"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
07-05-2016, 10:43 PM (This post was last modified: 08-08-2016, 10:09 AM by Topsail.)
I was in the darkness; so the darkness I became.
She called to them, one by one. Her voice rang through the dying sunlight, intermingling with the fog and the howling wolves and winding itself through the trees. But it was not to be heard by the ears, but by the mind. This meeting was long over due; they had remained in a lull for far too long. Lost in their own thoughts and lives, the kingdom had been neglected. The Valley was not an understanding mistress, and if they did nothing, they would surely pay dearly for their laziness.
She stood silently in the firey sunset, the oranges and reds playing against her dusty coat. A small breeze lifted her black mane from her slender neck and whipped her tail around her legs. Rumors abounded, and Topsail knew that those winds could bring forth something sinister at any moment. Of course, rumors were only rumors, and it was likely nothing at all would come from them. But she refused to be caught unaware as sitting ducks. Unlike her father, who harbored a soft heart, she was made of far tougher stuff. So with the Valley wolves at her heels she waited patiently for her kingdom mates. She had no doubt they would come.
Topsail
raptor Queen of the Valley
ooc - Please respond IC (doesn't have to be elaborate)! Beneath your post, let me know what caste your pony is in/will be remaining in. Trying to boost activity and clean the board up!
07-06-2016, 09:51 AM (This post was last modified: 07-06-2016, 09:56 AM by Padma.)
Padma
snakes among sweet flowers do creep
She’d been wading in the shallows, hoping to catch a glimpse of the eel like woman that frequented them. Elysium had mated her a few times and their children were simply horrific, like their Dam. Padma of course found this intriguing and beautiful and couldn’t help but want a peek at the creature itself. She heard it was truly terrifying and so, naturally, she tingled at the thought.
It’s during her dip in the waters that their Queen’s voice enters her mind, another pleasant tingle taking her body. Couldn’t keep her majesty waiting could she? Well, she could but she wouldn’t. Instead she saunters out of the water, dripping thick drops of moisture to the Valley floor and a few stray water plants clung to her tail. Tis she took care of first, flicking and tugging when she could until one long leafy strand broke free.
When she felt she was presentable she made her way through the hills, a paced gait not too quick and not too slow and somehow she managed to still arrive first. That’s okay she purred to herself, taking a spot front row and smiling sweetly to the mousey hued Queen. “Meetings already then my Queen, almost forgotten what your voice sounded like for a moment,” she played because it hadn’t been that long and she wasn’t quick to forget either. Her mane still hung, wet and plastered to her neck and her tail coiled around her hocks. She was still beautiful though somehow, almost a glorifying white against the shadows. Each scale shone momentarily in the moonlight as she shifted in place, looking around in hopes to spot the others.
It is only after a great deal of introspection that the copper colored girl returns.
She knew, deep in her bones, that she would return to the Valley. There was great comfort in the fire of the Valley - the way the air settled over her skin and toyed with her mane. Her father was here, her mother was here - in spirit, really. They were both dead. Her twin? She hadn't the faintest idea, but she can't feel her like she once did. She is not here.
Yet, Thorunn returns to this place.
She haunts the borders for days before crossing in, exhaling happily when it accepts her into its borders without fight. She remembers the days before the entities, but they are blurry with childhood. She knows she should just stride in, feeling in her heart she belongs - but she hesitates. How much of her is truly her, and how much is another? Her father?
Just as she crosses a call rings out for a meeting, and she goes. It's duty, really, she is unsure what she has to offer (if anything) to a kingdom older than herself. She picks her way over the nooks and crannies until she is before the queen - who else would it be?
"I am Thorunn," she tells the stranger, her orange eyes blinking absently at the mare. "I would like to join the war caste, if possible."
This is slightly (mostly) trash. I apologize, but wanted to get something up!
In the wake of the raid – it seemed that new faces finally pulled from the shadows. It was to no one’s surprise that tremors of disaster quaked the land of Beqanna. In the past year, much had happened – battles were fought, souls were left behind, and the magic of the land retracted. There was no doubt that there would be more change etched on the horizon of Beqanna – it would only take time.
Eight returned from the Plains slightly battered and bruised, but with an enormous victory in his name. It had been a brutal and brash fight – one he considered perhaps even cowardly, but evenly matched none the less. He had won at the cost of drained magic, and a fractured wing that had been healing nicely. A small price to pay for a victory. But the victory came with something more – it had been a draw among the two kings, and the effects rippled throughout the land.
