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.
You’re not Salinger. Get over it.
Posted on April 7, 2022 at 10:49:55 AM by Frey



Frey was a large creature with an even larger frame– chalk it up to Tyr’s blood running through his veins. Whatever, though. He’d be his own man. He’d do his damndest to be his own man and make his own name, no matter the cost. Separating himself from the general’s shadow wasn’t really the easiest thing to do, especially here in the Lagoon, but the sooty colt would be damned if he wasn’t going to try. Try his damndest. Even if putting effort into anything more than keeping himself alive was hard some days, he had to try to rise in his own right, Tyr be damned.

Orphiel, the stranger’s name came. Frey’s gaze remained steady, boring into the creature that stood before him. Studying him, though the intensity would make some uncomfortable. Frey’s dark gaze remains steady, ever present. Unflinching. He barely holds back the urge to sass the stranger, but thinks better of it in the end. Their numbers had been struggling as it was, best not to drive away someone actually interested with his dry words and (admittedly) shitty attitude. Instead he looks upon the man and nods once, curt and steady. Fuck, since when did he get so tired at the very prospect of social interaction? Frey considers that he should have let someone else (literally anyone else) handle greeting this stranger. Still, he’s made his bed, he’ll lie in it.

“I’m Frey, one of the Lagoon’s soldiers.” His tone is carefully composed neutrality. Orphiel asks about staying here, and the sooty colt nods once. “Yeah, I mean, it’s probably not an issue.” Frey isn’t sure how he feels about his home being used as little more than a crash pad, but he’d take it. His eyes narrow after a moment. “There are rules, though.” There were rules now, at least. The roaned stallion shifted his weight, watching Oriphel for a reaction. Did he think this was some kind of free for all, no rules shitfest? Well, Frey was about to find out.

“Don’t fuck with the Peak, don’t fuck with anyone who doesn’t deserve it. Pull your weight. If you see anyone in the Common getting out of hand, step in and put an end to it. I dunno, normal shit.” Frey shrugged. He wanted to add don’t even fucking look at my girlfriend to that list, but for now, he’d refrain. If Frey had to castrate him later, so be it. This possessive streak in him was new, but not entirely unwelcome. He eyed the stranger from his careful distance, hoping for at least a glimmer of understanding.

three. friesian x. sooty red roan. 17.3Hh.
Tyr x Kvothe



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