Deer pawed away remnants of the passing of winter; searching for the timid seedlings birthed by the fresh coming season. Erum shrugged off the drowsiness that lounged across his shoulders like an indolent house cat. The stallion paused to run benevolent eye over the foraging deer. Some would calve soon.
He did not remember the last time that he had slept well; to do so he would have to go back to a place only within reach through the passage of memory, to friends only to be found in the fog of fond remembrance.
Only a weary doe lifted eye at the stallion's lingering presence.
Quietly Erum trod on.
The forest would recognize his footstep long before the sound of his voice.
He mulled over his position. A warrior of Denocte. His was a life supposedly pledged to those he neither knew nor trusted; to those that knew not of him. From deeper in the wood, a bird called to the rest of their flock with song. Erum listened as the others responded in chorus.
Traveling such a distance from his native land had weakened his magic. It was reduced to a faint throb. Diminished to a yearning that set root in his breast, and unfurled throughout his entire being. He was caught in-between; no longer able to join the beasts and unsure of how to return to living alongside those of his own kind.
Solitude wore upon him. It affected Erum in a gradual manner; in such subtle way as to leave him unsure of why it was that he stayed in Denocte. Leaving the cover of the forest Erum made way to the lake. Many times had others traveled through this land. Erum had been shadow to the passerby that caught his interest. He had followed them. He watched the kinship that they shared with one another. Where their shoulders brushed against the warmth of another his brushed against the familiarity of nature; against the steady stance of the trees.
Erum waded into the cleansing water. Dirt was lifted from his body by the soft current. I still protect. He was a warrior for Denocte. A kingdom is more than its people.
It was the delicate saplings that pushed through the firm ground.
The cascading song of the birds.
It was the deer and the young that they would birth.
It was the mountains that cradled the valleys and the rivers that cleansed.
Erum was guardian to Denocte's wildlife.
It was to the land that he had pledged himself.
The return of his consciousness is as slow as its departure had been swift.
At first it is much like dreaming. Hazy warm darkness with soft fingers of light filtering through. He is caught up then in a memory: salt on his tongue, safe under the waves, diving for oysters in the faint hopes of finding a pearl. It is weightless in the water, the current a cradle; there is little he loves so much as looking up through those slanting shades of blue.
But there is no staying below forever. Eventually his lungs begin to burn, to beg. Eventually he surfaces.
Lysander’s confusion continues once his green eyes blink hazily open. Or, rather, one eye; the other is swollen shut, the socket and his cheekbone throbbing dully. The other focuses on gray stone walls striped with shadow and he wonders when did I come home? It isn’t until he tries to reach for his injured eye that he realizes – that he remembers.
When his lips move to grin it’s a grimace they form instead, as his mind finally receives the pain signals his body has been ceaselessly sending. Slowly, slowly, he tests his lungs, pulling in a deep breath. He never finishes it; a different hurt stops him, sharp and silver as a knife. The pain makes him gasp.
No longer does he feel like that sun-golden boy diving for pearls. He feels instead like a fish flayed open.
He wonders if he should feel grateful to be opening his eyes at all.
It is that thought, as though it has unlatched some door hidden and waiting in the dim recesses of his heart, that lets in the first cold touch of fear.
Intellectual tastes still tantalized by the goddess Caligo after speaking with Aislinn, Eidolon found himself so much more intrigued. There was this desperate need to know everything he could, and while the questions he had gotten answers to thus far had been more than he expected to get, there was always more. More than be told about these things, he wanted to experience it in some way. From what he had learned, there was a shrine that would be his best bet. It was a ways to travel unfortunately, but not far enough to deter Eidolon from heading that way regardless. He had been given some instruction on how to get there but not detailed enough it seemed.
Huffing in frustration, the large stallion stamped a hoof and looked around. He couldn’t be certain, but he would swear he had been in this exact spot earlier that day. By now he should have been at the shrine. As it was the midday sun in such a high altitude was beating down on him; eyes delicate to its harsh rays with only the gossamer protection of his eyelashes to shield them. Even now he could feel the sweat building in every crevice. Uncomfortable, and annoyed to say the least, he squinted for any hint of where he should be going.
Frustratingly, however, he had no clue where he was going. Staying still wasn’t that great an option either. There was always flight, but he had exercised his wings quite enough already and thought it best to hold that last burst of it for when things got any worse. Until then he endeavored to travel further up the mountain by way of the path to the right. A stubborn arrogance was beginning to overcome him. He refused to give up and head back now, he had to see this shrine.
