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Post by Queerly on Dec 15, 2017 10:08:50 GMT -6
Hello Starborn, and welcome to Plot 506: Nightcrawlers  Team Leaders: Pax and Dinah Participants: Reija, Satine, Tate, Dinah, Jimmu, Vigil, Sirin, Menial, Freya. 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'DAodh Prompt: A successful plan has you and your fellow smugglers leading a large group of rescued slaves through the sewers of Valore. Your senses are heightened by the danger of your task as you move silently through the dark tunnels and putrid water. Your unsavory work has brought these people so close to liberty. By morning, they will be free. The sound of splashing ahead strikes you with sudden fear, and a swing of your torch reveals the Vindicators, heading into the city. These terrorists have destroyed your home and made your work increasingly dangerous. You can't let them jeopardize this mission! Vagabond Prompt: Intel squeezed out of captive Chevaliers has bought the Vindicators unprecedented access to New Valore. With Aodh's defenders on high alert, every move is potentially fatal -- stealth will be essential as you head closer to the Labor Slave barracks. Once there, you will have a chance to free the enslaved forces that make up the backbone of Aodh's infrastructure, and topple your enemies. However, as Dinah and her Vindicators take to the sewer tunnels under the heart of the city, they have an unexpected encounter. Location: Sewer tunnels under Valore Time of Day: Night Current Weather: Cold, damp. Also stinky Leader is posted!
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Post by misttheelf on Dec 15, 2017 17:57:28 GMT -6
This path stank, that much was for certain... But it was the only shot they had at freeing these labor slaves. Freeing these... Then this wretched city of slavers wouldn't be able to stay as pretty as they would like, without their own effort. Perhaps then they'd be less inclined to make others into slaves? Ah, who was he kidding? Kaia only knew how many more they'd enslave if they came under threat of having to actually lift a hoof to work, even if it was to just pour a pot of tea. He plodded along behind the others, his ears pinned back as his thoughts ran. Hopefully, they'll be able to free more than a couple of the labor slaves. Perhaps Kaia would guide their hooves to get a dozen or more out? That would make the trek more than worth it.
The cold didn't bother him quite as much as the others, as with the onset of the winter months, his coat had grown thicker in the foothills of the mountain.
He huffed as he continued along, hoping for the remainder of the trek to continue being as uneventful as it had been so far.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 15, 2017 20:25:10 GMT -6
pax
and tulip & lilac, the pygmy dragons
Sad to say, Pax had grown accustomed to the stink pretty quickly. He found he could adapt to most anything.
The danger in Valore's palace had driven him underground, a transition Pax had made with surprising ease. It was always interesting to him how this city, with its eagerness to deify most anything with instant celebrity, could just as easily help someone disappear entirely. Six months ago, Pax had one of the most recognizable faces (one of two, it turned out) in Valore. Today, he was a sewer rat. No one ever looked at him twice.
His vanishment had gone off without a hitch. People were so busy mourning his lookalike Amadeus, no one had stopped to consider Pax. It had taken months for him to lean out of his paranoid hovel beneath the city, but once he did he found himself moving freely without question. Invisible again, just like he'd started. What a relief.
His work was easy after that. He'd built a home down here, memorized the greasy fingerprints of old waterlines on the limestone, navigated by the sound of the water. As they moved, Pax led the pack of smugglers through the network of tunnels with silent, domineering confidence. He didn't carry a torch, but occasionally one of the pygmy dragons orbiting him would blast a plume of flame long enough for him to read a maintenance sign.
The sound of splashing from the smugglers -- some of them really weren't used to getting dirty, he could tell by the way they stared at how his white legs were stained black -- and the stumbling, fatigued slaves echoed loudly through the sewer. He almost didn't hear the approaching party.
"Wait --" Pax said suddenly, throwing open his small wings to try and stop his companions, but it was too late. Their light had been spotted. He went rigid, and the already-tense dragon Tulip hissed from behind his tumbleweed of mane.
He squinted into the darkness. These weren't chevaliers. Whoever was here was almost as filthy as the smugglers, and heavy with supplies. "What are you doing here?" He demanded, his voice comically authoritative coming out of his tiny frame. 357 words | post 1 |
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Post by FaunaFawn on Dec 15, 2017 21:58:44 GMT -6
Vigil
if we don't retain our humanity somehow,
what will be left of us but hate?
How long has it been since he was back in this god forsaken city? Well he was in the sewers and oddly that was a step up from the life above. A life filled with pretty lies a way of living such a life that did not make them think twice of how this all had become. Their city built on the broken backs of slaves. How many equines died only to be know as a pet to those better off? Vigil sneered with disdain as he followed the group along the sewer tunnels. Vigil kept his golden mask on, refusing to let it fall from his face, gods help him if he was recognized here. The mere idea made his skin crawl and it was not because of the atmosphere.
Long ears twitched as the group marched long, was something ahead? Vigil was curious but gods who would be wandering the sewer, especially those in Aodh? Risk chipping a hoof? Getting a stench on them, that wasn't over sprayed perfume? Gods forbid. Vigil sneered once more, but he heard a voice surely he did. Suddenly others came into view, and Vigil was quick on defense. His head lowered and horn jutting out towards the strangers. They didnt look like regulars from above, but looks were deceiving.
