"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
He is pacing the shore; his expression is still indecipherable but there is a slight sheen of sweat on his coat that he has worked up in the pacing and the true fury that boils beneath his skin. He hadn’t wanted to let Jesper out of his sight, but cooler heads had prevailed about how exhausted the young stallion had to be and so he had agreed to his grandson sleeping just out of sight beneath the shade of the trees, but close enough for Brennen to ensure that no one stumbles upon him - accidentally or on purpose.
He knows they will come, as quickly as they can after Belgaer is able to reach them, but he doesn’t know what order they will be visited or what tasks they will have to complete before leaving, so he is trying to force himself to wait patiently, which he is failing because he is not sure he has ever been this angry - and he has been angry, before; angry enough to go to true war in defense of the things he believes in. Angry enough to be willing to take a life in combat. He is, once more, that angry. But he pushes it down, chokes it down, and greets his friends and allies as they arrive. These people, he knows, will be just as angry that a Kingdom thinks it can do such things to...well, anyone. He has full faith that those he has gathered here would be just as angry if it was a near stranger, instead of Brennen’s own grandson who had been abused.
Speaking of, he looks in the direction of Jesper’s location and gives a quiet call for him as well. As he had told the boy before, he only wants him to join this conversation if he feels upto it; otherwise they will be fine without him at least for now. “Friends,” he finally is able to address them all, honey-brown eyes travelling amongst them. “I do not have good news.” his voice is deadly serious, quiet, full of an icy prickly quality that doesn’t spell good news for anyone. “A year ago, Sylva tried to steal from Ischia and failed. Since we didn’t know enough about them, I agreed to let one of the Brothers go ahead and let themselves be captured and serve a sentence there to spy if they tried again, and so thus it happened. Jesper, my grandson, lived a year amongst the Sylvans and only confirmed every worry we had. They tortured him, physically and mentally, as well as murdering Krone whom they had somehow gotten away from Tephra.”
There is no room in this scenario for him to break down, to be Brennen-the-patriarch, but perhaps those who know him best can see the turmoil in his eyes. “Two of my other daughters have also mysteriously gone missing, and I hope for the best but fear the worst.” He takes a deep breath, and continues. “I wanted to make all of you aware that Ischia, regardless of anyone’s else's decisions, will be acting against Sylva and most likely by extension their allies Loess, in return for these actions. I don’t know what price makes up for their evil deeds, so I am seeking your counsel on that as well.”
What Brennen wants is to raze the Sylvan forest to the ground and render it uninhabitable, but that’s not realistic. Oh, he could do it with his anger and the destructive power of ice, but the fae would most likely punish them all for it. More realistically, he’d like to pound their clown-nosed King into the ground and leave him with the same nightmares he has given Jesper.
@[Warrick], @[Scorch], @[Kagerus], @[Solace], @[Wishbone], @[Jesper]
Did I miss anyone? If any Brothers/others want in please message me and ask first! Probably it's ok but trying to keep it a little concise ahah ahaha
Very slowly, the ebony equine's wounds begin to heal. Pieces of his soul gradually stitch themselves back together. Jesper feels his energy and strength returning little by little, each day. The Brotherhood had come together to support him the moment his hooves returned to the shores of Ischia. Each took turns standing guard while he recuperated though, Brennen was never more than a whinny away. And, Lamb was never more than a whisper away.
That is, until the day came for the allies to discuss what had transpired over the course of those six months in Sylva. Brennen had approached Jesper about this meeting. He had invited him to share his insights if he felt up to it. Jesper knew that attending this meeting would give meaning to his sentence. Sure, it would be hard to face the questions and, the looks of pity. He knew it would be difficult to relive the torture. But, this opportunity was exactly why he volunteered as a prisoner in the first place. He knew he carried valuable information and, he refused to allow someone else to present the - his - information. And so, he told his grandsire that he would be there.
Jesper concentrated on Lamb and, the safety of living on an island, with his family, to occupy his thoughts. He had no reason to fret here and, he would need to walk into this meeting with a sound mind. There was no sense in getting all worked up, not yet. Jesper stands nearby, as requested, awaiting Brennen's summons. As his bronze-tipped lobes capture the greeting, jet black steed lifts his poll. A lump grows in his throat and, cardiac pumps harder and, faster. Jesper forces himself to swallow before he wills muscled haunches to push sturdy limbs into motion. Confident stride carries him out from the depths of the jungle's foliage and, onto the white sandy beach. Aquamarine gaze locks with the golden orbs of his grandfather before he offers a reassuring smile. He is ready.
