Event 

shall we begin? | HERD MEETING

@[Antiope] 05-26-2019 @ 02:07 PM
#1
Coastdiver

Antiope

RankBaroness
LevelTwo
ClassBattle Magus
Gender & HeightMare, 20hh
Age & Season11 Spring ✿
Crystals 240  ✦
WriterMallory, 44 posts
All was quiet, yet the gilt sovereign couldn't remain still. Granted, Antiope had never been one for idle pleasures; she was always moving, training, overseeing some aspect of upkeep for her kingdom. Yet, it wasn't quite due to being restlessness...perhaps adrenaline? Excitement? The uncertainty of everything? She had been ready to greet the day with a clash of metal, the scrape of teeth, the scent of sweat tickling her nose, though today was not the day. 

No. There would be more planning before her latest plan came to fruition, and hopefully the blessings from those who called her their sovereign.

Instead of dawning parts of her armor, as typical for Antiope on most days, the gold and bronze pegasus went without. It would be easier to navigate the mountains without the additional weight, now that winter had descended upon them. Only her burnished cloak graced her shoulders, meant to stave off the worst of the glacial winds. Though winter had only just begun, the North was already bearing the brunt of the change in weather. Snowflakes fell softly, though Antiope was not followed by the idyllic picture that was painted all around her. Soon enough, blizzards would descend upon the snowcapped mountains. Then, they would all be put to the test to survive.

With a flurry of golden feathers, the mare landed atop a rocky outpost. Snow kicked up with her landing and Antiope could feel the stone beneath her hooves quake, but she paid little heed to it. With her red cloak and dark golden hair tossing in the wintry breeze, Antiope's garnet gaze narrowed as she peered upon the horizon. Drawing herself up to stand tall and proud, her deep raspy voice called out to all those who would listen: "Horses of Ambrosius, come to me!" The quiet of the mountains meant Antiope did not have to try hard for her voice to carry, for which she was grateful for.

As the last rings of her voice trailed away, Antiope remained steadfast and proud. Soon, her housemen would come...She just had to be patient.

tagged: All of Ambrosius!
notes: Killing two birds with one stone here - those who want another rank can ask for it and Antiope will be announcing their winter solstice event!
"Speech!" Thoughts!

image | coding
@[Marrow] 05-26-2019 @ 08:19 PM
#2
Pathfinder

Marrow

RankPathfinder
LevelTwo
ClassBerserker
Gender & HeightStallion, 16.2hh
Age & Season5 Spring ✿
Crystals 105  ✦
WriterSoupi, 27 posts

~ Marrow ~

i am dumb to tell the weather's wind

Like he'd promised (perhaps more to himself then aloud), Marrow hadn't left Kismet's side since their reunion in the fall. Despite his aloof nature that strangled his focus into tunnel vision Marrow tried not to be as self centered has he'd once been. Really, it had only been after slinking away in the cloak of night and taking to the public roads that he'd realized just how comfortable and privileged his life had made him. When he was hungry the only person who could feed him was himself, and he wasn't in the position to bake himself sweet rolls like he'd once snacked upon most gluttonously. While the point could be argued that his actions weighed more heavily upon those around him when he was a prince (his offense could shackle someone, his laughter boom business, and his interest lure the populace), the responsibility he had to those around him now was of a different coin. Perhaps not as gilt and shiny, but still polished enough to hold value.

They were his peers now, even if some still eyed the royal blood and mannerisms that hadn't yet watered down. However he acted could easily fall upon them, and those closest to him, faster than before. Doctrine and treaties had to be debated in his previous life, but here in Slidr? As a common man? His prior status wouldn't help him if he was caught winking at the wrong lady or picking fruit from the wrong tree. So he made a promise - one that was resolute and he took seriously. It was pertinent to him to show Kismet that despite his flaws that he truly cared. They had traipsed Ambrosius' northern realm since the day she'd agreed to return with him. Never a single day did they spend in the same place, but rather Marrow carved new paths through the pine and over the rock until they could only witness breath taking views of majestic blue mountains and frozen shores. It was the very least he could do - keep them moving, keep their wanderlust as curbed as all possible. Did she know that they couldn't leave? He wasn't entirely sure... and, frankly, terrified to tell her.

So he covered the guilt by throwing ever shred of his being into keeping Kismet content. Finally, after long weeks, it was time to actually see where the people of the Ambrosius banner lived. Virgin snow wept silently from the heavens, swaying weightlessly back and forth as the day's first snow greeted them home. Marrow's hooves were lustrous beneath the icy down, winking in the sunlight as he finally burst from a thicket of fir and onto a trodden path. Silver brume rose from his nostrils as he looked first left, then right, eyeing the milling bodies as they all happened to stray in one direction. Was there some sort of event? Despite the unknown and curious situation facing them, Marrow tossed a smiling face back towards the amaranthine Kismet - who he'd given his cloak to to help keep her warm in the frigid Northern temperatures. "Who knows, maybe there's some sort of show?" he mused to her, voice low as his baroque limbs put him in line behind some of the other milling bodies. Of course, he could have asked, but he hadn't the mind. His attention was fully upon the mare at his side.

