"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
All had not gone as planned. The gray king had been making his way to the Chamber, his heart pounding frantically as if to break free from his chest. His daughter was in the Chamber, his kingdom mates. But his journey had been stymied by a bone-winged stallion. The stallion had seemed friendly enough, but there had been something within his eyes that Mast couldn’t quite pinpoint. Something more sinister than even his outward appearance. But Mast had followed, his only thought making sure that Topsail was safe and unharmed. Mast hadn’t known enough to recognize the changing of the landscape, and in his haste he did not notice the landscape slowly rolling downward beneath his feet. But the one thing he did notice was the wolves.
They came at him from every grove and alcove of brush, their yellowed eyes pulling hungrily over his lithe body. Wild eyed he backed away, snorting in ill-disguised terror. It was his instinct to flee and by this point, he was running purely on its whim. And so he turned, plunging into the brush…but the wolves would not be denied their meal, thin though he may be. He was still put together of very edible flesh, and judging by the way their ribs poked through their mangy gray fur, they had not feasted in some time. All he could hear as he ran were the snaps of their foul mouths and the eerie call of one of the pack members who had remained behind. Still he ran, farther and faster. Surely the wolves would tire, he thought. Surely they would give up the chase. So hard was he running that he could not concentrate enough to cast his patronus, though he wasn’t entirely sure it would have done any good anyways. The wolves had clearly made up their minds to make him their meal. The gray king dared a moment to glance backwards and he was pleased to see distance separating him from the wolves. He spared himself a moment to slow (but not much), allowing his lungs an extra breath that they so desperately needed.
His moment of reprieve was also his moment of foolishness.
The wolves were far more cunning than he had expected, and the ones chasing him had been little more than a decoy. As he had been running the rest of the pack had been gathering ahead of him, effectively making a border of gnashing teeth. Mast could do nothing, and soon found himself trapped within a snarling circle. Each one eyed him more hungrily than the last. New, foul-smelling fear induced sweat drenched his neck and sides but it wasn’t enough to throw off the wolves and soon one of them leapt forward, its teeth sinking deep into his gaskin. The stallion screamed in fear and fury, wheeling and kicking to the best of his ability. The wolves were relentless though, and for every one he threw off another one stepped into its place. They were on his back, biting at his belly, snapping at his legs. His blood flowed freely from the many wounds and soon his head began to swim. Through the growls and snarls and yelps came a voice, so soft Mast almost missed it. The wolves turned their predatory heads towards it origin, pricking their blood-soaked ears forward. They headed towards it grudgingly, clearly disappointed at being denied such a delightful meal. Mast lay prostate on the ground, his sides heaving and his eyelids fluttering. It would not due, he said to himself, to lose consciousness now. He had to keep fighting, but his tired body had other ideas. With a last effort, he raised his head, choking out a quiet “Help…Me.” before his lids slid shut over his brown eyes.
M A S T
King of Heavens Gates
ooc - this is supposed to be a private thread. so, technically no one should know anything that may go on...thanks!
There is a thick fog creeping through the pines as the skies open and a crack of thunder releases a gentle and pouring rain. All around him the sounds of war carried through the stillness of the evening darkness. Those who attack yell out their guttural war cries from deep within their throats and soon after their victims screams of pain follow. It is all too soon that the stench of fresh death begins to travel towards each of Beqanna's corners, leaving a foul taste in one's lungs and throat.
It is then the earth begins to shake and Tarnished's voice rings across the land as though it has been set up on the loudest projection system you could think of. The stallion's rage could be heard in his tone and it shakes the pines in it's wake, causing them to tremble. With that came the smallest of smiles made up of almost sickening pleasure as it crawls across the jaguar spotted king's features in the middle of the darkness.
