"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
Winter descends once again upon the dusty, dried plains of the permafrost-encrusted land. A gentle flurry of powdery snow caresses the dull, yellowed landscape in a delicate, untouched blanket of white as the icy wind crawls over the tall slopes of surrounding mountains, casting its frigidity upon those caught within the canyon below. Quietly, the King looms from the very same hill-crest he had been erect upon mere weeks ago, his searing crimson eyes peering onto the lightly dusted field that lay below.
The voice had echoed in his mind, as he was certain it had done to many others. Beqanna was angry - furious, for their greed and their fury had been too selfish and their misfortune too little. A lesson had to be taught, and with it, he was stripped away of his strength. He no longer harnessed the power to manipulate ice, and he watched as the wings were torn from a Brother's back, dissipating into the wind as if it had only been formed of dust.
His heart aches, for he knows he is, in part, to blame. He had come to the aid of his allies, and had followed a path that his instinct had pleaded with him not to. He had made a grave mistake, one that he would sorely regret in the many years to come - and if he were to see the demon-inflicted male that had provoked the havoc again, he would surely tear the very flesh and sinewy muscle off of his pliable bones.
The sudden rumble of the Earth mere hours ago had been enough to disturb him, drawing him from a place of complacency while his mind wandered. The land no longer crackles and the air somehow feels empty - there is a change, and it is palpable. The deep bruises and healing wounds that litter his dark body continue to cause him discomfort, but he swallows the anguish and clenches his jaw tightly as he stands still, willing the ceaseless ache to fade away. His brow furrows as his thoughts begin to drift, focused on the burden of uncertainty. The once alluring, dangerous runes were now empty; lacking the hazy magic that had been bestowed there several generations ago.
The heavy scarring left behind, as a mark of the Brotherhood's devotion and dedication, had faded away, and not only from his own body. He had observed many in the previous hours, those who had experienced the searing, callous demons that lingered within the cave long ago and those who had done so as early as that very morning. Each and every one, including himself (his heart had rattled upon looking at his own reflection; wounded and weary but lacking the prominent white marking that had once lain beneath his left eye), now lacked it.
He knows that fear, dubiety and anger must be rippling through the frigid land, and so he must draw them together - his Brothers and Sisters, to discuss what has occurred. An atrocity lingers just beyond the horizon, and once more his instinct draws up tightly within the pit of his stomach. He knows trouble is brewing beneath the hardened soil, and even within the magma below and the stirring, grumbling sky overhead. It is only a matter of time.
"Brothers, sisters! Come! We must speak once more." He bellows, his voice booming against the stone and within the deadened space. He waits as they approach, burning eyes observing each familiar (and for some, unfamiliar) face. He shifts his weight carefully, ignoring the pang of pain along his left leg. It will heal, in time. "You have undoubtedly heard the call. The Gods are angry with us - and in part, it is my own fault. I have lent my support to our allies in the attempted undermining of the Deserts, which now .. I dare say, no longer exists." His heart clenches tightly in his chest. He can only hope those tucked away within the arid desert had escaped a salty, ocean grave.
"The magic is gone. Your scars .. they are gone. The cave no longer holds the same properties it once had, and instead, it is empty. A monument to once was, and a brittle one, at that. I must ask of you to protect it. It will need someone on watch, night and day - a rotating shift. Will those who are willing step forward?"
He falls quiet for a long moment, exhaling a long breath from his aching lungs.
"The jungle has a new Queen. I require a diplomat - no more than two - to see to it. We must find out what Queen Lexa's intentions are, and where we will stand after this carnage. We .. no, I -" He pauses to think of Lagertha's sneering mug, her soulless eyes and her purposeful attempt on his life. If he never saw her again, it would still somehow be too soon. "- stood against Lagertha in combat. It is possible we may not be welcome, but lets seek neutrality. Respect their borders, as you would have them respect ours."
"And finally," He breathes heavily, heavy head dipping slightly as he observes those before him. "we prepare. Diplomats, reach out and seek recruits. Make contact with our allies and enemies alike, to see where they stand. Warriors, prepare to engage in mocks with our allies. We must hope for the best, yet prepare for the worst. Change is coming, it is upon the horizon, and it waits for no one."
OFFSPRING
THE FIRE AND ICE KING OF THE TUNDRA
TLDR:
Please read "The Warning".
There are no more kingdom traits, no scars, and no magic in the cave.
