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Post by Deleted on Jul 15, 2017 9:36:14 GMT -6
 Hello Starborn, and welcome to Plot 410: Examining ExodusTeam Leader: Faust Participants: Calder, Odina, Ualda, Cormac, Synn, Eydis, Gidal (NPC) 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'DPrompt: With the marina demolished, the fleet damaged, and the winter’s supplies vanished over the horizon, the mood throughout the Bloody Flank clan is grim. The ground trembles with the aftershocks of the lindworm’s destructive visit. In the village’s main hall, a concerned crowd gathers as their uncertainty grows-- they’d spent decades building that harbor, those ships, and the harsh life they had been able to make here. Without the strength of the fleet, and the rations from the south, Ghosthold is in jeopardy. Gidal tries to assure the clan that they’ve survived worse winters, but the question remains-- is Ghosthold worth the fight? Or should the Bloody Flanks, now stronger than they have been since their exile, risk a return to Onea for their own survival? Location: Ghosthold, Onea. Inside the Ghosthall. Time of Day: Noon |
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Post by Deleted on Jul 15, 2017 18:49:07 GMT -6
gidal
after all this suffering, i could lie here for good
Gidal cleared his throat at the front of the Ghost Hall, his face unreadable as the crowd condensed, filling the inverted ship's hull from wall to wall. Everywhere one looked in Ghosthold, there were signs of Vidar's abandonment: uneven angles in the earth and ice, cracks through the buildings from the shifting landscape, and the watery graves of the clan's fleet. The ruined marina stung the most.
A generation of their clan had perished while the Socket, the harbor at Ghosthold, had been constructed. Dredging their once-magnificent battleships from the harbor, reconstructing them into a new fleet --the Abaddon, the Kismet, the gargantuan Trespasser-- had been a distraction from despair, a common goal that had united the Bloody Flanks in hope. It was the foundation of their newfound strength, the beginning of a banished clan's resurrection. The marina was the Bloody Flank's gateway to survival, to redemption, to victory.
And now it was gone. The symbolism was not lost even to a man as pragmatic as Gidal. Reminders of those deadly winters in the beginning of their exile were all over. Lately, it was all anyone saw.
Gidal squared his jaw. When they looked at him, they needed to see strength. He refused to be another symbol of loss.
"Friends," he said, and his baritone voice hushed the Ghost Hall. "I know it is tempting to be afraid. I know that things we relied upon have not remained constant." He cleared his throat. They did not change. He couldn't flinch. He couldn't look at Ysolda. "Ansgar is leading our finest Raiders to retrieve ample supples from our allies, as we speak. It will be a sparing winter, but not our coldest, and not our longest. We're Bloody Flanks. We endure."
He did not have Vidar's penchant for wordsmithing. He found his mouth was dry. What could he say to a battered people, while Ghosthold crumbled? "We have each other. We have Ghosthold. It will be enough."
His voice was as powerful, uncompromising and resolute as always. His face, however, looked old. post 1 | 341 words |
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Post by Chipo-H0P3 on Jul 15, 2017 20:32:14 GMT -6
F A U S T The Last of the Bone Snatchers
WARNING: Foul Language & Poor Grammar Below
...__________________________________________________...
Faust stood slacked against one of the walls of the great hall, apart from the the rest of the clan, in wait for Gidal's address. None seemed to notice, or perhaps they didn't care about, the mass of disgruntled flesh behind them. They were mourning. The betrayal of their champion had shaken them to the core. Their concerned chatter echoed off the arched ceiling giving the air a sort of vibrating energy. The whole place reeked of fear and breathing it in made Faust sick.
It had been months since the old Bone Snatcher realigned himself with the Flanks, but Faust still felt he was an outsider among them and the feeling only grew the longer he stayed.
...
A deep voice cut through the noise causing everyone to quite. Finally, Gidal had spoken and Faust straightened up to listen.
"...We have each other. We have Ghosthold. It will be enough."
Gidal had made the decision to stay. To passively endure another winter in this wasteland over capturing his traitorous son, over killing the Warlord, and defeating their sworn enemy, the Stonehooves.
Faust did not like what he was hearing. His friend had changed as well as his clan. The icy winds of the north had killed the fire within them, making them strangers to their old ally. His skin twitched in irritation as he pushed his way through the crowd toward Gidal.
"NO. IT IS NOT ENOUGH." Faust's voice bellowed through the hall. The startling objection brought the entire clan's attention to the stallion they had all but forgotten was among them. Their eyes did not deter him. "THIS IS NOT THE PLACE WE SHOULD BE FIGHTING FOR. DO WE FORGET ABOUT WHERE WE COME FROM? DO WE FORGET ABOUT WHO PUT US HERE? THIS. IS NOT. HOME!" Faust stomped his right hoof repeatedly and took a deep breath through his nostrils, trying to calm himself. He had never been one to accept orders he didn't agree to without a fight. Even if it came from a friend. "We should use the supplies Ansgar brings back to defeat the Warlord once and for all! We are ready! We are ready now, or we'll never be!"
There was no way in hell Faust was going to stay here through a winter. The place was miserable enough. With or without their support, Faust was gone.
...__________________________________________________... ![]()   Word Count: 397 Post # 1 |
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Post by fynli on Jul 15, 2017 23:21:25 GMT -6
Odina You can be king again This was apana piss. Complete and utter apana piss.
Gidal had sent Ansgar and Iska (and other raiders) off to retrieve supplies that they needed and had left her behind. How fantastic! She was stuck with the others, nursing a bruised side thanks to that mule Vidar carried on his crew. Even Synn wasn't allowed to go.
Odina seethed under her father's rule against women not leading adventurous roles in the clan. She curled her lip as he began talking, irritated with the words he chose. What were they? Frightened sheep?
The brindled mare leaned over to Synn, muttering under her breath, "This is a bunch of shit and he knows it."
Suddenly Faust's beast of a voice shook the hall, Odina's red eyes seeking him out. It wasn't hard to find him, really. Her ears were pricked forward with interest at Faust's accusations, feeling her breath hitch in her throat at the severity behind his vocal cords. He had a point, an extremely good point.
How long could they stay in hiding? How long could they wait to meet Hira on the battlefield?
"He's right," she spoke up, pushing aside her past attempts at staying hidden from her father's gaze. Staying hidden so she couldn't be carted off. She could feel her mother's stare prickle her skin, suppressing the urge to shudder.
"Why should we spend more of our time cramped up here when the Warlord is out there prancing on the ground that should be ours?" She raised her voice, letting it carry over the crowd in the hall. Who cared if she was a woman? She had the right to speak for her clan as well.
"The Warlord knows we're alive, how much longer do we need to keep them waiting?" Odina paused, letting her words sink in. "The Flanks who came before us are gone. What's the use of honoring them if we stay in this broken hellhole to endure another harsh winter?"
In the wake of her words, she stood steady. Words: 337
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Post by ebbarie on Jul 16, 2017 0:11:52 GMT -6
Calder | Bloody Flanks | Elder's Circle
I've got blood, I've got blood on my name
when the fires, when the fires
are consuming you
and your sacred stars won't be guiding you
I've got blood, I've got blood
blood on my name
The old captain entered the great hall with a stern expression on his face. Every step through the village he had spent more than half of his life in, felt heavy as lead. Some changes in the environment were subtle, others more obvious, and every single change he noticed darkened his mood.
So many clan members were gone. So much young blood lost to the clan. Calder had known many of them from the day of their birth on. He had seen them rise to marvelous adults. And now he had to understand that all the work, the education he and the other older clan members have given to them, hadn’t be enough. They betrayed their values, their leader and everyone they left behind in Ghosthold when they decided to climb onto that schip.
When Gidal started his speech to the rest of his people, Calder lifted his head and looked at his leader. He had always seen him as a pillar of strength throughout all the hard times Calder had gone through since the rebellion. His words had always given him hope even in the darkest hours.
But today it was different, like so much else in their lives after Vidar left.
"We have each other. We have Ghosthold. It will be enough."
Yes, they had Ghosthold. But without the supplies the harsh Onean winter would claim many lives. The moral of his fellow clan members was already low, but after another winter of horses dying like flies the Clan maybe wouldn’t exist any longer.