And now? Now what was to happen. The Kingdom’s magical powers had been retracted, the thrones changing hands, and no doubt more mutiny and attacks were on the horizon. Now, it was time for the Valley to care for herself – to nurture and protect the people and the power inside of her.
Eight appeared quietly in the back of the gathered horses. He caught the eye of Thorunn and Padma, a silent ‘hello’ if you will. To Topsail, he nods, sending a silent message to her - I am here, and here I will stay. There really was no other place for the Valley’s Guardian to be – here, was home.
The golden girl stepped lightly amongst the gathering adults. She had heard the Valley queen’s call echo throughout the kingdom and she had curiously heeded it. Despoine easily threaded her way into the group and planted herself at her mother’s side. The yearling had only ever seen the grullo mare from afar, never once personally meeting her queen. But she was aware of her connection to both of her parents.
She offered her mother a warm smile in greeting before letting her eyes stray once again to the other faces in the group. She recognized the wolves who sat at the queen’s feet. Often times, they would playfully nip at her heels and corral her farther away from the kingdom’s borders during their frequent patrols. She also notices a bright chestnut mare with the most intriguing eyes standing before their queen while a dark man solemnly brings up the back. She briefly wondered if her father would be appearing any time soon.
Were these few souls all that made up the kingdom? Despoine was unaware of the current events that have affected the land. Such low numbers could be leave their kingdom vulnerable and ultimately be disastrous. But for now, she was only concerned with meeting her fellow kingdom members. With the exception of her parents, the golden girl hadn’t been given much of a chance to interact with any of the others.
"I'm Despoine."
you can place her in either children or residents!
08-13-2016, 12:12 PM (This post was last modified: 08-13-2016, 12:19 PM by SaphiraG1rl.)
She came to the queen's call, feeling as if awoken from a numb blank time in her memory. The past few months she has been wandering, not interacting much. But she has returned to her home, where she belongs. Where she always belonged. "I wish to take a place in the diplomat caste, Topsail." The telepathic queen would know her reasons if she looked, and G'ren Fire didn't bother saying them out loud. She wanted to visit the Falls, see how her family, her descendants no less, are doing. She cares about her children, unlike her father. Even if she only cares from afar, she does. She also is not a fighter, but rather talks issues out if she can.
She knew the Valley was neglected and might take revenge soon, if nothing is done, and looked at the wolves on the mare's heels. G'ren Fire always wondered why the Valley had them, but when a stallion came once, with ill intentions, the wolves barred his passage. That was when she found the answer. They were protectors - guardians of this kingdom of a cove and of mist and fog and trees and hills and the valley in the center. Know she understood their presence, why they remained here.
G'ren Fire is here, as a resident currently. I'm going to add her to the diplomat caste. She's been in the closet for a couple months, so you might not recognize her.
He moves seamlessly through the unwavering pines, savoring the sweet caress of their dark embrace as his bristling black feathers scratch against the old, drying flakes of bark that hang from their trunks. Her voice penetrates his mind - she and his father are the only ones he allows to probe his mind, to delve into the dark rivets and deep crevices of his brain, but only to the shallow degree he permits. His darkest thoughts are kept tightly wrapped, pushed into the very recesses of his mind where no ample amount of magic can penetrate. Still, her voice is sweet, gentle and it croons to him - sending a delicious, illicit shiver down the course of his spine.
He would never keep her waiting.
A hissing breath escapes his clenched jaw as he emerges from the shadows at last, his dark eyes peering across the individuals gathering before her glorious self. His gaze lingers too long on his mother's shapely torso, her slender legs and her curved, tilted chin - before he draws his attention away to take in the alabaster serpent beside him. She is riveting, but altogether too plain for his own taste, but the energy she exudes is alluring. Another, a shimmering goldenrod, offers the same arrogant female a warm smile, and he sneers slightly at the affectionate show. Several others loom close by as well, but he does not particularly care for their carefully crafted words and forced diplomacy. His own father lingers as well, his presence a heavy shadow, and his eye meets his for only a moment before his gaze focuses on the one he has come to see. To serve.
