"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
BROTHER, LET ME BE YOUR FORTRESS, WHEN THE NIGHT WINDS ARE DRIVING ON.
I CAN BE THE ONE TO LIGHT YOUR WAY; I WILL BRING YOU HOME.
He has been quiet. Too quiet, even. The dreary lull of winter had drawn him in, pulled him close and held onto him tightly. The bristling, icy winds and thick blankets of downy snow always induce a unique type of hibernation, tucked deeply within the recesses of the mountains. He savors the frost and frigid ice - it has become a part of him; it has merged with his blood and it seeps into his sinewy muscle and bone. Even the warmth of the sun cannot penetrate the permafrost that has settled within him, and so he remains cold - so very cold, so much of the time.
Though his marred flesh is covered in a thick sheen of ice, he moves seamlessly through the now melting slush that coats the thriving terrain beneath him. While the sun offers little comfort to him, it manages to peek from behind thick, overbearing clouds to shine upon the heavy layers of frost, causing gentle trickles and streams to cross the valley. His darkened red eyes observe the inevitable change that takes place with each rolling season, and he finds himself at ease with the change. While it will no longer be of comfort to him, it will be of comfort to the men, women and children that reside within their borders - and that alone is enough to satisfy him.
His thick, brawny legs propel him along the sloping side of a hilltop, and gingerly, he shakes his heavy cranium of the flakes of snow that remained tangled within his matted tresses. He casts a long glance over the reviving terrain, his icy heart aglow with a pride of his own. Loyalty is sparse and across the land, it is quiet - though war had ended long ago, it still remained within the minds of many, the causalities and devastation of it had not yet faded away. Having lived over a century, he knew that it never would - that thriving landscapes would only do so with the promise of another war, with the stirring of another feud.
The heart may claim to refute violence, but the willpower for dominance is always much stronger.
It is only a matter of time until trouble brews yet again, and there is a sinking feeling within the pit of his stomach that it may come all to soon. Though he has had little dealings with many of the Kingdoms, he had little desire to extend the gesture; and neither did they. He had heard enough of Vanquish and Lagertha and their hot-headed ways and wanted little to nothing to do with either of them or their allies, should they share the same views.
He preferred to settle upon peace, to function without the promise of shed blood on behalf of his children. Though previous Kings before him had embraced a pact fueled by the trade of their own daughters for their sons, he would not uphold such an idea. Perhaps the sweat-entrenched Amazonian jungle idealized such unethical, violent means to an end, he did not and would not. If that offended any, so be it. He could not care less for their insolence.
Instead, he had settled an alliance with the valley Queen and chamber King, forging something stronger and more promising for the otherwise dismal future that lie ahead. Though change has been difficult for the many that are set in their ways, he had found two kindred spirits that sought to turn things towards a new direction. It was enough to stir hope within him, though he knew naught what it would bring.
Alas, with a loud bellow, he calls for the men, for the women and for the children alike. While it may be a land of masculinity, the many females that have settled within his land deserve to know what is simmering beneath the surface, and have a say in it as well - he would break the mold in more ways than one this icy morning.
"Men, women! Gather! It has been some time since we have all met, and even longer since we have all come together as one. As many of you know, I have led differently than many previous Kings. I see you as equals, male and female, coming together for the greater good. I see many of you as companions - as family. It is time now that we tear away the bindings of our ancestors and move towards something bigger than ourselves."
He breathes deeply now, observing the many faces that stand before him. With a solemn expression and a meaningful gaze, he continues. "As of today, as of this moment, the Tundra is no longer a land for men alone - but for all of us. Our ranking system will be refined; our intentions shifted. Men and women alike will work together and function, as any other Kingdom, to move forward as one. I seek your loyalty, and to find out where you wish to be. Whether you desire to remain a resident or seek presence in our ranks, speak now. Welcome to the new age. Welcome, to the Tundra."
OFFSPRING
the ice king of the tundra
Male, female, child - all please reply. It doesn't have to be a mile-long post; simply join in!
Each player only needs to reply with one character, if you have multiple (say, if you have a female and foal).
