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Post by Deleted on Jul 15, 2017 9:25:57 GMT -6
 Hello Starborn, and welcome to Plot 409: Trading With Traitors
Team Leader: Ansgar
Participants:Iskalder, Lorian, Killian. Muiris, Uther. Dante, Alet, Sindri.
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.
- No god-moding or reading characters' minds (unless your pony is a literal telepath, anyway)
- Always get consent before harming another character!
- Your team is precious. Try to interact with everyone. <3
- Have fun! Even if your pony isn't. 8'D
Prompt: The Trespasser is gone, and gone with it are the supplies that would have ensured the Bloody Flank clan’s survival through the long winter. Desperate to save their clan, Flank raiders board the Abaddon and set sail for Sunken Hoof Bay to meet Killian, a merchant whose clandestine alliance with the Bloody Flanks is grounds for treason. They arrange a rendezvous in a quiet tavern to negotiate for food and supplies.
Unfortunately for them, the survival of the Bloody Flanks is no longer a secret in Onea, and the establishment, however seedy, is patronized by loyal War-Forged who won’t tolerate betrayal. Some Vagabonds have the misfortune of passing through when faithful Forged encounter their sworn enemies.
Location:: Sunken Hoof Bay, Onea. Inside an inn tavern.
Time of Day: Sunset
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Post by Deleted on Jul 15, 2017 12:43:37 GMT -6
ansgar by thrutheoceanThey resided in the corner closest to the exit.
Ansgar spent a majority of the trek in silence, mulling over the task before him - and subsequently the future itself. In all his years of living such an unpredictable life, he could never have foreseen the disaster that had struck him or his Clan. Torn apart and ripped at the seams, whatever remained of the Bloody Flanks now spent their days living in a frenzy, desperate to fix the rift Vidar had left in his wake.
Ansgar had not allowed himself a moment to reflect on his own part in the carnage, and the only constant reminder of it was the sword he held at his side. The moment the Trespasser's sails had disappeared from view, Ansgar threw himself into work so diligently, it was beginning to alarm those who were closest to him. He would not allow conversations to be started, and he would not allow himself rest until he could stand no more, lest he spend time at night exploring the darkest corners of his mind.
He could not change the past, but he could most certainly ignore it, though even he knew the wall would crack. It was only a matter of time.
Ansgar thought of the stallions who had journeyed with him - the team Gidal had assembled. The captain had also requested another familiar face to join him, but his father had been quick to shut him down.
A ship is no place for a woman.
Ansgar bit his tongue and obeyed, though he still felt anger brew in his stomach at the absence of his dappled companion.
The trio entered the bar, and Ansgar spotted Killian immediately. The pegasus resided in the corner closest to the exit, and Ansgar breathed in deeply before wincing.
Fucking Vidalia and her fucking hammer.
Hearty guffaws coming from the bar filled the otherwise quiet establishment, and he flicked an ear in aggravation as he approached Killian. He wasted no time with formalities - the situation was dire, and he knew the longer they were there, the more danger they were in. He had his weapons by his side just in case, but he wasn't looking for a fight.
"We need triple the amount of regular supplies. Food, provisions - bare necessities. Nothing less than that. The rendezvous point also needs to be moved to the east coast as well - it's far more accessible to my men and me, and keeps us closer to home.”
His voice was hushed, but his tone was nothing short of a demand. He was leaving little room to argue, and his eyes momentarily darted to Iska and Lorian.
"Is that doable? We will provide you with the protection you need, but not before you confirm you can do this."
Thread is now open - Post away! |
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Post by PaganStars on Jul 15, 2017 14:10:31 GMT -6
Lorian
Lorian's coat bristled, his shoulders twitching.
He held a stein of some sort of beverage close to him, his head lowered and close to the cool glass as he waited for his captain to speak. He wore nothing but the dark cloth across his neck, metal hangings and ornate mask left with the ship. It unnerved him, but he could hardly stand to wear the damned thing now. Ever since the battle between the brothers and the day Lorian had taken that kick to the head he had had the most troublesome headache. There were certain things that quailed it, including the soft lull of the sea but sitting in a bar surrounded by rowdy drunks?
Lorian's scowl deepened and his ears pushed back, glancing to the merchant that sat before them. A shiver danced up his spine and he looked away quickly, looking to the withered brothers that he sat near. Lorian wondered what they were thinking... or more importantly how they were feeling. Vidar had been family...in some sense of the word. He did not know what their relationships were really like but... he still wondered how they were both handling this situation on the inside.
Flaring his nostrils, Lorian's ears twitched as Ansgar spoke. He glanced down at his drink and nodded twice, clenching his jaw as his head reminded him to stop such movements or face the consequences. Kaia, this headache was going to be the end of him.
Post 1 | 248
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Post by SaintPumpkinMuffin on Jul 15, 2017 14:23:10 GMT -6
Killian was uneasy. Very uneasy.
Ansgar, Iskalder, and Lorian. Those were their names. The pony and three rather intimidating trio of brothers were in the darkest corner of the pub, under even darker and more mysterious circumstances.
Killian was on edge every time Ansgar lifted his eyes to scan around them. He kept his normal charismatic and loud voice low. "If all you want are food and provisions, then the east coast is better for everyone. But needing all this before winter..." Killian let his sentence tail off, not wanting to speak the hard truth. The Sea Dragon, the company ship that traveled the eastern coast of Onea, was specifically used for transporting domestic goods and collecting raw materials and food. A normal round trip voyage took anywhere from 3-4 weeks, and with winter right around the corner, and shipments already planned... "It'll take a lot of tweaking, that's all I'm saying," Killian sighed, shoulders sinking. His golden teke placed the stein on the table. He pulled a map from the scroll case strapped next to his knife.
"Here," he said, pointing. "This is where The Sea Dragon leaves port. It's the closest it can get to Ghosthold. If you have the Abandon there in three weeks time, I'll make sure it's stocked with as much as one ship can carry."
