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Post by Queerly on Jan 16, 2016 21:06:57 GMT -6
For better or worse, your chances of surviving the night are drastically higher in a group. You can support one another, and if the Cultists make an appearance, you can perhaps hope to outrun your comrades…
Event Journal// Located Here
Premise Journal// Located Here
Hello Starborn, and welcome to Plot 001: Wandering Stars! We have so much planned for your little wanderers, and we hope you enjoy the Chapter as much as we enjoyed making it for you! Please keep the following in mind!
- Posts must be a minimum of 175 words. There is no maximum!
- No strict order is enforced, but there must be at least two posts between your own character's posts.
- Five posts is the minimum to earn the event AP/CS/FVR rewards. After you've posted five times, you receive 1 AP for every post after!
- Your team is precious. Don't let anyone feel left behind! Try to interact with everyone. <3
- Have fun! Even if your pony isn't. 8'D
Once the team leader has posted, you may begin posting as well!
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Post by posy-punch on Jan 17, 2016 12:17:02 GMT -6
Rynn | Bard This was the one night were Rynn's fantasies did not plague her. This was the one night where she couldn't fall to her knees for one of the winged children. This was one night that all she depended on was her goddess in the sky and her wits. Alya would have to guide her along to safety through the night in these snowy trees. She swung her head around and saw the others in her midst. A pretty grey mare, a palomino with a flower in her mane, a dappled grey mare, and a appaloosa with a braid. Rynn calculated all of their chances, to run, to hide if things got bad. No, running was always better. They couldn't possibly have something that would be so fast to catch them when they'd likely already spotted said horses? Right? Rynn shook her neck, and snow that had already begun to put a thin blanket on it flurried off of her. She spoke quietly, "I don't want much talking from anyone, we're a fairly large group, but we could still get run down or overpowered..." Her voice dropped. "However, do not make friends if you can help it, my darlings, for when it comes time to run or fight... they will not give up chase or fight without one to give them their blood. So as you all know, as we've not reached our destination, the slowest or the weakest is likely to suffer." She hung her head, muzzle scraping the snow. Then brought it back up to stare all around her. She moved briskly, but her head moved slow as it scanned the area. She began to let snow pile along her back if it gave them less of a chance to see her pale and dark coat. She quickly began weaving the stories. Here she was on a cold winter's night. The New Year was there and the snow was a whirlwind around them all. The five horses trudged their way through the snow, speaking amongst themselves quietly. Not letting their voice drift in the empty forest. They were miles off of Skeldr Town and the only chance they had for all of them to survive, was to not be spotted at all..."One of you in the back, get a piece of pine or fir and brush out our tracks. Now everyone make a choice. Follow the well used and easy to run on path, or go off roading and try to miss the Bloodletter's completely?" She dare not even say their name aloud. [427 Words] |
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Post by Queerly on Jan 17, 2016 13:18:07 GMT -6
 For better or worse, your chances of surviving the night are drastically higher in a group. You can support one another, and if the Cultists make an appearance, well... perhaps you won't be the slowest mare in your group.
Objective: Head for Skeldr town despite the heavy snowfall. It is your only salvation, the one place that the Cultists dare not go.
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Post by Flarism on Jan 17, 2016 15:38:46 GMT -6
Cassidy could not help but curse her ill fortune. Her husband, her mate, the stallion whose child now grew inside her, captured so recently by slavers. Were he still there, her fear would not be so great. He could have protected her. But alas, he was gone, and the foal borne of his love put her now at greater risk. Her only spot of luck on this dark night was finding this group. A chance encounter, perhaps a blessing from the gods. She didn't know the reason, she was simply thankful. She was a pretty thing. Her fur the warm gold of a morning sun, her mane only shades off from the snow at her hooves. And in her hair, a pink lily given during her husband's courting. Her only possession as a wanderer. She had needed nothing else. Possessions only slowed the pace of the constantly moving. She scooped up a fallen branch (with a bit of a grunt, for she was heavily pregnant), and turned her green eyes to the rest of their ragtag group. She would leave the decisions to them. Such was her way- far more a follower than a leader.
[195 words - Post 1]
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Post by sansatine on Jan 17, 2016 15:39:43 GMT -6
Alois Vaga | Bard
Alois nearly always made sure to leave Onea before the sky thought about dropping snow, but this year didn't quite go her way. Never mind why, the past was the past and a new year was present. Whether that was fortunate or unfortunate, Alois didn't dwell on it. She was here now with these mares fleeing for their lives out of fear of the cultists. They were a nasty bunch, but nevertheless driven by what they thought to be true, and for someone who tells stories for a living, that seemed trivial.
The greyish mare shook herself from her thoughts and fell into the real world. The company of a mare on any other would be comforting and fun, but these mares were too tense for her liking. Surely they'd lighten up once they get into Skeldr town. The mare leading them suggested someone cover their tracks. Alois turned back in suggestion that one of them start doing so, quickening her pace and turning forward to be at the flank of the lead. The palomino mare with the flower picked up a branch and did as the leader said. She was rounder than most wanderers Alois had seen, and that made her uneasy- though the others seemed not to care much for it. Alois didn't care to learn their names, they'd only be together tonight and she didn't want one of them to scream her name in a time of trouble, but she wouldn't leave them null of her skills, and certainly wouldn't leave anyone out from her protection.
Alois turned away from the Flowered mare and studied the mare before her. She was scar-ridden and aging but not old. She knew what she was doing, which was nice, but trying to control a group of horses who specifically abandoned herd tenancies would be. . . strange. Alois shook her self from her mind again, and the snow off her back. I need to focus, Alois told herself, keep my senses keen so these mares are not lead to scream and terror.
