"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
It has been some time since they’ve all gathered. Not overly long, but long enough that the idea of a raid (or a war) was just a dream. Something they wanted, but without any real cause. Now though? Now just enough time has passed that a war looms in their future. Is it avoidable? Absolutely. But will they avoid it? Highly unlikely. After all, they will likely be the ones to start it.
Sure, she could return Fiasko, and that might mitigate the Gate’s desire to attack. The Gates also wanted revenge, but they were probably not so stupid as to attack the Chamber if they really did not need to. They had yet to procure allies, though they were working on it, and the Amazons may take their side. But if the Amazons sided with the Gates, there would be war simply because the Amazons and the Chamber wanted war, reasons be damned.
But there was an even better possibility, one in which the Amazons sided with the Chamber. The sisters were voting on it as Straia calls to the kingdom. Her attention is mostly focused on the Chamber, but the ravens are keeping her constantly informed of which way the meeting in the Amazons was going. Currently, it was looking good for the Chamber, but there were many sisters left to vote. It could easily swing the other way.
In the end, whatever happened, there would be war. It was almost guaranteed. Almost. And to help aid that, Straia had no plans to return Fiasko. Beqanna was restless, terribly so, and so she would give them the outlet they so desperately wanted. It was not hard to start chaos when nearly everyone tired of peace.
She waits for the kingdom to gather around her before speaking. “As you all probably know, the Gates is searching for allies. They would like revenge, and Fiasko back. In addition, the Valley is under new leadership, Gallows and Fennick, and our alliance still stands with them.” In truth, it was probably stronger under Gallows than it ever would have been under Demian. Gallows was already plotting, looking for chaos before she’d even warmed her throne.
“The Gates have approached the Deserts and the Amazons. There’s no answer from either kingdom yet on alliances, though I would suspect the Deserts will side with the Gates. The Amazons, however, are proving more interesting. They are currently discussing, and many of them seem inclined to stand with the Chamber, should there be a war.” She pauses again, letting that sink in for a moment. The Amazons, Chamber and Valley together. Imagine what they could do.
Oh, it’s a glorious thing.
“And if we’re being very honest, there will almost certainly be a war. But of course, I think we should be on the leading edge of that. And I do want your opinions on the matter.”
She pauses here, letting them talk. In the end, she suspects they will go for war, though the usual instigators aren’t currently present. Perhaps, though it seems like such an impossible thought, the Chamber would advocate for peace.
“That said, no matter what we decide we want, I believe we should prepare for war. The Amazons are still a wild card. As such, I’ve promoted a number of you. Killdare, if you accept, I’d like you to serve at the Chamber’s Lord.” She doesn’t mention Erebor. Her son would understand, as he lives and breathes for the Chamber as she does. He has not been around, and should something happen to Straia, there needs to be someone in place and ready to take up the reins. Not that Killdare was the only capable option, but in the aftermath of war, he was level headed and smart enough to listen to everyone else. Besides, she couldn’t make him general, and he deserved a promotion.
“Kushiel, I’ve promoted you to Governor, and Shaytan to advisor. Both of you will receive the traits, empathy and invisibility respectively, that go with your ranks.” God help them all that their peace caste was Kushiel and Shayan. She wasn’t entirely sure they were ready, but if they were going to war, she was going to equip the members of her kingdom with every trait she had at her disposal. And she did believe that both of them could live up to the titles, so she’s thrusting them into the limelight a bit. “Astri, I’ve promoted you in both castes. Should Gryffen not return soon, I’m also encouraging Warship to assign Gryffen’s wings to you instead.” No point in wasting traits either. Hopefully, Gryffen would return. Not because Astri didn’t deserve wings, but rather that Gryffen was a blood-thirsty ass, and she wanted him on their side. But they were capable with or without the Chamber ghost.
“Warship, perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to drill all of us, myself included, yes?” And here she pauses again, letting him take the stage to see what sort of preparations he thinks they should make. It may all come to nothing, but she would not let the Chamber stand by idly simply waiting to see what happened. Whatever may come, they would sure as hell be ready for it.
