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Post by Queerly on Dec 15, 2017 10:28:14 GMT -6
Hello Starborn, and welcome to Plot 512: South Team Leader: Liri and Bates Participants: Alvane, Beyond, Fox, Gulliver, Icabod, Nikolas, Rylan, Uther, Wulff, Ithran, Eshana Please keep the following in mind!- Posts must be a minimum of 175 words. There is no maximum!- No strict order is enforced, but there must be at least two posts between your own character's.- No god-moding or reading characters' minds (unless your pony is a literal telepath, anyway)
- Always get consent before harming another character!- Your team is precious. Try to interact with everyone. <3- Have fun! Even if your pony isn't. 8'DPrompt: With war imminent, your allies are more important than ever. On a joint mission between Aodhian Chevaliers and War Forged Raiders, you journey south into Sirith after assembling at the rendezvous. Your particular styles of combat and organization are challenging to coordinate. Better get them straight before heading to Sedo! Disguised as a Raider and a Chevalier, two Vindicators slip into the gathering; using their skills as spies and the knowledge of their respective homelands, they hope to gather information on the military movements of Aodh and War-Forged, and later escape with it under the cover of darkness. Location: Sirith Border Time of Day: Evening Current Weather: Clear, Cold Leader is posted!
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Post by Queerly on Dec 15, 2017 10:51:42 GMT -6
Liri was vey out of place. Granted, she was leaving her home for the second time this year but that wasn’t the biggest issue at the moment. The odd thing is, she never thought she’d find herself in a war band, heading for a place she had never seen with people she’d never met before. Actually, she was surrounded by people she had never talked to before, and considering they were all warriors, they were pretty hard to talk to in the first place. They were all so intimidating, especially to her. She figured she was one of the shortest of the group, if not the only one who wasn’t a giant.
She thought she had seen the tallest that the war party had to offer until the War-Forged showed up. They were even taller, and much harder to avoid. Literally mountains, they were. Every time she passed one of them she felt like a little mouse in their presence, and it didn’t help that she had to dodge them every time they moved. Good thing she had force fields, otherwise she would have been squished flat before they even got to Sirith.
Somehow, they were there though, despite all the new things that she had seen and experienced, and all the new people she decided to avoid. It was worth it, to see the rolling green hills go on forever was really breathtaking. Maybe if she had developed her artistic skills more, she could maybe come close to capturing the feeling of seeing this place.
She was probably gaping at the sight but she didn’t care. Let them stare. Not like they could do anything about it anyways.
WC: 279
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Post by Callousal on Dec 15, 2017 19:23:40 GMT -6
 tagged: Liri. Mercury. 347 words The first time Hira had spoken to him about war, Bates had received the information with a formal nod of his head, his visage perpetually molded into a sullen glare. Though he would never admit it, a twinge of anxiety flared in the pit of his stomach at the thought. His would be enthusiasm for battle was thoroughly overshadowed by the instinct to provide for and protect his only daughter. He could no longer be as careless as he once was, for he was now responsible for the well-being of his family and representation of his herd.
The small clutch of Forged individuals that accompanied him to Sirith were definitely not who he expected to lead into the battlefield, though he was confident in his Warlord's choices and so, in turn, their capabilities. Besides, any additional assistance in the salience of war should never be taken for granted.
Personally, Bates had no quarrel with the people of Serora -hell, he wasn't aware of their existence until he had been selected to aid in the attack-, but the alliance between the Forged and Aodh had called Hira to assist their trading partner in the feud, and she clearly had faith that he would be a valuable asset to the war effort.
They had successfully made the day’s trek to the congregation agreed upon by both parties, meeting up with their fellow comrades and eventually re-routing to Sedo. The group of Chevaliers that now led the way were dwarfed by the giants from up North, and Bates found himself amused that the warriors seemed... so small and delicate in comparison to his people. |
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Post by Deleted on Dec 15, 2017 21:16:08 GMT -6
The medic trudged along in the back of the group, saddle bags full of as much medical supplies as he could carry.. and then some. They were going into unknown land with their allies, and Gulliver had no idea how long they would be there. The last thing he wanted was to run out of supplies, especially since he was being sent to be the group's medic. While he had absolutely no intention on actually fighting, the stallion did pack his crossbow as a means of self defense. His raider days were long behind him, and to be quite honest, he didnt give a damn about aiding the "allies." Their allies had gotten themselves into this mess, they should be able to get themselves out. Why nations felt the need to get into the business of others, Gulliver would never know. It sure would be easier if everyone would keep to themselves, but such was not their nature.
A sigh left his lips at the thought. his red eyes rolling as he shook his head, his thick mane bouncing against his neck. Oh well, he had not choice in the matter anyways. He took the time to examine his party, his brow narrowing as he realized he didnt know anyone's names. This wasnt a surprise by any means; he didnt care to know the names of those that he would probably never see again. But that was the past, and these were his new temporary team mates. He would have to pay attention and try to put names to faces eventually.
It wasnt until they met up with the Aodhians that Gulliver found himself smirking in amusement. While he certainly wasnt the largest horse out there, these ones sure were small. Maybe he had been too used to the mountains of horses in War-Forged, but he felt like he was being led by a bunch of foals.
His tail flicking behind him, the medic kept to himself, ears flicking whenever someone mumbled a word. Luckily, it seemed that the others had decided to stay relatively quiet for the moment.
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Post by ThatDenver on Dec 15, 2017 22:06:15 GMT -6
NIKOLAS
Nikolas was not exactly enthusiastic to be here, but he was too much of a good soldier to disagree with direct orders.
It wasn’t so much that he was against traveling – he loved to travel, in fact, and had been this far out before today. But right at this moment, Nikolas would have preferred to have been home with his sister. A sister who was still figuring out how to even live in New Valore, or recover from a sudden displacement caused by a volcano eruption.
Oh well. He’d just have to trust that Liliai would figure things out on her own while he was gone. Surely it wouldn’t take very long for them to beat the sand folk into submission.
Nikolas gave their War Forged allies a long look. It was not like he hadn’t seen Raiders before, but while they were big and certainly strong looking, he was not entirely comforted by their presence. Alliance or not, War Forged were War Forged, angry howling barbarians the size of mountains. To him, they were an unpredictable element in this plan. Nikolas trusted his fellow soldiers as much as he trusted anyone. Knew that they would follow orders, keep tidy battle lines and could be trusted to provide aid when needed. War Forged? He had no idea what to expect of them, or if he should expect anything at all.
Being one of the larger and stockier among the band of Chevaliers sent on this mission, Nikolas had decided to keep close to the spotty coated recruit. Fresh out of training and already being sent to war, what a treat. Nikolas smirked dryly to himself, and looked over to the smaller chevalier.
“Did you piss someone off, or did you ask to be here?”, he asked her, his voice quiet and calm, friendly even.
