Posted by Dazrah on October 28, 2008, 11:37 am
216.67.49.184
Name: Dazrah
Age: 7 years
Breed: 1/8 Andalusian x 1/8 Quarter Horse x 1/2 Mustang x 1/4 Spanish Arabian
Gender: female
Personal Strength: capable of great love and compassion in almost any circumstance
Personal Weakness: a little haughty and over proud
Minor Objective: become an established herd member & start on scholar path (an objective in four parts)
-interact at length with at least three herd members
-introduce self to all active herd scholars and active high ranks
-gain lowest scholar rank in herd
-present self for teaching in the academy
Super Objective: become an apprentice
Kingdom Preference: Solira
Intended Class: Scholar
Alias: Lovella Torrendo (LT)
Sample Post
from a mare character named Blood Red Tears, played a few years ago at Ki'alc mort (now a dead game)
This river has seen many years, claimed many lives and washed up countless bodies on these barren shores. The wind and rain feed its furry now pushing the normally calm waters to crash along between the confining banks. Here and there it splashes up beyond those walls soaking the hide of any unlucky bystander. It was on such a night that Wicket met his untimely end at the bottom of this very river, it was on such a night that his mother plunged in to save him and was never seen again. Of course that all happened many, many, miles up stream in an entirely different world from this one.
I can not think, can not breath, can not even see. Water fills my eyes, ears, nose and trickles into my mouth when it happens to find the slightest crack. It surrounds me, grasping, crushing, threatening to detach my limbs and rip the skin from my bones. I do not know if I am living, dead or dying; do not know if I am waking or dreaming; do not know who I am, where I am or how I got here. I know nothing but coldness, darkness, dampness and fear. Wait…is that light in the distance? Yes, somewhere down this never ending tunnel of nightmares is hope, still lingering.
Rushing water tumbles over the rough, rocky bed on its way to sea and the world sits in silence watching it pass without comment. Hold on, something is not right here, something is very, very wrong. Look there see that hunk of meat bobbing to the surface? This carcass is not made for the river, not meant to be swept to the salty depths of the sea, this simply does not belong. It is of flesh, blood and bone designed to breath air not water. The form is battered, bashed, broken and bedraggled merely a shell of what it might have been before the river had “his” way with it. There is no telling whether life remains in the limp form as it tosses along, but we may not have to wonder long for it is being pushed out of the current by unseen hands. Now it rests crumpled at the waters edge, nothing but a nameless Jane Doe.
Sharp rocks scrape my hide as they’ve done so many times before. I can barely feel the sting through the cold numbness of my skin, usually the rock is brushed over in no more than a second but just now that scraping sting persists. After a few agonizingly long minutes my sluggish and foggy brain latches on to the reality that I am near shore. With the last ounces of strength left me I lash out and catch a hoof on…something. I will never be quite clear if I, by some miracle, managed to pull free or if the river cast me aside of it’s own accord. Likely the latter I would say. However it happened the hard ground beneath me is unmistakable and as I daringly flare my nostrils cold air, not smothering liquid, seeps down to my starved lunges. I do not know how long my wet journey lasted and have no idea where home is if ever I had one. The fact that I am alive is all that matters to me right now. I can sleep peacefully knowing that the river failed this time.
Yes the shivering creature that has washed up on our portion of the banks is indeed living. There are many wounds on her body, some seeping blood again now that the water can not wash it away, but there does not appear to be any fatal or even crippling damage. Her sides rise and fall in life sustaining rhythm as she lays motionless before our eyes. Who is she? Where did she come from? Why is she here? Perhaps we shall learn as the next chapter of her story unfolds…
Message Thread:
« Back to thread