Soon another, even deeper voice echoed furious through the hall. Calder had to turn his head uncomfortable wide around to take a quick look at Faust with his healthy right eye. Anger settled in the old captain. Faust, even if he was an old friend of Gidal, had not been here all this years. How did he dare to speak ill over this place? Ghosthold was a freezing hell, but after all it had become their home. They had managed to survive in this lifeless place and even to flourish again.
Before he could reply, another clan member interfered. Odina agreed with the old Bone Snatcher and Calder just shook his head in contradiction.
“We are not ready” he said cold, a sharp contrast to the fiery tone in their voices. “We might have been strong enough for a war before Vidar left, and took so many of us with him. But now? We couldn’t defeat Hira when the Clan was at his greatest, and look at us now. It’s true, we have to turn to Onea to find supplies to get us through the winter but we cannot conquer the mountain. We cannot. Not now!”
He wasn’t afraid of a fight, even if his bones told him that he became slowly to old for a battle, but he feared for every single of his fellow clan members. This Clan was his life, his heart and over the years he had witnessed so many of them die. Ghosthold was the safest refuge they had. Hira and her Raiders would never reach them here. They had to wait.
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Post by Sargeant-Knoxx on Jul 16, 2017 1:52:35 GMT -6
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"Get back here in one piece would you? I don't think the clan can take another blow like that.."
The dappled mare hoped that it wouldn't be the last she saw or spoke of her friend. Everyone had hauled together to restore a semblance of order to the ragged camp, but none more than Ansgar it seemed. Like many others he'd worked tirelessly, often breathlessly to an end. But allowed little else. The words they spoke had been the most spoken between them since the events that had transpired on the pier that day.. Since Vidar had abandoned his own clan. It was the day that hope faded over the distant horizon.
It'd taken most everything from them,but there was still a chance. And it depended on the crew of the Abbadon. Well, all of the crew except herself and Odina of course..
Synn thought back on the conversation- as brief as it was- that she'd shared with Ansgar before his departure for Onean port. He'd been outraged, and so had she- about their clan leader's choice to keep Odina and herself within the bounds of the battered Ghosthold.
A ship is no place for a woman.
Synn scoffed bitterly, ears laid back and teeth gritted as she stood amongst the assembled. the remaining. The restless.
It was a time of mourning no doubt, and things were indeed very grim. She herself had prayed for those lost and injured, prayed to goddesses of earth and sea to bless the clans raiders, to bless them all in the trying time- but... There was no better kindling for flames of strength than in the wake of loss. The ashen equine knew that personally.
And yet, as Synn stood there she noted that Gidal's words did more to douse the embers than rally his clan. If there was one thing that Vidar was good for during times like these- it was being an inspiration. He may have been young and a loose-cannon but the damnable son sure did have a way with words. Something he certainly didn't learn from his father. Faust had plenty to say on the matter of which Gidal spoke, and Synn was surprised to find herself agreeing with him. If only once..
It was clear. Perhaps clearer now than it had been before.. They couldn't stay here.
Perhaps Synn had not endured the initial blow, the exile. But she had endured many winters, many long and bitterly cold winter's alongside the Flanks. At the time of her integration, they were few and number, weakened still- but getting stronger. Months turned to ears, and years of hard work from every able body had created a livable, sustainable home. But their life-line had been severed.. And it was only a matter of time before the strength of many became nothing more than ice on the wind.
Odina's closeness pulled Synn from her stewing and the mare gave a huff of agreement to her words, brash as they were. Synn admired the youth for her boldness. It was something she saw herself in.
"At least someone said it", the grey grumbled hushedly. Those jade eyes meeting fiery sanguine for an instant, and then the Odina opened her mouth again. It was in that moment that Synn became aware that a line was crossed. Before she could interject the young witch stepped up, steady against the coming maelstrom.
Calder, a war-wisened captain from the coup of old was quick to question the validity of what Odina had said. He too had a point. Synn took a step forward and her shoulder brushed the brindle-paint's flank in assurance.
"Perhaps," Synn let her voice rise, attempting to ward of the murmuring and every rising clamor. She directed her gaze first at Calder, then Faust, and finally on Gidal before continuing. "It is best that we keep war off the table.. I am no coward by any means- and returning to Onea has been the goal all along- but Captain Calder is right. We are not ready. Not for an attack on Skeldr." the mare turned, eyeing the throng of bodies within the ship's vaulted hull. Her chest fluttered with a burning. She glanced at Odina at her side, and felt further emboldened. If Gidal wasn't going to let capable women sail, then he was going to endure their voices. They were going to be heard.
"We are however, prepared to take action! This land holds no value, no life without the ships, and even if the Abbaddon succeeds in her mission it will not be enough. Ghosthold will not be enough." Synn raised her chin and the scars upon her nose wrinkled as voices met her own. "We should move south! Beyond the foothills in the west where the ports are closer and supplies are easier to transport. If we've survived under the noses of the Warlord this long..-" The voices became louder and Synn laid her tattered ears back once more. It seemed that the situation was slowly getting out of hand.
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|Notes| Let me know if I need to change anything at all! Wasn't sure if I could use the crowd in my post or not.  |
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Post by posy-punch on Jul 16, 2017 19:29:37 GMT -6
EYDIS
WEATHER WITCH // BLOODY FLANK CLAN I simply want to be told what to do. That was the first thought the huge drafty mule thought as she stood, disgruntled and annoyed, in the cold winter wind. She watched with curious eyes as Gidal cleared his throat and spoke. Before his words truly even sank in, she was swinging her head, and horns, towards the last of the Bone Snatchers, Faust, curiously watching as he trumpeted out his dissent to the crowd. She listened closely but winced when the stallion stated they were ready. Even as dull as Eydis was, she could see that they were at one of their weakest points since they'd last rebuilt. Besides, with the marina destroyed yet again, everything seemed horribly ill-timed before the coming winter. The mare spoke next, Odina, calling out her agreement. Eydis shook her head minutely, but remained silent, still fairly new to the winter-hardened clan, the mare was not prepared to speak up unless necessary. She was there to help work, a mindless soldier in the worst of times, a mild benefactor at other times, her coin from her skills as a past architect helping her to aid the clan financially when she could. The captain, Calder, spoke next. He made points more aligned to Eydis's own. He made sense to her, but he did not offer a solution to the problem at hand, the ruined Ghosthold and the impending winter.
Synn, however, offered something of a solution. Eydis agreed that war was perhaps not as close as they assumed and with the move south, as curious as the option was, Eydis could see the tactical advantage it would bring. The closer ports and the supply lines that could be reconnected. Yes, Eydis could see that much. The crowd was beginning to speak again, and Eydis snorted. She would not speak up though, not with the rising voices of the crowd and her own lack of knowledge on the topic. The Weather Witch was waiting to make another routine trip back to the mountain, and she was not updated enough to be comfortable with anything said.
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*shitty but eydis isn't one to speak up if it's unnecessary. she'll follow along though. |
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Post by Deleted on Jul 18, 2017 17:26:57 GMT -6
gidal
after all this suffering, i could lie here for good
Gidal should not have been surprised to hear Faust speak out against him. It seemed everyone was betraying him recently, the moment their loyalty was tested. A whole nest of pretenders, roosted where he could carry them back to glory on his shoulders. Disgusting. He narrowed his eyes in contempt as Faust spoke, watching his outrage and spittle cover the audience.
Faust was embarrassing him, and embarrassing himself. It seemed the last of the Bone Snatchers had buried his sense with his clan. "Unless you've got an army hidden in that gut, Faust, you'll keep your opinions to yourself. Your naivete betrays you, old man-- your days as commander are done."
When Odina spoke --his daughter, scolding him, as if his Elder's Circle wasn't enough-- he cut off her protest with a wordless snarl, leaving his place at the front of the crowd to approach her slowly, his ruby-red teke glowing at the handle of his broadsword. "THE CLAN STAYS IN GHOSTHOLD!" he roared, loud enough to make Ysolda flinch, to make the hall reverberate like a bell.
The earth shook momentarily, as it had irregularly since the Lindworm's rage.
The horrified silence that followed was broken by Calder, whose words of reason calmed Gidal. His teke dissolved, and with a last lingering stare of warning for Odina, he turned away, back to his place at the head of the hall. He nodded as Calder spoke, his jaw working silently, his eyes contemplative. These damn fools. These fucking traitors. Perhaps he should feed them to Warlord, let Hira separate the wheat from the chaff. The building groaned as it settled into the shifting ground, and Gidal ignored it.