Let's get through the night.
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Post by Chipo-H0P3 on Jan 17, 2016 20:30:55 GMT -6
Shiann | Wanderer
After her accident in the mountains, Shiann abandoned her quest to Aquore and headed north. Her left hind leg was in bad shape from her fall and she needed help. She didn’t know many horses though and she certainly couldn’t face her parents again. The moment they learned of her mishap would be the moment her life as a lone wanderer ended. She’d be confined to her panicky mother’s side like a foal again and she couldn’t have that. There was too much she still wanted to do, too much to see. Her only option was to go see her adopted sister Sativa. Sativa wasn’t just her sister but also her closest friend. She understood Shiann better than anyone else, so if anyone could could help her, Shiann figured it had to be her. The only problem was that Sativa was a War-Forged citizen now and for her to reach her meant crossing nearly the entire continent of Hireath. Through sheer determination, Shiann managed to make it into forests of Onea. It had taken her months to get here. She was weary and her leg ached but each time she could feel the pressure in her ears and the temperature drop the closer she knew she was getting to her goal. But she wasn't close enough. Her lame leg had held her back. She should have been Skeldk Town days ago and now what she dreaded most was coming true. The Night of Bloodletting was upon her. Growing up in the protection of her parents, the stories of the cultists seemed other worldly, threatening, and terrifying, but otherwise intangible. Now, alone in the depths of the dark forest treading through the rising snow, it most certainly felt real. She had to find someone or somewhere safe, or she was going to die out here. By some miracle, Shiann found a makeshift herd of mares traveling her direction and joined their ranks. Like herself, they also appeared to be vagabonds. She could tell by the way they only seemed to tolerate each other’s company for the safety of numbers. The scarred unicorn broke away from the gathered horses and addressed the group. It was clear that she would be their acting leader. “As you all know, as we've not reached our destination, the slowest or the weakest is likely to suffer.” Despite the cold Shiann began to sweat. She could feel the tension rise as the other mares realized the truth of her words. This was no herd. Everyone would be expected to fend for themselves if things turned sour. Shiann’s thoughts went to her leg. Aside from the pregnant one, her chances of outrunning any of her companions seemed slim. Gods help me.
(454)
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Post by posy-punch on Jan 17, 2016 22:37:36 GMT -6
Rynn | Bard The fact that the mare dragging the branch behind them was pregnant truly unsettled the palomino bay mare. She was in no condition to run and the fact that that was so broke Rynn's heart. There would be no mercy from her however, should the worst come to happen. Her only job was to make sure that the mares in her group began running... She couldn't pony up with someone and fend off attackers while ushering the mare's through the forest. If the cultists came... It would be this palomino mare or the dapple grey that would find themselves in the most danger by the looks of things. Unless something happened before the Cultists found them. Or nothing happened and all of these future scenarios ended with them all getting to the Town. The mare was a nervous talker, but at this point she talked only to let everyone know what was going through her mind, and even then... her voice carried next to no volume. It stayed next to silent. "We're only a few miles off of the town," the mare said. The path had certain signs and checkpoint markers, besides, if they came to a cliff edge they would likely be able to see the flickering lights of the town. She sighed, "If we hear or see the Cultists before they see or hear us, try first to get to a sheltered area away from them... and then if you hear nothing, run." The mare was formulating plans only to keep herself at ease. But it was not easy. "We're not looking for heroics if they do show up. If you see them, do not attack them unless you have no other option. They're running on adrenaline tonight... waiting for the poor soul they'll leech. If you see one of them and they see you, just run, don't shout, nothing. Stay quiet if you can and run. We'll all pick up the message when someone flies past us with terror in their eyes." She flicked her ears this way and that, catching all of the sounds of the forest. She became familiar with the rustle of leaves. The snow got considerably thicker in this area, it went up to her knees in certain parts, so she kept swinging her head around to watch the others, because even though in an instant she would leave them all... while they were there she may as well look after them. The moon continued its steady rise and the true weight of the situation set in. They had a few more hours left to go, but for half of that time they would be stuck in the area Cultists prowled. Softly the unicorn whispered a prayer. " Speed to the Lame, Focus to the Unfocused, Luck to the Braided, Wings to the Horned, and Shelter to the Round. Alya to protect them all, wings that sheltered against the lies and terror of the forest around them."[493 Words] |
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Post by Flarism on Jan 17, 2016 23:06:05 GMT -6
And so they went. This small band of unsteady allies. Each hoping no harm befell their new comrades, and each hoping that if they were found, it was not them that fell. They walked in a single line, Cassidy taking up the rear. As the snow deepened, the branch was abandoned, and she took to simply kicking the walls of snow closed behind them. Such a trail was hardly hidden, but what else could they do? With snow up to their bellies, it was nigh impossible to leave it looking unmarked. She let out a soft sigh, the cold turning her warm breath to smoke before the wind whipped it away. Rynn's whispered prayer reached her ears through the night's stillness, and she found it comforting. She wasn't sure why, for she believed little in the gods of the herd-keepers. Maybe it was simply a pleasant thought to think any looked out for their protection on this deadly night. She would survive. She had to. She was certain the Vindicators would free her lost husband, and she had to remain to reunite with him. Else he would travel the whole of Hireath a thousand times over in search of her. Drowning in the misery of uncertainty. She could not imagine a worse fate for one she loved. And for her child as well, she must make it to Skeldr. The little colt, whose name she already knew like her own heartbeat. Ivan. "Have... have any of you been out during the Bloodletting before?" she asked, her voice shaking with fear and cold in equal measure. Queerly Edit: you're screwed [265 Words - Post 2]
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Post by sansatine on Jan 18, 2016 12:25:22 GMT -6
Alois | Bard