The cave must be protected or the kingdom will cease to exist.
Lagertha is gone; Offspring wants to see where Lexa stands in terms of alliance.
He assumes hostile, as she partook in the raid, so proceed with caution, but seek neutrality.
At least meet her. Because Tinsel is amazing. :)
He needs two diplomats to go; no more. Let's keep it short and simple.
Yael and Vanquish are gone.
The Deserts no longer exist.
Mocks will be set up with allies.
He will need someone to take charge of that.
07-25-2016, 04:50 PM (This post was last modified: 07-25-2016, 04:51 PM by Weir.)
WEIR
It is winter again, both in the world and in his heart. They each reflected the season, adorning themselves in the crystalline fragments of ice and snow. One is done in powdery slopes, slick tracks of ice and sharp icicles above one’s head. The other is a multifaceted uniform, a costume of ice made corporeal by the one that wielded its power. Weir takes refuge in the Tundra, stowing himself away into the bleak expanse of the northern region. This was best, this was less painful, this was as it should be. There were no turtles in the Tundra, hardly any animal life to be a consistent reminder to his amber eyes- a reminder of loss and pain.
How his heart had ached, broke and severed into tiny little frozen pieces he was sure. Too cold and too plentiful to mend, to coax back together just yet.
At least here he had the cold, the ice and snow to soothe him. The gentle caress of winter winds finding his icy body like a well worn glove. Weir did not often remain in such a state, cloaked in the frigid hangings of his gift but he has spent his time like this since he arrived, unwilling to will it away. He had already lost such a vital part of himself, he could not bear to be without this too, to force it into submission when it so freely came to surface.
The King’s call finds him easily enough, even as he wanders stoically through the expanse of harsh terrain, he comes because he knows he should. He did not need to be told though, of the loss, of the anger of the fae that ruled the land. It was a first hand telling that Weir had received, a blunt recital, a sharp knife in the chest of news and for the first time his amber orbs held a darkness at the thought. A shadow creeping over his bright eyes and he shut them quickly as the words of the King did the retelling. Weir did not want to hear it, not again, so soon- the rivets still deep against his skin. He did hear them though, each syllable sliding as sharp as a knife against his eardrums and he turned his head away as the telling went on.
His loss had broken something inside of him, what exactly we can’t yet be sure but it was damaged, that much was known. He doesn’t bat an icy lash at the news of a new Queen over the ladies of the Amazons, the carbon wielding female having been the one he had battled against. Suppose she proved her worth in their fight, made her Kingdom proud, and why shouldn’t she have? She fought bravely and without spite and Weir knew that she was a capable candidate if any. And though he thought these things he had no desire to seek the ear or favor of the Jungle, he desired only to exist. Diplomats and Warriors and for what? Weir lost his desire to serve the castes that day he had lost Darwin, too empty to fill himself let alone a rank within the Kingdom.
Instead he stood watchful and silent, a blue colt at his side, eyes wide and bright. Weir would tell him later what had been discussed, if and only if the boy asked. For now the child seemed content with mingling, amber eyes drifting to each of the gathering Kingdom members, ears twitching on his head as they did when he was excited.
He had felt the weird shift in the air, caught some (but not all) of the words. He was mostly confused- he had been absent for so long, he didn’t really have an idea of what had been going on. So when he hears the call of his King, so soon after their last meeting, he assumes it must be about the recent whatever-it-was.
He settles to listen near the king, shifting to cock a hoof, his ears tipped towards the man. It is news to him that the Tundra had been warring against the Deserts. He raises his brows, not entirely sure how he should feel about this. Officially he should’ve renounced the Deserts entirely, but it will always hold a specia-
But… what?
No longer exists? ”What?” he says aloud. ”What do you mean? What has happened to the Deserts?”
He continues to speak about the loss of their traits, and the fragility of the caves, but Romek is too busy thinking about the Deserts. The sands, the home where he was born, where he grew up, where he lived for so long, the only place that he could stand for a long long time – and now it was just gone? He couldn’t wrapped his head around it.
The rest of the meeting comes and goes and he is still reeling. Finally, he feels like he can gather his thoughts enough to speak. ”I’d be more than willing to set these mocks up.” he says. ”And sign me up for first shift guarding the cave.” There was no way he was going to lose a second home.
One by one they come, gathering and answering their king’s call. It hadn’t been too long ago that they had been called together, but the mood couldn’t be any different. Last time there had been an exited buss and some friendly chitchat all around them, but they had all heard Beqanna and they had all felt the changes that followed.