Word count: 304
Post #1
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Post by Maelorom on Dec 16, 2017 3:18:44 GMT -6
Beyond//:
Beyond walked a small distance from the group, keeping about a metre between her flanks and the thick of the pack at all times. This was mainly to maintain her own comfort, she had no particular want to be boxed in by a group of strange warriors. She was still a little over-cautious after the battle that had left her alone in the middle of Onea with the only familiar faces long-gone. She glanced at the group again, she didn't recognise any faces among them, not even the chevaliers. A soft snort of dissmissal escaped her.
Strangely she had a little more faith in the rugged War-forged horses than the little chevalier that looked like she was fresh out of training who was leading them. That mare was something that concerned her, but it was not her place to question the commander' say decisions. She turned her attention back to the earth beneath her hooves that she knew very well to be unstable and riddled with caverns and crevasses. It made her a little nervous that there was a chance the ground could crumble beneath her, especially with a weak leg. The gold bracers on her legs hid the tightly bandaged wound on her left shin from her battle with the vindicators. The wound had left her leg weak from infection, she was not exactly talented at treating wounds and was pretty sure it was too late for the medic to help, not that she was going to ask anyone for help anyway God forbid. unfortunately it had left her a tiny bit worried about whether she would heal in time. Luckily it seemed to be doing okay, well okay in her opinion anyway.
Her gaze returned to the War-forged horses, some of them were huge, and some a little small. It was easy to determine their rank by their height. Honestly she enjoyed the presence of the massive raiders, she couldn't wait to see the naive, sand-dwelling ponies faces when faced with this. The War-forged were the image of 'Tough as nails', Beyond wished there were a few more chavaliers like that. No one would ever need to be harmed, they would be sent running just by the sight of them. She smiled a little. But then again she enjoyed giving criminals a good punishing too much to let them off that easily. Her jaw clenched for a moment, maybe it would be a good idea to know her allies at least a little before fighting beside them. She turned her sharp red eyes on the closest raider, a seal bay the size of a mountain who she had not seen even smirk, let alone smile yet. "Have you visited Serora before?" she asked him offhandedly despite a flutter of nerves at his intimidating appearance, "or fought anywhere outside of Onea for that matter?". Genuinely she wondered how the horses from the icy mountains were planning to cope with desert combat, not that she had plenty of experience with it either.
post: #1
WC: 503
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Post by NovelNoctuary on Dec 16, 2017 15:32:33 GMT -6
RYLAN
War Forged // Raider // 20hh
War.
The word put a bitter taste in Rylan's mouth, like its letters were all fire and ash on his tongue. When War Lord Hira had first requested his assistance in the conflict between Aodh and Sedo, he had thought - for a single, crystalline moment, his entire world suspended like an insect in amber - that he would say no. Muscles locked tight beneath a pelt like a winter storm, disparate eyes cold and sharp as ice, blocky face impassive, he had felt the dismissal forming in his throat and wanted so badly to let it fill the silence between them -- and then he had met Hira's gaze, and the faith visible in that world-weary stare had ignited a fierce delight in his soul that warmed him all the way through to his flesh and bones. Yes, he had responded, deeply touched by her belief. Yes, I will go.
And so he had gone, leaving everyone and everything that he had ever known or loved behind.
Now, ambling behind a rather large collection of colleagues and allies, he found himself torn between regret and the desire to prove to his War Lord that her trust had not been misplaced. Crowds made him so incredibly uncomfortable. It was a combination of his size, which drove him into a state of obsessive cautiousness around others (lest he step on one of his smaller comrades), and of his inadequacy in all aspects of social interaction. He didn't have the guts to start a conversation, or the skill to carry one out. That was why he had taken to the back of the pack, so to speak; he could see over the heads of those before him, which meant that he felt secure in his position, and he was not near enough anyone to find himself trapped in aimless chitchat. Of course, he knew that he should introduce himself to one of his newfound affiliates. He recognized the folk from War Forged, but he had never been beyond Onea's borders and the Chevaliers were distinctly alien to him. Even the dainty way they walked was odd. They looked like faeries flitting about the crevice-filled meadow, and he was truly afraid that he would step on someone. Apprehension squeezed at his lungs. He felt like a spindly-legged colt about to give his crush a bouquet of hard-won mountain flowers, and bit anxiously at the inside of his cheek. There was no doubt that his people and the Aodhians would need to achieve some semblance of cohesion if they were to succeed in this... this mission. They fought differently, they thought differently, they behaved differently, and there was nothing likelier to make their task a failure than an inability to cooperate. Conversation would be important in the days to come.
Swallowing thickly, Rylan moved in closer to the lass before him. She was not quite so small as some of the others, a delicate but well-built mare who possessed a rosy pink coat and a smooth teal horn. Something about her demeanor put the worst of Rylan's fears at ease. She seemed to feel as out of place as he did, her eyes bright with mistrustful intelligence. A long, whiplike tail swished at her whitewashed hocks. "Greetings," Rylan began, striking at the grass (what a novel concept, this thick, tall grass; it tickled at his pasterns in a way that made him itchy) underhoof with a sound that reverberated like the peal of thunder. "I am Eiriksso -- Rylan. I am Rylan." Did his given name sound friendlier than 'Eiriksson, son of Eirik'? Probably. Hopefully. "A Raider from the North."
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Ry's (trying) to chat with the lovely Eshana! |
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Post by Superior-Caesar on Dec 16, 2017 16:06:41 GMT -6
Icabod ~ RaiderIcabod trudged along, just behind Bates. He was focused on everything around them more so than the journey ahead. His blessing allowed him to finally feel the true beauty of nature on this long travel. He hadn't been to Sedo in at least ten years, this time he was going to enjoy every moment of it. Well, save for the war part. Maybe, just maybe, they wouldn't need to fight anyone. That wasn't to say he was unprepared, though. His waraxe was strapped tightly to his side and he had shaved all his thick fur, save for his beard. The raider would not be caught unprepared, especially with the help of his tremor sense.
Icabod glanced around for a brief moment. He appreciated having a few familiar faces with him. This would be his first job done with his cousin. He also knew Fox and Bates a little bit. He also recognized one or two of the chevaliers from random trips into Aodh, guarding a travelling merchant. But, he didn't really know any of them. Despite that fact, Icabod was sure this travel wouldn't be so bad. He simply needed to think of the positives. They all seemed like competent traveling companions and the journey itself would be gorgeous. Besides, he would be doing a service to his herd.
Icabod was pulled from his thoughts by the question from one of the chevaliers. She was a pretty pinto mare asking another if they'd been to Sedo before. Icabod couldn't help but interject. "I'v been there before. It's not the prettiest place and the heat is murderous, but it's pretty cool. If things don't end up getting violent, maybe we can enjoy the visit," the raider smiled slightly in her direction.
Word Count: 290
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Post by Maelorom on Dec 16, 2017 21:09:43 GMT -6
Beyond//:
It was another raider who answered her query, and with a surprising tone of interest in the place. She nodded in agreement. She had to agree with him that the heat was indeed murderous out there, but it was the endless sand that had gotten to her on her visit. It was always up your nose or in your eyes and never solid under-hoof, an absolute nightmare. No wonder there were so many Pegasus when the ground was so awful to walk on. She slowed her pace for a moment and drifted back a little to see the new speaker better. “It’s good to know someone else has been out there, I was a little concerned that none of you raiders were prepared for the desert” She replied, not that she was sure any of the other chevaliers were either.
