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Rogue

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 Adult, 10 yrs  Stallion
 16.3 hh  1300 lbs
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Posted on Jan 10 2018, 7:48 PM. (Edited: Jan 10 2018, 7:50 PM by Goblin.)
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#1



It was shiny. And it was stuck in the branches above his head, just out of Goblin reach. Teasing his one-track mind as he reached up with a black nose at first. Then, he reached up with a single hoof - raising it to strike at the bark of the tree. But that did nothing except make noise.

New plan. The Goblin raised himself up on his hind hooves, striking both forehooves at the branches of the tree in desperation to grab the shiny thing. His cloak - another thing he had grabbed because it was shiny in places - was smothered in the grime and grease of the marshlands but he didn't care. He didn't know how to care. He didn't even know he didn't know how to care. Or even - okay, You get the point.

So the hooves reached up towards the shiny thing and at last - At Last! - they struck it. And the shiny thing fell. Down, down down, straight onto the Goblin's head. Where it shattered with the horrendous sound and feeling of breaking glass.

Only, that wasn't all that happened. The air seemed to fill with a blinding light. All of a sudden, the Goblin couldn't breathe. He couldn't feel. He couldn't see. It was just pure, white light for a few brief eternities, until it wasn't.

When it wasn't, the Goblin had his name back. He had his mind back. His chest was burning with the searing pain of being stabbed through the chest with his own blade again. He gasped for air, sucking it into starved lungs until he could steady the swaying of his four limbs in the marsh.

He was in a marsh. A marsh! Ha ha ha...

He screamed. And screamed and screamed and screamed for it was all he could think to do. He could think - I can think! - and he could see and he could remember. But he couldn't remember. I can't remember. How did he get here? How did I get here? What year is it? What century is it? Where is everyone? Where is here?

So many sudden questions and senses bombarding him at once, it was all far too much. So, he simply screamed.


walking like a zombie
OOC| o.o I forgot how to breathe writing this. Sorry it it's confusing >.< Basically smashed a faerie in a jar and Voila! No more zombie - mostly


Lord

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 Adult, 5 yrs  Stallion
 17.2 hh  1800 lbs
152 Posts 2,167.5 points
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Posted on Jan 10 2018, 8:25 PM.
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#2

Kyrian

As I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,,

A winged equine pushed his way through the dense foliage. Cypress trees clustered around him and seemed to try to block his path, or perhaps they were guiding him; whatever their reason, the draft wasn’t in the mood for their games as he was aiming to leave the marsh. The sentience of this place was starting to prickle at the edges of his awareness. The silver-gray hair upon his topline was standing on end and it wasn’t because of the cold. About to head south, the brute snorted when he came upon dense, wilted bracken fern and black grass. That he could have pressed through but the thorny remains of the swamp rose made him hesitate. He didn’t appreciate the idea of being pricked. Turning to the clearer southeast direction, he continued at a sedate stride.

The everglade was decorated by the gifts of winter, his bright gaze taking in the layers of frost and dusting of snow. The roan’s thick winter coat allowed him warmth during his exploits so he was in no hurry to leave and find shelter. He simply wanted a new place to explore in the hopes of relieving his tedium. 

As if to grant his wish, a scream split the air. Onyx ears snapped to attention as a masculine head bolted upright upon a thick, arched neck. Intense citrine eyes scanned the vicinity for an signs of life as the cry persisted. His audits informed him that he needed to head more directly to the east and miraculously a beaten trail presented itself to him. Without a second thought the stallion charged toward the loud, piercing cry. It didn’t sound too far off.

Sure enough, bursting forth from spindly alders and rustling underbrush, the rogue came to a skidding halt at the sight of a speared equine. The broad sword pierced their chest and emerged from their back. His eyes widened at the sight and the orbs darkened with worry. "Ho! What has happened to you?" he shouted to be heard over the continuous screaming. The pegasus felt his limbs move forward but he was helpless. What could be done?


"Your character's speech tags." | | "Your character's thinking tags."
 
OOC | Goblin
Words | number


Rogue

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 Adult, 10 yrs  Stallion
 16.3 hh  1300 lbs
14 Posts 0 points
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Posted on Jan 12 2018, 1:29 PM.
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#3



He kept screaming until his throat and lungs were raw with the effort. The sound just kept going and going and going, filling the marsh with his panicked voice. It was a haunting sound, bouncing mercilessly off the trees and undampened by the lingering wet of the air.

When at last he ran out of precious oxygen, feeling no more settled or able to form any more coherent thoughts. There was simply the rawness of his throat and ragged, heaving breaths were drawn in and quickly lost. Black eyes were blown wide in a pure state of panic. Nothing but beautiful, terrible panic.

