The Lost Islands
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Your King
Asmodeus
Your Queen
Nyimara
The Second
None
The Herd
Name, Name, Name
The Sub-Herd
Name, Name, Name
Allies
Name (Land)
Enemies
Solomon (Cove)
The Rules
  • There will be no fraternizing with enemies. If you put yourself knowingly in danger, don't expect a rescue.
  • We are only as strong as our weakest link. See to it that you are getting stronger in some skill that is useful, whether it is battling, recruiting, charming, etc.
  • The King and Queen have final say in all matters.
The devil is in the details
Posted on February 4, 2012 at 02:26:16 PM by El Aran




The heat was a welcome change from the blustering winds on the Crossing. The black mare pressed her hooves against the hard, packed sand and relished the warmth that seeped up into her. Miniature vibrations came to her through the earth, alerting her of the other life that shared this land. It had been a long time since she’d felt the sweltering sun on her back.

Perhaps, she reflected as she closed her dark eyes, I have already found the shrine of my Goddess. It was a thought that had sprung to mind as she conversed with her son, Iskelet. The boy was not with her now. He had grown up, and already had plans to make a home for himself somewhere. El Aran’s pride for her son was limited only by the knowledge that those who thought too well of themselves were often punished to restore their humility. "Sen benim zafer, Aşk," she breathed a prayer. Opening her eyes, the seer gazed across the level yellow land and noted the lack of change that greeted her.

The oasis was a dark smudge on the horizon. El Aran stood at the far borders of this land, for she did not know who ruled here now and she was uninterested in a confrontation with some hot-headed fool who thought he could dominate her. It seemed to be a recurring theme among the stallions here. They were uneducated and ignorant, and it was up to her to teach them that mares were forces not to be trifled with. She dropped her head to nose an itch on one knee before lifting it with a shake. Her coat was shedding, and she itched everywhere. The sands below her feet may have been blown about by the wind since she’d last been here, but the desert had not changed and she found comfort in that fact.

Dropping to her knees, the black mare lowered her body to the hot, coarse earth and rolled, working the grit against her back and sides in an attempt to alleviate the itching.

Aşk's eighth eye
♥ Uforia



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