On closer inspection she noticed bay roan stallion’s coat had been shaved. “But you obviously have a good idea of what we’re in for” she indicated to his shaven coat with an approving nod and a small smile “I hope your comrades do to”. She was lucky enough to have a naturally short and mainly pale coat, but she had tied up her long mane and tail anyway to keep them out of the way and allow the cool evening air to wash across her. Her gold armour kept her neck, chest and shoulders out of the sun for now but she suspected as they entered Serora it would end up being filled with hot sand and heat up under the desert sun like freshly wrought steel.
Beyond considered the last part of the raiders reply to her question. She wasn’t sure she would like a peaceful conclusion to the conflict. It would leave her feeling a bit useless if she didn’t get a chance to serve her herd. And she certainly wouldn’t enjoy the visit, she’d made a few enemies last time if she remembered correctly. “While I have to admit the place is interesting I don’t think I’ll be able to end up enjoying the visit,” she continued with a shrug, turning her attention to the stallion. “At least not after my last meeting with the Serorans” she smiled at the memory of facing down the sultan as one of emmisary Iscah’s bodyguards. There was no way the Serorans would ever welcome her in again, especially as long as she carried her large golden long sword, of which the pommel was Aodh’s sigil. She shifted its sheath slightly into a more comfortable position, it was quite a weight to carry but luckily she was no small equine. “Oh and the name’s Beyond,”
Post: #2
WC: 444
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Post by foreignblackjack on Dec 16, 2017 22:13:56 GMT -6
Wulff
Wulff wasn't overly enthuised by the trip, and even less so about the raiders joining them, but in the end it hardly mattered to him. None of this really bothered him. He eyed over everyone as he walked at the back of the group. He had no intentions of getting himself into a position where he would have to talk or join in a conversation with someone. It was too much effort in his eyes to strike up a conversation that ultimately would end up having nothing to do with their assigned mission. That said, if he had to speak to someone, he would. The whole idea of an impending war left a sour taste in his mouth.
He listened to the others have small talks amongst each other, and almost felt inclined to speak up but he held his tongue. He wasn't here to partake in idle chatter. He looked over the assembled once again, trying to remember faces and voices so that he could tell them apart. After all, these horses - strangers as they were to him - were still working with them.
Word Count: 185
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Post by songsofinfinity on Dec 17, 2017 0:33:37 GMT -6
w
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"A wise man fears three things: the sea at storm, a night with no moon, and the anger of a gentle man."
__________________________________I T H R A N
Vagabond | Vindicator
Ithran ducked his head as he listened to the conversation of the other Raiders. This whole situation was terrifying. He didn't want war, and he was pretty sure most of the Oneans shared his opinion, though he'd held his tongue through the trip in an attempt to avoid standing out.
He'd joined their party near the Onean-Eithnian border, claiming to be a Raider named Redcrosse, sent by Hera for backup. He'd let his tail grow long and had cropped his mane far shorter than he usually kept it, along with dying his hair so he appeared to be a scruffy seal bay with white socks. He'd kept the broad blaze down his face, and his eyes were still their usual bright blue, as he hadn't yet found a reliable way to change their color. It still felt strange to be playing the role, as if he was wearing someone else's skin and they would come back to claim it any second.
Redcrosse was older than Ithran by nearly a decade, and had a much darker outlook on life. He avoided unnecessary conversation, but had a penchant for bad jokes and raunchy limericks at the most inopportune moments. He knew his way around a crossbow but preferred the sword. Ithran was using a borrowed longsword for this mission, as Adynaton was far too recognizable a weapon. He missed its familiar weight on his flank; the borrowed sword had a far different weight to it.
He listened as the others spoke. Redcrosse was unwilling to engage in conversation, and frankly Ithran felt no need to jump in either. He kept an eye out for Eshana, who'd been with him until he'd joined up with the War-Forged group. He realized he recognized one of the chevaliers, the mare who had escaped his ambush several months ago. There were so many other unfamiliar horses that Ithran wasn't sure which one was Eshana. Hopefully she'd be able to make herself known to him.
He settled back to wait and listen. Cinder and Blaze were a fair distance off. He'd caught glimpses of the large bear over the days of travel, but she was obeying his command to shadow him from a distance. Again, they were too recognizable to keep with him. Still, he missed Cinder's chatter and Blaze's solid, familiar presence at his side.
Post Count: 1 | Word Count: 428
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Post by NorthernMyth on Dec 17, 2017 22:31:03 GMT -6
The group had traveled down Skeldr, leaving many behind insight of the War Lord. The Aodhians had reached for the herd to aid them in their endeavors. Hira sending the mountains children to traverse into a stranger's land. It had been the first time Alvane had ever left Onea. The daunting journey down The Warlords Road had made the mare feel like a mixed drink of both anxiety and strength. Never had she thought that would be sent personally by Hira on something like this. Two female Scout ushered along with a highly trained group of Raiders. I did give the mare a boost in her thought of her own fighting capability but also in her ego.
The mare walked a little off from the group. Keeping her distance so to not start anything with the Aodhians. She had been told her to hold her tongue and her sly, sarcastic comments weren’t wanted. So instead she walked along in brooding silence. The mare stood out like a sore hoof among the group. She was fully kitted with weapons, brightly coloured hair that shaped her neck and was the smallest and youngest on the Forged side of things. Part of her was excited and emotionally ready to go head first into battle. The other part, scared and annoyed for leaving the place she truly knew every inch of. Thoughts ran through her head of the Bloody Flanks running amuck in Onea without her there. This new and unimportant land they had been traveling to was completely alien and Alvane was really surprised to hear that Hira had decided to join arms with the Aodhians in their vengeful crusade.
Alvane stopped walking briefly to take in her surrounding, taking a step back from her thoughts. The sun smiled warmly here, whereas in Onea it barely touched the snow. The warmth stolen by Alya’s chilling winds and the mountains icy peaks. The mare sighed, closing her eyes and outstretching her head towards its warm glow. This was going to be a long and tiresome journey and the secluded mare didn’t know how long she would be able to handle this group of horses. Of all the horses she had been sent on this mission with. She only knew one by name. Fox had been there the night of finding the bloody flanks encampment. And they weren’t exactly on good terms as far as the blue-haired mare knew.
Alvane stepped forward again. Quickly popping into a lope and drifting back over to the group though, she continued forward to the front, matching the overly sized Shield's side. “Sir, Perhaps we stop for the evening.” Her tone and volume low, taking formalities into consideration. “The sun will soon no longer shine upon our backs and although I do not know this land, I believe it will fall victim to Cascades chilling darkness.” Her eyes pierced his thoughts, his hulking body towering over her, casting a dark shadow, drowning her in near darkness.
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Post by Mad-Manx on Dec 18, 2017 2:07:32 GMT -6
Eshana Chazona
vagabond | vindicator
aodh | chevalier
"Strong but exhausted."
