"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
10-15-2015, 01:15 PM (This post was last modified: 10-15-2015, 01:18 PM by Kronk.)
From above, the wicked shall receive their just reward
Not for the for time in his life, Kronk was playing a role he was not meant to fulfill. Life as a solider was simple. You followed orders, you watched your brother’s back, and you did what you had to do to get the job done. This visit would not be so simple. On this trip there was no enemy to fight, save for apathy. Kronk snorted to himself. They had have been attacked by the Chamber, but it was apathy that had won that fight. It was carelessness, maybe even hubris. They had assumed they were safe, and that they would always be safe.
Careless, arrogant, lazy.
There were days that ran through his head like a mantra. Kronk didn’t believe in positive thinking. He believed in positive speaking, encouraging statements to rally the men. In his head, he was his own worst drill sergeant. Carless, arrogant, lazy. It did wonders for him, it made him grit his teeth and muscle through when the going seemed impassable.
This visit was a little like that.
It was sensitive, risky, a gamble. While the Chamber held his queen, Kronk couldn’t risk declarations of war. While the Chamber remained unchecked, he couldn’t afford to stay quiet. He was walking the middle ground. He was testing the waters. With that he called for Tiberios, Shatter Me, and whoever those two may trust above all others. Kronk didn’t assume he could trust the monarchs, of course, but he had to trust someone. He had to take the risk.
He didn’t mind sticking his own neck out, but this felt a lot like sticking Fiasko’s neck out, and that left him uneasy.
Yet, it was a poor decision, on the Chamber’s part, to try and cow them with threats, or even with promises. Kronk didn’t often think on it, but deep in his belly he knew the needs of the many outweighed the needs of the few. Even when that few was a queen and princess. His gut twisted, and his own treachery tasted bitter on his tongue. The gold and white stallion squared his shoulders, set his jaw and bared through it.
The scent of the Gates is heavy enough on the breeze that Texas knows someone is coming, and he’s left his sentinel position in order to meet the newcomer as they arrive. He half expects it to be Nadyah (though the odds are she’d died on the way back to her kingdom) or someone here to inquire into the death of Nadyah that had been directly caused by their king’s new protocols. In either case it would probably be better for the king or queen to meet the arrival, and so Texas lurks behind the treeline for a good long while waiting for them to arrive.
Minutes pass, more than enough for them to have answered the call, and finally the bay stallion makes the decision to emerge from his hiding place where his presence has likely been hidden by both his stillness and a favorable wind. It’s a chestnut stallion rather than a roan mare, and Texas eyes him curiously as he makes his way forward.
He’d not exactly been named in the summons, but until the appointment of Tiberios, Texas had held the rank of advisor to the queen. That makes him trusted, doesn’t it? He’s inquisitive if not trusted at the very least, and he greets to tobiano stallion with a nod and blink-and-you’ll-miss-it smile. “What can I help you with?” He asks, as though being polite and helpful are truly his main reasons for answering the Gates’ horse’s call.
From above, the wicked shall receive their just reward
Kronk did not like being kept waiting. He didn’t feel like he had time to waste, that any of them had time to waste. The year since his home had burned had turned Kronk into someone he didn’t recognize. It had made him hard, resentful, a man with a score to settle and a thorn in his side.
The apathy. They had let themselves burn. They had sat on their ass and waited. By the look of things, the Falls was doing much of the same thing.
The orange and white stallion snorted, both contemptuously and self deprecatingly. All the better, they needed each other. When it was not the king or the queen that approached, Kronk’s mood again darkened. This was why he was not a diplomat. This was why he was a lieutenant. If he gave orders they were immediately followed. He was given orders they were immediately executed. There was none of this waiting, none of this agonizing slowness of discussion and consideration. Still, Kronk knew raging at his only attendant was not the way to start this meeting. He just needed to be patient, and gracious. The stallion ground his teeth and answered in a way he hoped didn’t show his impatience.