There is much to discuss and much change to come!
The Tundra is no longer a bachelor land - but an all-encompassing kingdom for all genders. Welcome to the new age.
Change sits heavy on pyro's heart. He came to the Tundra, the land of his father, as an explorer and a learner. He wanted to know all he could about the formidable man and the kingdom he took without asking. He wanted to stand in his hoof prints, to look over the ice and snow he once held for himself. Pyro wanted it all, he wanted to roll it between his palms and smell it - up close and personal.
Most of all, he wanted to chose.
On one side of the coin was his choice to follow in his fathers footsteps and become like him. He knew of the man's personality, it brimmed beneath the surface of his own, threatening to catch fire and light them all like flash paper.
On the other hand he could reject the man and his harsh ways, suppress the desires to be cold and unreasonable and simply be himself. Was that not the great fight of man? To lend yourself to your desires, or to break free from them?
He is ever brewing as a volcano set to erupt - but erupt how? For greatness? Or for glory?
The meeting is a jumping off point for him, and he simply shows up, his mouth a flat line of noncomittance. Who's he to say this way is good, or wrong? He only knows that his father is rolling in his grave in tiny pieces.
pyroclast.
she was on fire last night / and i was breathing gasoline
Thanata, like the other horses of the kingdom, had heard Offspring's call. She had headed for it, knowing he might have something important to say. Being around so many horses did still make her nervous though, so when she arrived at the meeting site, she stuck to the cover of the trees, using her dark coat to blend into the shadows as she listened to the king's words.
She was a bit shocked that he was going to make such a big change. She'd originally heard this was a bachelor kingdom; would others here be upset that he was changing things so dramatically? Thanata really didn't have a preference about that. In fact, she was glad he was willing to change things, to give others a better chance. Not that she would leap up and jump into action right now, to try and take a rank in the kingdom, since she was still getting used to things.
Thanata decided, for now, she would remain quiet. The mare slipped back under full cover of the trees before heading out to be on her own, deciding she would think about maybe one day having a rank among the kingdom. For now though, she was fine with remaining anonymous. She'd stick to the background, to the shadows, until she felt she was ready to try and be a new horse.
It has been quite some time since he watched the ice-sheathed King wander across his path, not because Offspring had been missing but because the Tundra was so vast and wide; the unknown took up more than the known. It is also no surprise to our floppy-ear man that he doesn't know either of the two who have already headed the large stallion's call.
The black stallion was not well-educated in diplomacy but he could sense a feeling of unrest in the King, perhaps his intuitive nature surpassed his twin, and so he is quick to slip in by Offspring's side - a small dip of the head his direction. "Forgive me, I've been training for mocks with the Chamber so I've been a little preoccupied...I'm Vaughan, what's your names?" he asks to the green embellished fellow and the quiet mare. Vaughan was typically much more brash or had been in the past but something had recently changed in him, he felt a sense of purpose and thus got his shit (mostly) together. "Offspring, I trust your decision on this and do not object but I do have concerns - our winters are long, our summer short, are we going to seek to expand our borders to a place that has more to....offer?" he isn't sure how well this would be taken, his first thought is he can bring his twin sister home with him; where she belongs, under his watch. His second thought is really more important - how will ensure that she is fed in the winter amongst the other influx of women and children? How will they protect them in the event of a raid or raping of their women? All concerns of Vaughan's - all stemmed from his visions in the cave.
"With your permission, I'd like to set out before nightfall to find my twin sister; she belongs here, with me - with us."
Ianto had heard Offspring's call, heard the rumble of his King's voice and had immediately taken to the skies to find him. He had a good idea as to where he would be and headed to the known open area where generations had gathered before them. And so when he landed there is only a few of them there, no sign of the few familiar faces that he had seen around, at least not yet. Offspring's words make his ears flicker and his mind goes blank for a long moment as he tries to process what Offspring had just done.
