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Post by Jennycallie on Dec 14, 2017 21:44:50 GMT -6
Hello Starborn, and welcome to Plot 508: Winter Wonderland  Team Leader: Ansgar Participants: Ansgar, Lorian, Cerys, Nerys, Synn, Iskalder, Nemesis Please keep the following in mind!- Posts must be a minimum of 175 words. There is no maximum!- No strict order is enforced, but there must be at least two posts between your own character's.- No god-moding or reading characters' minds (unless your pony is a literal telepath, anyway)
- Always get consent before harming another character!- Your team is precious. Try to interact with everyone. <3- Have fun! Even if your pony isn't. 8'DPrompt: Forced from the Ghosthold, the once exile that had become a home and refuge, a small group of Flanks led by Ansgar have made their laborious journey south through the unforgiving tundra and mountain ranges that dominate northern Onea. The light is fading on another day, but ominous clouds on the horizon and a deep, distant sound indicate that a viscous storm is on the way. Location: North of Skeldr Town Time of Day: Evening Current Weather: dancin and prancin in the frosty air You do not have to wait for your leader to post!
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Post by Deleted on Dec 16, 2017 8:12:50 GMT -6
NERYS
Nerys was walking in the middle of the group, head low and focused on her own legs mostly. Her feet fell into the steps of those that walked before her, saving her some energy that plowing through the snow would have costed. She had felt very excited to get going, but the laborious journey had turned that into a steadier anticipation. Not that she really showed it - her expression was rather grim. Ears pinned so they hid into her tangly mane, and a pelt keeping her warm. All of her tentacles were neatly curled underneath the pelt - she had soon learned that they were the most sensitive to cold after she had joined the Bloody Flanks in their frozen home. It had indeed been a home, even if for a short time for her.
She had her short sword to her side, and some necessary items in case there was a medical emergency. These kinds of expeditions seemed like they were asking for it. But other than that, she was happy not to be carrying a lot of weight, there sure was enough strain on the body without it.
She eyed the horizon worriedly, hoping they would manage to find some kind of cover.
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Post by Sargeant-Knoxx on Dec 16, 2017 14:37:51 GMT -6
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| Bloody-Flank Scout |
"Humanity is not Honor-"
The frosty breeze that raced across the evening tundra was not the only thing that gnawed at Synn's very core as she plowed in front of the group. Guilt and regret chewed her insides like a disease, causing her mouth to sour and heart to fester. Everything that could have gone wrong thus far, had gone wrong- and the only thing she did was sit.. And watch. Vidalia had stowed away with the Trespasser, leaving her herd behind to suffer. Leaving Synn to wonder where she'd gone wrong. And Odina.. Synn gave pause in the freezing cold as a wave of pain filled her chest. The bodies of her fallen brethren had been frozen to the ground.. claimed by the ice and snow. The scout could still recall the look on the faces of the people when news broke of there death. Gidal had lost yet another child to forces outside of their homeland.
Snorting, the scout gave a very brief glance over her shoulder, ghostly green teke pulling the forearm of her thick bear-hide across the rigging on her chest in a feeble attempt to staved off the chill. She was a decent distance ahead but close enough that one could see her breath as she turned and pushed on, huffing ad puffing to carve a path through the dense powder around them. The heavens above were streaked with bands of starlight, and if one paid enough attention- you could see aurora bouncing off the dark sky. And yet they would only to vanish again, for on the horizon dark clouds were amassing like a shadowy army- its ranks rumbling to the sound of thunderous wardrums.
They wouldn't be able to cover much more ground before the storm would be upon them. Even more unfortunate, the land was no longer familiar to Synn. They could be walking blindly into War-Forged hooves without evening meaning to at the rate they were going. The dappled equine was quickly realizing, especially with the pregnant Cerys in tow, that shelter was becoming a necessity. The huntress stopped on a rise, turning her attention to the line that came up to meet her. Green eyes scanned every bundled face in the company, analyzing, pondering. Finally, her gaze came to rest on the pale face of her captain. She did not look him in the eye, but addressed him.
