"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
Since his birth Brynmor hadn’t been this far south again. And that particular day on the beach wasn’t something the gray stallion remembered. His memories only go as far back as the Chamber, and the years he had spent in one of their darkest corners, before he had been send to the meadow. From the meadow he had gone to the field, and there Hurricane had found him. Ever since that day the dappled male had lived in the Tundra, only making trips to the field, the meadow or the forest once in a while. Those trips were nothing compared to this trip to the Valley, but at least it wasn’t a trip he had to make lone.
His northern home had send him south with a mission, or task would probably be a better word, and he had been asked to take Patchouli with him. The palomino stallion had joined the brotherhood at the same time Brynmor had faced the caves, both persuaded a career in the diplomacy caste, and although Brynmor was ranked higher, they both had little experience. It was the first time he went to visit another kingdom, and he was naturally a little nervous. He didn’t know what to expect, both to the lack of experience, but also with the recent developments and the post-war changes.
”Offspring want us to meet the Valley’s new queen, to learn her view for the Valley, but also to see what kind of alliances she’s looking for” he briefly explains to the palomino male. He had been quite during most of their journey, a little too awkward and unfamiliar with his companion to chat freely with him. It wasn’t like they knew each other that well, but maybe this trip would be the way to change that. Nonetheless Brynmor didn’t really know how to position himself, after all, all brothers were equal, right?
As they near the Valley’s border he calls out. Brynmor doesn’t want to cross the Valley’s border and walk in just like that. He really didn’t like it when strangers just walked into the Tundra, when the borders of his home weren’t respected, and therefor he would patiently wait until he was invited in. From there they could always learn if they were welcome or not.
03-31-2016, 11:32 PM (This post was last modified: 03-31-2016, 11:41 PM by Topsail.
Edit Reason: totally forgot she's a telepath -_-
)
Her unexpected rise to the throne hadn’t gone over without a hitch.
Not that she had expected it to, or even hoped it would. The challenge only fueled her desire to succeed and win the hearts of her kingdom mates. Like her father before her, she would never presume to call them subjects; each cog was vital to the smooth running of the machine. But she was nothing if not an optimist, and the bumps in the proverbial road were to be viewed as stepping stones instead. She would not fail them, and she would prove herself worthy or die trying to do so.
The darkness of the kingdom had taken some getting used to. At first the shadows unnerved her. Until now she had been used to dewy meadows and her place in the stars. Her life had been centered around all things light and good. The shadows of the Valley at seemed to her like an impenetrable force, as if they were closing ranks to banish the new usurper. But gradually they had thinned and her eyes had become acclimated. Now she leaned into their surprising warmth, winding amongst the trees like an adoring cat through the legs of its master. Like the cat, she was a quiet strength not to be underestimated. The kingdom had blessed her with a powerful gift, one she didn’t quite understand but was eager to explore more. It thrummed through her veins like lightning, barely contained and begging for release. Beneath her soft grulla exterior was a hardened, snarling interior.
Sighing contentedly for the first time in months, she looked over her new home. It was dark and mysterious but it was home. Mist rose from the trees in beautiful spirals, and the lonely howl of a wolf echoed across the ridges. The grulla queen smiled and the moment lost herself to the surroundings. But the far off echo of a new male voice broke her from her reverie, and her eyes flew open in an instant. Within her chest the beast snarled, sniffing the air and eyeing the horizon with slit-pupil eyes. Swallowing hard she choked it down, though for a moment the grulla skin had begun to ripple and be replaced with tawny brown scales. Pushing her delicate face into the wind she called back, though she was already well on her way to the new comers, of which there were now two. As she neared them, a quick whiff and a glance at their minds gave away their home. Ice and snow; Tundra men. Smiling pleasantly she slowed to approach, dipping her pretty head at the gray and palomino. “Welcome to the Valley. Topsail.” she said by way of greeting, forcing her voice into both their minds and raising a brow over one brown eye. “What brings the Tundra here?” Idle banter, that, because she knew very well their motives. Word spread quickly here.
topsail
even an army of sheep should be feared, if they are being led by the lion
ooc - she is a telepath, so anything she says will be heard in their minds
Why? Why, why, why? Him of all horses that his King had at his command, was it Patchouli that was summoned to go to the Valley. His laidback expression exchanged for one of stoic strain as the words left Brynmor’s mouth. He was joking right? Patchouli wished he was. You know who was last staying in the Valley? That would be a pale woman named Padma, or as Patch so fondly refers to her, Mother.
Needless to say they didn’t get along, they never had. Sure Patch usually managed to remain silent in her presence, either scared or lacking the gumption to waste of fighting back, but it was the most awkward way to spend the day. Tongue clenched tight in your check, brow aching from the many times you wince during a single conversation with the vile woman.
He followed Brynmor anyway, he had signed up for the peace caste after all, he had made his own bed in this matter. Best to lie in it chum.