The magic was no longer within their reach. It was still there, Brynmor could feel it, but not reachable. Everything else got stripped away. Their cave was empty and he guessed he would be able to walk in without having to face his personal demons. His scar had disappeared too, the big wolf paw that had decorated his right chest was nowhere to be seen anymore, just vanished into thin air. Most prominent of all was the loose of his wings, which he had only gotten recently.
Oh, his wings, and how he missed them. Not the trait an sich and the fact that he had them – because it didn’t matter to Brynmor, he was already so thankful for his sight – but more that he was now bound to travel by foot again. He could no longer react quickly to calls or urgent situations. Offspring had given him his wings to be able to cross distances in less time and it was surprising how easily you got used to such a luxury.
Offspring’s words only confirm that what he had already thought, or at least, he had guessed in approximately the right direction. Beqanna’s words had been clear, very clear. That made the instructions on how to continue from this point further only more interesting and important. ”I’m willing to take the first watch too, but if you rather have me and Maribel visiting the Jungle I’ll take over the watch from Romek once I get back. But maybe they’ll welcome a female sooner, plus I think it will be a good opportunity for Maribel too and we can show the effects of the change in ranks. I can tag along, if you prefer though and continue towards the Chamber after?” Once he’s done speaking his eyes move away from Offspring’s, but only to seek Maribel’s gaze and offer her a small smile.
”From those who don’t go to visit the Jungle, maybe two can go to both the Valley and Chamber to start arranging mocks?” Brynmor himself was willing to visit either of them. It had been a while since he had last met King Killdare and Queen Topsail, but he would also gladly make an arrangement with the Chamber’s general Kimber.
She remained in a peaceful solitude today, the winter was here and the snow was harsher than ever. She definitely preferred the lighter snow over the heavy snow but it was beautiful here, she never knew how pretty snow and ice shards could be before living here in the Tundra. The air was so crisp and it always had a scent to it, a pleasant scent not like a wet dog smell. Her head flicked to the left as she heard the call of Offspring and gracefully made her way towards his call.
She eventually found herself at the bottom of a hill in which Offspring stood tall at the top. She smiles as a greeting and found her place at the bottom, there was a couple of horses already there and she stood aside them. She patiently waited for hte others to arrive, dipping her head every now and than to pay with the snow until finally everyone gathered. She glanced around smiling to the few faces that were familiar to her.
The king took his time to give his speech and Josie knew all to well it had to be about Beqanna losing its magical powers. She missed the war but was aware of it as her father took part in it, but the punishment was a grave one. He talks, it was about the loss of magic but the more he spoke the more her heart dropped. The information she shared was far beyond her knowledge, the deserts no longer exist!? this could not be. All the kingdoms played an important role in Beqanna, how would they fair without the existence of one kingdom.
He talks about how the cave lost its power, the marks you got from the cave were gone and most importantly if the cave would be destroyed so would the Tundra. This was her home now and she would have to do whatever it took to protect the kingdom.
And finally, he discusses how the Jungle has a new queen and he wanted to ensure there alliance still stood. He asked for two diplomats to go and ensure the treaty, she knew that the kingdom was females only and they did not all take kindly to stallions. She wanted to prove herself and this was the best way she could show her courage. The others started talking about preparing mock battles and she figured she should add her input. She stepped out from the rest and looked up to Offspring I would like to go to the Jungle to see where we stand she found her place back in the crowd awaiting the others conversation to end.
It always feels like winter here, but Isle finds that she minds less and less with the passing years. Though she had fallen immediately in love with the way the sun fractured like diamonds against the ice wall, the cold was an altogether different story. She was small and sleek like her mother, slight by nature, and it had taken years for her now thick coat to fully come in. On the best days she no longer minded the cold, the days where the wind slept quiet and the sun drenched the side of the mountain in watery yellow light- and on the coldest she had her family, she had Offspring.
She follows him now across the Tundra, lagging behind with their daughter, their beautiful Eione, tucked against her flank. There is absolutely nothing in the world like being a mother, nothing that comes close, nothing that makes her quite this content. She pauses again to allow the girl a chance to rest if she needs it, and her neck turns so that she can bury her lips in the tufts of dark forelock. They continue on this way for a bit, and by the time they’ve joined Offspring again there is already a steadily growing crowd around him. As they pass him to join the rest, Isle reaches out to touch his shoulder in a quiet way, lending him her comfort although he would never need it. It didn’t matter that the magic had been torn from him, from the kingdom, it didn’t matter that his thoughts spun like blades in his head. He would always, always be the strength this kingdom needed.
