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Post by Queerly on Jul 18, 2017 20:15:04 GMT -6
Amadeus was startled awake by his juvenile dragon's screams. Instinct recognized the alarm call before the mind, and while the latter sorted itself into wakefulness, instinct dictated that he move - quickly. Amadeus jerked for a second time in so many seconds, and as he did he felt something sting his ear. There was a poignant thud and a grunt. Amadeus raised his head to regard a stranger's shadow and the glint of a knife in his pillow, nestled where his head had slept only a moment ago. His heart froze in his chest, and his limbs followed, slipping into paralysis. Already, he was drenched with sweat. "Pax." He whispered. "Valerius..."
The knife pulled free as fire erupted from the direction of Finnian's perch. The intruder dodged, nearly unscathed but for the scent of burnt hair, as the bed's canopy caught flames. The heat devoured the sheer fabric in seconds. Amadeus inhaled a breath of smoke and came alive, scrambling, shrieking, falling over the opposite side of the bed as the flames rose from a crackle to a roar. "Pax! Valerius!" He screamed, choking - and realized belatedly that there was another stranger in the room fast approaching. "Mom!"
WC: 197
Because who wants to read more than that of this loser freaking out
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Post by annowre on Jul 18, 2017 21:54:16 GMT -6
Valerius | Chevalier
A usual night. An uneventful night. Nothing had seemed off or out of the ordinary. The day had been long, boring as usual. He had remained ever vigilant as ever. It was long past sunset now. The stallion had finished his round and laid his armor down next to his bed, upon which a white canine laid. "Coming to say good night with me?" he questioned her, but her only response was to growl and curl up tightly. Ever since Aralynne had been gifted her pygmy dragon, Astraea took every opportunity she could not to visit. The wolf did have a distaste for the reptiles the seemed to fill the palace.
Valerius only shrugged and grabbed his axe. After all, a good chevalier is never anywhere without his favorite weapon strapped to his side, and made his way downstairs. This was his usual nightly routine, nothing out of the ordinary. He would say goodnight to his beloved Aralynne, make a final sweep of the servants quarters, and go back to his room for a light sleep before his duties in the morning. But something felt off. It was far too quiet on this side of the palace. Shouldn't there be a guard stationed at that door? Something in the pit of the knight's stomach told him that this was wrong. Something was wrong.
The stallion hurried into the room that Aralynne and Frannie shared. As soon as he came through the door there was suddenly someone on top of him. Muscle memory for training sprang into action before his mind did, and he quickly jerked his head to the side. A sharp pain emanated from his shoulder and her roared, furious that this heathen had made it this far into the palace. His palace.
The grip of his battle axe glowed the soft blue of his teke as he used it's long haft to lever the assailant off of him. The stallion quickly positioned himself between the beds of the two servile slaves and the barbarian, quickly noticing a second shadowy form to join the first. "Stay down!" the chevalier barked back at the mares, quickly dislodging the knife from his shoulder and ignoring the blood as it slid down his leg. He should've known better. Always wear your armor. Always be prepared. Never get comfortable within a routine. How could he have forgotten his uncles most basic lesson?
Then he heard the screaming.
It was coming from upstairs.
Amadeus...
No. He was not going to let that happen. He had to protect Aralynne, and he needed to get through these assassins to get to Amadeus. To protect him as well. Teeth gritted and the stones beneath their hooves rumbled. These monsters would be the only ones dying here tonight.
Post 1 | 460 words
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Post by Deleted on Jul 18, 2017 22:09:44 GMT -6
pax
take my halo, yoke, and crown
Pax always slept lightly, if he slept at all. Night transformed the palace in a way the ex-fighter couldn't bear, and turned the vaulted ceilings, light as air, into infinite blackness. Too dark to move. Too quiet to sleep.
He held his breath in anxious silence for what seemed like hours every night, braced for unknown danger. He passed the time by watching the barely-visible rise and fall of his pygmy dragon's ribs as she slept. Somewhere over the horizon, dawn was incubating, and Pax waited. It was all he could do.
Rustling from the king's room wrinkled the silence. He clamped his lips shut, caught his breath in his ribs, and listened for Amadeus to sigh himself back to sleep. It wasn't unusual to hear the boy king stirring in the night anymore. He had a nation's worth of failure seeping into his dreams these days. In his more sentimental moments, Pax wondered how often they were both awake in the dark, a room apart, listening.
But Amadeus did not roll over to sleep. The sound of ripping fabric barely preceded a shrill scream, and Pax rolled onto his hooves with spring-loaded quickness. He broke into the room blindly, loudly, immediately, and with an abandon that would later surprise him. He'd talked often of hating this king before he'd befriended him; now he rushed to Amadeus's aid like his life depended on it.
He was silent as he slammed the heavy door open, blasting it wide with a bright-white Force Field before he passed through. Making his way toward a shadow he didn't recognize, Pax spread his wings to leap over the king, confronting the attacker with a blow from his gleaming shield.
He didn't see the second assassin at his back.
post 1 | 293 words |
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Post by FaunaFawn on Jul 19, 2017 11:36:14 GMT -6
 F R A N N I E
A soft sigh escaped her lips, as she moved about in her bed. At times she grew envious Pax and Valerius envious they got to remain so close, just right around the corner to the King; her best friend in all honesty. Though she had to remind herself, she was a slave as well, and her being in a room such as theres could be offensive. Still at times, she lingered for that closeness, something she always wish to achieve in some shape or form. It seemed to be a thought as of late, as she was blessed not to long ago, and even that was for her King. To assure herself and others, she would gladly protect the King, but still a slave was a slave, where they not? Frannie sighed as she let sleep find her, but it did not last for long.