Post: #1 | Word Count: 423
Current Form: Here There was a certain thrill to the mission, a rush of adrenaline that kept Eshana trapped on the precipice of tension as she moved among the soldiers. An eerie scenario it was to be a spy among enemies, to know that a single wrong step could wind up with her trapped once more in Valore; No doubt this time with flames consuming her body.
It hadn't taken long to spot Ithran among the Raiders. Eshana had come to know his dark bay coat all too well over the past six months, and although his distinctive brindle was obscured from view, she knew undoubtedly it was him. The fact they had both successfully slipped into their respective characters without rousing a significant amount of suspicion was a good sign indeed. Still, caution was never unwarranted in situations such as these. Carefully she had separated herself from him throughout the course of the day, fearful that even a gleam of recognition shared between the two may render their mission useless. Flanked by Chevaliers and Raiders alike, now was hardly a time to put both their lives in jeopardy.
Rather unfortunately, Ithran was not the only one she recognized in the sea of faces. A few Chevaliers elicited unwelcome memories, no doubt overseers as her time as a labour slave, and even a familiar Raider had joined the force. Although unsure of the brute's name, there was no mistaking the hulking mass of an equine who she had encountered a mere three months prior, stealing his form in order to aid in the liberation of Valore bound slaves. A sluggish, though most certainly powerful opponent, she had no inclination to reenact that particular memory and had cautiously kept her distance throughout the day.
Silence had reigned between the warriors, and determined not to draw unwanted attention, Eshana had followed suit. Her ears swiveled to catch the sound of an approaching equine though, and with a gleam of curiosity she regarded the Onean that approached her, nearly doing a double take at the sheer size of the grey stallion. She'd heard stories of the Onean Raiders, certainly, even seen the War-Forged blood in Ithran's physique, but even still the presence of the massive equine caught her off guard. Though her borrowed form added a few inches to her height, it appeared as a nearly insignificant difference when compared to those that surrounded her.
"Chazona," Eshana replied evenly to Rylan's words, refusing to flinch as his hoof met the ground with a resounding noise. "A Chevalier of Valore."
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Post by PeculiarVixen on Dec 18, 2017 5:22:46 GMT -6
Uther|Raider
Sirith, A place where I have never been to. A place so foreign, I started to wonder what Serora was going to be like. Of course, I've heard ribble-rabble in the taverns but how accurate can a bunch of drunks be? I looked around at who was accompanying us on this.. trek. I saw a few familiar faces; Good ol Bates, Icabod, Ms. Fox, and a medic he didn't know but has seen around Skeldr Town before. The rest, strangers. What was really about to go down in Sedo, or Aodh for that matter. Uther began to grow uneasy about what lies ahead;
'Ya know, I could really use a drink' but just before I could get my flask out of my bag an unknown voice broke the silence that lingered, Another voice then chimed in from another unknown figure "I certainly hope we can try!" I chuckled, while the other stallion was speaking I noticed the mare had piercing red eyes that weren't full of malice or mischief. "Pleasure to meet you lass, But no.. this is the first time I've been out of the boundaries of Onea, It's strange to me but yet I embrace it." I thought about the mountains I explored and camped on, 'How the hell is that going to help with sand' This mission was very unusual for Hira to give, Normally we'd be dealing with the damn cultists plaguing our lands. "Where are my manners, I'm Uther."
Post: 1
WC: 251
(Sorry I was so late!)
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Post by tarriedsea on Dec 18, 2017 17:13:24 GMT -6
 She had dreamed of the day she would travel outside of Onea. In her mind, the world beyond the pine forests was vast and magical and spellbinding. It contained strangers and mysteries, hidden lore and secret lands, friends to be made and cultures to be immersed in.
And yet when her hooves stepped off the War Lord's road, when she left the careful embrace of her homeland, a sickening chill ran up her legs. Would she return to precious Onea's grass and hills and deep woods in one piece?
Abram had come from here- Abram, that sweet stallion who belonged to a land far beyond her gaze where it never snowed and sand stretched for miles and the sky was as open as the flats below.
Abram, who she was now vowed to betray.
From hearing about the imminent war and the alliance with Aodh, Fox was prickled but not surprised. Of course her herd would align with their strongest ally. But the whole thing seemed like a disagreement that got heated, and could maybe be negotiated with a long talk over dinner and wine.
Then again, what did she know about politics. The topic usually bored her. The only thing that made her incredulous about this war was her friend, the bondmate. Fighting was not in her repertoire and she doubted she would be expected to share blows with some desert folk, much less Abram himself, but the invisible division now between them hurt her heart. She absentmindedly wondered how he was doing.
Until something bumped her shoulder and knocked her out of her head. Bates' massive flank brushed past her, and she flicked her ears back. He probably hadn't even felt her. Go ahead, trample the lady.
None of her Onean companions were strangers; she knew them at least by name. Alvane the fellow Scout, the obnoxiously large Raiders, a medic (whose name now escaped her, as she realized he had been quiet as a mouse this whole trek) who clung to the back of the line like an ornery old goose.
Oh, and the new Raider Redcrosse. Fox had never seen him, but he was probably an old friend of Hira. The War Lord had been bringing old comrades into the Fortress lately.
The Chevaliers, on the other hand, filled Fox with a childlike awe. Here were children of Ignacio's herd, so normal and physical! In the flesh! She had only ever heard Valore in name but never witnessed its citizens. And here they stood.
She tried to stand as tall and dignified as possible when they met, attempting (and failing) to distance her presence and mind from the smelly and brutish mountains that stood next to her. She suddenly felt very unkempt next to Aodhian chevaliers. I should have trimmed my whiskers.
But the little spotted Chevalier mare who walked with the authority of a king and the hesitance of a newborn seemed the least intimidating of the bunch, and Fox quickly fell into step beside her.
OOC:
(Hey PeculiarVixen, we have a Discord chat for this plot if you want to join! I think FireBirdFalling sent you a note. Just for all of us to keep up with one another on this fun ride <3 )
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Post by firebirdfalling on Dec 18, 2017 19:05:47 GMT -6
Mercury | NPC Chevilar Leader
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The war band stopped at the edge of the plains, miles of grassland ahead and Aodhian soil behind. The sun was setting slowly in blazing colors of gold and red flame akin to the sky burning, but Alya would keep the sun from destroying her domain. Still, despite the beauty of the view, camp must be set up. Mercury turned from her quick glance at the sunset, a frown on her face. “We must set up camp,” She glanced around before setting eyes on Bates, the War-Forged leader. “Please assign your members to tasks that you believe are suited to them best.” She turned to look at her own Chevilars, a ragged bunch if she ever saw them. Her frown deepened. We are not animals! I will not have my soldiers looking like bedraggled vagabonds, not in front of these northern Raiders! Mercury huffed, before continuing her orders. “Pick a job, either unloading the wagons, starting the cooking fires, or setting up defenses. Nikolas, Beyond, scout the area for threats, but also for any cracks in the ground someone may accidently fall into during the night. You all have your jobs, so get to it!”