The whispers come, with or without the caws of crows- or ravens for that matter. They come without the herald of the Chamber's ghost, they come, they come.
Beqanna grows restless. It grows tense with each season past, each day to come. Killdare can smell it in the skies, around the curve of a bend. It is often when he finds himself in strange company that it grows hushed, wide eyed, and recoils from his presence. The Chamber had made a name for itself, had begun to unravel the lull of peace in which their world grew stale. It was not hard to notice, even without the spread of gossip, or warnings like wildfire.
Killdare would not be caught unawares, nor would he let his own be caught in such a manner. Though he sorely wondered where both Erebor and Gryffen had been, he takes their rounds when they are his to shoulder-just as they all did. When he is not watching the Chamber, when he has a spare moment, he meets with Raelle. War was coming, it was in his mind inevitable, one way or another. Run He had instructed the girl and her dam. And if you can not run to me, you will run away. Often he ran the girl, building her muscles because her mother could not, or would not. Most days she was agreeable to the task, running alongside him with fervor. Other times he reduced the girl to tears, doing his best to impose on her the importance of her strength, her endurance. You must run, he would tell her sternly, I do not wish to make you, but I will.
The bay never wanted to be his father, the man he both respected, but despised as well. He would not suffer the loss of his only present child, his boys were gone, and he did his best to make do with his girl child. She would run, she would save her own skin, his line. To hell with her Dam if it came down to it. Killdare had a deeply instilled sense of family, of honor, and strength. If his daughter could not find him, she should seek the Cove, if the Cove was lost, she should flee. It was a lot to ask of a child, it was a lot to ask of anyone, but he could not coddle her every step of the way.
His broad head lifts, the curve of his jaw clenching as he flares his nostrils to scent. Everything was about smell, everything that mattered to him anyhow. Straia required a meeting, they were rightfully due, and he went because it is his duty.
The clearing is clearer than in times past, the most noted absence still, is that of Engelsfors. He snorts irritated with himself, the heart is the last to forget, no matter how far the thought has been pushed from the mind. It takes him moments to settle, ears forward, nodding to his Queen. He does it not because she asks it of him, but because he wishes to give it. They all served the Chamber, they placed their faith in the mare to lead, and she had not let them down yet.
Tidings come to no surprise, War, the words bring a smile to his lips. They are not unexpected and not poorly received, not at all by the Colonel. They wait though, for a decision to be made by the Amazons- he wishes for the best. With the Sisters at their side, they could throw Beqanna into the discord it desired, and he kinda still had a thing for Joscelin. Much as she treated him with disregard in that aspect, he had become subtly persistent, and he hoped to keep it that way. His thoughts though turn from the chase of Amazon tail, a promotion? Does he accept? "I would be proud to serve the Chamber as such." He nods and it's true. If being Lord made the Chamber happy, then it made him happy, and he would do his best to serve the position. However, Erebor is not absent from his mind, he was one of his dearest friends. He hoped there would not be bad blood between them now, though he would not expect such a juvenile reaction from the prince.
When all is said and done, and the opportunity to voice opinions comes, he gives his own baritone to the mix. "Return their Queen? No I don't think that would be convenient for us?" He looks to Straia in a quizzical, but joking manner. "But I'll have war if the Chamber will, she seems to grow as restless as the realm. I will fight for her with honor, with or without the Amazons." He is certain that his course would be no other way, it hadn't been for years now.
They come to the meeting together, this strange but intricately woven Chamber family. Surprisingly, Lupei takes the lead now - weaving through the softly rooted evergreens in his horse form. Despite the oddity of his color, it is becoming ever apparent that he is no longer a colt, but a stallion beginning to flesh out through and through. His mother follows shortly behind, little Dacica tagging at her heels. They are a strange crew, a sort of protection that Astri has built from her flesh and placed around her to replace the dead feeling of growing up alone. Her eyes glance between him and his half-sibling with equal measures of pride and affection. Lupei rolls his eyes.
