W A R S H I P
i'm on the wrong side of heaven, and the righteous side of hell
He had been right not to underestimate the lamb.
In the spot where the lamb had disappeared came that silence once more, that deafening stillness that made each part of his body ache. It was like being at the bottom of the ocean, only the waves had ceased and the water was made of lead. But as quickly as it started it was over, and once more through the mire came the creature of sevens. He was dimly aware of the other horses around him (all ages, all rankings, from each corner of their lands) but he was acutely aware of the lambs eyes on him. He felt them (all seven of them) on his soul, on his magically beating heart that now thudded almost painfully against his ribs. Before he could open his mouth though, the lamb stepped forward, and it was only then that he noticed its feet. Ancient stones lay scattered on the ground, their markings as foreign to him as the lamb itself. But something, instinct perhaps, tells him that they are important.
He had almost decided to speak up, to ask the lamb what in the hell it wanted, when the air around him exploded. Instinctively he lowers his head, hopefully to allow the broad base of his horns to absorb the impact while shielding his delicate head. His eyes are pinched shut, his ear laid flat, while his lips curled over his teeth in a fierce grimace of pain and confusion. Despite his efforts he feels the shrapnel pierce his skin but there is no time to think of petty flesh wounds. They would bleed and heal and surely he had felt worse at the hooves and teeth of his fellow equine. He would at least cling to that notion, for it was familiar to him, and he needed familiarity here more than ever before.
When he dared to open his eyes, he saw nothing unusual. Through the settling dust he watched his fellow equines, clearly as shaken as he was though some perhaps more visibly so. It had taken him years to craft a warriors iron façade, and he found himself hiding behind it now. The only thing that betrayed him was the glimmering sheen on sweat on his neck and shoulders and the quick rise and fall of his barrel. The lamb is gone, but in its place came a vile laughter. It burned his ears and his mind, and once again he snarled, shaking his head as if to clear flies. But unlike flies the laughter does not leave but instead grows louder. He lashes at the ground in frustration as the anxious sweat flowed down his ribcage.
“Conquestttt”
He heard it like the hiss of a snake; something sinister, something to be feared and avoided. He heard the hiss in the grass too, and he shifted uncomfortably. The voice seemed to be only in his mind and it was asking something of him. “Kneel soldier” it hissed, invading ever crevice of his mind. Perhaps he should- but would it save them? “No” growled a deeper voice, one he was accustomed to. “Be their hero boy…kneel, and I’ll leave them. Refuse, and they die. I’ll be sure to do the pretty spotted Chamber princess first.” sneered the voice. Without moving his eyes darted around, and he knew a twinge of panic when he laid eyes on the spotted filly. Something inside of him steeled, and instead of kneeling (though his knees had begun to buckle) he stared into those putrid yellow eyes and growled “Fuck you.”
He cannot, will not bring himself to help the rotten thing. Every instinct he had screamed at him that nothing good could come from obeying the wishes of it.
There is no time to think much though, because Conquest had brought friends. Legions of foul beasts crawled forward, drooling sliding from their mouths, their eyes shining at the promise of a feast. Warship readied himself, straining to remember the years and years of training he had under his proverbial belt. before he can think though, they all sprang into action. Some went left, some went right, and to his surprise some went towards Conquest, the Amazonian queen included. If there had been anyone here that he would have allied himself it would have been the Iron Mare but alas, she was doing something he would not. He would not help that festering bastard get free. One mare seems to have taken it upon herself to help Conquest with something other than strength. Had he been able to vomit he would have done so as he watched that festering bastard slide over the hips of a living mare. Thankfully (perhaps an odd word) he is distracted by a scream of fear.
“WARSHIP!” the voice screamed and he whirled in a panic to find it. There! There on the ground laid the princess, cowering as a slobbering bear bored down on her and a new mare, one the color of the night sky. The mare aimed a fierce kick at the bear, shattering its orbital socket. Both mares scampered off, but he knew better. A wounded beast was a dangerous beast, and it didn’t take long for the bear to come to. It spotted him, roaring loud enough to make him pin his ears. A scream of rage left his own throat and he plunged forward, slamming into the bear with the force of a runaway train. Sleek black hair met matted brown fur for a brief moment before he clamped his blunt teeth down on the scruff of the bear. While his teeth weren’t sharp like a carnivores, they could deliver a fatal bite if they were placed correctly. The bear roared in pain and fury and jerked, but he had already let go. There was no time to see if he had killed the beast; there was only the seals and the princess.
She yelled again and he surged forward, dodging around the various horses and their intentions. Before he could reach her though, a snake stood up from the grass, hissing and spitting. It struck and he dodged, though he felt the fangs graze his flanks. Immediately the area festered and swelled but he paid it little heed. No time, no time, is all that kept him moving. She was just ahead, and surely he could get there. She had a shard it seemed, so that left him to get one of his own. There! In front of the princess lay another shard, while the other piece was under her foot. He leapt forward, grunting slightly as his chest brushed the hindquarters of another horse. But it hadn’t been just any horse; it was Conquest. Immediately his head felt strange, his vision blurred and his breaths more panicked than ever before. But the shard lay ahead and he had to get to it. Panting heavily he fought the urge to succumb to the pain, for his chest had erupted in great boils the size of pears. They felt something like fire and poison all wrapped into one and were not just superficial. They reached into the layer of muscle beneath, rotting it as well. At the edge of his blurred vision a mare stepped forward, that same night sky winged mare he’d seen before. She seemed to be guarding the shard for him, and as he stepped forward he gave her a half-hearted smile. “Thank you.” he choked, before his great body hit the ground, momentarily giving in to the pain. As he crashed several of the boils erupted, and he was hard pressed to choke down a scream of pain. Growling, he struggled to his feet, pus oozing down the front of his legs and the blood from the snake bite flowed down his flank. As he was doing to another joined them, a young stallion. Warship gave him a brief nod, shivering slightly from the pain surging through his body. “Fuck this, and fuck Conquest.” he spat, stepping forward and onto the shard that the girls had saved for him.
warship
* Warship tried killing the bear by biting down onto the back of its neck after Cinzia had kicked it. On his way to Weaver he was bitten by a giant snake, and something in the poison of the snake keeps the bites bleeding. He brushed into Conquest and now as a staph infection on his chest. He is currently standing on the shard the girls saved for him.