Though some sport wings like the mahogany stallion beside him; however, he knew others would be land-bound like him. Jesper focuses upon the sand bar from the mainland as, the familiar faces of Beqanna's leaders approach. Ears remain alert atop poll and, gentle smile is offered in greeting as each draws to a halt before the Ischian pair. As Brennen's solemn voice addresses the group, Jesper stands alertly beside him. His expression remains businesslike as his grandsire details the purpose of this meeting. He does not permit his icy gaze to harden with anger or, to fall to the ground in shame. He did what he had to do for Ischia - for the good of Beqanna. He is neither ashamed nor, regretful. Right here, right now, he vows to see his selfless deed right through to the downfall of evil - right alongside these noble characters.
and in my dreams, i kissed your lips a thousand times
In the wake of Belgaer, Solace and I follow. We wait until dawn, such that I might dream myself wings during the dark hours. The less time we have to spend away from the children due to travel, the better. Svedka meets us dutifully at the mouth of our grotto, an uncharacteristically stoic expression on his face. A shiver runs down my spine as I am reminded of Warrick, of his and Solace's father; but I push the eerie feeling away.
"Thank you for doing this for us." I reach forward, planting a kiss at the smooth muscle of his shoulder. Stepping back, I allow the twins a moment to say goodbye. My ears twitch to the soft snores drifting from within our mountainside cave, smiling wanly in consideration of the other set of twins set therein. They will be safe with Svedka, even if Hyaline herself falls into some undo evil while her Queens are away. That much is certain.
I'm ready. She speaks in tones I've not often heard, but I don't let that stop me from pressing my lips warmly to her forehead. Words, however, fail me. Turning away, I gather my legs and then leap off the cliffside - unfurling my wings dramatically as I begin the treacherous fall. Call me a drama queen - I just like making Solace scream.
From there on out however, the mood sobers quite quickly. The flight from Hyaline to Ischia is short, and before long, we alight upon her sandy shores, the heat of summer far more apparent now than it ever has been in Hyaline. Glancing to Solace, I await her wings touch next to mine before continuing further into the kingdom, following the directions that Belgaer had given us.
We're the first outsiders to arrive, but we were close to begin with. In the minutes before everyone else's arrival, I carefully approach Brennen, smiling towards him despite the obvious angst he finds himself in. "Good to see you again, Brother," I offer quietly. "I am glad to see your wounds have healed." It won't lighten the mood much, but it establishes the camaraderie we share now, as Alliance finalists. If rumour is correct, him and Scorch are closer friends than he and I will ever be; but it doesn't hurt to reaffirm our bond. After some more quiet conversation, I make my way back to Solace, and settle in to listen to Brennen when he moves to speak.
And yes, what he says does boil my blood; but I choose my words carefully, knowing that I speak not just for myself but for a whole kingdom, too.
"Those fuckers will pay." Well, second times the charm. I roll my shoulders, biting my tongue. "Hyaline herself is too weak to pledge any worthy army to the Allies cause - however I will represent her myself should there ever be a call to arms. Otherwise, Hyaline will act as a sanctuary for any who seek refuge if outright war begins, with Solace or else the council there to keep the peace. We can magically fortify her, too." My eyes go to Brennen. One of us has magic now, so, that's handy. "I hope this is acceptable."
I glance to Solace, making it evident that I alone do not speak for Hyaline; her original queen will have an opinion, too.
she’s got jumper cable lips
she’s got sunset on her breath. now i inhaled just a little bit, now i’ve got no fear of death
While the humidity of summer lays thick upon Beqanna, the weight of tension seems heavy enough to fill her lungs before oxygen can reach them. Each inhale brings its own air clinging with concern and fever and apprehension. Belgaer’s appearance on Nerine’s border and the announcement he brings with him only further materializes the thunderclouds in the very near distance. They are dark and full of potential downpour, threatening to break above the heads of each head within Beqanna.
There’s an urgency in Wishbone’s step as she travels with Scorch to Ischia. She stays mostly quiet as they move along the shore, following the quickest path to Ischia. The hush of the summertime waves is gentler than the roar of Nerine’s waves against the granite cliffs, but the Khaleesi finds that she is caught in a swirl of thoughts and emotions to offer much conversation to her Dosh.