The trio take a stance near the edge of the gathering, there are plenty here and yet Astri’s brood stands out like some green-ish shore thumb. If Lupei himself were not a part of the lineage, he’d be spending his time mocking them. But you can’t escape the family you were born into, so he practices instead fighting his distaste in order to train himself to have some sense of sick pride for his mother and his sister. A mare who started with nothing and no one and here she stands, two children deep and with another promotion to boot. Lupei locks this away for later.
His eyes shift to the strange stallion, his Lord now, who had come to visit his mother. Killdare. He didn’t particularly like the idea of some male hanging around, but he was far from able to speak his mind about it to Astri, so he brushes it aside and chooses instead to think on what they’d gathered about. War - it’s a slippery slope to openly speak about such a thing in the company of the entire kingdom, but he gets the sense that by spreading the excitement through word of mouth, Straia will somehow be able to speak this thing into existence.
It was an exciting concept to him; this war. He’d never seen on in his lifetime, neither had Astri he thinks. She’d spoken of wars in the past, of the entirety of Beqanna thrown into frenzied chaos, brother against brother. Lupei feels the urge of youth spring to life in him, and like any foolish, head-strong young adult, he wants the chance to make a name for himself. After Astri has finished her acceptance and thanks of her promotion, she turns back to look at him, nodding wordlessly in encouragement.
The young wolf slinks forward.
“I’ve grown up here, called this kingdom my home. My mother is a hard-working member, and it’s about time I start to pull my weight around here. I’d like to pledge myself to the war caste. I have … skills that I feel could be beneficial.” He speaks, blue eyes cast in the light of inspiration. He shifts then, flawlessly, becoming a hefty black wolf with a snarl for show. He holds this form, shaking out his coat before shifting back, a sly grin winding across his mouth. “That is, of course, if you’ll have me.” He breaths, looking across to where Warship and Killdare stand.
The change in the lands had been subtle. Something like the seasons shifting; barely noticeable unless you were looking for it. It had come to them in the form of hushed whispers and anxious rumors, but it had come nonetheless. He didn’t need to listen to the rumors. This wasn’t his first experience with war, and he’d heard the way his fathers heart had begun to beat frantically. He’d known it from the beginning because of that, felt it in the very marrow of his old bones. Straia was nothing if not ambitious, and she seemed hell bent on proving that she was worth her salt. The punch to the Gates had been nothing more than a proverbial flexing of their muscles, or at least in his opinion. It was simply a stepping stone on the path to much greater things. While he didn’t necessarily agree with letting Gryffen run around off leash, he couldn’t deny that he longed for something to break them from the monotony.
He was born for war, bred for it. It was written in his flesh from generations back, and the need for it thrummed through his veins as easily as his life blood did. War was etched onto his skin, in the silvery scars and his hardened heart. It was his blood right, and he would not ignore the sound of the drum, no matter how far off they may be. He would always heed that call, especially if the good of the Chamber was at stake. He was nothing if not fanatically loyal, just as Straia was ambitious. While he couldn’t say he shared her exact ambitions, he always strove for the overall good of his kingdom.
He didn’t need to hear her call to find himself moving towards the center of the kingdom. Atop his horns perched a shadow raven, a gift from the queen herself. While he wasn’t entirely sure what he was supposed to do with such a gift, and he didn’t much like it perching on his head, he had accepted it graciously enough. On his chest the infinity symbol glowed brightly and he was surprised he couldn’t hear it humming. Ever since they had rolled into motion it had started pulsating; it was fed by the Chamber, after all. The Chamber was essentially his life force gifted in part by Eight. His mortal heart should have been dust years ago, but his Chamber-fed heart would beat so long as there was a Chamber to fuel it.