And then he laughs, a loud laugh, that perhaps echoes in the quiet after Offspring's words. There were those he knew that would be angry over the change. There were those that would leap with joy, but only time would tell as to whether it was an improvement or not. "Well done Offspring. Well done." He says bumping shoulders with the King. "This will shake things up a little bit. I wish I had thought of it when I was King." And then there is a smile while he meets the larger stallion's eyes. After that brief moment of informality, he steps away and back, allowing who ever else to approach that might wish to.
---------------------------------------------
Lieschel hears her father's call. Hears that this is more of a kingdom meeting than a family meeting from the announcing tone of his voice. A small smile curls her lips and she moves quickly across the soggy ground to him. Her ears flicker when she hears his words and a stone settles itself in her stomach. Now Nevi would never want to leave, never want to be away from the family and Argo. Now they would bring the foals here to live amongst the cold of the Tundra.
She sees her plans to leave go up in smoke.
But none of this shows on her face, she is carefully blank as she watches her father and the different reactions so far. There is another mare but not one she is familiar with....really none of them were, not even the stallion who bumped her father like they were well acquainted. Instead she makes a smile curl her lips and she goes to her father and touches her lips to his neck. She says nothing only smiles at him and then settles at his other side, curling up against his warmth.
They come. Off course they come, just like all the others. Father and daughter are side by side, his other half is absent however. When Offspring’s call had echoed across the Tundra he hadn’t set of in his king’s direction right away. First he had gone to the cave he knew Roan had found her shelter in. Ever since the birth of their daughter – last year spring – she had been weak, tired and sickish. Brynmor knew Roan was strong, but it worried him nonetheless. Yes she was quite delicate and scarred, but she held a power that others could learn from. It pained him to see her like this and there simply was no way that he would force her to come out and join the meeting Offspring had called for. And he knew his friend would understand.
So he had taken Igni to accompany him, after all, their king had called together all those who lived in the Tundra, and not only the brotherhood. Therefor Igni was to join too. Brynmor figured it would be a good way to introduce his daughter to the others. He wasn’t sure who else she had already met since her birth last year, but there would always be some new faces.
They don’t rush themselves nor they take their time casually. The graying male could’ve used his recently gained wings, but instead the Tundra’s right-hand had decided to just walk and make his entrance side by side with his daughter. He was never the one to put fancy things on display – aside for his kingdom granted wings and his restored vision he was totally plain – and Brynmor also was not that confident flying yet. Landing was the hardest part, so this would safe him from the flop too.
Brynmor’s gaze travel across those who had arrived before them. There were quite a few of the Tundra’s resident’s already, which wasn’t that strange since he had first gone to check on Roan. There is an unknown black colt, standing a bit alone and to the side. His gaze lingers a bit longer, studying this stranger that he had just yet to meet. He could smell Thanata, but he didn’t spot the tall Friesian mare, guessing that she preferred to shelter somewhere instead of mingle. The rude boy from the time he had met King Killdare and Nymphetamine was also there, but the boy was no longer a boy, instead he was now a full grown man who had earned his scars. Brynmor remembered them meeting and he had also silently watched the boy enter the cave. After that the formerly blind man had not mingled with him again.
Next he sees is one of Offspring and Isle’s adopted children, quite close to her father. Brynmor glances towards Igni, offering the girl a smile, before looking at Lieschel again. Last but not least, Ianto. Since their first meeting he hadn’t met the ex-king again and neither had they introduced their daughter to him yet, even though Igni had already turned a yearling. He supposed that this meeting would have to do, even though Roan couldn’t be there. And maybe that was better too. He could imagine that Ianto wouldn’t be too happy about that, knowing how protective he was when it came to Roan. And it wouldn’t surprise Brynmor if the other stallion would blame him for it.
He guides Igni to where Ianto stands, with the intention to introduce the two once Offspring would’ve told them why he had called them together. He smiles as she settles next to him and after silently greeting Offspring with a dip of his head he turns to Ianto. ”Long time no see, Ianto. I hope you are well?” He leaves things at that, his attention with his daughter. Glad that she had decided to silently join him and be present without really pressing herself forward.
