i'm on the wrong side of heaven, and the righteous side of hell
Kingdom visits. Not exactly his forte, but a necessity he supposed. After all, he held a high ranking position in his kingdom. Though their numbers were sparse, they were working steadily towards changing that. Just recently he’d been greeted by an unknown mare as he crept along the borders, and he couldn’t help but hope that she would stay. Certainly another female would please Straia; she often complained about the overwhelming amounts of testosterone in her kingdom.
His son had left ahead of him, and though he could have caught up easily, he decided to hang back. Of course he kept a watchful eye on the boy, but he made his mind up not to interfere unless it was needed. Erebor was the promise that the Chamber would return to their former glory, and he shouldered that knowledge like the warrior he was. Generations of his blood were fighters, from the panther shifting Atrox, to the ruthless Amazonian blood. He was, truly, a prince.
It takes him no time to find the Deserts. The heat becomes more unbearable, the vegetation more sparse. His lip curls slightly- he wasn’t a fan of the heat. He preferred the mist of his forest home, and the cold mountain streams. But he had told Straia he would come, so here at last he was. His sons scent is still on the breeze and he tracks it like a bloodhound, though his hoof prints in the sand have blown away. The old warrior finds his son, unsurprised to find a pair of mares have beat him to it. A strange creature frolics through the sands, and Warship can feel the tingle of magic in the air. As he is a product of magic himself (his life, anyways) it is not hard for him to feel it. It comes from the black mare with the strange eyes he thinks, though he isn’t entirely sure. They are all speaking as he steps to his sons side, a mirror albeit older image of the young colt. The only thing setting them apart is the infinity symbol glowing against his broad, scarred chest. “I seem to be late to the party.” he says simply, a handsome smile curving his lips. He dips his intricate head to the mares, letting his smile be thrown to them in turn. “I’m Warship, General of the Chamber.” He does not know the state of their army, but he would like to. He’d been swirling some ideas around in his brain, and if the Deserts agreed to hold their treaty with the Chamber, then he was eager to have them join in.
warship
ooc- ew. this is just ew.