They are not the first to arrive on Ischia’s shores, nor will they be the last. Wishbone dives quickly into the seawater, hooves shifting into the mainland’s sand before pushing off into the deeper water. The ocean doesn’t terrify her (not like it will now terrify her mother, who might be being dragged through coral reefs and along sharp rocks this very moment), having spent her entire life in it, and she reaches Ischia’s side of the canal easily.
Wishbone casts an amber-hued gaze to Scorch, certain her Dosh has found some way to cross the water, before turning toward the gathering. There’s an undercurrent of reckless excitement that thrums beneath her skin like an electric current; while the anger of Brennen is heavy in the atmosphere, this is a summit of the Allies and her father and sister will both be here. In fact, Solace has already arrived. Wishbone moves to greet her sister for a brief moment, gaze heavy with understanding of the severity of their meeting. She touches her sable nose to Solace’s shoulder before offering a dip of her head toward Kagerus.
The Khaleesi has never met Brennen before, despite the connection of their kingdoms, and Wishbone hopes they will enjoy each other’s company. The lithe mahogany mare steps forward, in the moments before the meeting begins, and dips her head toward Brennen. It’s not a deep bow, but one shared between equal authorities. Her dark, tangled forelock shifts against her forehead as she does so, auburn highlights warmed by the sun’s rays above. “It’s an honor to finally meet you, King Brennen.” Wishbone pauses for a moment, amber eyes glancing over the Kraken King’s face to calculate his reaction. “If you don’t know me, I’m Wishbone. The Leviathans new Khaleesi.” The name of her title should sound familiar to his ears — it is the title of the Queens of the Old, another piece of the Amazons resurrected.
She steps back then, moving alongside Scorch to settle until the meeting begins. Her father’s arrival brings a warm smile to Wishbone’s face, though she doesn’t move to greet him just yet. This isn’t a family reunion, but a gathering taking place in a dire, unnecessary situation. Her speculations are even further brought alive by Brennen’s voice, speaking of events taking place that cause Wishbone’s body to feel warm and cold all at the same time. A fever of dread and anger, perhaps. When Jesper’s name is mentioned, the mahogany turns her sunset gaze toward the dark stallion with a curious yet impressed expression.
Yet Kagerus steps in first with her brazen tongue. The Khaleesi barely smiles, despite the situation — her own tongue might surely find similar language upon it. A thought rises to Wishbone’s mind at her sister-in-law’s words. “Perhaps Hyaline could shelter the young or elderly of the rest of the Allies.” The mountains seem strong enough to protect the young, alongside what members Hyaline might have now. It would be risky, putting all of the incapable in one location, but it also had the potential to save lives. Wishbone’s gaze now turns to Brennen’s again. “Nerine will stand by Ischia’s side through anything.” Despite the tension that winds among them like a snarling cougar, there is peace within Wishbone.
She realizes, in that secretive moment between just her heart and her mind, that this is what she was born to do.
“The insane will always need a hole to crawl back into.” She’s heard stories from her mother’s time spent in Beqanna’s forests (of maniacal laughter and shadow-dwellers and bloodied smiles) and Wishbone knows there are too many filling the darkness and they must now bleed into a kingdom. “We should attack, but allow them their hole.”
Wound does not accompany him today. Both himself and Amorette are shaken by her absence, and though neither have said it out loud, he cannot help but think the worst. Warrick is uncertain, however, if it is Sylva he must throw his anger towards, or if it is the own stallion that resides in his kingdom. Striking so close to Warrick’s heart could easily have been done by either culprit, and without knowing the true mastermind behind her disappearance, he is unable to move forward. Wound’s disappearance would easily weaken not only himself but Tephra, and Warrick could see motives for both Klaudius and the clown-King.
But perhaps unable to find her means nothing; Tephra is large, and perhaps she is out recruiting like she tends to do.
When they arrive to Ischia, they are more shaken than they had been upon their initial leave from Tephra.
The Overseer quickly allowed their walk (Amorette could not take to the skies, so Warrick did not mind walking beside her) to catch his Right Hand up to speed. The smell of blood staining the only land-marked border, Klaudius’ attempt to be given Tephra’s throne...all of this is quickly settled on both of their backs, and though with Amorette’s steadfast guidance and company, Warrick still feels the bitter taste of war in his mouth. There is no way it will come to anything else.