There was a rustling, and she assumed it was Valerius, he at times would come and sneak a good night to Aralynne, the thought made her smile, but it too did not last long. There was a crash, and her stomach dropped as she looked up, Valerius was down, and she felt the need to scream, but no voice came from her mouth. Her body betraying her in rare seconds. She watched the scene unfold before. Valerius was able to reign himself and was standing, but soon she could smell blood, and her heart began to beat rapidly against her chest. She slipped out of her bed and onto the ground, fear rolling off of her. What was a slave to do? Then she heard it, the scream, a scream she prayed to gods she would never here. Amadeus.
Fear grasped her like a noose, threatening to choke her out, but in times of panic she remembered what Deidra had spoken to her, in panic focus on one thing, one things only. It was then Frannie closed her eyes and with a single click of her tongue and light pink force field and appeared and suddenly she was at Valerius back, defending him and Aralynne if she neared them. "I can help." was all she was able to speak out. Nothing less and nothing more that was needed. Clicking her tongue once more she created a second sheild and looked to Aralynne, she knew she should stay down, but she could atleast protect their backs, she could do something, anything to help assure they make it out alive and get to Ammy. Frannie's eyes lowered, but still there was fear, still her body shook and she worried, and she prayed. prayed that someone would help Ammy. The king, her best friend, her first friend.
Post 1
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Post by RusticForrest on Jul 19, 2017 17:14:14 GMT -6
Aralynne
[ Servile Slave | Aodh ]
The night had seemed like any other. Drapes billowed around open windows, soft, warm shadows slowly crept up the walls as night embraced the city of Valore. Peace settled the young mare's mind, and she felt content. Nearby, Frannie was already resting in her bed, and Aralynne allowed her gaze to pass over her, a slight smile lifting her lips. Soon enough, her knight would come to visit, as he always did around this time of night. Nervous excitement fluttered in the depths of her stomach, as it always did when she thought of him. With a sigh, she lay her head down, pale blue eyes tracing the lines of the door, eagerly watching for the sight of familiar broad shoulders. Beside her, Ivori, the adolescent pygmy dragon, yawned, her ruff of scales expanding, then falling with the movement of her jaws. Curled into a tight ball, the dragoness emitted a warm radiance, heating the blankets on which the mare was curled. If anything else, the dragon was certainly an effective space heater.
Movement at the door once again drew her attention, but the shape. . . it was- different? Moments later, Valerius moved through the door, and relieve rushed through her, calming a heart that was so keen on beating rapidly with panic. However, it was not to last. Two forms vaporized as if from shadow, and one stabbed her beloved with a dagger. Red blood ran in streams down his leg A shriek of horror rose from her maw, startling Ivori awake with a puff of smoke. Her eyes could not look away, even as Valerius called for them to stay down; stones beneath them began rattling and tumbling with the call.
Then came the scream, the awful, horrible scream. Amadeus! The empath felt the fear course through Frannie, the panic that seemed to almost overwhelm her- the panic that almost overwhelmed Aralynne as well. Frannie broke the ringing silence as she stood, forming a ring with Valerius, bravely facing the assassins, force-fields summoned, at the ready. Fear seemed to petrify Aralynne into place, but as the resolve of her two companions washed over her, she rose, and though tears threatened to spill from her eyes, she knew she had to do something. It was fight or die- and she had far too many hopes and dreams to just give up and lay down her (albeit meager) arms. Ivori was in flight, fire licking the tiny ivory fangs as she snarled at the ones who had woken her from her beauty sleep.
Aralynne had no defensive powers, so to speak, she only had the strength of her mind. Breathing, she opened herself to the cacophony of thoughts and emotions swirling around, and she heard the thoughts of Valerius, Frannie, the assassins, and, more distantly, Pax and Amadeus. Her consciousness brushed against theirs, and to her closest companions she said, Amadeus is not harmed; Pax is with him, but there are more of these beasts in his chambers. She ended her contact, and instead chose the mind of one of their assailants, the one who's dagger had pierced Valerius' hide, and with a scream of both terror and anger, she launched her consciousness at theirs, seeking to trap the monster within the confines of their own thoughts. Simultaneously, Ivori landed among her master's curly locks, colorless eyes fixing themselves upon their enemies, a surprisingly deep growl rumbling from within her tiny chest.
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WC: 570 |
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Post by SagaWolf on Jul 22, 2017 6:10:33 GMT -6
RosieCommoner, Healer
soft little aching heart
  
It had been a long day of studying, popping out of her room and library only a couple of times, and always dressed in her flowing garments, to conceal the now healed brand on her left shoulder. Once to stretch her legs and order tea from a servant, another time was to take a brisk walk around the gardens, and thirdly to order dinner delivered to her room as her studies were far too important to break away from. In reality, she had secluded herself after the traumatising attack and none had yet to address the issue with her. She appeared when needed, upheld her duties as Amadeus' doctor, and otherwise locked her self away with only her serpent, Chedva, for company.
A distant sound wormed through her dream and brought her out of deep sleep with a start, head whipping up from the open book upon which it had rested to gently, a small string of drool connecting to the pages for a second or two. In her sleep-drugged state, her brain still managed to identify the sound as a faded scream of terror, one that cut to her heart as she recognised a single word; 'mom'.
She was wide awake now, stumbling to her hooves (nearly stepping and falling over the draped fabric... has she fallen asleep mid sentence and fully dressed? ...yes) and clattering across the floor to fling open the doors. Chedva was on her back she realised when the serpent tightened her grip in alarm, slipping a coil of warm scales around Rosie's neck, to keep from falling off.
