Fimbulvetr

Radames

Character OTS

OTS 1
OTS 2

Andante & Iracebeth

Couple OTS


Open pound the drums of war

#1
I KNOW THERE'S BEEN STIGMA 'ROUND ME,
I KNOW YOU HEARD THINGS ABOUT ME ―
The fight between himself and the ambrosius sovereign was now over, both parties had separated but it was Caelian that had turned to flee with his tail tucked between his legs. The hellhound paced the boarder of ambrosius, tense and agitated but once the beast realized that the king was not returning his simple mind registered one thing. Home... Despite the bubbling rage that consumed him that one fact stood clear within his lupine mind. He had to get home. The young sovereign tossed one glance back over his muscled shoulder, hellish eyes narrowing dangerously. Caelian had made a dire mistake.

Andante thrust himself forward with heightened adrenaline both lengthening and speeding up his strides. Massive paws with their ruby daggers for claws gripped the ground like cleats, helping him to gain traction where he needed it. Salmon pink tongue lolled out of his parted jaws as thick columns of silvery brume escaped his lungs, quickly whisked away by the wind he sprinted against. Small flecks of snow fell at a lazy pace, growing collectively upon his lengthy wolf grey pelt, stained both silver and gold. Another glittering golden line of ichor slid down the realm of his blackened nostrils as his body pushed itself to remain in its current form.

He traveled throughout the valley, not once stopping to slow his stride until he could smell the familiar tang of tryggr. The intoxicating scent of pine and earth flooded his senses as be bolted past the territorial marker, crisp mountain air inviting as he bounded into his kingdom. Adrenaline that once pumped within his veins waned fast, leaving his body to perform a sluggish lope through the haunting shadows of his land. His breaths were ragged and uneven as gilded liquid leaked from his weeping wounds. Escaping the treeline Andante staggered into the open, visage pointed towards the sky as his open maw released a hauntingly beautiful, albeit pained, howl.

Serpentine visionaries constricted into a thin line as his body quaked violently, bones and musculature snapping and rearranging to thrust itself back into his familiar equine form. The boy king took one shaky step then another before pressing his good shoulder against the trunk of a tree. Creeping tendrils of black filled the outskirts of his vision as he slid against the slick bark. Ambrosius...will pay in blood, He muttered to himself through gritted teeth, where Caelian's silver blood still stained his lips.
000 words. tagged.  
Tag: @[Andante]

#2

Something was... wrong. Hel had lived in Tryggr long enough to know that particular tension in the lonely mountain air that bode ill for her banner men. Like a skulking wolf she prowled along Berg-Risi, shoulders seemingly haunched as her visage hung low to the ground. Every strike of an orange flint upon the ground captured the attention of the guard, some weary as her gilt eyes surveyed the treeline. As she halted along an outcropping a fellow kingsman approached her. Delicate snow flakes fell upon their backs as silence enveloped them. Two stoic, statue-esque protectors scanning their given territory for trouble against the elements and odds... it seemed nothing would escape the Tryggr military. "You sense it then?", she muttered to her peer - no, her subordinate - as plumes of melancholy brume rose from her maw. "Aye, commander." he bay stallion responded. Hel offered him only a brief nod, so small that had he not been paying her mind it would have been lost to the obscure nature of the western realm.

She offered a cursory glance over her shoulder, eyeing behind here were the darkness liked to loom with all its secrets and teeth, but the haunted mare saw nothing. At least... not now. Forcing a small, anxious lump down her throat she turned back to her fellow. "I want every guard on full alert. I don't like how the winds whisper tonight." Her voice was a growl against the zephyrs that road the slate mountain skyward.

She pulled herself from the cliff and went to stalking once more. Snow crunched beneath her round daggers and the leather of her armor creaked in the depleting temperatures, but she did not let the elements stop her. Rather she followed her gut. While others could argue against her paranoid (if not untrustworthy) frame of mind, Hel felt duties call, felt it in her bones... It was so strong, perhaps the darkness may relent tonight, may leave her to her own devices as she proved her worth to the sovereign and his people.

Maybe.