It almost pleases him that his friend has finally joined the gray, and with a soft laugh he finds himself for the first time since the start of this entire war, relaxed. He honestly couldn't say he would care if Tarnished destroyed all of Beqanna. If Tarnished wiped it's entire surface clean. Nothing wrong with starting from scratch. The god's could snap their fingers and produce vegetation, then snap their fingers again and create a whole new line of equines with fresh, untainted blood. With it the plants would grow, the lands would form. Kingdoms would be rebuilt and brought back to life and everything would be as it once was. It almost was a nice thought. He almost wished they would do it. That they would just make the whole world rewind and start all over. Would that be so bad? For history to be erased and for the blood to run fresh?
Ah but who was he to think such thoughts. You could say that Demian was becoming crazy. But he wasn't. He just knew better than to question the God's intentions and desires for he always knew that no matter what, they would do what was right for their land.
While the world came crumbling down the war raged on and it's participants fought harder. It was as though they never tired and the sounds of battle ringing nice and loud within their minds was their fuel that kept them going. Too many participants wished only to shed blood and find an excuse to beat their anger in a physical sense. Yet Demian, he was no fighter if we were all being honest. His most strategic moves had been those that had not required much movement on his part. His blindness was most bothersome and it in reality were he to submerge himself within the battlefield his only outcome would be death. His body would be mangled beyond repair and unlike some he wouldn't allow a magician to fix it. He would let the God's do what was right.
He didn't want to live his life a complete mystery. One day he wanted to die. But he wanted it to be a fair fight. A death deserving. It is then a small Raven comes and it takes one turn of his head towards the Raven for the message to be delivered. He laughs then, softly, his head shaking firmly. There was no way he was going to get in the way of his friends rage. Not now. Maybe later. Who knows. He quirks a smile at the bird, shoulders rolling in a gentle shrug before he says, "Ah, I'm quite busy. Please try again later," he is chuckling then and listening to the bird flap away quickly. This was never his war in the first place, and he wasn't about to be ordered about. They had all done things that were terrible they had all made nasty little moves. But he wasn't about to deal with those now and kind as he was, the jaguar king wasn't to be treated like a child, nor would he go into a fight with another full of rage. That's how mistakes are made. Not only that, he had shit to do before he even so much as tried to fight a battle he was heavily outmatched in. Maybe later he'd do it. Just to see how things went. Maybe. But for now, now he knew it was best not to get in the way of Tarnished.
It was then he hears the sounds of the valley's wolves eerie cries. They pull him from his thoughts fluidly and he listens to their excited yips, and their short howls signaling the start of a hunt. The sound of hoof beats constantly quickening fill the air and his heartbeat races. He stands in the trees listening as the pack herds the stallion closer and he can sense the other's fear. It is then he hears them attack. He can hear the scrape of claws and teeth against flesh and then he can hear the horse as it begins to fall.
There is nothing like the sound of a hunt that of taking down an animal to send a chill down one's spine. It is one of the most natural parts of life. Yet before it can be completed, before they can rip out their prey's throat, he steps from the trees, voice soft as he commands them to cease. He slowly steps forward, hooves kicking up the soft dirt as the rain slowly beat down against them. He stops to where his head is hanging over the Gate's king, his quiet plee and then gentle plop of his head making him tilt his head slightly.
It is then the thunder cracks and the lightning fills the sky, lighting up the small clearing. The two could be seen in the darkness lit with a blue haze of light. A winged spotted stallion standing over another before finally the space grew dark again only the slight haze of Demian's spots poking through the fog. And then suddenly he is reaching a hoof out and tapping it against the other's skull with one nice knock. "Excuse you, you're laying dead on my kingdom and I don't really appreciate that. I will help you, but first thing's first... Up and at-em kiddo, I don't have the time."
Time to get his ball rolling, don't you think?
ooc: i don't know what this is :| it took a weird turn? anywhoooo.....
