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Post by Jennycallie on Jul 1, 2018 0:26:00 GMT -6
Hello Starborn, and welcome to War-Forged Plot 602: No Good Deed Team Leader: Vidalia Participants: Vidar, Alcippe, Faraji, Dove, Sigyn, Sybil, Rose, Odina, Kalei, Viktor, Fletcher, Mary, Gemini, Astrid 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: War Forged: Unknown to the majority of the Forged, Vidar’s crew of Bloody Flanks have been laying low in the farmlands, relying on the “hospitality” of the unfortunate farmers there. But when Cultists grow bold and come knocking, perhaps the presence of the Bloody Flanks is not such a bad thing... Cultists: The Cult has kept a breakneck pace into Onea. After stealing ships to cross the Narrows (and then burning those ships, and the Onean docks you landed on, as a gift to your god) you have traveled well into the War-Forged farmlands. Your numbers aren't great enough to challenge the larger villages yet, but you have been blotting farmsteads off the map along your path, taking prisoners, growing in number. The Ascendant has ordered that you continue growing in strength, so that the Cult will be prepared when they reach Mt. Skeldr. As the sun begins to set, one of your scouts spots a small farming settlement on the crest of a nearby hill, the perfect place to make camp. Lit windows and a crowded bonfire in the village square mean there are inhabitants to force out or dispose of, but that doesn't dissuade you; even after a long day of travel, nothing helps you unwind like a little mayhem. Location: Farmlands Time of Day: dead of night Current Weather: Cool, foggy You do not have to wait for your leader to post!
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Post by data-bull on Jul 1, 2018 19:03:10 GMT -6
Rose
The scout’s call brought Rose to her feet and her mind to attention. She scanned the horses around her as they did the same, and it struck her how comforting the sight was. When it came down to her allegiances, whether she was with the Cult or Bloody Flanks made no difference. Destruction awaited that village, as it had so many others in recent days. The Disciples thirsted for blood, and she’d gotten roped into the fray. There was no love lost on her for the War Forged, and the mare had grown numb to their screams.
Though she longed for her frigid northern home, she would protect the cousin who’d been left for dead, and the cousin who had returned from death. She hoped that one day she might make peace with her clan, but in the moment placating her new “herd” was all she could manage. Rose would fight with them for the right to stay, but she would not die for their god if she could help it.
The unicorn signalled to her vulture familiar, who transferred himself from an overlooking tree to her back as they prepared to march on the unsuspecting town ahead.
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Post by Deleted on Jul 2, 2018 7:11:42 GMT -6
vidar now i'm stuck between alive and after Vidar was hardly herself through the winter. She'd been a person of action her whole life, constantly driving the Trespasser crew to new heights, constantly changing the landscape with bold maneuvers and grand schemes. Her ambition wasn't always beneficial, but at least it had been dependable up until now. She'd been mostly silent since the wreckage of Holmsa, occasionally alternating between bitter murmurs and barking orders as her crew pushed inland.
Even the occupation of the farmstead they'd taken over had been done without her usual theater. This was the third or fourth home the Flanks had seized (she hardly remembered), but it was by far the most isolated. Its hilltop position gave them a vantage point too, and they had waited out most of the snowy months here, gathering their strength to continue their fight against Skeldr after the thaw.
And the thaw was almost here.
Vidar slouched before the campfire, her sword stuck upright into the dirt beside her, her hind foot cocked in a stiff facsimile of relaxation. While the Flanks talked and joked and gambled around her, she watched the burning logs and chewed the inside of her cheek. They couldn't hide here much longer, Vidar knew, but where would they go next? With the spring, Raiders would be on their trail again. The miserable peace of winter was gone, and they could hardly fight Skeldr alone. As she often did, Vidar ruminated on her mistakes, eyes watching the flames.
She stood suddenly upright, raising her head and planting her feet while she ripped her sword from the ground, bringing it to a ready position at her side with an expert flourish. At least not all of her grand tendencies were gone. "Vidalia," she said, moving to the edge of the campfire's light, facing the darkness. "I'll take over." With a nod, she dismissed the mule from watch duty, and began to pace the perimeter of the camp, twirling her chipped saber slowly as she did.
post 1 | 331 words ch'girl back at it again with the unnecessary swordplay and hyper-emotional melodrama |
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Post by fynli on Jul 2, 2018 8:16:53 GMT -6
= Odina =
1 | 218Odina was quiet beside her peers, a steady red beacon amid the dull gray of the foggy landscape. She was used to her observant role in the back but now she sidled up to her cousin, briefly brushing her shoulder against Rose’s. Staring out over the farmland, she felt that familiar itch rise once more underneath her skin. It burned to her scars and lit a fire in her eyes. The promise of a hunt was nigh.
“Are you ready?” she murmured to her cousin, sparing the larger unicorn a quick glance.
Odina was ready. Adjusting to the cultists’ way of life had been difficult but she managed, even gaining many more fresh scars along her brindled coat. War-Forged was a disease, a virus that would infect all who were weak and quickly leave them to perish. Odina had believed that her family had been the cure once. Now she stood here, the eager pacing of the more trigger happy cultists picking at her attention. She looked behind her, seeking out the familiar red eyes of her sister.
Movement at the farm caught in her peripheral and she whipped her head back, squinting at the shifting of shadows among the fog. “They’ve switched watch,” she muttered half to herself, not really caring if Rose picked it up either.
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Post by brandvandet on Jul 2, 2018 10:26:58 GMT -6
alcippe The wishes I've made are too vicious to tell
Everyone knows I am going to hell Alcippe was accustomed to waiting. She'd lived most of her life in anticipation, watching quietly, absorbing information and learning skills. She'd learned the art of staying silent, of coiling herself like a spring to save her energy until it could do the most use. Some would look at her calm exterior and call it complacency. She called it caution.
Or cleverness.