There was a haphazard nature to the way she surveyed, snaking back and forth through the Berg-Risi hold until it unfurled into Brekka, then further still. But her methodical march yielded her results as the sun crested the mountains and trees and sang songs of slumber. On a deep inhale, the metallic tang of blood slipped across her nares like a harlot's satin scarf. Nimble legs lurched into action as her dreaded crown tore through the atmos and directed her mad man's sprint towards the source. What she was unprepared for was the heavy cologne of the boy-king. No... her inner voice growled again, darkness fading around the edges of her vision. Determined to reach him, her gait kicked into overdrive as she plunged down the snow laden slopes of Tryggr.

Finally Andante's form, hanging upon the weight of a tree, broke through the twilight tree line. A whinny - one deep and robust, not necessarily one would expect from a mare - erupted from her as she approached, a dark yet simultaneously fiery wraith as she left the darkness behind and tore towards the king. Sinking her hooves into the snow, it squelching around her wiry legs, the Tryggr commander glanced her liege over. Several wounds tore his obsidian flesh and more alarming was the silvery droplets at his muzzle. Silver? Andante's blood was gold... The trepidation within swelled and so increased the darkness edging her visions, the feeling of being watched by things not quite of this realm. But no. She could not - would not - be distracted, scared, or dishonorable now. "My king," she huffed, immediately offering herself as a bolster to keep him up so that she may aid him further up to Berg-Risi. "Tell me what has happened, who has attacked you?" Her words are quick, a compact string that illustrates her concern and dissatisfaction. You should have been there, her mind echoes in her own voice and the fires within that match the muddle of her coat cast hot embers.


W C: 680
T A G: Andante
M U S E: 4/5
V O I C E: Milla Jovovich
O O C: ---
HEL

powerplay excused
within reasonable limits!
always tag responses.

Tag: @[Hel]

#3
I KNOW THERE'S BEEN STIGMA 'ROUND ME,
I KNOW YOU HEARD THINGS ABOUT ME ―
Black flowed and ebbed along the outskirts of his hazy vision. The world spun at a sickening speed the moment he lifted his head a bit too fast. He could feel himself slipping, but refused to be pulled down into the lull of sleep and rest his body so desperately craved. His breath came and went in shallow huffs, small clouds of steam illustrating that he was in fact still living. After another moment of rest the dark stallion turned his attention toward his shoulder where the wound sat swollen and puckered from the stab Caelian tried to preform on his ribs. Gilded ichor wept from the injury and moving it felt like putting a white hot rod against his skin.

For a moment his thoughts slipped back to the freckled king that had the gall to attack him unprovoked. But he could not focus on his thoughts for too long, not after hearing a deep whinny echoing in the near distance. Casting his crimson gaze forward he noticed the all too familiar outline of Hel making her way toward him. She was a welcomed sight and the young brute even found himself releasing a breath of relief at her timely arrival. Hel... Andante muttered, gritting his fangs as he brought himself to stand. Pride made him want to deny the aid of her shoulder, but he knew better than to be foolish.

After a moments hesitation the young sovereign took her up on her silent offer. Carefully he leaned his good shoulder upon her leather clad one. He stood to gather his barrings before limping forward at a steady pace. Her question caused his harks to bury themselves into his mane and emit a guttural growl from the realm of his throat, though not directed towards her. In that flickering moment of anger his constricted serpentine like pupils turned toward his commander. I was wrongfully attacked by ambrosius' king. He claimed that I was not welcome on his lands, yet I was never on it to begin with.

Andante's leonine tail whipped angrily behind him as the fresh memory of the battle washed over him again. A heavy snort expelled from his ebon nares as they continued their climb. The hypocrite. He invites any and all into his holds and then attacks blindly upon laying eyes on me. I've spilled his blood once, I'll do it again. If he wants to fight then I am prepared to bring war right to him. Tryggr will not suffer to the cruelty of ambrosius this time around, not if I can help it.
000 words. tagged. Hel
Tag: @[Andante]

#4

Despite Andante's height, Hel dug into the deceitful western grounds and offered her strength to him. Just as the moist mixture of sod and snow squelched around her bright citrine hooves, she heard the king's blood squeezed twixt the collision of his shoulder to her pauldron. For a moment she jostled, adjusting to the added bagged of the injured sovereign, before righting herself again. Rich gold eyes studied him, studied the etches driven into his youthful features (ones that youth shouldn't experience), and the pinning of his ears into his garnet mane. He had to say but one word - only one... Ambrosius.

