, ears flat against her skull as she listened to the muffled commotion on the other side of the tomb she'd found herself in. Her forelegs stung and sweat beaded on her sides, trickling down beneath her stomach before dampening the ground beneath her. She had never been one to sweat and worry, but who could blame her when her life was at stake? She heard Moonrise's voice and quickly rushed to where she thought it was coming from, tears of relief springing to her eyes before she blinked them away. They were going to help her, after all!
"Alright!" She responded, her heart fluttering in her chest as the others rushed to her aid. "I'm fine! No broken bones, just a few scrapes is all." She told them, glancing down at her bloody knees. She couldn't see her companions between the cracks, but knowing they were there eased her increasing heart rate a considerable amount. She danced on her hooves as she waited for Moon's sash to appear between the cracks, hoping that she was not buried as deep as they thought. If so... it may be impossible for her to move on.
With a vigorous shake of her head, she rid herself of her thoughts of death. She would not die today, or tomorrow, or the next day. Suddenly, the red and gold sash snaked its way into her stone prison, and she reached out to take it between her teeth. She gave it a gentle pull, just enough to alert the midnight-colored mare to her location. "I'm here!" She called, rearing up on her hind legs in an attempt to find a spot to peek out from. Her attempt proved fruitless, however, and she snorted in frustration. There HAD to be a way for her to get out. She heard Guinevere's suggestion and silently hoped that there was someone waiting just around the corner, because it was becoming glaringly obvious that none of them would be able to move the stone alone.
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Post by amelthea on Jan 28, 2016 16:54:10 GMT -6
Ange | Artisan
Relief flooded her heart as the striped chimera roared over the noise, signaling to leave.
Ange sprinted along side the small group, avoiding fallen objects that lie in her path. They were going to make it through this corridor, and they would soon be fine. She was almost convinced they would make it, though a loud crack demolished her hope.
The ceiling toppled down, a gasp was caught in her throat. She halted, turning her head to the group of rocks. A muffled voice came from the pile, oh no. She looks around frantically, who were they missing? The dark brown mare, she was trapped.
Ange had never felt so helpless. She wasn't strong, or possessed any helpful gift.
Her attention snapped back to reality as her named was called. Check around the corner, yes, she could that. She managed a quick nod before darting off. Her heart slowed as she turned to look around the corner.
Deserted.
No help.
Ange wanted to scream, how were they to help their trapped companion? More of the ceiling could cave in, then they'd all be stuck.
The small mare returned back to the group, "No one. She groaned, dread settling over her once again.
Word Count : 202
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Post by Silverfallingstar on Jan 29, 2016 11:53:48 GMT -6
A change seemed to come over the inky black mare. She opened her eyes from her quiet prayer and seemed to look more relaxed, less panicked. As she let out a slow breath, it almost seemed as if she mouthed silently the words "Thank you."
A small smile crossed Moon's face when she felt the tug on the scarf. Good, she wasn't that far in. "Ok I'm going to leave the scarf where it is, So I'll know how close we are to you. Don't worry, we won't be leaving you behind." Her eyes flicked to Gwen, as she asked where to begin.
"Start by moving out the stone that's either on top or around the bottom, it will help us see what needs to be moved and in what order, plus it's just rubble that would be better out of the way and not where we can trip and lose our balance."
As Ange came back reporting nobody was around, she looked at each face of their little group in turn, then back at the rock pile. Nobody was around, so they would have to do this themselves. She was slowly forming a plan in her head. Mapping it out like she would a blueprint for a new piece of armor she'd been commissioned to make. Before long she turned to the others.
"Ok. I may not be an Adviser like Azazel, but I have had experience with moving hunks of metal ores from big piles. With those vagabonds running about, no telling where they might show up next, so we'll have to work quickly, but carefully so we don't put our friend in a worse position."
She would look at each horse in turn as she addressed them. "Ange, Azazel, if it's not to much trouble, I want you two to be our sentries. Azazel, you probably know most of the faces of our herd because of your rank, so you'd be able to tell if any approaching horse was friendly or not. Ange, you seem fast, so you could alert us quickly of any danger." she paused, turning to the others. "Gwen, Albella, that's your name right? I've seen you around the artisan bridge I believe, you're a painter?, and... sorry sir I can't recall your name," she motioned to Einar "will help me with Getting Araphine out. I may be a blacksmith, but I don't have the strength of Brutus, so some of these rocks I can't move on my own."
Finally she turned and leaned in towards where her sash was snaked through the rubble.
"Araphine, you have probably the most important job. As we clear the rubble, listen for any sounds that could mean the little space yours is going to shift, specifically if it sounds like things will be getting a lot more cramped. If you hear something like that, I want you to yell at us immediately, so we can stop and re-think how to get you out. Also, let us know if we move anything that causes light, what little of it there is, to spill in to your space. Once that happens, we'll be very close to being able to free you."
She leaned back and addressed everyone. "If you have no problems with this plan of action, then lets get started." She said, moving to where her scarf was squished between two stones The sash should show them the easiest path to get to Araphine, at least that's what Moonrise hoped. She started picking rocks off the pile, being careful to check how much weight was being borne down on it before moving it, then placing the rubble off to the side out of the path.
