So this was a place called the Dawn Court, in lands known as Novus, with deities that pocketed shrines everywhere. One for each court, he had been told, and the father of them all, Tempus. Certainly it was different from his own belief system; he'd never really heard of deities that looked over the lands. It was a new concept, and one that he was attempting to understand. From someone that had come from a logical place, it seemed more fairytale-ish than anything, and didn't seem to make any sense.
Perhaps he would have to scrounge up some proof somewhere, potentially. See if he could find something that would sway his beliefs in the logical and the rest of the world.
Granted, it was likely that deities existed, and if they did, maybe it was only here. Back where he had come from, such things did not exist, but as he had wandered through the lands after, he had seen a great many things and saw some in prayer and some use magic. Things he did not quite grasp himself, but hungered to know about. Perhaps it was all in the religions, the deities, the prayers. Maybe things didn't have to make sense to him to be real.
Shaking his head, Orion lowered it, sipping on a mouthful of water and allowing himself to relax, wavy curls of white cascading over his neck and head, some stray locks dipping in to the water beside scarred lips.
@Ipomoea || give him some sunshine and love po ;o;
All lands were different, of course, but there was something about these that sprung hope somewhere deep down in the man's chest, caused it to bloom as he inhaled slowly and turned his head, focusing milky looking eyes on the structure before him. It reminded him of home, in some small way, though it lacked the terror and the scent of smoke. It was warm and forgiving here, something he had long searched for over time, since he was a young boy.
Echoes of the past still chased him, even here, but he steered himself forward despite it, his horned head lifting as he walked carefully and heard the fall of his hooves on every step. Clip, clop, clip, clop. The sounds calmed him as it formed a rhythm, and his head lifted more, a confidence rising in his chest, settling in and warming him. It'd been a long time since Orion felt so much comfort, and he could only hope that perhaps there was a place for him here.
A few more steps, and he found himself inside the walls, leaving a gate behind him as he walked and drew in breaths. It was... well. He wasn't jittery surrounded by the stone as he thought he would be, and his ears swiveled forward, his eyes softening and his scarred lips twitching in to a smile.
Yes. Perhaps this could be home, a new home, a new allegiance.
@Somnus || eee first post with him, don't mind the rust
This wasn't the first time he had wandered from home without his brother or mother, but it is the first time he's wandered so far from home. It isn't as if it's a bad thing, he's two and he has his wits about him, he'd finally grown in to his legs, in to his body. Of course, he'd grow a little taller but at the moment, he was mostly filled out, enough to tower over his mother a good chunk of the time and have to lean down to nuzzle her properly.
Honestly, he'd been curious about this place ever since he had met Isorath, and he found himself meandering about Denocte, until he finally kicked himself in the rear and decided to come out here. The Dusk Court. The kirin had told him about it -- he glanced about, wondering if Isorath was around -- and it was a beautiful place, he found. There was a sense of peace here, and the eyes of the locals didn't sear in to him like those in his homeland. They were curious, but not accusing of him, of his heritage.
It felt good to wander about a place with others, where they wouldn't glare or hiss between their teeth on his 'foul' heritage. It felt good, too, to be somewhere and feel free for once.
Healing had taken a long while, and she still bore faint scars under a speckled coat. Araxes at least now walked without a limp to her step, and her mane was at last braided again, her tail knot free and dragging behind her. After so many weeks cooped up in the Court itself, it was good to step outside the doors and breathe in the fresh air once more, to step down in to the courtyards, the markets, among the others of Denocte. She was healed at last from her wounds, and it felt good to move around again and find friendly faces.
Much had happened, she knew, since her injuries had been sustained. The Day Court had lost their leader, the one that had stirred the pot in the beginning and formed such tensions between the two. Not only that, but it seemed there was much happening with Reich and the Dusk Court as well. It seemed the air was rife with tensions of a different sort, thick here and there, bringing with them the stench of drama.
Ara was simply glad to be away from such things, to carefully pick her way through the Night Court market and find herself at a courtyard with blossoms and herbs. A wonderful place to be this fine day, to allow herself to simply bask in the sun and the scents around her.
Acton blew a frustrated breath through his teeth, stirring the wild tangles of his forelock that draped across his eyes, down the black mask along his nose. It had been a long while since he’d worked at a new card trick – his attention had been focused on…other things. Bloodier things.
