11-04-2018, 10:36 PM
The kelpie stirs, rattled by the continuous and novel activity on the tropical island. His face is twisted into a scowl and yet it still remains impossibly handsome. He peers out from the water to where Brennen has summoned the Krakens. The most recent call was more discerning than the first; he is no Brother and so his only indication that they were gathering is the shuffle of hooves on once quiet shores.
That had been enough to rouse him, and the sapphire and gold creature rises from the water near those assembled.
Joining them is beyond his capability (Ivar has never been especially fond of groups of men) but he is clearly present, standing off to the side like some bejeweled outsider. Less an outsider than the green-haired stallion though, the metallic beast who steps up to offer his protection to the Brothers who stay.
Ivar’s lip curls, revealing a surprising number of glittering white teeth. With the Krakens fleeing to the north, the kelpie had seen an opportunity to make good on his boast to Yidhra. The tiny western island had only been large enough for the five of them, and Ivar’s appetite is unending. Expansion was inevitable, and the plague does not frighten him.
Where there fewer witnesses, the kelpie might have taken his chance. Surely iron will sink in the ocean; he imagines for a moment the ways it might corrode in the salt water. But there are too many eyes and the kelpie is brave but not immortal. There are times when caution tempers his instinct. The piebald creature remains silent, though it is clear from his sneer what Ivar thinks of this attempt to take Ischia away from him.
ooc tldr; ivar has (mentally) declared himself king of ischia ?
That had been enough to rouse him, and the sapphire and gold creature rises from the water near those assembled.
Joining them is beyond his capability (Ivar has never been especially fond of groups of men) but he is clearly present, standing off to the side like some bejeweled outsider. Less an outsider than the green-haired stallion though, the metallic beast who steps up to offer his protection to the Brothers who stay.
Ivar’s lip curls, revealing a surprising number of glittering white teeth. With the Krakens fleeing to the north, the kelpie had seen an opportunity to make good on his boast to Yidhra. The tiny western island had only been large enough for the five of them, and Ivar’s appetite is unending. Expansion was inevitable, and the plague does not frighten him.
Where there fewer witnesses, the kelpie might have taken his chance. Surely iron will sink in the ocean; he imagines for a moment the ways it might corrode in the salt water. But there are too many eyes and the kelpie is brave but not immortal. There are times when caution tempers his instinct. The piebald creature remains silent, though it is clear from his sneer what Ivar thinks of this attempt to take Ischia away from him.
ooc tldr; ivar has (mentally) declared himself king of ischia ?