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 GODS CONTEND IN VAIN


EL ARAN
El Aran was beyond weary. Swimming from Salem to the Crossing had stretched her muscles in a way she was not used to, and the spike of panic she had felt upon seeing the stallion on the shore had wearied her before she even made the return trip to home. By the time she set hoof on the sands of the Desert again, she was exhausted. And her trek back to the oasis had been interrupted by that terrifying encounter with the bay Akhal-Teke. Her muscles ached from the combined activity and emotional strain, and she longed for nothing more than solid sleep, one uninterrupted by nightmares or the need to wake herself and be wary. Resting just at the edge of consciousness was no rest at all, and she let her eyes droop closed as her breathing slowed and focused on Vesti’s voice. There is safety in numbers, she reminded herself.

"I have been to the Crossing." Why, she could not even recall. What had prompted her to leave her home and venture out into the rest of the Islands for the first time in years? The waterfall, she remembered. She had wanted to see the waterfall again, the natural testament to her goddess that flowed from the shrine on the mountain. Instead she had been given a sign, and she praised Aşk with each exhale for that gift. "I met a stallion there. He is marked like one of my enemies: gray, but flecked with red as if sprayed by blood all through the coat, and with shoulders that weep the color. I do not know why, exactly, Aşk has sent me this sign, but I know we must be wary.”

As she spoke, El Aran opened her eyes and looked again to the horizon, then back and around at the oasis. Their home was a miniature heaven in a vast hell, and she knew well how much another horse would covet their sanctuary. The seer would not give it up without a fight. "War is coming," she said, and was surprised at how calm she felt as she uttered the words. Had she not predicted this in her dreams? Had this not been true since the day she set hoof on the Islands, rising from the ocean under the eyes of the stars as she fled her ravaged homeland, certain that any day now she would be face to face with those who had followed her all the long way from that barren, brutal desert so many miles to the south? The Akhal-Tekes were here already and, by some grace of her goddess, had left her alone until now. Seeing the flea-bitten gray in the Falls made her suspect that the Arabians would not be far behind, and where the two of them co-existed there would be no room for anyone like her.

It was El Aran’s fault, after all— a horse with foul bloodlines could not be a seer. It was blasphemy of the highest kind, and Arabians hated blasphemy. Akhal-Tekes were more lenient when it came to worship but both breeds loved their war. Zalim zorbalar, all of them. The black mare tossed her forelock out of her face and exhaled abruptly. "Vesti. We cannot trust any Purebreds. There was an Akhal-Teke in our home —inside the borders! An Akhal-Teke in our home yesterday, and they only bring trouble with them. Beware also Arabians, and if you see... if you should see a mare such as I have described, then run." Her voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. "Run away, so that you may live to fight another day."

SEER OF THE DESERT
html made with love by shiva for uforia 2014


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