The transformation of rage was slow. It began with a simmer at the beginning of Andante's tale, but as the tumultuous atrocities surmounted Hel found herself thinking of one thing. Images of blackened-blue waters swelling across the mountain, suspended yet crushing, and Tryggr soldiers, women, and children fading into the depths as their final, bubbled breaths broke at the edge of the coward queen Fredrekke. Her own audits, one black and one snipped with white, laid flat along the dreads of her crown, her gilt eyes molten with the furies of all the drowned souls felled by bad blood, old blood. And while the phantom reels of a time passed slipped across her vision in a blurry, all-to-quick rendition of times passed the commander still saw her king, saw his wounds, and saw the burning desire for revenge sinking into him.

Forcing herself to channel the buzzing beneath her skin, she inched the first step forward, prepared to carry her king back to the royal quarters if it was needed of her. It was good for her; anything, absolutely anything to get her moving, get the boiling madness within her to settle, to simmer. She was quiet a moment, stewing besides him until declared war. "Those bastards! Ambrosius!" she cursed, her molasses vocals gritty with sugars that hadn't melted. "Once again led by a daft sovereign - a mad king." The rage was overflowing now, growing the confines of her body so that she was unable to restrain her own voice as they hobbled along. "I'll see them burned to the ground, your grace. In their own bright fires." she snarled again, flints striking the grounds in illustrations of the storm brewing within her.

Long she'd wished to put one of those golden bannered soldiers betwixt her teeth, and it seemed the chance was all too quickly approaching. And just as her heart felt it would burst, just as Hel didn't believe she would not spit actual fires, a crack ripped across her mind's eye. What will become of the Valley with war? A snort erupted from her twin nares, and she turned her fiery golden gaze forward. Where had that come from? Did the Ambrosius people not deserve it? But do all of them deserve to burn for the actions of one? Just like the innocents of Tryggr all those years ago... Hel didn't know what this voice in her mind's eye was, where it came from, or who compelled it to share a shred of conscious but it felt foreign and unwelcome. Would they be no better than the coward queen? And if so, how would Tryggr rise to claim the valley - the rightful ruler of Slidr - when they shared a mold not so different from Fredrekke. Another snort, this one almost physically expelling the steam and smoke brooding inside. "No..." she grit through her teeth, "No... we can't kill them all." But was it for Andante, or was it for herself?


W C: 598
T A G: Andante
M U S E: 3/5
V O I C E: Milla Jovovich
O O C: ---
HEL

powerplay excused
within reasonable limits!
always tag responses.

Tag: @[Hel]

#5
I KNOW THERE'S BEEN STIGMA 'ROUND ME,
I KNOW YOU HEARD THINGS ABOUT ME ―
Somewhere midways through their walk Andante stopped to pause. The world seemed to continue its spiral as if it threatened to snag itself right out from underneath his own cloven hooves. Attempting to block out the frozen land of swirling colors the boy opted to close his eyes tight once more, squeezing them shut as if that would help the matter some how. By the time he felt his sense of balance return to him he opened his eyes just in time to witness the look of pure, unfiltered hatred spread across the face of his loyal commander. It only lasted for a flickering moment. But that heat, that flame that ignited within her burn within him tenfold.

Her voice came next, deep and gravely as she verbally announced her distaste for the foreign kingdom across the way. A hefty snort of approval fluttered from the young sovereign's nares, sending a billowing column of steely brume into the atmosphere. A mad king, and a cowardly one on top of that. He fled soon after the fight began with his tail tucked between his scrawny little legs. I was so close Hel, so close. If I'd been a hair faster his neck would have been dangling in my jaws. The beast uttered as a guttural growl escaped the realm of his taunt vocals. I could have ended it right then and there.

As they continued their climb his minds eye drifted into a dream like fantasy of blood being spilled on both sides. Of fire ravaging the valley and of course tryggr securing a victory for being wronged to begin with. All of this played vividly within his head until it was dashed to pieces by his high ranking commander. Garnet eyes swam with the thought of seeking his revenge but a part of him stopped to consider her words no matter how it made him want to grind his teeth. He knew she was right. Innocents did not deserve to be caught in the crossfire. A gruff rumble rattled within him. Very well. But I want that king's head on a pike. I'm not going to just stand by and take this.