Vigil spoke no words as he stared at the strangers, he'd allow someone else to speak, to either spin some grand lie, or be blunt and true. Either one would do, he thought.
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Post by hey-stardust on Dec 16, 2017 1:11:30 GMT -6
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SIRIN | VAGABOND | SOLDIER
It never goes the way that you planned,
success is a door that always slams.
I'm trying to break it,
I'm trying to break it.A permanent frown pulled at the corners of Sirin’s mouth as she followed her companions deep beneath Aodh's underbelly, the expression mirroring her internal disgust as they passed stagnant pools of waste. Her limited sight meant she was prone to step where others might have avoided, and as such, she was about ready to cleave her feathers clean off from where she stood; confident she would never rid herself of the smell otherwise.
Anxiety gnawed at her insides, and it only grew in intensity as they sought to reach the heart of the city. Though she did not show it, Sirin wanted nothing more than to be far from here, with a stiff drink in hand and the comfort of being blissfully unaware of responsibility for however long she could avoid it...
A call from a stranger, however, was quick to break her short reverie.
"What are you doing here?"
Sirin threw her head up in answer, trying to assess the sudden turn of events, but succeeded only in making contact with the wall, horn cracking loudly against slate and causing it to echo down the narrow pass.
Fuck.
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Post by houndflash on Dec 16, 2017 8:46:02 GMT -6
Tate-Aodh-Smuggler
Tate gave a small huff as he followed another Smuggler deeper into the tunnels as their group lead a small group of slaves towards their freedom. Generally, Tate would be one that remained on the top side, guiding slaves to the next safe house before this part, but due to some reason or another, Tate had been asked by his parents to assist escort this entourage to their next checkpoint, and without his twin too. The thought behind it was solid enough, but that didn't ease Tate's mind any. He didn't really get any names from anyone here, nor did he really want to, just in case everything went south.
Currently the pegasus leading the group, only used pygmy dragon fire every now and again to see their path, which was less light than Tate would've preferred in his dark, wet, and disgusting place. No matter how silent he tried to make his hooves, he continued walking into puddles of the gods only know what, more often than he would like to admit too. Suddenly, breaking Tate out of his thoughts of how terrible these sewers were, the leader flared out his wings signaling everyone to stop, one of the pygmy dragons with him hissed out.
Sounds of a group in front of them reached Tate's ears, and not for the first time in his life, he really wished he had a weapon for any sort.
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Post by liifa on Dec 17, 2017 9:01:37 GMT -6
Menial In the sewage tunnels all was quiet, all except for the animated pace, the almost rhythmic sounds of the splashing water followed by the faint thud of whatever lay beneath. Menial simply followed behind her companions, slow pace, head low, ears flat. She didn’t want to hear the rhythm, didn’t want to know what caused the thuds. All they could do was move one hoof in front of the other, continuing the pace, continuing the rhythm.
The only thing that made these horses familiar to her was their thuds, some loud, some gentle, some that could only be described as uneven or broken. They were all strangers to her, strangers that had gotten her out of this… this place, yet they already wanted her back there. The continuing rhythm a constant reminder of them inching closer. It was a strange feeling being under the city, almost humorous how something so rich and gradient could lay upon something so dirty and foul. However, it wasn’t surprising, the Vindicators always say Valore is built on dirty work, guess they were quite literal. They continued their march, thud after thud.
Then, the thuds stopped, the rhythm had seized. It’s sound replaced by another's pace, an unfamiliar one. Then a voice followed by a harrowing crack spreading throughout the tunnels. The painful awareness of the broken silence making it sound as if a blast had gone off, it’s tremor shaking her and leaving ears faintly ringing. Chevaliers was the first thing that came to mind, the thought gnawing into her marrow, unease taking root. If they had found them… No, no they couldn’t have. They would never wade in this muck, that’s impossible... right?
She managed to catch up and step forward from behind the others, getting a better look. Thankfully these were not Chevaliers, that much was certain. They wore no fancy armor or bejeweled swords, they were just as deep in sewage as they were, just as tense, wariness of capture in their eyes. She couldn’t help but stare at the curious scene. The band of dirty horses standing behind one small pegasi, seemingly mirroring the Vindicators tense reactions. Despite the lead horse’s small frame his stance would beg to differ, the others seemed to note it aswell for no one spoke. She took a few steps back, if not Chevaliers then who were they? No one spoke, someone had to. Slightly swaying where she stood, unease settling in once more, she shifted her eyes between the others. Someone had to but she wasn’t someone. Words: 433 |
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Post by PeculiarVixen on Dec 17, 2017 18:29:15 GMT -6
Freya|Vindicator
The sewers were. well, dark and dreary. Although the smell didn't bother her much, a life of someone who stays in the shadows is used to being in some not-so-desireable places. Freya trudged through the gunk and feces that lied beneath such a sickening city, sure it might look beautiful on the outside but not when you look closer and inspect the true lives of the equines who live here.
You see the abominable behavior these aristocrats display with pride, what is so grand about chaining a life to servitude and meaninglessness? These are the thoughts Freya has everytime she enters Aodh, Abruptly her thought process was broken by alarms sounding in her head. "Dinah, there's a group coming." Her first instinct is to tell her commander, was it not her duty to do so?
While the unknown equines approached, Vigil stood defensively as Freya continued to softly speak with Dinah "They're not chevaliers ma'am, but the Pegasus has two dragons..." She looked to her leader as the stallion questioned them before turning towards him and stepping slightly behind Vigil.
