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.

keep your eyes on the stars.

The air was cold, biting her golden splashed coat as she emerged from the frigid waters. Her hooves sink into the sand as she pulls herself from the water's depths. She visibly shakes, the freezing temperatures piercing her. She mutters underneath her breath in dismay. Her flaxen mane sticks heavily to her thin neck. She’d barely made it out of the water. Curved ears prick forward taking in her surroundings. In desperation, she flees the murky waters for the sparseness of the forest. The trees, mostly dead from the winter months providing little cover for her.


The cold ravages her body, her shaking near uncontrollable. She had not prepared for the swim before making it and deep regret mars her face. She lengthens her stride as she crosses the tree line to the meadow. Her hooves sink into fresh snow as she begins to slow. She paws briefly at the powdering substance to reveal a very sparse amount of grass. Her stomach growls at her in response. She hadn’t eaten today yet. She lowers her dished face to the group, snipping what is available, ensuring her eyes remain alert to the danger. She breathes deeply as she raises her head to survey the white meadow. Blowing out softly, her breath swirls in the air indicating the freezing temperatures. Faint scents taint her nares of others who've recently been here.



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