"Ansgar, perhaps now would be the time to adjust our course.." her breath was hot and billowed from her nostrils and teeth to form fleeting cloud banks around her head.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 16, 2017 19:14:04 GMT -6
ansgar CRAWL ON MY BELLY TIL THE SUN GOES DOWN
I’LL NEVER WEAR YOUR BROKEN CROWN
Ansgar trudged on at the back of the group, gaze attentive as he observed his fellow party members. The darkening skies were making his task as watcher harder than it had to be, and he called out for them to remain close. Cerys walked closest to him, and he inhaled at the sight of her. Her presence here was not entirely of her own free will, but he knew if shit went awry he would rather she was with him than not. The last time he was away was disastrous, and he was painfully aware of all the damage that had brought them to this point - though he knew better than to think about it at this time. From a young age he was taught to suffocate grief, and all too many losses made him numb to the sensation of it. He forced himself to focus on anything but the devastation they were all leaving behind, heaving a sigh as they all came to a brief halt. Ansgar’s attention flickered to Cerys once more as Synn spoke, and his ears swivelled in the scout’s direction, though that was all he did to show he was listening. Wordlessly he removed his pelt, a faint glow of red teke encompassing it as he placed it upon Cerys’ frame. The intensity of the cold was brutal, and he gritted his teeth as the winds stung his bare sides. Still, he focused on adjusting the pelt so it covered as much of her as possible. He had to focus on anything other than the chill. “And what other course do you suggest we take, Synn? There’s only one way to go- south,” he huffed before continuing, “we’re to stay on the same path. There’s nowhere else to go.”Ansgar flattened his ears and finally glanced at Synn, unsurprised to see that her eyes did not meet his. Perhaps it was for the better that they all kept their distance from him. _________________
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Post by FaunaFawn on Dec 16, 2017 20:18:02 GMT -6
Nemesis
She will burn down your kingdoms,
herself with it, if it meant
your ruin
Tucked away in her cloak, her head of tentacles seemed to loop through the holes within it to ensure the hood of it stayed firmly on her head. Even though the winds screamed and the sun was soon to blink out of sight. Still this small band of creatures unwilling to die seemed to move on wards. Nemesis would consider herself impressed with the lot of them, if she wasn't already fuming.
Eyes narrowed as she moved forwards with the group, near the front to keep an eye on the weather. Which of course the weather was terrible, no correction it was going to get terrible fast. "I'd advise to keep an eye out for a cavern of the sort. Doesn't take a genius to see the dark clouds coming for and with the sun fading we can easily freeze or get picked off by wolves. I'd like to take my chances with the wolves." she almost laughed, almost. But she kept her head forwards not bothering to look at the others. Why even waste the energy to do so?
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Post by hey-stardust on Dec 17, 2017 0:52:42 GMT -6
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CERYS | BLOODY FLANKS | MERCHANT
The devil's on your shoulder, the strangers in your head as if you don't remember, as if you can forget.
Cerys was thankful for those that paved the way ahead, easing the burden of traversing over freshly lain snow. Had they not been traveling across uncharted grounds she might have forged on alone and wandered far away from the group, but for today she was content with falling behind, even if it meant Ansgar remained close at hand.
The unicorn winced as a kick struck her side, head jerking up in response to the sudden action. Cerys was close to full term, and the effort was taking a heavy toll on her body. Though she carried nothing but a pelt across her shoulders, the overwhelming signs of fatigue were beginning to show.
As Synn called to change course and waited for their captain’s orders, Cerys flicked an ear back curiously at the distinct sound of clothing being shifted, her brow raising in an unspoken question towards Ansgar as he draped a second set of furs over her back. Though she was more than capable of adjusting it herself, she sensed he needed the distraction more than she did. Cerys let her tail brush against his foreleg in a half-hearted gesture of thanks, even if he had been the one to insist she come along on this godforsaken trip. Waiting patiently, she listened intently to the others with her head low, all the while taking in copious amounts of frigid air to catch her breath.
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Post by manabuns on Dec 17, 2017 8:41:25 GMT -6
Iskalder IT FEELS LIKE I'M STUCK HERE SUSPENDED AT BEST UNDERWHELMING, WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME?
MY CONSCIOUS IS CALLING BUT WORLD ISN'T ALL IT'S CRACKED UP TO BE.