"That's a question both parties would like answered, as for us? Justice. Now that I have answered yours, Why are you here?"
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Post by songsofinfinity on Dec 19, 2017 15:13:15 GMT -6
Satine walked behind the former slaves down the twisting corridors of the Valorean catacombs, every nerve on edge. No matter how many times she did this, she still made sure to keep every sense alert for the slightest trace of danger. The lanternlight flickered around them, creating a circle of visibility outside of which was pitch darkness, extending outward and, every so often, seeming to advance towards them as if it wanted to swallow the light they carried and leave them stranded in the darkness, to wander the depths sightless.
She winced. Morbid thoughts would get her nowhere, and she needed to keep a calm head if they were to finish tonight's work without running into any trouble. Besides, Satine actually didn't mind the catacombs that much, for all their uncomfortable, otherworldly feel. They were the safest way to smuggle slaves out of the city, and they'd served her well for many years. That didn't mean she wasn't nervous, of course; she always prepared for the worst.
Still, that darkness... it seemed to swallow up the sounds the group made, taking them and throwing mocking echoes back in their faces in a pale imitation of life. The echoes were growing louder, and louder still, and at the same moment Pax threw up his wings Satine realized they weren't echoes at all.
The other group stopped a distance from them and Satine squinted, trying to make out how many horses they'd run into, and whether or not they were Chevaliers. Her heart rate, already uncomfortably high, sped up, and her tail twitched nervously, swishing through the water A part of her was irritated; it would take ages to wash out all the muck. Another part of her was amused that she would care about hygiene at a moment like this.
Pax challenged the newcomers, demanding to know their business, and Satine waited, breath held, for their answer. When it came, she slowly released her breath. Justice was not an ideal the chevaliers would mention. Not here. Not now.
Well, they knew who the strangers were not. That still left the question of who they were. Hopefully Pax would get answers out of them before explaining their business, if he explained at all. |
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Post by Jennycallie on Dec 19, 2017 23:52:42 GMT -6
Dinah
Paladin Sloppy, sloppy.
Even as Freya spoke, Dinah was registering the flicker of lights other than the hooded lanterns of her own party, but it was too late. Even if it hadn’t been, Sirin cracking her damned horns on the tunnel would have clenched it regardless.
You’re getting old, slow and foolish, she railed internally, even as Freya and the leader of the other group exchanged tense, hostile openings.
But... they haven’t moved to arrest us yet, have they? Dinah mused, head flung high and nostrils flared as she strained to place the others, through the miasma of sewage scents that weighed the air with a tangible, oppressive presence- no doubt a large factor in her failure to detect the others, or the others them, if their tense, startled postures were any indicator. As was usual on a raid, Dinah had provided her team with Invisibility-imbued necklaces, which would be more effective than normal in the dark, twisting tunnels. But she hoped nobody had tapped into them, yet- because she was more certain by the moment that the others were not Chevaliers.
Didn’t automatically make them less dangerous, though. Dinah took a quick step forwards, in front of the other Vindicators, and flung the hood on her lantern high, the better to flood the tunnel with light and assess the situation before reacting further. Dinah’s eyes slid over the “leader”, began to assess the others (all disheveled, all tense, some with the look of-) and then her eyes snapped back to the bristling pegasus.
For a moment, just one heart-freezing moment, she’d thought he was the late and unlamented King. None of Dinah’s informants had reported seeing a body, but if the boy King had faked his own death only to skulk about in the sewers, Dinah would turn herself in right then and there. And closer inspection revealed that this dingy sewer rat was not Amadeus, just similar in build and colour, give or take a coating of sewage.
Dinah stood still, but her mind was calculating rapidly. Running into hostiles had always been a possibility, if one to avoid, but here they were. The number of equines that seemed in any shape to match the Vindicators was small, an even match almost. Dinah’s lip lifted, slightly, and her glinting eyes fixed on the dirty pegasus again.
“None of your business,” she almost said, trusting in the dubious honor of criminals for both groups to look the other way. Almost said, except that a soft exhalation had followed Freya’s words. Dinahs gaze snapped to the mare who’d sighed, a sound of… relief. Dinah eyed her, then flicked her eyes over the group again. She hesitated only a moment, then tapped a hind hoof three times, sharply. Code, that told the Vindicators to watch, be wary. But not attack.
“Seems we’re not the only ones creeping through these tunnels on errands of…. A sensitive, nature,” she said cautiously to the cremello pegasus, watching him closely in the flickering lamplight. Her tone was bland, offering neither support nor condemnation as the words rattled off the damp walls.
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Post by Artistic Pineapple on Dec 21, 2017 16:33:22 GMT -6
Reija | Smuggler
The sewers weren't ideal, in the old mare's opinion, for leading such a large group to freedom. With a group this size,
exhausted ex-slaves didn't just slow one or two others down, they slowed everyone. Having done this for some number
of years now, Reija was well-versed in these matters. Instead of pacing along with the group near the middle or front,
the baroque mare took up the rear, a warm shadow with a stolen lantern to the stumbling and exhausted.
To combat the environment, tightly-woven braids arched along her graying neck and arched tailbone. Wraps on the
lower parts of her legs helped to combat the dank and rather-unsettling scent of the waste they trudged through.
