The Lost Islands
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Lagoon

The Boss

Garmr

The Marauder

Peyote

The General

Marko

The Companions
None Druna None

The Thieves

Jormungandr
Khyber
Kristjan
Síhtríc
Tribulation

The Associates

Azizi
Atticus
Leukos
Lucifer
Salinger
Thranduil

The Soldiers

Kheldar
Vaingard
Rosto

The Trinkets

None

Boss's Decree

"For every brother you bring to our
midst, you may keep a trinket all to
yourself. She will not be sullied or traded, unless you deem otherwise. But should you bring a mare here without a new brother first, then I will consider her property of the Lagoon as a whole
and do with her as I see fit." - Garmr

The Offspring

None

Rules

• The Lagoon is where homeless stallions come to live as a brotherhood. Mares may not live here except as captives or companions for the Leaders.

• Soldiers keep mainly to fighting, Thieves keep mainly to raiding, and Associates may do both, neither, or act as diplomats. Members may issue their own battles and raids, but should generally consult the General, Marauder or Boss for permission.

• All major decisions are determined by vote, but the Boss maintains order within the Lagoon and has the final say.

• Elections for leadership positions will be held every TLI summer, provided the qualifying criteria are met.

• You can find detailed information about how the Lagoon works on the Rules page.

• Upon election, the Boss can issue a rule for members to follow during their tenure. It is up to leadership to enforce.
the Terror that Preys
Posted on March 8, 2020 at 10:53:54 AM by RAGNARR

RAGNARR

the Terror that Preys


Ragnarr’s sobs only deepen with the weight of his relief when his beloved Lagertha stirs, and the scarred warrior leans in close and holds his breath, heart trembling in its cage of bones. It swells within his chest, with intense emotion, as he catches her whispered confession that had always lingered unspoken between him. There is a sound in his throat that catches, and gruffly he tries again, his words dripping with the desire he feels for the magnificent and mighty woman before him.

“I know this,” the words are whispered hoarse in her ear, the heat of his breath washing down her neck. “Minn hjarta, it has always known this.” The air he breathes, heavy with Lagertha’s scent and the iron tang of blood, stutters in his throat. He squeezes his eyes closed and leans in to her touch, taking the greatest care as always to be gentle. The last of his tears spill over, and in this tender embrace, Ragnarr knows the deepest sense of peace that he will ever feel. A prickle of de ja vu dances across his skin and when he speaks again, his voice is deeper, fortified by and echo from the past, when they’d shared a conversation similar to this one. “Lagertha, you are my Ástæða þess að lifa,” he tells her now. “My greatest love, the one soul in the whole world that I know will never forsake me.”

Ragnarr trembles, but holds fast to the hope Lagertha has given him. The half-blind stallion draws back, giving her a moment to rest, and turns finally to their newborn son, who is strong and healthy. Nickering softly, Ragnarr lips gently at his son’s cheek, nickering warmly, and nudging him closer. He trusts that Lagertha will rise to her hooves when she’s able, but for now, he can help keep the boy warm.

Attention returns to Lagertha as she lifts her weary head ahead, and Ragnarr reaches to press a tender kiss to her beautiful face. “No, my beloved,” he corrects her gently, his heart thrumming in his chest, weaving a song of his love for the noble warrioress before him. “They knew we needed each other. That is why they led me back to you.” And he turns his head, to take in the sight of their son with his seeing eye, the right side of his face, heavily scarred, hovers close to the pale visage of his soulmate. She honours him with the naming of their firstborn, and, naturally, he returns honour to the one who will always be deserving of every good thing.

“He is Mjöllnir,” he whispers in awe, dark brown eye fixed on the golden child’s face, unable to look away. “For the gods looked down and acknowledged your worth, my drottning. They looked upon you, and blessed you with a perfect son, who will grow to be mighty.” Ragnarr entices the boy closer, and lapses into silence, content, so content with the family he wraps in his embrace. They are everything to him, and he would do anything for them.

Translations:
Minn hjarta – my heart
Ástæða þess að lifa – reason for living
Drottning - queen

html by dante!
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