When Gidal spoke again, his voice was deep but controlled: "If you want to march to Onea, and have the wind scrape the skin from your flesh, be my guest. We cannot cross that wasteland. We need ships." He took a breath. "We weather the winter. We rebuild. We take what is ours." The rumbling earth seemed to agree. "It would be foolish to fight Hira while our wounds are healing." post 2 | 341 words |
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Post by Chipo-H0P3 on Jul 18, 2017 21:59:34 GMT -6
F A U S T The Last of the Bone Snatchers
WARNING: Foul Language & Poor Grammar Below
...__________________________________________________...
Faust's icy eyes did not leave Gidal's fiery embers since the moment he finished his initial outburst. The stare-down between the two old commanders was so intense the energy between them could have turned someone caught in it to stone. Faust's sides moved dramatically with his heavy breath and it seemed he had struck a cord in Gidal as well since the next words that came out of him were insults directed toward him.
Faust only grew more angry and the anger only made him more stupid. Gidal was putting more effort into subduing him, his equal, than he had his own wayward son. Rage clouded his mind as he tried to search for words to retaliate, but his jaw remained clenched.
Then a voice piped up from behind. It was a female's voice, one of Gidal's daughters, Odina, and to both the combatant stallions' surprise, she agreed with the Bone Snatcher. Faust craned his massive neck to look up the mare. She was a skinny thing and looked a lot like her brothers. Faust was unimpressed but when Gidal moved to charge at her, Faust's teke searched instinctively for his axe, but did not find it. He had left it back at the house he had been sharing with his own daughter, Rose.
The earth shifted beneath them, emphasizing the unrest in the clan and temporarily interrupted the conflict as everyone secured their footing.
Captain Calder resumed the debate with another petition to stay. He was convinced the clan was not ready for battle, that there were too few of them to get the job done.
Synn, a grey and worn looking mare, was the next to make a statement. Her solution to move south seemed to make sense but still too passive for Faust's liking. He wanted a fight. He needed a fight. Kaia had her grip on him for some time. If they waited till everyone was ready he'd be dead before any blood was shed. Despite that though, Synn still thought it best to leave and that was enough for Faust to count her on his side.
So Faust had two voices to back him up and Gidal had one. They were mare voices, sure, but he'd take what he'd get at this point. "If we're not ready now, than when? No one is ever ready for war! But if we wait another winter here, with no supplies or fit shelter, more lives are almost certain to be lost!" Another quake rattled through the walls, though it was less violent than the previous. "When does it end? You've half convinced me you enjoy being banished and miserable here, in this icy prison that StoneHoof Bitch chased you to! YOU WILL NOT TRAP ME HERE WITH YOU GIDAL."
The massive grey stallion strode up to clan leader's side and leaned against him, looking over his scarred shoulder. A raspy threat rose from his throat, "and I am far from giving up command old friend, or may I remind you how the Bone Snatchers deal with incompetent leaders."
Another quake shook through Ghost Hall.
...__________________________________________________... ![]() Word Count: 516 Post # 2 Notes: Feel free to attack Faust or push him away to protect your leader. Or, you know, you could always join him. I'm sure he'll be a great replacement 
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Post by Mad-Manx on Jul 19, 2017 10:17:37 GMT -6
Ualda | Mare | Merchant There was unrest in Ghosthold. That fact had become painfully apparent over the course of the prior days, Vidar's sudden and violent departure doing much more than destroying their home. For many it had destroyed their faith, their pride, their unfaltering determination; everything the Bloody Flanks had stood for for years, brought down in a heartbeat by the very being who had seemed prophesied to bring them to greatness. Even Ualda could not say she had been unaffected by the grim mood that had permeated throughout Ghosthold. An emptiness had seemed to settle within her soul, avoided only by the unrelenting schedule she had placed herself on, scrambling to take account of all the goods they still had at their disposal. They had been counting on the supplies the Trespasser would have brought home to them, but without the fresh supplies and with countless more invaluable items lost in the ensuing chaos, their future looked grim at best. She understood her father's dedication to the place they had called home for several decades, but was that truly worth the loss of life that would surely happen - again? Beyond that, they were no longer presumed dead. Hira would no doubt know of their survival, and to believe that she would merely leave them to grow stronger was a foolish notion. There was once a time she would vehemently argue against leaving the home they had built. But now, weakened and demoralized as they were? The doubts came to invade her mind. In sullen silence she allowed the first arguments to pass by without a comment, listening as the concerns of the clan grew. They were scared, and angry-not without good reason. But now was not the time for rash decisions, one way or another. They were heavily divided as it was, and that division carried with it every potential to decimate what was left of their clan. As the chorus of voices rose into a cacophony of sound, Ualda finally took a moment to step forward, not for the first time cursing Gidal for insisting that he be the one speak instead of allowing a more diplomatic voice to be heard. "What will stop Hira from choosing to march upon us?" Ualda finally spoke, her voice deliberately calm despite raised in order to be heard over the warring voices. "We are no longer dead to the low landers. Our supplies are meager at best, our strength diminished. If they see us as a threat, Ghosthold may not be the stronghold it once was." Post 1 :: 422 words |
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Post by tallshiips on Jul 22, 2017 6:52:52 GMT -6
Cormac
Bloody Flank Raider  Cormac stood, a silent sentry, as his father's booming voice reverberated around the great hall of Ghosthold. He heard, but did not listen: the words were empty and hollow, they lacked passion and conviction. Pain shot through his shoulder - a bolt that began at the damaged joint and shot all the way down to his hoof, and he shut his eyes and gritted his teeth to endure the pain in silence. He faintly registered the gist of Gidal's sentiment: that they should weather out the winter here, barely surviving, just waiting for Hira's soldiers to reach them and wipe them out for good. He grumbled his dissent quietly, before being cut off by Faust's bellowed opinion.
He shook his heavy head gently as his father and the Bone Snatcher bickered like children, each opposing the other's ideas with a conviction that Cormac didn't know how they could muster. How could they know so well what they thought was right, how were they so cemented in their views? He was lost; a leaf on the wind, driftwood in a storm, his life being steered by some unknown force and yet he could not bring himself to stand at the tiller once more. Since Kismet had been wrecked by the wrath of Vidar's rock monstrosity, he'd found nothing worth fighting for.
His half-sister was the next to speak, voicing an opinion in line with that of Faust. Were they really both so foolish as to think that the clan could ever hope to triumph over Hira's armies in this broken and bloodied state? But then they hadn't seen the damage that the last attack had done, he thought bitterly. He was pulled from his contemplation by the roar of unbridled rage and the subsequent tremors of the earth and sent a silent prayer to Kaia that she would calm the shakings. They had already lost so much; they did not need to throw away what they'd clung on to and fought so hard for over the years.
As Calder began to speak, the stallion prepared himself to hear some more suicidal reasoning, even from a stallion that he respected as much as he did Calder. But he was pleasantly surprised by the sentiment expressed by the older stallion, and the grunted his assent although it was too quiet for most of the spectators to hear. He knew, even he knew, that to stay here would be to admit defeat, and show cowardice in the face of hardship. They needed to move, to evolve, and to lie low once again until they were stronger and entirely unified in their cause.
Once again, he tuned out of Faust's rant, watching through half-closed eyes as he strode towards Gidal. He was so tired of all this fighting, this tension, and the feeling that everything could shatter at any point. They were living life on a knife edge.
He felt a silence open up, where everyone seemed to have said their piece and voiced their opinion, and before he knew what he was doing, he was clearing his throat and beginning to speak. "Calder is right - we are not ready for battle." His voice was hoarse from disuse, but as he spoke it got stronger until he was speaking with his usual rich baritone lilt. "But whatever we do, to stay here would be to admit defeat, to hand a welcome banner for Hira's army, and to sign our own death warrants." His eyes now flashed with the fire of conviction, and a passion that he thought had sunk with the wreck of his ship.
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Post by Sargeant-Knoxx on Jul 22, 2017 13:17:50 GMT -6
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"THE CLAN STAYS IN GHOSTHOLD!"