A few of the slaves carried similar braids and wraps.
It was much easier to continue through the dank tunnels when you didn't have to worry about what may or may not be
sticking to your long tail. Bits of lemongrass woven into her mane acted as an uplifter and means of location as well.
She had been helping plan this mission from its near-infancy, if only she could have convinced them out of the sewers.
Ahead, she could spot the figure of Pax through the gloom.
She respected the cream pegasus very much, having seen him in the palace on more than one occasion of royal affair.
A creature of such luxury turned to a life of filth, he seemed almost comfortable trotting knee deep in sewage.
He was solemn, silent as death and a ghostly color in the dim light of the torches a few of them carried. Across his left
shoulder, the large scar he bore stood out from his coat.
Reija couldn't help but wonder what could have caused such an injury. It was far too oblong and deep for the slice of a
blade, but didn't resemble a burn, either. No matter what had caused it, the assassin had certainly missed his target the
first time. Perhaps if the young king would have been stronger ---
The thought broke mid-sentence as the old slave ambling beside her suddenly went down with a grunt and a splash.
Helping him back to his feet and offering support to his tired legs, Reija realized the party had come to a sudden halt.
From the rear of the group, she could just make out the faces of equines she didn't recognize.
"What are you doing here?"
Pax's voice, she knew. There seemed to be an exchange occurring between the parties, if only she could make out what
was happening. Having seen most Chevaliers, the unrecognized faces lit a spark of hope within her.
Maybe these weren't the enemy...
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Post by FaunaFawn on Dec 23, 2017 17:18:06 GMT -6
Vigil
if we don't retain our humanity somehow,
what will be left of us but hate?
The words of others seemed to be short and quick to the point. Something Vigil was thankful for in all honesty. The idea of having long talks or some grand speeches made the stallion almost verbally groan at such a prospect. Still he remained still, he could blend so well if not had been for his golden mask,any light reflecting off of it with ease.
Ears perked forwards on head as Dinah spoke a bit forward to the other strangers in the tunnel. Well, Vigil assumed if any where chevaliers they all would have been reprimanded by now. The hot hands proclaiming what they did was good for the king, good for aodh. The mere thought made him want to wretch right there on the spot.
So if they where not part of the guards and chevaliers, what exactly where these horses doing in such a large group? The thought made him curious, to the point he felt the urge to speak to say something. But perhaps it was best to leave that in the capable hands of his leader, the only reason he was back here in the wretched place. A place he thought he swore never to come back too. He assumed bad habits must be so terrible to break. With a faint shuffle of his hooves, Vigil remained silent as ever.
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Post by misttheelf on Dec 24, 2017 11:33:15 GMT -6
Others were in the sewers... Was the mission jeopardized by a rat? Dinah's order cleared his mind. And so, he watched the other group carefully, as the others ascertained that they weren't Chevaliers, ready to jump in should things escalate. But he hoped they didn't... He stayed silent as Dinah and the others questioned them, and as they were questioned in return. There wasn't much need for him to speak, as he was only a soldier. And the others had already asked all the questions he could think of for these strangers. But one thing was certain. Neither side trusted the other... Hopefully, there could be an accord reached between the two groups for a peaceful resolution... With no-one above being alerted. He shifted his weight slightly, looking at the large group ahead. It was not his place to question. He examined the cremello pegasus in front of him. The small stallion was clearly used to the stank of the sewers, even though his companions were not. And he hoped for a quiet resolution to this badly-timed meeting.
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Post by houndflash on Dec 24, 2017 16:45:06 GMT -6
Tate-Aodh-Smuggler Tate stared at the other party, just as ragtag as this one was, wondering through the sewers, just as they were, except for one big thing that the smuggler noticed. They were wondering into the city, instead of away from it. Which could mean a few things, realistically. They could be other smugglers returning from a successful event, which seemed unlikely, by their appearance. They could be any number of the street urchin that lived on the streets of Valore and were just attempting to get around without being seen, which, for such a large group also seemed unlikely. Or.... “Seems we’re not the only ones creeping through these tunnels on errands of…. A sensitive, nature,” "Vindicators..." The breathless mutter left Tate's mouth, almost as an exhale of surprise, taking a short step backwards. On the positive side, if Tate's suspicions were correct, it meant that these horses were not going to go to the nearest Chevalier and report everything that they had seen. On the negative.... These were the very horses that caused that mass chaos at the Crucible all that time ago. Had they come back to do something of similar nature? Were they going to destroy the new Crucible? To murder their new king? All of the questions running though Tate's mind at a million miles a minute, and yet, he was frozen to the spot. Post #2 Word Count 229 |
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Post by Deleted on Dec 29, 2017 9:42:42 GMT -6
 Pax i've got a hand, so i've got a fist, so i've got a plan Tate's audible realization flattened Pax's ears to his head. He scowled deeply, trudging closer to the Vindicators to get a better look. Tulip dutifully blew a small torch of flame above his head, illuminating the grim, ragged faces of the other party as the tunnel was briefly lit. It faded into darkness again while Pax grumbled, and looked back at the smugglers. They were all frozen. Figured.
With an exasperated expression, he gestured with his head and wing, urging the smugglers to come forward with him. They weren't about to be stopped by a bunch of dirty anarchists and their half-baked schemes.