“I need someone who can negotiate on behalf of your kingdom, as I have been sent to on behalf of mine. My name is Kronk, I’m from the Gates.” Kronk decided that it was better not to mention that this meeting had been his idea. He decided not to mention that he was making it his business to negotiate on behalf of his kingdom because he had a score to settle, blood to spill, and was in no mood to wait. Once upon a time Kronk had been a good solider, an obedient solider. Now he was the kind who thought it was better to ask for forgiveness than permission.
Granted, he had permission to be here. He thought he had permission to make the best deal he could for his kingdom. If he didn’t, well, they would just see about that. The Gates needed allies, needed allies with spines of steel and reason to think ill of the Chamber. Kronk was hoping to rustle up some like minded individuals. He was looking for a dog fight.
If he was looking for a dog fight, he wouldn’t find it here. The Gates had only themselves to blame when it came to their destruction. As for their queen? Well, so be it. Tiberios had lost family to the Chamber too. Straia took what she wanted and unless Kronk had some sort of hidden magic, no one could stop her. What had happened to the Gates was a tragedy, that much was true, but it had been some time and from what Tiberios has heard, there’s not much being done about it.
When he comes across the pair of them - his general and the orange-ish stallion - he has half a mind to turn around and walk away. The smell of old soot and the Gates practically comes across him in waves. But Tiberios knows that no matter what he’d actually said to Texas, the old bay would do whatever he wanted in the end. King be damned, Falls be damned, allies be damned. Texas was more of a hassle than anything else, and Tiberios wonders vaguely how fun it would be to banish him. Well, he can dream at least.
“What is it that needs to be negotiated, Kronk from the Gates?” Tiberios asks, looking over the other horse with mild appreciation. He had gusto, and what looked like a short temper. No doubt a fighter at heart. That made it all the worse that he was here instead of a diplomat. (Which reminded him, had Piety actually gone to the Gates like he asked? He doubted it.) The tick of irritation begins to take root between his eyes, and the painted man can feel a headache begin to grow.
10-20-2015, 09:17 PM (This post was last modified: 10-21-2015, 01:13 PM by Kronk.)
From above, the wicked shall receive their just reward
Kronk was prepared to do some convincing. He knew what this looked like. If the positions were reversed, if a nobody from a charred and ruined kingdom had come to him asking for allies, Kronk would have probably laughed. He would have admired their pluck, but he would have laughed anyways. He hoped the Falls’ king was a good deal more open minded than Kronk had any cause to imagine.
But still, doggedly determined allies were a rare commodity. How many times had allies fallen though? How many times had allies shrugged and said it wasn’t their problem. How many times had they put the safety of their own people first? Kronk knew they had to do that, he understood why it was easier to sit back and do nothing, to not attract attention.
It was also a coward’s move.
Sure, it was also smart. But, the smart thing and the right thing were rarely one in the same. And besides, Kronk knew something of the destruction that could be done by one determined man. What was Straia but a woman? A woman with a powerful kingdom at her back, but just a woman none the less.
Even powerful women could be brought to heel. Even legends could fall.
The Chamber wasn’t invincible, they were just bold. They were just reckless. They just didn’t give a damn about who they offended. Kronk hadn’t agreed to this change of rules, but now that the rules had been broken, he wasn’t about to be the fool who sat on his hands and kept playing nice when everyone else was playing dirty.
And so, Kronk looked Tiberios in the eye and didn’t immediately assume the king would shoot him down. He assumed he was a man who wanted the same things he did. He wanted safety, he wanted prosperity, he wanted his children who grow up in an unburned home.
And if he wanted power? If it was pride, as much as his sense of honor, that did the talking? Well, Kronk could understand that too. He nodded at the king.
“An honor, Tiberios.” Kronk fell silent for a moment, and looked between the king and the general. Then he spoke to them how he would speak to his own men, how he would implore his own brothers in arms. Respect, passion, and a little bit of hope.