With the doors open, another shout got to Rosie, a gruff and loud 'Stay down!' from the servant's quarters her heart leapt into her throat. "Aralynne, Frannie... " she muttered, feeling her skin prickle with fear, though her brain caught up and recognised the shout as Valerius. Through the open door, she could just make out Frannie's spotted hide and Valerius' large form and... someone else... someone sinister.
Rosie couldn't tell what prompted her exactly, but before she could question her hooves she was turning to the room beside her own, throwing open the door and rushing inside where a distressed baby dragon, Aria now the size of a small horse, struggled against her collar and chain.
"A dragon will make them run, a dragon will make them run, " Rosie kept muttering in a whispered panic, over and over as she struggled with the collar, finally managing to get it off the beast. "Go, Aria, go! " Rosie shouted and stomped the floor as if Aria was an attack dog needing a good riling up before the kill. Was it the right thing to do? Heck if she knew! Panic was seeping into her every thought, and she could barely get her legs moving to follow the dragon out of the room.
Word count: 474 | Post: #1
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Post by Queerly on Jul 31, 2017 11:14:12 GMT -6
Aralynne's scream was an alarm bell that roused Aria from sleep. Being a cub, the dragon understood little beyond the implication of her mother's distress - and that, that was enough. Within an instant the ancient enigma became a scuffling mess of shrieks and hisses, claws gauging the the room's marble floor as the collar pulled taut. The door flew open, and Aria recognized Rosie's scent. The medic's arrival calmed her by a fragile measure. Struggles dying to a constrained quiver, she waited, impatient and chattering, as Rosie fumbled with her collar. She heard the click, and bolted in the same moment the metal fell from her throat, checking the doorway with her massive shoulder. Frannie and Aralynne's room wasn't fair - especially now, with her size matching that of the average horse. Aria erupted into the bedroom like a foal's bad dream, sounding off a scream as she sank her teeth into the nearest warm body that failed to smell familiar. Bone crunched beneath her jaw and flesh split under her talons; in seconds, the ill-fated stranger was on the floor, a powerful kick of the dragon's hind legs rendering them disemboweled.
A floor above, Amadeus was screaming too. His shrieking was just another drop in the bucket, for it seemed the entire room had become a sympathy of discordant sounds, the fire popping and here and there exploding in a shower of sparks as Finnian squalled and metal reverberated off Pax's shield. Amadeus couldn't process the scene, not a single part of it. He felt himself slip into a familiar dissociation, the same terrorized float that had lifted him above the ballroom on the night of the coup. The room had undulated as his mother ripped holes in reality. The room was spinning now, too, but it wasn't the same - his mother wasn't here. Solaris wasn't here, but Pax was.
Amadeus took a step backwards, and did not see the shadow swiftly approaching from behind, nor did he hear the whisper of a blade's unsheathing.
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Post by Deleted on Jul 31, 2017 16:01:01 GMT -6
pax
take my halo, yoke, and crown
The dagger bounced off of the short-lived force-field, white light splintering at the touch of the blade. Two more swipes were deflected with well-timed Force Fields, and Pax pushed with the last one, knocking his attacker off-balance. While Amadeus shrieked, Pax grabbed a heavy candelabra from beside the burning bed, amber teke raising it high overhead.
He brought it down on his attacker's poll with a dull thud, and the stranger collapsed silently. Stunned, Pax thought, remembering similar blows in the pits, and probably seeing stars, but not down for the count. He stepped on the assassin's dagger, dropped at the moment of impact, and slid it backwards with a hoof, underneath the bed.
Tulip entered the room belatedly, shrill and squalling, sparks popping in her throat. The little pygmy dragon flew straight through the halo of fire collapsing on the king's mattress, flapping madly over Pax's head as the chevalier looked back to Amadeus. By the light of the flames, he saw another face in the darkness, behind the king. Panic shot through him.
"Down!" he ordered, flinging his wings wide again. He had first learned to fly in the tight spaces and low ceilings of the pits; indoor maneuvers were comfortable, familiar. As he charged through the room again, a panicked Tulip in screaming pursuit, the small pegasus grabbed a post of the bed with his teke and dragged it slowly with him. The bed was huge, turning with a groan across the marble floor until the post finally broke free, trailing a flag of fiery silk.
As the first assassin got back on their feet, Pax swung at the second with the makeshift torch. Tulip spouted ineffective but startling plumes of flame in the attacker's direction.
"What are you doing?!" Pax screamed at the petrified Amadeus. "Run!" post 2 | 300 words pax, currently: SCREAMING BOTH INTERNALLY AND EXTERNALLY |
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Post by annowre on Jul 31, 2017 16:33:46 GMT -6
Valerius | Chevalier
Of course her damned partner had left the doors closed. But she finally managed it. Who knew telekineses was so handy? But her teeth had done the job and the wolf burst into the kings chamber. The white demon leapt forth from the side room, launching over the bed, framed by the flames, and onto the assassin who was staggering back to his face. Vicious snarls and a flash of gleaming fangs accompanied her as she brought the horse to the ground. The assassin grunted with surprise and sprawled out on the ground. Astraea rolled off and readied herself to leap at him again, growling deep in her chest. The sweet taste of fresh blood running down her chin. Hellfire eyes darted around the room, trying to take in the situation quickly. Where was that damned horse of hers. He was going to owe her big for this mess he left her with.