"You have a lot of nerve coming back here," Pax said, swinging back to Dinah. His tone made it clear this wasn't a compliment. "Your Crucible attack set slave laws back centuries. It's harder than ever to get these people free." Pax himself had barely avoided the branding. He was freed by luck and greed and circumstance mere months before the mark of the dragon would have been burned into his skin. In the deepest pits of his guilt, dark parts of Pax wished he hadn't been spared. He wished he had some physical reminder of his bondage, something he could flash to these imbeciles like a badge.
"Every time you touch this city you hurt the people you think you're trying to save. What are you gonna do now? Blow up some Chevaliers? 'Send a message'?" His voice was snide as he walked up to Dinah's face, his forehead lingering well below her chin, so that he wouldn't be heard by Aodhians on the streets above. "Get out of Valore and let us do our job. You've killed enough people."
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Post by liifa on Dec 31, 2017 7:46:06 GMT -6
The dragon fire left a dim glow on the party’s damp coats, glistening her bloodied eye yet leaving the dry, scorched skin on her shoulder untouched. Menial looked down at the pegasi, blinking, eyebrows rising a notch. The sudden accusations causing her to lean slightly away from the others, looking at them puzzled, seeking guidance in their eyes. However, she knew there were no answers to be had nor questions to be asked. He had thrown the word around so effortlessly, as if the pit was just the common store around the corner. An itch along her spine settled in, a restlessness followed by shallow breaths and a clenched jaw. But she remained still, apart from tapping her hind hoof against the concrete floor. These horses were supposedly also on the mission of freeing slaves, yet the painstaking lack of charm didn’t help. The pegasi continued to approach the group, finishing his little speech with eyes locked on Dinah. If it was a challenge or mere intimidation was hard to say. The passion had rolled off the tongue. There was truth to what he had said, yet to a fault. A spring had come loose from the tightly winded jaw, a slip. ''I live.'' She said slowly, almost as if trying to convince herself, yet she continued to look at him with an icy gaze. He talked as if he’d know but of course he didn’t. He wouldn’t know, wouldn’t understand she no longer gnawed on steel causing her tongue to bleed. The shallow breaths turned sharp, the tapping to scraping, teeth grinding. Then there was a quick blink as she took a step back, now avoiding eye contact. Instead she locked her eyes on the mossy walls in an attempt to restrain herself, putting the spring back in its place. words: 301 |
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Post by Jennycallie on Jan 3, 2018 12:46:01 GMT -6
Dinah
Paladin
It seemed the filthy little cremello was the only equine of the group with a working tongue, and a sharp one at that. Dinah watched him with cool, flat eyes as he snarled at her, pushed into her space. A small sliver of her awareness remained on the whip coiled in its holder at her side, ready to draw if necessary, but the Paladin did not think it would be, for all the pegasus’ frothing. Desperation uncut his hot words, but it was not for him. It was an altruistic concern, and one Dinah recognized.
At his last words, Dinah’s eyes narrowed, just slightly, a minute tightening of the lined skin around her eyes, no more reaction than that to the revelation that he knew them and did not approve. The Paladin tilted her head slightly, having to look down to keep him squarely in her vision.
“Slave laws cannot be “set back” or progressed,” Dinah said coldly, pitching her voice for the entire tunnel and not just Pax. “They can only be eradicated. A slave is a slave, so long as any law exists saying so.” You aren’t the only one to have ever felt metal of a bit, she thought as she continued to lock gazes with the pegasus. Better to be hurt trying to free yourself than languish in chains of false safety. But she did not say it. It was irrelevant, as most verbal exchanges tended to be.
But one exchange, at least, had been useful: Pax had confirmed that his motley group of sewer rats was indeed made up of slaves, evidently fleeing the herd. Dinah shifted her eyes to them once more, her gaze sharpening before returning to Pax and utterly ignoring his last words.
“You are freeing these equines?” She asked, her voice sharp, intense. “What is your plan for getting them across the border, then, which is guarded even now?” The Vindicators had used Dinah’s invisibility-imbued gems to keep to the shadows. Dinah saw no such items on the dirty pegasus or any of his flock.
Something kindled in Dinah’s chest, a fierce, tremulous flame she did her best to dampen. She could not afford hope, not yet.
But she wanted to.
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Post by Artistic Pineapple on Jan 5, 2018 16:31:01 GMT -6
Reija | Smuggler
Ears flattened against the sides of her head in frustration as the old mare could only watch the exchange before her.
Despite his resilience, Pax was always a bit too... hotheaded. The last thing any of them wanted wanted right now
was a skirmish.
The harsh tone from the Vindicator leader as she questioned them didn't help calm anyone, especially the slaves so
thirsty for freedom.
All they have is hope right now, don't allow that flame to die...
"How is it that you got into these sewers, then?" She kept her tone relaxed, ignoring the questions flung
at the group. Stepping forward enough to join the other smugglers in the front, Reija positioned herself beside Pax.
She hoped the low light would be enough to disguise the graying hairs on her forehead and throat; the weakness
promised by age wasn't something to draw attention to in this moment.
Her blue eyes took them in: a masked unicorn with long ears, a massive silvery draft, a spotted unicorn with two
curling horns, a young-looking pinto, a blaze-faced Marwari, and an Appaloosa with a scowl. Clearly the leader of
this band.