It was his whole world now, this single instant. There was no recollection to be had of how the man had gotten here, how he had passed whatever landmarks had led him here, how long had passed since his last memory. He could only vaguely guess that he was miles from his home, centuries from his loved ones. And there was absolutely no way back.

Cautiously, his head turned, only to come to a halting stop when the visage of another living, equine being was there. Goblin stared at him, long and with haunted eyes, as if the man was a ghost, but at the same time, there was so much relief in the gaze it was heart-wrenching. He was like a man who had not seen a single lifeform in far, far too long. Like until this very moment he had believed he was the only man left. That his cries, no matter how loud they were, would never again be answered. But they had.

There was no telling how long the other man had stood there and watched the Goblin scream. No telling if he had yelled over the sound. Not a word had penetrated the stabbed man's skull, but he was listening now, with gasps of breath short but smoother than they were before.

"W - w- w..." his tongue felt thick and heavy in his mouth as he tried to work his jaw. The once smooth and beautiful voice was broken and unresponsive. As if he hadn't spoken a single word for centuries. There was no telling if he had or not.

The red head shook jerkily, eyes not moving from the grey pegasus. Every muscle in the Goblin's lean body was taught to the point of snapping due to the tension. But he couldn't relax them. He didn't know how.

"Where am I?" he pleaded, words forming at last.

walking like a zombie
OOC| Kyrian He doesn't seem to think the sword is the issue here >.>


Lord

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 Adult, 5 yrs  Stallion
 17.2 hh  1800 lbs
152 Posts 2,167.5 points
 Ritsika Offline
Posted on Jan 16 2018, 7:26 AM.
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#4

Kyrian

I wear my crown of thorns and pull the knife out my chest ,,

"W - w- w..."

The wounded stallion stammered and sputtered. It seemed as though his airways were constricted. The draft sympathized as his ebony ears strained forward, encouraging the stranger to release his words or simply breathe. He wasn’t sure he would be able to speak if the circumstance was reversed. Thinking upon the matter for a brief instance his roman sloped head would minutely shift left to right in a negative. No, words would evade him as well. Perhaps the rogue would be able to stave off death as best he could in order to have one last glimpse of his loved ones and friends. Their faces flashed through his mind's eye: a regal sapphire profile, the wise gray eyes staring straight into his soul, a pair of mischievous amethyst orbs smirking his way.  Yet the idea of having their final image of him being so brutally maimed had him instantly acknowledging the fact that he would not put that burden upon them. The roan stallion would not be so greedy that he would put them through that. He would have to rely on his memories and gather his strength for a final whispered message. Returning to the present, he avidly watched the blood red bay toss his head side to side.

"Easy," the winged equine soothed weakly while taking a hesitant step forward in case the other stallion became unsteady on his hooves. The impaled stud was so taut that he looked like a predator about to spring into action. Was he feral with pain? Or refraining from writhing in agony? In startling contrast, droplets of blood splattered and stained the frozen ground beneath solid hooves. The pungent scent was filling the air. Citrine orbs took in the grim scene in eerie detached confusion when the mortally injured male managed to croak a question.

Caught off guard, he was dumbfounded – no, mind boggled. Had he truly asked about his whereabouts? That seemed like a lesser anxiety considering the broad blade piercing his chest and protruding from his back. Dazed, the pegasus indulged the inquiry with a calm response, "You are in the Sentient Marshlands." Finally taking note of the foreign material draped upon the hurt stud’s back, it looked to be a cloak. In its prime, the cloak must have been an eye catching and elegant piece but it looked worse for wear as if the pair had traveled many miles together. "A smaller territory within the borders of Elysium." The baroque hoped that the clarification might spark a modicum of recognition. For the time being, he was overwhelmed by the whole situation. He wasn't a healer. This was beyond his ability to console. Wherever this wandered had come from, he was in danger of dying. 

"We need to get you a healer." But who? Who could heal such a grievous wound? Maybe he should be concerned with finding the murderous foe instead. He would bring them to justice if only he knew their name, "Who did this to you?"

"Your character's speech tags." | | "Your character's thinking tags."
 
OOC | Goblin you have a very concerned citizen at your aide. Signed Ky 
Words | number


Rogue

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 Adult, 10 yrs  Stallion
 16.3 hh  1300 lbs
14 Posts 0 points
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Posted on Jan 16 2018, 12:03 PM.
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#5



Having words to put down as answers to his questions offered a form of relief, even if he couldn't process the information. But he clung to the words, the names offered to him, like they were a lifeline. Repeating them over and over and over again in the syrupy haze in his skull, they became a mantra until at last he could try and form them on his dry tongue.