Grief was a great and terrible thing, and a dreadful curse that appeared to hang off of his family like a dreadful pall. As such, it had become the norm that in the bones of those that were and came after, that numbness and apathy be carved into their bones to make them immune to it. The bones of those that guarded Ghosthold for eternity had had those precious rites written into their very essence, the bones of his mother and father both. The bones of his brothers and sisters too.
So then, if his bones were carved in such a way, why did he feel like he'd taken a volley of arrows straight to the chest? Each step he took inched them deeper into his flesh, their piercing bite seeking to reach his core. Each one his mind gripped firmly around to wretch free, without care to the wound it left behind, was replaced by a more jagged and wounding arrow in return.
A never ending, maddening circle that swallowed him up from the inside out.
Overhead, the weather seemed to match his mood and his warring mind. Crimson eyes peered up beneath the canopy of his lashes to give the darkened clouds a critical glance, as if he might find some small measure of distraction there as he trudged through the deep snow with his companions. The biting wind is staved off barely by the thick pelt draped over his frame, yet, it vengefully picked at his exposed face and ears, stung at his legs and bit at his neck in frigid gusts.
He's not sure when his legs decided to take him to match Lorian's speed, but a subconscious part of him is grateful to have the medic in close proximity, the arrows nicking his metaphorical flesh are lessened in their warpath. A muscular shoulder dipped to press against the Medic's, seeking a small measure of contact as his features warped to carry a questioning look. A silent 'are you okay?' a silent distraction.
The commotion up front is enough to dispel it a moment later, Synn's voice followed by his brother's and then Nemesis' floated through his ears in varying degrees of perceived frustration and exasperation. He's returned to the moment. The fact that they're stuck in the tundra with the howling wind and unpredictability's frigid fingers waiting to clasp around their throats. The fact that somewhere along the coast the rest of their family is on board a ship, what little is left of it — the rest is left in the wreckage of Ghosthold, in unmarked graves that they had no right residing in. They are not so exposed.
"Ansgar is right." The younger son of Gidal responded with a harsh breath, stilling as a hind hoof propped on it's point. "There is nowhere else to go but South, we're in the middle of nowhere. If we stray, we may as well sign our own death warrants." If we haven't already, the grim part of him wanted to spit. A sparing glance is given toward Cerys and her enlarged sides, and then to Lorian and then back to the harsh lines of Ansgar's face as he tried to meet his eyes. "But, we need to find shelter. Ansgar, We cannot keep this pace up, it's getting dark and that storm doesn't appear to be letting up anytime soon. We'll freeze to death before the wolves get to pick at our corpses."
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Post by PaganStars on Dec 17, 2017 19:13:39 GMT -6
Lorian
The cold had never really bothered Lorian, ever since he was a child. It was a fact of life when you lived in Onea, especially the farther north you went. His family farm had been outside Skeldr, a good day's journey to the bustling town. So he had grown up around the cold and learned to survive. But this? gods even this was pushing it. The cold nipped and gnawed at anything it could get, ranging from Lorian's frozen ears to the tip of his nose. He was without his mask, the gold helmet would have all but melded to his face in the cold and in the end, Lorian had decided it was best not to chance frostbite bite with it. Being without it, of course, caused its own set of problems. He was shivering from the cold of course, but anxiety ran rampant up and down his limbs, coursing through his spine and causing him to clench his jaw. It seemed every two seconds the stallion was glancing around, turning his head back not to check on his comrades that followed behind him but rather to make sure the looming figure of the stallion he called father wasn't out there. It was irrational, Lorian knew that. That man was dead, poisoned and left to rot in their old home. Lorian could go there now and see for himself, he knew that. Something just pulled him away, nagged at him. It infuriated him.
Lost in his own thoughts, Lorian had almost jumped from his skin when he had felt something cold yet warm press against his clothed shoulder, his head whipping up to look into the crimson eyes of Iskalder. The stallion had relaxed after a moment, his eyes brows raising ever so slightly and the smallest tilt of his head silently expressing that he was fine for now, but worried the same about him.
That brief moment was a well-needed distraction for the both of them.