Vindicators in Aodhian sewers, what a muse! No doubt as unhappy about it as anyone would be.
However, Reija couldn't ignore the amount of muscle of their group. These equines would be a tough adversary
if things got physical. Did their mission include more arson, more murder?
With so many years a smuggler, Reija had come to the understanding that some of the slaves she helped free
would eventually return to Aodh to seek revenge. It was something she couldn't hold against them. But this new
generation of Vindicators seemed so... radical.
Vigilantism had become terrorism, seemingly overnight. Where was the class?
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Post by hey-stardust on Jan 8, 2018 4:09:39 GMT -6
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SIRIN | VAGABOND | SOLDIER
It never goes the way that you planned,
success is a door that always slams.
I'm trying to break it,
I'm trying to break it.The longer the Vindicators stood near knee deep in others' waste, the more it became apparent they had not been deceived by their informant. The party before them was not uniform or encumbered with fine weaponry smithed by masters, it was coated with the exact same sludge they were.
Sirin closed her eyes instinctively at the pygmy dragon’s short burst of flame, irritated at the sudden illumination that flooded the tunnel and made shadows dance before her limited vision.
Even down here it seems Aodhians can’t resist a damn show…
The unicorn’s lip curled up and over her teeth at Pax’s mention of progressing slave laws, making no attempt to hide her contempt. Shit was shit no matter what it was gilded with, and she would happily burn at the stake over having the taste of an iron bit run across her tongue ever again.
She said nothing as Dinah tried to reach an understanding with the pegasus; resisting the urge to paw at the filth-ridden water below her feet, anxious to move again until Reija spoke, and she found herself bristling at the question.
They were wasting time.
“By the divine will of Ignacio, obviously.” She spat.
Smugglers might extend a hand to a select, chosen few, but they still reaped the benefits of this city, helping it to thrive as it had for years and would continue to do so without a devastating intervention.
“People are always going to die in the name of progress, but at least we’ve picked a side.” Sirin growled, dipping her horns towards Pax as he moved closer to their Paladin. dont hit me please JKSFSJ. |
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Post by FaunaFawn on Jan 8, 2018 10:01:32 GMT -6
Vigil
if we don't retain our humanity somehow,
what will be left of us but hate?
Vigil let a sneer out as they group talked, they were wasting time. Precious time and it seemed they much rather fight about slave laws and progression instead of acting. Talk was cheap, and Vigil was pretty sure the ragtag group looked as bad as it smelled down her in the sewers. They had labor slaves to free, the true ones that suffer the most in this damnable city. They die left and right without a blink of an eye and here they were wasting vital minutes.
Head snapped over to Sirin and nodded along with her as she spoke, he agreed fully with what she said. Though he was curious as to really why Dinah and this Pax seemed to be battling it out with wits. Lets, be done with this he frowned. "We are wasting precious time." he hissed out. His horn now angled towards the smugglers, his body in a defensive manner. Golden mask always hiding his eyes, gleamed as his lips curled up in a snarl. This was not what they had come for. Ears flickered up as he awaited the sign to keep them moving forwards, clearly this group wanted nothing to do with them and honestly Vigil felt the very same.
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Post by misttheelf on Jan 11, 2018 20:19:16 GMT -6
Jimmu had been quiet, listening to the others speak. But things were getting far to testy for comfort. Any noise that came from a clash would surely draw unwanted attention to both parties. A thought, that he decided to bring up. "I agree with my companion that we are all wasting time with this confrontation. And should we clash here - Which I am almost certain none of us want." He glanced at the other Vindicators, frowning. With a sigh, he shifted his weight. "To me, it matters not how the slaves are freed, just that they are freed. Now, how about both of our groups carry on our own ways, and not bother each other?" He asked, shifting his weight, pointedly keeping his body relaxed. All the smugglers who they had encountered were young... Oh, how he hated the thought of having to fight younger horses. Jimmu did not want a fight this night... A quiet mission. In and out. That was what he assumed that everyone wanted.
He looked at Dinah. "Shall we continue to those barracks?"
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Post by songsofinfinity on Jan 12, 2018 0:40:48 GMT -6
Satine listened to the conversation in silence as tensions rose. This was not how this night should be going, but here they were. At least it wasn't Chevaliers as she'd feared, praise Ignacio. Not that Vindicators were any better, and this seemed an obstinate lot. The appaloosa mare didn't want trouble, but as for the rest? Satine couldn't tell.
She splashed forward as things reached a peak. Harsh words flew back and forth, and for a long moment Satine was sure a fight would break out. How had things devolved so quickly? This was ridiculous. Reija's question sped her up, though. How had these Vindicators gotten into the tunnels? More importantly, could the smugglers use the same way to get out? She had to ask. Hopefully it would distract them, give them common ground long enough that the groups could move on and focus on their respective goals again.
"Reija's right. How did you get down here? And can we get out the same way? Not that we didn't have a plan, of course, but if your way is safer I think we'd all rather try it. What do you say? Care to share?" Hopefully this wouldn't make things worse. It very well might, but these were still Vindicators. If they claimed to care about saving slaves, they would help get them out of the city. |
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Post by Artistic Pineapple on Jan 12, 2018 11:06:41 GMT -6
Reija | Smug(gler)
Old ears pricked at the quip of the unicorn. "By the divine will of Ingnacio, obviously."Ooh, that one has spirit, Reija decided with a smirk. Clearly passionate about what they were doing, the dark mare guessed at a history of slavery had driven the mare to become what she now was.