"S-s-s-e-e-sen-n-n-t-t-eint Mar-mar-marsh-lan-d-s a-a-and E-e-e-l-l-e-e-e-s-s-e-e-um," the words were stammered and stuttered with such gratefulness, his voice smoother and calmer than when he had begged for information.

The grullo pegasus had stepped closer, standing taller than him and possibly big enough to wrap his wings around the Goblin's frame. Well, partially at least.

"H...h... heal-er?" he choked the word out, finding things more than a single syllable difficult to wrap his mouth around. The word evoked images of herbs, bandages and war wounds. Healers. Physicians. Was he bleeding?

The Goblin threw his head to the side frantically, searching his body for gaping wounds he feared he had. But there were none, simply the spot where his sword gaped from his back and had been pressed through his chest. But there was blood amongst the ancient scarring surrounding the wounds. He pulled together the pieces, the pain he had felt that still lingered.

The shiny had been magic. He could figure that much out. It had pulled him from whatever stupor he had been plunged into, but it had also tried to pull the sword from his body. Only to move it back into place the same instant when it realised it was the sword itself that kept the Goblin in place on the Earth. It kept him alive - without it, he would have died blissfully nine entire centuries ago.

"S-s-sword is... is fine," he hoped the man wouldn't push the issue, but perhaps being taken to a healer wouldn't be so bad. They could assess the issue and come to their own conclusion that yes - the thick, ancient blade was keeping him alive rather than stealing his life away.

Who did this to him? Who did what to him? Who pierced him with his own blade? His closest friend, his second in command - at his own insistence. Who had forced that to happen? The long-dead child King. Who had forced him to walk among the living for nine centuries? God had. Who had pulled him from a wandering coma? Fate. Go. He didn't know. He simply landed a puzzled look at the grullo, muscles still coiled so rigidly they trembled but he still didn't know how to ease them. 

walking like a zombie
OOC| Kyrian xD Poor Kyrian


Lord

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 Adult, 5 yrs  Stallion
 17.2 hh  1800 lbs
152 Posts 2,167.5 points
 Ritsika Offline
Posted on Jan 18 2018, 1:43 AM. (Edited: Jan 18 2018, 1:44 AM by Kyrian. Edit Reason: Forgot to tag Goblin )
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#6

Kyrian

I wear my crown of thorns and pull the knife out my chest ,,

In a painfully dry voice, the stabbed stallion struggled to form words as he simply repeated the names given to him. Neither the calling of the neutral territory they stood in nor the land as a whole appeared to spark recognition in those bottomless black orbs. With the bloodied body standing stock still and coiled tighter than a rattlesnake before him, the pegasus listened while he eyed the stranger warily as his cast his head about in clear distress. The bay was doing remarkably well maintaining his feet, all things considered, but he seemed not to notice the sword. This baffled the winged equine and he was about to mention the obvious when the other male stuttered, unconcerned, about the broad blade piercing his chest.

He must be mad, was the initial thought that blared through the roan’s mind. Perhaps it was the loss of blood that made the wounded stud heedless to the gravity of his wound. It was a mortal blow! The precious metal had struck true through the heart. Then a more rational reasoning popped into the draft’s head: shock. Though he wasn’t skilled in the craft of healing the brute had been raised by a competent curer and recalled the term. Due to brutal trauma, especially in combination with extensive blood loss, an equine could enter a state of shock where the body and mind didn’t synchronize properly anymore. If left untreated this foreigner would perish. The only remedies coming to mind were to treat the obvious wound – which was way out of his caliber – and keep the wounded warm. With winter chilling the air, the dark faced stallion knew that keeping this stranger warm might prove challenging even though they had a well-worn cloak. Shifting closer yet the baroque stud opened his left wing such that the feathered appendage hovered above the back of the other stallion in an attempt to keep whatever heat he produced near to him.

Cloven hooves shifting uneasily, the dusk winged stallion didn’t like the far-off look on the stranger’s face. He could be in deep thought or about to breathe his last breath. The cloaked body was trembling on rooted limbs. He didn’t want to watch this unknown male die. But what more could he do? Desperately, the rogue blurted out "What is your name? Where do you hail from?" Cursing under his breathe because he remembered how sore the lithe stud’s throat sounded he wished he had a drink to offer him, but only the half-frozen muck surrounded them and a sip of that rancid water didn’t sound appealing.

"By the way, I’m Kyrian."

"Your character's speech tags." | | "Your character's thinking tags."
 
OOC | Goblin So concerned that he forgot to introduce himself. He clearly thinks the sword is a huge issue. xD
Words | number


Rogue

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 Adult, 10 yrs  Stallion
 16.3 hh  1300 lbs
14 Posts 0 points
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Posted on Jan 19 2018, 7:57 PM.
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#7



The realisation hit him suddenly. There was blood everywhere. His own blood. He was a horse. It was horse blood. There was horse blood everywhere. Running down his back, dripping from his chest. It soaked through the lace on his cloak, dampening it and sticking it to his body.