Alliances, he nods listening calmly to the other explain the nature of their journey. He had figured as much, why else the never ending trek? The Kingdom that was the furthest from his new home was their first destination, oh how he longed to see the clover of Heaven’s Gates! (oh how much he would have regretted that trip!) Instead he halts at the edges of the dark kingdom, the Valley.A place where just the scenery was enough to set your hairs on end, it was not the most comforting place but he did his best to remain calm. Even if that meant his brown eyes shifted at each shadow or imagined movement within them.
When she melts from the cover of her Kingdom, Patchouli tosses his head, taking a step back as his eyes adjust to the mousey color of her skin. She’s so young,,. he thinks while the thought catches, snared by words that flood his mind, turning his nostrils to wide circles aT the tip of his blackened nose.
“Oh, hey there your majesty. What’s – what’s happenin?” He stumbles awkwardly over the sounds his laid back tone taking an edge of uncertainty, still trying to register the mental words that found their way into his brain.
it is better to conquer yourself, than to win a thousand battles
Honestly, he was glad that Offspring had told him to take Patchouli with him on his trip to the Valley. Even though the palomino brother didn’t have experiences on matters like this – just like himself – it was good to know he wasn’t thrown into this alone. It comforted Brynmor to have a brother accompanying him, even if he was supposed to lead this visit. He hadn’t really had the chance to get to know Patchouli better yet, maybe he would during this trip, but he seemed to be a pleasant companion.
As the stand still at the border of the kingdom he let his gaze travel across that what he could see. It was much different than his own home, but he guessed it had she same eerie feeling as the Chamber would give off. Even though he had lived there for over three years, Brynmor had never laid his eyes upon her, as he had been staring off into the black nothing. The lands before them are all shadowy, pine trees decorating the lands and soft flowy hills of grass.
Her answer reaches him only a short while after his own call. He can only appreciate the fact that they are let known that they were heard, instead of having them wait while not even knowing that somebody would be coming. Brynmor dips his own head as the grulla approaches them, a kind smile on the corners of his lips. But he cannot say he was prepared to hear her voice speak to him in their minds. Call it unmannered or even rude, but you couldn’t really blame them. He blinks his a few times, blue eyes studying her with the surprise evident on his features, but it is only when Patchouli speaks up that the smile returns back on his lips.
Once again he dips his head. ”Please excuse me, Queen Topsail, you surprised me” he apologies as he does so, before he lifts his head again to have his blue eyes meet hers again. ”I’m Brynmor, and this is Patchouli” he introduces them, glancing towards the palomino stud next to him. He couldn’t really blame Patchouli for his reaction – he himself had been taken by surprise after all – but he couldn’t really call his words very polite.
Even though he is surprised to have learned that she knows where they are from, he tries to let that go and focus on what they came here for. ”Our king asked us to visit to the Valley” he answers her, pausing for a short second to study the possible reaction upon her features. ”To learn about the kingdom and her new queen.” Maybe he is little too direct, but that was how Brynmor was. He really couldn’t help it, as he wasn’t the one to just chitchat about nothing when there was business. Not that he wouldn’t mind to chat with the queen to get to know her, but it didn’t sit right with him he would just talk around the subject.
In their world, word traveled as quickly as the crow flew. Somehow, it shaped itself into the winds and the mist, flowing from ear to eager ear. Naturally, bits and pieces got lost in translation or left out all together. Inevitably, the words and gossip would be changed, until the final story was nothing like the original. From there, the bits and pieces would be stitched back into something that possibly resembled the original but with a unique twist or turn.
The Valley queen wondered just what they were saying about her.
After all, she was a former princess of the Gates. She was young, only nearing her sixth year. The angles of her face were soft and feminine. Everything about her was out of place and she was sure that had been the topic of many a discussion. Even now, standing here in front of the delegation from the Tundra, she could feel their apprehension. She could have read it on Brynmor’s mind, had she chosen to. Despite the ability to read minds she often refrained, finding it somewhat rude to break down those barriers without prior permission. But if she wanted to be heard then she had to delve in, and as such she ignored the shock and confusion on the two stallion’s faces. The grulla was quite used to the shock by now so she simply smiled, both with her satiny lips and honey-colored eyes. “Forgive me, gentlemen. This is the only voice I have.” she said, hopefully kindly. She sometimes grew weary of explanation, but it inevitably saved everyone from some degree of confusion. “In any case, welcome to the Valley, Brynmor and Patchouli of the Tundra.” There was no beating around the bush, and they soon arrived at the real reason they were here. Topsail nodded in understanding, looking from one stallion to the other. “You know my name, so that’s a start. I am young, but not so young that I am still fool-hearted. I plan to carry this kingdom to the best of my ability, and to find strong allies to stand at our sides. We have strong members, and to my knowledge the alliance we held with the Chamber still stands, though I‘m eager to expand beyond that.” she paused, raising a brow slightly. “And your king? What are his plans for the Tundra?” Too bold, perhaps, but she wasn’t one to beat around the bush either.
topsail
even an army of sheep should be feared, if they are being led by the lion
Oh right, a name! He should definitely have started with that somewhere huh? He was too busy listening to her words sounding through his mind and the sudden appearance she made from the shadows. What a creeptastic place!