When voices began to call to each other, Lorian turned his gaze to the sky and took his own look at the approaching storm, his ears slowly flipping back and his stomach knotting in worry. He hummed quietly, not agreeing nor denying what any of them said. They were all right in their own way. A decision needed to be made before they continued on.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 18, 2017 17:01:59 GMT -6
ansgar CRAWL ON MY BELLY TIL THE SUN GOES DOWN
I’LL NEVER WEAR YOUR BROKEN CROWN
Though Cerys’ touch was fleeting, it offered respite from the dread surrounding them. The cold was unrelenting, chilling him right to his bones. Ansgar didn’t respond to his brother, instead opting to look for any sign of safety - or, as safe as they could get. The darkening skies offered no help, and as the flurries grew stronger he knew they couldn’t stay out any longer, despite his instinctual desires to keep moving. Iskalder was right - they were going to freeze to death if they didn’t find shelter. “The mountain ranges.” He suddenly spoke, voice carrying over the harsh winds. “It’s our only option at finding some form of cover.” He glanced over the group, eyes taking in each of their faces and lingering on Cerys’ for a second longer than the rest. He needed to keep them all safe - they were his responsibility. At once he resumed his pace, trudging through the freshly fallen snow and gritting his teeth from the burning sensation in his legs. Once more he shouted for them to stay close, look for any signs of protection - and, for the love of Kaia, stay on guard. _________________
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Post by Deleted on Dec 19, 2017 11:32:32 GMT -6
A distant rumble, muffled by the strange silence of falling snow, threatens you from the horizon. It is the harbinger of a storm, from an indeterminable somewhere in the thick grey sky. It precedes a sudden gust of howling winds, which hits your muzzle like a knife and begs your knees to buckle.
As your party considers the mountain ranges, your eyes are drawn up toward the summits; the featureless white cliffs disappear into a halo of whirling cloud cover, high above you. You think of Ghosthold and its persistent misery, and how the winter was held at bay by the elegant ships and their warm hearths. You miss those hearths now, but keep your mind on your goal: you will meet Gidal and the others in the south. You will start again. You will defend the new Bloody Flank stronghold for as long as it takes. You will show the true War-Forged left in Onea that the War-Lord is not invincible, not as long as her greatest enemy still lives.
Are you her greatest enemy? You aren't sure.
You notice that the rumbling of the thunder hasn't stopped. It grows slowly, high above, and the vision of the sliding snow hits you just before the realization which makes your stomach turn. That's no storm. It's an avalanche.
A sheet of mountaintop, of rock and snow and ice, is tumbling toward your path. If you stay here, you may be safe from the gigantic collapse, but who knows what will be left of your path when the snow settles.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 22, 2017 13:25:47 GMT -6
NERYS
Her ears perked from underneath her mane shortly as Synn spoke. Nerys knew she was right, and was happy that someone spoke up. She didn't really feel like she was in the place to talk. She had been there through the latest tragic events, but she was new. She couldn't feel it as deep in her soul as many of the others did, so she thought it was best she stayed quiet and helped the best she could. She did still share the same goal, after all. And she was here, in this icy pit of hell together with the rest, so surely that counted for something.
She glanced back at Ansgar at his response, huffed, lowered her head and kept trucking forward. Head low the wind didn't quite catch in as nasty manner, and keeping the movement up did keep her somewhat warm. Not truly warm, but functional. A nervous bundle of energy settled to her stomach with first Nemesis' words, then Iskalder's. What if this really was the end? She surely hadn't made her peace with... well, anything.
She glanced back once more when Ansgar spoke again, then back forward, then around them. It made sense. Her gaze stayed with Cerys for a moment, assessing her breathing and how low the stomach was, the kicks visible even to the naked eye. She'd be damned if she witnessed another child's death. Quietly she prayed to Kaia that the child would not be born here, not until they were safe. If... No, they had to find safety.
She didn't feel good about the rumbling, but once she could spot the avalanche her eyes grew wide and she stopped in her tracks, almost sliding. Her first instinct was to run, get away. But there really was nowhere to run.
"We have to move!" she shouted over the rumble, hating the desperation that rang in her voice as she turned once more to look back for guidance.
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Post by Sargeant-Knoxx on Dec 27, 2017 14:42:22 GMT -6
![]() |S Y N N|
Indecision, and conflict. Two things that hindered an exodus such as this. Synn knew that her own opinions would stifle their progress if she made them known but when Ansgar made the hard-headed comment about moving forward? Well, she knew there was no room for her to say more. Orders were orders. That was of course, until his younger brother spoke some sense- Iska had always been a bit of a realist in the grey mare's eyes and it showed in the way the stallion chose his words now. He'd certainly matured over the years.. Her gaze brushed over the unicorn for a moment, then returned to the ever rising storm. The longer she stared the more her gut began to twist and turn into a much deeper sense of unease.