Valerius, of course, was downstairs. Frannie took to his side, protecting him with her gift, but he could hear the fear within her voice. The stallion nodded in response, keeping his eyes on his adversaries. "Protect yourself and Aralynne, then me," he said. He heard Aralynne within his mind. They were up there. He knew they were up there. Ignacio let Pax hold them off long enough for him to get there. The assassins had taken a beat, preparing to attack the chevalier. Valerius waited. The only way he was going to defeat two trained killers like himself was to keep the battle on his terms. But after a moment of stillness, chaos returned.
A snarling beast leapt through the doorway, tackling one of their attackers. Aria was more useful that Valerius had hoped. He turned to the other assailant, the one who had thrust a dagger into his shoulder, noticing his face twist in pain. Well the chevalier wasn't about to let this opportunity pass. Blue eyes darkened as the stallion stepped forward, swinging his large axe with calculated precision. He didn't even wait the loose head hit the floor before charging for the door.
"Stay here!" he roared to the mares, hoping they would listen. Heavy hoofbeats reverberated through the halls as Valerius stampeded towards the stairs. Just another moment. I'll be there soon. Just hold on for one more moment.
Post 2 | 386 words
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Post by RusticForrest on Aug 1, 2017 20:16:17 GMT -6
A R A L Y N N E
the opposite of anger is not calmness, it is empathy
... ...
The next few second passed as minutes within the confines of Aralynne's mental battle with the assassin, her face holding a pained grimace. The gift was still new to her, though her advancement with it had been rapid; but, there were times when her abilities reached beyond her comprehension. Her contact with the mind of the assassin did not waiver, even as Aria, shrieking shrilly, entered the room, and pounced upon one of the armed horses. Relief had rushed through her at the sight of the small dragon, with whom she had always felt close, as if a mother, and Ivori again took flight, white flames licking her lips as she prepared to aid her ancient counterpart.
Relief and a flicker of pride rapidly turned to horror as Aria's claws rent great gashes through the flesh of the other horse, as easily as if it was but a softened slab of butter. From the wounds flowed hot, red liquid, and nausea threatened to overwhelm her. Aralynne was forced to avert her eyes, unable to watch the dragon's voracious attack any longer. Distracted, her contact with the mind of the one who had stabbed her beloved ebbed, and through it she could sense as he built himself up to attack once more. Gritting her teeth, Aralynne tried once more to contain him with the force of her mind, but as the stench of iron filled the air, her focus faltered evermore; somehow, she managed to hold them.
It was then that she felt the axe cleave flesh and bone. She felt it as if it was her own body. Their pain was her pain. A cry loosed itself from her throat, and tears fell unbidden, dripping from ice-blue eyes, tracing convoluted paths down the soft lines of her cheeks. As the head plummeted towards the floor, she felt the mind wink from existence, as obsolete and wraith-like as a midsummer's fog. Her gaze was fixed then, upon the pooling blood, and her stomach twisted in great heaves. She barely heard Valerius' speech, barely maintained contact with the world around her. A series of confusing emotion overwhelmed her, disbelief at Valerius' actions, horror to see Aria's ferocity, fear for Amadeus, Pax, Frannie. . . the burden of feeling the passing of a life. Sobs broke through her throat, and she desperately tried to control herself. This was no time to weep, but her body rebelled. Swaying, she tried to turn, to face Frannie, grasping for anything to clear her mind of the images it so desperately clung to.
... ... Word Count: 446 Post #: 2 |
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Post by FaunaFawn on Aug 1, 2017 22:55:00 GMT -6
Frannie
The scene unfolded before like a puzzle shattered on the ground, It came in bits and pieces and her brain so fragile tried to grasp at what was happening in the mere seconds of the attack. All she could process was the words of Deidra how the pits were messy to look at, but everyone around them would scream for blood. Now it was all she could see as a dragon erupted into the room, attacking the first assassin, who never stood a chance. She could her the slush of organs as they dropped, could smell the room so heavy with blood. But still the onslaught continued. Val was quick and move, a single slice and that was that. Val spoke words, but her brain couldn't process it no, not now. It was to much everything, the pits never prepared her for this. Truly nothing had.
The second the sob ripped from the mouth of her friend, Frannie was back. Head whipped to the side seeing Aralynne she quickly moved herself towards her. Nuzzling deeply into the mares, as she whispered so gently to her. "Its okay, we are alive, its okay truly." she remarked trying her best to care for her friend. Who clearly was suffering, and for a moment Frannie was able to push her own feelings away and was able to focus steadily on Aralynne. Frannie's sheilds blinked out and soon the pair was there and Frannie offered a light kiss on the forehead to Aralynne. They had to get out of this room, they would go mad in here.
"Come on lets get out of here." she remarked gently, as she urged Aralynne forward and out of the room. Frannie only hoped the dragon would follow after, Frannie was really unsure of what to do there, this dragon was large, and was not like the dragons of Pax and Ammy. Still she looked tot he dragon and offered a soft smile, before helping Aralynne out of the room. They had to get out of there, the blood the bodies... It would not do any of them any good to linger any longer in that room. As to where they needed to go? Well there was only place she felt she needed to go. It was to Ammy and Pax, the ones she spent much time with, and Ammy her King, her best friend. She heard his cry, and it shattered her heart, they had to go and follow in the trail of Val. Depsite the fact the words of his was lost to them. Frannie urged Aralynne to follow. still whispering to her ever so gently, that it was okay, in hopes to bring her back.