Stiffly he hobbled along until they reached a more central point within the realm of berg-risi and he stopped before breaking away from her entirely, wishing to prove that he could stand on his own. One of the denizens well versed in healing rushed over with her small basket of medicinal salves hesitant to extend her help without permission to touch him. "O..oh my. May I umm...?" Glancing in the direction of the maiden he gave a simple nod of his head and wordlessly she began treating his various wounds. His attention then panned back to Hel. Or, did you have something else in mind?
000 words. tagged. Hel
Tag: @[Andante]

#6

The journey back to Berg-Risi hadn't seemed long, but perhaps it was due to the emotions that ebbed and flowed amongst the two Tryggr equine. It fueled not only their strong opinions of their rival house but their bodies as well. Andante seemed not entirely convinced by Hel's revelation and she could not blame him for it. Had she not experienced the near one eighty degree turn in herself she would have been just as immobilized. In retrospect, she was surprised she hadn't felt some sort of mental whiplash. But a snort burst twixt her nares and she gave a small shake of dismiss with her visage at their pause - no... they couldn't kill them all.

She couldn't help but crack with a rare grin when Andante professed the desire to see the Ambrosius king's head on a spear. What a sight that would be - Hel was sure Fredrekke would roll over in her grave, wherever that may be. Orange flints clacked along the stony sod as they followed the trails back until finally the stud-colt saw it fit to release her from his weight. She wanted him with scrutiny, the way his knees shook and a vein on his brow beat furiously. Whatever trials this boy-king had faced - dire wolves and Ambrosius sovereign - he had pulled through. He'd managed to prove his worth to the ancients of Tryggr and the haunted vixen wondered if she would ever make the amaranthine House banner as proud as he.

Healers rushed up to him and Hel took to the outskirts of the small coupling, eyeing the others as interested parties cast their curious vision towards them. The commander leered, lip upturning in a mild snarl when some dared to come close. She didn't want anyone to catch wind of their discussion - the delicate matters weren't for the gossiping hoards of a kingdom, especially when unconfirmed. Andante's inquiry drew her back, her head turning round on her thin nape sharply so that her dreads swayed with ungraceful jerks. Something else? Her nostrils flare but not with a snort, and she turns her gave back as the once gathering crowd disperses back into the shadows of the starlit hold. "I'm sure there are innocents there, no matter how much I loathe to admit it." she murmurs, the molasses of her vocals now burned and charred. The anger hadn't dissipated, only the desire to ravage a quarter of the Valley in flames. "Why mistreat them when we can simply punish the one?" Again her goldenrod eyes cast back to him, silken in their bright pools as if the flames of her rage had melted ingots. "I'd be more than willing to accompany you back, with trusted men, to ensure a fair trial."


W C: 460
T A G: Andante
M U S E: 3/5
V O I C E: Milla Jovovich
O O C: Sorry she wasn't very cooperative :(
HEL

powerplay excused
within reasonable limits!
always tag responses.

Tag: @[Hel]

#7
I KNOW THERE'S BEEN STIGMA 'ROUND ME,
I KNOW YOU HEARD THINGS ABOUT ME ―
His limbs practically begged for release, to sink down upon the rocky and moss laden sod just so it could relax for a moment or two. As tempting as it all seemed the young sovereign refused to relent to such comfort. He would rest once his work was finished, and until then there was much to be done. The extensive length of his leonine tail whipped behind him from one side to another, anxious as Hel displayed her teeth in a stunning display of authority. While she did her job of keeping others at bay, Andante's mind continued to whirl. Despite his commander's best efforts to directly lead his plans for battle astray he still could not dash the concept of war.

He's zoned out, but only for a moment and came back in time to catch the swing of her dreads and the sound of Hel's gravely voice. The velvet of his lips pursed together thoughtfully as the maiden quickly trotted off to grab more supplies to help his larger wound clot. A sigh passed through his nares as she brought up the concept of innocents. Those that truly had nothing to do with the ignorance and stupidity of one man. His fangs grinded against one another as crimson fell to meet goldenrod. Again, she held a fair point, and so he found himself nodding once to her comment. Alright. Spare the masses and punish the one.

Ebony harks strained forward again as the next comment to leave the mare's mouth captured his attention. She wished to accompany him? He could go and handle it alone, he was sure. However it would not be the wisest plan. His gaze continued to linger a moment longer before nodding to that as well. Very well. We will leave tomorrow morning at dawn. I want to handle this while the matter is still fresh perhaps Roscoe and Mortimer could accompany us. Andante murmured as he took a step off to the side to begin his departure. Get some rest, Hel... He voiced before limping off back toward the throne of berg-risi.
000 words. tagged. Hel
Tag: @[Andante]