Alois looked around her. A scraggly gang, no doubt, but they might make it to Skeldr yet. The mare fell out of the line. There was no way to hear and observe behind them when all she could hear was the thick tearing of snow by legs and heavy breath. Alois stayed still until she was next to the pregnant mare. The flower in her hair was still as vibrant as ever and reminded Alois of better times. The palomino had long abandoned the brush, though, which Alois herself had done, too, in this snow depth. At least it slow us down as much as them, she though with a side ward glance to the mare beside her. Alois turned forward and studied the horses before her. Each spared a glance every which way now and again, but one was limping and terrified. Alois's ears went back in annoyance. So far there were two horses with a disability, two to throw to the wolves. Alois relaxed her her face as to not appear so outwardly hateful. She wasn't always this way, but the air of the night and the event at hand made her this way. "Have... have any of you been out during the Bloodletting before?" asked the mare beside her, obviously letting her nerves talk. "Keep your voice low," Alois ordered in a hushed tone while looking behind them. When she looked back to the mare, she felt pity. She's scared, humor her."but, not typically. I try to get as far south as possible in this season." she added, lowering her head. Alois tossed her head forward, silently asking the palomino to speed up, and Alois stayed still. Looking deep back on the path they'd used, she saw movement. Alois turned forward, but kept every sense she had aimed behind her. It's nothing but Paranoia. 311 |
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Post by Chipo-H0P3 on Jan 18, 2016 14:12:45 GMT -6
Shiann | Wanderer
Shiann involuntarily shivered, shaking away some of the snow that had collected in her mane and sighed heavily to try ease her nerves. She watched her breath gather and then disappear with the wind. Gods was it cold, but it sounded like the band was making progress. Just a few more miles, Shiann mentally sang to herself , the unicorn said just a few more miles. We’ll be there in nooo time. Not getting married to a demon tonight. Not getting murdered by a cultist tonight. WHY DOESN’T THAT MOUNTAIN LOOK ANY CLOSER?? It wasn’t long before the mental song turned into a mental scream. No doubt she was wearing her emotions because Shiann could feel the unpleasant stare of the grey mare that had fallen in step behind her. The critical eyes made her feel self-conscious. I need to calm down.
Then the palomino mother spoke up in a shaky voice. Shiann knew she shouldn’t be talking but she welcomed the distraction. The snarky grey was talking too. Shiann turned her head slightly to look at the both of them, doing her best to still maintain her pace. The grey treated the other mare tenderly, speaking to her softly and then ushering her ahead. Maybe she wasn’t so bad, she had a heart at least. The pregnant palomino complied to the grey’s request and fell in line closer to Shiann. She turned to the mother and gave her a weak smile. “You want to know something funny?” She whispered, “When I was younger, before this gimpy leg, I actually went searching for the Cultists once. I never saw one, you know, always wondered what they’d look like.” A frail laugh escaped her, “Kind of a stupid thing to do, all things considered.”(295)
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Post by MapleEgg on Jan 20, 2016 0:24:13 GMT -6
Seeker | WandererShe was free in her wildness. She was a wanderess, a drop of free water. She belonged to no man and to no city”
― Roman Payne, The Wanderess
Seeker simply followed what she was taking as their temporary leader,the one who seemed to be talking the most. She knew not any of their names and wished she had. Atleast that would make it seem a little less lonely to the brown mare. Keeping her head low she swiveled her ears this way and that trying to hear something, anything. The snow muffled eve their own crunching steps. Absent mindedly she kept on ear turned towards the mares behind her. One was obviously with foal and the other injured from something and her heart hurt from the sight. With a silent prayer to no God in particular she hoped the snow would mask them until they reached their safety. Seeker had heard stories in her home Aodh when she was a slave but she took those as stories. Now, a vagabond, she had learned of this night where blood was to be spilled and that she happened to be in the area. At first she was terrified, in fact some of the remaining fear caused her flanks to quiver along with the biting cold. How did she keep ending up in situations where she could very well die. Huffing slightly to herself she let that train of thought go as her steps took more and more effort to accomplish. Glancing up past the leading mare she sighed at the fact of how far they had to go. With her stomach dropping in worry at that fact, Seeker turned her head backwards and watched the pretty mares behind her with her bi-colored eyes for a moment before turning back to the trail ahead. "It does little to cover our tracks, the snow is deepening. Don't waste energy you may need" Seekers clear bell voice was hard to keep quiet and she thanked the dampening snow falling about them. She tried to as she spoke, both to the leading female and the mother who took to trying to kick in snow. --- Word count : 337
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Post by posy-punch on Jan 20, 2016 21:01:40 GMT -6
Rynn | Bard Rynn stopped what little she was doing to cover their tracks. She stayed quiet for a moment or two before speaking again, "I've been in these forests on a Bloodletting night... One of my excursions a few years ago brought me here, and quite frankly I only heard that it was a legend, the desert dwellers don't tell much of it, if at all. This night to chase a bride. So I continued on my way without a care in my mind, but found myself hiding in a small ravine as I heard the mare streaking by." She pinned her ears as if remembering the awful night. "I only heard her though, didn't smell her, didn't see her. Then she was gone and the 'wolves' following her chased near silently behind." Her voice drifted off, her eyes reaching another dimension of thought and perception. She hadn't thought much of the outcome of said events at the time, or that she may relive them again. "Alya will protect us, I am sure of it." The mare drifted backwards, slowing her step in order to stay in the group. It was extremely cold out, but the pony had her winter coat in full fledge and she felt a small bit of discomfort for each of the short haired mares. They must be freezing. She watched the pregnant mare and the clear voiced mare out of the corner of her eye, and watched the grey mare who seemed to often be contemplating her course of action and weighing the odds with a small pang of sadness. The lame mare was gentle to this dear palomino with the flower in her mane. "I won't force nor ask for y'all's names... but if you need to scream for someone... Scream for me as Rynn and I'll find you. If I can't help you survive and can only watch... your soul will be embodied in the stories of the future." Her heart throbbed at the thought, and with those words she felt the fear that it could be her. In which case she would not scream for anyone, anyone but her god. "If it's me, have fun chickadees and get to the Town, I don't expect any of y'all to feel attached to me at all." Grant her wings to the sky. The mare shook her pale mane and the fluffy braid she wore was released from it's loose knot. Her eyes gleamed as she memorized what each horse in the group looked like, just in case. Just in case. [427 Words] |
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Post by Queerly on Jan 21, 2016 21:20:23 GMT -6
What was that sound?
