| Welcome wanderer! You seem to have stumbled across Kormada, a wild horse roleplay approaching its seven year anniversary on the net. We are a very friendly and very active community of players of all ages and experience levels. So take a look around, join us, and experience the chaos of life on a planet cheating death with every day of continued existence. You're currently viewing our forum as a guest. This means you are limited to certain areas of the board and there are some features you can't use. If you join our community, you'll be able to access member-only sections, and use many member-only features such as customizing your profile, sending personal messages, and voting in polls. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free. Join Kormada and enter the realm! If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features: |
| Uneasy Feelings | |
|---|---|
| Topic Started: Apr 25 2011, 10:38 PM (108 Views) | |
| Fearless | Apr 25 2011, 10:38 PM Post #1 |
|
Esroh Large hooves made little sound as a raven black stallion entered the Lullen. It had been on his mental list for quite some time now to visit here as Viral urged, but he just never got around to it, simply. Now he was here, though, for the same reason he went to Viral. Although another intention that is unbeknownst to Rowan is that he is here to see if his alliance with Viral is still intact and strong. He was quite unsettled, though. He heard the legendary Viral had been overthrown by Friction, a more sinister stallion in the Clydesdale’s mind. Esroh had thought the chestnut unbeatable, but all great things come to an end, or at least a standstill. Actually, Esroh didn't believe for one second that Viral would allow Friction to walk all over him without another battle, and it was most certainly not the end. Still, unsettling feelings circled his heart, and he wondered how he could possibly help Viral re-attain his position. Viral had beaten the other stallion once, right? Or were they just stories? Have they ever fought? Irritation crept into his clouded mind, but he pushed those thoughts aside and focused on the task at hand. He would have normally called out, but with the shift in power and equilibrium within the herds around Southern Mainland, he was always careful to tread very quietly. Not that he was blundering fool before. So instead, Esroh strode silently yet steadily to the middle of the land, where he calmly stopped and waited. He did not relax his posture, and his eyes never quite moving. He wasn't nervous, just treading with caution. He let his lids half close over his sinister scarlet eyes, but he was hardly sleepy. He wondered who this Rowan character was; he heard the initial image: zebra mix, small yet lethal, all that wonderful stuff. He never actually met the stallion, and he sure wasn’t judging him. Esroh had grown quite humbled, and his arrogance and quick-to-judge attitude was fading into a quick-witted, collected, and respectable horse with quiet confidence. Still, if anyone set him off, he was soon to put them in their place without a thought to it. Esroh himself topped twenty hands, all 1350 pounds of muscle with a hint of finish around his abdomen. He had a startling raven black hide with clean alabaster painting over his legs, and a thick stroke down his head to fade into a pink muzzle. His mane was only just under medium length; however his black tail was growing gorgeously. From the knee and hocks down he was generously feathered, but even more so with his mass. He was filled out and looked spectacular yet frightening with his sheer size and searing red eyes. His face was a mask of cool collection, respect, yet held a quiet firmness to them as opposed his usual hardened eyes with more than a hint of steel and malice. Long ago he did away with up-front arrogance and meanness; it was useless here. He was still one to deject politics of these chain herds, but he grew an understanding to them and was not all that bad in dealing with them. Edited by Fearless, Apr 25 2011, 10:39 PM.