When the sight of a mangled, unrecognizable corpse and dismembered body parts crudely hidden by damp earth, rotted and bloated with maggots, were found by the two Tephrans, Warrick is sure that war is the only option.
He steered Amorette away from the scene quickly, but the vile smell of curdled flesh and the sight of strewn limbs are still fresh in their minds when they halt next to the others, faces expressionless and solemn. There are familiar friends that have arrived (Kagerus, Solace, Wishbone...all family), but he cannot turn to face them. Not with the terrible news he must share with them.
Friends, I do not have good news.
Warrick’s stomach churns bitterly, his chest tightening with the impending news.
There is a look of surprise as the Overseer learns the whereabouts of Krone, as well as one of the brotherhood’s own. He assumes that the darker male beside Brennen is Jesper - the one who infiltrated Sylva, subjecting himself to torture and emotional ridicule, and Warrick immediately respects the stallion. His jaw clenches, the muscle in his cheek jumping as his teeth grind forcefully. He would not allow another to fall to the same fate. There is anger that burns in his muscles, but is restrained by the forceful way he refuses to shift his gaze, his lips pressing together in a thin line. Though his ears flick backwards at Brennen’s information, he remains silent and steadfast, hoping that there is nothing else to add to such a terrible event.
Kagerus’ familiar voice allows his gaze to turn from Brennen to her. She is bold and not without reason; the words she speaks have already echoed in Warrick’s mind. His cerulean gaze lingers evidently on Solace (sorrowful, gentle, glad that she is safe in Hyaline and with Kagerus). Both her and Solace offer Hyaline as refuge, and for a moment his breath catches in his throat. Wishbone, though young in her ascension, quickly assures Brennen that Nerine will not stand for the darkness that has become rampant.
“Tephra will rise to Ischia’s aide without hesitation, for no one is safe from Sylva’s chaos. If it is war they crave, we should be swift to give them their wishes.”
Warrick has turned his attention back to Brennen, a solemn nod given to the winged-King
“Brennen,” Warrick’s voice is unwavering, yet there is no boiling over of anger to be seen. The news he has is heavily-laced, and though he hopes it not to be the daughters of Brennen that he and Amorette had stumbled upon, he knows the sight of mutilated corpses cannot go without the Allies knowing. “There are two corpses in the forest; unidentifiable.” He pauses, swallowing hard. He does not have to say what the bodies might represent, and gives a wide berth for thought in respectfulness. “I cannot stay long. Not only does Sylva beg for unrest. Klaudius wishes to ascend into Tephra’s throne and I must prepare for what I believe will only be solved on the battlefield. The timing is dastardly; perhaps it is more than coincidence.” He champs uneasily, his wings fluttering at his sides. Warrick’s gaze flickers to his daughters and to the others joined in the meeting, inhaling deeply.
A challenge for Tephra has come at the most inopportune time, and by one that has already made it clear of how he felt towards Ischia and now towards Warrick himself. It adds to the chaos.
Perhaps that is all part of Sylva’s plan.
warrick
credit to vel of adoxography.
@[Amorette] Tagging Amore cause she came with Warrick
The news had hit Solace hard; It had unnerved her, forced her to question their quiet, sheltered lifestyle. There had been guilt too. As the closest of the allies to these dark kingdoms, she felt she should have known more. She should have pushed Arthas further for information or traveled there herself if he refused to speak - but she had been content to settle for a comfortable 'you don't bother us, we won't bother you' sort of policy. It sicked her to think of what Jesper had endured, and it was uncanny to think it had happened so soon after they had parted ways.
Kagerus was the only one who she had shared these feelings with, unwilling to accidentally place guilt on her other councilmembers. But her co-ruler had understood and they had agreed - these fuckers must pay.
The sight of the ancient, bay warrior doesn't help her mood. She had come to watch the final battle between the ice-king and her mate, and even though she knew that it was all in good sport, the day had left a bad taste in her mouth. With this memory of Kaguerus' fresh-spilled blood still new and raw in her mind, her pale lips form a thin, hard line as Kag volunteers her body and powers in the name of Hyaline. Of course, it was what had to be done, but that didn't mean she had to be happy about it.
Wishbone strengthens the point that Kagerus has made, and Solace nods in agreement as her sister speaks. "Hyaline, of course, remains open to all." Her voice is steady, as she reaffirms her kingdoms position publicly.
