If Solterra was to be restored to its former glory, or rather to a glory it was capable of (and not the kind ruled by evil dictators), there was a whole range of improvements that had to be made in order to make the court inhabitable first of all, and then prosperous. Already Maxence had begun the garden preparations in order to create a vast field of food for the pilgrims who came to call the new Solterra home, and now he would put his back into the first improvement given to their troops.
It was easy to ascertain that the warriors of the sun were at a disadvantage to any other in Novus - they lived where plants did not grow and thus eat only where and when they could, they toiled in thick and relentless heat, in sand, on stone, in scrub. While other courts train upon luscious flat prairies or padded fields, Maxence's forces made do with the crumbling sand dunes of the Mors - perhaps the only place soft enough against a fall to train in all of the kingdom, but most of the time spent training is trying to keep your feet in one place.
It was for this reason that he had set his plans of a training ground into motion. It would be a hard days work, and a full day of work at that, but it would be more than worth it when it was the Solterrans who always had the upper hand against the other courts. The commander had begun by marking the border in the dirt with his hoof, the vast and empty space in the south side of the court (which was still speckled with boulders) soon to become the Solterran army's training ground. It was at least eighty feet wide on both axis, with ample room for training exercises and multiple opponents.
It would be a great improvement to the troop, yet a great curse upon their rivals. There was nothing Maxence liked better.
WARRIORS, YOUTHS and REGIME lettuce get these boulders moving and make our training arena! This thread definitely isn't compulsory but it'll be fun I hope :D
@Leviathan @Eden @Eik @Serein @Avdotya @Seraphina @aryel @Victorina
"Eternal sunrise, eternal sunset, eternal dawn and gloaming, on sea and continents and islands, each in its turn, as the round earth rolls."
- - -
'Solterra is a volatile land, dear Eik.' He replays her words, seeking the meaning hidden in every inflection, every tone, feeling as though language is not enough, wanting more. Wanting the questions to answer themselves instead of spawning more questions. 'As are its people.'
Their volatility makes them weak. And it is infecting him.
He wants to go home, but that place does not exist anymore. More importantly, those people do not exist. The sadness he had locked away is seeping through the cracks. He stopped running from it and now it threatens to catch up to him. He thinks perhaps he does not belong here, but he wants to too much to give up on it yet.
He is the first to show up. No doubt it is because he favors the morning hours, before the heat invades the day. "Brother." He greets the winged stallion with a nod of his head. The word sounds slightly flat. He does not salute, but his manner is not defiant-- if anything he seems eager to be here, to get to work. Perhaps he forgot the rules already.
(Perhaps rules are silly things designed to keep the meek in line, perhaps he denies hierarchical structures, perhaps power is self defined and comes from within, is not given or taken like some trinket, perhaps--)
"Shall we, sir?" He gestures to the largest boulder, too big for one man (at least this one) but perhaps if two worked together...
Seraphina rose with the dawn, as ever.
Maxence intended a training ground for his warriors, and a training ground he would have; she’d heard him speak of the advantages that the other courts held over the Solterrans, and she couldn’t disagree, though their hardiness was a power in and of itself. Having somewhere to train a bit closer than Ruris was hardly a bad idea, especially given that the Day Court’s backbone was its military. They were a nation of fire and blood, and they had to keep their skills honed to a knife’s edge, lest Solterra unravel and collapse just as rapidly as it had under the rule of its last Sovereign. (He had been a careless man – prioritized throwing everyone into war, children into war over having well-trained warriors.) She hoped that the path they led would not find war, or, she supposed, she should hope, because if they did, it meant that she had failed horribly as an Emissary. For the time being, however, she was glad for the source of manual labor – she’d spent most of her time healing from the teryr battle and studying in the library, and she was itching to move, itching to feel her muscles burn and sweat pour down her skin. Though she expected the labor to be grueling, especially in such dry summer heat, she was practically fidgeting with anticipation as she made her way to the arranged meeting-place, something of a skip in her normally-ambivalent steps.
She arrived behind Maxence and a warrior that she had seen occasionally – Eik? She was fairly sure that was his name. Seraphina drew her gaze along the boulder-flecked training ground, examining the massive stones thoughtfully. “Shall we begin?” She didn’t actually wait for a response from either of her fellows, who seemed to already be engaged in conversation – rather, she snaked her way across the field to the largest boulder that she thought that she could move and, pressing all of her weight on one shoulder and ramming it onto the grizzled stone, began to shove it towards the border.
