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 9, 2012 at 01:54:59 AM by El Aran




There were few things in the wide, wide world that were more disconcerting than a dwindling water supply in the heart of a desert. The largest oasis in Salem’s Desert was drying up behind the black mare who kept watch on the fringe of the dry and dusty grass. The mare snapped her tail at flies, as consistent as her heartbeat. She knew it would be hopeless to venture to the other two oases in her home, for if the largest water source had shrunk so severely, it was unlikely the smaller sources would offer any refreshment from the heat. And truly, she had seen worse than the puddle that lay still and stagnant a few steps away. Many a time had she come across an oasis that no longer held any moisture— not in the natural spring that had stopped welling with the gift of the God of life, nor in the leaves that hung limp and crinkled from the bent heads of trees, nor in the brown and coarse grass that poked into the frogs of her feet in a most unpleasant way. At least this oasis still held water. A storm had rolled through a few days before and had refilled the waning spring, but the desert heat was merciless.

This was a cycle El Aran had grown used to, time and time again. By the grace of Aşk there would be more rain later, before the lack of water became life threatening. Until then the black mare would bide her time and conserve her strength. She stared out across the sun-beaten land and noted the way the heat rose in seductive waves. She kept her eyes moving to avoid spending too much attention to any one place. The spirits of the dead held court in the shifting heat, and the lore of her land warned against staring for too long at the horizon. An unwary horse could be drawn away from the safety of the oasis and the herd and lured into a dry, gritty death among the endless sands.

An agitated tempo brought her eyes snapping to her right, and the black mare turned her head to get a clearer view of the creature who approached at such a mad pace. For mad he must be to expend so much of his energy in such an unforgiving land, when grass was scarce and water was scarcer. The horse brought a cloud of dust with him and El Aran flattened her ears, lifting her dished face away from the cloying particles that hung on the air. Angling her body toward the thick stallion who now dipped his head to drink, the seer stepped forward to stand at the edge of the water. She left a generous amount of distance between them.

His body was riddled with scars that stuck out all across his coat, and she wondered for a split second if their circumstances were similar. El Aran, too, bore the physical marks of her past scattered all over her slender body, pocking it with pink and white and black where her puckered skin showed through. Whipping flies away, the mare waited until the stallion had finished his drink before moving closer. She stopped as he came to rest with one hind foot propped up on its toe and, certain he was aware of her now (if he had not been before), pointed one ear at him. The other remained as vigilant as ever and twisted away from her present company.

"Have you come from the other oases?" she asked the red dun. Perhaps his mad dash had been fueled by the need to slake his thirst.

Aşk's eighth eye
♥ Uforia



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