Reija chose not to respond verbally, hoping that a lull would allow the aggravation to ease in both parties. Instead, she nodded in the unicorn's direction, believing in the power of the gods less now than ever. But the tensions continued to rise, especially when the masked unicorn turned toward them with such an aggressive stance, hissing about their wasting of time. Old joints argued as she grew stiff so suddenly. The non-verbal threat was somehow more unnerving coming from a horse with a mask in place of his face. Any skirmish down here would surly alert anyone walking on the streets above.
It was true, they didn't have all night... but what if this meeting happened for a reason?
Not the will of a god, not by far. But what if by fate? The grin on her lips turned to a knowing smile as The Sparrow spoke. Satine Creed, recognized as the unicorn mare with the short horn, had taken up the back of their group along with Reija. Though they had spoken little before this mission, the red bay had a gentle soul and keen, blue eyes. "Care to share?"With tensions currently so high, the old mare wondered if the Vindicators would oblige. After all, they weren't the most polite group of equines. But something struck a chord as she pieced the conversation together. The Vindicators were heading to the slave barracks. Was it possible that the labor slaves they sought to free were already freed? Were they the same large group that now stood behind the line of Aodhian smugglers? "Before you do," Reija spoke slowly, levely, "Would you care to tell just which slaves you planned to free? Perhaps there's a chance we've already secured freedom for those you planned to rescue..." Post 3 | 355 Words |
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Post by houndflash on Jan 13, 2018 12:04:33 GMT -6
Tate-Aodh-Smuggler
Tate remained slightly to the side of Pax, continuing to stare at the Vindicators. The mare seemed to be the leader of this patrol, if the way that she spoke was any indication. But that hardly eased Tate's fears of what these horses could do if let loose in the city. The destruction of the Crucible made it harder for smugglers all over Aodh to sneak slaves out, and it forced Tate and his family to only have a max two runs a year as opposed to prior when they could smuggle horses outside the border 5 or 6 times within the year, using the library as the final stop before the outside world. These Vagabonds may have slaves' "best interests" in mind, but they were doing a terrible job of actually doing it.
The unicorn tensed up when one of them mentioned they were in route to the barracks, while one of his fellow smugglers stated that they must've been going to the slave barracks, a fearful thought entered Tate's mind that he hoped was just what his twin called his overactive imagination. They couldn't, wouldn't, attempt to attack the Chevalier barracks, right? That would cause too much attention to the Vindicators, and (hopefully) wasn't their style. Tate bit his lip down, not wanting to bring up his new fear, while keeping an ear and eye on the Vindicators, hoping that these slaves were the ones they had been hoping to free. Honestly that would make their current job so much easier, and it would give a solution to the issue of where the slaves went next, besides the forged papers that they held that might be able to get them to Serora.
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Post by Jennycallie on Jan 19, 2018 20:46:20 GMT -6
Dinah
Paladin
Dinah’s face remained impassive, if tense, but as she felt Sirin’s shift at her side, felt the latent violence stir beneath the mare’s skin, Dinah shifted her weight, just slightly. Enough to rest a feather-light touch, hip to hip. Easy, the gesture said. Time was too short, and the stakes too high, for a confrontation. Vigil and Jimmu clearly agreed, voicing their concerns, but Dinah’s eyes were scanning the group of Smugglers- for they could be none else- as words were exchanged. She witnessed the multiple reactions to Jimmu’s words, and felt that emotion flare again, that treacherous hope.
Citrine eyes glittered in the lantern light as Santine splashed forward, and Dinah idly hoped Sirin wouldn’t threaten the newcomer. As Satine spoke, Dinah finally shifted her gaze back to Pax, ignoring the stallion’s obvious irritation with Sirin.
“Yes,” the Paladin said quietly, in reply to Satine and Reija but looking straight at Pax, the one she knew needed the most convincing, “we will share. I think we can help each other this night.” And maybe many more nights. As many nights as it took, or until the night finally took her. A matter not of if, but when. Dinah was unbothered by the notion. To die while freeing others from subjugation was a good death. And I'll finally see Magdalene again. Her eyes flashed again in the half-light.
“We had information from an inside source that a group largely from the east city might need…. Assistance, getting across the border.” Dinah certainly wasn’t going to name her sources, but her eyes stayed steady on Pax, unflinching, remote, full of promise. We are here to help. Our enemy is the same.
Post 3 | 289 words
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Post by hey-stardust on Jan 21, 2018 11:31:38 GMT -6
♙
3 | 181
SIRIN | VAGABOND | SOLDIER
It never goes the way that you planned,
success is a door that always slams.
I'm trying to break it,
I'm trying to break it.Sirin raised her head at Dinah’s subtle touch, reluctantly backing down from the perceived threat; though her gaze still remained locked upon the grimy teenager, blue eyes burning and daring him to make a move.
She knew it would be foolish to instigate an outright brawl here and now, but that didn't stop her from thinking about it.
The unicorn remained passive at her Paladin’s side, one ear turned towards the mare as she attempted to diffuse the situation by placating the smugglers’ fears. At the mention of sharing Sirin’s jaw tightened, wary of spreading their already sparse resources thin.