His body began to tremble with much more violence. The red head shifted to glance back at his body once again, seeing it all this time. The darkening of his coat with the liquid as it seeped through his hair. He could feel every single drop of it against his skin. Suddenly that haze that hung over his thoughts was back with thicker consistency, but this time it was from terror rather than whatever it had been before. Pure, brilliant horror held him in its grasp.

He watched through wide eyes as the pegasus closed the distance to hover a wing over his back, the warmth of the stranger washing over his body. He simply stared at the man, unable to form any of those new thoughts. It took a few long, stretched out moments before the stallion's words made sense in his head.

"Go-Go... Gob-Lin," the name fumbled from his lips. It wasn't his real name, it was what he had become. But it staggered from his mouth as a reflex, taking the place of the ancient name he had left behind. He hailed from a land that no longer existed, but he said nothing.

Through the tremors of his body, the harsh grip of fear, he heard the man's name. But he couldn't repeat it, couldn't acknowledge it. Not right now. He needed the blood to go away.

walking like a zombie
OOC| Kyrian The sword still isn't an issue xD


Lord

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 Adult, 5 yrs  Stallion
 17.2 hh  1800 lbs
152 Posts 2,167.5 points
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Posted on Jan 22 2018, 12:44 AM.
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#8

Kyrian

I keep searching for something that I never seem to find ,,

Observing that the distant look on the wounded stallion’s face took on a whole new level, growing far more pronounced, Kyrian thought, at first, it was due to his closer proximity. Perhaps the stranger would rather have space during such a crucial moment in life. He knew that he would rather have privacy than the pestering of a stranger. In fact, the roan’s thoughts whirling and producing an idea, the nearness might be exacerbating the shock because it prompted the recollection of the terrible event when the blade had pierced the bay’s chest. From the angle and the thoroughly completed thrust, the grievous strike was likely the result of a close encounter attack. The hilt kissed the chest and the blade was protruding from the back, certainly the blow had not been a sneak attack. However, the perceptive citrine gaze took in the way the slender frame shook with greater intensity and the way the russet skull had shifted to look upon the gruesome sight of his marred flesh. Even if his imminence was bothering the injured stud, the pegasus knew that his warmth would eventually help – or so he hoped – and that shock was simply taking a firmer hold. 

Around them the marsh pressed on in the ever ongoing battle of life, indifferent to the event of these two strangers meeting. Creatures that were not as lucky as those lying dormant skittered across the frozen ground desperate to fill their empty bellies, but they never drew near the pair since the scent of blood hung heavily in the air. Though, eventually a predator would take notice and investigate. The audible crunch of ice breaking and blop of droplets falling from icicles dangling on branches of great heights accompanied the sounds of scavenging wildlife while the pair of stallions stood, captivated by their own thoughts, until he answered one of Kyrian’s questions. The draft shifted his cloven hooves uneasily and, heated by his body, they left thawed prints on the ground. Unintentionally he kicked some of the loose snow over a little bit of the blood splatters.

"Gob-Lin," the brute enunciated, not familiar with the foreign name and thinking it was two parts due to the phonetics spoken by the distressed male. With a respectful dip of his head to the shorter stud he caught sight of white moss growing thickly upon a decaying log. With great care, the resplendently hued wing tucked back to its owner's side. The loner strode forward and reached down to grab a mouthful of the stuff. It was a dense type of moss that was vividly yellow-green with a silvery sheen at the tip of each strand when in its prime. Even with the lackluster coloring and coating of frost, he knew it would work well to soak up excessive amounts of blood and work to clot the wound. Brittle in his mouth, the flora was quick to warm up on his tongue and turn supple as he turned back to Gob-Lin.

Slowly approaching the other male, broadcasting with forward perked ears and wide, soft eyes that he meant no harm, Kyrian stepped hesitantly closer with the bundle of moss gripped in his maw. When he was close enough the draft gingerly dabbed around the point of the blade to absorb the bodily fluids before nestling the clump on the bay’s back near to the withers. The sharp, sickly sweet tang of blood filled his mouth and made his gut clench despite not getting a drop on his tongue. Having to take a moment to look around, liking that he was keeping busy now, the leonine tailed beast trotted toward the next cluster of cushion moss and gathered another mouthful. This time would be trickier he knew as he turned back to the stock-still bloody bay.

