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  • Beqanna

    version 22: awakening

    COTY

    GHAUL -- Year 209

    QOTY

    "(souls are not meant to live more than once — death was not meant to be temporary, and she is so sure that every time her heart starts to beat again that irreversible damage is further inflicted)" -- Anonya, written by Colby


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    [open]  kill the headlights, put it neutral
    #1

    Traveling to the northern most tip of Beqanna is no easy feat. The land itself is such an evolving, ever moving and changing beat in and of itself, not to mention the obstacles between the River and Icicle Isle. He had gotten word that there was a society cooking up under new authority there, such a barren place, no one would ever think it a fruitful place to live. It has to be something mightily interesting, surely, to have any life as gossip. It’s worthy of investigation, he declares, and with that he set out to find the Isle he’s only seen a few times in his twenty something years. 

    As winter recedes from most of Beqanna, the north has yet to see its snows truly melt away. The air is colder, wafting from the snow banks and ice chunks along the thick and well-trodden road. Days of straight travel and little sleep bring him to the doorstep of the Isle. There are various ways to get to it; he goes with a sturdy ice bridge this time around.

    Snow falls sparsely from the fluffed gray clouds drifting quickly overhead, not here to stay. It’s a reminder that this is a different world, coming out of winter at her own pace, if ever. It is not bitter cold like a mid-winter clench, but the winds that roll off the northern tip of the Isle hint that there is frigidness still here on the half-arctic island. 

    His arrival is quiet, but not sneaky. He is large and dark, standing out among all the snow dusted shrubs and rocks. He keeps in the open, looking around for the frost dragon stallion that’s rumored to be ruling here now, and assembling citizens. His ears swivel and his eyes keep to the horizons, every which way, waiting for someone to approach.



    CHEMDOG
    to the window, to the wall



    Leilan but also anyone at all <3
    he intends to join in the viking fun
    Reply
    #2
    You’re uncontrollable
    and we are unlovable
    Rumour has it, something is starting anew on the Isle. Rumour has it that a new dragon rules it, though this one spits hellish ice instead of hellfire; befitting the colder climate perhaps. Rumour has it he can use a few strong, daring individuals to rebuild.

    It must have started when he had talked to Kamali in the Field - there were always ears there. He doesn’t think the Forest had held any listeners when he talked to Ivo, though one could never be sure. It doesn’t matter - in fact it is only helpful that the rumour mill brings him a visitor who is actually interested in joining.

    They can’t take too long to act though, he thinks. If the rumour mill brings individuals to the Isle, then Beqanna’s spies and diplomats will pick up on it as well. They’ll be moving soon - but not before welcoming their new friend.

    His wings carry him through the dirty and cold air - a strange combination, he misses the crispness of ice and snow; now it is mingled with ashes and steam and dust. The male retracts the scaled and leathery silver wings upon landing, trotting forward to greet the visitor. Leilan’s shape is large, clearly of mixed draft and baroque origins, similar to the newcomer - in fact they might be of similar lines, perhaps. While the ice-scaled roan carries more feathering, the spotted stallion has been granted the longer, almost curly mane, and a tiny height advantage (courtesy to Scorch being a bit smaller, he thinks to himself), but otherwise their body types seem largely similar.

    A soft nicker announces his presence, and then the multicoloured male stands before the newly arrived stud. ”Welcome to… Recently Unicicled Isle.” he grins a little, tilting his head. ”Not many find it a place worth travelling to, these days - unless they have business here - so I figured I might investigate myself,” he tells the male this in good faith, though it doesn’t reveal much other than that he is indeed the Isle’s keeper. ”I’m Leilan. As far as the Isle goes, what you see is what you get.” he introduces himself and the burned northern island, figuring there isn’t much else that needs to be said about it. It’s burned, after all - not many plants still stand, and if they do, they’re the sturdy kind that need more energy digesting than that they satiate, at this point - that and it tastes like ash. The temperature differences have caused large cracks in the granite flooring as well, steam and the occasional burst of hot water still rising from them. There is, of course, the heart-shaped lake and the blue-flaming tree up north, and the northern lights at night - but they can’t be seen from where they stand right now.

    ”I hope you like it. If you want a tour, we can walk.” he adds as almost an afterthought, flashing a playful grin at the male. ”So, tell me what brings you here?”

    and I don’t want you to think that I care
    I never would, I never
    could again
    Leilan
    no. 7 | ice forged in fire


    Chemdog
    Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
    |
    Reply
    #3

    When the icy stallion touched down Chem could immediately tell he is the keeper of the scorched snowlands. A half grin twisted and slant across his dark lips. He nods to him as he comes forward, introducing the Isle and himself. “Chemdog.” he replies with simplicity, his baritone voice easing like cold oil into the frigid breeze. The smells stirred by the gentle winds were a mix of soil, ash, coal, death – and in it, swirled in its middle, is the smell of freshly forming life.