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Post by SagaWolf on Aug 5, 2017 6:30:17 GMT -6
RosieCommoner, Healer
soft little aching heart
'Perhaps it is a nightmare, ' Rosie thought to herself as she watched Aria slam into the unknown attacker. Rosie felt disconnected to the moment, to her body, felt like she was watching the gory scene through someone else's eyes. She felt neither disgust nor terror as the baby dragon disemboweled the assassin, or as Valerius cleaved the head from the second figure. Instead she marveled at the efficiency and felt excitement crawling along her spine, until Valerius ordered the mares to stay put.
Rosie blinked rapidly, surfacing from the shock her mind had locked her in. The Chevalier raced up the stairs to meet the cacophonous sound and the scent of... smoke? It was faint still but most definitely in the air!
Finally Rosie was moving, sprinting from the nursery to Aralynne and Frannie, with Chedva tightening her grip so she wouldn't fall off the pale unicorn.
"Oh, oh my dear sweet gods, please be safe, " she muttered rapidly, eyes wide with concern. "Frannie, Aralynne! Are you hurt?! " she asked, her tone urgent yet firm. Rosie had witnessed a couple of medical emergencies in her life, and frequent visits to the Crucible had likely helped to harden her some. Still there were claws of fear in her gut, because it was entirely likely that one or both of the mares had been injured. And with the noise from upstairs, Rosie feared that there would be little time to treat any wounds.
Word count: 241 | Post: #2
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Post by Queerly on Aug 29, 2017 9:07:36 GMT -6
Run.Amadeus felt his mind snap back into place from wherever it had gone, focusing on the simplicity of that single, obvious word. The fire, the shield, the glint of steel and the flash of the wolf's fangs - all of it had been too much to process. Too much. Too much. He was not his mother, who flew into action and stayed two steps ahead. In the face of terror, Amadeus merely froze, contributing mewling yelps and frightened bleats.
But the instruction. Run. Commanding rather than suggesting, leaving no room for argument. It pulled the boy to his hooves, picked them up, pushed him forward. As Finnian glided through the flames to find purchase on his back, Amadeus skirted around the wolf's kill and darted for the door.
Forgetting that he possessed the gift of telekinesis, Amadeus threw the door open with his teeth, and slammed abrupt into Valerius' chest. Startled, the boy squalled as though a sword already slipped between his ribs.
"Valerius!" He gasped. His relief was psychical: he nearly collapsed. "Valerius, help, please help Pax-"
The words became little more than tear-choked babble. As he moved aside to allow the Chevalier access to the smoking, brutalized room, Aria came stumbling into the corridor, her maw bloody, her head cocked. The mares were behind her, their ascent up the staircase slow - Aralynne was little more than traumatized deadweight, after all. Aria squawked a note of encouragement, and then began to growl, the sent of strangers curling her lip. She followed it, chasing the smell of blood and smoke, nearly knocking Amadeus off his feet as she too slipped into the king's burning room.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 29, 2017 9:52:03 GMT -6
pax
take my halo, yoke, and crown
Reinforcements came not a second too early. Pax couldn't watch Amadeus bolt for the door, as the assassin before him grabbed the makeshift torch from Pax's flailing grasp. They wrenched the burning bedpost from Pax's golden teke without a struggle. Tulip shrieked, divebombing to grab the flame before it could be swung back at the small pegasus, and t burning wood was forcefully discarded by the anonymous attacker, sending dragon and bedpost both tumbling across the floor. They rolled separately to the near wall, resting on the floor-length curtains covering the window there. Tulip remained motionless as the silk drapes began to light.
Pax shouted wordlessly as Tulip was thrown, and panicked about which way to run. Tulip was nearly invisible, her small body already engulfed in the orange glow of burning silk. The assassin was retreating, moving to follow the king and drawing a crooked blade. Gritting his jaw, his eyes stinging from smoke and helpless rage, Pax threw himself after the assassin.
But he'd forgotten the other one. The first attacker, head bloodied from Pax's strike with the candlestick, intercepted the small Pegasus. While Amadeus sobbed beyond the doorway, Pax gasped sharply.
Pax fell to his knees toward the door, visible beneath the smoke, a dagger buried to the hilt at the base of his neck. 215 words. |
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Post by annowre on Aug 29, 2017 10:49:39 GMT -6
Valerius | Chevalier
When Astraea leapt at the assailant a second time, aiming for his throat. But this time he was prepared. The anonymous assassin swiped at her with his blade, the dagger slicing through her shoulder. Her yelp of pain and shock quickly turned into a growl of rage. Her vision narrowed in on the horse who had dared cut her. She didn't care about the curtains catching on fire, or the assassin about to escape the room. Bright golden eyes focused in on the attacker as he buried the dagger already slick with her blood deep into the back of Pax's neck. She charged forward, snarling and leaping onto the assassin, gleaming white fangs latching onto his face, one of her canines sinking into his eye socket. He screamed, rearing up and swatting at her, trying to get her to release him.
Valerius charged up the staircase, just as he was about to enter the kings bed chamber, a blue of white slammed into his chest. "Amadeus!" the stallion exclaimed, the first time he had ever addressed the king so informally. He reached out with his leg to catch the young stallion as he dropped to the stone floor. A quick once over of the puddle of a horse in front of him let Valerius know he wasn't injured. It would be rather easy to see blood on his pale coat. Amadeus muttered between sobs about Pax and the chevalier only nodded, leaping into the room.
A rather surprised assassin nearly slammed into the stallions chest. The horse swung with his blade, but Valerius was quick to parry, but pale eyes caught what was happening deeper in the room. The entire chamber was alight with flames, and a dark figure stood over Pax, rearing up with an all too familiar white form hanging from it's face. "Pax!!" the stallion roared, as the younger horse was obviously injured. Before he could dispatch the assassin he was dealing with and enter, Aria leapt over the top of him, tackling him to the ground and ripping out his throat before he even had a chance to scream.