Lead by Ulric, Dawn Court Warden. If you would like to volunteer to participate in a patrol, please contact Ulric or post below!
Volunteers are paired into groups to partake in patrols within their assigned locations of Delumine. (The Library, Rapax River, Illuster Meadow, Viride Forest, and the Dawn Court). Anyone can volunteer, no matter their rank. The amount of people within one group depends on the amount of volunteers, as well as how many locations will be patrolled each season.
“What is the point of the patrol?”
Good question! The overall focus on these Patrols is to keep Delumine safe. While a peaceful province devoted to the power of knowledge, creatures of all kinds are welcome to visit as they please. As such, it does open up our borders for nefarious behavior or ill-intent. Each group will be assigned to one of Delumine’s lands, and will patrol the area for any suspicious activity or general mischief.
“What’s in it for me?”
Other than the satisfaction of ensuring that Delumine is safe? Should every patrolling member meet the requirements listed below, they are entitled to a reward once you return to the Dawn Court! Rewards are subject to change per season, and can only be handed out by the Regime.
-Have a minimum of four posts each
-Actively and eagerly participate in the patrol thread
-Thread is finished before the end of the season
Not only will you gain Signos for thread completion requirements, but an additional 50 Signos will be handed out to those who complete their Patrols!
“How often can I participate in a Patrol?”
The Regime and Warden encourage everyone to participate every season, but it isn’t mandatory! This is a seasonal event meant to boost Court morale, have fun, and encourage activity, all while keeping Delumine safe.
“What if one of my Patrol partners isn’t responding/MIA?”
We understand that people get busy, but as this is a seasonal ‘event’, we would like to have threads finished in a timely manner. As such, people are given three days to respond to their Patrol thread. Should they fail to respond within those three days, they will be skipped over, but are free to jump back in whenever they wish.
In the case that it happens in a thread of only two people please contact one of your Regime! We will gladly work something out!
Characters who fail to respond to their patrol threads are not eligible to partake in the next seasonal slot, and must wait one season before volunteering again.
The Process
The first five days of each season are for volunteering. Please contact Ulric if you would like to participate! Assigned groups will be posted on day six, and threads can immediately begin! Groups have all season to complete their threads.
Summer Patrol
(Below is an example that will be replaced come summer)
Volunteers: (Day 1-5)
-Ulric
-Apollo
-Somnus
-Eulalie
-Messalina
-Aion
Groups: (Day 6)
-Ulric and Eulalie (Rapax River)
-Somnus and Messalina (Illuster Meadow)
-Apollo and Aion (Viride Forest)
Once the groups are posted, threads may begin! *Some groups may have uneven numbers due to the number of volunteers*
If there are any questions, do not hesitate to ask Ulric or a member of the Regime!
In the short time Eidolon had begun acquainting himself with the locals and the hierarchy that seemed to be in place, he had discovered who the few were that were more or less in charge. It was a difficult process to get used to an entirely new set of rules, but he was finding the work amusing and a great deal interesting. He would never have thought so much personality could be displayed in one person but low and behold. Those he passed were full of life and color. Better yet, they even seemed mildly interested in him. While he would have loved to drone on about his past and the circumstances that lead up to being here, he thought it better to perhaps not speak of it. From what he gathered, arriving how he did was not a usual happenstance. While he doubted they would think too much ill of him for it, he also doubted they would believe him. How exactly did one go about proving prior divinity without a lick of proof? So for all intents and purposes, he had lived a sheltered life until then. One that kept him secluded and untrained in the ways of his court; something that was at least partially true. With that he got fewer strange looks when he asked questions most would think everyone should know.
One burning question stayed in his mind though. Over and over in whispers or casual chatter amongst friends he had caught glimpses of a name: Caligo. From what he had gathered she was this court's deity and she ruled the night. Unendingly curious he wondered who she really was, what she was about, how the deities of this land interacted with those that worshipped them. So many questions, but who to ask?