    The pair of men stand at almost the same height, their builds thick, sturdy and their posture certainly foreboding to any beta who may approach. There is always something naturally attractive about well-matched warriors standing together, and even more alluring is when they become a team.

    I’d love a tour – and to know the plan for this lot…” he chuckles, gesturing his nose to the scattered populace, though small, it could still be effective, certainly. He’s heard some of what Leilan’s plans may be, but he’s sure most of it is fiction, or embellished, so he waits to hear it straight from the source.



    CHEMDOG
    to the window, to the wall


    Leilan <3
    Reply
    #4
    You’re uncontrollable
    and we are unlovable
    He can't help but appreciate the other male, like one might appreciate a possible new friend, or perhaps a rival - he doesn't know yet which category to put the splotched male into. At the mentioning of names, - Chemdog - he finds it somehow suiting and nods his head in acceptance. Perhaps one day he'll make fun of the old dog's name, if they get close enough - for now he feels oddly familiar with the new guy, and doesn't think he would appreciate it straight away.

    In a way, he is reminded of Arquus - a similar meeting like this, though in the Field. He'd been looking for a new opportunity and decided that he'd rather go back home, back to the past - to make changes the future had not yet seen before.

    About the Isle, and Leilan's plans for it's population, he smirks a little, and invites the other male with a tug of his head. "That there, is the rock that pretty much marks the easiest swimming route towards Taiga. To the west, Barren Wasteland One, and further more towards the Forest of Burned Sticks. As we go further north, you'll find Neverwhere's Scowl - that crack there," small nod towards a down-sloped line, steam rising from one end for good measure, "It's remarkable how it resembles her everyday face, just wait till you meet her - and here we arrive at Barren Wasteland Two, which has the outlook to Nerine in the east." Here, he stops his ridiculous tour, shrugs, and a green-eyed brown face cracks a grin at Chemdog. "Further north there's some snow, sometimes. Once it was always covered in the flaky cold stuff, so perhaps there's a chance that some of it will return over time. But as you see, our main problem is a lack of food - and not only for horses." Every living thing that wasn't underground at the time, had died - and the lemmings and hares who had survives in their burrows, were growing bonier each day.

    "I know who did this, and I know nobody stopped him. So it's my idea that we can take some of what is his, to replenish. Everyone who sat back and did nothing - the least they can do is offer up some of theirs, you know what I'm saying?" Even without magic, this land might never sustain a lot of people - he can only build a society, currently, of people who are willing to take when the situation calls for it. Those willing to actually fight for what they need. The strongest will not only survive in the north, like they'd done for years, no, a decade - they will flourish.

    But it all comes down to calling everyone together. Thankfully, in this time of need, people are willing to bond against a common enemy.

    and I don’t want you to think that I care
    I never would, I never
    could again
    Leilan
    no. 7 | ice forged in fire


    Chemdog Sorry it took so long! We can keep this short if I'm messing with your timelines.
    Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
    |
    Reply
    #5

    Chem’s delighted to see the tug of Leilan’s head and the slight smirk. He diligently falls in tow behind, flipping both of his pale ears upright to listen, coming up beside the other draft’s shoulder. He chuckles when he starts to describe Neverwhere as they gaze upon a jagged gape in the earth, hissing steam like an irritated bull. He made a mental note for later; Neverwhere.

    As Leilan continues, Chem casts a blank stare toward a few scattered bodies. A few horses here and there, caribou, a bear. It was desolate for certain. A canvas, though, something to be created. Chemdog liked the roan leader, his grit, it was something he felt he doesn’t see very often. This mission was now on the shoulders of the few Leilan had gathered to follow him, may they not fail.

    Who, then? Who would do this?” he thinks aloud, curling his lip as he looks around at the charred remains of the Isle. He listens to him finish the last bit of his sentence and the last question sinks in. “Yes,” suddenly his teal eyes level with Leilan’s, “I know exactly what you mean.” he snorts, adjusting his stance, “We must raid.


    chemdog
    astra inclinant, sed non obligant.





    oh its fine! i am used to wonky timelines.
    maybe we do wrap this one up though, and have a new one after their little food plunder in pampas is over?
    this seems good for a joining the group post lol

    Leilan
    Reply




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