She picks a spot at the outer edge of the group, close, but not so close that Eione might accidentally be jostled by passing bodies. The girl is barely a day old, barely steady on her feet, and yet she clings stubbornly to Isle who in turn pulls her into the warmth of her chest and lays a dark chin protectively over her small back.
He fills in his people and she is quiet, quiet because she already knows. With his concerns voiced he begins to organize and she finds that her gaze drifts between the faces of those who answer first. She understands she would make a poor diplomat, that she has no business being sent into the heart of other kingdoms until she can more easily control her mind-reading. Few take well to such an invasion of privacy. Even now she can feel her head ache with the effort of holding her mind close, with the effort of ignoring the clamor of thoughts pressing against her brittle resolve. But then a thought occurs to her, and with some hesitance she offers her own help.
“I could guard the cave.” She says, quiet at first, and then a little louder when her eyes find that familiar red smolder. “If someone comes, someone who can’t block me, I’d know.” And it seems strange that this thing she’s always been shamed for, this ability to read minds, could actually be of use to the kingdom. But then a second thought occurs to her, and a sliver of doubt buries itself in that quiet resolve. "I just need someone to teach me how to defend it."
Twins be like "My.. But.. Wha?" *continues to promptly cry*
Rael Fire
I looked towards Offspring's voice as I canter through the falling snow to join two others. One was my mom, with Echo, hanging about and listening. My sister, Real, had joined me on my right and was cantering slightly slower than myself, hanging at my flank. "Come on. You know you're faster." I tease slightly before skidding in the snow to a stop a few paces away from Mom, looking at her happily.
When I caught Offspring say "The cave must be guarded, or the Kingdom will be destroyed." and jumped slightly, looking at him with fear. "I can take a shift, Offspring." I say quietly, and Real piped in. "I can guard with my brother." She says, looking at me with pride. "You will?" I ask quickly, but he started again before she could answer. She nodded once, and I felf a rush of gratefulness course through me, warming my core for a few seconds. I felt as if she was my right hand, the one I can trust secrets with, and share feelings with without as much shame. I knew she would not tell anything she shouldn't, but sometimes she'll phrase a tease in I way I know she's toeing the line of secrecy. But we lolved each other greatly, and wouldn't split easily.
07-26-2016, 07:16 PM (This post was last modified: 07-26-2016, 07:24 PM by vaughan.)
I shall wear no crowns and win no glory
Vaughan has been present but not involved in this meeting thus far, he watches from afar as they one by one appear from the fog of the Tundra. After several gather and lay stake to guarding the cave he decides that he, too, will join in on the meeting. The floppy ear stallion moves with ease through the snow to Offspring, saddling up against the newest incomer - Weir. He gives a small nudge to the silence, his way of saying, "It will all be okay." He watches Romek, an older gentleman speak up and take first watch; he finds him admirable on a surface level so far. Mention of the Amazons makes him belly laugh aloud, "Yes, probably wise that you go instead of me to the Tundra; though a new Queen reigns, I apparently irritated the last - could be reward for my head." He had not heard much of the newest mare inhabiting the throne, though he hated that if her ideals were different from Lagertha's; she'd have a hard pressed time trying to change their outward preconception. The black stallion had witnessed the Gods' calling, just like everyone else and although he personally wasn't affected - trait wise or power, it left him writhing in sweat when it was over. Before the cave had been destroyed, it showed him things he had wished to not see of his sister and mother and since then any bad news he correlated to it.
"Offspring, if I'm stepping out of line please correct me but I feel that stacking soldiers around our caves for watch is almost inviting to be attacked and not only that - how many of us are actually skilled fighters? I think Romek is the best for this cause at the moment along with myself and Brynmor, when time permits. We cannot all be everywhere at once, Romek if you'll take the first watch I will travel to the Chamber - my mother is the General and will happily oblige to mocks, as well as the Valley. Isle, if you'd like to travel with me I can teach you the foundations of fighting but the real test will come during mocks," he is often a many of few words but he often saves them for legitimate concerns and plans. As a youth, he spent his time honing on sarcasm but now he uses it for strategy.