The words of the Gidal still echoed in her skull as her words were swallowed by the sudden and not so surprising confrontation between Faust and the massive Bloody Flank Leader. The two behemoths faced-off with each other, the raw essence of their rage seemed to make the very earth shiver and tremble. Of course, this was but a trick of the mind- the land had been as restless as its inhabitants since the lindworm ripped her soil asunder.
Synn glanced at Ualda as her voice too- despite being a reasonable and respected figure within the clan- was lost to the audience. As mares, they were preaching to the choir.. A ragged ear flicked back and her head followed as a voice piped up behind them- Cormac. She'd almost forgotten he was there, standing statuesque on the fringes of the great hall. She'd almost forgotten until he spoke- and for once it was not declaration of war. Even he understood the severity of things. Knew that whatever came for them, that they would not survive it whilst stagnating here in Ghosthold. Synn gazed at him for a moment, her jade eyes knowing. He'd bee the one to pull from the icy grip of death- perhaps he'd be the one to pull his father's head from his ass.
Synn stepped past Odina, placing herself in an open space within the congregation and stomped her hoof against a stone on the ground, the resounding clack loud enough to silence a few murmurs.
"For Kaia's sake.. Do you hear your people Gidal?! Do you hear your children?!" The scout lifted a splintered hoof and turned slightly, gesturing to the horses gathered there. "Cormac," The ashen horse looked over heads to locked her stare on the draft in the back, her voice carrying now, " your brothers, their families- your family. The future relies on the decisions made today.". Synn had turned her back to the Bone Snatcher and Bloody Flank behind her, sure that they'd either keep their useless bickering or turn on her. The dappled mare would not be ignored, and neither would anyone else here. If these so called stallions chose to act like colts in such a dire time then perhaps she'd have to get their attention...
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Post by fynli on Jul 24, 2017 21:44:59 GMT -6
Odina You can be king again Odina watched as her father fixed his attention on her, her head lifted high in defiance. She held his stare as he approached, her hooves planted firmly on the ground as he bellowed at her. She noticed the pale figure of her mother in her peripheral view and felt Tyra's shoulder press against her flank as a warning. In the awful silence that lingered, Odina flared her nostrils at her father, refusing to step down. Ruby eyes held each other, locked in a nonverbal battle. The ground trembled beneath her but she stood steady. Gidal finally relented. Once he returned to his post, Odina let out a soft breath. Her heart was racing, pounding against her ribs and threatening to batter its way out of her chest. She glanced back at Tyra but found no comfort in the icy blue of her mother's eyes. Instead of speaking again, Odina turned back to what she had done for the majority of her life. Listen. She listened to Faust continue his rampage at her father, to her half-sister whom had decided to speak up as well. Odina shot her a sharp glare, pinning her ears back momentarily. Hadn't she caused enough trouble with the Astrid incident? Odina knew she couldn't place the blame fully on her sister's shoulders but she was the one whom arranged her sisters' marriages.
She would have arranged Odina's if that misfortune had ever fallen on her. Synn left her side but the witch didn't notice. Her attention had left the bickering clan and was now wrapped up in her own thoughts. She wished vehemently to be by her brother's side, doing whatever the hell he was sent to do. It would've been more interesting than hearing a bunch of old men yell at each other.
Words: 298 Post #2
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Post by Deleted on Jul 25, 2017 20:16:49 GMT -6
Gidal after all this suffering, i could lie here for good Wordless fury built up in Gidal's gut as one by one, his clan stood against him. His heart burned. What more did he have to do? Was it not enough to carry the burden of a clan -a burden he, the youngest son, was never born to shoulder- across a continent, through despair? Was it not enough to dig a home out of this frozen hell with his own hooves? Was it not enough to pull the skeletons of their sunken battleships from the cold depths, and resurrect their hope? What more did it take to earn their trust? What more was there to give?
Gidal had swallowed the grief of a hundred deaths, remained unbroken by the losses of seven children, met the gaze of oblivion through starvation and plague, and never blinked. He'd done the impossible for this clan. He asked for their patience, one winter of resilience, and they spat in his face.
Every day in Ghosthold was a battle against the temptation to surrender, to lay down in the snow, to join the sons and daughters that he mourned in eternal silence. He felt that temptation now. As his eyes burned through the crowd, dark and grief-stricken and pondering, Ysolda watched his face in fear. The earth was shaking again, harder now, responding to the Earth Manipulator's growing ire, and she gasped softly as her equilibrium began to teeter.
Gidal's growing emotion was interrupted by a loud crack from somewhere in the beams supporting the Ghosthall. His eyes widened as he looked up, stunned, and it became apparent that this tremor was more than Gidal's magic. The quake grew more violent, swinging the hanging torches in the hall, cracking the ice wall behind the clean leader. He leaped to Ysolda's side just as the groaning roof came down.
You did not have time to watch your leader and his wife be crushed by the falling beams. The Bloody Flank Clan fell into darkness together.
post 3 | 328 wordsCOLLAPSE!The wounded ground beneath Ghosthold has shifted, opening a sinkhole that has torn Ghosthall asunder. As aftershocks rumble through the earth and ice, rubble continues to settle and you are in a race against time to free your buried clanmates and reach safety. CLICK HERE FOR GAMEPLAY GUIDE> : ) Thanks for being my unsuspecting guinea pigs for a new kind of plot!
hit me up in the skype chat if you have questions, and GOOD LUCK |
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Post by Sargeant-Knoxx on Jul 25, 2017 22:17:44 GMT -6
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Post by Sargeant-Knoxx on Jul 26, 2017 0:53:59 GMT -6
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The earth trembled fiercely, and Synn was uncertain if her words had struck a chord in such a way that Gidal's rage had seeped into the ground or if it was merely another tremor. Oh how wrong she was..
The sky was the one to fall.
As the ground beneath her hooves shifted and shook the cavernous ceiling of ice and ancient wood that made up Ghosthold's hall creaked and moaned. Synn watched in shock as horses either panicked or froze as she did. They had to get out, they had to move for the exits.. Odina! Time moved in slow motion as the ashen mare leapt forward to aid her crew-mate and Tyra, one of Gidal's many wives, as well as Odina's mother. But the ceiling caved and the world tilted sideways before she could even come within a stride.. Everything went dark and screams filled her ears for a brief moment before the shadows consumed her consciousness completely..
Throbbing. Throbbing in her haunches.
Plip... Plip... Plip..
There was a warm wetness on her brow, stinging her eyes. The equine raised her scarred head slowly as another drop of the warm substance stained her face. Pain.. there was pressure on her hind end and dirt between teeth that didn't belong. Synn dared she could taste blood, was it hers? The the angled cavern of wood and frozen earth that she'd become encased in was near black save for a sliver of light coming from above. Blinking away the stinging sensation, jade eyes ventured a glance upwards, dust settling on something just above her. The sorrel flanks she made out just beyond were unmoving, she couldn't make out who it was, the only thing Synn knew for sure was that the blood in her mouth and on her face was not hers. The rining in her head subsided after a few more moments and it was then that everything slowly started to come into focus.. She was breathing harder than she thought, and her hooves, she could move each one.
The dappled horse had been lucky.. Perhaps luckier than those she heard crying out now. Could they hear her then?
Synn coughed, spitting dirt from her mouth and laying her head back down in the blood of their fallen brother. She had to get out, to help. Her mind began to move faster than her breath, wondering just who was alive- just who had been spared from yet another disaster? At this rate, they'd loose just as many to the land as they would to the cold winter..
"Hmph..!" the mare kicked out, her hoof scraping the wood with a violent grating noise. She could move, but the section of hull that held her there was much heavier than it looked. "Dammit! Come on!" She grunted, pulling up her elbow and attempting to push up and away from the deeper shadows beneath her.
Synn's gaze was once more drawn to the light. "Is anybody there?!" she glanced at the hide of the horse who'd fallen victim to the collapse, trying to pry details. She settled for kicking the wood some more, the noise hopefully loud enough to signal anyone nearby that she was there. "I could use some help!" Synn called, her neck straining to keep her eyes on the opening, and the dead equine.
Keep kicking.
ThWACKK! THWACKK!
Post| 3
|WC| 559
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Game-Post #1
Synn used CUNNING 65/50 - Synn now has 40 CUNNING |
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Post by fynli on Jul 31, 2017 0:40:19 GMT -6
Odina You can be king again A loud crack brought her attention back to the present and Odina looked up in time to see Synn leaping towards her.