"Have any diplomats met with the leadership of Sylva? Do they make demands or is all of this chaos just for their amusement?" Unsure of if she should look to Jesper, Solace holds Brennen's gaze. As she asks the question, she does not expect the tortured stallion to step forward, assuming that his king will speak for him if the situation is too uncomfortable.
Then Solace's crystalline gaze is drawn to Warrick and Amorette as her father moves to speak, and the look on his face causes her jaw to clinch a little tighter. With a short snort, she tosses her head in disbelief and annoyance as he mentions a usurper. Her heated gaze flashes to Wishbone for a brief moment to gauge her reaction before returning to her father.
"Then let us decide quickly what should be done, and we will act as a united front before any more of our own are lost."
It is an impossible task to get the horrifying sight out of her head. No matter where her gaze lands, she sees their mangled, bloated faces and torn off limbs. The smell, too, haunts her, as if the sight enough wouldn’t make her feel sick in the stomach. Amore is nauseous, and unsteady on her legs, slowing Warrick even more down than simply binding him to the ground. But not a part of the ebony woman would tell him to continue without her, as he is the only thing that keeps her moving forward and prevents her from falling apart right at the spot.
Tears are shimmering in her eyes, and her body trembles as she stands at Warrick’s side. She leans heavy on his shoulder, unable to shake off how much the sight of the girls affects her. Who would do such a horrible thing? Amorette cannot wrap her mind around it, wondering what they must’ve done wrong for the fairies to allow such evil into their world.
No, not the fairies. They, themselves, had allowed this kind of evil to settle. And thus it is their task to deal with it.
Amorette silently listens to first Brennen speak, then followed by quite a few different rules that she does not know. If the setting had been any different, the ebony woman would’ve happily got herself acquainted, but there is no room in her mind for anything petty. Eventually Warrick speaks, her dark muzzle landing on his neck as to wordlessly support him. Right now, it is all she can offer him, as she is still very much on the edge of breaking down.
History repeated itself. From lulls to peace to wars. She couldn't say it wasn't exciting, because it was; but she felt bored. Senile perhaps, in her old age - she felt more concerned with why she and Toni couldn't seem to get pregnant than she felt worried about the well being of Beqanna. It scared her, when she really thought about it, but what was she to do? Her mind wandered, and more often than not someone else had to find the means to bring it back.
Today, the caller was Belgaer. The mare put on her diplomatic face to greet the stallion, remaining mostly silent as Wishbone greeted him and listened to all that was shared. The tyrannical evil spreading across the west had finally come to a head, spitting on the toes of the Allies as if they weren't easily squashed with a single footstep.
Slowly, Scorch came out of her reverie. Forced to think on the politics of the land, she found herself irrevocably riled up and angry; if there was one thing that would always matter to her, it was family. And Brennen - he was family. Lost in thought, she met with the new Khaleesi at the southern border, silently beginning the trek with naught but a nod hello. But there was a reason she'd chosen Wishbone as heir - and this, her composure, was it.
At the channel that most would swim through or fly over, Scorch extended a tangible twilight path, walking across it without hesitating. She'd entered this way before and had found it to be her preferred entrance; her mutilated skin simply could not handle being submerged in the dehydrating salt water. Glancing over her shoulder at Wishbone, she smiled to see the Khaleesi swimming - but just as she herself hadn't hesitated, nor had Wish.
They were kindred spirits, in their own way.
Upon entering the meeting ground, Scorch stood back. She and Brennen were no strangers and thus she felt obliged to allow others to approach him before herself. At the last, the twice-Queen stepped forward, forcefully pressing her nose into the base of his neck. "Brother," she murmured. The rest she said with her eyes, their gazes locked for a fraction of an eternity before she pulled herself back into the crowd, of lesser importance than she had ever been before.
They all said their pieces. Kagerus, Wishbone, Warrick, Solace. She knew each of them, by name if not by face. At the last, she stepped slightly forward, again meeting the gaze of the Ischian king.
"I am with our allies; we must attack, or else be ridiculed." Her eyes scanned the crowd briefly, considering them with an ancient, well-groomed sobriety. "We have built ties stronger than I've seen since the Blood Alliance, forty years ago. I will not see the strength of our unity squandered." Her lips turned down, ears pressing back. "I will see us go to war."
Scorch
Once Khaleesi of the Amazon Jungle
Tell me why Kag, the eloquent dream queen, ran her mouth, but the hellbent devil-rat spoke with the grace of a thousand dancers. My characters make no sense.