And now he was out of practice.
After a few more tries that kept turning up the wrong card – the queen of hearts when he’d wanted spades, or a two in place of an ace – he set down the deck with a thwack. The buckskin stretched, glancing as he did so out the window, where weak spring sunlight tried to coax growing things from dark soil.
Caligo bless the arrival of warmer weather. But he wondered (not with worry; Acton was not a fretful nor guilty creature) just what skeletons the melting snows might reveal. He’d usually been able to slip away from punishment like the magician he was, but rarely had it not come for him at all.
A gathering in the courtyard caught his eye, beyond the usual rag-tag symphony of life in Denocte. He recognized a few of the horses from the Dawn Court festival, back before the snows, and a smile creased his dark mouth. He’d heard that they were coming, Oriens’ merry group of mediators, and though he scoffed at the idea of it (and the need; they could solve their own problems, they always had) he was curious as to just what they knew.
Like a swaggering shadow he breezed down the corridors, intending to join a few of his fellows in the courtyard, but in the yawning mouth of the entry hall a sheen of silver caught his eye. Acton tilted his head toward the stranger, finding eyes are fire-bright as his own, a spark waiting for powder. The eye he ran deftly over her was practiced but not unimpressed. Her coat, when it caught the sunlight that slanted in through wide doors slung open to welcome the spring, reminded him of the harbor he’d grown up alongside, white sails and the shimmer on the water, sailors with colorful curses who were happy to teach.
Luckily he did not think she would be altogether much like the sea: she did not look like she smelled of fish.
It was a thought verified when he crossed to her, heedless of anyone she was with. Instead, there was something warm and sweet about the scent of her, something like summer. He didn’t have to fake the grin he wore.
“Are you one of the Dawn peacemakers, come to tell us to behave?” His tone was not outright mocking, though there was a laugh in it – a hint of that laugh there, too, in the quirk of his lips and the shine of his eyes.
Maybe he wouldn’t mind being reprimanded by someone like her. In either case, it was more entertaining than spending his day failing at card tricks.
wearing thin the heart beneath, there's no place to call our own
The night was settling in quickly, the last vestiges of sunlight fading away on the horizon and dragging with it the bright and fiery colors of the sunset. In its place settled the inky swath of sky speckled with stars, twinkling against the black. Although spring was in the air, new growth all around in the trees and the grass and the soft budding flowers, there was still a distinct chill to this night. A silhouetted shape moved gracefully toward the lake, which reflected the sky so perfectly it was almost mesmerizing. Her steps were unsure, as though she wasn’t quite sure where she was heading, not quite sure of the shape of the ground beneath her hooves. It was, in truth, as unfamiliar to her as the sky she walked under and the air she breathed into her lungs.
There was something unsettling about the silence that enveloped the young female as she stopped at the edge of the great expanse of water, staring at the still likeness of the moon. She realized she was unsettled because this silence was not the lull she was used to hearing in her own world. Jezanna, daughter of the moon and the sun—beloved second moon—could not help but wonder who it is that controls the celestial body here on this earth. A sigh escaped her, clouded breath hanging in the air before her, and she realized that she was lost. So horribly lost. These stars were not her stars, and these creatures were not her creatures. This was not where she belonged, and she longed to see her mother and father again.
But she had been brought to this place, ripped from her home through time and space and thrust into a land that stripped her of her divinity and left her feeling raw and open. Jezanna was awake because she was so used to being awake through the night; a gentle, watchful sentinel in the heavens, but this mortal body was not accustomed to such expenditures of energy, and her bones ached from this trip she had made. In the beginning her goal had been just to get away, and although she wasn’t sure how far she had gotten she could feel the time and the effort wearing on her. Perhaps she should sleep, but Jezanna did not feel more at peace with this world than standing under the light of the stars and the moon.
What was she to do, she wondered. It bothered her to think so, but the female thought she would need to return to Eidolon at some point or risk him coming after her. What a sight that would be, Jezanna thought with a smirk. If she got lucky, perhaps she could learn the ins and outs of this world quickly and actually get away from him. For now however, he was all she had. The only slightly familiar thing in a world of strangers and strange things, she supposed she would have to make due. Jezanna was not about to put up with any single step out of line nonetheless. This whole situation was, after all, his fault entirely. May the gods and goddesses of this world help him if he tried any funny business
Posted by: Somnus - 02-24-2018, 12:55 AM - Forum: Archives
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DELUMINE
dawn court
General Laws
No one falls short of the law, and it is up to the Regime and the Council to see that the laws are upheld.