Then there was darkness.
Screams pierced the air as the ground buckled and sunk underneath her hooves. Unable to see very well, the mare could only stumble back and hope to the gods that she was on stable land. Her mother ran through her mind and she called for Tyra, panic flooding through her veins as she received nothing but silence. Then she heard her name being called over the chaos and judged from the distance that her mother was safe.
Taking a moment to let her eyes adjust to her surroundings, Odina peered across the wreckage, ears pinned back in shock at the ruin. She couldn't see her father, nor several others in the clan. Were they all dead? What about Synn?
"Synn!" She cried over the terrified voices that ricocheted in the broken hall. Oh gods if Synn was dead, she'd never forgive herself.
Carefully, Odina made her way through the shifting rubble, trusting her lighter weight to not cause anymore damage. "Synn?" She called again, pausing in her movement to listen.
There! She heard what she thought was hooves connecting to wood, then Synn's voice calling from below. Relief rushed through her as she made her way closer, calling out to Synn to tell her that she was coming.
Gathering her strength, the brindled mare focused her teke on a fallen beam. She pulled it back forcefully, setting to work on pulling more debris out of the way. Ignoring the ache in her muscles, Odina worked single handedly to dig out Synn. Soon, she saw the grey mare, along with another body. Deciding that figuring out who it was was unimportant right now; Synn was the only one moving.
"I got you," Odina smiled reassuringly at her friend, hoping the source of the blood wasn't too critical.
With the last remnants of her strength, she worked on pulling Synn out of the wreckage. Once the mare was out, Odina quickly checked over her face, frowning at the blood staining her. "Are you alright?"
Words: 358 Post #3
Game post #2
Odina used 50 STRENGTH - Odina now has 25 STRENGTH
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Post by Chipo-H0P3 on Jul 31, 2017 20:37:44 GMT -6
F A U S T The Last of the Bone Snatchers
WARNING: Foul Language & Poor Grammar Below
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All at once, Ghosthall came down upon the clansmen in a thunderous roar that ended in silence. The entire clan was buried beneath the ice and ancient lumber. Faust broke away from the ruble in a fury. The situation he found himself in only seemed to get worse as more bodies emerged from the ground and began to call for each other. His cold eyes locked on Odina as she moved to free Synn. The grey mare seemed to be relatively fine. If only the brother beside her had been so lucky. 'Shit.' They needed raiders if they were ever going to take the mainland. Their numbers were few before but now, there was no telling how many were left. Worse yet, He'd lost sight of Gidal.
"GIDAL!!?" Faust shouted into the air, "COME OUT HERE GIDAL, I'M NOT FINISHED WITH YOU!" There was still no sign of him. "Dammit!" "WHERE ARE THE FUCKING MEDICS?"
The old unicorn searched for any familiar faces he recognized as having worked with his daughter. It was a difficult task since he previously had no interest in remembering any of them, but he managed to find one. A spotted ginger mare desperately rummaging through the debris and ignoring her duties. "OI! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? TEND TO THE INJURED!!" Faust stomped over to the young mare, thinking that he could intimidate her to her senses but she didn't flinch. Her eyes, though filled with tears, were strong with conviction. "NOT UNTIL I KNOW FREY IS SAFE! I can't help anyone until I find him!"
Her unexpected counter took Faust aback. He gritted his teeth as he weighed his possibilities. Intimidation didn't work on her and the Flanks needed her ability too much for him to push her around. That left only one option. "Who the fuck is Frey?"
Before, the medic, could answer, a whiny voice cracked out from under a table that had been crushed by a block of ice. "DAAAAG GET ME FUCK OUT OF HERE!" Dag's face instantly tore away from Faust's at the sound of her beloved's shriek. "OH Kaia, that's him!"
Dag was too weak to free him but she offered plenty of verbal support that Frey didn't seem to be taking. Faust thought they were a pair of idiots.
"Get out of the way, I'll get him out." Faust shoved Dag off with a quick push of his giant head, so that he could put an end to both their squealing.
"Wait no! find someone else! DAAAAAAAG!" Frey only grew more louder the closer Faust got to him.
Once the ice was kicked out of the way, the old stallion focused his teke on lifting the heavy table. Out from the shadows a wide pair of pale blue eyes stared in terror at their savior.
The savior spoke, "Move or I'm dropping this on ya."
Frey bolted. The dark stallion was far easier to intimidate than his fangirl. He was a useless raider, but he was safe and now Faust had a medic.
...__________________________________________________... ![]() Word Count: 505 Post #3 Game Post #3 Faust used STRENGTH 75/100 - Faust now has 75 STRENGTH
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Post by Mad-Manx on Jul 31, 2017 22:07:54 GMT -6
Ualda | Mare | Merchant
Ualda's ears flicked back in mild annoyance as her comments were all but brushed aside by the irate stallions, though she allowed little else to voice her discontentment as she grew quiet once more, pausing to listen as others added their concerns to the pool. From the corner of her eye she caught Odina's pointed glare, though chose to ignore it as she focused on the far more pressing matters at hand. Her siblings could think what they will of her; everything she had ever done had been to benefit her clan, of that she bore no doubts. Mistakes or not, she'd always been working towards the greater good of her family. Her father was growing ever more agitated, and in turn the very earth seemed to be responding to his swelling emotions. At first it was easy enough to ignore the interruptions, the groaning earth an almost ever constant consequence Vidar had left in his wake, but then something seemed to shift towards the more sinister. The shakes grew suddenly stronger in fury, and Ualda's crimson eyes widened in shock as a vicious crack resounded throughout what was left of Ghosthall. There was little time to feel, little time to think, as once more the very ground beneath them seemed to have been torn asunder. Pillars that had stood for decades collapsed under their own weight, above them the very roof shook to the point of breaking. It was only due to her own quick reactions did Ualda avoid being pinned underneath a massive beam, although the wood left an arc of bloodied flesh across her back and flank and a relentless ringing in her ears after managing to clip her all the same. Scarlet liquid dripped from her heaving sides, but already her eyes were scanning her ever collapsing world, paying little heed to what she could already tell was not a life-threatening injury. In the span of seconds, several of her clan mates had disappeared from sight, but already some were clambering from the debris. Those that were mobile could aid themselves, though what seemed to be a mix of hysterical sobbing and yelling caught her attention. There was Dag, a medic she had come to know, calling out hysterically for Frey. Faust had seemed to have beat her out of the rubble, and whether out of true altruism or -probably more likely- in an attempt to quiet the panic stricken duo, was working at destroying the stones that held Frey captive. Taking an unsteady step forward, wincing as she put pressure on her foreleg that had already sustained damage in Vidar's farewell, she hobbled towards the still tearful Dag. Ualda failed to hear the words Faust spoke, though given the way Frey bolted as though his flank was on fire, she highly doubted it was anything even remotely reassuring. Just as well, Ualda thought as she neared Dag's side, his whining wasn't going to be raising anyone's moral.
"Dag!" Ualda called calmly but forcefully as she reached the sobbing medic's side, her heaving breathes only punctured by broken words involving Frey and his safety. She could have rolled her eyes, but instead called out again urgently, trying to be patient for the mare's sake. "Dag, Dag we need you to focus," Ualda continued, gently approaching the anxious mare while letting her shoulder rest against hers. "Frey is safe, I promise," she soothed, though already her eyes were darting around to the chaos that surrounded them. They would need a medic, of that she was dead certain, and right now Dag was their best chance. "You saw Faust dig him out. He's waiting outside, you can see him soon, but first we need your help, okay?" Ualda continued, watching carefully as the distraught mare quieted down, still sniffling, but giving soft nods as she spoke. Relief blossomed in Ualda's chest as the medic complied, and easing herself away she strained her eyes to see through the settling dust. Post 2 :: 661 wordsGame Post #4
UALDA used 50 WISDOM - UALDA now has 25 WISDOM |
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Post by Sargeant-Knoxx on Aug 7, 2017 2:12:33 GMT -6
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A voice, as unmistakable as it was relieving, pierced through the slowly thickening veil of panic that had begun to grip the dappled mare. Thank the Godesses.. "Odina!" Synn called to her young friend, and noticed the way that the light danced when the witch came to a stop near her hole. The weight of the ceiling seemed to give up a little as a beam was hoisted and dragged away. "That's it, I- I think I can move.." Grunting with effort,the scout squeezed her shoulder up and began to drag herself outwards, Odina's hooves and teke making fast work of the debris in her way.