It wasn’t that Gob-Lin’s back was clean by any means, but the rogue thought that encouraging the wound to clot was his best option considering the frozen nature of the speared stud. The term shock definitely appeared to fit. Mumbling around his mouthful, Kyrian informed, "I vant to try and stop vhe bveeding of your chest vound." So the black roan persistently kept about his less than qualified attempts at first aid. Roman sloped brow lowered as he angled his mug to tenderly tuck the moss between the blade and the jaggedly lacerated flesh of the warmblood’s chest. The sight of the open wound combined with the overwhelming scent of blood was nauseating but he wouldn't be stopped now. 

"Your character's speech tags." | | "Your character's thinking tags."
 
OOC | Goblin Don't mind my elementary nursing skills. Your wound is just way above my pay grade, signed a nervously laughing Kyrian. 
Words | number


Rogue

Neutral
 Adult, 10 yrs  Stallion
 16.3 hh  1300 lbs
14 Posts 0 points
 Moseley Offline
Posted on Feb 06 2018, 3:57 PM.
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#9



Everything was thrumming tension. Every muscle, every tissue, every cell and every organelle inside those cells was trembling with the fear, the pure and gripping horror he was feeling, stemming from the red dripping from his own body. There was too much of it, just way too much. Oh God, was he about to die? Was he finally - finally - about to drop down dead, here in the middle of some foreign marshland a few hundred years later than the rest of his family? No way, absolutely not. Goblin had been waiting for his death for too long, far too long, but not it seemed to leer down on him he baulked at the idea. Not yet. Not today.

A deep, shuddering breath wracked with panic laiden rattling, was drawn in through his nostrils and forced into his lungs. The stallion's entire body shook with it, and he held the air in place inside his lungs for a few moments before letting it out slowly. Breathing had become extremely difficult all of a sudden. It was as if someone was crushing his lungs in their hands, stopping the air from entering them and instead forcing it out.

Kyrian was butchering his name, but at the moment the Goblin didn't care. He couldn't find it in himself to care, not right now. The pegasus was being good to him, attempting to offer him help despite the fact the sword was obviously freaking the young man out. But Goblin didn't have the capacity to explain it to him right now. Words longer than a single syllable were defeating him.

If he could turn his head to watch the man, he would. But his neck muscles had seized up far too tightly for that right now. Black eyes swivelled in his head to watch pegasus warily. Kyrian turned back to him with a mouthful of white moss, He mumbled words around the plant, to which Goblin forced a shaky, minuscule nod.

"Pl-ea-se... m-m-aaake i-i-it ss-sto...p..."

walking like a zombie
OOC| Kyrian IT'S FINALLY HERE


Lord

Neutral
 Adult, 5 yrs  Stallion
 17.2 hh  1800 lbs
152 Posts 2,167.5 points
 Ritsika Offline
Posted on Feb 07 2018, 6:55 AM. (Edited: Feb 07 2018, 7:20 AM by Camy. Edit Reason: fixing mention for you, was testing! )
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#10

Kyrian

But maybe I won't, because I left it all behind,,

Brittle.

The single word described this moment impeccably. All around the pair were leaves, branches, and grasses encapsulated by a crystalline, shiny layer of ice that turned them brittle. Wintertide made a habit of testing the tenacity and fortitude of nature each cycle. Just as this wound was testing the stranger's will to live. Winter also turned the foliage bitterly cold, much like the chill feeling of the marred flesh of the impaled beast. Where the draft’s nose gently touched as he dabbed the moss on the bay's chest he felt a distinct lack of warmth. This foreigner must be fighting for his life. Repressing a shudder, the roan diligently continued his task with new fervor at the stuttered plea.

The second brittle feature was the emotional state of the two stallions. Each brute was on edge and it stemmed back to the broad sword protruding from Gob-Lin's chest. Kyrian wasn’t an empath but he certainly wasn’t blind. He noticed the way Gob-Lin looked near frightened to death, as if suddenly realizing the gravity of his wound. If a stray cry burst from the mire, they might both faint from the tension. To distract the newcomer, Kyrian inquired, "What are you doing in the marsh? Have you any plans?" Having absorbed as much blood as he could with the bundle in his mouth, the rogue turned to deposit the soiled clump out of sight. Then he retrieved another mouthful of moss. Thankful for the plant’s absorbent nature, using it to his advantage, he was able to blot at the trickle of blood and clot a bit of the flow. 

But the wound was impressive and disturbing all at once. The dusk winged equine was astonished that the lithe stallion remained on all four hooves and he wanted to keep it that way.

Stepping back to observe the wound, onyx ears flattened when a hindhoof stepped on a brittle object and a distinct crunch reached his ears. Citrine orbs flashed bright yellow at the distraction. Turing to look at what he had trod on, Kyrian noticed the remnants of a glass jar. The pieces littered the ground and he lifted his cloven hoof away from the scattered shards. Whatever it had held was long gone for nothing stained the ground. "I think I’ve stopped the bleeding," he rumbled while turning back to face Gob-Lin. "Though I would recommend finding a healer. I can refer you to one, or get her out here, if you would like." It was quite the journey so perhaps he would fly to retrieve the healer, if Gob-Lin wanted one. If he didn't want one, Kyrian wasn't sure he was steady enough to continue watching the mortally wounded stallion. 