The freedom of the Trespasser had afforded her more ways to express that energy and she’d found a voice--a loud one that had roared over Ghosthold--after her days of silence. It was not the easiest thing to settle back into a crouch, biding her time. It chafed but she bore it.
She knew it chafed at others more.
Vidar had had her own leashes over the years as much as Alcippe knew she loved to slice the straps through. Still, the leader of the renegade Bloody Flanks had had far more freedom growing up as the chosen, hailed son than she had as the lone daughter. Vidar was one for overt, grandiose plans as sweeping as the swashbuckling stories she used to tell to her younger sister. Alcippe knew that waiting, especially this interminable collection of just passing time, was not something her wife dealt with well.
The tall blonde stood up, watching silently as her battle partner returned to camp and murmured greetings and a touch to the mule as she passed. Her attention was split, however, watching the diffused red light circle the camp. Vidar’s damnable eye was reflecting off the fog, making it look like a specter or some demon of Ignacio’s dreaming was pacing around them for the kill. She shut down the superstitious whisperings as she heard them in the crew and she’d never looked at her wife any differently but she couldn’t deny that the new look was unsettling if you were not used to it.
Moving softly, she slid up abreast Vidar, trusting her to notice and stop swinging that sword before it hit her. “You know I don’t make this offer lightly,” she said, a dry humor crackling through her voice. “Do you want to talk?”
post 1 | 355 words |
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Post by posy-punch on Jul 2, 2018 10:29:20 GMT -6
The sisters had succumbed months ago to the power of the Cult; the night had been too cold, too long, and so now they stood together amassed with a number of others. They were quick to distance themselves from the other captives that the Cult had begun to take. Their distaste with the general War-Forged population had become readily apparent and had succeeded in alienating them from the newcomers from the villages. Additionally, it had only taken those couple of months for the Gemini to acknowledge the Cult as a curiosity rather than a true threat to themselves. After all, they were far more familiar now with the Cult than any others in Hireath.
And their indoctrination had been mostly successful. If their comfort around those like Fletcher or Kalei was anything to go by. Now they simply watched from the sidelines, not yet so interested in taking upon a torch themselves to burn down a village, but content enough to offer no complaint. Their hesitance was perhaps due to Carina's influence over that of her sister's on their shared body. The more cautious of the two, it was her that kept a reign on Andromeda's curiosity, on her seemingly unfounded desire to push her superiority over others. But Carina had kept a handle on Andromeda's influence over the Gemini for much of the journey, and as taxing as it was physically, the mental strength she was exerting over her sister's consciousness was enough to make Carina lax.
So at the first sight of the farming settlement and the glowing light of flames, Andromeda had quickly pushed her sister from the forefront of the Gemini's ability and control, assuming the dominant power inside their shared body with ease. After all, she had been resting for days to overcome the other. Now, she strode to where Fletcher stood, a familiar (debatably friendly) face amongst the sea of unfamiliarity she'd been faced with recently.
"How many captives will you take before you are satisfied?" Were the words that came out of the Gemini's mouth, stilted with a lack of proper tone, a concept the sisters still lacked full control of.
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Post by unifangs on Jul 2, 2018 11:23:41 GMT -6
Dove is not accustom to idle hooves. The stillness leaves her squriming, itching.. Chomping at the chains that constrict their movements. She eyed her crewmates. Listened to their laughter and conversations as she ruminated and pined for movement. Wandering in the darkness is almost a mercy in comparison to her boredom. She stares at her crossbow, the listless weapon. Out of sheer habit she pulls it closer and lowers her head, tendrils of pale hair falling over her face as she tries to distract herself. Briefly she contemplates joining others, striking up conversation but she remains comfortable in her corner, her fur draped over her shoulders and bags tucked close.
Each step on Onean soil brings them closer to their goal.. And Dove thirsts for that moment. She would happily throw herself under the axe of a valkyrie if she witnessed the burning of Skeldr Town. Though those fantasies feel far off in the confined walls of the farmhouse. It brings an unsettling sense of familiarity and she wants to charge out of the frame, leave behind the distant memories of her childhood. When they had first stepped near the farming settlements her stomach had churned as the tinkling of laughter echoed in her ears, images of tucking herself close to her sisters during winter which have only been worsened by the stillness.
For once she decides to stand, keeping her bow close as she inches her way closer to the bulk of the group. Maybe catharsis lay in listening to her comrades no matter how unreachable she feels she may be. Too much inaction.. She is hungry for more.
Post: 1 WC: 270 |
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Post by MusicalMagpie on Jul 2, 2018 20:21:25 GMT -6
Mary | Mercenary
Months ago she had been heading away from Onea, trying to stay out of the cultists' hunting grounds for their bloody holiday. She failed, captured and imprisoned for a hellish time, she could now only look back on those last months as a blur. Praying every night, the wasting unicorn had thought God abandoned her in this dark place. But, God answered with more than she ever hoped. Blessed with God's Shield, Mary stood armed to the teeth and ready for war. Despite her dulling red coat and tangled hair her eyes burned with the same passion as when she forsake the Cult.
They marched north like a great machine, hardly stopping to snatch up unfortunate horses caught up in the tracks. Few would try running, but be caught up in the ghastly energy of chaos. It was better to lay low and march on. Mary kept her sharp tongue tied and horns clean of ill intent. She had a history with the Cult and it seemed common knowledge that the red traitor had a habit of slipping away. She only spoke with the other prisoners when first spoken to and never to a cultist, they didn't deserve anymore of her words. They had taken everything already. Everything, but the crummy idol. The pagan idol she confided in, recognized but could not name. Of all the things they let remain with her, it was the item that made her stronger.
The Cultists became restless. Up ahead a fire was lit and it meant more horses were going to join the terrified ranks or die running. Mary lifted her head up to try gazing over the backs of others. They had to be well into War Forged territory by now so the possibility of a drawn out skirmish was there. She could make a break for it. Red teke glowed around the idol that hung low on her neck. God help her.