He looked up at the three much larger stallions, and (despite Lorian's creepy, pale stare) his curiosity got the better of him. "What's with the sudden meeting, and all these changes? The next rendezvous wasn't until at least a couple weeks from now. I generally like to know what business my partners are up to before I make deals."
Killian paused.
"Especially since this is the second unexpected letter from you guys I've gotten in the past month."
Post Number: 1
WC: 299
Go ahead and roll the dice.
But, if you're going to try and win the game, you'll need more than luck.
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Post by Deleted on Jul 15, 2017 14:42:35 GMT -6
 1 | 373The sunset was bright against the dark sky, the waves crashing against the shore of the Sunken Hoof Bay. The weather had been getting cooler; the sign of summer coming to an end. While Muiris would typically be outside, enjoying the soft breeze and warm rays of the sun, he instead found himself inside a tavern. He sat in a corner. Here, his back was against a wall and he could scan the rest of the tavern; nothing could escape him, as long as his eyes allowed it. On the table in front of him, he had a glass of amber liquid. At his side, his trusty stone war hammer. At his hooves, his arctic wolf, Avon, laid with her head against his leg.
The stallion's tired eyes had long since grown cold; fixed with a hard gaze at anyone who bothered to give him a glance, despite his light hearted nature. News of the Bloody Flanks returning and family getting in the middle of the mix had left him not only sleepless, but angry.
Putting his glass to his lips, he watched the drink ripple from his breath before taking a sip. He put it down with a soft clink against the wooden table, picking up his gaze to glance around him. He recognized a few fellow raiders, even considered going over to talk to them soon. There were the typical drunks and seamen, most he did not recognize. The Sunken Hoof Bay was not a place Muiris frequented often; in fact, he could count how many times he had been here on his hooves.
However, there was a small group that caught his attention. Three larger horses surrounding an awfully small pony. They werent drunk like the rest of them, their voices low enough to where he couldnt hear them from his place against the wall. They seemed to be deep in conversation - a serious one at that. Sitting back, Muiris decided to simply keep an eye on them. While they could be simple sailors planning a route, his intuition told him that that was not the full story.
Raising his glass to his lips once more, the raider took another sip, the drink burning his throat and warming his stomach. |
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Post by Sasha Arctic on Jul 15, 2017 21:18:37 GMT -6
Alet
|| Stallion || 19.3 hh || Vagabond || Mercenary ||
Crisp air of Onea was strange to the lungs of one who had been born and raised in the slums of Aodh's Dark District but the air here smelled of chaos and freedom and the large mercenary welcomed such with open arms. Greedily he took in the beauty and danger of the countryside with his baby hyena companion Nani whom he had found on his new adventures of freedom. The desire for a warm hearth and a stiff drink forced the stallion from his hike along Onea and landed him at the steps of a tavern in a region they called Sunken Hoof Bay, the name peaked Alet's interest and caused him to casually walk through the entrance, his violet telekinesis could only be seen for a second as he open the door and quickly shut it behind himself. The massive stallion took a moment to shake the dirt from his dark coat as his baby Nani did the same and smiled warmly, his gold fangs flashing in the light, at the barkeep as he slowly walked towards them, his spiked shoes clinking against the floor audibly, and ordered a pint of whatever would warm him up, it was best to act as if you belonged everywhere you went as a Vagabond, Alet had come to learn, others were less likely to try and ship him back to Aodh that way...the few who had tried to capture him hadn't lived to tell the tale. A small gold dagger was strapped to his left forearm, a large steel war hammer hung lazily from leather straps laid over his coup and on the other side was an iron short sword accompanied by several bags used for holding the coin he used to pay the barkeep and the other possessions he had 'acquired' in his travels. All of his weapons were freshly cleaned and gleaming in the light and the small hyena who had accompanied him in the door was now sitting beneath Alet between his front legs waiting, almost impatiently to be fed. After taking a few sips of his drink and thoroughly enjoying the burning sensation as it went down and the warmth it was creating in his stomach Alet smiled down at his friend and chuckled softly, his voice was low and rough as he spoke lovingly to the pup, "What would you like here baby? I bet they have a nice cut of beef for you here or maybe that strange creature they herd here...an Alama no- Apana?" Musing softly to himself the stallion shook his large head, his two-toned mane shaking wildly about him, a leaf or two falling from the mess, he wasn't truly speaking to Nani he didn't possess the talent to but he enjoyed speaking to her like he could anyway, she was usually his only companion and without her he would get terribly lonely. "Well whatever it is I will get you a big plate full of their best! How does that sound?" The small hyena wiggled happily between his legs, the sound of her rough paws against the floor was almost inaudible in the commotion of the tavern. "That settles it! Barkeep! Bring me your best, bloodiest cut of meat you have in this city and something for me as well, I need another round, we are starving!" While the stallion wasn't usually talkative, especially with stallions, Alet couldn't help but feel the tension in his shoulders lessen with each drink he took into his large form, it would take several rounds for him to get truly smashed because of his size but the boisterous atmosphere a tavern contained was contagious even for him.
Post 1 | Word Count: 613
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Post by Superior-Caesar on Jul 15, 2017 22:57:48 GMT -6
Dante | Mercenary | VagabondThe mercenary sat in one particularly dark corner of the tavern. His eyes were on everyone else. He honestly hated places like that. Everything was loud and smelled of piss and rum. But, sometimes, it was nice to treat himself. He worked hard for his coin.
Dante's eyes fell upon a suspicious trade deal. At least that's what it looked like. He'd come to know what different things were like in his years. Something about the larger stallions seemed off. Perhaps he was just projecting ideas onto them. The War Forged were all strange to him. They were rarely as sleek and well-adorned as other herds. So he certainly couldn't say what was the norm after only being around them for a couple of seasons.
Dante averted his gaze, eyeing who else might be there. A few seemed like they might be raiders. One had a hyena at his hooves. That one seemed odd as well. Why have a hyena pup so far up north. It seemed an impractical familiar for a winter land. Then again, maybe he was from elsewhere. Dante smirked. Taking his drink, he neared the stallion. What better way to blend in than to speak with the "locals".