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Post by Callousal on Dec 18, 2017 21:15:19 GMT -6
tagged: Liri. Mercury. 347 words The draft nodded at Alvane’s words, then turned his attention to Mercury as she encouraged the notion, respectfully allowing her to vocalise her thoughts before chiming in and distributing commands. “Alvane, Fox, please accompany,” he turned to face the two Chevaliers that Mercury had addressed briefly, “Nikolas and Beyond in scouting the area.”
The Raiders followed close behind, their looming presence urging his gaze to focus upon them. “Icabod, Rylan, Uther and…” his blue eyes made transient contact with theirs, before quickly settling on the seal bay. “Redcrosse.” he acknowledged warily, looking at him for reassurance that his memory had served him well.
“I trust you all know the drill by now, set up camp,” Bates signalled toward the caravan of supplies they had been hauling, “and take only what is needed.”
Dismissing the band of marauders, Bates looked to Gulliver next, brow quirked. “I gather you are familiar on how to build a campfire.” Indirectly assigning the medic a task before trying to lightening the dreary mood, “I’m sure these children of Ignacio will happily educate you on its complexities if you’re uncertain otherwise.”
Bates released an amused breath at the thought, if anyone knew how to work a fire, it would be the Aodhians.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 18, 2017 23:41:39 GMT -6
The stallion listened to the small talk that hummed over the group, but his ears laid back as he slipped into his own little world. He had an excellent skill of blocking out those around him and quieting his mind, allowing for himself to just.. exist. No thoughts, no distractions, just follow along and see what happens. It wasnt long before a call to stop for the night caused his ears to flick forward and his head to raise. A sigh of relief left his lips as he felt the twinge in his joints. Typically, he kept them moving, but never for this long. They were starting to complain about the work load and it was time to finally listen to them.
Just as Gulliver was pulling his bags over his head, ignoring the shouting from the lead Chevalier, Bates looked in his direction. Gulliver's brow quirked as mentioned a fire, giving a nod and a lopsided smirk. "I dont need Aodhians to make a fire." He scoffed, but in a lighthearted tone as he dropped his bags to the earth. Giving his back a stretch, he pressed on, his hind legs only giving him trouble for a moment or two before he settled back in to a natural gait. Shaking his shaggy mane, he pulled a cigar from his bags as he passed, pressing it between his teeth for when the fire started. "Besides, we need to show we arent as dimwitted as they think we are." He gave the large stallion a wink before taking off to own, finding a natural dip in the earth to start his fire.
He lined the pit with rocks before filling it with kindling and leaves that had been laying around. He found a few larger logs that would make the fire at least start and last until more could be cut, and got to work. Rubbing a couple of sticks together, a spark brought the fire to life on the kindling. Pulling his cigar from his mouth, he held it over the small flame to get it to light. He brought it back to his lips to puff it to life, careful to not light his whiskers on fire (he had learned that the hard way many years ago).
"We're going to need more logs." Gulliver raised his voice, hinting at whoever did not have a job. His heavy lifting days were over, and he figured it would be best to leave that job for those who were stronger anyways. He was just here to keep everyone alive, not throw his back out chopping lumber.
Settling down beside the fire, he kept the flame running, adding logs as needed to let it grow. The light danced against his coat, lighting up his dark eyes as if they glowed. The warmth caused his muscles to relax, the pain in his hind end ebbing away as he finally gave them the rest he deserved. Every now and then, his gaze flickered up to the others, watching them take care of their part of the camp as he nursed his cigar.
Gulliver found himself lost in watching the smoke swirl before him. It was funny to him, as a medic, that he cared so much for the health of others, yet seemed to trash his own. He never slept, ruined his lungs with smoke, and ignored his damaged legs even when they hurt the worst. Yet, he knew if anyone in this camp got even a splinter, he would be on top of them about the right way to keep it clean. Frowning at the thought, he shook it from his mind, adding another log to the growing flame.
One of these days, he would stop being such a stubborn bastard, but today was not that day.
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Post by Superior-Caesar on Dec 19, 2017 1:23:05 GMT -6
Icabod | RaiderIcabod travelled along with the rest of the group. He kept up some small talk for a while, but it eventually died off. He was lost in his thoughts again, focusing on the ground beneath their hooves.
He was pulled from his mind once again when it was called for them to stop for the night. The roan raider looked to Bates for his next task. He quickly went to work on helping build up their temporary encampment. Hopefully the chevaliers would be kind enough to lend a helping hoof. The set up wouldn't take too long, especially if they had plenty of help.
After finishing the task, Icabod offered to help Gulliver. He trotted out to the nearby cluster of trees. Using his tremor sense, he was able to choose which of the trees was deadest. Then with a few swift swings of his axe, he felled the small, dead tree. Icabod carried back a few smaller logs cut from the trunk. They were heavy in his silver teke, but he could manage if he went back in two more trips. Sure enough, the stallion finished the task. "This should be enough for the night. If not, I'll get more."
Icabod sat a good distance to the left of Gulliver. With his one good eye he watched the tiny light from Gulliver's cigar. It was interesting how one flame could be so small while another so massive. His gaze shifted to the fire before them. He watched as the flames flickered and danced into the air. Maybe if they had the fire on their side, they could handle whatever it was they were going into. It would also help if Alya had shut herself out to all of Sedo like she had to him. "I may not be too fond of this war we're waging, but I think we'r damn well gonna win if we must fight." The raider mused to know one in particular.
Word Count: 226
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Post by foreignblackjack on Dec 19, 2017 2:52:20 GMT -6
Wulff
Wulff set down the things he'd been carrying and listened intently before starting to pitch some tents near the fire. He made sure they weren't too close; in the event of a surprise attack it wouldn't pay anyone to be rushing into the fire and getting seriously hurt. He frowned, where had that thought come from? He didn't have to be considerate of these strangers, or think of their well-being, and yet the idea had just popped into his head. He snorted and shook his head, letting his thoughts venture else where as he set tents up. It didn't take him long to set the those he had been carrying before he stopped to have a drink. He hadn't thought to drink until now, but it didn't worry him.
He listened to chatter for a moment, only to perk an ear at a statement that caught his attention. He turned his eyes to the bay roan sitting a respectable distance from the grullo splash that also sat beside the fire. He couldn't quite remember the grullo's name, but that wasn't who he was focused on. He quirked a brow and looked at Icabod for a moment, before deciding to speak up.
"You are exceedingly optimistic to think that," Wulff replied in a low drawling tone, "What makes you feel that we would win in this war, if we are to fight? You must have great faith in your abilities to fight. Or perhaps something else."
He set his drinking skin aside and looked up at the sky for a moment.
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Word Count: 260
Post 2
** Mentions Gulliver, and Wulff is talking to Icabod**
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Post by Maelorom on Dec 19, 2017 7:00:16 GMT -6
Beyond//:
While Beyond's conversation with the War-forged stallions was short lived, it introduced her to at least two of the war-forged raiders. Knowing their names at the least would certainly be handy, she would have at least two warriors she could call on by name if the need be during battle. It would make battlefield communications a fair bit easier for her at least.