|
| [ OFFLINE ] [ PROFILE ] | [ QUOTE POST ] [ GO TO TOP ] |
| Magnanimous | Apr 25 2011, 11:48 PM Post #2 |
|
ROWAN Now, Rowan is a relatively small stallion. And it could be argued that he has a Napolean complex; the attitude, the power-hungriness, the flirtation with anyone who walks. In fact, the Zebroid exhibits several symptoms of a little man complex. But honestly, he has no conscious issues with his height. Not until this new visitor shows up. Content in his aspen grove, Rowan notices the scent in a timely manner; it isn't that of Shetan, or any of his relatives. No call accompanies it, so he assumes it isn't very important. But on second thought, he recalculates; there was an upset in the Mainland. Perhaps this was only a way to further it. So with a low, soft call for his son, Rowan moves to greet his intruder. As he approaches the main forest, where all visitors tend to stop, Gethin appears by his side. His son is almost two years old now, and Rowan is teaching the colt what he needs to know to claim a land and herd of his own. In fact, he plans on sending him to the Bachelor herd sometime soon; battle experience and other males would be good for the colt. After he becomes established there, Rowan will find an ally or two, match Gethin up with a perfect mate, and send him to claim one of the lands not held by a valuable Dark in the Mainland. The creation of a new herd, and ally, for both Viral and himself, along with Caius and any of Viral's other offspring could be critical, what with Friction trying to rise up against them. Not to mention the fact that Gethin could attack Orion an Ares, where Rowan could not do them harm. As they reach their destination, Gethin offers a soft laugh before saying, "Look at this brute, Father." The sight that meets Rowan's eyes when he glances up is a slightly bothersome one; the stallion who awaits him and Gethin is massive; 20 hands at least, and multiple heads taller than the Zebroid. He look peaceful enough, though, and while no challenge has been issued Rowan finds himself immediately sizing up his could-be competition. The smaller, agile Zebroid would have speed on his side; not to mention experience, and the ability to attack lower--near the vital muscles such as hamstrings or the fragile cannon, pastern and patella bones. Before Rowan even arrives at a conversational distance with this male, he has an attack plan sized up and ready to go. Because of this, his confident swagger remains, and as usual, one ear is tipped forward with the second rotating once before pinning itself to his mane. He stops, just feet short of the male, and Gethin comes to a still beside him. Rowan can sense the tension in his son's body, and softly touches his muzzle to the small yearling's shoulder once, in an attempt to tell him to relax. Some tension leaves the blood-bay pintaloosa, but still his body is held in an instinctively defensive position. Rowan, on the other hand, is utterly relaxed. He waits a few moments before letting his drawl forth, the words steely-smooth with his patent edge of confidence and thinly-veiled poison as they rolled off his tongue. "Can I help you, dear?" A confident and demeaning smirk is sent towards the intruder at the pet name; it's rather a favorite of his when he wants to be sarcastic. It always incites such lovely reactions. Rowan lives for this; as the adrenaline pumps through his body, he feels himself soar higher and higher, and in preparation for this little chat, his mind is working overtime. It's been far to long since he had a nice, interesting conversation. He can't wait. Edited by Magnanimous, Apr 27 2011, 02:56 PM.
|
| [ OFFLINE ] [ PROFILE ] | [ QUOTE POST ] [ GO TO TOP ] |
| Fearless | Apr 27 2011, 07:56 PM Post #3 |
|
The black stallion does not have to wait long before hoof falls reach his leaf-shaped ears. They slowly swivel, followed by the head, to look at the leader of this land. His neutral mask is still intact, and he quietly regards the little stallion that faces him. He could see the striped horse was sizing him up, and Esroh gives a small smirk. Yes, the stallion was probably more nimble than he, and has probably been through many battles, but he should not side step the fact that Esroh is a worthy opponent. He may not be small and agile, but he is certainly just as deadly. If he were to step on the little pasterns or so much as run into him, the stallion would shatter. A combination of both, he would be crippled for life. Weight was also a good thing, though Esroh sometimes wished more than once that he could be nimble at times. He easily and slowly spins to face them, muscles rippling and flexing under his raven black coat. His scarlet eyes calmly turn subtle attention to the younger horse at the zebroid's side. No doubt he is a year or so, Esroh thought, for he wasn't as made as a horse that averaged around three or four. He was decently enough built, though small. The stallion, who Viral called Rowan, had to reassure the small colt. Esroh looked on indifferently as they spent a moment doing that. Rowan appeared relaxed, but he knew all Darks were more or less good at hiding what they truly felt. Looks could be quite deceiving, Esroh thought with a faint, unnoticeable smirk. As Esroh towered over the striped stallion, he couldn’t help but look down upon him. In fact, he wasn’t trying to appear superior or anything; his head was level with his muscular shoulders. He couldn’t care less