"Fancy little friend you have there." He smiled.
Word Count: 210
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Post by manabuns on Jul 16, 2017 14:26:42 GMT -6
,The lights we burn
have all faded out.
The days had blurred in a terrible mix of numbness and acute sharpness, as the world around him scrabbled to hold onto some kind of stability the moment the trespassers' sails disappeared over the horizon and into the unknown. Taking their guaranteed survival with it.
Through it all he trudged forward, diligently maneuvered through the debris and the mine field that was the shattered and frenzied hopes of his fellow kin. Of his own innards, which were little more than caustic coated scraps of serrated metal half-lashed together with bone and the weight of those around him. His muscles quivered and quaked with soreness, complaining silently beneath his painted hide that he was pushing himself. They had to, what were they now? If they stalled and simply floated in the sea they found themselves adrift in? Failures.
Just another group of souls resigned to be just another drop in the ocean. Iskalder did not want to be just another drop, he didn't want the rest of them to be either.
It was true that they could not change the past, but they had the ability to try and change the tide. Put a halt on the proverbial ship as it sailed toward the jagged rocks and oblivion. Iskalder had mustered enough strength and determination to appear ready and willing at his brother's side, the second sword and guard when they were given orders to rendezvous with Killian. They went, wolf pelt pulled close around Iskalder's scarred frame and sword at his hip, and took his terrible mood with him.
The jovial mood of the bar did little to lift his battered emotions as they trudged in, if anything, each crooked grin and bout of laughter lashed against his body like a terrible whip, pulled at his ears raked cruel talons at his senses. It plunged the youngest brother further into a maelstrom of bitterness, sticking to him like tar. Deepened the lines of exhaustion beneath his eyes and caused his jaw to lock up impossibly tight. Ale otherwise abandoned in front of him, save for the occasional push of his flame coloured teke, his crimson gaze had spent the better part of the meeting going from the merchant to the patrons of the bar, to Lorian and then to Ansgar.
He wanted to snap when the merchant inquired as to why they were asking for so much, a rumbled noise threatened to escape from the back of his throat in the form of a harsh quip until he caught it on his tongue. Red gazed dropped on the small pony with as much vitriol the younger brother could muster as he shifted in place beside his brother.
Why did the merchant want to know specifics? "You already said you would bring the supplies." He forced out, brow quirked and lips pulled into a thin line. Stein lifted toward him as he made himself take a sip of the amber liquid. "If you had concerns, you should of asked why before you agreed."
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Word Count: 506. |
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Post by SaintPumpkinMuffin on Jul 17, 2017 10:39:20 GMT -6
With his back to the crowds, Killian didn't pay notice to the Murius' eyes on his back, or the pair of vagabonds starting conversation not far behind him.
One of Ansgar's boys pipped up, much to Killian's surprise. "I didn't sign anything," Killian warned, squinting at Iskalder.
The past few months, having the Blood Flanks as his own fleet's personal personal bodyguard (or rather, not being the targets of their sea raids) had saved Killian countless gold pieces on chartering protection. His wealth was at its peak. Yet Killian was finding that despite his material security, he certainly didn't feel secure. All the money and authority in the world didn't matter in War-Forged. To the strong went the spoils... and Killian knew if it came down to it-- if anyone discovered his pact with the Bloody Flanks, or even one of his fleets' crews exposed the truth-- he could do little to defend himself from the inevitable backlash.
Everything had been perfectly coordinated up until now. The correct horses had been hired, the secret was kept from his own co-owner and mother, and the Bloody Flanks had been more reliable and easier to deal with than many of the War-Forged horses he'd cooperated with in the past. But when your life hangs in the balance, it made cooperation easier, Killian assumed. In the beginning, the deal had been made with Gidal in a desperate attempt to ensure his life. Killian had basked in his success the first few month, blinding himself to the fact that he stood on the edge of a very dangerous precipice. One wrong step, and he had either a Bloody Flank at his throat, or a Raider.
Little did he know how close he was to that situation in this very moment.
But as time continued, and especially in this past month, things had been shifting: the strange meeting with Aubrey, the looming war with the Serorans, Hira's strange half-breed child, and the discovery of a coin unlike any other... Killian suddenly just wanted his life to get less complicated. At least by knowing, he had less to be unsure of, and more reason to feel secure. Knowledge was power and strength after all.
Right?
"From the sounds of it you don't have much wiggle room if I choose to change my mind. Listen, you all have been good partners thus far. No hiccups, pleasant, even," Killian said, teke fiddling with the coin strapped to his forelimb. It was starting to burn a bit. "I see no reason that we should distrust each other. A little more information couldn't hurt."
Post Number: 2
WC: 435
Go ahead and roll the dice.
But, if you're going to try and win the game, you'll need more than luck.
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Post by Channeling-Spirits on Jul 17, 2017 13:16:09 GMT -6
Sindri | Vagabond | Hedgewitch
<hr>
The clatter of bones against a wooden tabletop was nearly drowned out by the bustle of the room, but to Sindri it was the only thing ze truly paid attention to. As ze leaned in over the cloth a slight frown creased hir brow in the most terrible way, but the riddle provided by the throw was so interesting that the hedgewitch did not leave room for any thoughts on chasing tail. It was otherwise a very good place for such, this inn, and ordinarily they would not have left the entrance of the three handsome rogues slip past unnoticed.
The runes, however. They were speaking in riddles, even more than usual, and while Sindri considered hir skills at interpreting them to be better than they were, it was still a challenge to get anything sensible out of them. Slowly the slender vagabond let their pale green eyes trail from one bone to the other - knuckle bones they were, said to come from a true dragon, however implausible that sounded - but strangely enough, the only message ze was able to wheedle out was of 'danger approaching'.
"Well, that is just maddeningly unhelpful" the red-haired wench muttered to hirself, and gathered up the bones again. Maybe a second throw might reveal more...