Word Count - 321 |
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Post by Ehrendi on Jul 3, 2018 6:28:07 GMT -6
Faraji | Bloody Flank Medic
Unlike many of the Flanks, Faraji found the waiting to be a time of recuperation and welcomed it with open arms. It healed wounds, refreshed tired minds and for Faraji, reminded her why she was here in the first place. The bay mare rested near the fire, dozing off to the usual sounds of the night around her, feeling safe under the watchful eyes of her crew mates. It wasn't until Vidar spoke that Faraji jolted awake, staring bleary-eyed through the orange flames to watch her switch places with Vidalia. For a while she followed the glowing red eye, for that was all she could make out in the light fog that settled over the farm. It still made her feel uneasy, but she was certain it was only because of the incident leading up to Vidar getting the eye in the first place...and all that had followed it. Faraji took a deep breath of the frigid air, taking her eyes off the glowing red orb and sighed. Soon, she hoped, all this bloodshed might lead to something well worth it in the end.
Post 1 | 184 words
Viktor | Disciple
Viktor was, as always, patient. He could feel the restlessness of the other cultists and often marvelled at their simplicity. They were easily satisfied, but make them wait and they were like rabid dogs, chomping at the bit, ready for the kill. Viktor however rather preferred biding his time. The outcome was far more enjoyable and the results far messier then tearing a victim apart, limb from limb. He'd torn families apart, made brother fight brother and parents murder their own blood. He had gathered equines together, made them trust one another and then, slowly, one by one, make them hate each others guts. His corrupt blessing made it far more easier to achieve and when Viktor had the time, he'd begun testing the boundaries of it. How far could his whispers carry unsuspecting equines farther and farther away from the light? How many could he give, willingly, to Digend? How high could he travel up the hierachy before anyone would notice? He couldn't help but dream of all of the possibilities and that, is what it would take for him to be chomping at the bit just like everyone else. A hungry smile crawled across his features, sidling up alongside Fletcher, ears flicking towards the words of the kirin they had captured. "As many as it takes." He stated coldly, marvelling at the pure ignorance of the kirin's words. How they had not caught on yet to what they were doing marvelled Viktor. "As many as it takes to satisfy Digend." He repeated, staring off into the distance where the flicker of a camp fire could be seen. He smiled.
Post 1 | 271 words |
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Post by empyre on Jul 3, 2018 10:23:03 GMT -6
Sigyn || Scout Sigyn's amber eyes fluttered open as they heard Vidar moving away from the fire where they were laying. They had hoped she would take the time to rest, but as always their captain was restless even in the face of exhaustion. They considered standing and following her, but Alcippe beat them to it. They sighed, turning to face the fire once more, eyelids drooping again. At their side Fenrir shifted, the colt sleeping soundly by their side. Oh to be so unconcerned and free of burdens... They dipped their head down to nuzzle Fenrir's mane, burying their muzzle in their son's shaggy coat. They had never particularly thought they would make a good parent, but it seemed their own parents and uncle had blessed them with the instincts. Fenrir made a soft noise as he was stirred by their touch. "Hush little wolf, go back to sleep." They said, Fenrir yawned and snuggled closer into their side. Sigyn sighed, swinging their head around to watch Vidar and Alcippe through the fog. They felt for the first time since they were nothing but a starved foal, that they were lost. They loved their clan, they loved Vidar and the crew, but they loved Fenrir as well, and they could not be sure who they would choose if it came down to picking between any of them. post 1 || words: 245 |
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Post by VinnVonn on Jul 3, 2018 23:55:05 GMT -6
Sybil Lαѕт cαll ғor тнe ѕυɴdαy ѕqυαwѕ,
Aɴd тнere'ѕ ɴo rooм leғт ғor тнe нeм αɴd нαw.
We’ll ɢιve α ɢιғт loɴɢ overdυe, αɴd мαĸe α ѕυlтαɴ oυт oғ yoυ.
For the first time in a long while, Sybil was surrounded by other followers of Digend. The stallion tended to keep to himself or socialize with other travelers, whether it was for company or to toy with. However he kept his pious nature for the chaotic god under wraps, as much as he'd love to proselytize and preach, something chaos was easier to spread covertly.
Needless to say, the current conquest of the followers of Digend wasn't exactly Sybil's usual tactics. If it was what Digend wanted though, it was what they would get. Anything for his god. Anything. Which included a trail of chaos behind the group as well as prisoners in toe. The stallion trotted alongside some of the captive horses and took a moment to scan the group for any suspicious activity. Nothing yet, but he fully expected someone to break formation soon enough, it was inevitable. Sybil caught the face of a horse that looked spooked and unsure and smiled something syrupy at them. Too calm, too sweet to someone being held prisoner. They were part of history now, they should be happy. Not everyone appreciated the chaos of Digend, Sybil supposed.
Sybil snorted softly as his pace picked up toward the vantage point that other cultists were using and looked down onto the newest stop on their map. The fires burned bright against the darkness that bled across the landscape. "We should keep moving forward before it's to terribly dark." Sybil said firmly as he eyed the shadows in the distance against the dancing flames. "We could use a distraction though" |
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Post by SagaWolf on Jul 4, 2018 5:31:54 GMT -6
The divine, physical change which had overtaken Fletcher months ago had also loosened something in his mind, although it was difficult to pin it as new or simply the stallion showing true colours. It was difficult to tell with Fletcher, he seemed to always hide in one way or another, twist his words and gloss over true intentions. But the change had made him more... direct. Oh yes, it was still hard to tell exactly what went on behind those slit-pupil eyes, but one thing was as certain as always; He lived to do Digend's will, to served the Chaos God.
Rather than fall back and stick to the shadows as had been his usual ways, Fletcher had been much more active, loud and had challenged those who stood in his way. Suddenly brash and callous he took charge whenever possible, because he was, after all, Blessed by Digend.