Jesper is the first to come, standing beside Brennen with a smile. The bay pegasus turns a warm look to his grandson, his support unmistakable, but his eyes are searching; he doesn’t want to push Jesper too hard. The boy seems ready, is probably ready, and Brennen relaxes just a hair on that front; he trusts his allies and friends not to push too hard anyway, so Jesper won’t be required to speak of anything he isn’t willing to speak of. Nobody in their right mind would push Brennen on something regarding his family right this minute - so Jesper is probably in pretty safe company.
Solace and Kagerus are the first to arrive - benefitting, conveniently, from wings. Kag approaches Brennen and despite his agitation a smile flickers at the corner of his face, his eyes laughing as he nods. “It is good to see you here, rather than on the Plains,” he agrees, and he can’t help but glance over her where there had been injuries, as if to double-check that they have indeed healed. As he lifts his gaze from that task, his eyes meet Solaces’ and he doesn’t blame her for the slight reticence he can see there: it can’t have been easy to watch someone go full-out at her mate, but he hopes with time and distance she can see instead how impressive it was that Kagerus was strong enough to force Brennen into all-out combat.
The young girl is next and he does not know her face, but when she introduces herself he knows her name. There’s a flicker of surprise that Scorch has already passed the torch, but he knew it was coming and if his old friend thought the younger mare ready, Brennen will stand by the new Khaleesi just as he would have Scorch or her predecessor. “I wish we were meeting under different circumstances,” he tells Wishbone solemnly, and makes a note to get to know her better later. She steps away and the Ischian King turns to greet Warrick and the mare at his side with a nod, and that leaves Scorch. She greets him with the familial title of ‘Brother’, and they take a moment. No one will begrudge them this; though the group as a whole is cohesive, there are stronger ties that hold individuals together within the group, and there is peace in that.
Having them speak almost unanimously in support of Ischia, and in way of Tephra for Krone, soothes another bit of his whirling fury. None of those gathered will stand alone - not Ischia against Sylva, and not Warrick against Klaudius. That matter does not soothe Brennen, but makes him angrier. He is the oldest amongst them and the one who called them together - he takes a moment to sort out the information provided and prioritize them in his head. First, there is Sylva. “They have made no demands nor explanations for their actions, and our diplomats were sent away without any information. I think we can only assume they wish chaos and bloodshed. To my knowledge, they are still allied with Loess as well, though Loess offered no violence or mistreatment to our Leilan when he was amongst them.” he answers Solace first, because this is important. “Jesper may have some information for us, which I am sure he will share with us before we finalize any plans.”
Like the last time Brennen went to war, there is a ready and obvious choice to shelter refugees and the helpless. “I agree that Hyaline would make an ideal place to keep those who cannot or will not fight. As a result of my success in the Alliance, Ischia and its inhabitants are safe from any direct retaliation for a year as well, but those who cannot defend themselves from Nerine and Tephra might want to congregate in Hyaline together to make them easier to protect. I am not in full control of my new magics, but we should have more to our credit than Sylva.” He can feel the magic in his blood, where there used to be bone and ice, but he hasn’t had much of a chance to practice. “I agree that we should retaliate, but I don’t want to try and take Sylva. I don’t think any of us want it, and I don’t want the fae to get involved as they have in the past. Perhaps, as Wishbone has suggested, we attack and take something but leave them their hole. I personally think in addition to reclaiming and captives, we should take any children in their care. No child should be raised in such an environment.”
After any discussion he turns to Warrick, and hears his words - and this is enough to make him reach for the new magic and confirm the loss of his daughters. It is almost enough to push him over the edge he has never crossed - that dark bridge to warrior-frenzy and blood fury - but he pulls himself back with other things. His love for his other children, his loyalty to his fledging Brotherhood, the vague knowledge that the power he has now is entirely too destructive to be wielded by anyone without a mostly clear head. “It…” he cannot speak at first, swallowing the grief and the despair, “It is them,” it’s a whisper, quieter even than his norm, and he can’t linger on it. He must force the calm ice back over his being. “Ischia will stand behind Tephra in this as well. Klaudius is a wildcard, not to be trusted with a Kingdom - if he succeeds, he will not be allowed to keep his prize.”
