Call to Arms || Warrick/Amorette

[Belgaer]

Belgaer

He loved to fly. Of all the gifts he’d been giving, his wings were, by far, his favorite. On any other occasion he would have taken his time, reveled in the way the wind brushed through his feathers. Time, however, was not his ally. He had been sent on a mission by his father, to call upon Ischia’s allies for an emergency meeting in regard to Sylva. The mission weighed heavy upon his shoulders. 
 
Flying above the ashy terrain of Tephra, Belgaer braced himself against the heat of the wind as it pulled at him. He'd only recently visited the volcanic land for the first time and his respect for it's people coursed through him. The kingdom was an unforgiving one, with very little able to survive within the shadow of it's guardian mountain. Ominously ahead of him, it was hard to ignore the influence of it's magma. 
 
Twisting himself ever so slightly he allowed the underside of his wings to catch the wind and blow him gently off to the left. Feeling the effects of gravity, he drifted down towards the ground. Deftly he landed, his wings buffering the force of his fall. Glancing around him, he tucked his wings against his side, his sides heaving as a result of his unusually quickened pace. There had been no time to waste, there was something dark stirring in the heart of Beqanna and Jesper’s long awaited return did not bode well with the Ischians. The stallion had endured much during his time as their prisoner and, as a result, he knew all too well the strength they harbored within the yellowed leaves of Sylva. 
 
Brennen had sent Belgaer, almost instantly after they’d stumbled upon the battered and bruised stallion, ahead in hopes of alerting their allies and calling them to an informational meeting. Although ill-advised, Jesper’s sacrifice allotted them a rare opportunity to learn more about the dark forces that threatened to move against them. Perhaps, the most disturbing news his nephew had divulged, had been that Belgaer’s own half sister now ruled beside the clown king. If the rumors could be believed, she no longer resembled the Ischian she had once been. His stomach twisted whenever he thought upon the changes Jesper had described. 
 
Determined, he forced himself to remain focused upon the task at hand. There was time later to worry about the fate of his sister. Confidently he strode forward into a clearing, his red coat standing out against the neutrality of the landscape. 
 
“Amorette,” he called out. “Warrick?”

The Prodigal Son

@[Amorette] / @[Warrick] Basically, Brennen sent Belgaer to call an emergency meeting in the thread where they discovered Jesper (the river I think). This thread is just to help tell the story IC. 

[Warrick]

we are crooked souls trying to stay up straight A voice on the heavy summer air calls to him, his name distinctly heard above the soft rustle of palm trees swaying together, clustered with brilliant plumeria and hibiscus that have blossomed wonderfully beneath the sultry heat of Tephra. The Overseer moves from beneath the shade of the tropical plants, the burning sun vivid against the auburn of his coat, taking to the skies with a stretch of navy wings. It is not long before he identifies a familiar form on the ground, a chestnut pegasus who just landed in the inland plains, where low tide has left mud and damp earth beneath the swaying of golden grasses. Warrick’s dives towards him, the strong beats of his wings echoing on the wind. He lands solidly before him, navy legs carrying him at a lope towards the one he recognized as Belgaer. Warrick’s wings fold into his sides, slowing himself into a trot and then to a walk, before halting with a toss of his head. Trouble brews in the stallion’s eyes, and Warrick cannot help but press his lips together in a thin line at the realization. Cobalt wings flutter gently at his sides, striving to set the feathers in place from his flight, all the while the cool ocean blue of his gaze remains steadily on the Ischian man. “Belgaer,” the Overseer begins, his deep baritone even and unwavering. The winged stallion had also called for Amorette, and a single blue-tipped ear remains backwards, listening for the soon-approach of the obsidian mare. He has no doubt she would be along shortly. “It is good to see you again, my friend.” Warrick pauses, his head tilting slightly. “Even if I feel as though our meeting may not be one of good news.” warrick

credit to vel of adoxography.

[Amorette]

“Amorette,” followed by an equally as questioning “Warrick?” is enough to make her leave one of the volcano’s many caves. She had been hiding from the sun, which burns mercilessly during summer. Around noon it is not the time to be busy when you live in Tephra. But no matter what she would be doing, and when, Amorette would never ignore a call. Especially not one sounding as alarming as Belgaer’s.

She can see his winged red silhouette from afar. Her pace is hurried, but not more than a quick trot. Warrick beats her to it. His wings carry him through the air, his travel much more fluent than hers. It does not trouble Amore, but what does trouble her, is the almost morbid look of Belgaer’s eyes.

“Belgaer?” she asks softly, like Warrick greeting the chestnut appaloosa by name, before she has even come to a halt. She offers him a small smile and a drop of her head before reaching out to press her muzzle against Warrick’s shoulder as she passes him. Amorette takes her place beside her king and friend, though her dark eyes soon find Belgaer again. “What brought you to Tephra today?”

Warrick’s words had been spoken before her arrival, and she does not doubt that he navy male had asked Belgaer something similar, but she cannot not ask. Clearly there is something wrong. From the expression on his face – stern and hard like he’s been plagued by a pained memory – to the almost tense way he carries his body. “Can we offer any help?”


@[Belgaer]
@[Warrick]

[Belgaer]

Belgaer

Belgaer does not have to wait long before his eyes spy the familiar shape of Warrick in the distance. The navy framed stallion wasted no time in answering Belgaer’s call, his pace even and purposeful as he drew nearer. As he drew nearer the foreboding expression is clear upon the seasoned stallion’s face. Words were not necessary for him to know that Belgaer’s intentions were not leisurely. He was alone, however, and disappointment slowly painted itself upon the younger one’s face. He forced himself to focus on Warrick’s greeting.
 
“I’m afraid I do not come bearing good news,” it is painfully easy to confirm Warrick’s suspicions. Just as he is preparing to go into further detail he is saved by the sound of another voice approaching them.
 
A short distance away, moving at steady pace, Amorette is nearly upon them. The sound of his name upon her lips causes his heart to jump and his expression instantly softens at the sight of her. The memories of their first meeting are still fresh in his mind and he is almost ashamed at how often he thought back to that day. His relief at finding her there safe was palpable. There were too many who weren’t quite as fortunate.
 
He clears his throat, surprised by the unexpected feelings that stirred inside of him at the sight of her. There would be time later for him to analyze his body’s reaction to being near her once more.
 
“In face, there is,” he agreed meeting each of their gazes in turn, lingering perhaps a moment too long upon hers. “My father has asked me to come here and request that you meet him on Ischia. We have had one of our spies return from behind Sylvan borders.”
 
Belgaer hoped that his brief mention of Jesper would be enough to convince them of his urgency. There was much left unsaid, however, as he though it wise to leave the more complicated matters for Brennen to explain. Astarael being the biggest problem. Undoubtedly having a daughter did not sit well with Brennen. Belgaer felt the weight of his father’s grief over her betrayal of the values their father had fought to instill into them. His eyes shifted to Amorette and he found himself wondering if she would think any less of him when she found out…

The Prodigal Son

@[Warrick] @[Amorette] 

I meant to add that this is just to help propel the narrative IC. Wait for Dev to post the thread in Ischia.