His new tail swayed softly as Gemini came up next to him, followed by Viktor who answered the odd question. He was pleased with the answer and nodded slowly, while his green shimmering teke went over his gear, making sure everything was attached firmly to his body.
"Digend will let us know when the world had bled enough, though I suspect his hunger is endless, " he added softly. Sybil joined them and Fletcher gave a rumbling sound of agreement, sticking his chin out at the distant light in the fog.
"We will take that farm for Digend and rest well tonight, " he said loudly, tailswooshing as it cut through the air while a grin split his lips. "And I shall provide a most entertaining distraction, " he added just as his body began to take on that terrible blurry none-horse quality. His face faded into churning shapes and his body flickered, remaining equine just barely so. He slipped away from the Cult, content in the knowledge that they would hold the attack until he had circled the farm and scared the snot out of those War-turds.
Word count: 335 | Post: #1
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Post by hey-stardust on Jul 4, 2018 8:40:17 GMT -6
 VIDALIA | BLOODY FLANKS | RAIDER
Rise and fall, the tide surrounds us and drowns us all.
Vidalia nodded at her Captain's dismissal, moving swiftly to take up the space she had left. Alcippe too, shifted, and the unicorn's head tilted to return the brief, fleeting touch she gave as they brushed past one another; warm, but mute in her own greeting.
A slight weight was lifted from Vidalia's gut as the mare followed after Vidar, acutely aware that her thoughts often dwelled further and further from the vision she had once envisioned for them, but, as always, Vidalia was thoroughly unwilling to betray her own thoughts on the matter.
She was good with weapons, not words.
Despite having been replaced, she continued watching the horizon, one leg cocked and trying not to be drawn into the gleaming beacon that haunted Vidar's every waking step.
The farmlands seemed still, quiet, and then...
Vidalia stiffened, ears snapping sharply to attention and immediately summing a pocket of water to her side, molding it into a set of lethal like throwing knives; the firelight reflecting softly off their almost polished, sheen like surface.
"Get up, all of you, we're not alone." She growled in warning.
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note: vidalia has both blessings corrupted and maxed out.
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Post by LaBelleAnni on Jul 5, 2018 9:27:39 GMT -6
Kalei [will make pretty later] post #1
WC: 576
Standing to the far side of the group was a large albino zedonk, standing silently as she observed the village from afar like the rest had been doing. A dark, faded blue cloak laid across her body with the hood sitting against her withers, while a dark brown saddlebag sat against her back. The contents which sat inside were weapons and food on either side, always prepared for travel. Sitting on the side of the bag were two small hooks, holding up a worn silver lantern and a cream deer skull. Items meant for camping had all been left behind since this journey started, abandoning it for the ease of travel.
As she watched along her brethren, she noticed details in the town they had all been observing for some time. There seemed to be some movement, signaling that there in fact were beings wandering amongst themselves. From the looks of it they seemed calm, so it was easy to figure that they hadn’t seen the group hidden in the shadows. This was good. The group waited for time to pass, for the sun to fall lower. However the sun still hung in the sky, so this is what they all had to work with.
Many of the other cultists stood in wait, while some were antsy to cause trouble. She could tell from the looks on their faces and the shift in their step. What they lacked was patience for Digend, unable to wait for the opportune time to strike. One told that the watch was switched. They were keeping constant surveillance, yet another set back they all had to work around.
Kalei stood there with eerie silence, having not have said a word since they arrived. If she hadn’t spoken once or twice beforehand she could have passed off as a mute, one who was unable of speech. Instead she kept herself focused on the task at hand, leaving idle prattle up to the acquaintances that stood along with her.
The party started just when their talk was over, and the three eyed horse slipped away with his image flickering and warping in unnatural ways. This was only the beginning to their ceremonious end. The endless neutral, complacent expression had slowly changed with a slight smile tugging at her lip, one that rarely popped up. On this day these War-Forged scum would come to know that the day of reckoning would soon fall upon them.
Slowly her teke reached to the deer skull that hung on her saddlebag, moving to place it over her face. The bone mask shrouded all of her features except her eyes, with their dark circles and piercing red irises seeming like they could peer into one’s soul. Then, she moved to grab a long dagger from her bag, the weapon she loved to use even in her lonesome ventures to cleanse the earth of scum from Aodh and War-Forged. They all needed to die, and little by little she managed to kill lone wolves in the woods, though that would never be enough for Digend. Taking down town after town, however… this was close enough to appease him. For a moment she lowered her head, her eyes still kept on those that wandered in the village, as if to will the Chaotic One’s bidding upon them.
Digend, oh god of chaos. Hear me. Let us devour this land with your overwhelming power and send the nonbelievers to their doom.
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Post by data-bull on Jul 5, 2018 18:05:47 GMT -6
Rose
Rose listened patiently as the other Disciples spoke among themselves; the mix of excitement and indifference towards the next attack was the kind only the Cult could create. She looked to Odina, and responded with a heavy sigh.
"I suppose so."
As the first among them, a hybrid she'd learned was called Fletcher declared his intent to attack, she signaled for her familiar to follow. Handling the projectile that would serve to extinguish the pesky campfire in his talons, Thorn separated from her, attention fixed on the target. The mare's eyes glossed over as she took on the bird's vision. Through months of practice she'd managed to get on speaking terms with him, and relayed her instructions the best she could. A reward awaited him, so long as he did what he was told.
Now she looked on from above, the vulture's wings carrying him over the distance that stood between them and the camp, keeping pace with the faceless wraith below. He flew low, just enough to be obscured by the buildings as he approached the light. She could see the silhouettes of horses obscured in the fog, but only briefly as the bird closed in on his objective.
It happened quickly: Thorn flew up and over the gathering, dipping low just over their campfire to drop the package and douse the flames. Then he was off again, circling around the town to return to his master.