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They're coming.
Genesis will make the next post; once she has, you may continue posting in whatever order you like!
Jennycallie edit: OH NO |
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Post by RusticForrest on Jan 21, 2016 22:26:22 GMT -6
[ Genesis | Ascendant ]
"Let us bring glory to the great Father of blood. . ."
[ WC: 570 | post #: 2 ]
For hours their search continued, snow billowing from beneath their hooves, a cloud of breath following in their wake like rolling morning mist. From where she ran at the lead, the Ascendant's nose never dropped, her gaze never faltered, and her legs never slowed. Though the cold bit through her winter-thickened coat, it held no grip on her. This night was far, far too important. They ran, on and on. Until-
"Mother." Kira's voice, trembling with barely contained lust for blood. A single ear swiveled towards it. "Mother, to the east." Turning her nose, a scent tickled across her nostrils. Yes. Oh, yes indeed. A quirk of a brow, and a devilish smile were all that she gave her companions now, before moving, changing course with the hard-earned precision of a killer set on hunting down it's prey. Like the wolves, their pack moved swiftly, running with barely a sound.
There were voices. Genesis' heart leaped into action, her own energy a tangible force in the air about their warm bodies. She could smell them. "Alya will protect us. . ." She could smell their fear. The small band was rank with it. "...scream for me as Rynn..." A deep chuckle rocked her chest. 'You will all scream.' Turning once to each side, she signaled her party to move. With a simple flick of her tail, they vanished into the darkness. "You know what to do." She trusted them, in her own way. They would follow, and they would have their glory. All of them.
It was only once she'd lost sight of her followers that Genesis moved forwards, her hooves hardly able to keep contact with the ground for more than a split second. Reining herself in, taking control of the lust threatening to throw her prematurely into the chase, she settled. They were coming this way. Ah, what an easy catch this was. It was all too easy. Before they could have guessed, Genesis was standing in their path, vaporizing from the sacred shadows about the trees, her blood colored coat standing out now in stark contrast to the white snow. Her lips drawn into a smile, she bore her teeth, and examined them one by one. Mares. All mares. Oh, how delightful! Served up on a silver platter, they stood now before her. "Ah-ah, before you think about running," she scolded, a tone all too easily teasing taking hold of her voice. From around them in the treeline, her Cultists stepped forwards, trapping the small group in a circle of deadly teeth and hooves. "Oh, my, how incredibly kind of you all to join us tonight. I am sure that you all know of our little... game. And, I must say, I count you all among the lucky, for one of you will be chosen to participate. One of you will be given an honor far higher than many in this land could ever dream to possess. Digend grows lonely... his side is left empty once more this year. The solution is simple... One of you must join him in everlasting rest. Beside our Father, you will be honored." Her amber eyes halted on the pregnant mare, the smile growing across her muzzle.
"The rules are simple. Run. Do not stop, unless you wish to face your destiny. Ultimately, you shall, and don't you dare stand in my way."
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Post by Queerly on Jan 21, 2016 22:31:32 GMT -6
Plot 001: Wandering Stars
"The rules are simple. Run. Do not stop, unless you wish to face your destiny."
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Post by sansatine on Jan 21, 2016 23:18:37 GMT -6
Alois | Bard
Paranoia or not, it was sensible to be aware. Surely there was a broken twig behind them not broken by them. Maybe a hare was clumsy, maybe the snow was just too heavy. Either way, Alois needed these mares to shut up so she could listen. This is the problem with bards, she remarked to herself, they make everything a story. Alois would never recount tonight. One of them was to die and Alois was not planning on it being her. Sure, a pang of guilt would cross her mind when it was summer and she crossed these forests again, but this was the lifestyle she chose. The safety of a herd comes at the cost of your freedom-
Now she heard something other than the nervous chatter of the mares. . . No. . It was nothing, she saw nothing, just heard it. It's nothing. Just snow falling, mares breathing, nothing. It was nothing.
Until it wasn't. Eyes. Through the snow and brush she saw eyes. They were watching and not full of curiosity but lust. Alois was more than on edge, and while she tried to tell her self that they were berries or something like that, she knew they were eyes. Deep down, further than even she could tell, she wanted them to arrive to Skeldr town safely, with everyone together and happy.
