Fimbulvetr

Nevermore

Member OTS

OTS 1
OTS 2

Arête & Tywin

Couple OTS


SWP The Burning Tree

#1

be swift!



It is not uncommon for the pools of lava in the Svart Lands to burst and erupt from time to time, especially as the heat swells with spring. But, this spring seems to usher in great volcanic activity than the rest. The dusty lands of black soil and white sand seem to tremor with life... but... wait... One long dead tree sits besides a quite expansive pool of magma. The soft orange glow of the molten rock lights the dusk desert, it's eruptions causing the earth to quake as bursts of goldenrod, amber, and pink light seem to shine like a beacon for those who may lay eyes on it. As one great burp bursts from the pool, the lone tree splinters through the middle.

A vibrant crimson glow emits from within, casting an eerie light upon the sands and rocks about. With the birth of the light the pulsations seem to increase in their strength and cadence. With it, vultures begin to dot the horizon, feeling the pull of this enigmatic force just as fiercely as the exiles may. Their inky silhouettes circle above, beady eyes peering down to investigate the alien glow emitting from the carcass of the long burned and decrepit timber. Beside it, the pool of lava burps, splattering orange hot magma upon the sands. The edges fade black as it cools, but it's gelatinous form shudders with every pulse the sweeps through it.

Something is happening! A mysterious purple glow beckons to the Exiles to it's location! What ever could it be? Participation closes on April 14th!

Tag: @[Storyteller]

#2

Evandr

Quakes and tremors were never something Evandr invited. With his Oasis, the exiles only solitude, living among the pools of lava that dotted the Svartr Lands, tremors meant only one thing. Eruptions. While there wasn't a single orange-hot pond close enough to the flora of Frekr itself, the Warden wasn't a fool. Magma didn't just pool wherever it felt. There was some sort of deep rooted system, like natural springs feeding lakes and rivers, that supplied their hellish version of water front property. And, for it to stretch at such a massive distance, the amaranthine piebald feared how large a beast may lay sleeping under the Skali Mountains.

He'd felt the first of the tremors on the edge of the Oasis. A lookout - a stallion who had swore loyalty to him when he had usurped Saren - had come rushing through the underbrush. Usually there wasn't disturbances in the Oasis that warranted such alarm, and when the brute came stumbling through the sands and up to Evandr with a strained, "You should see this,", Evandr felt the trepidation in his gut. Orders weren't necessary right now. Sure the shaken lookout would be cause for whispers throughout Frekr, but there was no need to alarm the exiles of harm yet. Besides, there wasn't any evidence something could harm them.

They made to leave, the stallion willing to guide the way, when another vibration rushed through the sands. It's exact path was betrayed by a ring of sand - who knew how large, since it's arch was so subtle as it passed beneath his slate hooves - that rippled and shook, racing along the grounds with unexpected speed. Cerulean eyes slit, watching its trail of as it progressed through the Oasis, then back out to the sands. Who knew how far into the Vetr Wastelands it'd go... And, only after the lull came betwixt the pulses did he become aware of the tugging at his heartstrings. Evandr glanced to his chest, where he swore his heart pressed against the cavity for release, pulled in the direction of the pulses, when he noticed the lookout doing the same. 'It's not the volcano...' His mind's eye questioned, but there wasn't absolute certainty decorating the thought. Without further word, his thick appendages ripped their metaphorical roots from the sands and surged forward into a canter.

Whatever lay in the rolling volcanic sands that issued the strange tremors had to be investigated, and Evandr would waste no time. It was his duty to oversee the exiles, and while others may have taken crueler interpretations of the responsibilities he was like no other Warden before him. He'd protect these equine, even if they'd committed crimes that consequently landed them in the desert. Luckily the distance he needed to cover wasn't a vast one, the herculean stud thundering into Skali mountain with heavy drumming of his hooves. Now and again he could feel reverberations scoring through the terra below him, and he was keen to keep his aqua gaze upon the vats of molten rock growing in count and proximity. Every time one of those mystery pulses jettisoned through the earth, the sink holes of magma burped, spewing their consume-all-eat-all plasma upon the sandstone.