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Post by Sasha Arctic on Jul 17, 2017 19:42:58 GMT -6
Alet
|| Stallion || 19.3 hh || Vagabond || Mercenary ||
The addition of alcohol to the large stallion was causing his tense broad shoulder to relax some and allowed himself to start enjoying himself in Onea, this is until a stallion had the nerves to walk up to him as if they were old friends and tried to start a conversation with him by complimenting Nani. His violet eyes fell upon the much smaller grullo newly at his side and examined him crucially, the stallion didn't give off the feeling of the other War Forged he had met in his travels in their land, and grunted softly, almost an annoyed sound but more exhausted in nature. "She is." He huffed, shrugging and moving his eyes back to where the barkeep had gone to fetch his order of dinner. His stomach rumbled, voicing its concerns that they might starve before the food arrived and Alet knew it would be a while before he would be fed so he might as well distract his mind for the time being, try to pull some information from the stallion about who he might be if not a War Forged. Most Forged he had met were cleanly cut, or at least had their unruly manes and tails pulled back out of their eyes with intricate braids or some standard ties at least but this scruffy...child, for lack of a better term, at his side more so resembled in the way his mane fell every which way. Alet took a moment to take in the room around him once more before turning back to the grullo, he always tried to keep tabs upon those around him, the old fear that all were enemies until proven otherwise held strong. He was rarely proven wrong, especially with stallions, none of them could be trusted. Most were in the same place as when he entered the tavern, the whispering table was radiating more tension than before and the lone horses were all boring in nature at first glance except for a pale unicorn with hair the color of copper who seemed to be annoyed at the...bones on her table? Strange...he would have to keep an eye on her and possibly try to start a conversation after he was done with the grullo. He turned his violet gaze back down to the stallion at his side and shifted his mass from one side to the other, "I take it you like Hyenas?" He tried, it seemed the stallion liked animals at least, might as well start there. Nani, at the mentioning of her species, perked her dark pieced ears and moved her golden eyes from the room around her to the stallion whom had approached her and her master, he was tall compared to her but no where near Alet's massive stature.
Post 2 | Word Count: 464
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Post by Superior-Caesar on Jul 17, 2017 20:12:06 GMT -6
Dante | Mercenary | VagabondDante immediately noticed the way the stallion sitting before him looked at him. He was judging him, that much was obvious. Of course he would be. Dante was always an odd one out. But, that didn't matter. What did matter was not standing out too much. This stallion seemed to take too long to say anything and when he did, there were only a few words. Maybe it was a War-Forged thing, being a quiet and broody. Or maybe not, the rest of the bar seemed filled with noisy talkers. Dante didn't sit beside the stallion just yet, he would test his boundaries a bit first."Relatively. I've only met a couple and all I can say is they're good fighters. But, I do find animals to be pretty exciting." Dante smirked. He smiled down at the little hyena. "So, what are your names? I'm Dante, by the way."As he stood there, Dante noticed another strange figure in the tavern. There were a bunch of strange runes sprawled in front of a strange looking figure. That was odd to say the least. He'd have another horse to keep an eye on. The small group around the pony still seemed to be discussing things in hushed tones, but it looked like they'd caught the eye of another figure.
Word Count: 218
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Post by Deleted on Jul 18, 2017 18:39:30 GMT -6
ansgar IF THIS IS TO END IN FIRE
THEN WE SHOULD ALL BURN TOGETHERAnsgar was attentive as Killian spoke, remaining silent as he observed the map and locations the pegasus pointed out. It was good information -vital, useful even- but Ansgar could hear apprehension in the merchant's voice. Questions followed soon after, but Ansgar was thrown off, perplexed even, by Killian's next few words. ”Especially since this is the second, unexpected letter from you guys I've gotten in the past month…”He was ready to turn the interrogation around when Iska snapped, but the pegasus had a quick rebuttal waiting. With a flattened ear Ansgar snarled, silencing both of them. He glanced sternly at his brother, in a silent, ’shut the fuck up’ if you will, and brought his attention back on Killian. He did not appreciate the threat laced within the merchant's words; however, he wouldn't point it out, not now at least. The situation was far too precarious to dwell on one trivial comment, no matter how infuriating it was. "He left Ghosthold with his crew - and all of our supplies. He's more than likely to be dead, but that doesn't change that everything we needed for the winter is now gone." He didn't say Vidar's name - not when anyone in the bar could pick up on their conversation, though he knew that Killian would no doubt recognize who he was speaking of. If Killian wanted the truth, then he would get it. Ansgar doubted the merchant would risk pulling out of their arrangement, no matter what ‘threats’ he said. His life was on the line no matter which way the tides turned, but for now the Flanks were on his side - and they would be far quicker to turn on him than the Forged would if he chose to abandon them now. Ansgar exhaled slowly, wincing once more as he did so. "Who was the other letter from?"_________________
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Post by manabuns on Jul 18, 2017 19:32:14 GMT -6
,The lights we burn
have all faded out.
Redden eyes narrowed further when the pegasus answered his question with a thinly veiled threat, surprise masked under the rising tide of irritation. The thorns and barbs which lanced and wriggled through his chest dug in further as the words sank in, adding to the Raider's already haywire nerves, and froze their frenzied assault when Ansgar's snarl reached his ears. Ears dipped back into the messy, tangled locks of hair which fell uncared for around his chiselled face, watching his elder brother's face for a few moments before he looked away with a disgruntled breath. He was not here to argue nor throw their plans askew, and any other questions or barbed words he had for the pint sized merchant were subsequently squashed.
Instead, he schooled his features back into an impassive mask and took to scanning the Inn once more, lingering on one or two equines who caught his attention. At least he had the decency to only clench his jaw when Ansgar admitted Vidar's and the traitors treachery. Good. He hoped he was dead, and that the Trespasser had ran aground and splintered into a hundred different pieces. Her crew lost and hopeless, broken and battered on jagged rocks and dragged beneath the bottom of the see. The younger son would never admit that despite the rage and bitterness, his heart twisted painfully at the idea of some of those on board were now dead. It was better to not let that part show, to bury it deep with the other twinges and bitter bones he'd packed beneath surface of his own mind.
Who was the other letter from?
