i s o r a t h
a king in his own right,
a king without a kingdom.
The oddity of himself had been recognized fairly early on as he'd traveled to the Dusk Court, after all it was hard not too notice that even among such a diverse crowd, he was odder still. Not that he minded too much, he rather enjoyed it. He didn't look at it as a burden or a strike against his name. In his homeland he would be fairer than most, but also in welcome company of others whose scales gleamed like polished shields and antlers of many splendid and wonderful varieties. Not many, but that was a trivial fact. Here he glowed for the attention it brought, made his glittering eyes sparkle all the more in mirth and subtle smugness.
Isorath's faint smile remained as the violet-eyed stallion spoke, an ear perked forward and then the other. Too many were often focused on the art of war, the painstaking road of the warrior and it's hardships and tales, that they forgot that there was another equally deserving road for their adoration and admiration. He himself had been one such creature, until fate chose a different path for him to walk. Regent. "The pleasure is mine to meet a Lord Regent who realizes the importance of history and the arts." He mused in good humor, head dipped as he spoke Mani's title back to him. "I take it you are new to the position?" He inquired lightly, having picked up on the hesitance which had laced his tone. He remember feeling that when he had become an advisor, a would-be-king, and an emperor.
The kirin paused for a moment at the question, mirth bleeding away to fondness at the corners of his eyes. "Far to the north east of here, though I have not seen my homeland for a long time." He hummed thoughtfully, happy to indulge Mani's curiosity for now. "Cities built in white marble and precious metals and jewels. Dragon's roost in spires crafted for them, and grace the skies every day. There is magic everywhere to be found, there are few that are not born with it thrumming through their veins. It is beautiful. Wild, and yet not." There is a softness tinging the end of his words, despite the internal flinch at it. He was not supposed to be soft, but his homeland invited it in anyway. He was homesick every now and then, just as many other wayfarers and travelers. Longing for the comfort of familiarity and the company of his own blood. The pendant which hung around his neck felt heavier, the three dragons for three children of the Empress. Himself and his brother and sister.
"What of your homeland? Is it far, or were you born into these lands?" Quick to turn the question back on Mani, the Regent's curiosity reflected back in his own gaze. In his travels he'd met many particular equines, their stories as vast as the sea or as short as the brooks that led into bigger waters. Some had traveled farther than he had, while others had been blessed (or cursed) to be born to the land they all had come to reside in. What was this stallion's story? As a sage, and a member of the Dusk Court, he endeavored to find out.
"Isorath talks."
This styling is also nice for some non-obtrusive OOC credits, wordcount or banter. Don't forget that divider up there.
a king in his own right,
a king without a kingdom.
The oddity of himself had been recognized fairly early on as he'd traveled to the Dusk Court, after all it was hard not too notice that even among such a diverse crowd, he was odder still. Not that he minded too much, he rather enjoyed it. He didn't look at it as a burden or a strike against his name. In his homeland he would be fairer than most, but also in welcome company of others whose scales gleamed like polished shields and antlers of many splendid and wonderful varieties. Not many, but that was a trivial fact. Here he glowed for the attention it brought, made his glittering eyes sparkle all the more in mirth and subtle smugness.
Isorath's faint smile remained as the violet-eyed stallion spoke, an ear perked forward and then the other. Too many were often focused on the art of war, the painstaking road of the warrior and it's hardships and tales, that they forgot that there was another equally deserving road for their adoration and admiration. He himself had been one such creature, until fate chose a different path for him to walk. Regent. "The pleasure is mine to meet a Lord Regent who realizes the importance of history and the arts." He mused in good humor, head dipped as he spoke Mani's title back to him. "I take it you are new to the position?" He inquired lightly, having picked up on the hesitance which had laced his tone. He remember feeling that when he had become an advisor, a would-be-king, and an emperor.
The kirin paused for a moment at the question, mirth bleeding away to fondness at the corners of his eyes. "Far to the north east of here, though I have not seen my homeland for a long time." He hummed thoughtfully, happy to indulge Mani's curiosity for now. "Cities built in white marble and precious metals and jewels. Dragon's roost in spires crafted for them, and grace the skies every day. There is magic everywhere to be found, there are few that are not born with it thrumming through their veins. It is beautiful. Wild, and yet not." There is a softness tinging the end of his words, despite the internal flinch at it. He was not supposed to be soft, but his homeland invited it in anyway. He was homesick every now and then, just as many other wayfarers and travelers. Longing for the comfort of familiarity and the company of his own blood. The pendant which hung around his neck felt heavier, the three dragons for three children of the Empress. Himself and his brother and sister.
"What of your homeland? Is it far, or were you born into these lands?" Quick to turn the question back on Mani, the Regent's curiosity reflected back in his own gaze. In his travels he'd met many particular equines, their stories as vast as the sea or as short as the brooks that led into bigger waters. Some had traveled farther than he had, while others had been blessed (or cursed) to be born to the land they all had come to reside in. What was this stallion's story? As a sage, and a member of the Dusk Court, he endeavored to find out.
"Isorath talks."
This styling is also nice for some non-obtrusive OOC credits, wordcount or banter. Don't forget that divider up there.
@Máni