“Our future, I want to talk about the future of our kingdoms. You know what happened at the Gates, and you know why. Well, we’ve decided to try and do something about it. We need to make a move before it happens again, and to someone else this time.” He took a breath, and when he continued, nothing but deadpan honesty rolled off his tongue.
“The Chamber is on a power trip, they need to be put down.” How exactly that was to be accomplished was not yet determined. Kronk was open to suggestions. But, they just needed one, they needed one other kingdom to agree, in order to convince the others to as well.
Texas is not bothered that the tobiano stallion doesn’t seem pleased at his less-than-royal arrival. The only air of importance Texas has is his own inflated sense of self-worth, which he cares about far more than he does about how others might see him. He’s aware, at elast, that he is not any sort of negotiator, and he’s ready to tell Kronk this when he hears hooves coming up beside them.
He glances over to see the familiar scared figure of the King of the Falls, and while the brief nod he gives him in greeting isn’t exactly respectful, at least he’d acknowledged him at all. Tiberios would probably have just as much fun banishing Texas as Texas would have organizing a mutiny against the King. There would be brief and utter elation followed by a rather long period of “this was probably a horrible idea,” ending with a drawn out period of contemplation of all the better ways that their disagreements could have been handled. Though…Texas might have a slightly extended celebratory period since his conscience is somewhat less developed than Tiberios’.
Texas turns back to the orange and white stallion, as curious as his king about what the Falls might want. Not compensation for Nadyah’s likely death, it seems, but vengeance. Texas does know what happened at the Gates, but the reasons behind the attack weren’t ever made clear. Fun, he supposes, and boredom on the Chamber’s part.
His incentives to keep the Falls safe from what had befallen the Gates are probably different than the King’s, but they exist regardless. Texas’ plan of attack would probably be to personally assault any potential invader, but that’s only because their army is a sad force of two and they need all the reckless bravery they can get. “Do you have any reason to think they’re coming for the Falls next?” He asks mildly, glancing at Tiberios and wondering if this question will somehow be construed as insulting or idiotic. He can only hope, and hope for an entertaining reaction as well.
It probably is an insulting question – at least to the Gates. The rest of the kingdoms of Beqanna could burn at the Chamber’s whim and as long as the Falls remained safe Texas would do little more than try to find shapes in the plumes of rising smoke. At least he is predictable – he will always do what benefits him the most at any given moment. Thinking of the future is for those with too much time on their hooves.
For once, it seems like Texas and Tiberios are on the same page. The sabino takes a sideways glance at his general and notices that they share the same hesitant look. Tiberios thinks that perhaps Kronk has more promise as a diplomat than he realizes. His speech is a grand one, and in some recess of his heart the King thinks he might have once been stirred to do the ‘right’ thing. But those days have fled. If Kronk’s wish was to “put down” the Chamber (as he so eloquently put it) he’s come to the wrong place to find backup. If this idea were to pan out, and Tiberios was offer what little help he could, even giving use of his own power, there was little to no chance of success. The Dale, assuredly, might be swayed to join the fight - but Tiberios would never ask his brother-king to risk his own people for a battle that was not theirs. The Jungle was as neutral as the Falls had always been, but her numbers and her power were much greater.
He let's Texas speak, his face as stoic and undisturbed as ever. There’s a flicker of humor in his glittering eyes when the bay ends his question, because they both know that they’ve been out of the Chambers radar for some time. As sad as it may seem, the Falls isn’t worth Straia’s time or effort, and Tiberios would like to keep it that way. What Kronk is suggesting is an all out war, one that neither of their kingdoms is prepared for. “Do me a favor, Kronk.” The spotted King says, following up his generals question as quickly as he can because they’re all three aware of the answer. “Come back when you’ve got either the Deserts, Amazons, or Dale pledged to this cause and I’ll happily throw in what little support I have.”
He doesn’t laugh, because this isn’t a joke to him. It’s a serious matter, and if Kronk thinks for one second that Straia doesn’t have a curious eye out for the traveling chestnut then he’s gone mad. “Until then, all I can offer is good wishes.”
Tiberios