[Post 4 WC: 617]
(ooc: Sorry zazy looks like moonrise stole your job, on accident of course.)
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Post by MusicalMagpie on Jan 29, 2016 22:27:53 GMT -6
Albella | ArtisanHaving done an about face in order to run to safety, Albella had turned a hair too far and first ran smack into a jutting corner. It took only a split second to correct her course. Taking little care to the squawking peacock in the middle of her back she weaved through the collapsing rubble with the group. Look at it... just look at it. The Crucible was an architectural marvel that captivated the awe and wonderment of all who held it in their eyes. Here was The Crucible, crumbling around them. Bits of the ceiling bounced off the ground, some falling near to her. "Guys!"Albella brought herself to a halt and whipped her head around. The dark brown mare had vanished under a mass of stone and shouts began to rise up again. No, no, no, she can't be under all of that. Others rushed back to the pile, moving chunks, and orders being shouted to each other. Fear had gripped her again and held fast. Words blended together in a mumbling soup as the chimera stood shaking... useless. The bird once perched on her back had left for a more stable place on the floor. "Gwen, Albella, that's your name right? I've seen you around the artisan bridge I believe, you're a painter?..."Moon's words reached frightened ears. Albella stood there like a scared child, a small trickle of blood from her nostrils, only mustering a subtle nod and quiet, "Yes mam."She had tried being brave, but now, however shaky her legs were, she rushed to the rocks. She set herself to testing each rock. Which remained solid while the other might move with ease. Taking in a quivering breath, Albella started aiding in removing the loose chunks as they were found. "This isn't a nightmare... it's really happening."Albella spoke to no one particular and kept her eyes on the work. (word count 318) |
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Post by GingerBlues on Jan 30, 2016 18:50:13 GMT -6
Azazel stood, dumbfounded that this artisan would dare to speak to him as an equal, even going so far as to tell him what he should do. If it had been anywhere else, at any other time, the Chevaliers would have been called and the mare would have been forced to answer for her insubordination. He'd address the incident later. But now...now lives were on the line, and her plan was putting more of them at risk than was necessary. Araphine could find her own way out, and if not, there would be rescue parties later. Leaving the worker mare wasn't ideal, but if it would allow the others to escape to safety... "We don't have time for this!" Azazel hissed, anger rising up in his voice as more of the once great Crucible crumbled around them. How could they justify putting so many lives at risk for one mare who wasn't even injured or even in any real danger? The Vagabonds would leave her alone, and couldn't harm her in passing. Yeah, she might be scared, but she was a hell of a lot safer than the rest who stood exposed trying to "save" her. A large CRACK! caught the zebra's attention and he looked skyward just in time to see more of the ceiling come crumbling down. "Get out of the way!" He shouted, attempting to push Angelia out of the way of the falling debris. [Post 4, Word Count: 239] |
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Post by GingerBlues on Jan 30, 2016 18:51:39 GMT -6
Checkpoint 2.5// You've taken too long in your attempt to rescue Araphine. Rubble continues to fall from the ceiling and traps two more horses [Volunteers]! With all the unnatural disproportionate weight, the floor under the trapped horses gives way, sending all three of them sprawling into the tunnels beneath the Crucible. With almost no way to reach them, and the Vagabonds continually pressing closer, what will you do? |
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Post by kajejackson on Jan 30, 2016 20:22:18 GMT -6
Einar found himself releasing a breath he didn't realize he'd held as the trapped mare assured them she wasn't injured. Well, that's one less thing to worry about. He thought as he started pulling at some of the smaller rocks. Hoping that their combined absence might make an escape without putting any of them in more danger.
However, the fjord soon found himself stepping back as the black mare from earlier, the one that volunteered her sash as a rescue line, took charge. He found himself dumbstruck, listening to her orders with only a short nod of agreement. Too impressed by her calm leadership in this situation to speak, at least until she motioned to him that is. "Oh, sorry, name's Einar." He coughed awkwardly, finally finding his voice. And with that, and another nod, he focused as much attention as he could onto the ruble. Taking a step closer to Moon, so they could focus on the same area.
He was more than relived at her decisive leadership, having been on the brink of panic when she took over. Einar now found himself less than impressed at the noble's 'leadership' skills. Becoming down right furious when the striped unicorn suggested cutting their losses and leaving her trapped. "WHAT?!!" He screeched, turning to face Azazel. "She needs help! We can't just, leave her!" The merchant's blood began to boil as he took a step towards the older equine. Whatever respect he had for the noble on principle, was quickly evaporating.
It was at this moment, as the fjord took another aggressive step towards his superior, that he heard the ceiling give another ungodly moan. His blue eyes darted up quickly, as he saw cracks in the stone spread like spiderwebs. With a quick gasp of realization, and a warning to the others, he raced towards safety. Or at least, as the closest he could find in the crumbling structure.
[Post:4 WC:319] |
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