"The mountain ranges.."
That bit was good enough for Synn. As the group shifted in the biting cold the thick-skinned scout started trekking forward again, eyes squinted in the horizon as the colds winds intensified and lashed with new vigor against her face. Overhead, the thunder crashed again causing a halt in her pace. It sounded much louder this time- had the storm come upon them so quickly? Other eyes had turned too, and when the thundering did not cease nor falter- began to amplify in sound in fact- a grim realization came to be. It was an avalanche, and it was coming down the mountain with all the fury and speed of a falling meteor. Synn inhaled sharply, ice coating her throat in that moment when she realized that the pass would be blocked if that much snow came down at once...
"By the dead..", she cursed and Synn suddenly whipped her head to Nerys's voice it's pitch carrying above the sound of crumbling ice. The hippocampus was right- and there was not a moment to spare. "RUN! and Don't stop!" The mare began charging forward, leaping through the snow to mark a choppy path. Blood pounded in her ears, and her hide crawled with adrenaline as she continuously flashed glances over her shoulder to make sure no one fell behind.
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|Notes| Fixed coding and writing inconsistencies!
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Post by Deleted on Dec 27, 2017 15:39:16 GMT -6
ansgar CRAWL ON MY BELLY TIL THE SUN GOES DOWN
I’LL NEVER WEAR YOUR BROKEN CROWN
He should have known better. As they approached the mountains - shelter - Ansgar allowed the faintest bit of relief flood his senses. The weather was still merciless, but they would be protected and have a chance to rest. That was a foolish thought, and he’d curse his idiocy and naivety when they reached safety. If they reached safety. The rumbling sunk deep into his bones, and he felt bile rise in his throat. The thunder hadn’t died down, and his heart began to hammer in his chest when he - and the rest of the group - looked up. The sheet of white was all he could see, and horror filled his every being as it cascaded down directly towards them. Ansgar didn’t have a moment to even think before shouts broke his trance. He whipped his head around frantically, watching Synn push through the snow and as others followed suit. His eyes landed on Cerys as another rumble wracked the mountainside, and then he too was running, the sound of his pounding heart and blood rushing being the only things he could hear. _________________
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Post by hey-stardust on Dec 27, 2017 20:55:57 GMT -6
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CERYS | BLOODY FLANKS | MERCHANT
The devil's on your shoulder, the strangers in your head as if you don't remember, as if you can forget.
Cerys ran with the others and for a time, it seemed they were almost in the clear.
Almost.
Winded and far too slow, the last dregs of the avalanche collected against Cerys’ hindquarters and sent her spinning. The force behind the impact had been enough to send her to her knees, and though the sound was muffled by a bellow from the mountain, it shattered her pastern with a hearty ‘crack!’
When the sleet settled the unicorn attempted to rise, only to be met with complete and utter resistance. Her hind leg shook wildly as she tried to rest her toe on the ground, refusing to carry her weight. Looking towards the source of her agony, she realised she was never going to get back up, not of her own volition, and a wave of sickness roiled in her gut. Pressing her muzzle into the snow, Cerys ignored the slow, burning sensation and groaned softly.
Something in her body had shifted, and the feeling was familiar and unwanted all at once. This expedition had been too much, and she was going to pay for it.
Please, not now, not now…
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Post by PaganStars on Dec 27, 2017 21:31:31 GMT -6
Lorian While the others discussed more and more loudly over the growling wind, Lorian kept his head pointed towards the mountain, ears swivelling as he tried to pick up sounds past the storm. Closing his eyes, Lorian let his blessing wash over his body and expand beyond him towards the forest. He could not call them, no he was not strong enough for that yet but he could feel the wolves and other critters, feel their tension and Apprehension. Lorian focused on those feelings while the others discussed, breathing deeply and ignoring the biting sensation at his skin.
