.: Not Going Down Without A Fight :.

[stage53]

Clarition Clear


Clarition walked next to her new friend, they were on a trip. Clear realized her friend was acting weird but wasn't sure why, it seemed very odd. It was even odder that she had never been allowed to leave her lands, yet she was now. She knew this stallion her whole life, her mom had given her to him. Clear wasn't exactly sure why, all she remembers is she said some thing about her father and needing to leave. Unfortunately her buddy lost his land, and she wasn't sure what happen to the rest of the herd members.

One day she woke up and they were all gone. Clarition trusted him the most he never bred her, the things she hated the most in the world. He treated her like a daughter, and she loved him like a father. But now he said not a word to her, some thing he always did. They reached Auction Rock he opened the gate and gestured for her to go in. She obeyed and went in not knowing what was going to happen. Her old master closed the gate and walked away with out a word.

It took Claritin awhile to comprehend and when she did, all h.ll broke loose. First she didn't move, she was upset. Tears ran down her face, her chest beating hard. But then fury took over. She no longer felt abandoned, but betrayed. She trusted him and he left her. Clear took off running around the pen bucking and rearing. She ran towards the gate and her legs propelled herself over the gate. She took off running for her life. As soon as the guards saw her take off, five came chasing. Claritin swerved in between masters and slaves alike, kicking and biting any one in reach. Everyone began to clear out of the way leaving an open room between Claritin and the guards. Eventually two more guards came and cut her off. The other five came with chains and stuck them on her. One around her neck, and one around each leg. The chains were super heavy, and were used to make it impossible for her to run away. But Clear didn't care. She started bucking and rearing despite the weight. The guards all pulled on the chains trying to gain control. None had any luck.

Clarition broke one chain off her leg. The collar started digging into her neck. Clear broke free from the guards, knocking down some. She took off not even minding the chains at the moment. Clear had a rush of adrenaline running through her body. Nothing would stop her, she wouldn't let it. Just then she slowed down to a halt. Her fury was gone and now she was weeping again. Pain rushed through her body, and she had given up. " Come and get! I'm done! Done!" Claritin screamed out into the air. "Breed me, beat me. I don't care! I'm dead now any way!"

[Pledge]

Gold Mine

The one, in the flesh, walked out into the open. His chestnut coat shone in the sunlight, and his muzzle raised in a nicker. But, before it could get out, a loud scream echoed through the air.
Fresh meat.
The snort was happyish. His first victom. Exciting? No. Thrilling? Yes. He had someone to beat on, finally. Rich's blood bay hooves pounded against the ground as he cantered towards the beaten mare.
Well, well, well. Look here. Dead, you say? You don't look that ugly.
His eyes narrowed, and he demanded a request.
Name, and age, mare. Now. I don't have all day.
Rich's brown eyes scanned Horse Head Field, looking at every horse. And then, the beautiful pools looked into the distance, at Wolf Rock. There were many beaten wolves there.
Speak up, b.tch. All the time in the world belongs to the Devil, and I don't think he'll let me have much.
Rich's teeth bared, and his foot stamped. All the wolves were howling, and it was annoying him.

[tyrant]

_Leeland_

[/font][/center][/blockquote]

All time to the Devil, eh? I think not.

There was a land Leeland hated to go. There was a place that smelled of death, sorrow, and betrayal-- and the big brown stallion hated to enter its gates. Screams of fillys, grunts of steeds, and the whimpers of wolves made his ears prick and fold in reaction to such a place. It tugged at his heart to see such a place- where one is less than another. Aye, one was bred a "slave", per say, and have a brand upon his flesh... but could one ever brand a heart? Flint hooves tread past the pleading glances of the other fillies and stallions. Leeland walked past without glancing-- how could he pretend that he was better? Each before him, every one, held a brain, a heart, lungs, and an able body. Who gave him the right to pick and choose? Snorting out the stenches, blocking out the sounds, the great Andalusian stallion stopped as he watched a depressing scene play before his russet eyes.



Not to say that Leeland was a pushover, or a "light" or even a pansy for not wanting to take his Master name and use it for his own good. No, Leeland was not one to play 'God', or even pretend. He was not interested in breeding poor virgins, beating males and females, or even capturing an army of slaves. Leeland, the great King of Cimetire, had no such things on his mind. Justice, morality, and rightfulness was on the forfront of his mind. Yes, he aspired to do great things. To over throw this disgusting tyranny that spread over the crevices of Sobibor. And yes, he was a firm and serious King who would use punishment and would go to war and kill and destroy-- however-- Leeland, unlike many, was just and good. His character shone through his strength and size. And that was the difference between him and another pushover, or a dark thoughtless stallion.