"I got you," Synn glanced up and caught her smile as the older horse pulled her sore hindquarters from under the ceiling and came to stand before Odina. Without thinking she wrapped her neck over Odina's shoulder.
"Thank goodness you're alright." the grey retreated almost as quickly as she had embraced her. Jade eyes quickly went to work scanning her surroundings. It seemed most everyone was accounted for- but Synn knew for certain that there were more buried, just as she had been. Or worse.. more like the unfortunate soul in the background. Her gaze swept upwards, cloudy skies made up the roof now, where there had once been wood. They now stood in a sunken remnant of the great overturned ship- Ghost Hall having sunken itself within the earth. Lost in thought and shock, Synn failed to realize Odina was staring her down until she asked that simple question..
The scarred female turned her bloodied face away, looking at the body of the fallen. "Don't worry about me- 'Blood ain't mine anyway.." a shadow crossed her features as determination set in. All around them equines were pulling themselves or others from the catastrophe. Some were making their way out of the pit, but even more were scrounging through the remnants and calling out for friends and family. Synn didn't doubt Odina's will, she wasn't weak by any means so the words 'Get to safety.' didn't even cross her mind when she turned to her crew-mate "Come on, we have to help the others..". She could hear Faust's booming voice over the din as her eyes swept over the carnage of the collapsed ship. She wandered a few paces, before a groan caught her ear. "Hey-" her pace quickened, a slight limp in her step and she rounded a a section of beams and collapsed ceiling.
A familiar pale coat- although it was covered in soot- made Synn stop dead in her tracks. "Ysolda?" Synn raised her head, eyes wide. "We need a medic!" The mare bellowed, ears laying back before she turned back to the fallen wife of Gidal. Titles and authority meant little right now, every Flank was valuable, every life precious. "Odina, See if your father is nearby- Ysolda, can you hear me?"
The frail horse lifted her head weakly in turn, but otherwise seemed unable to move or respond.. Synn glanced back, she was in bad shape..
-
Dag's ears pricked at the call and she gazed glossy-eyed at Ualda before turning and carefully trotting to the source of the call, slowly overcoming the urge to find Frey. She had a duty to fulfill. "Who's down there?" the speckled horse sniffled one last time, coming around the same bend that Synn had crossed and brushing past Odina to spot Ysolda on the lower ledge.
"It's Ysolda- I don't think she can move." Synn stepped back, ready to assist but well aware that she didn't have the sort of help that the old mare needed, Dag was her best chance.
"I'll see what I can do.." the little equine slid forward and began to assess the damage before setting to work with her blessing. Soon enough, Ysolda began to cough, strength seeming to return to her dusty limbs. "Gidal.. He was right next to me.." the mare rasped, sitting up slightly. Both the medic and the wife looked up at the mares above and Synn's ears laid back. A pit nestled itself in the dapple's gut at the thought that Gidal was possibly.. gone.
Post|4
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Game-Post #5
Synn used NO STATS - +25 to CUNNING 65/65
Dag used HEALING REGEN. |
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Post by ebbarie on Aug 8, 2017 1:53:30 GMT -6
Calder | Bloody Flanks | Elder's Circle
I've got blood, I've got blood on my name
when the fires, when the fires
are consuming you
and your sacred stars won't be guiding you
I've got blood, I've got blood
blood on my name
The old captain had fallen into a gloomy silence, the ears pinned closely to his neck. He didn’t recognized the clan that had gathered inside the Ghosthall today. Bitterness soaked into his mind when he finally understood that the great clan of the past had long gone. The ones old enough to remember where almost all gone. Youngsters without knowledge of the clans old glory and strangers from foreign lands had filled their rows. Maybe they had been foolish to think that they could maintain the clan that way.
Maybe they had shoveled the clan’s grave all this years without realizing it.
Calder looked up when he felt the earth beneath his hooves starting to tremble, and for a moment he thought it was Gidal. It had to be his leader, using his earth manipulation to call his people to order, or maybe just activating it out of anger…
Then the ground beneath his hooves broke into pieces and he fell, alongside his fellow flanks, into the darkness under the great hall.
The old stallion felt the shock on the ground through his whole body. His bones trembled under the pressure, but they withstand. Smaller stones hit him and he kept his head down until the steady stream of pebbles that trickled down on him had stopped.
Gradually voices appeared all around him, some closer, some farther away and only a weak whisper.
Slowly Calder rose to his feet again, a little wobbly at the start, but then soon got better after he assured himself that the ground wouldn’t start to tremble again.
The bloody bay stallion let his gaze wander around, until he could see some well-known figures nearby. A voice reached his ears and he immediately trotted forwards. Ysolda.
At first he wasn’t able to see her at all, instead Synn and Dag came into sight. Both appeared to be relatively unharmed and looked down to the ground . When he came closer he was able to spot the old mare in the wreckage.
“Let me help” he offered but his voice made clear that he wouldn’t accept any objections right now.
Since Dag was here, Calder assumed that the clan leader's wife had already been healed to a certain degree, now they just had to get her freed. “Ysolda, I want you to stay calm and motionless when I move the wreckage away, alright? Good.”
The stallion hesitated for a second, trying to fight the thoughts about what might had happened to Gidal, and concentrate on the task before him.
He took a deep breath and tightened his telekinetic grasp around the beams and parts of the collapsed ceiling that had buried the mare under it. Slowly but surely, he removed carefully on part after the other and even if he actually should harry, he took his time. The last thing that he needed right now was that he made a mistake that would lead to Ysolda getting even more injured again.
Finally, a few minutes later he lifted the last beam from one of the mare's legs and helped her getting up.
“Are you alright?” he asked and now that she was freed the worry came back. “Ysolda, you need to help us find Gidal”
Post #2 | Wordcount 538
Game Post # 6
Calder has used Strenght 75/100 - Calder now has 50 Strenght
Ysolda is rescued |
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Post by Deleted on Aug 10, 2017 9:03:26 GMT -6
Ysolda & Gidal i cant believe you've done this As Ysolda healed, her ribby sides heaved slowly. She watched her wounds shut with the indifference expected of a hardened Bloody Flank matriarch, but when Calder spoke of Gidal, her face fell. As the captain helped Ysolda to her feet, she leaned on him unsteadily and looked back to the rubble where she'd been buried. "I could see him," she said. "Beneath the beam."
As if on cue, Gidal coughed from the darkness. His voice was raw when he spoke: "I'm here." There was a long moment of hesitation before the old raider could admit weakness. "I can't move." this post does not count toward your total. Gidal has been found, and will now only require two posts to free. post 1- Destroy the beam: 50 Vitality and 50 Strength post 2- Rescue Gidal: 25 Strength |
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Post by tallshiips on Aug 10, 2017 12:44:12 GMT -6
C o r m a c
Bloody Flank Raider
cormac used 50 vitality & 50 strength to destroy beam
95 -> 70 & 100 -> 75 The dark stallion closed his eyes and gritted his teeth as the deep rumbling began its crescendo. When it did not subside quickly, instead reaching a deafening fortissimo, he squared his stance: preparing for the worst. And the worst it was, and more than his twisted imagination could even conjure. He flattened his ears to his neck as the ceiling above him fractured, and the whole world began to fall apart.
He opened his eyes to survey the destruction a short while later - moments, seconds, minutes, he had no idea. As his eyes adjusted to the light, pain came rushing to him like a tsunami, enveloping him and filling his mind with inky blackness. Cormac was forced to grit his teeth once again and wait for the wave to subside to something closer to a manageable level before he could think in a straight line. He looked around for the source of the pain, eyes doing ten to the dozen as he scanned the area around him, before they settled on a section of broken plank lying on his left. He reasoned that it must have struck him as it plummeted from its ancient home as part of the Ghost Hall's roof, dislodged by the 'quake.
Grunting, he tested some of his weight on the injured leg, sending sparks of pain like lightning through his shoulders; fireworks bursting at every nerve ending. But he was distracted by some movement in his peripheral vision - Synn and Calder and Faust searching and digging and hauling parts of the fallen Hall away from clan mates who had been less fortunate than themselves. He looked over the faces of the horses they were aiding, looking for the familiar face of his father among them. But, to his dismay, he saw nothing but a medic and an hysterical colt running from the ruins of the room.