"Your character's speech tags." | | "Your character's thinking tags."
 
OOC |   @[Goblin]


Rogue

Neutral
 Adult, 10 yrs  Stallion
 16.3 hh  1300 lbs
14 Posts 0 points
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Posted on Feb 08 2018, 6:35 PM.
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#11



What... what was he doing here? He didn't know. Goblin didn't know anything. He couldn't remember leaving his homeland, couldn't remember getting here. Hell, he couldn't even remember picking up the language but there it was, fluent on the tip of his tongue. What else was there he didn't know?

"Don't... know," the words were less stuttery but instead short and forced with a long pause in between. Speaking was difficult, but the short wors were becoming easier. Well, as easy as they could be through a tensed jaw. But his body wouldn't relax, it was like his limbs were locked into place, each muscle and nerve trapped in a rigour mortis like state. His heart may not be beating, but he was sure as hell breathing. He wasn't dead yet.

The tingle of moss pressing into his wounds stung, but he didn't flinch. There was pain enough throughout his entire body that the little extra sting meant nothing. Goblin just kept his mind on breathing, keeping himself anchored.

The crushing of glass beneath Kyrian's hoof startled him from the stupor, blood bay frame jerking away without his consent. But he then released a shaky breath of relief when the pegasus announced he'd stopped the bleeding. Thank the heavens - although residue still clung to his body and saturated the delicate material of his cloak. Hell, where had he even gotten the cloak?

A healer was sounding even better now. He wasn't so sure he could voluntarily move any part of his body anymore. That, and he was thrumming with exhaustion. He was strained, both mentally and physically, yet he couldn't relax. His mind and his body would not be soothed, and the Goblin had not a clue what to do with that.

"He-heal-er... yes... pl-pl-please..." his words sounded pathetic and weak, tired and drained.

walking like a zombie
OOC| Kyrian x'D I don't think Goblin's helping with the whole 'I'm not actually dying' thing


Lord

Neutral
 Adult, 5 yrs  Stallion
 17.2 hh  1800 lbs
152 Posts 2,167.5 points
 Ritsika Offline
Posted on Feb 12 2018, 8:54 PM.
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#12

Kyrian

Now I'm stuck with this, and that'll never change,,

The impaled bay appeared to be waning. Fatigue etched lines around his bottomless black eyes and strain wrinkled his tightly clenched jaw. With a prolonged pause separating them, Gob-Lin’s two word answer did not come as a surprise to the roan while he worked at cleaning up the blood. Each shuddering breath from the lithe stud was a small joy to Kyrian as the expanding and contracting meant another moment of life, a chance at surviving longer despite the odds. Having a broadsword piercing vital organs did not bode well for the living.

It was both unnerving and a relief to the rogue that this stranger was still standing and a brief wondering had Kyrian idly considering if the land of Elysium was fueling Gob-Lin’s body to retain his soul or if something else was at play. Whatever the reason, the baroque stallion dismissed further musing to focus on the here and now. To consider the best course of action that would come next.

When his hoof crushed the already broken glass the blood bay brute jerked, though he remained on all four legs - thankfully. "Fear not, I’m not leaving for long," Kyrian informed in a confident, reassuring tone, "I will be back quickly." With a last glance to put himself at ease that Gob-Lin wouldn’t fail while he was gone for a moment, the robust pegasus pivoted on his haunches and trotted a little ways through the brush until he came to a position will less tree coverage.

A stagnant, frozen pond edged with decaying cattails and dormant cypress trees gave enough room for the winged equine to spread his feathered appendages wide and, with an impressive display of strength and agility, he took flight by slowly rearing up then launching into the air. Vertical take-offs took considerable amounts of energy and required years of practice, which the dusk winged stud often dedicated himself to.

Once above the treetops, the pegasus beat at the brisk air to maintain a hover while scanning the immediate area for a distinguishable landmark so that the healer could find them. Citrine eyes narrowed upon realizing that the pond he was flying above was nearly perfectly circular and had no connection to any nearby streams, which left it unique compared to the oblong or rivulet fed pools dotting the vast foliage. Reaching inward to the spark of energy concentrated at the back of his mind, Kyrian broadcast to the healer he was most familiar with and considered skilled enough for this situation by imagining her steady amethyst gaze, the blaze of white marking her from brow to nose, her teal coat, and the splendor of her rainbow hued wings. He felt the connection establish. Imagining a whisper thin cord stretching across the distance separating them even though no physical indication presented itself, the rogue knew he had little time to relay the importance of the message so he spoke clearly, quickly, and firmly, "Shakaya, you are need in the Sentient Marshlands. I’ve found a grievously injured stallion. Bring something to stop the bleeding of a large wound. We are located in the southwest region by a circular pond that can be seen from above." The metaphysical bond trembled under the stain and he nearly dropped the bridge but something urged him to add, "Perhaps something to sooth rattled nerves too."