There was a sadness in the eyes of the mare before him. Her master, apperantly her friend, had left her with naive and unjustified intentions. Frowning, he stepped forward, his strong shoulders carrying him there. He was a handsome brute, and young, too. Dark black mane lifted in the slight cool breeze, but fell against his thick neck as another stench filled his nostrils. A scrawny, sorry-excuse for a stallion sauntered up to this mare. Snake-like eyes looked her over, and he spat out his "clever" words. Lip curled in disgust as the apperant Master looked her over as though she was a prized plot of kentucky grass, or a prostitue of some sort. Twin ears melted into his skull as the large, toned brute gave a low snort, cutting off the sorry stallion's speech about some devil giving him time. In this situation, he was indeed running out of it.



Golden specks in the eyes of the large Andalusian, fiesty and serious, caught the light as he stepped forward, arching his neck. He looked ominous, large, and powerful. The great King of Cimetire picked his heels up high as he stepped forward, looking at the stallion with distaste. He had no such patience for ignorant fools who use their gender against the other sex, or thier size against the meek.

" No, I don't think so either-- though it's not the devil that is alloting you such a short amount of time. Step down, brute, would you really wish to waste time over such a mare you deem ugly? "

Leeland stepped closer, his large size, though not unnaturally large for his breed, looming and commanding the stallion to step down. A smirk curled his lips as his tone, serious as death, clapped like thunder. his eyes looked over him in disgust.

" Would you readily tumble with a King over such a thing? After all, there are so many other mares you could force into your sorry existence, or beat, or worse. "

Leeland looked from the scrawny stallion to the mare. She was lovely, and healthy. Built, but feminine. He needed inhabitants in his land. He wished to have a herd that was happy, strong, and powerful. His military would fight for what was right, and his equine counterparts would live at ease. At the thought of it all beginning, his chest swelled with pride. The mare would do good to be taken in by him and to start with him what would be a direct conflict against what she was going to become-- a slave to rot in the belly of a disgusting Tyrant's land. Leeland saw potential in this mare. He saw the hope and life in her eyes before her former master left her. The good king of Cimetire looked with a serious yet not unkind glance to the female-- hurt and broken.

" My dear, I cannot tell you what to do. However, I offer you a home and a future. I am prepared to fight for your potential, though it would not be as much a fight as it would be a duty and a right thing to do. "

[/size]




S T A T U S Complete
WORD COUNT 957
C R E D I T S Authorship: me.
O O C All in good fun, Pledge. Whatcha say, stage? There is a plot brewing between Leeland and Darkness and Forte. A war brewing-- but Leeland needs inhabitants, first.

[Pledge]

Gold Mine

The stallion before him, called himself a king? What a joke. What a joke! Oh, wow. That gave Rich a laugh. But, then again, he did sorta know some things.... No. No. Don't think like that, Gold Mine. You're going soft! His muscular body straightened up to his full 17.0 hand height.
I have came for this one, stag. I shall not bow down to you, even if you call your self a 'king'. Ugly happens to be the word I use most. She's fit, yes. But, ready to be tortured? No. That sort of ugly, stag. Gold Mine is my name, and torcher is my game.
His front right hoof stamped on the ground, skidding up some dry grass.
My first slave is all I have ever wanted, and this mare it shall be.
His banner flicked in annoyance, and his ears pricked in instinct, listening to his surroundings. He was sure the mare was scared of he and the other stag. But, that was the way it went.

[tyrant]

_Leeland_

[/font][/center][/blockquote]

What lofty goals you have. May I suggest...?

The Belgian stallion before him straightened up, trying to do his best to be intimidating to Leeland. The brute was only two inches taller than he, which didn’t mean much to Leeland, anyways. Rolling his shoulders forward, the great Andalusian had elegance and regal posture, a brilliant stature, and a proportioned body where this stag before him only had brute force and two inches of height. On top of the external assumptions, the internal assumptions did not seem very good for this brute before him, either. With a military-like mind, the King analyzed this beast before him. Though his words were like that of a viper’s, he seemed young and brash. Though youth did not necessarily mean ignorance, this brute’s words did not help his case.



With patience, the great bay stallion listened to the male’s words. His voice seemed, at times, meek and unsure. However, at the same time they seemed strained and forced. Did the stag really know what he wanted? Or was he simply looking for a purpose, and the only purpose that he had ever been taught to strive for was to torture a slave? It seemed foolish and ignorant in Leelands opinion; kind of a waste of a life and virtue. Taking a breath, he almost pitied this stallion before him. Taking a breath, he spoke back to him. Though Leeland had not forgotten the mare, and he kept her lovely frame in his sight.

" My fellow Master, Gold Mine, I do not reprimand you to bow for me. Also, I do not understand your motive for having a slave, or for your use of your apparent pet-name, ‘ugly.’ However, I do think that you should reconsider all that you have claimed here. Your talk about your desire have this mare ends here, lest it be a speech you regret speaking, or perhaps one of the last things you utter."