I'M IN A ROOM MADE OUT OF MIRRORSand there's no way to escape the violence of a girl against herself.☼please tag Sera! contact is encouraged, short of violence
'Brother'
The word called to him with little urgency - in fact the opposite, though, as if Maxence had been longing to hear it, he turned his nose quickly to meet it. The gaze was not one he immediately recognised (much to his despair), and certainly not one of a so-called brother. Regardless, his perpetual frown was raised ever-so-slightly at the sight of humble Eik. "Eik," the commander began "I am glad to see someone off their ass" he grumbled, soon to turn back to face an almighty boulder that would need shifting. "Even Solis can't be fucked today" he then chortled, eyes raising to the dreary grey skies above. Maxence dare not complain though - For a physical task like the one set before them he'd rather toil in rain than relentless sun.
Footsteps drew his attention to the slender, womanly form of the Emissary who looked quite ready for work - almost more than he was despite her healing teryr wounds, and still she proceeded to begin work before either other warrior had. Eik was quick to take to a boulder and call him 'sir', while Seraphina waited for no man. Proceeding to step beside Eik, Maxence shoved his shoulder into a lower point and began to heave his weight forward, praying that Solis would not let him make a fool of himself on today of all days. Even Seraphina seemed to manage by herself.
When the first rock was rolled to the outer edge of the arena, Maxence turned to face a striking amount of others who would all need the same monolithic effort to move. With the heaviest of sighs, a debate raging within his mind (on whether he really wanted to do this) he pressed on, shoulder ramming into the closest obstacle in order to roll it off the new sparring menage.
WARRIORS, YOUTHS and REGIME still plenty of time to hop in :D
@Leviathan @Eden @Eik @Serein @Avdotya @Seraphina @aryel @Victorina
While he wasn’t a warrior, and in fact was far from it, Voltaire knew he had more to make up for than the others. The midnight blue caretaker heard the call of Maxence, and made his way toward the leader without hesitation – for if there was work that needed doing, he would toil in the sun beside his brothers and sisters. That was what communal living was all about, after all. Having come from a long line of warriors, Voltaire understood the hierarchy and the cost of duty. He understood that all were needed to continue living in harmony. And he knew what happened when that harmony fell apart.
The crystal between his forelock was heavy, like the burden he bore… but he pushed aside the reminder of his sins and wasted no time in finding the place where warriors were building the arena. Already, there were others working at pushing boulders to the edges, and he joined in the fray, not by tackling another boulder right away, but by digging away some of the packed dirt around the boulder’s edges. This way, they would be easier to push. One by one, he worked his way around the circle of stone, listening to the muted conversations and making no noise himself (save the labor of his own breath).
Once the furrows were dug, he began to push the closest boulder, toward the others in a slow but steady pace. Muscles rippled in his haunches as he dug in his hindquarters to push with more leverage. It wasn’t that he wanted to work alone, only that he didn’t want to be in the way of the others. Surely, there was a plan at hand, but looking at the large and jagged rocks, he knew they needed more help to be effective. Otherwise, the four of them would tire too quickly, good intentions aside. Turning to see if others were coming, he sighed (at the empty sight of the canyon), and continued to toil in the midday sun.
While hard and gritty, the work was somewhat invigorating to the man of oceans for eyes and a lions roar for a voice. With each huff of breath that proued over the brim of a boulder, to the jagged step of his laboured legs, there was a euphoric and accomplished feeling that came from doing less-than-forgiving work such as this.
The minutes passed into long hours and by the time the arena was clear the body of the sovereign was reduced to sweat and bloody scrapes. What once was pure and alabaster was now stained with a foul mixture of dirt, sand and caked blood with hair rubbed missing from the jagged boulders subject to removal.
"Good work" was all the commander had to say to the small group who toiled beside him, though truly he was proud of each of them. He was especially surprised to see the seemingly ever-silent Voltaire had joined him once again.
It was with little fanfare and hullabaloo that the sovereign limped away in the direction of the canyon, seeking nought but the cool waters of the creek and the long stretch a walk would provide.
That concludes this thread! We now have a training arena!