Like a spider’s web snapping under the pressure of morning dew the loner felt his magic reserves empty and the bond broke. He wasn’t certain if the last portion of his message had successfully made it to Shakaya, but he had tried. A flick of his feather-tipped tail was all it took to arch back and downward to where he had taken off. Cloven hooves gouged into the frozen bank before kicking up sod as he loped back to Gob-Lin. All they could do now was wait. Even though the fae was winged, it might still be a long while before she came. If she comes at all, he thought uneasily. 

"Your character's speech tags." | | "Your character's thinking tags."
 
OOC | Goblin Shakaya


Queen

Neutral
 Adult, 5 yrs  Mare
 15.2 hh  800 lbs
56 Posts 265 points
 Serinidia Offline
Posted on Mar 03 2018, 2:57 AM.
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#13

Shakaya



Magic, the realization of what had interrupted her snooping did little to soothe the pounding of the healer's heart and her wings fidgeted nervously. Her ears were quick to swivel forward at the sound of Kyrian's voice and drank in every word. Grievously injured? She wasn't anywhere near the stash of ingredients that would be needed in order to heal something that serious and it sent a pang of worry through her. I'm coming, she wanted desperately to tell her friend that she had heard his request and cursed her own tentative grasp on magic. Her companion was already moving, paws grabbing and tucking away the pieces of evidence that they had come for. There was a squeak as Yiteri settled on her back and wound her fingers through the violet mane, a small signal that she was situated. Shakaya snorted softly in reply before her hooves started to pound against the dirt and her wings expanded to catch the air and she hesitated only a moment before launching herself up. The living must always take priority over the dead, the dark thought lingered as she glided away from the lair. Always

You are needed in the Sentient Marshlands, the information looped through her mind as she began to approach the designated area with a frown. The marsh was a large place and Kyrian's instructions hadn't narrowed down the various places that he could be. How much time do I have left? Worry was quick to lace her thoughts as she angled down and started to hover a tree length above the marsh. The flight had taken her over an hour despite the strong wingbeats that had propelled her over various terrain and she shuddered to think of how much longer it would have taken her without them. Yiteri had fallen asleep during the journey, small frame wrapped securely in tendrils of the violet mane, and was only just beginning to stir. The pair often stayed silent when in the air, words hard to hear as the wind snatched them away. 

There, the two stallions had been much easier to find than anticipated and the healer wasted little time with her landing. Golden hooves struck the bog with a hard impact and Shakaya stumbled forward ungracefully before throwing a sheepish grin in Kyrian's direction. Her expression was quick tp somber though as she took in the scene before her. The unknown stallion in front of her ought to be dead and her head tilted as she studied the angle of his wound. "How long has he been like this?" The question was fired rather rapidly as she moved closer and Yiteri started to untangle herself. Traces of moss still clung to the torn flesh and her eyes brightened as she realized why it had been applied. "Well done Kyrian," the compliment was murmured just loudly enough for her friend to hear.

Her wings started to stretch out as her companion began to loosen the leaf satchels and allow them to drop to the ground. "Cayenne, chamomile, and clover paste." A quick glance to the side was all she needed to see that Yiteri was already reaching for the paste. The Carinae healer turned to face the stranger once more, "This will help numb the pain." Her voice was soft as her eyes narrowed and a leaf dipped itself in the paste before rising to hover in front of the stricken stud. "It will hurt at first," the words were meant to distract and nothing more as the leaf pressed against the wound before she finished. "Sorry, unexpected is always better."  

Small paws fiddled with something by her hoof and she nodded, "Yes, witch hazel too. Kyrian, could you be a dear and chew this shrub to a pulp? I'd have it pre-made but... I've been busy." Her tone turned clipped at the end as she moved a different leaf toward her friend. "If you can, spit it on that leaf."





Word Count: 660
OOC| Not much has been said to Goblin because I figured he'd be super out of it by the time she arrived. If you guys need anthing changed please let me know.