Dismayed and afraid for the older stallion's situation, he hobbled over to Calder whom he hoped would be an enlightening voice of reason on the topic. Perhaps he'd already been found, and was outside, safely waiting for the rest of the clan to emerge. And yet he knew it wasn't true - Gidal would never leave members of his clan buried while he himself was free, for he was far too noble a leader, even when the aforementioned members had been discounting his ideas and creating their own plans. With a stab of guilt, Cormac knew that he, too, had been one of those clan members, and yet he couldn't find it in himself to agree with his father. Staying in Ghosthold over winter would still be a mistake, and one that surely spelled the end of the clan that had once been so great.
By the time that he reached Calder, however, he could see that the Elder was helping Ysolda, conversing with her in worried tones, and he drew close enough to catch their unison look towards a large fallen beam and then, though distorted by the unusual acoustics of the rubble cavern, the unmistakable voice of his father.
"Gidal!" Cormac called to his father, relief evident in his cry. With all thoughts of his own pain forced from his mind, he leapt forwards and towards the source of the voice. When he reached the area that the voice seemed to have come from, he leaned down and peered into the darkness, although he was unable to make out anything in the entire darkness of the shadows. His mind was a jumble of different thoughts, incomplete and incoherent, as he slammed his (non-injured) shoulder into the body of the beam, grunting in a guttural mix of pain and exertion. The beam began to glow crimson with his teke as he heaved against the old wood once more, and this time it slipped a little.
It only slipped forwards half an inch or so, but it was enough to fuel the fire raging within him, and gave him the hope to continue in his endeavour. Sweat that began as beads on his brow was soon streaming down his sides with the effort, but he did not seem to tire in his work, as if he was in some kind of trance. Eventually, the gap he'd created was large enough for him to see his father, trapped beneath some smaller planks and pieces of rubble that he discarded with his teke, before stepping back to let his father climb out of the crater of his own accord. If he knew his father, he would be too proud to accept any help out of the crater and Cormac was happy to oblige. He was exhausted, sides heaving and steaming with the effort of moving the beam, and the pain from his injury was beginning to creep back as the rush from the adrenaline subsided and his mind began to clear.
804 words || post 2
game post #7
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Post by Sargeant-Knoxx on Aug 10, 2017 14:40:14 GMT -6
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Calder appeared, relatively unscathed from the looks of it, and the grey coated scout stepped aside to allow the old stallion to assist the willowy and weak Ysolda from the side of the short slope. The blood on her face was beginning to dry and itch, picking up dust as everything settled, that was when Ysolda's words caught her attention- Synn ventured once more to the edge, peering down past planks of wood and old ceiling, ice and earth intermingling between. A cough. A voice.
Gidal was alive.
Synn felt a swath of emotions come over her, but relief was probably the strongest. Their leader's beliefs and ideals may have been stuck in a time gone by but that didn't make him any less of a leader- they couldn't afford to lose him now. Not when so much tragedy had already befallen the Flanks. The dappled mare looked back as another face came into view, Cormac. "Right behind you, get that beam." she descended with him on careful hooves, knowing well that he couldn't do it alone. Of course, she wasn't one of Gidal's trusted, but definitions of loyalty were truly questioned in crisis. The draft began putting his all into hefting up one of the great rafters that had once spanned the belly of the overturned ship, his shoulder quaking as the exertion became clear on his face.
"Hold it fast Cormac.." Synn glanced up at him as she ducked down to go deeper, those jade eyes steady. It was her heart that was out of control. It hammered in her chest like a war-drum, bringing heat to her lungs as she drew in on Gidal. Whether the old war-chief argued against her assistance or not, the grey did not care. No matter what sort of stony cold looks he may have thrown her way she ignored them. Instead she set herself to pulling away the slabs and beams until the unicorn could lift himself. "Are you hurt?" monotone and under her breath came the question. Her shoulder bolstered against his as they climbed, ready to take on some weight if he slipped.
"There are more trapped-" she mentioned, wondering what sort of orders he may have for them- he wouldn't leave his clan-mates behind she knew, but what about the dead or the dying? What happened after all this? They passed under the large beam that Cormac stood sentry for and they emerged onto stable ground.
Post|5
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Game-Post #8
Synn used STRENGTH 70/50 - Synn now has 20 STRENGTH
GIDAL has been RESCUED.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 10, 2017 19:48:58 GMT -6
gidal
after all this suffering, i could lie here for good
Whatever bile Gidal might have usually spit about being rescued by a woman--the same woman he'd forbidden to join her captain on his life-saving mission-- died in his throat when she destroyed the beam that had pinned his back. The numbness in his hind legs, the searing pain down his barrel, did not subside when the rubble was lifted. A muffled roar curled his tongue against his clenched teeth, contorted his face as he tried to stand. With the eyes of the clan on him, he pulled his bloody knees under his chest and raised his front end from the ground.
His hind legs did not follow suit.
He tried once more, in vain, breathing heavy. Under the scrutiny of the Flanks, he steeled his expression. He stopped struggling in front of their frightened, pitying eyes and sat up as tall as he could while his useless back legs were curled motionless beneath him.
As he had many times before, he swallowed his agony. "Keep moving!" He ordered from where he sat in the bloody snow, taking command before his clan could think too hard about the future. Gidal's hind legs are permanently paralyzed.
He cannot use his Strength or Vitality.
Gidal's Earth Manipulation and Command actions are still in play.
Gidal's freedom has added +4 to your time limit. At the end of your thread, Gidal will require the aid of two horses to be moved to safety. This will not count toward your time limit, and is optional. |
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Post by ebbarie on Aug 11, 2017 3:10:55 GMT -6
Calder | Bloody Flanks | Elder's Circle
I've got blood, I've got blood on my name
when the fires, when the fires
are consuming you
and your sacred stars won't be guiding you
I've got blood, I've got blood
blood on my name
The moment Ysolda rose to her feet, Calder could hear the steps of another horse nearing. Cormac wore an anxious expression on his face, but appeared luckily unharmed. The old stallion knew were the captains worry came from, he was probably looking for his father.
Before he could say something to him, Ysolda spoke and then, another silent, but unmistakable voice appeared.
Without realizing it Calder released a shaky, relieved breath. Thank Kaia...Gidal was alive. He didn’t sounded too good, but at least he was still here.
Immediately Cormac and Synn dashed to the old unicorns side, helping each other digging him out of the wreckage.
“He’ll be alright. Your husband is tough as rock.” he said and gave Ysolda a gentle nudge at the shoulder. She had always been fragile, and today's events didn’t do any good to her condition. It would be better if she’d leave to safety once she had the chance to see her husband.
More parts of the destroyed ceiling could come down at any time. They had to hurry, all of them.
Calder watched how Gidal tried to get to his feet again and it wasn’t possible to miss the fact that something was wrong with their leader. He was injured, but as always he tried to act strong. And right now he really had to.
When he ordered his commands he turned again to Ysolda. “Can you stand alone? I’ll look if I find someone else in need of help” the Elder said and slowly moved away from her to be sure that she stood safely on her feet.
Calder walked carefully over the uneven ground, until he noticed something pale out of the corner of his eye. As soon as he came closer, he was able to hear some upset grunting from the ground.
“Njal, is that your pale ass down there?” the bay unicorn asked and started to lift up some of the beams that piled up upon his fellow raider. He didn’t seemed badly hurt, just really pissed.
Njal had been buried in a position that you only could describe as painfully uncomfortable and as soon as he was able to adjust his limbs slightly, he started to help removing the wreckage that held him down.
Soon he rose to his feet, and without a thanks he started to walk towards the exit.
“HEY! What do you think you are doing? There are still some of your fellow clanmates in need of help?!”
There was disbelief and anger in Calder’s voice, but he knew that that wouldn't have any affect on Njal.