It wasn't a show, though, much to Marrow's disappointment. After years in the wilderness, scrounging for berries and the last bit of grass that dared survive through the oncoming cold, Marrow would never deny his desire for the comforts of civilization. The very need had brought him into acquaintance with Kismet, after all. Bodies were congesting at a center point, all murmuring or standing in reverent silence as a golden brown mare stood at their epicenter. Crimson cloak decorated her back and carmine eyes roved the gathering populace with significance. As Marrow's hooves shuffled to a halt in the muddied ground, he squinted at the woman from a distance. He recognized her - albeit from a fleeting meeting. How could he have forgotten?

"The sovereign..." he whispered to Kismet, but also to himself as a verbal reminder. "She saved me during the avalanche. Made sure I got to higher ground."



TAGGED: Antiope, Kismet
WC: 710
MUSE: 3.5/5
OOC: this got away from me wow


coding © soupi
image © haraima of dA






powerplay excused
within reasonable limits!
always tag responses.

@[Skaug] 05-27-2019 @ 07:02 PM
#3
Pathfinder

Skaug

RankPathfinder
LevelTwo
ClassBerserker
Gender & HeightStallion, 18hh
Age & Season11 Autumn ☁
Crystals 145  ✦
WriterSoupi, 34 posts

SKAUG


NEVER FORGET WHAT YOU ARE


Things had been quiet since the avalanche. Skaug had taken it upon himself to remain on the fringe of the Ambrosius society - not because he disliked his kin but his inner need to protect. Caramel tipped feathers road the mountain gusts for hours upon the day, surveying the surrounding lands of Fjalltindr, scoping out the reaches of Fjollottr, and even assessing the falls of Fell. There was little the hessian could physically do to prevent any sort of natural calamity but perhaps they could be better prepared in the future. Perhaps some sort of geographical information he'd find in his repetitive beholding. Some of his worries had faded when the lush verdant Spring and Sommar had nestled into the North, bringing with it times of wet sod and fawns. But even before the first flakes of dreary snow fell from the heaven's Skaug knew that Vinter was quickly approaching.

Steely brume had risen from his nostrils for weeks now, thickening as the chill continued to push into frost and ice. Now, seeing the weightless precipitation sway toward's the mortal realm, Skaug held trepidation in his heart. A deep exhale spilled the smokey vapor from his muzzle as if a sleeping dragon as he watched the crystalline flakes - all individual, delicate, and beautiful - land upon the pewter rocks. Absently he wondered how the starlit Sariel was faring with the very near caution of the oncoming snow, and if she too held fear that another disaster awaited them when the mountains grew too pregnant with their weight.

Though Skaug didn't have to ponder long whether he was the only Northern soul contemplating the dangers of the frozen months. Lazily his harks pricked forward at the summons, swimming through a sea of umber mane and forelock that fell upon his baroque figure in disarray. Windswept and disheveled, he rose his scorched gaze towards the inner realm, quartz visionaries blinking in their just-off-beat rhythm. At his ivory striped hinds his leonine tail snapped audibly. He'd lived in this realm an entirety of a year now without having seen the sovereign - was even surprised to find it a female's strong voice that demanded his attention. Last he had served a queen, she had razed a forest kingdom to the ground and sacrificed their prince and king. Would this matriarch be any different?

There was a short time that the stallion debated forgoing the meeting all together, to tighten the clasps of his bear fur cloak and take back tot he skies. While he filled the void of his time with purpose, some sort of job, that kept the darker thoughts astray Skaug hadn't bridged the gap back into public society. It still felt strange... he still felt wrong among them, a commoner, a peer.... after all he'd done and supported in the name of loyalty. But what was he without it? What would he do, or where would he go without devotion? It was a curse and a blessing. While it promised protection and kinship there was always a price, be it the pillage of others or slaughter of innocents. He squinted into the day, watching others as they milled through the trees below, following the bugle.

Was this queen any different?

He lingered still some more until coming to his final conclusion... there was only one way to find out. First his larger wings unfurled, followed closely there after by the smaller set nestled beneath them. From his vantage he leapt, riding the brisk zephyrs on a glide down towards the gathering masses. But he didn't want to draw more attention than his flight would already garner, and adjusted his trajectory to bring him sweeping upon one of the lesser used paths that funneled towards their meeting point. Slate hooves braced for the impact as terra firma came quickly to him, only to locked his hocks and knees as contact was made. His joints screeched, but the beast of a male jogged forward with the momentum as he landed, aging bones protesting with every stride. "Getting too old for this..." he cursed, tail lashing again as he slowed to a walk. He could already spy the amassing crowd, the golden queen and her garnet cloth, and figured he'd find a place in the back.


W C: 712
T A G: None
M U S E: 3/5
V O I C E: Jeffrey Dean Morgan
O O C: ...


YOU ARE A MURDERER
NO MATTER HOW BELOVED

powerplay allowed
within reasonable limits!

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