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.
Moth wings & dusty books.

Beschea

“I don’t recall giving you my full name.”

She should have seen him coming, with his gloriously pale and ashen skin, weaving through the barren shadows of the desert to find her and the chestnut lad. In the company of two men, she should have been more careful with her tongue, she should have sought to appear meek and polite- but that was not the way she was destined to go down. While not a hardened fighter, with scars licking across her lean, delicate body, she came from a line of fierce, proud characters, and from those proud characters a sort of arrogance had been injected into her mind.

Sova did not like to think that she was arrogant or full of herself, but she was brave and determined- curious of this dead terrain and of the bodies that littered it- the ones that were not dead, of course.

Looking to the chestnut man, she sees the fire burning in his eyes, watches his head stretch up in a defiant way, but his cool is kept. Even as Encantador claims a position at his side and he falls back and away into his shell. With a slight curiosity peaked, the smoky mare turns eyes back to the first stallion she had met upon landing here, casting a critical eye up his body and over his face, seeing that the shadows appear to have been lifted and his anger subsided, if only temporarily. With mention of her ‘snooping around’, the girl lets a small smile slither across her lips. Perhaps she had become a master of learning names through silent means, taking what little he had given her and being able to deduce, through a series of questions, just who he was. Ignoring all the words that had been spoken, she pipes up.

You do not look so broken today.” A little sigh of feigned relief. “I do not need to fix you, then.” And with eyes back to Mellow, with the burning red skin and the strange switch between strength and submission in the presence of the dunskin stallion, she stares long and hard, for a couple seconds, drinking in the tuck of his chin, the drop of his head. Interesting. “Sova.” She looks back to Encantador. “My name is Sova.
s o v a ;
mare. smoky black. crossbreed. EE aa nCr. 15.1 hands. fishthread x lyov. russell.


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