Before Alois could even warn the others, there was blood on the snow. This blood spoke and seemed more of venom than blood, but the color was the same. Alois closed the gap she put between her and the group and looked in all directions. They were surrounded. A Game? You think this is a game? Alois thought in disbelief. To hell with you game! You and you fake gods! Alois screamed- in her head of course. There was no way she'd be brave enough to make a villain of herself to them. She watched their leader, the blood-colored horse, eye the group before she focused on the mare right next to her. The pregnant one was up for the kill.
Alois picked a direction to run. A rocky one. The mare was sure footed enough, but she was in cultist territory, so they were certainly just as sure. So long as she could put distance between them, between her, the lame, and the pregnant, she would live without guilt and without knowing who fell to their knees before the sun could rise.
More importantly, she would live.
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Post by Flarism on Jan 22, 2016 14:55:48 GMT -6
The few precious moments of calm she'd had, listening to these fate-tied mares with her talk, it was all taken away in an instant. When she met the gaze of the Ascendant, she gazed into the abyss. Cold, empty, all-consuming. Just the sight of it could eat her alive, if she was not careful. How could an equine like her hold such malice, such evil? Or was this an evil spirit, mocking her by taking such a shape? The blood-colored mare's words were hardly audible over the rush of panic in Cassidy's ears, but one line she heard in a clarity almost painful. "Run. Do not stop, unless you wish to face your destiny." The mother-to-be backed up a few fearful steps, but did not yet bolt. Maybe the group would band together. Fight. Maybe. ... No. She couldn't risk it. Ivan was too precious to lose. And so she turned on her heels, surging though the snow back the way they'd come, leaving her fellows between her and their foe. Their abandonment of covering their tracks would prove a boon now, for she had a clear path through which to make some headway. She didn't look back, didn't dare. She hoped her wayward companions would follow, hoped they might all somehow escape this yet. [214 Words - Post 3]
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Post by thewhiteisland on Jan 22, 2016 18:22:37 GMT -6
Lars - Cultist
Post 2
WC - 190
After hours of speedy travel, the bloodthirsty group happened upon a band of mares. How considerate of them, making Lars' job easier. Lars' cranium throbbed with excitement and blood flowed freely from his flared nostrils.
While the Ascendent spoke to the group of terrified mares, Lars prowled towards the rear of the group, throughly examining each potential bride. Two in particular stuck out to the stallion. Lars noticed the grey paint favoring a leg and an oddly round palomino, either burdened with pregnancy or out of shape. Either seemed a perfect fit, then Lars observed Genesis' gaze momentarily fall upon the palomino. "I think we've found her, my Lord," the stallion whispered inaudibly.
With a potential bride selected, Lars picked up his pace and lithely trotted to the rear of the mares, his ears pricked in Genesis' direction. The stallion heard the Ascendent's words echo throughout the trees, "Run. Do not stop, unless you wish to face your destiny."
He stopped a couple lengths behind the group and audibly snorted, "Ladies, so glad you could join us! We have something most spectacular planned this evening for you all to enjoy."
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Post by posy-punch on Jan 22, 2016 18:41:59 GMT -6
Rynn | Bard
"Fuck you and your false god." She spat then, at the dark no-maned stallion whose voice of contempt caused all of her fear and anger and hatred boiling up inside of her. She didn't wait to see if the lash of phlegm had reached its mark. Her glittering black horn, much like a dark spear or sword, became a blur... And she whipped around, her palomino and bay coat becoming a blur along with her horn, darting onto the snow cleared path and then after a few horse lengths she leapt off of it into the deep snow. It went up to her belly, but the mare driven by fear and adrenaline began hopping. Her stout legs pushing her from the snow at a nice pace. She could see the pregnant mare a ways ahead of her. Covering distance, but not as fast as Rynn would have hoped for her to go. The foal she was carrying was halting her otherwise what looked like could have been promising speed. Her eyes flashed with a sudden realization. She was on a clear path that the wolves could just as easily follow. Like when a sheep darts up what would be a hidden mountain pass and the lions follow it with ease. Then where the lamb would have hoped to find safety, all there is, is the end of the chase. She shook her mane. Her braid billowed out behind her, just like her fluffy tail. If any had latched onto her or were latching to her by now, she would kick their jaws into their throat. Or she'd run to a cliff. If she fell, the one behind her might as well. And if it did not fall. She could bear to be beside her lord as she watched a foul things chase come to a halt. She took a few more quick breaths and then dove again for another path through the trees. The snow deepened further, likely a small ravine she'd just jumped into, a spear of pain went through her spine at the jolt of the impact at the bottom of the dip. Snow shot around her shoulders as she seemed to sink in it. She plunged through yet again. Her slim shoulders cutting through the snow, her panic keeping her warm. The drift ended and she emerged form the deep snow to find a normal depth waiting. She ran now, able to kick the snow from her path with ease. She could see one mare, Cassidy, the palomino. She kept the mare in her sight, she wouldn't let this one go alone, if she did manage to outrun them then Rynn wanted to be near enough to help her to the Town. They were going the wrong way, so Rynn realized with a sharp pain that she'd eventually have to turn around. If the other mare continued her dash, Rynn would not be able to stay. Her head whipped around searching for any other horses and in that moment she also did a quick check behind her. Was there anyone bothering to chase her, or were they already focused on someone? [524 Words] |
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Post by SagaWolf on Jan 23, 2016 13:35:00 GMT -6
Fletcher | Cultist Post 2 Word Count: 392