There wasn't time to get across the room. The final assailant was tugging at the dagger hilt deep within Pax's neck, ready to shake Astraea off and possibly cause his injured comrade to bleed out. He had to act fast. Valerius readied himself and launched his axe, his trusty Elysia forward, aiming for the exposed assassins chest. The force of the blow sent the assassin stumbling backward, the haft vibrating from the sudden stop. Astraea was shaken off and her blood thirst cleared. She quickly darted over to the curtains, gently picking up a limp form in her blood soaked jaws and bringing Tulip back to Pax's side. Valerius was there, knelt by the pale stallion.
After all that talk, all that pomp and circumstance, all those hours trying to avoid training, he had sacrificed himself to save Amadeus. Valerius had judged him wrong. "Can you stand?" he asked, gently wrapping around him in the warm blue glow his telekinesis, ready to help the pegasus to his feet.
Post 3 | 521 words
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Post by Deleted on Aug 29, 2017 12:33:01 GMT -6
aginor
& pax and tulip
"I'm sorry to call you at this time of night." Aginor did not offer Ambassador Balthamel anything to drink. In Breimian fashion, his quarters in the palace were scarcely furnished; the only refreshment visible was a small teapot that sat dry and cold across the room. This was not a social meeting.
"I've noticed something happening here." His voice was quiet, no more urgent than ever, but his stare darted up and down the hall through the crack in the door as he softly closed it. He fixed his Aodhian counterpart in the unblinking attention of many eyes, and ushered Balthamel to his desk.
"Unscheduled closed meetings, missed patrols. Chevaliers I don't recognize." Aginor had a talent for remembering everyone he saw. Faces and patterns were his first language; he knew the clockwork of the palace like his own heartbeat by now, but there was a break in the rhythm. It used to be something he could try to ignore, but... "I haven't seen a guard all night."
"I wasn't sure who else to call." He'd almost summoned Cyndane, but talked himself out of it. He couldn't drag her into this. Worse yet, he wasn't sure what he'd do if she was already in it. Cyndane's son, his diplomatic equivalent, would have to do.
"I think the king is in danger."
But Aginor, as always, had a plan.
----
He was calm as he made his way up the unguarded corridor. The castle felt abandoned. There hadn't even been a servant outside to question him when he'd packed the wagon for his imminent departure.
Aginor saw Amadeus collapse in the hall, saw the chevalier run into a smoky room. The king was blood-flecked but unharmed. "Your Majesty?" his voice was always steady. He took a knee beside the boy king. They had spoken only sparely before, but Aginor had observed Amadeus enough to be convinced of his softness. Valore would not rest in its hunt for him if he survived tonight.
"Your Majesty, if I may, you are not safe here." He rose, using a leg to help the boy. Seeing Amadeus shake, Aginor frowned, and with his violet teke freed the clasp of his cloak. Holding it up in offering, he awaited permission before draping it over Amadeus's tiny wing shoulders. In the same motion, he ushered Amadeus out of the doorway, out of the line of sight of carnage inside.
Aginor observed the violence unfold in the king's bedchamber with no upset visible on his face. He watched the dragon cautiously, and did not enter the room.
Pax wheezed on the floor, eyes wide in shock as Aria ripped an unimaginable wound into a horse, and Valerius ended the other assassin with automatic savagery. The destroyed corpses were close enough to Pax to splatter on the ground where he lay. His stare was far away as he watched the bloody Chevalier approach him, and his ribs heaved in terrified gulps when Valerius got close. Aginor watched Pax's small legs scramble on the wet marble, watched blood bubble in his teeth as he shouted: "Get away!" Pax's voice cracked, panicky, and he smeared his flank across the wet floor in his effort to stand. When a limp Tulip was delivered by Astraea, Pax stopped his struggling and collapsed instead by her side, a stained wing held up to shelter her as he looked her over.
"Captain." Aginor said to Valerius from the doorway. It drew the attention of everyone in the room, including the dragon's filmy blind stare and Pax's feral grimace. "There isn't a soul left in this building. Valore is not here for you."
Pax growled lowly as Aginor continued. "Balthamel and I can offer passage to Nariah, and asylum for the king." Aginor watched the king's body double rise finally, his drowsy dragon draped over his back, his coat colored pinto from the pool of assassin's blood he'd been lying in.
"Amadeus, get away from him," Pax wheezed, limping heavily on the shoulder that was still holding a full blade. "We don't know him."
Aginor ignored him. "Your presence would be appreciated," the consul continued to the chevalier. "I don't imagine the road out of the palace will be easy."
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Post by FaunaFawn on Sept 4, 2017 16:10:20 GMT -6
Frannie
All her mind could recall at this moment was to care for Aralynne. She needed help and Frannie planned to do that for her. Helping her onward Frannie almost didnt notice another figure, but the second a hoof step was heard, Frannie clicked her tongue and a force field was up and her brows furrowed as a dark look hung in her eyes. Like a caged animal being tormented for too long. But soon saw it was Rosie and the force field vanished. "R-rosie" she stammered for the name. She wanted to sob and cling to her, but her training. Gods the training did not allow her body to compel with her wishes.
"Im okay but..." she paused and looked at Aralynne.