As the band came to a stand-still Beyond found herself coming to a halt as well but with a slight but surprising unsteadiness. Her legs had settled into the rhythmic movement of walking during the journey meaning that it became a strange sensation to stand still again. Not to mention her wound still caused her leg a little extra strain. Even so she could not help but scowl a little as Mercury announced that they would settle here to set up camp. Honestly she was not yet tired enough to stop and the sun had not sunk low enough in her opinion, but if it was commanded so she had no choice. Of course she was then handed scouting duties. Delightful, was her first, somewhat sarcastic thought. The task was reminiscent of her duties as a new chevalier scouting the streets at dusk for crooks and illegal dealings. At least it would give her a chance to maybe kill something if her mood dropped at any point. She dropped her head for a moment in acknowledgement of Mercury’s words before turning without a word to take a long, circular route around the area chosen for encampment.
As she walked away she did not look back to make sure Nikolas followed her, but she did hear the War-forged leader’s command to send two of his own along with them. For that she did glance back for a moment, to see his two smallest mares had been assigned the duty, it was immediately apparent that there was no chance they were raiders for added for protection. She sighed a little as she continued to walk, as long as they did not get themselves killed she guessed it might come in handy to have some scouts tagging along. At least they would know how to scout well. But she really was no longer in the mood for small talk so she prayed to Ignacio they would not have too much interest in a long and complex conversation.
She then returned her attention to the earth ahead as she continued to move away from the encampment, her eyes scanning it for crevasses and fractures and signs of life like a strand of hair or hoofprints that did not belong to the band as well. Her Teke firm around the pommel of her longsword, ready for anything. She looked up for only a brief moment to wonder if her little filly watched the same sky as she did now. A small smile graced her lips for a moment before she let out a shrill whistle into the crisp evening air. A distant reply came in the form a snarling, feline hiss. Her familiar watched and waited from afar which was a comfort. He would give her early warning if someone approached, his sight and smell was far better than her own, particularly at night.
Post: #3
WC: 542
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Post by ThatDenver on Dec 19, 2017 11:43:00 GMT -6
NIKOLAS
He listened with half an ear as some of the others discussed their previous travels. He was surprised, but pleasantly so, that someone among the raiders had been to Serora before. Nikolas certainly hadn’t been, and honestly wasn’t that eager to go know either if the stories of sand and barren plains were anything to go by, but it would be a new experience for sure.
Perhaps not a positive one, but an experience regardless.
He didn’t make much of an effort to insert himself in the discussions, more looking ahead and hoping that they would set up camp soon. He was used to travel, and not that tired yet, but he also knew from experience that setting a camp for a large group took a while, especially with food and other supplies to be unpacked and shared out among them. Indeed, it would take a while, and he wished they would start soon. Someone else seemed to have the same idea, but he didn’t turn his head to see who it was.
He also noted the red and sabino mare, a War Forged, who distanced themselves from their own group, and moved closer to them. Nikolas eyed them curiously, but not unkindly.
Before he had time to consider whether he might want a discussion, he stopped, the orders of Mercury coming loud and clear. Nikolas nodded at them, and looked for Beyond. He didn’t know her personally, but recognized her by looks, and moved over to her, following on her heels. She did not seem eager to do this duty, which confused Nikolas – he much preferred scouting to building tents and chopping firewood himself.
Not wishing to annoy Beyond, who didn’t seem all too happy to begin with, Nikolas hung back enough to instead come closer to the two War Forged who had been sent to accompany them. Let Beyond walk ahead of them.
He nodded at the scouts, and introduced himself: “I am Nikolas.” Perhaps they could have gathered that from the command, but in Aodh it wasn’t always so clear what name went with what body.
With Beyond walking ahead and whistling, Nikolas gazed ahead into the darkness before focusing more on watching their flanks. Being the biggest among their scouting team, he felt that it was his responsibility, to an extent, to stop any attack long enough for his allies to dispatch it.
Word count: 397
Post #2
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Post by NovelNoctuary on Dec 19, 2017 20:17:44 GMT -6
RYLAN
War Forged // Raider // 20hh
Though keenly unfamiliar with the hum of conversation that lay over him like a coarse blanket, strange voices scratching relentlessly at his ears while he marched beneath the light of Sirith's blazing sun, Rylan found that it did not take much effort to disregard the noise for what it was -- filler. Static. Background. His mellow discussion with the Aodhian mare, Chazona, had ebbed to silence after several uncomfortable minutes, and rather than subject himself to further embarrassment he fell back until he had a solid, sweeping view of the land that surrounded them. From here he provided lookout, head high enough to clear even the tallest of his companions.
It would have been proper to relax, he supposed, but he could not quite chase away thoughts of the death and destruction so often wrought by war. They weren't fighting yet, but a single lapse in judgment was all that it took to tear a peaceful moment apart. He would search the hills so that the people he traveled with could enjoy their chatter.
Afternoon had very nearly bled into night by the time that the Aodhian lead called for a halt. Miles upon miles of foreign soil had passed beneath their hooves, hardened bodies melting into the strain of a tiresome first day, and Rylan watched several individuals stumble at her shout. He stopped behind them with the ease of a man who had dedicated half his life to expeditions such as these (though they took place within Onea's borders rather than beyond them). Thick ropes of muscle flexed beneath his skin as he did so, and he gave himself a quick stretch to keep them loose. His cool gaze flicked briefly towards the Chevalier-In-Charge, who had taken to barking commands at her people, before it settled on the broad flaxen bay who had been given authority over his own. Bates. The man was not someone he had interacted with personally, but stories told in passing led Rylan to believe he was a commendable fellow. Dedicated. He had a child, now, didn't he? A daughter? Someone to protect...
Rylan shook the thought from his mind. It was really none of his business, not here or now.
Orders were simple, if laboursome. Set up camp. Survey the area. Start fires. Cook. Raiders, Scouts, and Chevaliers alike scattered upon dismissal, making quick work of the tasks they had been given. The low strum of commingling voices kicked up again as like-minded fellows began to exchange scraps of conversation, illuminated by a vivid winter sky the red-orange-gold of Ignacio's sacred fire. Rylan, thoroughly uninterested in working alongside those who had chosen to pitch tents and distribute supplies, made the executive decision to focus instead on protection. Even a temporary dwelling was a dwelling. Besides, he had paid his social dues; some quality solitude seemed just the thing to lighten his mood.
Expression hard, he sniffed out the wagon that held their cache of weapons, tools, and the like, selected his items of preference (axe, hatchet, shovel), and then made his way towards the outskirts of what would soon be a rather well-formed encampment. The growing fatigue in his joints - particularly his knees and pasterns, which bore the brunt of his weight - proved to be a bearable pain, and one that he studiously ignored while he chopped down the thin trees he would later hack into deadly spikes. Once he had created a decent pile, he would space them around a shallow trench and call that well enough. One night did not warrant much more -- particularly not for a collection of sleepless soldiers. Nostrils flaring wide as he breathed in lungfuls of crisp evening air, Rylan let himself slip into a state of relative calm. Here, a short distance from the bulk of his allies, he could be comfortable. Somewhat. The impending war loomed over him, loomed over them all, but the sunset was lovely and the grasslands were beautiful and he felt himself relaxing slowly into the motion of his work. Fell a tree, chop it to pieces, haul the pieces where they belonged; find another tree, fell it, chop it to pieces, haul those pieces; again and again, until he deemed their numbers acceptable and took to forming the points that would make them dangerous. His mind wandered as he did so, settling on no topic in particular.