Abandoning his watch on a particularly large unicorn who appeared to be watching them, Ansgar's inquiry to the other letter pulled him back into the conversation, and with it a fresh sense of unease. He kept his mouth shut for a few, stretching moments. "We are being watched." He finally grumbled under his breath to his brother and Lorian, words masked by the stein once again brought to his lips and eyes sliding a fraction past the merchant's petite frame.
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Word Count: 340.
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Post by PaganStars on Jul 18, 2017 20:21:15 GMT -6
Lorian
Lifting his Stein once more, Lorian held it for a moment and stared at the golden liquid, contemplating it before finally tilting it far back enough that the liquid slide towards him. He filled his mouth before gulping down hard and scrunching his nose up, strongly resisting the urge to stick his tongue out and gag. Kaia, this is the reason he did not drink alcohol. Frowning with disdain, he set the stein down and gently shoved it away towards the centre of the table, eyes flicking to the merchant's map and detailed writing.
Intrigued, Lorian glanced up at Killian before gently tugging the map a little closer to him. He leant down and looked at it intensely, eyes following the many curved lines that marked the various trade routes. His gaze turned sharp as his eyes flicked back up to the merchant and his offending words, Lorian's coat bristling as he lifted his neck and moved the map back to its original spot, eyes focused entirely on the merchant that sat before them. He bit his tongue, held back every single witty remark that bubbled in his mind (most to do with the stature and size of Killian, only some to do with his wings). When Ansgar spoke, Lorian's attention shifted once more and the reminder of why they were truly here sent his gaze back down to the table, his ears flickered back. He mumbled a quick prayer to Kaia, asking her to guide them to victory and to keep the lost in her heart. distantly, his ears rung and in the back of his mind, he felt his headache beginning to bloom once more.
Glancing at Iskalder, Lorian nodded once, sharp gaze going to meet the merchants once more and carefully concealing the fact that he was actually looking past him. Kaia help them if someone decided to interrupt their strained conversation.
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Post by SaintPumpkinMuffin on Jul 18, 2017 20:59:49 GMT -6
Killian was growing fidgety under the powerful stares of Iskalder and Lorian, but he held his own defiantly, keeping his expression firm and unreadable. It looked as if Ansgar was going to bark at him again, but harsh words didn't come. Instead, the negotiator's words were quiet and smooth.
He.
Killian blinked, confusion passing over his face. For a moment, he imagined Faust, his old ally (as, out of the Bloody Flanks, the old Bone Crusher was most familiar). But realization hit him as quick and as jarringly as a dagger to his side. Vidar, the Bloody Flanks golden boy.
The same one who had sent him the letter. The same one Aubrey had said was, indeed, lying on his deathbed, head shattered by a blade.
The little merchant's blood turned cold as he realized that this betrayal probably meant the blade had belonged to one of Vidar's own.
Killian opened his mouth to respond. "The Tre--" Iska's whisper cut him off, even if it hadn't been the larger horse's intention. Probably a good thing. No War-Forged horse would be oblivious to the word Trespasser... especially here, at the Bay. Killian cursed himself, suddenly aware of Murius' eyes, even though he dare not look over his shoulder.
Killian's took time for a breath. A moment of silence to steel his resolve.
"Barmaid, bring us something with kick!" the merchant called suddenly, making up for the bone chilling moment of quiet at the table. Hopefully that boisterous behavior would blow the watcher off their scent. "Make it double for the one with the eyeballs!" Even given their situation, Killian couldn't resist the chance of antagonizing Lorian after the face he made from the mead.
Quickly, he turned his attention back to the others, voice deathly low compared to what it had been before. "What does he look like? War-forged?"
Post Number: 3
WC: ~300
Go ahead and roll the dice.
But, if you're going to try and win the game, you'll need more than luck.
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Post by Deleted on Jul 19, 2017 15:26:57 GMT -6
2 | 503The stallion's ears twitched as his focus jumped between the different conversations in the tavern. While he would like to keep an eye on the small group at the table, he also wanted to keep tabs on the others. His gaze soon shifted to a pair by the bar, his brow arching at the hyena at one's hooves. Clearing his throat, he looked toward his wolf. She had her golden gaze locked on the other familiar, hackles raised and body still. "Avon." He growled a warning quietly. The wolf laid back down, her head on her paws, but her gaze did not leave the hyena.
He tuned in to the hyena's owner's conversation, but only for a moment. Small talk. Nothing important. Nothing he needed to worry himself over, anyways.
Turning his attention back to the small group, the stallion found a deep red gaze staring right at him. His blood ran cold as his gaze met with another's, if only for a second, before the unicorn turned away. His brow narrowed as his gaze shifted to the other unicorn beside him, noticing how he shifted to cover something that was strewn along the table.
If that wasnt suspicious, Muiris didnt know what was.
Licking his lips, Muiris fidgeted at his seat, putting his glass to his lips only to put it back down without taking a drink. He had been outnumbered before, but those times were different. Vagabonds and those not of War-Forged blood were hardly worthy opponents. If the Bloody Flanks - if thats what this group was, anyways - had lasted as long as they had in exile, and had the strength to return, Muiris had a feeling this was going to be.. different.
However, he was fully prepared to lay himself down for his herd, and if that was what it took, then so be it.
Kaia help me, he breathed before pushing himself to his hooves. Avon jumped to her paws, glancing up at the large stallion as she awaited an order. It was then that the smallest of the group called out, rather loudly, for another round of drinks. Muiris turned his attention to the busy barmaid as she bustled around the tavern, trying to balance one too many drinks upon her tray.
Well, there was an idea.
Swiftly, while dodging drunks, the large raider made his way toward the mare's side. "Here, I'll help." He said quickly, pulling four drinks from her tray and holding them carefully with the soft red glow of his teke. The mare glanced at him with arched brows before shrugging and letting him go- she didnt get paid enough to care.
The stallion then wove his way back through the tavern, Avon slinking at his hooves, as he was careful to stay out of the small group's view. He made it to the table and placed the drinks down, muttering an, "Order's up." His gaze shifted to the map on the table, soaking in as much as he could.