Leeland did not particularly wish to smite the beast, though the world might be better off without another stallion with such a mindset as he. In addition, Leeland’s beliefs contradicted everything this steed stood for, and sooner or later, once he got his army, he would indefinitely be against this brute. If this brute was to make it until then, that is, and held a land of his own. Taking a deep breath, he pawed at the crusty, dry, cold ground below him. There was potential in even this brute, he imagined. Leeland commended the brute’s drive to do something, anything, just to feel like he accomplished that thing. It was just sad that the brute had such a narrow and flakey goal. To have a slave? Lofty. What if his goal was to have a mate, a herd, a life, a cause? Leeland looked his over. Strength could come from this brute, stamina, and a strong mind eventually. If this brute could yield, that is.

" I have a different proposition for you, though, if you wish to take me up on it. This involves you, too my dear lady."

Brown eyes blinked with serious but just stamina. He was, indeed, a just, good, and right King. To those who took his leadership, that is.

" Gold Mine, if I could offer you a more prodigious goal, a more fulfilling and notorious lifestyle—would you readily accept it? If I could place you in a position where you had more to live for than just beating mares and breeding illegitimate foals—would you look into it? Take haste, then, and do not be so foolish as to clash with me. What do you say?"

Leeland looked him over with a stern look. His mind wondered what this brute would choose. His choice would render redemption, or sign a enemy treaty with Leeland. The King of Cimetire, though good, was not tame nor a “light”. He would have no disdain nor any regret after he toppled into the stallion, stripping the stag of his health and ego. Soft eyes looked on the mare, though they were still serious.

" My dear, do not fear that your next breath will be taken under chains or under the belly of a stallion. The choice this brute makes has no difference on your fate; rest easy. "

[/size]




S T A T U S Complete
WORD COUNT 844
C R E D I T S me.
O O C Pledge, would you be interested in being a sort of general or sergent in the army? This is not a willy-nilly plot, either, it's set in stone and will happen.

stage53, I have not forgotten your mare! Dont think I have, I was just expanding my thinking. C : *waits for your post*.

[Pledge]

O O C Well.... -think- Sure. I'd be up to that.

Gold Mine

First off, the Belgian snorted, his eyes narrowing. He replied in a sturdy, steep voice.
W-...Er....
His nicker was short, but strong. His hoof scraped the ground impatiently. Once he heard what the brute was saying, though, his eyes widened.
Well....Uh.... Really? Why....
Oh, Rich understood alright, but.... Wow. This was an honor. But, did he want to take this on? Pfft. Yup.
Thank you, brute. It would be an honor to live that. I'll take it on.
His mane blew in the breeze, cocking his head gently as he looked at the ground. His eyes scanned it, looking over the dirt carefully. It was soft, and gentle, though looked frozen. The grass he had scraped up was wet, and now ruined.
His eyes rested on the sky, then, and he watched the clouds. They were fluffy, as if cotton candy. And, it was a blue color, too.

[tyrant]

_Leeland_

[/font][/center][/blockquote]

You Have Sealed Your Fate.

A satisfied and pleased look crossed his face, and his chest relaxed from its intimidating puffing and flexing. Rich was agreeing to become an ally and perhaps, be one of the most important part of the future of Cimetire. Russet eyes looked him over with acceptance. Nodding, The Good King’s voice rumbled out to him.


"Gold Mine, you have made a wise choice. There will be many beneficial consequences to what you have chosen. Come, if you will, after we are done here, to my Kingdom and I will tell you more of these great things. Call me Leeland, by the way.


This Belgian brute before him pleased Leeland. His grandeur strength and depth of purposeful thinking made him distinct from all others—a perfect addition to a newfound country and belief. Indeed, perhaps Rich will realize that his unnatural former need to beat and torture a slave was all a lie; was all wrong. Of course, though Rich was under the security of King Leeland, and of the seal of Cimetire, the brute was not off scotch-free. Trust and respect was to be gained—but that would take time. Now that the devil did not hold Rich’s time, there was plenty to share.

Leeland now turned all of his attention to the mare before him. With patient and kind eyes, he looked at her healthy, lovely form. He did not rush her to speak, nor make her feel pressured. He wished she’d speak, though he understood she might be overwhelmed with the situation. Though it would be frustrating and awkward, seeing as she’s a girl, and he would have to deal with her emotions, he would do just that. Leeland did not speak, but waited for this mare to move.