But then suddenly they were gone, the last of their aura fleeting and snapping in the wind. Lorian turned to Ansgar as he finished speaking, eyes directed towards the mountain ranges. Lorian thought nothing of the fleeting animals, eyes turning towards the mountain to watch it as the others did. He admired the storm, the power and hunger in it. If he was anywhere other than standing right in the middle of it, he would have loved to watch the dark clouds roll over the horizon and encompass the rest of Onea. But then the storm was moving much faster towards them, and Lorian could hear the others yelling, shoving and pushing backwards. Oh...
Finally turning, Lorian shoved Iskalder in the shoulder, breath catching hard in his lungs as they both moved forwards through the snow, running alongside the others. He could barely think, could only feel the hot blood freezing in his veins as the thought of being suffocated by the snow rose in his mind. Not now, Lorian, definitely not now!
It felt like forever before they could finally slow down somewhat, snow still licking at their heels, a silent taunt. Lorian breathed hard, head whipping around to do his own headcount. His eyes jumped from horse to horse, suddenly confused when one was missing only to see the merchant laying in the snow, body shaking. He did not hesitate, merely lurched forward. "Nerys," he called. With the snow and cold as well as the fact that Cerys was very much pregnant, both medics would be needed right now. "Everyone else gather round, we need to block the wind" Lorian called over the wind, beginning to go over the mares injuries. He tsked, eyes worrying over her leg.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 28, 2017 14:21:37 GMT -6
NERYS
Synn's shout was enough to send Nerys moving again, in big leaps through the snow without the previous consideration on where to put her feet in order to better maintain her strength. She didn't really want to run towards the mountain, but had enough of a herd mentality to run along. Panic and blood both rang in her ears, and her breathing soon became ragged from the sudden strain in the cold air. Was it a stupid idea to run and get sweaty in this cold? Yes. Did they have other options? No.
After the initial rush, Nerys had her ear glued backwards towards Cerys. When she heard stumbling, she first turned to see, then slid to a stop. She was right there just after Lorian, assessing the situation. No, no, no.
She felt like her heart was rummaging its way out of her chest, but outside she appeared calm. They needed quick thinking, solid logic, not visible worrying.
Nerys knelt to see the leg better, and assessed Cerys' breathing and how the stomach tightened, and how often.
She took a rawhide bandage from her pouch, and handed it towards Lorian in the grasp of her emerald teke: "See if you can find a small knife, a stick, anything smooth and somewhat straight to support the leg."
She turned her gaze towards Cerys, trying to summon a somewhat assuring tone: "I know this is scary, but we'll get you through this."
Then her gaze sweeped across the others: "We need to get her on top of a pelt, at least. Carefully."
First, she pulled the pelt that Ansgar had given Cerys better over the mare, then laid down her own large pelt and positioned it so that hopefully they could lift or roll Cerys on top of it. Maybe even carry her to safety... This was a bad spot to be in. She was normally quite happy to follow orders and stay quiet, but she was an experienced Medic, and right now she was only concerned about the mare laying in the snow.
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Post by FaunaFawn on Dec 28, 2017 18:27:56 GMT -6
NemesisShe will burn down your kingdoms, herself with it, if it meant your ruin Everyone spoke this thoughts and views and Nemesis was glad they had decided as a 'group' to seek shelter. The mare rolled her eyes ever so slightly, who thought it took all of them to decided that yes shelter good plan. But Nemesis bite down on her tongue to hold back the sarcastic words she wanted to say. A crack and rumble was heard and Nemesis at first was curious about it felt a bit like thunder rumbling, yet not. A turn of the head made her hiss out bitterly. "For fucks sake." she nearly snarled at as Nerys spoke they had to move.
The group moved and tried to make the best. Racing against time and Nemesis scowled all the more as her tentacles gripped the hood of her cloak to ensure it would not fall off from her head. Fuck it all she thought with bitter detest. Why did it seem ever time they were ahead, they got pushed back beyond any belief? Nemesis kept her eyes on the horses around her, like hell she'd leave on of them behind. Had they not lost enough already?
Running was getitng tiring and she felt as if she had to keep moving, perhaps that was why, she nearly stumbled when Lorien called out for all to block the wind. What was happening? They had to keep moving, yet seeing Cerys on the ground and the two medics around, Nemesis felt the bile rise in the back of her throat. To hell. Nemesis nodded and moved forwards trying her best to block out the wind so the two medics could assist. "Whats going on with Cerys?" she asked as she tucked her head into the cloak as she took the force of the wind on her form. The winds frozen touch burning at any parts exposed to the wild.