"Mother - Father," He rumbles, though his gaze never steers away from the hardened gaze of his most precious possession. "Underwood, for those who do not know. I do not care where you place me; I will go wherever you desire me to."And do whatever you desire me to, his words promise; something only his mother can see beneath the surface of his wry mind. "That being said, we have stood in the shadows long enough. I have gone beyond our own border and I have seen the lands stirring once more; the Gates no longer sleep. Let us not wait."
look up here now; i'm in heaven. i've got scars that can't be seen.
Time has shifted; changed. He has not settled into it, not yet. The days move swiftly and without precedence, and he finds his life slipping away before his very unusual, compound eyes. He cannot piece it all together before it is suddenly gone, washed away with the gentle breeze and bathed in the memories of blood, loss and destruction. He has lost himself in his own mind in the days, months, and years preceding the war, and he finds he cannot reclaim what was once his old soul. It has been discarded, left behind with the now decomposed, rotting corpse of a female he had never known the name of. He had murdered her in cold blood, with nothing but brutality behind his motive - fueled by a desire to protect his kingdom, which was now left to rot in pieces and no longer felt as if it were his.
Still, he would do so with ease again - the muscles beneath his mottled, flaking skin tremor at the thought of it. Anything for her, his mind hisses gently, as the very blood of the forsaken valley pumps with ease thorough his cold blooded veins. His limbs, six in total, shift with an agile ease, though his movements resemble the prowl of a predator. His eyes piece together the fragmented parts of what lay before him, and slowly the line of pine trees come together, with the deeply vibrant sky illuminating their weary, aging limbs, summoning him from the shadows. Her voice had echoed in his mind, but he had hesitated to stir from the shadows - he had nothing to give, nothing to offer - his mind was a muddled mess, ripe with unshed tears and festering anger.
His devotion is unwavering, and he would kill again - he would maim and destroy whatever necessary to keep the sanctity of his precious kingdom, of her delicate yet devious complexity. His thoughts are of no secret to the fierce Queen who watches over in silence, but he remains quiet all the same, drowning the dark thoughts that simmer in his mind beneath a blanket of shadows and solitude. Alas, he is drawn out - his compound eyes grimacing and flinching away from the bright light of dusk, the sky too vibrantly filled with color for his own taste.
His gaze falls to Padma, drenched but glorious nonetheless - her presence is one of the few he can still tolerate; that he still enjoys. She sees beyond his disfigurement; she knows him deeply. He emerges to stand beside her, his delicate wings tucked onto his spine, and his gaze lingers momentarily on the beauty that is his spawn - his precious Despoine. His hollow heart clenches with pride; she too stands with Her majesty and he could ask for little else.
At last, he speaks, his voice low but crackling from disuse. "Elysium; though I am of little use to you now." He murmurs, blinking his wide eyes to focus on the Queen that stands with such fierce presence. "I will not partake in a caste, but my loyalty runs deep. Should you need me, you know where to find me."
They gathered, as she knew they would. One by one they slipped from the shadows of the forest, keen to hear her words and eager for action. Their kingdom was floundering, as was the rest of Beqanna. It was time that they rose from the ashes of their slumber and poor decisions and made right the wrongs of a bloody past. Now, more than ever, their kingdom depended on them. For once it would not be the other way around. They would nurture Her, and preen Her, and help to grow fruitful once more. Together.
New faces joined the old, a fact which made the grulla queens heart soar. First was Padma, a steadfast figure in the Valley, followed closely by a chestnut pledging herself to the war caste. Then Eight; the Valley guardian, and sire of her children. She returned his silent hello, their eyes meeting for but a brief moment and conveying some type of private message. They did not share love (despite sharing children), but an understanding of one another that allowed them to work closely side by side. Then a golden filly-mare, with eyes too wide and a naïve smile; she would learn. Another mare was soon to follow, one that Topsail had never seen before. She did not smell like the Valley, in the way only Valley dwellers could. Like fog and shadows, a darkness that radiated from their skin like light bounced off of the others. Time would tell for her. Finally her son, her Underwood. Her be all to end all; no matter that he had full siblings, he could never be replaced or replicated. Lastly came Elysium. The Valleys strange moth man, but who’s heart was as consumed with the Valley as any of them. Despite his recent absence, he was a valued member of their kingdom, and Topsail knew that come hell or high water, he would be there for them.