"We have to go, to him. to the others. We have too." she urged them before moving them upwards, not minding in taking the lead or going against some better judgement. Frannie had one goal in mind and it was to get to him, her soulfriend, the one that made days better. He gave her the world and asked for nothing in return. But Frannie, gods be damned would lay down her life for him if to just allow him to make it out of this alive. Dont be too late, she thought to herself. For once, do this right.
There at the top of the staircase, in the scene of the horror she spotted him with Val. "Amadeus." she called out so softly, her voice shaking as if saying his name would shatter the world around her. Was he okay? Was Pax? Heart raced forwards, pounding against her chest like fighters in the pit; brutally and painful. "Ammy!" she called out louder, before moving forwards, but everything was happening to quickly. Soon a stranger approached them, Pax was wounded and it made her want to guard him faithfully force fields in tact. In a matter of seconds things kept moving and perhaps it was an awakening to see how little a life matter in the sight of everything. How the world kept turning even in matter like this. It was clear to see when Aginor approached them all. He spoke so calmly so smoothly, it made her blink in return to try and steady things.
But she moved quickly to Ammy side, keeping close to Pax. Brows furrowed as Pax shouted to keep away from him. The Stranger. The stranger may have a name, but a name can deceive as looks can. Frannie snorted a bit as watched them all her tongue ridding on the roof of her mouth, ready to let out a click to cover them in a force field. Frannie would follow Ammy, if he choose to follow Aginor, who somehow knew a plan of all of this, she would come along only to assure Ammy would continue drawing breath. Frannie looked to Pax though her heart breaking at the scene."Pax.." she whispered out softly to him, hoping her could feel the warmth and compassion she wanted to give to him as she remained near Ammy. She wanted to go towards him try and take care, but just like Pax their duty was the same. Protect Ammy.
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Post by brandvandet on Sept 6, 2017 21:02:41 GMT -6
balthamel
silvertongue told me to
“I need a drink,” he muttered softly, still by the archway. The tableau was spread before him and for a moment, he thought about just walking away. Balthamel wasn't stupid—in a second he'd assessed the situation and had realized the inherent implications. It's not as if Amadeus were in the habit of staging assassination drills—he doubted the boy truly realized the reason that slave Frannie was around in any concrete way. In general, he didn't have the best opinion of Amadeus's reasoning skills. Well, he had little enough reason to.
The corner of the archway bit into his shoulder as he leaned his weight into it. Currently, his legs seemed like fantastically unreliable methods of being held up without some port or brandy fortifying them. Aginor's flat pronouncement just seconds ago had not been anywhere near sufficient warning for this. His thoughts cycled back to a glass as he stood, unmoving, as if entering the scene would make him a part of it.
The part of his mind that wanted to leave was weighing consequences. This hit was obviously organized to have made it this far, a fact the dark consul seemed to agree with. Someone powerful was playing their piece. He knew the machinations hadn't started from his own House. Apart from maternal loyalty, he knew his mother's tortured sense of morality would never have let her move against a son of Solaris. The other advisers could all have commanded it—and he hardly could have blamed them. Even with his relatively intimate knowledge of Isador, he wouldn't rule the stallion out.
It would have been simpler to walk in on a dead king.
He met Aginor's gold eyes as he hesitated still and saw something there that made him step forward. There had been judgment in that glance and knowledge. The suspicion was confirmed as soon as the Breimian whispered a word that would be meaningless to most in the room. “Pascal.” The gold eyes seemed to find him wanting as they assessed his reaction. The word was not a command but a simple threat.
Balthamel's decision was made for him. Looking around the room, he tried to collate the information presented and find problems in the proposed plans. His gaze rested on Pax, as much for the little slave-turned-chevalier's frantic warnings as for the wrinkle he was presenting. He couldn't figure out why he was tripping alarm bells until he turned back to the confused king.
“We need a body,” he said, to Aginor as much as to anyone. “They need to think he's dead or we'll never get out of Eithne.” 436 words. first post. |
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Post by SagaWolf on Sept 7, 2017 5:03:04 GMT -6
RosieCommoner, Healer
soft little aching heart
Frannie's words brought a sigh of relief to Rosie's lips, prematurely though, as she took in the shocked Aralynne. She wanted nothing more than to hug the two tightly and tell them all would be fine, but there was no time for lies. The stench of smoke was only intensifying, and the boys were caught in it upstairs. So Rosie's head bobbed along with Frannie's concerned words, and she was right on the spotted mare's heels up the stairs. By the time they reached the top of it she had managed to steel herself, pushing the shock deep down to allow her medical experience to rise. This wasn't the time to whimper and cry and beg for miracles. She could do all of that later when they were truly safe.
Once or twice Rosie had stood by her father's side in his small clinic when an emergency came through the doors. She remembered the flash of shock and fear on his face, replaced with steely determination. The injuries were stabilized and the wounded send off to receive better care than he could provide. With the sight that unfolded before her, Rosie was glad for her training.
Amadeus didn't appear to bleed, Valerius had a non-threatening gash from what she could determine at a distance. As long as the blood wasn't pulsing he should be fine, and the same went for Astraea. But Pax... oh dear stars, Pax!
Fear rose in her chest, and she struggled to keep it from reaching her mind, as she moved towards the body-double, giving little attention to the newcomers Aginor and Balthamel. If they were trouble, Valerious would take care of them and she was sure Aria would be only seconds behind.
"Pax, please, don't move, you're making it worse, " she said, trying to keep her voice from shaking and the sobs at bay. Blood was... everywhere. Spilling from the blade buried in his neck, dripping from his mouth and splattered across him in ugly, fascinating patterns. "We have to stop the bleeding! " she snapped back at the others, deaf to the conversation, and as she spoke she tore the delicate soft silk from her side, bundled it with her powder-pink teke, and pressed it to Pax's wound, mindful of the blade.