The black stallion slipped in quietly beside the Raven Queen, standing tall and making himself an impressive sentinel. His eyes swept over each and every one of them, trying to put names to faces and so on and so forth. He listened quietly while Straia spoke, mulling over her words in his mind. He knew, regardless of which way the Amazons went, that their army was strong. They were backed by not only their experience but more than one able and ancient magician. While he didn’t necessarily agree with using them, he had to admit that they were a nice additive to ones arsenal. Then there was the usual political bullshit, and he was surprised (but not shocked) to hear her promote Killdare to the position of Lord. A position once held by their now absentee son. The general didn’t miss his offspring in the love sense, but he did miss his insight and capabilities within the Chamber. But they would move on without him, for that was what was best for the Chamber. “My concern with allying with the Amazons after their vote, is will they all be willingly fighting? I know they are a fanatically loyal bunch, but surely they all have their own convictions. I worry that those who voted to side with the Gates will be less than inclined to go to war.” They could go on without the Amazons, whichever way the went. Straia spoke to Astri, and Warship turned to meet her gaze. “If you don’t mind, I’d give him no longer than a week. Time is of the essence, and I’d rather her be accustomed to those wings prior to a war.” he said gruffly, rolling his shoulders. The queen surely knew that he didn’t approve of some of Gryffen’s actions, but the displacement of his kingdom trait went beyond his personal feelings for the cremello. Those wings were meant to be used, not to sit idle against the withers of a horse out of the kingdom doing whatever he was doing. “For preparations, I’d like us to mock with our allies from the Valley and the Amazons, should they decide to join us. To fight capably side by side, you need to know what your allies can do and what weaknesses they may have. You may very well find yourself picking up their slack, and them doing the same for you.” His voice was brisk and his eyes were bright, the sign on his chest practically humming. Just then a new face arrived, and Warship’s black mouth split into a grin. Where once stood a young stallion, was now a wolf. “I think we can find a use for you, boy.” he said as kindly as he knew how, nodding his head to the colt. Whenever this war decided to take off, the Chamber was going to be armed to the teeth.
I was looking for a breath of life another taste of divine rush
Straia’s right, she’s probably just doomed the Peace caste. The hard and fast truth is that Shaytan is neither fighter nor diplomat. She’s useful for standing around at the border and making sure no one is stealing one of their members, and occasionally she ventures off to try and steal her own. But crowds like this are definitely not her thing. She’d rather be in front of the flaming tree, staring into its ever changing, always warm, flickering bits of light.
If it were anyone else, the spotted sentinel would probably ignore it, playing dumb and single-minded in the way that only she can get away with. However, Straia’s voice mostly likely had the power to call Shay back from even the halls of the dead, and so in life, she jumps to obey. When she arrives, Shay barrels her way to the front, eager to let her eyes feast upon the tobiano Raven Queen. Her Queen. Her heart begins to thump wildly in her chest, and she finds she cannot remember when last she actually saw the mare in front of her. The nightmare.. Ugh. No. Don’t remember the nightmare. In fact, actively push that vision of a skinless Straia from your mind, you crazy woman, you! Bad Shaytan. Bad!
Shaytan silently wills Straia to come over to her, to touch her and caress her neck in some show of favoritism. All her mental power is funneled into that thought, which leaves her more than a little surprised when she hears her name. It shakes her up a bit, taking her a moment to realize that she’s received a promotion AND invisibility. Her eyes grow wide and she stifles an uncharacteristic squeak. Oh! Oh boy oh boy oh boy! She is doing something right after all!
Unfortunately, she has nothing constructive to offer to the meeting. Shaytan will continue to do what Shaytan does best - and she will join the fight when it comes, but the likelihood that she gets any training for it is slim. Unless they call her out by name, or send her to do something else. Ooooh… maybe she could be some sort of spy? That’s what invisibility is good for, after all. And then she could save the day and gain Straia’s favor and… gosh, the possibilities are endless.
Nymphetamine heard the queen call for the members of the Kingdom, he was new here are eager to prove himself as a useful member of the kingdom. Only Killdare and Straia knew of his position and the job he had been given through a gutsy move on his part. But the Raven Queen was far from trusting. She and Killdare had sent him forth, with instructions to gather the needed information from their most recent victims. Nymphetamine was eager to continue this- the end goal still in sight. He knew the importance of proving himself, he knew Straia was leary of him, so When she called he would come, as quickly as he could. The blood bay necromancer worked his way to the gathering hearing and seeing many crowded around the fae with the feather crown.