Word Count: 728 Post: 2 |
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Post by Deleted on Dec 20, 2017 18:46:09 GMT -6
The stallion nodded to the raider as he dropped a pile of firewood at his side. It seemed like enough; Gulliver wasnt planning on making the fire large. It just had to last enough to keep them warm. His small ears flicked in Icabod's direction as he settled on the other side of the fire, but he made no effort to start a conversation. For now, he was just resting, enjoying the warmth, and the smoke filling his lungs.
"I may not be too fond of this war we're waging, but I think we're damn well gonna win if we must fight."
The raider's voice broke his lack of concentration, and Gulliver found himself lifting his gaze to meet the other on the other side of the fire. He took in a puff of his cigar, letting the smoke swirl before his muzzle as another responded. A small, lopsided smirk played across the medic's lips.
"Optimistic indeed." He added, looking to Wulff before Icabod. "It is one thing to take a vacation to the sand nation, but another to fight in it." He let out a sigh, tapping his cigar over the fire and watching the sparks fall to the crackling wood. He hadnt meant to sound like a downer, he was just being realistic. "Working through sand is tiring on the muscles. I suggest keeping to firm ground, or cleared areas if you can. Its definitely no treck through the snow." While Gulliver had never been to Serora in his life - hell, he rarely went further down the mountain than Skeldr Town - he had an inkling that not all of Serora was deep, loose sand. There had to be other places of harder ground, or perhaps even a little bit of foliage; just like how not all of Onea was snow.
His attention was briefly captured by the sound of a tree falling, causing him to glance in the direction of Rylan gathering lumber before settling down to turn them into spears. His brow raised as he watched the stallion for a moment, considering calling to him not to hurt himself (as Gulliver saw him as a patient far too often as it was), but decided against it. The stallion seemed to be focusing, and the last thing Gulliver needed to do was distract him. Instead, he turned back to the fire, added another log, and took another drag from his smoke.
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Post by Superior-Caesar on Dec 20, 2017 19:05:08 GMT -6
Icabod ~ RaiderIcabod flicked an ear as the smoke from the fire neared his nostrils. He snorted softly, then turned his head to look at a chevalier who had spoken up. He let a small smile curl onto his lips as his optimism was questioned. Then the medic, Gulliver, also voiced his opinion. Perhaps he was being too optimistic, but he had his reasons. "You're definitely not wrong about the sand. It's looser than snow and it gets everywhere. But, it isn't through the entirety of the country. Like you suggest," Icabod nodded along in agreement with Gulliver. "But we may have the upper hand in some ways. By no means is what I'm about'a say one hundred percent true, I think it is, though. A couple months back, I got a blessing from Alya, and it worked fine, despite being so new to it. Then one day, it just stopped working. Even when praying to the goddess, I felt nothing. If that's a sign, a country without a god on its side is not so strong." The raider realized he may sound crazy, but it made so much sense to him. Then again, maybe his companions weren't religious. Maybe they thought the Serorans had the upper hand.
"I uh... I guess that's not much to go on, especially if you don't believe in those sorts of things. But, I think we've got a fighting chance." Icabod stopped speaking, hoping his words might sink in some. He then shifted the gaze of his eye to Rylan. He looked like he didn't care for talk, true brute of a Forged he was. Icabod chuckled internally. The roan stallion moved from his sitting position to lie down, still facing the fire. It was a nice warmth. It might have been the first time Icabod truly felt warm in months. Of course, it was his fault for living up on the mountain most days. "Must say, it's going to be one hell of a time seeing you lot in the Sedo deserts." He spoke in a much lighter tone.
Word Count: 344
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Post by firebirdfalling on Dec 20, 2017 20:06:38 GMT -6
Liri turned to respond to the other chevilar, but before the words reached her mouth, Mercury spoke up, interrupting the quip that she had planned. Another horse had wandered to her side in the time between, a War-Forged mare. Not one of those brutes they call raiders but probably the other ones they call scouts. She seemed to be gazing at Liri with a fascination before being pulled away by her own leader. What's with all the new fans all of a sudden?
Didn't matter because everyone split off to set up camp and being the local defense expert meant that obviously, her job was set up defenses. Unfortunately, by the time she had found a shovel, packed in the way back of a wagon, which required her to jump around like an idiot for a few seconds, and walking back to the camp area, it seemed like there was another working on the defenses already. And it was one of those brutes. Of course it was. Oh no, she couldn't be stuck with that scout, but instead with one of the largest members of the group. Lovely.
Liri sighed and walked past the stallion stabbing away at some poor saplings in attempts to make them spear-like. Wood shavings flew off in every which way, some getting lodged in her tail much to her irritation.
She started shoveling a few feet from the stallion, but not making much progress. The grass was packed and tangled together so tightly, her shovel didn't have much to dig besides grass strands. Her dagger wasn't quite long enough either she found, much to her dismay. But, maybe, just maybe...
She summoned her shields, two floating pinwheels of hexagonal shape spinning slowly in front of her. Their soft blue light radiated the area, giving everything in the area an unearthly blue shade. A few minutes passed while she manipulated the shields into a hovering position above where she wanted to dig, then slammed them into the ground. Not a sound was made, but when she dismissed the shields, there was a thin line in the grass where they had been miraculously cut.
Stabbing her shovel into the ground was no problem after that, though the roots were still somewhat a pain. her shields didn't penetrate the earth, but the did cut the grass so it was something. Hopefully she didn't look like a fool when she was working with her shields. She tended to stick her tongue out when concentrating too hard without realizing it.
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WC: 420 | Post #2
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Post by Callousal on Dec 22, 2017 22:50:37 GMT -6
tagged: Gulliver, Wulf, Icabod.. 329 words Bates momentarily observed the raiders work before switching to watch Gulliver feed a small spark that grew into a steady, blazing fire, though his attention soon drifted down to the cigar that glowed with heat from his mouth.
The draft bit the inside of his cheek, attempting to recall whether he had packed his own before…. no, they had been left on the counter in his home in the midst of preparing for this voyage. He shook the thought from his massive head, short mane flipping about, but the craving remained, urging the dappled draft to approach the mass of individuals gathered around the fire. His ears perked upward as he absentmindedly listened to his companions speak about the war, a bittersweet smirk etched into his features, though he held his tongue long enough about it to ask Gulliver for a cigar of his own.
The draft lowered his head in a curt bob of thanks before lighting the cigar with the flame that danced before them. He inhaled deeply, cheeks becoming shallow as he drew in and released a breath. As he listened in on the others chatter, he moved the thick mass of tobacco to one side of his mouth, brows knitting into a deep furrow at their words.