It was quite an understatement to say that Offspring’s words catch him by surprise. Brynmor doesn’t know what surprises him more; the actual change or the fact that the king hadn’t spoken a word about this to him at all. Offspring didn’t have to, but as his right-hand he would’ve expected that such a delicate matter would’ve been discussed between them. There was no way that he could’ve prepared himself for this and it takes a little while for him to let it all settle in, unlike some others. Brynmor silently watches Ianto move forward and he cannot say that he likes the way the ex-king treats their current king, but it wasn’t his place to reprimand his father-in-law. And honestly, his own thoughts kept him busy enough anyway.
He honestly didn’t hold anything against mares, in fact, Brynmor had always liked their presence and company. He loved and respected Roan like an equal, not as a mare that was only meant to birth and raise children. Change had always been something he found difficult to adapt to, especially big changes like this. When Killdare had come to make an alliance between the Chamber and the Tundra he hadn’t been open for it at all, but with time he had learned to accept it and see the value of it. That didn’t mean he liked the Chamber and had been ready to forget about the past, but it was a start. And like that he would need some time for this change to get accustomed too.
Brynmor decides to wait, preferring to have a bit more time with his king, so he lets other go first. Among them is his own daughter, much to his surprise and mostly to his dismay. He watches the blue roan girl step forward towards Offspring. He cannot say he likes what she says, in fact, he’s quite angry she would suggest such a thing. He hadn’t raised her in such way, but deep down he knew that she was built with the same passion and fire as himself.
Blue eyes met red ones and the gray stallion isn’t able to hide the confusion, surprise and worry. Neither he wants too, he wouldn’t hold back that what he genuinely felt. That wasn’t how friendship worked. ”What will happen to the initiation? Or will that tradition be broken too?” His voice and words are much harder than he had meant them to be. He carried his scar with pride and Brynmor thought that it made the Tundra as she was. Yet at the same time he didn’t like the idea of Igni – or any other female – to face the demons in the cave.
Settling himself more comfortable next to his much taller and broader black king he sighs softly. And while Brynmor looks up to meet Offspring’s gaze again his gaze is somewhat apologetic. ”You surprise me, my friend.” He pauses, gaze moving elsewhere without really taking anything in. ”I knew you aren’t hesitant at all to change things, but this would’ve been the last thing to cross my mind. I hope it will all work out fine. What made you decide this?” This time it genuine interest, both to the reasoning of the Tundra’s ice king, but also to prepare himself. His roles as ambassador or right-hand wouldn’t change – or he guessed it wouldn’t – but in his positions he would probably have to tend those who were just as surprised by this as himself. And he wanted to be able to do it properly and prepared.
07-04-2016, 01:08 PM (This post was last modified: 07-04-2016, 01:09 PM by Igni.)
Love is friendship set on fire ...
She cannot say that it surprises her that her mother wasn’t be able to join them. Ever since her birth she hadn’t seen the bay roan mare do anything that would cost more energy than resting, eating and sleeping. Never had Roan taken her out for a walk, never had she been able to play with her mother and there hadn’t been much she had learned from Roan. It had always been Brynmor. Her father had shown her around, had told her what it meant to live as a mare in the Tundra. He had also been the one to explain her that her mother could never see her. Oh, she loved her parents dearly, but she couldn’t help but to be jealous of what Offspring and Isle’s children had with their parents.
Like any child she had been much excited to see her father with wings and she had been much interested in how he had gotten them. Of course he had told her – Brynmor couldn’t tell her ‘no’ in such a matter – and it had only resulted in the fact that she is eager to earn such a thing too. Igni simply isn’t the girl that her father wants her to be, his disapproving look was enough to tell her that.
The blue roan girl stands at his side, curiously looking around to all the unfamiliar face that have gathered. She watches as her father greets a few of them, but she doesn’t follow his example. Going against her nature she suddenly feels shy, being around so many strangers and aware of the fact that they would probably expect something of her, just like her father.