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Post by hey-stardust on Dec 30, 2017 23:08:00 GMT -6
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CERYS | BLOODY FLANKS | MERCHANT
The devil's on your shoulder, the strangers in your head as if you don't remember, as if you can forget.
Cerys wished the mountain had buried her.
It would be better than this.
Though she did not look, she could feel the collective group’s gaze upon her, despising it. Shame burned deep from within, and she lifted her head from the snow in a shaky show of defiance. The medic’s words of reassurance only made her wonder who had been through this more often, her or them. Eyeing the pelt that the hippocampus laid beside her, she almost read Nerys’ thoughts, and was already fighting violently against the idea of being carried.
No way in hell.
Throwing her forelegs in front of her, her cloven hooves scrambled for purchase on the ice bank, splaying out instinctively. She managed to push herself upright, sitting like a dog, just as a contraction rippled across her side and caused her to flinch. Her hind leg rolled uselessly outwards, making her inhale sharply. Stupid, stupid…
She wasn’t sure what was going to hurt more at this point, what had already been, or what was still yet to come.
tl;dr: feel free to fight the pregnant lady. |
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Post by Deleted on Jan 2, 2018 11:43:28 GMT -6
The shifting snow that the mountain had shed was not as catastrophic as you believed. As your party struggles through the last of the landslide, straining through gigantic drifts of snow, you estimate that it would have been large enough to kill you, had you been less lucky, but not the gigantic avalanche it sounded like. The path before you is now made treacherous with collapsed mountainside, and continues to be peppered occasionally by stray streams of falling snow and ice. Worse yet, the snowstorm rages on.
Through the screen of silver, you are unsure where the road is. You are certain the mountain path came through this pass, but yet... The avalanche has dumped a chaotic sameness over the area around you. In the state of discombobulation following your mad dash for survival, it is hard to see where to go. Everything around you is little more than white and wind.
Except, you notice, for a muffled light on the mountainside. You couldn't see it before, but through the pass now it's barely visible. The mouth of a cave glows from the snowy landscape. A campfire? Out here?
Whoever they are, they seem more well-equipped than you. With your situation growing so dire, perhaps it is your best choice...
Should your group decide to investigate the camp, move into WF 509: All Who Wander |
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Post by Deleted on Jan 3, 2018 19:01:53 GMT -6
ansgar CRAWL ON MY BELLY TIL THE SUN GOES DOWN
I’LL NEVER WEAR YOUR BROKEN CROWN
It was over before it even started. He had been too caught up in his own head, pushing himself through the snow with only one thought racing through his mind being - survive. Lorian’s call made him turn on his hooves, and he felt the breath leave his lungs at the sight of a dark body laying in the snow. Ansgar raced back to them, panic swelling in his chest and rendering him unable to speak as he frantically watched over the medics. Stupid, stupid, stupid! He shouldn’t have brought her, fucking fuck fuck this was his fault- Cerys’ indignation snapped him out of his own internal crisis. Had be been a better husband (or a better being in general), he would have offered her more soothing words, something to calm her soul. Instead he snarled at her, panic flashing in his eyes and the overall severity of the situation heightening his emotions. “Do not be fucking difficult.”Ansgar swung his head from Nerys to Lorian and then to the rest of the group. As he did so, a faint flicker of light caught his eye and caused him to stop. His ear flattened against his head as he squinted, trying to make out what it could be. A campfire? The holster of his weapon itched his side, and he turned to look back at Cerys. They couldn’t stay out here. “Synn.” He motioned his head in the direction of the light, his gaze meeting hers knowingly. “Scout ahead, find out whose there- we’ll follow behind you.”He turned his attention to his brother and Nemesis as red teke enveloped the pelt below Cerys. “Help me carry her.”Finally he glanced at the medics, and then to his wife, voice harsh and nostrils flaring. “Keep her alive.”_________________
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Post by Sargeant-Knoxx on Jan 3, 2018 23:26:21 GMT -6
|S Y N N|
| Bloody-Flank Scout |
"Humanity is not Honor-"
The thunder of hooves, the crashing snow and debris, it was all drowned out by the bounding in her ears and labored breathing. The rugged scout's broad chest and flailing strides cleaved through the snow like her life depended on it. Which, it did. Just as the worst of it seemed to leave them with the terrain cupping away the last of the land-fall Synn came to a skidding halt and whirled, her hindquarters throwing a turn as she pivoted on her forelegs. Jade eyes flitted nervously over each face, and she saw Lorian quickly running back towards the ruin they'd just come from. Her heart sank.. and her breath hitched.