"We have already lost the war if we go into the battlefield carrying such insecurities..." Bates mused, "Victory is never guaranteed, but pessimism will not help.” He spoke with a rasp, emitting smoke from both nostrils as he clenched his jaw. “It’s not going to be an easy fight. Far from it in fact, being in a land so unlike our own, however, I’ll be damned if we’ve trekked halfway across the country only to return empty handed.”
He inhaled lightly on the cigar again, allowing the intricate flavor to blanket and warm his tongue before releasing a deep sigh; it wasn’t a taste he was used to, but it managed to placate some of his anxiety amongst the chaos.
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Post by NovelNoctuary on Dec 23, 2017 21:35:48 GMT -6
RYLAN War Forged // Raider // 20hh
The little spotted mare was clever, if odd. A warrior from Aodh (Liri, he believed), her presence - initially unpleasant - had become increasingly more tolerable over the course of the night, until Rylan found that he did not quite mind working with her under the cover of darkness. She was quiet, and while she saw fit to correct him on several uncomfortable occasions (her knowledge of war was rather impressive; her knowledge of wartime defenses were downright admirable), she did not seem to mind the silence, or even the general feeling of awkwardness that lay over them both like a blanket of snow.
Once or twice Rylan had considered introducing himself to her by name. He never did; his social batteries had been thoroughly depleted during their journey, and he could not trust himself to sound amiable when he felt like dead meat on hooves. Irritable dead meat on hooves. He struggled to reign in his growing temper as the hours passed by, grateful for Liri's mild behavior as she ate away at the clotted earth underhoof with a broad shovel. He was getting cranky, as his mother would have said. He made for a terrible conversationalist when he was feeling chipper; when he was irate he became downright impossible to speak with, not so much for shouting (he never raised his voice in anger) as for a bullheaded refusal to actually, well, speak. He would stay silent until he trusted that he could be reasonable.
By the time that he and the Aodhian mare had finished things to their satisfaction, Gulliver's fire was ablaze with warmth and chatter. Rylan recognized a few faces immediately, but he could not quite bring himself to join in the merriment; rather, he split away from Liri with a brusque dismissal before settling down to rest at the fringes of camp, sweat cooling on his skin as he basked in the cool silver glow of the moon. His eyelids began to droop, irises little more than shards of color against his face. Gods, he was tired...
He had not been assigned first watch. Perhaps he would rest awhile.
Word Count: 355 Post: 3
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Post by NorthernMyth on Dec 24, 2017 2:13:00 GMT -6
Alvane’s eyes shifted from Bates to Mercury. It had appeared the chevalier had thought the same. The mare attempted to fade back into the group but was called upon as the others were given jobs. “Scouting it is then” she mumbled to herself. Alvane took to Fox’s side as they made their way to join up with the others. At first, Alvane was going to be quiet, until the stallion spoke. Her eyes darted towards him, not expecting the formalities. “Alvane, Nice to meet you” A stern monotone voice left her mouth. Though she was thankful the stallion spoke his name, she wasn’t here to “make” friends. Even if he was handsome. Alvane walked forward again, her eyes scanning and soaking in her surroundings. Making an effort to step quietly and lightly. Though the mares, harness, and assortment of weapons continued to jiggle slightly. The leather around her neck and stomach had begun to ache. Though, yes she wore this basic set up every day, she always had a cloak under it all. But not being in the mountains and in a much warmer place had made it impossibly uncomfortable to wear. The same with her mask. It was restricting and suffocating, to say the least. Her sword - Appropriately named Mehira, had begun to rub at her shoulder. She never realized just how much it moved when she traveled. Her ultimate plan was to take her get up off at camp. All except her shoes, bracers, and dagger.
Alvane’s train of thought was disturbed by Beyond up ahead. A loud, shrieking whistle escaped the mare's mouth. Making Alvane's ears fall flat on her neck. Alvane leaped into a canter towards Beyond. “What in Cascade’s rain do you think you’re doing?!” Alvane squaked as she reached Beyond's side. “Are you TRYING to alert anyone around to our presence?” Annoyance and agitation shaped her mouth, hitting a harsh tone as she formed her sentences. Alvane’s ears still lay flat on her neck. Her eyes showing obvious scolding at the mare. “We don’t know who or what is out there, Next time, think before you let everything know where we are.” The mare grumpily walked forward, Taking the lead, though half expecting the Grey mare to protest to her criticizing, even if she did she wasn’t listening. The blue haired Scout didn’t know how the Aodhians did things but their tactics seemed to be as loud as their ego’s.
Again her eyes began surveyed the surrounding till some tracks caught her eye. Alvane put her head down, all eyes on the disturbed grass and dirt. “Heavy deer tracks, 3 days old, heading west. Perhaps 3 or 4” It was supposed to be a mental note but she mumbled it aloud. Alvane looked around behind her again. Making sure everyone had caught up now, but the reality was she wanted to leave them behind, and move on herself. But knowing that she’d most likely be told off, she didn’t feel all that up to it.
Tagging; Fox, Beyond and Nikolas |
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Post by Maelorom on Dec 25, 2017 6:49:10 GMT -6
Beyond//:
The sudden sound of cantering hooves caught Beyond’s attention as one of the scouts came up suddenly behind her. With a small glower she turned her sharp blood-red eyes on the vibrantly coloured equine, a tiny bit irritable to be interrupted. She was certainly surprised to hear the mare that approached scolding her like a child, what on earth was this scout on about? She bared her bloodstained teeth in warning as the other much littler mare continued to whine like a piglet at her to her growing irritation. While she hadn’t been too grumpy when they taken off she certainly felt herself growing grouchier with every word from the scouts mouth.
"Why don’t you think before you speak sweet-heart? I assure you I'm not the fool you appear to be” Came her quick and hissing reply before she turned her attention from the mare who similarly moved away, seemingly determined to ignore her reply. Beyond sniggered to herself for a moment, the scout was an absolute and ignorant fool. She paused for a moment to stretch her neck underneath the gold armour before returning her attention to the earth, her eyes scanning the grassy ground for any sign of instability. She had in fact been using the call of a native bird to communicate with her familiar, she had passed through here before as part of Iscah’s guard and knew the sounds of the area’s birds reasonably well. If there was someone out there the call would have sounded like nothing more than some bird of prey in the distance. She had made this journey before under similar circumstances, she was prepared and not about to make a mistake like that.
Her eyes flicked upward as the mare walked past her also watching the earth. A smirk crossed her lips as the mare mumbled something about a deer, "why don’t you let us know when it’s an actual equine dear? I don’t think we’re going to be fighting deer”. A little play on words for her own amusement. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad if they did catch up with a deer, she felt like running something through right about now. Not that she meant any real harm by her words, which she displayed with a small but playful, if somewhat patronising, smile. The other mare had made a mistake and seemed pig-headed enough that Beyond didn’t bother to explain to her why she was incorrect. While she was not trying to make enemies, which this scout obviously was, she was definitely in no mood to try reasoning with someone who did not pause to think. So she let the other equine wonder ahead, her eyes again to the ground. She paused again for a moment to gently feel at an odd dip in the dirt before judging it safe and moving on again.
Post: #4
WC: 475
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