She cannot say that Offspring’s words don’t surprise her, it goes right against everything her father had taught her, but the surprise is like the one of a birthday party you didn’t know about was thrown for you. For a short moment she hesitates, looking at Brynmor. When she looks at the king again the stranger her father spoke to is standing beside him, acting all buddy like, but it doesn’t stop her from approaching. ”Uncle Offspring! Can I be the first girl in the war caste? Oh please, uncle, I really, really want to be the first!” As she speaks, fast due to her excited state, she’s almost bouncing next to him, a wide grin upon her face.
This would change her entire future. She knew that her father wanted her to stay, and probably her mother too, but honest, Igni hadn’t wanted to stay as just a mare. She was built with the same fire and passion as her father was and she was desperate for more. Now she wouldn’t have to leave the Tundra, not with this change her uncle – or that was how she referred to him – had decided to put the Tundra through.
i was born in the arms of imaginary friends,
free to roam; made a home out of everywhere i've been.
»«
The deep vocals of the king reach her delicate ears. The young mare had been off, watching the clouds float by and listen to the sounds of the melting snow. Often Mari could be found day dreaming or watching the other horses as they went about their lives. She has not known any other life, has never known fear. But the urgency of her father's call sends her limbs pulling and moving her.
When the girl had finally neared close enough to where her father stood there was already a gathering of horses. While off on her own exploring, she had been a pure blinding white so she may blend with the surroundings of the northern parts of the Tundra but now as she is stepping to the gathering her coat gives way to the palomino of her birth right like a reptile shedding it's skin.
Pale blue eyes look to the faces of the members but she only recognizes her little sister. A smile, wide and genuine, is on her lips as she greets each horse politely. "Hello, hello..." The small words greet the faces she did not know including the small foal by the gray man.
Lastly, the the azure pools rest upon her father. The honey muzzle is extended to the great ice king, bumping against him. "Hi daddy." Still, Offspring is massive next to his almost grown daughter. She smile big and wide for him, her movements vibrating her body as she wiggles ever so slightly. He is her father, her knight and shining armor and she has never forgot the day he plucked a mud covered foal from the Den and opened his home and heart to her.
Mari moves so she does not take away from the great man's presence and side steps so that she does not block him from the kingdom. Lobes train forward eager to listen to him.
When he speaks of opening the ranks to men and women alike, Mari can not help but make a small -eep- noise and she wiggles again out of excitement. She could finally join the ranks and make her father proud! Mari tries to calm herself, biting back the eagerness she feels. She knows to be quiet and listen. When Offspring has finished the others start to talk and so she remains quiet. It is not till he has spoken with all the other horses does the golden girl near her father with her own question. "Daddy, I want to help. I want to be a diplomat." She says this as sternly as her soft voice will allow her. Offspring could tell her no and shoo her away but Mari wants to contribute...to give back to the man who has done so much for her already.
I know you're trying to fight when you feel like flying.
Kingdom meetings aren't really my thing. In the three years since I was adopted into the Tundra, I haven't attended a single kingdom function. The politics of this place have never mattered to me, though for most of those three years I was still a child, free of the demands of a kingdom life. The Tundra functioned as a backdrop, just a setting where I could interact with my family. The only people who really matter to me. The only ones I've ever mattered to.
This time, though, when my father's call echoes across the vast expanse of plains wet with snowmelt and the thawing of the upper layers of frost in the soil, it is clear somehow that everyone's presence is requested. Even that of a rather errant prince. Acquiescing, I peer out of the mouth of my favorite cave, seeking out the gathering place chosen for this meeting.
I'm hardly the first to respond. When I spot my father—my king, at the moment, I suppose—he is already surrounded by others, ages varying, sizes varying. I'll be among the smallest of the lot, aside from the young ones who stand at parents' sides. As I approach, I recognize Mari and Lee among the crowd, picking their way toward our father, each moving to his side, touching him in affectionate greeting.
The rest are strangers to me, a few youngsters, some adolescent and others just old enough to leave their dams' sides. And, of course, a couple of adults have gathered together already as well. Rather than joining Mari and Lee at Dad's side and crowding him during a kingdom meeting, I stop just before I reach the gathering crowd, staying toward the back and out of immediate line of sight of everyone whose attention is tuned to their king.