Rose blinked, cutting off the link and returning to her own mind. Nodding to herself in momentary satisfaction, she breathed a sigh of relief.
"Ready when you are, cousin.", she said, returning her attention to the mare beside her.
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Post by empyre on Jul 5, 2018 20:16:16 GMT -6
Sigyn || Scout Sigyn shot to their feet as soon as the fire was doused, Fenrir letting out a cry of surprise as he was suddenly jostled awake. "Up quickly little wolf," Sigyn said, urging the colt to his feet, "Stay close." They scanned the area, eyes straining in the newfound darkness. "Vidalia, what did you see?" they called out into the night, stepping to stand over Fenrir as their ears swiveled around rapidly. Every bone in their body screamed to protect their son with their life, but everything they had ever been taught, and thought, screamed at them to go out and find whoever it was who dared threaten their crew. "Frigga!" They called out, the golden eagle quickly swooping down to land on their shoulders, another set of eyes to watch for attackers; and a set of talons to defend them and Fenrir. They could see and hear the other Flanks who had been near the fire, now shadowy forms in the dark, but still the threat eluded their detection. "Sisi, what's happening?" Fenrir asked in a shaky whisper, to which Sigyn immediately ducked their head to press their muzzle lightly to his cheek, "All will be well, Fenrir," They said, "Just remain close to Sisi and Frigga." They hoped they would not be made a liar. post 2 || words: 216 |
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Post by fynli on Jul 6, 2018 21:14:26 GMT -6
= Odina =
2 | 257Red met gray and Odina nodded, rolling her shoulders.
“Let’s go then.”
Slipping through the fog, the mare set out on a trot first, gradually picking up her pace into a gallop. She circled around the perimeter, avoiding the two on guard. Once around them, she found her way into the village. Sticking to the shadows of the houses, she took the moment to observe those gathered outside around the once lit bonfire, her skin prickling at the tension in the air. The atmosphere felt charged, like the sky before a storm hit.
A smile cracked at her lips. War-Forged would never see them coming.
She expected the laughter of the other cultists to follow her, unsettling cackles filling the night as they laid waste to the village. It almost scared her to realize how much she enjoyed this as well.
Scanning the camp from the dark, her gaze landed on a smaller figure huddled over what she assumed was a foal. It seemed cheap but perhaps that was the more entertaining target. The bird would prove to be a different challenge though. Taking hold of her whip, Odina rushed in, letting the whip fly and snap sharply against the eagle. Its screech was satisfying, although she realized it would be a warning call for the other inhabitants.
Good. Let them flock.
She molded back into the shadows, waiting for another chance to strike. The foal was her priority, planning to separate them from their parent. All for the glory of chaos and her own personal vendetta.
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Post by data-bull on Jul 6, 2018 22:06:49 GMT -6
Rose
Hot on Odina's heels, Rose joined the fray, war hammer gripped tightly by her teke. She kept to the smaller mare's route, trusting in her cousin's Weather Witch training to keep them hidden. As Odina chose her target, the unicorn remained steady, taking note of those she could see. The Cult had numbers, and they had no fear. This camp would be their's tonight. And then they were off, as she watched her cousin surge from her side to engage the enemy.
A bird's cry rang out as Thorn returned to her, and she directed him towards the eagle who'd become acquainted with Odina's whip. The vulture eagerly changed course, talons outstretched in a bid to grab his opponent's wings. She would have joined him, but instead she turned to protect their backs.
Rose steeled herself for combat, and though shapes were difficult to discern in the dark and fog, the moon's light reflected on a Forged's knives caught her notice. She closed the distance between them, brandishing her own weapon as she raised it in an arc, swinging at where she thought the wielder would be.
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Post by Deleted on Jul 7, 2018 10:44:04 GMT -6
 vidar i know my limit but i'll push it Alcippe's presence was of course a warming beacon. Her quiet footsteps released some of the tension in Vidar's spine, and she quieted the blade at her side as her wife joined her, but did not sheathe it. The rare tenderness from Alcippe, however wry, melted Vidar instantly. Despite her inner turmoil, she pressed her side against Alcippe's, continuing the circuit around the camp perimeter with her eyes turned away from the darkness to focus on the conversation. With her lips in the soft hollow under Alcippe's neck, she sighed: "It's been a long winter."
Vidar's gleaming eye was turned to Alcippe, to the camp, when Fletcher emerged from the murk on her other side. It was Vidalia's sudden warning that snapped the Trespasser's Captain back into the present moment. Hooves thundered from the bottom of the hill as the camp was abruptly plunged into darkness. The confessional with Alcippe would have to wait.
Vidar tore herself away from her wife with a spinning rear, her sword twirling back into a ready position, her ghastly gaze scanning the approaching bedlam. The threat of danger always made Vidar her most effective self. Her harsh Onean accent barked over the chaos: "Shields!" she warned; it was a matter of time before Hira's men found them. The War-Forged had no chance of taking this camp from the Flanks, but they were welcome to try.
For a brief instant, she locked eyes with Dove; the taciturn Flank had been even more quiet since their push into Onea, and she looked anxious as the situation escalated. Seeing Dove was armed and moving toward the relative safety in the camp's center, Vidar nodded at her in what she hoped to be a gesture of reassurance. A captain was supposed to be a source of strength for their crew; it was a role Vidar suddenly realized she'd been neglecting.
She stepped into her dramatic character with sudden bravado: "Rhuarc! Get the children inside!" Her youngest brother, barely 14, scrambled to his hooves and stumbled towards Fenrir and the twins, wide eyes on Sigyn as he tried to pull Fenrir to cover. "Raiders, close the perimeter!" The Flanks had the high ground. With a tight enough front line, they would keep it. Her gaze found a form in the darkness, but it was hard to focus on. The silhouette roiled and shifted as it approached, and Vidar squared her stance, her back to the the darkened campsite. "Let's skin the bastards!" It was beginning to feel a bit like the good old days.