Luckily for Patchouli, Brynmor easily takes the speaking field, giving the new Queen both of their names and somewhat saving him from the embarrassment of his own surprise. Good, he wasn't the only one that had been caught off guard. Taking a moment to let it really sink in she speaks again, another bunch of words tumbling into his mind but this time he is still. Still, save for the way his eyes widen and his ears fall flat to his skull. It was all so disconcerting, he meant her no harm but he hardly had control over the way it was not a normal way to share conversation. It made him uneasy.
The only voice she has. Well now, that was sad and he felt like a jerk. Here he was acting a plain rabbit among wolves when the girl had no others means to speak to them. Nice, Patch. Real nice.
"Forgive me your Majesty. It is...unsettling the way in which you speak, I'm sorry to react the way I have." His blazed face hangs for a moment, eyes to the ground as he contemplates her next words, her ideas on ruling and the questions she has for them both. The King, what did he want? Of that Patchouli knew very little.
"I do know that he seeks to rebuild the brotherhood, to restore us to the numbers and strength we once held. He is a fair King an seeks to make ties with those that are also both formidable friends as well as foe."
Really that's about as far as Patch's knowledge of the King's ideas go, the very basic ideas for alliances between the Kingdoms.
it is better to conquer yourself, than to win a thousand battles
Honestly, Brynmor knew nothing more of her than her name and her title. Topsail, Queen of the Valley. Little did he know of her linage or former home, nor the way she had been able to take the Valley’s throne. Before Offspring had taken over the Tundra’s reign he had only been to visits to the field, and although he had been active, he had been little involved with other kingdoms. And therefor he hadn’t learned anything about them. That changed after his promotion and slowly but surely the graying male was growing in that role.
But that still didn’t make this visit to the Valley any easier, as it was his first time visiting another kingdom on official kingdom business. And he still felt a little hesitant and insecure doing this.
He can only nod in agreement with Patchouli as the queen explains her ways, though she really hadn’t been obligated to tell them her disability and ability. ”I’m sorry to hear that, Queen Topsail, but I see – or actually hear – that you are quite capable at expressing yourself.” His voice is soft and kind, hoping that his words would reach her in the way he meant to. He didn’t pity her, nor did he think of her as special. He himself had been born with a defect and although his blue eyes were now capable of seeing the world, he had once only known darkness.
Brynmor stays silent as Patchouli answers her question, a small smile lingering on the corners of his lips. He’s pleased to learn that the palomino took his position in the peace caste seriously and that he was aware of how Offspring saw the Tundra’s future. Once Patchouli falls silent he takes over. ”Patchouli says it correctly. Under Offspring’s reign’s our number has already grown and the initiation of brothers has started again. He’s ready for Beqanna to change and he would like to stir that change. And he want to do that by forming alliances that Beqanna hasn’t seen before.” He pauses for a moment, gaze moving from Topsail towards Patchouli and then back to the grulla queen. ”Right now we have a tentative alliance with the Chamber, but our king is curious to learn if you would be interested in such a thing.”
"Nothing is coming to rise."
OOC: I feel like I cut it off a bit roughtly, but my Bryn muse did go poof there. Sorry..
The Tundra was often quiet, flying low under the radar of more…noisy, kingdoms. It wasn’t, Topsail supposed, that they were weak. To her, the Tundra men had always been the stuff of legends- strong, hardy men living in the harshest of landscapes. But just as her rise to the throne hadn’t gone unnoticed, neither had the recent upswing of activity in the land of ice and snow. By all accounts their new king was taking his position seriously, gathering men and allies. Were they an unlikely ally for the Valley? Perhaps. But then again, a Gates princess was an unlikely queen of an “evil” kingdom. If nothing else Topsail enjoyed busting through the mold and leaving it smoldering behind her.
Rather than be upset by the two males obvious frustration, she offered them a knowing smile. “No matter, gentlemen. I often forget that my voice is pretty unconventional, as far as speaking goes.“ she said, sending her voice into both minds. It probably was uncomfortable to have someone else’s voice forced into your mind without your knowledge or consent. The palomino continued speaking and Topsail nodded along, absorbing his words and mulling them over. Brynmor confirmed his companions words, and Topsail took a moment to think. “Your king, Offspring, seems to have big plans for the Tundra. I’m glad to hear it.” and she genuinely was. She had often thought what a formidable ally they would be under the right reign. “We’re also allied with the Chamber, as well as the Gates, though I’m sad to say the Gates is withering on the proverbial vine at the moment.” That particular thought saddened her, and she could only speculate that wherever her father was, he too was devastated by the news. “The Valley is very interested in an alliance. I’d like to speak to your king about something else too, something swirling in the back of my mind. Care to lead the way boys?” Without waiting for their answer she headed north, assuming the men would follow behind and lead her when necessary. A thought was forming in the back of her mind, and it was of utmost importance that it come to fruition sooner rather than later.
topsail
even an army of sheep should be feared, if they are being led by the lion
ooc - if y'all want to post for her in the tundra, she'll be along! please include offy in the tundra post