The snow was beautiful, white and pure, surrounding the dark cultists on all sides. It formed into clumps of ice in Fletcher's long mane and tail but was hardly noticed by the stallion as he drifted alongside the others. This glorious event was the highlight of each year and one he hadn't missed since his first participation as a young colt. They were an enthralling group, the cultists, weaving through the trees, pushing through the stillness of white, smoke billowing from nostrils, leaving only disturbed snow in their wake, a silent clue of their passing, which might not even last until morning. For hours Fletcher followed in silence, ears twisting and turning, nostrils flared and head weaving into the wind, trying to catch the scent of their illusive prey. While the hunt itself was spectacular, the graying stallion hoped they would come upon a suitable bride sooner rather than later, as the cold was beginning to nip at his legs. And then one of the twin's spoke an answer to his prayers, and as Fletcher breathed deeply of the freezing air, he caught the same tantalizing scent that had Genesis change their direction, followed soon by muffled words carried on the wind. Excitement flooded his veins and sent heat rushing into his frozen legs. This was it. The hunt was finally about to being. As per instructions and so many hunts before, Fletcher fanned out with the others, slinking through dark shadows to form a ring around the poor, wandering mares, only he made sure to stand a little off to one side, making the gap between himself and his fellow cultist an appealing escape. It made for a natural funnel most of the time, but with groups you never quite knew how they would react. Three broken away as soon as Genesis had spoken, and Fletcher longed to give chase, but where was the fun in that? He held back, chuckling darkly as he tossed his mane, giving the desperate souls the distance they sought. Feed them a mouthful of hope and it became much more delightful to snuff out the light in their eyes. He waited for the last mares to run so he could judge all of them and he waited for Genesis. Not until the blood colored Ascendant gave them free reign would he bolt after the mares. |
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Post by MapleEgg on Jan 23, 2016 14:31:12 GMT -6
Seeker | WandererShe was free in her wildness. She was a wanderess, a drop of free water. She belonged to no man and to no city”
― Roman Payne, The Wanderess
It just happened suddenly, so sudden that Seeker momentarily forgot the shiver in her flanks and the fear that she was trying to keep out of her voice as she spoke. They were here, all around them now and although her momentary lapse of fear continued on, it did not stop the drop in her stomach from happening. The bi-colored eyes narrowed in response to the jeers and taunts now thrown at them. The dirt colored mare let her ears twitch to the others that rushed off, a small snort pushed past her nostrils and clouded and disappeared. If they had stayed together they may have had the chance to fight for their lives or even turned this sick game upon the others. That mattered little now as another mare spat at them and tore off following the pregnant one. They were not chasing them though and though the pretty light mare was eyeing methods of escape she had not left yet. The other, the one with the pained leg stood near. With a few ginger steps she was next to her and whispered gently "Mare, I know your weak point...." Her eyes glared at their enemies, they need not know about the gimp leg if they had not noticed already. She would not help "We go to the left... go before me. Try not to use the weakness yet, you may need that later"(she is saying run without using that leg just yet) "I'll guard your rear.... Its all Seeker could think of, she'd give her more instructions if they could get far enough away, her wanderers mind whirling with ways to slip away. As for the others? A small flicker of sadness filled her heart but she need not think on that now.
Word Count : 298
Post Count : 2 |
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Post by Chipo-H0P3 on Jan 23, 2016 21:58:19 GMT -6
Shiann | Wanderer
No no no NO! This could not be happening, not when they were so close. Yet there they were. Menacing shadows emerged from the surrounding forest, looming over them like reaping vultures. For a while, Shiann had actually begun to think that the cultists might have taken a snow day, that this gods forsaken storm could have actually been a blessing from Ayla in disguise. How naive she had been. They should have prayed to Kaia, this was her country. Better yet, she should have gone home. Shiann stood frozen, not from the cold, but from the murderous gaze of the blood colored mare. She felt terror begin to set in. Tears began to sting her eyes. “Ladies, so glad you could join us!” A male voice spoke from out of sight. She whipped her head around to meet the black stallion’s gaze. Blood oozed out of his nose, his eyes were hungry. The beginning of a cry escaped Shiann’s mouth. She backed up closer to the other mares for some sense of security while her eyes frantically dashed around to each of their assailants. She spotted another older stallion gracefully take his position and then two smaller figures that almost moved as one entity. They all looked hungry. Shiann could feel the other mares stir from within the huddle. The pregnant palomino was the first to make a break for it. Shiann watched in shock as her silhouette disappeared into veil of snow and trees. This was really happening. Then a the tan blur of the unicorn whisked after her in the same direction. “W-wait! R-Rynn?!” Shiann’s voice hitched in the back of her throat and her heart beat in her ears. The young dappled mare felt abandoned and hopeless. She wanted her parents to come save her. The cultists continued to close in, pressuring the remanding three to take flight. Tears began to stream down her cheeks, as she realized just how short her chase would be. Despair threatened to over come her but then a stern, comforting voice came from beside her. It was the brown painted mare who had remained so quite that Shiann had overlooked her on their cursed journey. She listened to her instructions intently. "We go to the left... go before me. Try not to use the weakness yet, you may need that later…I’ll guard your rear….” Shiann looked at the mare beside her in wonder. She had used the word ‘we’. Suddenly she wasn’t alone anymore. More tears began to swell in her eyes but these came from gratitude and hope. Shiann gave quick nod signaling she understood the plan then eyed the gap in-between the monsters that she would escape through. Adrenaline pumped thickly through her veins while she mustered up every bit of courage to make her move. She peeked at the mare beside her one last time before clenching her eyes shut, too scared another glance from the cultists would steel away her nerve. One last breath and she bolted shoving away a cultist in her path. She stepped lightly on her strained heel, she could push it later, though the pain was far from her mind.
Thank you. Thank you for giving me courage.