Oriens is the patron God of Dawn, and as such he is to be respected. You are welcome to worship other deities to your heart’s content, but know that Oriens is not to be disrespected in any fashion.
Knowledge is power to Delumine, and as such outsiders are welcome to our lands in order to increase our knowledge of their homelands and courts. However, while visitors are welcome, violence will not be tolerated. Anyone who attacks, injures, or harms a member of the Dawn Court will be promptly escorted from Delumine, and legal action may or may not be taken against them.
Court meetings are not mandatory, unless otherwise stated. It will be up to the various Champions of the Court to see that those under their rank are being held to certain standards.
Punishment is not something that is taken lightly, but it is not unheard of in Delumine. The severity of the punishment depends on the severity of the crime committed, and will be handled appropriately by the Regime and Delumine’s Judicial branch.
Court Life
Knowledge, honesty and justice are core values to the Court.
It is expected and encouraged for the youth of the Court to expand their horizons by seeking out life in other Courts, and to return to Delumine with valuable life experiences.
At the beginning of the Spring season, a large festival is held to bless the ‘new dawn’ of the year. It ends the period of fasting and fervent prayer that all herd members are expected to partake in at some point during the winter season. It is traditionally at least a week, but some may fast as long as they choose.
Members of the Court tend to hold their own when it comes to justice. As a society of knowledge, many things are settled without the need for higher intervention. More serious offenses follow a system that, if unable to be resolved end with the Sovereign’s decision -- which is final.
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**court customs may be updated/added
Welcome to the Denocte Warrior Tournament, hosted by yours truly, Rostislav! This tournament is to test out the mettle of our warriors, to give them experience in battle for these trying times, and let's be honest -- give them bastards something to do!
To enter:
* Post here with your intent.
* Must be old enough to in a judged battle.
* You DO NOT have to be a warrior. However, warriors are STRONGLY encouraged to enter.
Rewards:
* Experience! (+1 EXP/battle, +1 EXP/win, so +2 is possible!)
* Bragging rights!
* 250 signos to the tournament winner, 100 signos to the runner-up!
I climb to the raised dias where Reichenbach once addressed us all in merriment, making announcements of his regime and counsel. Damaris follows behind, making much less racket than my own hooves do on the stone. A quick glance around the courtyard shows one or two horses that seem to be casually enjoying themselves, but I don't immediately see any that I recognize or am looking for.
"Alright ya bastards, let's get to it! We've got work to do." Not a very nice way to summon all of the warrior-folk, but my job description doesn't necessarily include being nice. I mentally go through the list of those I expect to come. Aislinn, of course, as the Champion of Battle. I should have spoken to her about this before gathering everyone, but that thought hadn't occurred to me until now. I'd say Nora and Noah but I haven't seen them around in so long -- not since the days of the search for the Relic of the Gods. I don't expect to see them now. Leaving... Lumaris, Erum, Morrigan, Kaisar, Tarquin, Nerissa, and Black Plague. Not that I know many of these faces (have I met any of them, actually?) but the list is easily acquired when you know who to ask. And of course Reichenbach. The King a warrior just as any.
Damaris sits by my side, poised and regal as always. I smile down at her. For once, this good idea was my own. A competition of sorts, for warriors to practice their fighting skills. I'd thought about doing something like this before, but it never really took place. Now, with all the hubbub and discord going on between the Courts, it seems a better time than ever to make sure we are all ready and prepared.
Get excited, I'm gettin' a little tourney started! Reply here by Mar 2 to be included. **STRONGLY ENCOURAGED** Prizes for winning the tourney: experience ;), bragging rights, and 250 signos donated from yours truly. Tag: @Erum @Aislinn @Reichenbach @Dovev
UPDATED: Sorry about the late start date - the activity check threw a wrench in everything! Please reply by end of Mar 21 and I'll start this! Rosti thoughts | "Rosti speech" | Damaris mindspeak