Rogue

Neutral
 Adult, 10 yrs  Stallion
 16.3 hh  1300 lbs
14 Posts 0 points
 Moseley Offline
Posted on Mar 08 2018, 7:12 PM.
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#14



Things were getting harder and harder to register. It was, at this point, a miracle he was still stood. He hadn't blinked it what was probably much too long but his black eyes just would not close. His overly strained mind barely registered Kyrian's words, only really inferring 'leaving', 'long' and 'back' despite clearly picking up the whole sentence. Then the grey was gone, leaving the Golbin to the mercy of his own shudderings and slowly collapsing mind.

Or had it already collapsed, and the struts now in place to hold the structure up were the start of something new. That sounded more hopeful, but not very likely. Whatever had he done to deserve something new - a third chance, if one were to believe it. The Goblin most certainly didn't.

Kyrian was back not long after that, but his brain moved so slowly right now the exact passage of time was almost impossible for him to judge. He centred his very existence on his breathing, forcing air in through flared nostrils and out again with a great amount of force. The breaths were slow and deep, but they came in an uneven pattern. There would be a long pause between one exhale and the next inhale whilst the Goblin tried to make his body cooperate through the shock.

Then there was a mare, blue and also winged. She seemed to know what she was doing with something, taking charge the second she'd arrived. She had taken a single glance towards the torn flesh around the hilt of his sword, and stepped into action. The Goblin briefly had the wonder if she would notice the old scarring beneath the bloodied mess that Kyrian had not. It had been centuries, after all, since the blade had been put through his heart.

It had been shifted, though, and that had made his body bleed everywhere in mighty volumes. It was his head, however, he really needed help soothing. His tongue was heavy and deadened, his vocals lost and stiffened through what he could only guess was many years of unuse. The Goblin had awoken from a walking comatose state, and he didn't know how to deal with anything. So he'd just shut down.

There was a press of herb into his wounds, but it barely registered. The Goblin found himself just watching, listening to the sounds of their voices and hoping he could find some way of regaining control of his own body before it wore itself down in the middle of this godforsaken marsh.

walking like a zombie
OOC| Kyrian Shakaya He so shook


Lord

Neutral
 Adult, 5 yrs  Stallion
 17.2 hh  1800 lbs
152 Posts 2,167.5 points
 Ritsika Offline
Posted on Mar 08 2018, 10:43 PM.
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#15

Kyrian

Always a part of me, until the very last day,,

The draft was standing still as a shadow with his skull tipped back to watch the sky. He felt that, if she did come, Shakaya would come from above. After all, his guidance to their position had been described from the sky. Periodically he would glance down to check on Gob-Lin. Thankful to see that the stallion was still breathing and standing, despite looking deeper in shock than before, in which case the roan’s eyes would narrow with concern and cast skyward once more. Citrine eyes flash with such stark relief that it suffused all of his features when Kyrian saw rainbow hued feathers flap above the canopy. The sight was more beautiful than a true rainbow after a week of rain.

Overwhelmed with relief that she was here in time, the rogue didn’t fully comprehend the meaning of the small grin cast his direction but smoothly fell into step beside her. The firmness of her voice instilled the necessary strength to allow him to settle his nerves as he tried to answer her question, "I found him like this when the sun was directly above us." It felt like forever between now and that first moment, yet it also felt like seconds. The brute wasn’t sure which was closer to the truth.

He shifted a tad uncomfortably at the compliment given because of his rudimentary first aid but didn’t say anything to rebuke her. The loner wished he could have done more but his lack of knowledge left him helpless, a feeling he didn’t enjoy. He simply wanted this foreigner to recover, if that was possible, and for that to happen Shakaya needed to have space to focus on her task. At least, that’s what the dusk winged pegasus thought she might need. He wasn’t sure of anything at the moment.

Attentively, the bulky stallion watched her work. He was ready to assist such the need arise. In fact, he was restless to help. Standing by idly was unsettling. Sable ears perked forward at the sight of a leaf, laden with paste, levitating to plaster against a wound. This was a small detail that he would have to consider later when the circumstances weren’t so dreadful.

Without hesitation, he nimbly picked up the witch hazel and began to chew. The cadence of her words piqued his interest but, again, now wasn’t the time for a full discussion so, begrudgingly, he let it slide as if he didn’t notice. The stud was careful not to swallow any of the plant or his saliva while he ground the substance to a pulp. Only when he was satisfied that he had thoroughly demolished the witch hazel did he aim to spit as much as he could directly onto the presented leaf, a little did dribble off the side, but Kyrian had been mostly successful in his attempt.

Gob-Lin seemed to have gone into the silent phase of shock. His ribs shuddering when he remembered to inhale and exhale, his bottomless black eyes staring sightlessly into the distance, mute to the ministrations happening. Kyrian wondered if they were trying in vain. He kept this thought to himself. With careful consideration, he did whisper to Shakaya, "How is he still standing?"

"Your character's speech tags." | | "Your character's thinking tags."
 
OOC | Shakaya Goblin





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