(540)
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Post by Queerly on Jan 24, 2016 1:59:17 GMT -6
It was time. Time for the chase, the commemoration, the kill. Here, witnessed by the dark, crawling things of the forest and Lord Digend's all-seeing gaze, his reverent disciples would give their sanguinary offering. The Twins could almost taste the blood between their teeth, and hear the phantom snap of sinew and bone.
They slithered from the forest as one entity, a pair of shadows entangled. As Mother spoke, they beheld the evening's choices. Love, Silver, Freedom, Courage, Vessel. Kira's eyes lingered upon Rynn, drawn to a fire she could snuff; Arik's gaze slid across Shiann's aging wound, noting her vulnerability with glacial apathy.
Run, Mother bid, her voice rife with ecstasy. And so they did, the dapple gray tagging Arik's shoulder as she made her escape. The stallion startled, nostrils flaring in shock. "Such-"
"-Audacity," Kira snarled.
They did not need to verbally confirm their shared decision. They would chase Shiann and Seeker. Unified in movement, the Twins turned and leaped into the snow, no less than hounds on the heels of a fox. Within their sights, the Wanderers would be given no rest, not even the smallest respite.
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Post by MapleEgg on Jan 25, 2016 18:43:51 GMT -6
Seeker | WandererShe was free in her wildness. She was a wanderess, a drop of free water. She belonged to no man and to no city”
― Roman Payne, The Wanderess
Seeker coughed out as she ran, the cold winter air stinging her body and lungs. Glancing ahead of her, the injured mare loomed. Her own focus on the flight at hand and with a fair amount of ease Seeker pushed snow until she reached the side of her life's flight companion. "The name is Seeker, mare. No need to divulge yours if you do not wish" Glancing back had been a mistake as she saw the two identical dark figures dipping in and out of sight behind them. "Damn it again" The curse was soft but audible. Not wanting to scare the injured mare beside her but wanting her to know the gravity of their situation she decided to tell her what was behind them. "We have those blasted twins. The two dark ones?" Seeker was not sure if her fellow had took notice of the finds at all. "I had hoped for one of the brutes" She could outrun brute stallions. But that was not happening, they were saddled with two agile horses. Glancing back she noted no strain on their pursuers on keeping speed with them. They were being toyed with. "Chances are not good" she spoke between deep pulls of cold air. " We can't outrun them straight out, and I doubt we can mislead them easily. Keep eyes peeled for stream beds or rock faces. I do not know this land. Our best chance is to try and confuse them long enough to gain distance so we can reach the town" Although panting Seekers joy was the free world and running, she could go for hours. But the bi-colored eyes looked down at the injury the mare had and her heart felt like it dropped into her stomach
Word Count : 293
Post Count : 3 |
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Post by RusticForrest on Jan 25, 2016 20:01:36 GMT -6
[ Genesis | The Ascendant ][ WC: 427 | post #: 3 ]
A deep, rolling laugh rocked the mare's sides as blood-colored eyes beheld all before her, beheld the fear. Oh how quickly they ran, how quickly they turned to flee away from the power of the Cultists. The mirth with which she watched them flee was one that would unsettle even the strongest of wills. Like a cat with a mouse, she would toy with her prey, give chase, catch, toss, play. The moment the pregnant palomino had caught her gaze, Genesis knew her target. She knew. But who was to say they would have to know just yet? They could all be toyed with, dangled on the end of a rope before their untimely 'demise.'
Baring her teeth in a chilling smile (see above xD) the scarred mare turned to her companions, watching easily as her twins took off after the pair of mares, like ghosts on the hunt their departure had been swift, disappearing into the shadows like they had always been taught. As for the two remaining- Lars and Fletcher, she had a special purpose for each of them. Another laugh, and she addressed them both, "After the chimera and the white one, pick your target and move swiftly. Wait for my call. You will hear it in the smoke. The pregnant one is mine," she hissed in conclusion, clearly claiming her prey, and fixing it with a wolfish growl. "Go, waste no more time. Run them down, show no mercy."
And she departed from their presence, eyes boring in on her target, the smile never leaving her scarred muzzle. Digend, what a bride you have given us tonight, the murmured thought floated to her Lord. There is but one who's blood shall mix with the snow, one who will become one flesh with you. May the chase be pleasing to you. Genesis was running, long legs stretched wide before her as she plowed through the snow, following the footprints of the one who had gone before her. So swollen was this mare with child that she could hardly outrace one who was free of such a burden, but Genesis could certainly make her think it. Mhhh, but what was the fun in that? Why not come down upon her swiftly, decisively.
The distance between them was closing, with each passing step Genesis drew closer and closer. She was coming up on her now. "There is no where to run where I cannot find you," the words whispered on the wind, followed by mad laughter.
A glorious chase. |
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Post by sansatine on Jan 25, 2016 20:33:30 GMT -6
Alois | Bard
Alois was frozen. While she made her plan for escape, her Vagabond counterparts had bolted. Each ran in a new direction, leaving the mare alone with the remaining cultists. With a grunt and a few uncertain steps, Alois took the path covered with rocks and nearly vertical. She dove down a bit, not daring to let her eyes stray. The rocks were covered in ice and slick, but she was committed to her cause. She placed each step quickly but firmly before reaching another path.
Alois ran down the path, not realizing that she had cuts on her legs from the rocks. The heavy show was now tinted with light blood and she was easily tracked by wolves and 'wolves'. The mare silently cursed, but continued anyway. Not one glance was spared back, but surely someone followed. Alois slowed her pace as a feeble attempt to maintain her stamina. As she ran, Alois thought about where Skeldr town was. She'd run the opposite way. The thought of turning around had it's appeal, but also was surely ridden with the remaining horde of cultists.