Nymphetamine settles in among them, listening to all they have to saw, being new, he knows better than to over step any of the beasts who rank higher than he. He watches, the proud Killdare take his promotion, and then sees the shiver run through Shaytan as she acknowledges the promotion… there were other there too, a wolf-shifter he had not meet, and the head of the soldier cast, Warship, that Killdare had mentioned to him earlier. Nymphetamine knew not where he would be the best suited, outside of his information passing he was doing in secret. The young necromancer would offer up his help in anyway0 he had after all bowed in fealty before he left to continue spying.
Nymphetamine stood proud letting his voice join the others, dark baritone rasps snaked through the air. He spoke mostly to Straia, but the others as well, as he should make himself known. ”I am willing to help, wherever you feel by abilities best fit , my Queen. I am too new to comment the altruism of our alliances, but I will do what I can to strength Chamber’s victory.”
He felt Straia’s invisible raven shift upon his back, it was ever present, a constant reminder that he was still earning the Queen’s trust. The queen knew of his necromancy, and he didn’t feel the need to raise the dead to make a show, better let Straia take the lead and place where he could. Considering his double agent status he had a feeling the peace cast may be a more useful placing- he could manipulate gates for them. He was constantly working with Mast, working into his inner circle, gaining his trust. He was doing the same here, the constant struggle of the spy game he worked in- there was always mistrust. He looked at the Queen and waited. Time would give him his answer and until then, he waited.
Nymphetamine
cold was my soul, untold was the pain I faced when you left me: a rose in the rain
ooc: kyra, i hope you don't mind that I posted here before our other thread was done, but I wanted to keep things moving
Kushiel always expected that the horses around him were crazy as jay birds. It had been an itching feeling at the back of his mind. A subtle whispering of, “we’re all mad here.” The great gray stallion shifted his body and smiled. Granted, for some, it was more than a whisper. He didn’t mind that either. It was good to know where you stood. The idea of those minds at war was enough to make him laugh. Not because their strength would be laughable, no, but because it would be wild, unpredictable, and a sight to behold. As Kushiel was fond of saying, he wasn’t built for manual labor, but oh, he would like to see it. He hoped, when the time came, that he could see it. Hell, he’d thrown some fireballs if they would let him. Kushiel drawled pleasantly, as if all of this was a delightful game.
“And waste all that work? I say we keep the queen.” Now he grinned, and the smile looked natural on his face. They had, after all, busted their ass to get Miss Fiasko. They had to go to the Gates, burn it down and come back. That was three things they did. Granted, those three things hadn’t been particularly hard, but somedays just getting out of bed was a feat of strength. Compared to getting out of bed, razing and pillaging a kingdom was a feat of strength. Even thinking about it made him tired. Another thing that made him tired was thinking about dealing with both his mother, and the Amazons in one war. Kushiel couldn’t help it, he groaned.
“If the Amazons are divided now what’s going to happen when the fun starts and they stab us in the back? The last I heard, they’re loyal to themselves and their Jungle alone. If they want to join us, fine, but let’s not waste time convincing them to do what’s in their best interest, they probably won’t, just to be difficult.” The writing, as they say, was clearly on the wall. Nobody, not a single kingdom, or even a few kingdoms combined, could stand up to the power of the Chamber and the Valley. The fact that the Amazons were even considering joining the Gates meant that they were useless, sentimental fools. Kushiel liked fools, but not of the sentimental kind.
The talk continued, and Kushiel found it harder and harder to pay attention. He was imagining what it would be like, if the Chamber, the Valley and the Amazons all gathered in one place. There would be so, so many women. Usually, this idea would appeal to Kushiel. In this case, however, ninety percent of those women would be trying to tell him what to do. The gray stallion made a face, and sincerely hoped that war came soon. He was contemplating this when Straia announced his and Shaytan’s promotion. Kushiel started to laugh, started to say, “Good one, Straia. Now, who’s really in charge?” when he realized she was serious. Kushiel looked to Shaytan. Oh good lord, this was going to be really interesting. Not too long ago, Kushiel and Shaytan had bickered like children over who got to stand nearest to the tree. Figuring it was time to make nice, Kushiel stepped towards his new Advisor and tried to jostle her roughly.
