They say it's what you make, I say it's up to fate [KINGDOM]

[Nymphetamine]

nymphetamine- purple

Nymphetamine heard the call, some secret of all rulers, the ability to bellow across an entire kingdom. While the blood bay had not been a part of the main battle, he had gone to Shaytan, his then caste leader to aid in keeping her calm, of that had been his intent. Everything went to sideways when, long story short, a crazed Gates member attacked a chamber foal and Nymph killed the brute. He had used his necromancy, a power that draws on his own energy and could kill him if he were not careful, and the event left him extremely drained. Since then he had holed up in a nook, oh yeah and met one of his kids. a spirited little thing.

Getting to the meeting ground was a slightly longer process he still was body sore from the ordeal and his muscles fought against their full extensions. But the necromancer made it there in decent time. Heart raced, and nostrils flared as he waited. He had every right to be nervous. The war had brought forward the truth, that Nymphetamine had come to Chamber to spy for Gates, he was a double agent. In the end, Gates abandoned him as, just as they didn't show up in the war. That and Gates members attacking innocent children... it was enough to make him turn his back on the "morally higher" and side with Chamber.

Nothing had happened, nor been said sense, and it was impossible to read the new King's glance as he settled in among the crowd. Killdare was obviously changed by the fairies. and the Smokey nature of his new abilities suited him. Nymph was anxious and switched hit weight as he waited those last moments for the king to speak. And just like that... the anxiety lifted. Killdare spoke to their valor and efforts, and then he got a promotion. The truth came out and Killdare didn't wish to banish him. His actions must have spoken louder than his words in the end. As per usual, there was a small amount of jest thrown in. It had been their way, and he didn't think he could change it now. When the king finished he gave a simple nod, "I'm honored, thank you, I'll make sure my words are as sharp Siberians molars, my lord." He joked, a smirk on his face, but he was truly honored.

He listened to the rest, and as Killdare had cut him the largest of breaks he would support and enforce all that the king wished, as it made sense and wasn't obscured. Killdare described his plan, and then dismiss the meeting, saying they would be off to the Tundra. A trek like that would require more rest to heal his body. The reddish stallion made sure Killdare saw his bigger than normal nod, truly meant as a small bow, it was important to the conjurer that his king knew how grateful he was for all he had granted him. Mushy, sure. Corny, sure. But had it been Straia, he'd be dead. He left soon after, he had to prepare for the journey ahead.

Nymphetamine

in my heart, that barless prison
discolours all with tunnel vision