“To our new faces…Welcome. To the old faces, thank you.” she said, a gracious nod to the group as a whole. The pup at her heels whined, and she spared it a small glance before continuing on. “As you have probably heard, the fairies have stripped all of the magic from the kingdoms. Ours is not the only one; in fact, the Deserts are currently uninhabitable. Whether or not this is a direct reaction to the raid, I’ve no idea. On that note, we will no longer entertain the ideas of spineless worms looking to stir the shit pot. Instead, we will be the hand forcing them to lick the spoon.” she said, a glare in her eyes and a bite to her voice. She would not mention names, no…at least, not now. “For now, we must protect our entities. These wolf pups at my heels are dependant on all of us. We must nurture them, coddle them even, if it means they are to grow. Without them, we have no kingdom.” Like fledgling birds, they could do nothing on their own. Topsail had even taken to showing them where to find food, albeit mostly carrion. Without her own kingdom powers, she had no means with which to hunt and kill food for the tiny predators, but she could still point them in the right direction. “Our ties with the Chamber and Tundra are still strong, though I think it would not hurt for Eight and myself to go and check their bindings. Underwood, if you would like to go to the Gates, then please feel free. Rumor has it their kingdom has changed hands once again, and it would be in our best interest to see just what the new ruler is about.” a pause, as she nodded in her sons direction. “Everyone else…for now, we with hold kingdom envoys. The state of Beqanna is dangerous at best, and it would not due to set the wrong impressions straight out of the gate. Instead, recruit. Friendly steals and challenges. Mock debates. Whatever you would like; I’m sure our allies would not mind a little extra practice themselves. The field has been active and it would be nice to see Valley faces amongst those recruiting.” There was always someone looking for a home in the Field, and they would never come to the Valley if they weren’t offered the chance. “Due to recent events, I would also like to ask Eight to stand beside me as King and to lead the army as General for the time being. He has proven himself worthy time and time again, and he performed above and beyond in the Valley raid, conquering the magician Yael. Eight, if you will, I would be glad for you to take the other crown.” she said, bowing her head slightly in his direction. He could say no, true, but it was only right of her to ask. “Any questions, comments, or concerns? Lets voice them now.”. And with that offer, she opened up the floor to the Valleys people.
08-17-2016, 12:22 AM (This post was last modified: 08-17-2016, 12:23 AM by Cress.)
all that we have amassed sits before us, shattered into ash
It appears I’m always just a tad late to these.
Her copper coat burns like a newly polished penny as she approaches the group of assembled horses, and she picks her way among them expertly to take her place. The flames burning within her surge forth, urging her forward, urging her to speak, but she is silent for a moment longer, eying the queen who was but a child when she first took the Valley from Demian’s capable hands. Oh, has Topsail grown since Cress has been away. As a woman, as a leader, as a Queen. There is no doubt that she has earned her title and the Valley’s love, but has she earned their respect?
Flames bubble at her lips as she watches them, and smoke twists and dances all around her golden head. She does not have the typical blue eyes that mark her as a descendant of Kindling—perhaps that is why they have still not discovered her parentage—but instead she has her father’s eyes, and they are burning with intensity as she watches the newly crowned king. Eight. Does he deserve it? This she could not know. This she could not be the judge of. She has been gone for far too long.
If one remembers correctly, she used to hate him. He had stolen the throne from her father.
He had taken the title of princess from her.
Cress—a princess. Who would’ve thought; it is her best guarded secret.
“I have been gone a long time,” she says, finally. She cannot—will not—explain her absence to this queen she does not know, but Topsail will know enough. “My name is Cress. Before my departure I was the Valley’s Chancellor. If you would like, until you find a suitable replacement I would be willing to assist you in the field of diplomacy.” She glances at Eight then, and the flames in her throat are momentarily extinguished. “You will find that there are older faces in the crowd that know me and find me quite capable in my duties.”
Throughout her years of absence, she never once lost her loyalty to the Valley… never. She felt the tear when her kingdom-earned empathy was ripped from her, and that was only recently. She had wondered what had happened, but if what the Queen says is true, it is a world-wide phenomenon and not just the Valley; she is not the only one to lose her kingdom-granted ability. She does not mind too much, however—she never cared too much for the overwhelming knowledge of just how everyone around her was feeling.
Only the lust of the fire that consumed her when Flamevein took her so long ago… but it is best not to think of that now. He is not even here anymore either. All of her best allies have left. Not even little Flamebrand is left to keep her company. Only strangers and the magician she once swore would be her enemy for life. “Aside from that, I would like to be added to the war caste along with the diplomats.” I have spent my entire life being peaceful. It’s time to fight for my own wants.