With Dinah’s insistence however, she exhaled loudly and flicked open one of her saddlebags with a practiced hand, studiously procuring several stones that lay within. They too, had been imbued with the Paladin’s blessing, meant for those they had intended to liberate.
Surrounding the stones with the soft blue light from her teke, she lifted them high above Pax, proffering them to Reija and Satine. “These are imbued with invisibility, use them as you will.”
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Post by Deleted on Jan 21, 2018 15:58:25 GMT -6
Pax i've gotta get a new bell to ring Pax moved his jaw deliberately, his suspicious gaze lingering on the Paladin. When the unicorn at her side spoke, lowering her horns in a silent threat, Pax sneered. He shifted his weight in his soles, as if planning to answer the challenge, but his momentum was dashed by Reija's sensible voice. As always, he was soothed by the older Smuggler's experience, and though he kept his hackles raised, he settled again.
Tulip, from where she clung to his matted crest, snarled silently in Sirin's direction, her pencil tongue curling. Pax didn't chastise her.
He was reluctantly responsive to Dinah's shift in direction, watching sullenly as Reija and Satine dealt with the Vindicators, but swallowing his protests. "Your actions in Valore raise security," he began again, calmly. "We share a goal, but ... Vindicators can't move slaves in the city like we can. When you act here... The chevaliers make it even harder."
He passed his eyes to Tate, Satine, and the others, thinking quickly. "If we can get people out of Valore, can you get them the rest of the way?" It was an arrangement he thought might suit their strengths. The Vindicators were phantasmal, invisible and untraceable as long as they existed outside of Eithne, but the Smugglers had unique passage in Valore. Their tunnels were a secret city, one the Vindicators hadn't mastered.
"Let's not make each other's lives harder. If we want to do the same thing, then let's do it." 243 words | post 3 |
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Post by songsofinfinity on Jan 22, 2018 14:03:57 GMT -6
The lead Vindicator mare spoke and for a moment Satine was worried. Then came the offer of help, and she let out a long breath. It has looked like this thing was going to come to blows, and while Satine didn't mind a fight, this would have been arguably the worst possible time.
When the invisibility necklaces were offered Satine took one gratefully, then passed it on to one of the slaves. She was unlikely to be arrested if no one could see the escaping slaves with her. They needed them far more than she did.
Pax spoke, and thankfully the boy had come to his senses. Whatever quibbles Satine had with the Vindicators, now would not have been the time to argue about their differences in method. She nodded in approval at his words. The kid was right for sure, and if they could use this to both keep Vindicators out of the city and ensure that slaves would have a way out of Aodh than this night would be one of the most productive Satine had had in years. Excellent.
"If we want to do the same thing, let's do it." If Satine had been anywhere else she would have applauded at that. The Vindicators were terrorists, but they had the same goals, and if the smugglers could use that to help slaves escape, then Satine had no objections at all to an alliance. |
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Post by FaunaFawn on Jan 22, 2018 19:05:19 GMT -6
Vigil
if we don't retain our humanity somehow,
what will be left of us but hate?
Remaining alert Vigil watched them and he listened as Dinah finally spoke. Time was of the essence and he worried for those that could not be saved, would they be alive to be saved the next time? The mission was clear, but to see them was a bump in the road. Vigil did not want to work with them to be frank.
Yet there was something appealing of the idea of not having to step hoof much into Aodh and still be able to help free those Aodh has done wrong too. Long ears twitched as the ring leader of this group spoke out and he found himself nodding slightly.
"We can take them the rest of the way." Vigil remarked, he didnt care if he was alone in getting them out if the others wanted to get the rest. Vigil had no desire to step into this cursed city he once called home. Vigil was eager to get moving, to assure someone gets out of this wretched city. He looked to these stranger and he wondered had he known them before in life? Perhaps, perhaps not he thought with distaste. It was best he knew none of them at all.
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Post by Artistic Pineapple on Jan 23, 2018 14:43:51 GMT -6
Reija | Smuggler
The spark of hope from the change of pace in the conversation flickered brightly inside the dark mare.
Her teke grasped the imbued stones gently, turning them over in careful and curious inspection, as a knowing
smile curved the corner of her lips upward.
It had been the correct choice to trust Sirin.
She nodded in the direction of the unicorn mare, a silent Thank You while the others conversed to show her
appreciation. She carefully handed them to the slaves around her, ensuring everyone could have an imbued
stone for themselves. Within their band of freed slaves, a few would suddenly disappear and then reappear
as they tested the stones. The atmosphere within the dank tunnels began to blossom with cautious optimism.
Their hope has returned, the old mare thought.
"Better you get going then, night won't hang around forever," Reija indicated softly in the direction
of the masked unicorn. "Please, take care of them." Her plea sounded more desperate than intended, but
she didn't linger on it. Her eyes rippled from one Vindicator to the next, thanking them all silently with a nod.
With a gentle turn, Reija stepped out of the conversation and began to quietly address the freed slaves in their
band, one by one.
She had learned all their names in the short span of time they had spent helping them escape, and wished them
all certain profits and good wills. Nuzzling the young ones and brushing her muzzle against the others, she made
her way to the back of the band once more. Their hope had grown so much stronger now, she could feel it.
Some of them would lead humble lives in the countryside, and others, Reija knew, would become Vindicators
themselves. Such was the way such things worked.
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