But could she really stop it? She had no idea how long the blade was or what it had cut, though the bleeding suggested horrible damage. Pax needed surgery or even better, someone more in tune with their healing blessing than she was. Rosie could do nothing but try and stop the bleeding with pressure, and desperation laced her pleading words as she turned her head to the crowd.
"Red hot metal, anything to stop this bleeding! "
Word count: 451 | Post: #3
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Post by Queerly on Sept 19, 2017 11:09:32 GMT -6
Amadeus struggled to comprehend the red smear that time had become, perceiving the world in snapshots that bled black in-between. He watched Pax fall to a blade and thought perhaps that he had made a sound, had yelped or shrieked or cried for help. He'd tried to stand. Abruptly he was aware of Valerius howling his fury, and the flash of Aria's teeth. The scream - he had been screaming this whole time, hadn't he? - died to a shrill keen that hissed between his teeth. He couldn't find his feet.
Aginor's level voice captured him like cannon fire, so wildly out of place among the roar of fire and the harsh, clipped shouts that even in its softness he demanded attention. “Ambassador.” He squeaked. He did not remember the man’s name, and truthfully had never cared to. It hadn’t seemed pertinent, not when his Advisers were the ones primarily associating with foreign dignitaries, and Aginor had been a little frightening to Amadeus’ sensibilities. In the presence of an assassin’s blade, Aginor was significantly less intimidating.
He allowed himself to be helped to his hooves and ushered. He felt better for the cloak on his back, and better yet when Frannie came to him. He buried his face against the stretch of her throat, but he couldn’t focus, couldn’t see anything but the knife wedged into Pax’s throat every time he closed his eyes. He felt as helpless as he had when the Crucible came down on their heads, and the dragons took flight in Nariah.
The Ambassador was speaking to someone, perhaps Valerius, but he did not raise his head to listen. He didn’t budge, not until Pax shouted with blood cloying his throat. Instantly he was upright, half-turned to the door as the truth of the statement sunk deep into his skin. He didn’t know the Breimen. He couldn’t even recall his name.
Heart constricting, he scraped his eyes to the Ambassador, regarding the man with newly incurred suspicion. He startled as he noticed Balthamel for the first time, but did not have the time or cleverness to wonder at his presence. “Why would you help me?” He asked. Pax had a point. Aginor had yet to slip a blade between his ribs, but that didn’t mean the ambassador was not simply biding his time for a better opportunity. One with less swords at Amadeus’ disposal, perhaps.
His fear was ebbing, but it did not give way to calm. In the absence of shock and an immediate threat to his life, the young king was transitioning to another emotion entirely. The destruction of his room paled in comparison to the injury his friends suffered, had suffered for him against usurpers who would attack him in his sleep. As he stood there, shaking, the injustice of all that had happened settling squarely on his withers, Amadeus grew angry.
Wild eyes found Balthamel when he spoke, lips curling over teeth. For the first time in a while, perhaps even the first of his short, spoiled existence, Amadeus was angry. Neither the self-righteous fury of a petulant child or the surliness of puberty were foreign to him; he had played those roles countless times and never felt sorry for it. But this anger - this raw, boiling rage - rose up from his chest like bile and cloyed in his throat, and he sputtered incoherently for a moment, struggling to swallow his first taste of unfairness. It was bitter, and it had found an outlet through assumption. "Not his!" He snarled, as though he still held authority. Hot tears pricked his eyes and slipped down his cheeks, face contorted in fury. The maturity of his indignation did not match the insolence of his age as he continued, shouting, "You won't touch him, you won't, I'd kill you first."
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Post by brandvandet on Sept 22, 2017 10:47:17 GMT -6
balthamel
silvertongue told me to
believe in the truth
With the bloody backdrop of the room, Balthamel found the sudden tantrum absurd. The King had fluffed up like an affronted dove and was berating him for something he hadn't even suggested. The dark suited envoy stared flatly at the king and then at his body double, considering. Acid boiled up the back of his throat as he saw Pax's blood spread over the floor and the young doctor try to work on it. Admittedly, Balthamel was no medical expert but the wound didn't look fatal, at least not immediately. While it would certainly have been convenient to have an already similar body at hand he didn't have the stomach for slaughter.
“I'm not intending on killing your bodyguard, Ammy,” he said, turning his skills to where they might do the most good. He'd grown up with this child trailing after the bright rising suns of the teenage heirs. While Amadeus was a pale, laughable imitation of his mother and his brother and even his sharp tongued sister, Balthamel still remembered when he was barely a puff of down atop a gangly, leggy body. In the years past, it seemed only the feathers had grown up.
“This is Aginor and he's a friend of my mother, Cyndane,” he said, keeping his voice low and calm and lowering his head to Amadeus's eye level. “You may not know him but you know me and I trust him. We have to get you out of here.” The hippocampus surveyed the room once more. Everyone else seemed frantic and he wasn't sure of particular persons' reasoning skills except one.
“I'm assuming there are bodies as we aren't being interrupted,” he mused. “I...I have illusions but it won't keep long enough for what we need...although.” He hesistated before grimacing and using his pale teal teke to untie a chain from underneath his hair. He bounced the locket twice before apparently deciding. “I bought an imbuement for this with my Blessing so it's stronger but I'm sure they'll see it on the body.” An afterthought of a smile flickered as he fidgeted the locket open and closed. [/b] 355 words. second post.[/div] |
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