When Dad finally speaks, I can't help but give him my undivided attention. Something about him in this moment, the strength in his voice, the determination in the set of his jaw, the way he carries himself as he addresses his people, I can't pinpoint it but it commands my focus. And who am I to refuse? He speaks of his rule, how he has led the kingdom differently than past rulers, and I blink, surprised. Somehow, it never occurred to me that he wasn't always the king here. Of course it's obvious the moment I think it. But my father seems eternal, steadfast and solid and true, and I can't imagine the Tundra without him at its head.
He draws a deep breath, watching us, and I know something big is coming. I can feel it in my bones, in the weight of expectation trembling along my spine. My unblinking gaze is locked on his face when he finally gives us the news. The Tundra is no longer a bachelor kingdom. Women can join the ranks, could climb to a position of power, have actual influence. Maybe one day the Tundra will even have a queen.
The solemnly attentive expression on my face changes slowly to an excited grin. There is a place here now for all my sisters, for my mother, for...for any daughters I might someday bring home from the adoption den the way Isle brought me home. The way we brought Lee home. Lee. I shift my attention to her, and she's smiling too, curling up against his side and savoring the wonderful news.
We'd only just begun to talk about the possibility of being a home for lost children like we once were, but the thought of leaving our family behind has been eating away at me ever since she asked about the future. I don't want to be apart from Mom and Dad, from Mari and Lissie...from Argo. If...if he weren't interested in coming too. Now, when I'm ready, this can be home for the lost ones. We don't have to go anywhere. Relief has my mud-brown eyes lighting up, my grin so large it makes my cheeks ache. Now even more than ever before, the Tundra can be home.
How many years I know I'll bear I found something in the woods somewhere
It has been almost a year since she has set foot outside what has become her cave. The pregnancy had taken quite the toll on the little bay roan mare and left her in a debilitating state of weakness that made her feel like a newborn all over again. It seemed like she had to relearn how to stand and then to walk, tottering about like a small foal when in fact, she had a small foal at her side! Her daughter is nearly grown though and Roan can smell the stink of bitterness that rises off the girl like heat when they are close together and she knows it is because she has been a pathetic excuse of a mother in that first year or so.
Roan cannot undo what the pregnancy has done to her or the time it has stolen from her. All she can do is accept what has come to pass and that has been a lot of sleep and regaining what frail strength she had to begin with. She is thinner than ever before - alarmingly so though she has eaten all that was within reach of her outstretched neck and what her lover has brought to her. The muddled taste of puddle-water still sits on her tongue and is enough to slake her thirst as she climbs to her feet, slowly but surely, swaying just the slightest as she takes a few clumsy steps from the cave into the outside world. The smell of snow and ice - ever familiar by now - hits her nostrils full on and she sucks an icy breath deep into her lungs until it hurts to hold it and she has to release it out in a whooshing sigh.
She is just in time to hear the loud bellow of summons that the King has released.
It is easy to assume that Brynmor and their daughter are not far behind those that heed the call, if not the first to respond to it. She comes later - much later, slow and bogged down by determination and exhaustion both that slaver like dogs nipping at her heels. The little mare can smell her father nearby too and the scent of him makes memory blossom warmly in her heart and she shuffles forward just a little bit faster, picking her way with great care through the snow and the ice. She hears her lover greet her father and wonders at just how that exchange will go, unknowing that Brynmor has not made Ianto aware of his granddaughter’s presence. What is worse is hearing their headstrong little girl ask permission to join the war caste and Roan has to stifle a gasp. She should not be all that surprised that their daughter would opt for that over something more peaceful and diplomatic because Igni was anything but - she could if she put her mind to it, but Roan knew the girl was built like a warhorse and meant for a life as such.
Shaking her head very carefully as if the movement pained her - it did; she steps to Brynmor’s side and leans against him, knowing he would not mind (he was ever her shelter in the growing storm of her sickness) and ran her lips against his cheek in the lightest brush of a kiss. “Hi,” she whispered into his skin before laying her own cheek against his shoulder and concentrating on keeping an even keel of standing and breathing and all without that labored feeling of illness riding her hard.