The road, Alois decided, there will be other candidates for this chase. With that thought, the mare turned her path slightly left. May the War Lord's road serve my use- Alois heard something, damned was she with this perception talent.
Someone followed.
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Post by Flarism on Jan 25, 2016 20:49:14 GMT -6
She may have bolted in fright, but Cassidy was no fool. She knew the path she tred took her further from town, and that the cleared path would keep her pursuer as fast as she. In her mind, it was simply the best of bad options. Making it to town while under pursuit seemed an impossibility, and the deep snow would slow her far more than the cultists. So she made do with what she had, ramming her shoulder into the snow walls to collapse them as she passed. Any second it bought her was precious, though fleeting. The sound of the blood mare's hoofbeats pounded in her ears, an endless cacophony of the chaos they preached. She was under no illusions they would spare her in her pregnancy. No, it likely made her more of a target. But for Ivan's sake, she would find a way. She passed a dead tree, the trunk half-rotted, and brittle from the cold. With all the force she could muster, Cassidy slammed into it, toppling the trunk onto the path behind her. It was thin enough that the jump over would not be difficult, but the branches that stuck en masse from the bark were thick and jagged. [205 Words - Post 4]
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Post by SagaWolf on Jan 26, 2016 23:23:41 GMT -6
Fletcher | Cultist Post 3 Word Count: 225
Fletcher bolted as soon as words of permission left the Ascendant, launching himself after the white mare, leaving the chimera unicorn for younger Lars to wrangle. His choice was entirely selfish, wanting nothing to do with dangerous horns when there was much more suitable prey to be had. A few moments later he was damning his choice as sharp ice-clad rock threatened to steal his footing more than once. His skin was nicked, though nothing crippling, and the tickle of warm blood along slender legs only served to fuel his drive and devotion. She'd picked a challenging route for sure, but it wasn't going to shake him off, especially not after catching a whiff of her blood in the cold air, causing his lips to curl up in a toothy grin. When the ground began to level out, leaving most of the treacherous rocks behind, Fletcher understood what the mare was hoping to accomplish, the safety of the Road. He'd traveled these parts for years and it was refreshing to follow someone knowledgeable. "You won't make it! " he shouted into the wind, putting everything into each long stride, plowing through snow with the energy of a stallion possessed. He was aiming to pull up alongside her, slowly but surely adding pressure to steer her back towards the others and cut her off from the road. |
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Post by sansatine on Jan 26, 2016 23:49:29 GMT -6
Alois | Bard
As she ran, Alois ran what the red mare said to the group before their split. A game. How is this a game? There is no joy in it, no pleasantries, she reasoned as she evaded captors. A grey and white stallion was chasing her, and called to her, but his words were lost in the wind. The mare's rage grew more inside her as the space between them closed, slowly, but surly. He was steering her away from her path, away from the Road. He drew nearer and nearer with every stride and within seconds she could smell the blood and shit that surrounded him. The grey was now ahead of her,and more importantly, between her and the road. Alois had had it. She stopped dead, not wanting to continue.
"I'm done," she declared with a snow-muffled stomp," this isn't a game to me! I won't play it."
She wasn't giving up, no, she was buying time. Time to think, time to breathe, time to rest. These dogs would surely capture the lame mare, and if not her, then the mare with her foal. They'd be run out, too tired to proceed, but her? She'd be rested, stamina restored. Though, even in surrender, she dared not let the cultist rat near her. She kept him at least 7 lengths in every direction and calculated every escape path. This wasn't surrender, it was a barter.
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Post by Chipo-H0P3 on Jan 27, 2016 1:42:55 GMT -6
Shiann | Wanderer
Checking one of cultists probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but Shiann wanted them to know she wasn’t some helpless piece of meat. She feared their anger but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t proud of herself for provoking it. Her courage was building and her gait, though impaired, was steady and sure footed. Her prided stamina would be her best asset in this situation and the adrenaline was doing a good job of masking her pain. The brown paint reached her side a few strides into her initial flight. " The name is Seeker, mare. No need to divulge yours if you do not wish” Her presence was reassuring and Shiann silently thanked her again for not leaving her. “Sh-Shiann. My name is Shiann” She panted back. Ominous energy encompassed them from behind like a dark shroud. It made the hair along Shiann’s spine prickle, Seeker cursed under her breath. The twins were stalking their wake. The dapple mare peeked behind her to get an idea of their proximity. All she saw were dark shadows with wild red eyes weaving between the foliage. Shiann’s heart twinged. They’re fast. “Fucking Banshees” Shiann returned her gaze in front of her and picked up her pace. Beside her, Seeker divulged more her plan. “…Keep eyes peeled for stream beds or rock faces. I do not know this land. Our best chance is to try and confuse them long enough to gain distance so we can reach the town” Shiann grunted to signify she understood and took note of their surroundings. They had chosen a more wooded path, and the trees seemed to be getting denser. An opportunity. Shiann had grown up in the ancient Skytop forest, and hide and seek had been her favorite pass time during her boring years as a housebound filly. Though the forests were vastly different in appearance, they shared the same principles. If a hiding spot presented itself, she was sure to find it. “I know the forest, but if we are caught we should fight.” Shiann peered behind her again and scowled. “They are young. If we fight with everything, I think we can take them.” Her loving father was a proud vindicator, and he sure as hell didn’t send his daughter off into the world without teaching her how to pack a hit. The fear Shiann held was no longer crippling her, but fueling her anger, driving her forward. Bring it on devils.
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