Post #3 | Wordcount 433
Game post #9
Calder used Strength 75/50. He now has 50 strength. |
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Post by Mad-Manx on Aug 11, 2017 10:11:17 GMT -6
Ualda | Mare | Merchant
Odina, Synn, Calder, Cormac, Dag, Frey, Ysolda, and now Gidal - Ualda counted each of them off in her mind, one by one. There had been others present in Ghosthall before the roof above collapsed down on them, of that much she was certain. It was already painfully clear that some of them lay motionless scattered throughout the rubble, but there was little time to dwell on that yet. Leave mourning until those still alive were successfully pried from the rubble. It was with that in mind that Ualda set off shuffling, hindered by her injured side but her head still swinging about as she sought out another body, another voice. Gidal's gruff encouragement caught her attention for a moment, and Ualda briefly paused, eyeing her father. Dust still hung thick in the air, and every so often it seemed that the earth itself settled further down, but even with her vision somewhat obscured she could tell something was wrong with their leader. His hind legs were twisted at an unnatural angle, laying limp and useless curled beneath his body. The sight sent a cold tingle arcing across her chest, though she worked to tear her gaze away from him. He would not appreciate her pity nor her fear for what a crippled leader meant for their future. There was work to be done now, and Ualda was hardly one to leave a job half finished. A faint cough suddenly caught her attention, and pausing to strain her ears she stilled herself with bated breath. There, the cough came again, and moving forward she glanced down at a gap in the piled rubble. "Bergen?" Ualda called out, recognizing the dark bay coat beyond the beams. Dropping herself down and grasping with her teke, Ualda tried in vain to dig out her clan mate, to no avail. The beams were far beyond her ability, and sides heaving, she turned to face those already freed. "I've found Bergen!" Ualda bellowed, ensuring her voice was heard above the general din of the area. "I need help!"--- "And what the do you think you're doing?" Gidal growled, his crimson eyes snapping to Njal's as he noticed the Raider's untimely attempt at a departure. His words and tone were enough to make Njal pause for a moment, but not halt his departure.
"Getting out of this hellhole," came the grumbled response, his eyes already set on one of the nearby exits.
"LIKE HELL YOU ARE," Gidal roared, this time succeeding in halting the Raider. "Get your ass back here and help your damn clan," he continued, although crippled, his presence just as intimidating as ever.
Njal clearly wasn't happy with this turn of events, but with ears pinned back and grumbling a multitude of obscenities under his breath, he slowly turned around and began making his way towards where Ualda called for aid.
Post 3 :: 477 wordsGame Post #10
UALDA used 100 CUNNING - UALDA now has 75 CUNNING
GIDAL uses COMMAND on NJAL |
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Post by tallshiips on Aug 11, 2017 14:33:19 GMT -6
C o r m a c
Bloody Flank Raider
cormac used 75 strength to rescue roki
75 -> 50As the haze of adrenaline was lifted from his vision, and his heavy breathing began to calm, Cormac's heart sunk. His father, though alive, was clearly badly injured: sat on the floor of the hall like a mourning pup, eyes heavy with the weight of his predicament. Gidal, great and noble warrior for the Flanks in his time, would be reduced to having to rely on his clan for even the most basic of tasks, and Cormac understood better than most how that would break his spirit and injure his pride. They were of similar mind, father and son, cast from the same mould, even if they had taken slightly different paths in their lives. Although Gidal was not looking, his son nodded respectfully to him, a gesture of understanding and solidarity. No injury could erase the past, nor make his clan forget what a great warrior he had been in his time. But Cormac feared that those who had those memories were already gone: carried away prematurely in battle or by illness, or whisked off by his deluded brother to a fairytale land that was no doubt still in one piece.
The stallion was ripped from his reverie by the piercing cry of a trapped mare, her plea resonating hauntingly in the remains of the Ghost Hall. Looking once more at Gidal, he hobbled away towards the sound, forcing himself to push his own pain from his mind. It could be dealt with later, after the fact. When there was no risk of anybody being buried by any further aftershocks.
He found the source of the cries in what used to be a corner of the hall, a pegasus mare who went by the name of Roki. She was whimpering with distress, eyes wide and pleading, although she at first glance did not seem to be injured beyond the superficial. As he scanned her wings, though, he saw the cause of her pain: one silken bat wing was trapped under the fallen rubble, the fragile flesh in danger of being ripped if she so much as sneezed. Speaking soothing words that he remembered once having been spoken to him, he stepped down into the small crater and began to work with his teke, painstakingly removing small pieces of rubble until only the largest was left.
"Roki? Roki - when I lift this, I won't be able to hold it for very long. You will have to pull your wing out as fast as you can, and then I suggest you get out of here before the sky falls in again. Okay?"
He waited for her nod of confirmation before he began, grunting once more with the exertion until the great chunk of ceiling moved upwards a few inches - enough for her to escape, but nothing more.
"Quickly!" He called, though it was scarcely more than a whisper as all his concentration was on not breaking the telekinetic connection. Sweat beaded on his brow where only minutes ago it had dried, and he narrowed his eyes to try and reduce the strain. Finally, after what seemed like an age but in reality was probably only a few moments, the mare was free. No sooner had she got to her wobbly legs than she was bolting for the exit, calling hasty thanks over her shoulder as she went.
The rubble dropped with an almighty crash.
560 words || post 3
game post #11
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Post by Chipo-H0P3 on Aug 12, 2017 19:50:42 GMT -6
F A U S T The Last of the Bone Snatchers
WARNING: Foul Language & Poor Grammar Below
...__________________________________________________...
Faust watched intensly as Gidal was pulled from his tomb by Synn. Any other time, he would have laughed at his friend for needing to be rescued by a mare, but something about the situation killed the humor he would have found it. Gidal was alive but his body was badly damaged. 'Shit' This wasn't supposed to happen. He didn't want this. 'SHIT.' How were they supposed to take on the war lord now?
The grey giant stood in the wreckage filled with mixed emotions. Rage, remorse, pity, guilt, all weighed down his heart, but there was no time to acknowledge them. The aftershocks were still coming and there were still many more trapped beneath the twice sunken ship.
Faust tuned in on Ualda's cry for help. Another raider needed to be saved and by the sound of it, they were in bad condition. Gidal ordered another raider, Njal, to assist. The old green eyed stallion was one of the few clansmen Faust had known before their banishment. He was an ass. Probably one as big as himself.
"Let's go Njal, I'll aid you." The other only grunted in response.
...__________________________________________________... ![]() Word Count: 208 Post #4 Game Post #12 Faust used STRENGTH - Faust now has 50 STRENGTH Njal used STRENGTH - Njal now has 50 STRENGTH Bergen is rescued
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Post by Sargeant-Knoxx on Aug 13, 2017 13:24:01 GMT -6
![]() |S Y N N|
They'd made to move, and yet Gidal was rooted to the spot. The stallion did his best to heave his body from the cold ground only to pause again in well-masked agony. In that moment, his ragged expression steeled.
"Keep moving!" he ordered, his ability to motivate through his baritone alone still intact. But he stayed there, not able to stand. The sight put a bad taste on her tongue.. Laying her ears back, Synn turned and stepped away without question, understanding the urgency even more as another rippling wake stirred the settled carnage even further. her legs braced, and though it stopped the point was clear. They had to move, and fast. Voices rose up and a mixture of dust and soot billowed skyward in places at the earth's whim. Synn turned her attention to Dag briefly giving a nod. "Come on, we're running out of time. The old man is stubborn, he will wait." The medic hesitated, but followed Synn as she went about searching for more survivor's. The grey's tattered ears were pricked- strained- to catch any sound of the trapped or wounded. The mares walked side by side for a moment, Dag's brow furrowing.
"How many were there..?" came her worried tone, " Frey and I were-"
"There's no telling until we're all on the ground." the scout grunted, interrupting the young equine's train of thought before glancing up the incline to the edge of the sinkhole where several faces peered down. Women and children. The old and unable. A few cowards sat in the mix but that wasn't something to worry about right now..
"I need help!" came Ualda's cry, and both the scout and the medic looked over in turn. Bergen had been buried?
Dag wasted no time in picking her way across the rubble to watch the large raiders heave away broken sections of ceiling and destroy rocks, awaiting a chance to see the damage that was inflicted on the bay horse.
"He's wounded.. I need room!" The petite mare knelt down once space was granted and began to work her blessing again, the stress creasing lines in her dark face as sweat built up on her flanks from the effort to heal the fallen raider. Synn approached the group, ready to assist if it was needed.
Post|6
|WC| 383
|Notes|
Game-Post #13
Synn used NO STATS - +25 to STRENGTH 45/70
Dag used HEALING REGEN. BERGEN has been AIDED.
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