"Oh, I'm Vaughan for those that haven't met me - the resident thorn in everyone's side," he says with a smirk, looking over to some of the new residents of the Tundra. They had potential, sure, but potential is nothing without the energy spent to make it useful energy. The floppy ear stallion turns his left side to Offspring, "Oh hey, can't you make it a little warmer here now, old man?" he says with a small chuckle, though he had never spent much time with Offspring spare his initial dumping from his father he figured that a small stab at humor would be okay, if not appreciated, in such a serious time.
07-28-2016, 10:10 PM (This post was last modified: 07-28-2016, 10:11 PM by Ashr.)
i am
Ashr
daughter of the far north
The storm bears down on the Tundra, piling ice and snow so high that once it’s over she feels as though she can stand on top of it all and touch the clouds themselves; the land, though it looks very much like the place she was born, is foreign. She is the feral one here, primitive—a wild child borne under practices they abandoned long ago. She fumbles with her words sometimes while they speak so clear and plain. They seem sophisticated and graceful while she comes across as boorish and clumsy. Their customs confuse her and might as well belong to another species entirely. You see, there is no matriarch here—but they do serve a king; there is a band of sorts, but it’s called a ‘kingdom’ and everyone has their own rank and duties to adhere to; she tries to soak it all in but then ends up wanting to scream for her mother, wants to turn back now and take her chances with the frigid water rather than have to learn all of the rules of this scary new world. It’s all too much, too soon. But then she remembers what is waiting for her on the other side and thinks better of it.
Besides, if not for Romek and Lieschel, she wouldn’t be alive right now.
She has stuck close to them ever since, whether they realize it or not; she’s careful to keep her distance, however, so as not to be a nuisance whilst she heals and learns to deal with her losses. It’s not easy, even after a month or so. She still has nightmares, still sees Him come after her family night after night; she always wakes with a start, her throat raw from screaming and tears sliding down her cheeks. She’s always tired, she’s tired right now—but when the call rings out her head shoots up and she watches the adults shuffle past her. Curious, she makes herself trudge through the snow after them.
“The magic is gone,” are the first words Ashr ever hears come out of Offspring’s mouth.
She weaves between bodies and slips between everyone as best she can until she reaches the front, unceremoniously poking her head out from between someone’s legs to get a better look at this ‘king.’ He has red eyes, this King of the North, and a certain authoritive look about him that she supposes demands respect. Something dire seems to have happened, he speaks of Deserts and sending diplomats to the Jungle and she finds herself practically wiggling with excitement rather than the crippling anxiety she’d felt a month previously. Before she can bite her tongue, she blurts out: “Can- can I do something?” And immediately, she feels her face heat up. Embarrased, she tries to back out from under the horse whose legs she’d poked her head through and tries to hide among the rest of the crowd.
Ianto had woke to the voice's displeasure. Listening with a groggy mind.
Until the magic had been stripped and he felt the lack of energy in the air, felt the scars along his body disappear. And he felt just a little bit naked at their loss. He had three scars, each of them a different time spent in the cave for a different promotion. The lichen like patch on his haunch, the three claws across his eye, and the crown of the king on his shoulder (crossed out now, but still visible)...all gone.
So he had stood, making his way to the cave, long before his King had called them. But he walked, noting the changes in his home. And then he listens to his king and all that he says. He listens as Romek is the first to speak, notes Weir standing quietly and listening. The stallion too empty for anything. Ianto's eyes swing to Bryn as he speaks and a small smile curls his lips. He can't help but like that boy, as much as it had angered him before...as much as it had roused his protective instinct before. There. That was better. Ianto hadn't been angry, merely protective of his little girl.
A mare he doesn't know speak, Josie and he realizes he needs to get out just a little more now that most of these faces were unfamiliar. Now that there were females and a bigger population in general. It seemed when Offspring had opened the ranks, he had opened the floodgates.
It made Ianto's heart soar to see so many.
Isle speaks and he smile. No doubt he would lend her a hand should she need it, but he wait as the younger boy speaks. Another smile curls his lips. Such eagerness.
Vaughan speaks. Then a tiny little thing, Ashr. "I can stay with Isle. She's not going to want to travel much with that baby at her side Vaughan." He starts with, meandering my way up closer to the front. "I can give her the basics. " Despite her lack of any physical prowess she was likely our greatest asset in the coming time. He sighs softly, and then turns back to Offspring. "I am here for whatever you need me to do." And then he dips his head slightly.