Perhaps he lingered too long. |
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Post by Sasha Arctic on Jul 20, 2017 23:28:53 GMT -6
Alet
|| Stallion || 19.3 hh || Vagabond || Mercenary ||
Small talk was never Alet's strength and the massive stallion knew it, labor slaves weren't taught anything by the chevaliers of Aodh other than how to shut-up, work hard and obey orders so everything beyond that the rest of the world had taught him. Sarcasm is this stallions first language though, and even easier to harness when stallions around him found the right way to annoy the beast, they were like a burr stuck beneath his leather tack, infuriating and hard to remove without force. His violet eyes fell upon Nani as she perked at the sight of the newly dubbed Dante, it seemed he liked the pup and she didn't find him as off putting as Alet did. Being the light hearted puppy she was Nani paid no mind to her surrounding, or the wolf on the other side of the tavern that was giving her a dirty look, and instead her gold eyes remained upon Dante, her bobbed tail wagging slowly. She knew that Alet would protect her and thus her trust in him was unwavering. If Nani liked you it made it easier for Alet to trust, but only slightly. The tension hiding between the large stallions shoulders lessons some when he saw Nani wagging her tail. This Dante knew how to compliment Nani, slowly winning her over but even if Alet should have appreciated the gesture like his pup was to him the words sounded like he was sucking up. Back in Aodh Alet grew accustomed to those who complimented him or were kind in the least bit wanted something from him or they wanted to manipulate him like some toy. "I'm Alet and this sweetheart is Nani." Was all Alet said, even if he didn't grow up with a mother beating manners into his skull he at least knew how to exchange name and that not doing so was rude. His dark ears perked to the whispering table behind him as the small pegasus stallion called loudly for more drinks from the bar and the large unicorn, and beautiful wolf, from the corners slithered toward the barmaid, took some drinks from her tray and delivered them to the table before lingering. What was he doing? Alet's eyes lingered upon them, his attention drawn to the table, he was curious what they might have been talking about and studying on the table but it seemed the unicorn had beat him to the punch. Based upon the unicorn lingering in the corner, drinking and possessing a wolf familiar Alet doubted he worked here. His blood buzzed, be it from the anticipation of what was to come next or the alcohol in his veins he couldn't tell but shifting his weight again the stallion felt the comforting weight of his hammer on his hip, he had a hunch he might need it in a minute if a confrontation burst from the table behind him.
Post 3 | Word Count: 477
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Post by Superior-Caesar on Jul 23, 2017 14:33:18 GMT -6
Dante | Mercenary | VagabondDante let out a quiet breath. He could tell this stallion had not a care in the world about him. So much for trying to start up a conversation. "Well, it was a pleasure meeting the two of you." Dante spoke quietly. He let his eyes drift back to the surrounding area. That's when his curiosity finally peaked. That one massive stallion who had been eyeing the strange group had taken action. He was on his way towards them, having stolen their drinks from a barmaid. The fact that she hadn't even tried to argue made Dante laugh mentally. The War-Forged really were a strange group. Despite such things, he was acutely aware of the actions of the stallion that he could only guess was a raider. He was big and brutish with a wolf by his side. It seemed a perfect rank for him. Dante figured he should try keeping up appearances, so he order another drink and kept his eyes only slightly focused on the group. He wanted to see exactly what was going to go down. By the looks of it, everyone was curious, save for the drunks who were off making fools of themselves throughout the whole tavern. At that moment, the assumed raider made it to the table. If the group hadn't been aware of the suspicion surrounding them before, they certainly knew now. Dante's gaze rested on the pony, he had to react in an interesting way certainly. Word Count: 244 Post: 3 |
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Post by Deleted on Jul 28, 2017 21:45:08 GMT -6
ansgar IF THIS IS TO END IN FIRE
THEN WE SHOULD ALL BURN TOGETHERAnsgar wanted an answer. For the first time that night his only focus was on Killian, crimson eyes probing the merchant for a response. A long abandoned flame had begun to flicker in his gut, only to be extinguished as Iskalder cut the pegasus off. His first mate's words made him stiffen, and he momentarily chided himself for allowing such a trivial statement to distract him from the real issue at hand. The silence lasted mere seconds, but he still flinched at how sudden and vigorous Killian's words were. He refrained from rolling his eyes, simply opting to inhale and once more cursing his pain. His body was rigid as someone neared, and the sound of a stallion's voice made his lips curl. A large unicorn had appeared beside their table, setting down drinks and ignoring all of them as he instead honed in on the map. With a muffled snarl Ansgar drove a knife into the center of the paper, piercing through the wood and emitting a faint crack. He turned his gaze to the stallion slowly, eyes locking with the stranger as he offered him an overly amiable smile. "Can I fucking help you, mate?"_________________
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Post by SaintPumpkinMuffin on Jul 30, 2017 8:38:04 GMT -6
"Order's up."
The words shot over his shoulder before any of the Bloody Flanks could answer his question. Killian's eyes darted over to the stranger. It had to be the raider from earlier: huge, weapon-laden, a wolf by his ankles. It didn't escape the merchant's attention that Murius' eyes lingered on the map spread across the table. But before Killian could come up with a snide remark, Ansgar stabbed threateningly into the table. The sudden thud caused the pegasus to jump.
His attention flicked between Ansgar and Murius. Dread way threatening to turn Killian's gut, but he swallowed it down. Grabbing one of the shot glasses on the tray, alcohol soon followed the dread, disappearing down his throat. "Ugliest barmaid I've ever seen!" the pony barked. The years of using his words to save his neck caused Killian's voice to sound more jovial than how he actually felt. "Poor guy..." Killian's teke grasped at the knife in the table and lifted it just enough to slide out the map, which he quickly tucked into his saddlebag. "Couldn't find better work than serving drunks at a dank bar like this?"
The pony ruffled his feathers in mock irritation, if only to hide his nerves. He took a chance to glance at Lorian and Iska, looking for backup (or in the very least, hoping they didn't do anything to start an all out fight).