[/size]




S T A T U S Complete
WORD COUNT 376
C R E D I T S me.
O O C Sorry for shortness--*waits for stage*

[stage53]

Clarition Clear


Clear watched as the first stallion came and talked to her. He thought he was a hot shot. A stud. That he could walk by all the mares and they would hang all over him. She infact didn't find him attractive at all. You know what I'm not going to say a word to him. Not a single word! Just then he realized he called her ugly. Ugly? Ugly! Um sir, look in the mirror! I am beautiful! Clarition looked down to observe her body. Her beautiful black mane and tail flew in the wind. He blue tinted coat was perfect, not a hair out of place. Her black legs were clean, the hooves healthy.

She was very well muscled, and the perfect weight. Her green eyes sparkled. Very few flaws could be found. What do you know .ss? I am fine. Once again he spoke. Won't he take a hint, I haven't said one word to him! Anyways you don't need to know that I'm not leaving with you any hows! Clarition fought back a smile. Did he just call me b.tch? Well I have a few names for you as well. Jack .ss.


Rich was really getting on her nerves. And just then, Oh great another idiot! Clear tunned out for a second. Why should she have to listen to the idiotic stallions speak about the devil and how they were taking her. Sorry toots, I'm not having visitation. So it's one or the other. Clear stomped her feat and in a second she froze. Did he just ask me what I wanted?! Hey he might not be that bad! Just then the ugly stag spoke again. No you ruin everything! Thanks alot!

A frown wiped across her face. Maybe the nice one will still still listen to what I want. Just then a faint, super quite laugh spilled out. She found it hilarious as the stallions tried to make them self look all big. Height wouldn't scare her or sway her decisions. Just as soon as they had declared enemies, they were friends? What was going on? Her favorite stallion spoke about war and fighting. As well as fighters. But no only did he ask her, but that idiot stallion.

Clarition snorted so either way , if he said yes she would have to deal with him. Great. And what does he do, he says yes! Enemies now friends. I don't get stallions at all. Clear had all these little Witty comments and answers running through her head. So we are going to MY masters land now? She had decided she liked him best. He was good looking, kind, promised she would not be stuck in chains, and he would even fight for her. That won her over. But before I leave I must say something I have on my mind. Clear shifted her body towards Rich, " I jack .ss am Miss Slave. I am only three millions moons. And no I don't think you're attractive at all." Clarition quickly walked towards Leeland's side, if Rich got mad she was safe over here. And she laughed the whole way there."You master, are a nice stallion. I would like to go with you. In fact you remind me of..."

She stopped in the middle of her sentence. He reminded her of her old master, her friend, her "father." Just then tears began to stream down her face. Why. She lent on her new master, and began crying. She bit her lip as hard as possible, to make herself stop. "Sorry, I.... I just. I don't know." She straightened her body, and moved away from Leeland.

[tyrant]

_Leeland_

[/font][/center][/blockquote]

There is nothing for you here.

Standing tall next to the Belgian steed, the golden specks of valor in his russet eyes looked with intrigue at the mare before him. His shoulders rolled in their sockets, but not with impatience, as she seemed to be trying to analyze what just went on before her. It was kind of an unusual thing, he supposed. Two testosterone-filled stallions prepared to scuffle at one moment, then allies the next. Leeland snorted. That is how it goes when you let intelligence govern your thoughts. Hardly a brash word or foolish gesture is allowed to escape.

The young mare before him was preparing to speak. She seemed a bit flabbergasted at the scenario, but partial to him. That was all good and well, and he did not expect her to dislike him. However, as the mare before him spat out her suppressed feelings for Rich, Leeland could not help but intercede. Her comments, though justified, were of bad timing. A stern but gentle voice reprimanded her, though not in the least bit harsh.

" Now, dear, this is no way to talk to a comrade. Like it or not, you belong to the same herd now. You two will be apart of the same body until death, or banishment. I suggest you begin to build bridges instead of burn the ones you have….."

The Good King looked at Rich in a knowing glance, but there was no hostility in his demeanor,

"…whether or not he currently deserves your respect. Perhaps he will make the steps necessary to do so? "


Leeland watched the mare turn emotional, and fought the urge to recoil. She had reason to be upset, reason to cry. However, mares and emotions always gave him the willies. In his previous herd, in his childhood, there was no such thing as comfort or intimacy. Leeland did not even know his mother or his father past professional acquaintance. Swallowing in an uncomfortable-like manner as she leaned on him for comfort, all of his muscles tensed and tight, he coughed before he muttered gently.
" My dear, fix your eyes and let us go to your new home. There is nothing for you here."

Turning easily on nimble feet, the great stallion nodded to Rich and turned his noble head in the direction of his kingdom.

"Gold Mine, when we get to Cimetire, I will tell you more of what I previously promised you. "

[/size]




S T A T U S Complete
WORD COUNT 957
C R E D I T S Authorship: me.
O O C If you two want to post in Cimetire (separate from Déjà vu’s post), that would be awesome.

[Pledge]

[Stageh, if wanted, I'll make a topic without replying here. See you in Cemitire.]