“Hey, what do think of that, advisor?” He said it in a whisper, to not interrupt the rest of the meeting, and he dragged out Shaytan’s new title so that each letter was longer then it should be. Then he wagged his brows teasingly. This was going to be fun.
OOC: sorry I'm late! Didn't see the thread. -is blind-
Since her mock Kimber has been quite the quiet bird. She is a sore loser, even though they technically tied she's been proverbially licking her wounds since not to mention her ego shattered with Warship and her other acquaintance simply disappearing.
Poor girl woman.
It is a sharp call that she hears from Straia and though it's not for herself, individually, she knows it must be important. The blue ombre mare makes her way towards the crowd, several new faces have popped up while she was throwing her childish tantrum in her room. Of course she spots Warship and immediately pushes her way through, sliding another mare to the wayside (imaginary I guess? lmao) and biting at his withers. She then realizes the tone of this meeting and how serious it is, so her playfulness also goes to the wayside. "Who cares really if they're undecided, don't they have some mantra about fight with your heart or some other cliche phrase? Asking half of them who've voted otherwise to show up and work is like asking a child to be still. Their Queen thinks she has made great strides with allowing them to vote but all she has done is caused a rift in her own ranks," Kimber has never really spoken about politics or anything other than snarky remarks to the men within thirty feet of her. "I'm no expert but I'll go to bat for you and the Chamber, what else have I got to do on such a glorious day?"She is a bit smartassy but since when did that ever hurt anyone?
They come, of course they do. They are all loyal to the Chamber, and so they serve it willingly, even as she runs them into war. But then again, how many had asked for it? How many longed for raids, for chaos, for the Chamber to be something again? They’d never fight for her if they didn’t want it as well.
Killdare comes first, accepting his new title and joking about returning Fiasko. Straia chuckles, giving him a grin before turning her attention to the next one. Astri and Lupei (a very green pair, she notices), and Lupei pledges himself to he army. She leaves Warship to accept that as he speaks next. He mentions Gryffen, and she simply adds, “Give him a day for all I care.” Because she will not wait around for him, and if Warship wants Astri to have the wings now, she could certainly have them. “If you would like me to go to Gallows with you to propose mocks, just let me know. I’m sure they will be open to the idea though.”
Gallows was even more hell bent on chaos that Straia was. It wouldn’t be hard to get the Valley to prepare for war. Shayton squeaks and the promotion, and Straia is pretty sure all the bunnies in Beqanna are doomed. Oh well. It would make Shaytan more useful at stealing, if nothing else. Nymphetamine pledges to help, as he damn well better. She still didn’t trust him, but his little secret could come in handy as long as he stayed on their side. She was beginning to think he was drunk enough on the idea of power to fall in love with the Chamber.
Kushiel asks about the Amazons stabbing them in the back, and Straia grins, knowing more than they do and more then she can tell them. Though she’d grin anyway here, simply because it felt right. “Oh, I suspect they probably will stab us in the back. Some of them, anyway. But it seems, according to the ravens, that there are still a bunch of goody-two-shoes in that kingdom. They are somewhat divided, with a handful simply not wanting to fight at all, but they will be offering aid to the Gates.”
Kimber too mentions the rift, and Straia simply nods slightly, though her grin is wicked. Half that kingdom wouldn’t fight. Kimber was right. The Deserts was dead, the Falls and the Dale not much better. Even with all of Beqanna against the Chamber and the Valley, they’d probably be perfectly fine.
“I think that’s it for this meeting. Warship, let’s get some mocks going and whatever other training we can offer. We can’t sit around forever and wait for everyone else to grow stronger.” In the end, they’d be smarter to lead the war, not wait for Beqanna to show up on their doorstep.