Killian didn't have a contingency plan if shit hit the fan. They'd have to wing it, pun intended.
Post Number: 4
WC: 250
Go ahead and roll the dice.
But, if you're going to try and win the game, you'll need more than luck.
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Post by PaganStars on Jul 31, 2017 11:33:58 GMT -6
Lorian
At the thought of another drink, Lorian scoffed and diverted his gaze back to the merchant Killian, his brow furrowing and eyes wide as always. He could tell how much it made the stallion squirm, and god Lorian was going to greatly enjoy watching him do so. Flicking his ears back, he glanced at Ansgar and Iskalder for but a moment, gaze taking stock of the aforementioned stallion who had taken interest in their conversation. He was large, scarred and had an snarling wolf at his side. Slowly, Lorian used his teke to grip his twin knives, a faint golden aura holding the handles but not removing them from the straps around his legs. Ever so slowly, he turned his gaze away from the large horse and looked back to Killian, his attention focused on the matter at hand.
When drinks were deposited on the table and a pair of quick eyes made for the map, lorian tensed but stayed where he was, not flinching when a knife was stabbed into the table. His grip on his own tightened, eyes flicking to Killian and then Iskalder, nodding once and signalling that he would fight if need be. Snorting at Killian’s crude (yet wonderful) remark, Lorian offered his own smile to the stallion “you know I see a couple of stallions in the back who could use the attention of such a strapping barmaid,” he spoke in his smooth tone, gesturing to the pair with his head, one of which who had a hyena “Don't expect a tip” Lorian finished.
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Post by manabuns on Aug 3, 2017 4:46:35 GMT -6
,The lights we burn
have all faded out.
Lowlanders. His mental voice curled around the word in disgust as it repeated itself over and over in his mind. Too loud. Too nosy. Too much of everything. Like a blade screeching against stone. The glare aimed at Killian on any other day, would have lanced through a lindworm like butter, but here it's hidden as a look one would give a friend for being too loud and obnoxious, carefully mapped on his face to try and mask their actions from looking anymore suspicious than they already were. They'd gained one set of keen eyes, they didn't need to attract the whole damn inn.
Bloody lowlanders.
Stein abandoned from his grasp, the orange-red of his teke wrapped tightly around the hilt of his long sword as the raider approached, buried beneath the long pelt wrapped tightly around his frame. Ready. Waiting. Their barmaid, as Killian had so delicately barked out in response to his presence, was doing his own fair share of poking. It was hard to miss the way he had ignored them, instead locking onto the map with a hunger a man with distrust in his mind had. He supposed if it was the other way around, he too would be nosy, and that made the supposed barmaid all the more dangerous. He wasn't a bystander, he was much too scarred and hardened for that.
The danger driven through the map and the words spoken from Lorian and Killian both, brought a smirk to the younger brothers maw and a poorly stifled snort of laughter. He didn't miss the way the medic had glanced at him, they were all expecting a fight then. Good. "I wager the one with the hyena will appreciate him more, aye?" He murmured, pulling the drink from the tray but otherwise leaving it abandoned on the map. "Probably want to dim the lanterns first though." He added after a beat, flexing his mental grip on his blade ever so slightly.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 4, 2017 21:46:07 GMT -6
3 | 397The stallion's eyes washed over the map, his brow narrowing as he took note of the various marks. It looked like some sort of route, but a route for what? A knife slammed into the table with a thud, piercing the map. "Can I fucking help you, mate?" His gaze rose slowly as a harsh voice pulled him from this thoughts. Before him was a dark stallion with a white face and striking red eyes. Beside him were two others who seemed equally as pleased to see the Raider as the first one was.
"Ugliest barmaid I've ever seen!" “Don't expect a tip” "Probably want to dim the lanterns first though."
His ears laid back as the others piped in like clockwork, laying their insults on the table, but he paid them no mind. He worked his jaw, gritting his teeth together as he touched his war hammer at his side with a soft red glow of his telekinesis.
Glancing toward the tiny pegasus, Muiris finally broke from his frozen position, pressing his lips together in a strained grin. "Maybe that would be a good idea." He snorted quietly, as if their little retorts had been humorous. He turned as if to leave, but his eyes dropped to the saddlebag which the pegasus had moved the map to. He took a few more steps forward, as if he was really committed to leaving, before sucking in a deep breath and swiveling on his large hooves toward the bags. He had never been much of a thief; he never considered himself graceful or sneaky, but when it came to times like this, he would have to improvise.
Reaching into the bags with a quick flick of his mind, he grabbed the map and ripped it away, quite literally. He heard it tear as he pulled, but did not have time to think about it. He would have to make do with what he got. Letting out a sharp whistle, he turned to his wolf and stuffed the map into her collar before giving her a soft, but firm, shove with his hind hoof. His ears flicked as he heard her claws scrape the hard wood floor as she bolted out the swinging front doors.
Holding his stone war hammer out before him, Muiris settled back on his haunches, ready for the fight that was inevitably coming his way. |
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Post by Deleted on Aug 10, 2017 10:16:02 GMT -6
ansgar IF THIS IS TO END IN FIRE
THEN WE SHOULD ALL BURN TOGETHERAnsgar was unamused by the remarks his companions made. The snarl had not left his lips, even as the knife was removed and the map was stowed away. Though he was on edge, he was relatively surprised that the stallion would pull such a bold move. His anger rose, but he quicky devided that he could curse his negligence after this was over. The wolf scampered away and Ansgar drew his sword, unintimidated by the sight of the unicorn's war hammer. His eyes flickered to Killian and then to Lorian before he motioned to the door. He didn't speak, but the meaning was clear - get him out of here.Ansgar turned his focus back to the "threat" at hand - he was shoulder to shoulder with Iska, his face contorted into an expression that was a mixture of both fury and irritation. He was pissed to have this go awry, but he wasn't worried about losing to the stallion before him. After all, the bigger they are, the harder they fall. "Hold this fucker off." He muttered to his brother. _________________
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Post by Superior-Caesar on Aug 12, 2017 0:53:32 GMT -6
Dante | MercenaryDante had been quietly listening in to the conversation. The small party seemed to be berating the stallion for his large stature. They even had the audacity to throw Dante and Alet into their mockery. Dante couldn't help but admit that the bulky stallion did have an appealing look to him, but that was beside the point. It was pathetic, not only were they a sexist folk, but they also put down others for their build. Then again, he had butted into their clearly confidential talks. He even looked ready to ruin their plans. And sure enough, he did. Dante sighed as the stallion tore away the map that had been sprawled in front of the group. It looked like there was a brawl about to break out. Now he had a choice. Would he get out while he still could? Would he join the group, that had numbers going for it? Or would he help out the damned fool? Ignoring the conflict didn't seem like a fun option. Dante wrapped his navy telekinesis around the hilt of his decoratively carve iron sword. Whatever broke out between the lot, he'd make a decision that would save his hide in the end, even if it meant getting a little bloody. So the stallion sat waiting for what would happen next. Word Count: 219
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Post by manabuns on Aug 12, 2017 18:19:33 GMT -6
,The lights we burn
have all faded out.