There were so few he was acquainted with as it was. No one he outright trusted or felt at ease with, but, he had heard of someone that would know the answers he sought. She was called Aislinn. Everything he had heard of her was very telling of her character: fiery, devout, and loyal among other things. A whirlwind of a mare as wild as lightning but hopelessly empathic. That was who Eidolon found himself seeking out now. To say he was nervous was an understatement, but his stubbornness had won out. He had to know. So he found himself walking the streets of this kingdom; hooves clicking loudly against the earth on the lookout for the stormbringer with constellations on her neck. It took a long while, but after some time he thought he could see her just ahead, and found himself calling out before really thinking about how to approach her, "I don't suppose you're Aislinn? He trotted forward a bit quicker, hoping his voice was enough to get her attention, "Did you have a few moments to spare?"
It was funny really, how quickly things could change in an instant.
This morning he had awoken peacefully in western Novus, surrounded by lilacs and baby’s breath, the sun warm and gentle. Hours later he had fought a smiling she-wolf by the name of Liesel in the Bellum Steppe, tending to both she and himself after.
Now he was surrounded by the carnage of a Solterran raid, walking past the bodies stacked unceremoniously by the city walls.
Aion was no stranger to the darker side of life, to betrayal and drugs and fighting. His best friends had been of that scene once upon a time. But this—nothing came close to this. He had never experienced war firsthand—hoof?—before, and it shocked him to his core.
Not that he would show it. His blue eyes were as guarded as always, almost appearing bored—his blackened lips turned downwards in an ever-present scowl. To anyone who didn’t know him—and that number was many—it might look as if he resented the Davke simply because it gave him more patients to attend to: ’How dare they make more work for me…’
But in actuality, this was far from the truth.
He didn’t care whether he treated Davke or Solterran. A patient was a patient was a patient, and in his eyes they were all equally wretched and worth saving. He was, after all, the worst of them: and still he had been saved, given a new name and a new purpose, strengthened by new life. He would be repaying this debt forever.
’Starting with this poor soul.’
A spear rose out of the side of a horse sprawled upon the ground. They were covered in sand, the dust clinging to their sweat-soaked body, fresh blood running in streams away from the wound, carving tracks through the sand. Aion crept closer, dropping to his knees beside them. Pain-filled eyes rolled back to look at him, breath coming in gasps and gurgles.
“You’re lucky,” Aion began, surveying the damage. Of course, he doubted this fellow agreed with him. “The spear missed your heart. Otherwise you would be dead already.” He grasped the shaft carefully with his telekinesis—not to pull, but to stabilize.
“Of course, this is still going to hurt.” At least no one could fault him for being honest.
@Cyrene in case you want to pop her in! But open to anyone to jump in ;u;
”are you still talking?”
Sighing, Messalina blew a strand of ice-blonde hair from her eyes (how had it escaped from her carefully woven plaits already?) as she pondered the places the newly ascended Regent would go.
Somewhere well secluded, perhaps? She suspected that Ipomoea would seek the quiet after it all – the moment the meeting had adjourned, the new regime had been swarmed by a mob of eager citizens and fussy nobles alike, all vying for a chance to voice the thoughts they hadn’t already expressed.
She, on the other hand, had kept to the fringes of the jostling crowd as always. Fighting for an audience with the Sovereign and his Regent was a battle she’d wished to avoid. Though Messa was far from meek – 'submissive' was not a quality Mother had thought favorable, ironically – the slender dancer was soft spoken by nature and much preferred to keep her nose out of troubling affairs.
And as it turned out, she hadn’t needed to. For Somnus had come to her.
Even now, Messalina still found herself wondering whether the encounter had even happened. To say that she was shocked when the emerald-eyed King had offered her a position as Champion of Wisdom, his voice just as lilting as she remembered, would be a drastic understatement. After an unbecoming moment of silence, the pale-haired girl had recovered enough to accept the Sovereign's proposition with a smile and a graceful curtsy – what horrid manners to keep a King waiting – but in truth, her mind was reeling. Why her, and not one of the many accomplished sages who called Delumine’s libraries home?
She still could not make sense of it at all. And it was that very confusion that brought her thoughts full-circle, back to her original purpose – seeking out the flower-wreathed Regent. Besides congratulating him on his ascension, perhaps he would know what to make of her new role.
The citadel was eerily empty. Most of its inhabitants were still in the willow-shaded courtyard, no doubt offering their gushing congratulations as they attempted to sway Somnus into appointing them a position at court. Messa’s admiration of her king’s bottomless patience grew by the hour.
Down she walked, corridor after empty corridor. Her neck was beginning to stiffen from peeking into every room she passed. “But hopefully I will find him,” she sighed, cerulean eyes roving over every shadowy corner with haste, “before someone else reaches him first.”
