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| rally the forces; time to save him [the wyvern] | |||||
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| Tweet Topic Started: Nov 30 2015, 11:17 AM (216 Views) | |||||
| ƒierce | Nov 30 2015, 11:17 AM Post #1 | ||||
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i've not yet begun to defile myself.
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It was with great trepidation that the blue roan overo brought his small band further into Kestrel's Keep. The urge to run sent shivers down his spine, but the will and determination to help Kestrel kept them moving. The stallion had brought the group of six to the Dreamscape, forsaking the Faults. They had numbered nine before, but Shtriga had taken Vitae and Isonade with her, not wanting to bring back any of the dead. The thought of her little colt running about had been too much for her. The dead were dead to her, and she would not bring him back. She wouldn't stand in their way of seeing their loved ones. Upon clearer thinking on their journey, Martyr had thought about bringing back his mother and Emerson. Sapphire Moon had likely died with Viral in her thoughts, right around the time that Viral disappeared. How long ago it seemed. With her revived, he didn't know how to tell her that no one had ever found Viral and he was likely dead since then. That had been a lifetime ago for them all. And Emerson, he exhaled slowly, she had died protecting Stheno. Something he was almost sure that Emerson wouldn't want taken from her. So, two of the most important mares in his life would remain dead and buried, despite however much that pained him. So, Martyr brought them to the Dreamscape, young Stheno with them, to aid Kestrel however they could. Rivulet would not leave her sister alone, even though Razada was surrounded by family who would defend her. The stallion had been surprised that she didn't want her mother back, but Rivulet had felt it best for her mother. She secretly thought she would be protecting Brazen from Tribulation's wrath of conceiving a child with another. The six horses pushed deeper into Kestrel's Keep, having not sighted the wyvern yet, but hoofbeats startled them. MARTYR, RIVULET, STHENO, SÉMILLON and VERVAIN simply wish to aid Kestrel. A young mare, the deepest of bays, with her wild purple and red flecked eyes watched them take her in calmly. She was neither nervous nor afraid. In fact, she was rather stoic and emotionless. She thought the world ought to burn with how placid the alliances had become. This was Hollow, daughter of Steele and Konsair, granddaughter to Thane and Caedes. At having the chance, she was ready to bring back the cantankerous Friesian mare. It would not bode well for those around her. Martyr greeted the maiden with some recognition. Hollow had been at the meeting in Old Reed Mountain when Kestrel had sacrificed himself for the Scourge. They had seen him fall from the skies. She merely inclined her head a few degrees, paying neither homage nor the slightest bit of courtesy. He wasn't offended in the least and did not ask where her uncle, Ryse of Canary's Carnage, was. Hollow was her own mare; Martyr couldn't imagine that Ryse could tell her what to do. The bay maiden joined their group only loosely, walking with them in no particular direction as they searched for the wyvern. HOLLOW wishes to bring back CAEDES and aid Kestrel to the end. Edited by ƒierce, Jan 3 2016, 02:32 PM.
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| ƒierce | Nov 30 2015, 11:31 AM Post #2 | ||||
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i've not yet begun to defile myself.
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BEING EDITED The figure, now seen in detail, was a stallion. Bay dun, littered with spots and haunted mismatched eyes. This was Finnigan, son to Howl who died at his birth and Draconian, who he witnessed dying after a battle. The death of his sire lingered about him the an atmosphere of morbid decay, keeping him from living the life thought he was going to have. In his mind, Draconian shouldn't have died. So, he was siding with Kestrel to right the wrongs done to his father. Finnigan greeted the blue overo with a nod, void of emotion. They did not greet each other as friends or enemies. They were neither. Simply comrades in the same cause. So, the group of five became six, and they continued on. FINNIGAN wishes to bring back DRACONIAN. Within a few minutes, three more added to the group. These were children of Zerik, whose name Martyr recognized. The rose gray had died some years ago, but the three were rallying to make him come back. İskender, with his mismatched eyes and hard gaze, made it seem to Martyr that he would do anything to bring back his father. And Martyr was right to assume as much. The rose gray maiden in their trio was Fatale. She seemed cool and happy to be getting her sire back, but she also wished to bring back her brother Cesare. He died too young, and she wished to right that. Their third member was Vermillion, who seemed willing to bring back their father but seemed to desire someone else. İSKENDER wants to bring back ZERIK. FATALE wants to bring back CESARE. VERMILLION hasn't decided who she wants back. The group of nine strode forward, looking for the wyvern (who may or may not want to eat them) and others who would join their cause. Edited by ƒierce, Dec 3 2015, 03:46 PM.
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| K e s t r e l | Jan 3 2016, 12:01 PM Post #3 | ||||
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[justify=600]Sensing the presence of life in the void that was the Keep, the wyvern's mind strained to free itself from the prison of the Scourge. He could feel his legs moving him through the cavern, away from the light of the entrance; he could feel the cold stone of the walls as his wings brushed against them. Yet he was not in control, he was not the one making his legs move, not the one allowing his precious wings to scrape and catch and tear. This sensation was far worse than that of the watery dungeon in which his beloved creations had locked him away. This was not his sensibilities aging while his body did not. This was not him and he was desperate to see this imprisonment end. Kestrel fought each footstep with every ounce of will he possessed, but it made no difference. He was merely a passenger to this body now, paralyzed and incompatible with its muscles and fibers. But, he surmised, once he had regained control. Once he had taken his body back and fought the Scourge into the deep recesses of his mind. And, if he had done it once, he could do it again. Another footstep. Then another. Scrrrrape on the cold stone walls. Another footstep. He had to turn around. He had to get back to the lives he sensed were waiting not far beyond the cavern entrance. You belong to usssss, now... the Scourge hissed, and Kestrel could feel his mouth opening to speak the words. Your creationsssss cannot help you...they wishhhh to ssssee you contained...foreverrrrr... Suddenly, he had it. His legs stopped moving. His wings, they didn't scrape. Enraged by their arrogance, the wyvern had seized authority once more. He turned, desperate and floundering, clawing his way through the caverns and back toward the light, a roar erupting from his throat as he did so. Every movement was a struggle but his fury seemed to keep the Scourge at bay. Bursting through the entry, he spread his great, bloodied wings and took to the skies, his great head tilting this way and that as his side-situated eyes scanned the surface for signs of life.[/justify] Edited by K e s t r e l, Jan 3 2016, 12:01 PM.
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