All it would take was one hoof wrong for things to go awry now, the air was thick with tension, despite Killian's best attempts to alleviate it. The die had been cast, and now all it would take was one to tip the scales.
Fortunately, the newly dubbed 'Onea's ugliest barmaid' struck first, seizing the map the merchant had tried to hide in his bag before anymore of their plans were revealed. His own long sword is pulled from it's sheath as Ansgar drew his own, teeth bared and a snarl ripping from his lips.
Hold this fucker off.
"Be glad to." Was the only hissed reply which bubbled up from his throat as he cleared around the side of the table with practiced ease, his magma coloured hooves striking across the stone floor like wardrums of thunder. Sword raised and ready to strike, he wasted no time in his attempt to swing low and avoid the hammer completely. Better to strike fast and hard, try and take your opponent by surprise, if you could. They had faced worse odds and survived, taking on one of Hira's grass fed lowlanders was hardly worth the sweat off of his brow. Besides, ever since Vidar's stunt which left them in debris of their ruined lives had had the younger son of Gidal itching for a fight, he could yell and cuss that the mountains Kaia had blessed their land with, but their silence was hardly as rewarding than the angry clash of steel.
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Word Count: 251.
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Post by PaganStars on Aug 13, 2017 12:20:13 GMT -6
Lorian
Everything had happened in an instant. Lorian blinked and suddenly the map was being ripped from Killian's bag, a shout leaving the merchants mouth at the same time as Ansgar stood at full attention. The grips on Lorian's daggers increased tenfold and he swiftly removed them from their sheaths, teeth bared as he brandished them and lashed his tail angrily. His eyes drew to Ansgar as he issued the silent command, Lorian flaring his nostrils and nodding his head curtly. Lorian moved from his spot beside Ansgar, dashing over to Killian and all but picking up the much smaller horse."Sorry about this" he mumbled, Pale teke enveloping the winged stallion as Lorian dodged away from the brute of a horse, glancing back to see if the war forged scum was following them.
Eyes flashed to the other stallion who now brandished a sword, Lorian's own daggers facing him as he moved to the door with Killian (a much harder task than one would think, given that he was trying to drag the stallion along with him through a crowd of now very angry war-forged and Vagabonds.) Looking back at Iska, Lorian prayed that the first mate and captain would be able to handle the brute stallion and that Lorian's life-saving skills wouldn't need to come into play. His mind then drifted to the gift he had been blessed with at birth. What good would it do now?? would he summon a flock of seagulls to come and peck someone's eyes out?? Growling in frustration, Lorian continued to shove his way towards the door.
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Post by SaintPumpkinMuffin on Aug 13, 2017 18:08:19 GMT -6
"What the fu--" Killian burst as Murius swooped suddenly to rip the map from his bags. It all happened in a whirlwind, and before Killian could even finish his sentence, he felt the weirdest sensation tingle across his skin. Being engulfed in another horse's teke was a strange feeling. One that Killian wouldn't recommend trying out.
The pegasus let out a yelp as he felt himself involuntarily dragged through the bar, hooves scrapping the wooden floors and body bouncing from tables and tipping chairs as he went. "Lorian?!" Killian stuttered, looking behind himself as the larger medic carried him away, ass first. Before him, it seemed that Asgar and his brother were just as unhappy as Killian was about the map getting stolen by some thick raider and his mangy mutt. As weapons were drawn, Killian's own teke pulled at his golden dagger by his side. Another knock to the side of the head by a table, and he refocused, snorting through his nose.
Running made the most sense... no getting the map now.
Fine.
"Let go of me!" Killian said in a huff, legs finally working by themselves and turning to run alongside Lorian.
The pair burst through the front door and out into the chilled autumn night. He stopped to look back, wondering if they were being pursued.
Post Number: 5
WC: 210
Go ahead and roll the dice.
But, if you're going to try and win the game, you'll need more than luck.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Aug 13, 2017 21:34:06 GMT -6
4 | 240Chaos seemed to erupt the moment he took the map and shoved his wolf out the door with it. Two of the group had left, leaving Muiris face to face with the last two, their weapons drawn. The rest of the patrons in the bar had began to feed off of the negative energy from the fight, chairs tipped and drinks spilled as others jumped into the action.
The stallion contemplated using his blessing to trap the fleeing pair, but as soon as that idea entered his mind, he quickly pushed it away. There was too much risk in hurting innocents. He would have to take a loss.
Muiris's attention was locked on the raider as he swung around the table, sword raised and swinging in his direction. He had nothing but his stone hammer to defend him, but it had never let him down before. Raising his weapon, the sound of steal clashing with stone vibrated in his ears. Gritting his teeth together, he pushed back against the other's weapon until the pressure was released from his own.
He then took a step forward and swung, stone heavy in his grasp, aiming for the other fighter's head. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, a violent flash lighting up his eyes. He could feel all the stress and anger from recent events draining.
Muiris hadnt had a proper fight in what felt like ages.
This was just what the doctor ordered. |
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