"What the fu-..." He spat between breaths, his sides heaving and screaming with the intake of the hot, dry air. Growing in frequency, the pulses surged again and again, at times seemingly coming in duos. Eruptions roared from the vats, throwing the yellow, almost white hot molt to the sky. Slowing, Evandr picked his way through the volcanic sands, gaze ripping from their hellfire bogs, and following the trail of the pulse. Each time it came to fruition and passed him, he felt it tug within him like some deamon's invisible claws. It was pulling him forward, at he questioned monetarily if it had been his choice to pursue it...

Ahead, a crimson light snared his stare. A burnt timber stood as a haunting reminder of what had once dared to grow in these infernal sands. Motes of ruby danced along it's trunk, swimming through the air haphazardly and without purpose. Every time another vibration rolled through the grounds, consequently erupting the lava pools, the glow seemed to intensify. Royal audits fell back into his navy mane, and Evandr's side constricted the air within his lungs as he held his breath. "What in Gods' names?"

WC: 733
Tagged: Open
OOC: Shit's going down, man






powerplay excused
within reasonable limits!
always tag responses.
@[Evandr]

Tag: @[Evandr]

#3

be swift!


The ground begins to heat, the craggy earth glowing with a crimson hue. Fissures ranging in width and length spread through the area in a perfect circle, but the confused male is left unscathed; the temperature under his hooves unaltered though the earth burns further to ashes and dirt under him. A rumbling begins, scattering smaller rocks and pebbles; not unusual for this place by any means but the creature stepping from nothing is decidedly not the norm. The large quadruped slides into this plane of existence with practiced ease, amusement dancing along blackened features. His skin is the exact shade of cooling magma, that black-gray mix tinged red-orange in places and skirting the edges of his form.

He resembles a horse in some respects but an elk in others; if either creature were carved of volcanic rock. The 'skin' is revealed to be stone-like in construction, the embers of flame burning trails underneath reveal his true composition. Lava granted life, flame given solid form, and rock blessed with easy movement. Ashen eyes peer across the landscape, fiery pupils to match the magma burning away under his outer shell scanning until spying the large male staring at the tree he emerged from.

The amusement curling rough lips slides into a satisfied smirk and the flames weaving their merry paths among and around his antlers spark brighter for a moment. He will suffice. The nymph steps closer to Evandr and releases a streak of pure flame in his direction, not interested in his mortal reaction, but rather the thoughts going through the male's mind. The blazing light breaches the confines of his mind but does not speak telepathically to him; it is not this nymph's preferred method of communication like some of his brethren.

His gray gaze sweeps across Evandr's once before vocals made to match his roughly beautiful exterior seep into the heated air. "Ah, the exile king stands before me." The molten man releases a sardonic laugh laced with true affection. "My favored vagabonds." The words spoken as an afterthought, released on a contended breath. The Exiles have always managed to endure and the nymph will do all he can to ensure a future containing his favorite mortals. His features lose their humor then, falling into a serious arrangement as he stares into the Warden's eyes. "You've not had the easiest go of it." His head shifts to the right in a slight tilt, the cultured words at odds with his roughened appearance.

The nymph steps forward, into the other's personal space, and nips his shoulder just enough to pierce the skin. As the blood pools into the wound, he releases a rumbling growl much like the sounds the earth made before he walked out of the charred tree. Fire meets skin then as he breathes out a small plume of smoky flame to cauterize the flesh wound sealing in a gift of unmeasured price; the land will quietly murmur in his ear.

With that granted to the Warden, he steps back, his features twisting easily back into their favorite mocking expression. "Evandr, do not disappoint me. " He becomes incorporeal the further he shifts away from the male, the tree beginning to glow brighter the closer he comes. As he slides between the split halves, his form entirely disappears with a wink at the exile king and the tree sparks. Fire carves a dancing path along its trunk, wrapping and curling along its sides like a lover's silken caress. It spreads upward to the top before bursting out in a spectacular display of branches comprised entirely of orange flames and looking eerily like the antlers that graced the nymph's head.

A voice floats on the wind, meant solely for the Warden's ears. "You could never." The sense of a smile curling the edges of coarse lips breezes under the elk-nymph's tone; leaving it unclear whether his words are a cruelly placed arrow or a genuine display of friendliness for the burly exile.

Congratulations! You've met the Nymph of the East! Evandr has been bestowed with the gift of Nymph Touched, and all participants will receive 50 crystals!

Tag: @[Storyteller]