The stranger became harder to look at the closer it got, and Vidar's stomach knotted up with dread. She didn't know what the monster was, but she knew she had to kill it. "That one's mine." Her quiet comment was directed at no one in particular, but the air around her cracked with red sparks as she gathered the energy to wield her Reality Manipulation. She galloped to intercept the phantom shape, blocking its path with her swinging saber. 480-something words | post 2 TL;DR: vidar feels bad for not being a very good leader and starts acting like a pirate captain again characters mentioned: - talks to alcippe - responds to vidalia's alarm - tells rhuarc (npc) to get fenrir, snilf and trilf (npcs) into the farmhouse - looks at dove for .02 seconds - gets ready to 1v1 fletcher |
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Post by unifangs on Jul 7, 2018 14:56:45 GMT -6
Dove hears the warning and she immediately tenses. She takes her tightbow tightly in her teke and both of her ears pin back against her skull. Her anxiety and discomfort at her surroundings shifts its focus and she grits her teeth. For a moment she glances at Vidar, catching the gesture from the captain. Dove returns the gesture. Vidar has gotten them all this far and has yet to let them down. Dove is never one for blind trust, but she knows that a skirmish against Hira’s men is nothing new.
Dove carefully loads her crossbow and then scans with her ears and eyes. She then moves towards the left and doesn’t waste time with pinazz or bravado(she’ll leave it to those far more capable such as her captain) and then scans the hillside for shapes in the moonlight. May the eyes of Digend guide my arrow, she sends her quiet prayers and then launches the bolt into the darkness and hopes that it might strike home. They’ve made it this far, Dove has no intentions of letting herself fall so early on.
Post: 2 WC: 183 kept vague on her attack intentionally, didn't have a specific target so she can just hit a tree or something if no one wants to get hit hasudiasd |
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Post by hey-stardust on Jul 7, 2018 21:00:06 GMT -6
VIDALIA | BLOODY FLANKS | RAIDER
Rise and fall, the tide surrounds us and drowns us all.
Vidalia barely had the chance to gather her bearings - let alone respond to Sigyn - before the flames were doused, and the swing of a rogue hammer brought her crashing down. The weapon collided hard with her shoulder, bone shuddering beneath the weight. She felt something shift within her from the impact…
but now wasn’t the time to look over battle wounds.
The unicorn’s thoughts were fractured by the sudden pain, her ready-made knives melting and falling away as her concentration lapsed. Still, she scrambled to regain her feet again; staggering with teeth gritted, aware that a downed horse was as good as a dead one.
Whipping her head around to find her aggressor, she bared her teeth as hoar frost began to pour from her gaping mouth, making her look feral, wild; dropping the temperature down around her and coating the ground in a thin layer of rime.
Spying her mark, she sent out a shot of water straight towards their knees, warping and twisting it into deadly sharpened spears of ice seconds before it met its target.
As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she then recognised her aggressor.
Rose.
“TRAITOR!” She bellowed.
2 | 196
note: vidalia has both blessings corrupted and maxed out.
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Post by LaBelleAnni on Jul 7, 2018 23:01:02 GMT -6
Kalei [will make pretty soon]
Prepared for the fight to begin, she watched as the others began to flock in and fight, distracting the warriors and attacking them all at once. Meanwhile, she held back momentarily to watch and wait for an opening. Her eyes narrowed when they focused on a bright white coat in the darkness, almost seeming like a beacon. Standing so still, she observed how still the pale mare was, holding an object that was most likely a weapon. Soon after she made this accusation, it was proven right. Something had whistled right by her side, grazing against her skin and cutting open a hole into her bag. Curiously she looked down to see her shoulder had blood welling up where it had flown past, as well as food that began to drop out of the bag. It was quite close, and at that very moment, she figured that through the darkness the mare must have seen her.
Whether that was the case or not, she turned her head to Gemini calmly, her gaze peering through the mask that clouded the rest of her features. A soft yet strict tone rolled from her tongue, one that withheld crossed meanings. While it was to be an order, it almost sounded like a persuaded request. "Gemini, distract the pale one. I will return." Without another beat, she turned on her heel, sticking along the treeline to case around to a weaker point, all while giving time for her assistant to do as told, or more if Digend willed that.
By the time the zedonk viewed the pale mare's side from the far left, she began to walk calmly out through the brush, just before picking up into a sprint and barreling towards the smaller mare. The others were busy with their share of the fight, and so she took this as an opportunity to focus on her target. Her cloak flapped against her, while a quiet clattering could be heard, made by the hornless bone mask hitting against her horns. Thundering across the plains contrasted against the softer sounds as she approached the cremello with the intention to knock her down, her head meanwhile bowing to bare to full force of the attack, while her blood red eyes were trained directly on her target. ||WC: 376
TLDR;
-first sits back to watch
-gets nicked with an arrow, very unphased and unpleased
-tells Gemini to distract Dove
-goes around to attack Dove from the side
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Post by MusicalMagpie on Jul 8, 2018 19:20:03 GMT -6
Mary | Mercenary
It felt like an eternity to the captive unicorn. Standing, waiting for someone to do something. She could only hear the murmurings of the Cultists and whimpering from tired prisoners. All eyes seemed to be on the hill. Shit hit the fan quickly. There was the screeching of a bird and suddenly Cultists started peeling off in different directions. Mary stuck her head down and gripped the prayer idol tighter. She could hear things whizzing through the air and planting in the dirt. Looking about at the moving shapes she started weighing her options. She could try running, not a good idea at the moment, she'd easily be spotted.