He wasn’t prone to begging, but he had long since learned that desperate times called for desperate measures. He had failed his kingdom, and the weight of that alone was enough to crush his soul. There would never be enough lifetimes for him to right all of his wrongs, but perhaps he could start trying now. Start here in the cold dark forest of an enemy kingdom, lying at the feet of an enemy king. If he only had one more breath in his body, he would use it to beg for the help he so desperately needed.
He could barely hear the winged stallions hoof falls over his own ragged breathing. It took an immense effort for him to open his eyes but he did, struggling to focus on the spotted king. There were things that needed doing, wrongs that needed righting, and Mast would not do it from the forest floor. Ignoring the sarcasm in Demian’s voice Mast struggled to his feet. It would appear that the grey had risen at the others request, but to the contrary; Mast had some small amount of dignity left within his ailing body. “I was only lying dead because of your bone-winged decoy and froth-jawed pack of wolves.” Mast choked, shivering slightly from the copious amounts of blood lost. Even still it flowed freely down his chest and legs but for the time being he ignored it, ignored the physical pain. It paled in comparison to mental anguish anyways. Coughing once he turned his glazed eyes back to Demian, steeling himself for the words he knew he needed to say. They tasted like bile, hot and sour; but he longed to spit them out. Finally when it seemed he could hold them in no longer, they spilled from his mouth. “I asked for help. My kingdom is struggling. This war has changed everything. I have a proposal.” he said, his voice strong even as his knees shook. “Give me the Valleys alliance, and I will give you not only my daughter, but my throne as well. Topsail can stay here; rumor has it your queen as been more than absent. She is strong, and a telepath. But the Valley must align with the Gates for her to stay, and for you to take my throne.”
The words tasted bitter, and he hated himself for even saying them.
It was almost fate the way the wolves had brought the valley king to him. Most thought he had been absent from the war yet he, unlike many, had chosen to focus on an entirely different part of it. He had ffollowed the traitor to the valley and in turn had been wounded, almost fatally I'm attempt to make his own mark in the war. I was this that made Demian respect him. He hadn't expected to see such a bold move made by a gates king.
It is when he hears the stallion stand that his brow rises slightly and a small small tilts at the corners of his lips. "Ah, but you must admit. It was quite an effective form of attack." He pauses then, shoulders rolling slightly as he waits ffor what he knows is coming. That simple cy for help. He would never see it as a form of cowardice, no. He would see it as something more.
It is then he starts speaking, grabbing the jaguar kings attention fully aand tilting his head he muses slightly to himself. "You shall recieved your help, Mast of the Gates." He smiles then. "Though I do not want your throne. I am growing tired of ruling and have done the valley well so far. Instead of myself, I ask for my son to be put on your throne, and I shall place your daughter on my own. It will give me an excuse to step down. In this trade you will have your alliance, and your home and mine will be protected. As will you and your family."
He pauses for a moment before sighing with what was it... relief? "Your proposal is now reality. Bring your daughter here. The throne will be hers before she arrives, I expect the same for my son."
Taking a few steps back he laughs softly when he finally smells the blood and can feel a distinct pull towards the Chamber. His father had finally arrived. "I must leave you now. Fate is dragging me in another direction, but to solidify this agreement, I will have Eight come and heal you. Goodbye, Mast." With a short nod he turns towards the pines and disappears into them, heading towards the chamber where carnage waited and tarnished wreaked havoc.
Ooc: ew ew ew. Tannor obvs. Drained me.
BUT to line out what just happened:
1. Mast asks for help
2. Demian offers.
3 mast makes proposal of putting topsail next to demian on throne and giving him his kingdom.
4. Demian counter offers to relinquish his throne to topsail in return for mast to relinquish his throne to tannor in exchange for protection and an alliance
5. Demian solidifies this agreement.
6. Demian disappears to chamber for carnage
7. Demian sends eight to help mast
Mast's reign has ended at this point and he will be in hiding
Demian's reign has ended at this point aaand he's going to go make some babies and be retired and stuffz Topsail is now queen of the valley. Tannor is now king of the gates.