Brennen had seen Warrick in action too - he thinks Warrick with persevere against the purple idiot, but everyone can fall. He is pissed enough at Klaudius to take him on after, if Warrick were to fall. He turns now to Jesper, to see if his grandson has anything to add if he hasn’t already interjected it into the conversation as it goes along.
Aquamarine gaze respectfully meets each pair of glossy orbs as Beqanna's leaders congregate before them. The ebony equine notes the concern, mixed with anger, etched in their eyes. He sighs with relief as Kagerus, Wishbone, Warrick, Solace, and Scorch offer their support. If anyone had doubts regarding the strength of the alliances between the lands represented here today, they were fools. Jesper could not help but feel the last of his burden lift as his confidence in the Brotherhood's resources grew. We are not alone in this campaign. We are strong.
The stallion shifts his weight idly as the conversation transitions back to the winged, mahogany steed beside him. Jesper listens, carefully, hanging on each phrase. He nods in agreement as Brennen recalls the diplomatic attempt he made with Mosrael and, how they were disrespected and disregarded. His grandsire's next words - chaos and bloodshed - accurately describe Sylva's ideology and, Jesper finds himself nodding in earnest. Bronze-tipped lobes catch Brennen's prompt to speak; however, he permits his King to continue addressing the crowd. Having visited the mountainous kingdom, Jesper could agree that Hyaline would be the ideal refuge for those in need.
The suggestion to rescue any children sends the jet black steed diving into his recollections. He quickly returns his attention to the present as he senses the tension between the Tephran King and, his own. Jesper waits as Brennen grows quiet and, swears he can feel the strength of his grandsire's sorrow as he addresses Warrick. He watches as Brennen stutters at first, choking back his words. Jesper cannot recall ever seeing him like this. Then, again, as the ebony stallion makes the connection between the two bays' exchange, he, too, feels the despair. His neck stretches out and down while his lobes fall to half-mast. He sighs, once more, though, this time out of grief.
A derisive snort follows before Jesper straightens himself. Poll lifts after having drooped and, ears return to their alert post. He becomes aware that the conversation has once again shifted to him and, after swallowing, Jesper collects his thoughts. He finds his most sincere voice and, begins. "First, I would like to thank each of you for your support. Your support gives meaning to my time in Sylva." He pauses here to allow the depths of his gratitude sink in. He offers a small smile before proceeding. "I observed an insatiable appetite for blood and, chaos during those six months. Between my first day and, my last, Sylva's numbers more than doubled. It seems that Sylva does not actively recruit but, rather, evil seems to attract evil.
Sadly, I did not see Krone after day one but, I could see she was expecting. I am unsure what has become of the child. I met several of Modicum Mortem's servants, including: Jackel, an interesting mare, whose heart literally belongs to Morty. I played victim to her mind games. Sabra's son, Kwartz, was willingly serving the clown's wishes though, I am certain his young mind has been corrupted with anger and power. Lepis, the former Queen of Loess, was serving as a peace offering between the allied kingdoms. I offered to help but, she did not seem interested. Drax, a fire-breathing colt, is eager to please the clown. At one point, the clown gave me an ultimatum: either serve him and Sylva or, be burned. I refused his offer and so, I was punished." Voice trails off as whiskered muzzle swings around to left hip, pointing to the patch of singed fur.
After a few deep breaths, Jesper brings his attention back to those waiting for him to continue. "I encountered Dynast, mother of my half-sister, Deiti. She possesses the ability to shift into a water creature with tentacles that sting. I also encountered another water beast though, I am certain its original form is equine. This beast did not give me a name; however, it could manipulate, embrace, and control water. It nearly drowned me. The clown himself, did not lay a single hoof on me. Having said that, he is a malicious mastermind, who finds joy in watching the world tear itself apart. He recently named Astarael, a former sister, as his Queen. She sports a pair of wings, which should be mature enough to carry her weight soon, a crown of horns and, an aura of fear that attempts to choke you in its grasp. I did not have the opportunity to meet all of Morty's minions; however, I have additional names from the last kingdom meeting: Maugrim, Lillith Elvira, Tymber, Lokii, Nexu, Rajanish, and Sibella. I would like to believe that this information will serve us well. If you have any additional questions, do not hesitate to ask me."
Jesper falls silent and, takes a half step backwards. He offers a soft smile to his grandsire. He stands now, grateful for the opportunity to alleviate this burden from his shoulders and, truly feel as though, he had something to offer; as though, he could help.
Jesper
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