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.

seems like you could use a little company from me, Shenzi



KENDRY
Summer’s moon shines bright on the beach at the southernmost point of the Crossing isle, illuminating thousands of glittering grains of sand and casting a cool glow on the perlino stallion who stands elbow deep in the waves. The ocean is calm tonight and water eddies around him, lifting his tail and dragging the coarse strands back and forth with each watery pulse.

Kendry, for one, feels extremely content. He’s back where he belongs: on the Islands, in the Lagoon, doing his thing. If he were a housecat he’d stretch himself out long and languid with the slit-eyed stare of a hunter well-satisfied with the day’s catch. The irony makes him chuckle—he’s accomplished nothing since his return—and he dunks his muzzle in the waves to blow bubbles.

The hefty stallion turns in a slow circle, spinning himself away from the beach and out toward the open ocean and back again as he trails a line of bubbles across the water’s dark surface. He’s never been a particularly purpose-driven individual but every once in awhile a plan strikes him, or those of his cohorts, and he’s always followed those impulses willingly. Right now he’s at apparently loose ends, but that suits him just fine. He’s got an inkling of an idea forming, and where better to make such thoughts tangible than alone in the ocean? He lifts his nose out of the water to draw in more air before slipping it under the waves again and exhaling thoughtfully as he continues to spin, his bright blue eyes focused inward.


stallion . draft mutt . five . perlino . 18hh . son of marlena


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