The idea of charging the hill with the rest of them started to sound more appealing. During her captivity the red unicorn had done no work and let frustrations build up. A little outlet to clear the mind. That's all this was. She felt her youth creep back in under her skin like insects making her itch for a fight. Mary took off like a runaway plow. Her head low and lunging up toward the hill, she mentally dared something to cross her path. Word Count - 193 oops that's small she's just fuckin running up there because she ain't too smart right now |
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Post by Ehrendi on Jul 12, 2018 19:25:12 GMT -6
Faraji | Bloody Flank Medic
Vidalia's shout of alarm filled the night air, turning Faraji's insides cold as she hurried to her hooves. "Who?" Faraji began to speak, but the words died as a shadow flitted through the darkness. Not just one though, there were many. "Nettle, to me." She barked towards her little white weasel who scurried towards her from the smouldering campfire. Faraji scooped the weasel up, stuffing her in the saddle bag she wore. She spotted the Rhuarc herding the foals into a nearby farm house and seeing as Faraji was blessing-less and not nearly as suited for battle as those around her, she began to head towards the farmhouse with them. At the very least she should be able to protect the foals. All around her shadows moved, forming into dark, menacing equines. Each wielding a weapon or blessing as they ran to attack the Flanks. Faraji felt her frustration growing, as well as her fear. She wasn't entirely unarmed and had reached for her dagger when a cold voice called to her from the darkness of the farmhouse. "Rhuarc?" She called, knowing full well that wasn't the voice of the young flank. The voice was far too deep, and far to enticing. She could feel herself being drawn to it, her mind closing off from the fear, from the battle raging around them until all that was left was his voice.
Post 2 | 178 words
Viktor | Disciple
Viktor didn't rush head-first into the fray as the others did. Combat was not his strong suit and he didn't fancy injurying himself when he could easily be doing Digend's work another way. Quietly he headed through the forest, looping around the camp and heading towards one of the first buildings he could see, a small farm house of which a couple of young equines had just entered. He couldn't quite believe his luck, but then again he wasn't charging head-long into a bloody battle. Those foals were young enough to mould, it would be easy to persuade them to join the cult, not that they would have a choice. Viktor moved closer to the farmhouse, keeping a careful eye on the battle at hand. He'd nearly reached the farmhouse's door when he saw a figure coming towards him. Viktor tensed, ready to run, when he saw the mare was not armed like the others. How intriging. "Do not be afraid," he called, his words laced with the blessing he had recieved from Digend himself. "I will not harm you, nor the occupants within this building." He smiled in a friendly manner. "In fact, I've come to help you."
Post 2 | 199 words
Faraji runs towards the farmhouse where Rhuarc, Fenrir, Snilf and Trilf are but is intercepted by Viktor. (Don't mind me rping both of my characters together skjfdns)
Viktor has a corrupt blessing (Level 2)
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Post by posy-punch on Jul 13, 2018 8:10:00 GMT -6
The Gemini narrowed their eyes to slits at Viktor's words, a tone similar to incredulity or disdain belying his smile. The kirin remained silent, waiting for the cultists to turn their attention once more to the camp. Andromeda felt her smile grow as well, though Carina again voiced concern. This was not their god. Not their fight.
They continued to watch, even as Fletcher devolved into a mass of shadows, the monstrosity galloping off to create a distraction. Even as he did so, Gemini watched as the bird took flight, disappearing. The firelight in the distance went out only a few moments later. The Gemini remained still, watching, waiting even as the others moved forward to attack. Andromeda may have wrestled control of the body, but Carina remained waiting for the moment to drag dominance from her sister.
It was the command, phrased to sound like a request, but in tone and intent that distracted Andromeda. The Gemini's pride welled up and it scoffed. Who were they to be commanded by the footsoldiers of an army. Both sisters, in accord, ignored the zedonk and turned their attention elsewhere. Combat wasn't for them. Not now, they finally decided. Not when the sisters could not agree, when Carina was constantly attempting to wrestle control, and likewise for Andromeda.
So they did what they did best (though they couldn't have remembered what it was like back then).
They set things on fire. The kirin was quick to find themselves a torch and they were quick to run in the direction of the farm homes. Gemini watched curiously as Viktor intercepted one of those from inside the camp. They were quick to dart past, the torch blazing like a warning.
Those inside the camp had already begun to hold up a line, intimidating but ultimately futile against such a bloodlusty, chaotic force. The Gemini respected them, to some extent, that they did not flee nor throw themselves down to imprisonment. Andromeda and Carina both felt the pang of longing; the interest in returning to their journey. Still, it wasn't enough to stop them from reveling in the small joys for now.
The Gemini brought their torch to one of the low hanging roofs, waiting for the fire to blaze to light before moving on to find another target.
2 | 386
TLDR; Gemini fucked off from whatever Kalei and Dove are doing and is now setting things on fire!! Feel free to intercept.
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Post by VinnVonn on Jul 13, 2018 23:55:23 GMT -6
Sybil Lαѕт cαll ғor тнe ѕυɴdαy ѕqυαwѕ,
Aɴd тнere'ѕ ɴo rooм leғт ғor тнe нeм αɴd нαw.
We’ll ɢιve α ɢιғт loɴɢ overdυe, αɴd мαĸe α ѕυlтαɴ oυт oғ yoυ.
Without missing beat, members of the cult began to mobilize. Sybil smirked to himself as Fletcher took on a horrifying shape for a distraction and Rose’s bird companion put out what light the other party of horses had. The sun was fleeting, the fog was thick enough, it evened their odds despite their enemies having the advantage of higher ground.
It certainly helped that the cult moved around the field sporadically in this case. Though Sybil thought there was a place for at least some strategy in the chaos. Certain horses went one way toward the hill, other’s went around, some went toward the town. The stallion squinted slightly as he pulled a throwing knife out of his saddlebag with his teke, he had a few stacked up out of the path the cult had carved so far through Onea. The snorted and trotted down the hill as others ran past him, tracking them as long as he could in his peripherals before they disappeared.
