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.

what a wicked game to play [Khajiit]

what a wicked thing to do to let me dream of you


There was a certain thrill within Fiero as he collided with that of the paler stallion, a stranger in his eyes, yet the dance between them is not of anger but of simple sparring. Was this how it felt to be a bachelor? His golden eyes are on fire as they watch the uniquely coated stallion before him. Fiero had kept himself away from such actions, fear of being scarred for life or even worse, steering him far from the company of the other men who came to call the lagoon home. The dunalino turns, putting himself away and to the side of the thinner built stallion, his breaths coming out hard and uneven yet he is not tired and the skin along his shoulders where teeth had briefly touched ached but Fiero felt alive. His eyes slide over the stranger in silent approval.

“Care to go again my bello?,” Fiero’s voice is like silk, sickly sweet and charming while looking him over still, legs itching to carry him around once more until he can't breath. Had he known before that to fight and to spar would be so thrilling he would have taken part in it long ago. Sure he squabbles here and there with his Switch, the spanish lady meaner than any other mare he’d ever met, but her touches weren’t as hard pressed as other males, they didn't push him to retaliate; not that he ever would against her.

“Perhaps not,” he sighs, to himself, relaxing poised muscles that had begun to ache more and turning to scratch at a bit of skin the other male had managed to pinch down on; working at it for a second before the questioning gold eyes move back his newfound companion, “have you called the lagoon home long? I’ve only just returned for the time being.” He is curious of course, poking around for information that would give way as to whose side this exquisite looking stallion was on.

“I’m Fiero,” the dunalino dips his head, the syllables of his name leaving his mouth yet his tongue rolls the ‘r’ just ever so when giving it to the stranger to pronounce himself should he choose. He shakes himself out, relaxing under the filtered light of the afternoon that creeps through the foliage above them.


what a wicked thing to say you've never felt this way
fiero.
Son of Sicily & Rade
html © dante. image © valerie.


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