Stimulated by a renewed sense of urgency, a sudden realization hit her square in the head. The one place she hadn't checked: the gardens. It was at the other end of the castle, and she wanted to pinch herself for not thinking of it sooner. If there was any place the Regent would go to for a moment of peace, it would be among the flowers he cherished so much.
Swiftly, she broke into a trot (no one was here to see) as she wound her way to the sprawling gardens nestled along the back of the castle grounds. She burst through the heavy iron gates wholly out of breath, strands of ivory curls flying like silk ribbons in the breeze.
Yet before she could catch her breath, a rare laugh bubbled from smiling lips when she found him there, among the roses.
“Ipomoea!" Cerulean eyes settled softly into pools of gentle carmine. Like they were home. "I've found you."
eyes so blue, I drown.
@Ipomoea
observe messa's 180 degree change in personality around po ;D
Upon her many strolls along the lake, she came across mint. Bunches of mint that she happily gathered and tied by string, tossing the long strand (tied on either end with the herbs) against her back. In time they would dry, and she could preserve them better. They made for a nice and humble tea, soothing. In her homeland, they rarely came across the stuff. Since it preferred the wetlands, marshes and lakes. There were only a few that she recalled from her past. But like any watering hole, any body of water attracted all sorts of folk and beast. It was rarely calm, and fraught with danger.
She waded in the water along the shore. Two strands dangled from her back, having spent most of the day moving in and out of the water. Grabbing mouthfuls near the earth. It grew like weeds, these things; she felt no need to impart a cautious stance – confident that they would grow once more into batches, upon batches of mint in the next spring. With the sun to her back, the work was pleasant. It was simple, meager work; not especially challenging or physically draining.
Vaella stopped to pause, clouds on the horizon appeared. Blotting the pleasant sun, graying the sky. And yet the forest surrounding the lake mesmerized her; its vibrant colors showered the shores with all sorts of greens and peachy oranges.
For now all seemed pleasant, content. The birds murmured from within the trees. Rodents and smaller creatures prepared for mating season. It wasn’t as stale as Vaella would have thought it would be. It was rather homely, this place and the beginnings of spring always comforted her.
There are lights, and soft music. And little treats laid out carefully on tables, enough to snack on but not enough to fill the stomach. There are goblets of fine wine or juice, tempting but mild, not enough to spur anyone to drunken rage. Decorations of silver and white, bedecked with simple flowers, have been hung all over the streets of Denocte.
The cream and purple hued woman seems to fit right in with the purity of the setting. Her long mane braided over her right shoulder and still decked in the pretty jewels from her homeland, various amethysts and sapphires embedded throughout. And yet, yellow eyes are brave, taunting. She carries herself like an ethereal being. An angel in disguise.
It has only been a few days since she entered these lands in search of her cousin Isorath, only days before she met and spoke with him prior. Yet she felt at home here regardless, taking note of the natives and their way of doing things. In a small way..Denocte reminded her of Vectaeryn. The cloaks of shadow and the free way the people danced and celebrated out in the streets. It brought a smile to the princess's lips as she moved down the street, listening and humming softly to the music.
Cute and tiny quote
try to make the text
match up at the ends
so it forms a nice box
Hey.. Hey.. h e y HEY!!
What
You fell asleep again.
Oh… Oh well.. Jude lifts his head and then opens his eyes. It is a reckless move to so casually plant himself in any old bush but he’s become too comfortable. Journeying is familiar at this point and he knows his familiar can at the very least let him know if unsavory company came by. He gives a slow exhale and then pushes himself up to his feet, briefly adjusting the flowers in his hair back into place. He had carefully braided his mane and looped his roses through the braid, forskaing his crown only for a day.
It is best he begin the long, worthless trek back to Dusk. He’ll rest in the court and gather his thoughts before deciding his next course of action. Likely find a place to settle for a time, maybe even plant flowers.. Spring is upon him and Jude misses the careful attention that his flowers called for.
”I think I miss the koi pond most” Jude looks down at Mittens as the cat struts along with him. He knows it will only be a matter of time before she clambers onto his back. ”The soft ripples always offered a comfort.. Even if you and the others were always trying to eat my fish.”
Not our fault you put food right in front of us,” Mittens says and lifted her face to sniff the air. ”Something isn’t right…” She looks around and Jude stops in his tracks. His ears move about rapidly and his eyes begin to scour the area frantically to seek out the form that his bonded has perceived a threat.