"No, no.." she hissed through clenched teeth before bounding through the snow in his direction, close on Nerys' heels. Arriving on the scene relief came secondhand when she saw Cerys very much alive there in the snow. Although, the pregnant mare's condition was less than ideal. The scout's brow burrowed and her ears laid flat as she gave the medics space and followed their direction, using her adequate bulk to form a block from the still raging storm.
Nemesis' inquiry was all but lost on the mare as she focused her energy on their surroundings, the focused look in her eyes had a hole-boring intensity that didn't seem ready to break. The situation was bringing up bitter memories, age old scars burning despite the frigid wind. Even Asngar's angered words were lost on Synn. Perhaps she would feel pity later, but now was not the time. Everything was lost to her in that moment as her eyes caught.. was it a trick of the wind? Perhaps, an arctic mirage.
No- it was there- a glow on the ridge, cradled in the fingers of the hillside. She'd already begun to gravitate and her lips had parted to ask if anyone saw the same when Ansgar gave the order. Their captain had seen it too. Worn gazes met for a moment, but there was a known flicker there that Synn understood even if the exchange was brief. Without a word the scout gave a nod and quickly cantered off through the snow, her teke itching and mind buzzing. Who would be out here in a storm? You either had to be a fool or desperate. And though Synn's judgment was not the best, she was no fool.
(Synn has now left Plot 508: Winter Wonderland)
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Post by manabuns on Jan 9, 2018 11:30:24 GMT -6
Iskalder IT FEELS LIKE I'M STUCK HERE SUSPENDED AT BEST UNDERWHELMING, WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME?
MY CONSCIOUS IS CALLING BUT WORLD ISN'T ALL IT'S CRACKED UP TO BE.
Next time, he was getting on that fucking boat even if Gidal booted his scarred ass for it.
An ironic statement, considering that the mountain threatened to swallow them beneath it's murderous sheet of snow and ice. There would be no seeing the rest of the Flanks, if they could not outrun nature's fury itself. His legs stung with a fresh wave of blistered irritation as he heaved his bulk at Lorian's insistent shove, crimson eyes glancing at the Medic with a look of disbelief and thinly veiled concern. Synn's cry was no more than a bleat swallowed by the arctic wind assaulting his ears, as he charged forward at his partner's side, with determination that bordered on spite.
He's not sure how far they have run, before they dared to slow somewhat. Beneath the warmth of his bear pelt, he can feel the stick of a thin sheen of sweat, his breaths heavy and full as he panted out into the frosty air, not sure if the way it froze his insides helped with each intake. When his own head finally turned, still stood beside the Medic, ready to do a headcount to make sure the others had followed.
He hadn't expected to see Cerys laying in the snow, leg shattered and sides heaving.
Iskalder's legs carried him without invitation at Lorian's words, turning his body sideways to better provide some shield against the onslaught. "You'll only make it worse." The raider added gruffly, eyes pointedly staring at the leg which lolled helplessly, an afterthought to Ansgar's equally unhelpful attempt at placating her.
Iskalder's attention didn't stick too long, Ansgar's sudden stop and stare caught it instead. Momentarily heat licked beneath his skin, an angry itch, one that expected bad news to accompany the already abysmal situation. His teke coiled around his sword instinctively, like a serpent ready to strike.
Anger was momentarily set aside for surprise, and then suspicion when he finally spied the campfire. Fortunate, but who bedded down in a storm? the wise of course, but out here, who was to say what or who the wise were.
The fire is back at a moments notice, as he moved at Ansgar's words with a brief nod. Standing opposite Cerys grounded frame and pulling his own pelt off to throw over her, as he simultaneously gripped the one beneath her. "When you're ready, brother."
(Iskalder has now left Plot 508: Winter Wonderland) 397 words | post 2 |
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