about trying to appear like a royal bad boy. He struck a menacing yet magnificent image already. Many thanks to his lineage of absolutely huge Clydesdale ancestors. The stallion then returned his attention to the massive stallion in front of him. Esroh tipped his head to the side in a small nod of greeting, although done for mere mockery. Rowan took him in a moment before speaking. His sarcastic words were not lost on Esroh, who gave a cold, emotionless and completely skin crawling smile. Why, I am looking for the fairest of them all, he said with no kindness, and gracious and sickly sweet snarl hinting he would play along. He then grew tired of the game this horse would no doubt put on if he kept it up. One thing was for sure, this horse would not get a rise out of Esroh. Viral sent me here to… take care of business. He said with another chilling smile. He had a smoky, rough, yet quiet voice that set many a horse on edge. With a bad boy like Rowan, probably not so much, but Esroh couldn’t care less. In fact, he had gotten Viral as an ally and would be just fine with him alone. Still, he set Esroh here because he was a ‘trusted’ ally. He sure seemed trustworthy with his quietness about the whole ordeal dealing with Friction. Viral had not warned him that this small stallion had a mouth on him. Indeed, Esroh wouldn’t mind stepping on him and crippling him the rest of his life, but he knew the importance of alliances. Of course, this little horse didn’t know he was sent here to make any such thing. In fact, it sounded more or less like that ‘taking care of business’ would mean ‘taking out the trash’. Again, Esroh didn’t mind if this was a mistaken interpretation, for that is what it was designed to be. The large stallion may not care for politics, but he was master at mind games and scares. So was, it would seem, Rowan. Esroh knew they would get along just peachy. Yes, just peachy. He thought with a smoky chuckle. |
| [ OFFLINE ] [ PROFILE ] | [ QUOTE POST ] [ GO TO TOP ] |
| Magnanimous | May 2 2011, 10:02 PM Post #4 |
|
ooc-this shall be nowhere as lovely as yours. i apologize, but it is a reply. =/ plus im on pain drugs. so if it doesn't make sense, i apologize. ROWAN It is all the zebroid can do to keep from smiling triumphantly, a amused laugh desiring to leave his lungs. The male in front of him does not beat around the bush at all; this is a quality Rowan can admire in others. Whilst his own conversations with Viral may be convoluted and laden with hidden meaning and impact, he so admires those that are straight and to the point. It's a skill he never quite developed. This male doesn't even flinch from the words; most are at least a little taken aback upon hearing the snark to leave the smallish stallion's maw. He does not cut an impressive figure, such as this stranger does; Rowan knows his stripes, combined with the cherry bay and the small stature are not imposing. He has leveled with that, and allowed his substantial wits to make up for it. In response to the words, all the closely-controlled Zebroid does offer is an icy smirk, not bothering to respond yet; while the barbs are numerous, there is no point in delaying what is sure to come. Whether this male wants a battle or something else, Rowan will bite; no harm will come from allowing him to speak his mind. The following words offered induce a large reaction from Rowan--or as large as he will allow. His eyes sharpen quickly, and focus icily upon the male. One ear pulls back, pinned into his short forelock. The immediacy of the words was really what tripped up this stallion. Perhaps he wasn't aware of the intricities of the relationship of the neighbor-stallions. Practically family, Viral knew well enough what Rowan's reaction would be to a warning through an outside source; and not a relative, or some other important equine. Some unknown male traipsing in and making a statement so bold--Rowan really only had a desire to rip out his throat. (Logically, it may not go that way. But these are Rowan's thoughts we are perusing, so it stands to reason that in them he wins.) Even when Viral and Rowan had spoken of the recent situation with Friction, no threats had been issued so boldly from the very mouth of the deliverer. And any who knew Viral knew that the Chestnut did his own dirty work. He was no Morte to go through back-alleys; If someone needed to be dealt with, he was the only one who would do it. So now Rowan is confident that this stallion is here to play with him; for what reason, he hasn't decided. But obviously he knows of the rocky state of the Mainland and it's inhabitants; Destined, perhaps, to be involved in the politics somehow? So, a course of action decided on, Rowan snorts amusedly, a single black-tipped ear flickering in his tell for annoyance. "Felt like taking matters into our own hands, did we pet?" An amused glance is offered, Rowan's black eyes glittering. "If you knew anything of Viral, you would know your error." A patient sigh, like Rowan is talking to a child is emitted, and allowing a few seconds for his words to sink in he waits before he continues. "What are you here for, exactly?" A slight eye roll is issued, and the Zebroid completes his speech; "And save the theatrics. We've no time for games." |
| [ OFFLINE ] [ PROFILE ] | [ QUOTE POST ] [ GO TO TOP ] |
| 1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous) | |
| « Previous Topic · Bitter Lullen · Next Topic » |
6:39 PM May 18