He watched the best he could for an opening. In a burst, one of the disciples charged straight toward one of the other horses seemingly out of nowhere. A good chance for a distraction once again Sybil broke into a full out gallop toward Kalei and Dove. He curved hard around the potential crash about to happen and dug his hooves hard into the ground before he whipped around. One of his few throwing knives snapped through the air in an attempt to make the attack on Dove a one-two punch, given his aim was right.
TL:DR -Sybil has a few throwing knives -Tries to get a cheap hit on Dove while she's maybe distracted -Hopefully doesn't hit Kalei, gg sybil -obvs it can hit no one too! |
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Post by data-bull on Jul 14, 2018 1:15:37 GMT -6
Rose
Body and mind came to a screeching halt when the ice pierced her skin and sunk its blades into her knees. Staggering backwards, her eyes saw red; she could tough it out, she convinced herself while injured legs threatened to buckle beneath her own weight. Then Rose heard the voice of her opponent, and she snapped to attention. Though their surroundings still obscured the owner's form, she recognized her immediately.
Vidalia.
Rather than send back a snappy retort, she was bewildered by the Bloody-Flank's presence.
"Vidalia?", the Disciple said, eyes darting between the shadows around them, "Then does that mean–"
And she may have called out to Vidar, if the memory of her unplanned departure from their number wasn't the first thing to flash through her thoughts. He would not be happy to see her. Instead, she whistled for Thorn to join her, the bird's wings buffeting the air as she stepped back away from the angry mule, calling out to the only other there that horse she could trust in such a mad situation.
"Odina!", Rose shouted into the empty void behind her, "They're not Forged, they're Flanks!"
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Post by SagaWolf on Jul 14, 2018 9:51:27 GMT -6
It was truly a glorious sight. Watching the calm campsite erupt into confusion and panic as the fire was doused, while Fletcher's abdominal form came sneaking through the darkness. The cultists weren't known to plan and he hadn't really expected them to sit back for long. This was the nature of Digend after all and it was wonderful to hear the distant drum of hooves approaching, along with the cackling laughter of the Cultists. The poor War Forged wouldn't know what had hit them, their warriors would soon be dead and their working-class roped into the Cultist army. Or disposed of.
Fletcher's attention was soon caught by a red light appearing to move in his direction. A confusing sight which had him slow down for a moment until his eyes could adjust and catch the light bouncing off of a face. That glowing orb was... an eye? The red light illuminated a partially equine face, and as the attacker continued to barrel his way, swinging what he could now make out to be a weapon in the dark, Fletcher decided that this had to be another equine.
He wasted no time pondering the odd glowing orb, no matter how attention-grabbing it was, because it belonged to a sabre-wielding War Forged whose corpse he could, and would, inspect later.
"A gift for you, Digend! " he hissed darkly as he brought up his dagger to deflect the arch of the saber, didn't slow his pace but aimed to slam his hard, scaled shoulder into the Forged horse. He'd knock them off their feet and crush them under his new, cloven hooves, that was his plan. A personal, messy kill.
Word count: 277 | Post: #2
OOC: Fletcher happily charges Vidar, trying to body slam her. |
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Post by fynli on Jul 15, 2018 23:51:35 GMT -6
= Odina =
3 | 262Odina watched from the shadows as the children took cover, muscles tensing ready to spring towards her original target - when she saw Rose buckle from the corner of her eye. “Rose!” She called, forgetting her mission. Twisting on her heels, she ran to Rose’s side, her lips twisting back into a cold snarl as she stared into the shadows. Making out a form in the darkness, she barely registered the bellow that emitted as she charged towards it.
The situation felt all too familiar as she barreled into the side of Rose’s attacker. The dull pain in her shoulder went unnoticed as she threw her weight into knocking her opponent over, readily preparing to slit their belly. She’d practiced. She was ready. Her dagger lifted from its sheath, red teke ready to slice flesh.
A sharp pain in her leg pulled her focus from continuing her attack, pulling back with a harsh cry. Fire bloomed through her muscles yet melted as the ice softened in contact with heated skin. Dropping her dagger, she limped back, gritting her teeth through the pain. Through the fog, Rose’s voice reached her ears and she turned to look back at the other mare, furrowing her brow in confusion. Flanks?
Horror dawned on her as she turned back to the horse she’d attacked, recognizing the geode horn. Oh god. Oh gods no.
Odina fished for her dagger and stumbled back, feeling idiotic as she hurriedly limped back to Rose. “What are Flanks doing so far south?” She hissed to her cousin, refusing to look back at Vidalia.
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Deleted Member
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Post by Deleted on Jul 17, 2018 14:59:48 GMT -6
vidar The bedlam that erupted around Vidar didn't immediately draw her focus. As her crew fell in against the Shields, she stood her ground, watching the flash of her opponent's iron scales in the amorphous darkness of their form. A kirin? A monster? She wasn't sure; it would die regardless. The flickering flash of a dagger knocked Vidar's blade from its course but she recovered quickly, dropping as she saw the much larger horse swing her way. Vidar dropped low, chest nearly touching the ground, as Fletcher's weight swung her way.
In a tangle of limbs (as her unusual maneuvering and the beast's balance re-centered), the pair righted themselves, and the shape's words registered in Vidar's mind after a brief delay. Digend? Her god? How could that be?
Her gaze wandered as Vidalia's voice rose over the din once more. There were women, savages, even creatures she couldn't recognize among the enemy forces. These weren't Shields at all. Vidalia's hoarse cries and the shout of a familiar name drew Vidar's attention and she took several shuffling steps backwards from her opponent, saber at the ready to hold the shape at bay. Something was happening on the other side of the battlefield.
With a crackle of red sparks, Vidar harnessed her holy blessing, and wrenched the air before her. In an instant, a sphere of daylight appeared around them at the hilltop, plunging the scene into the vibrant light of a summer afternoon and bringing the mysteries of their encounter into perfect focus.
Vidar stood at the sphere's center, breathless and holding the scene together with visible strain.
post 3 | 266 words |
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