lurched like a stray to the arms that were open

POSTED: Mon May 27, 2019 3:50 pm

The wandering trader had been a welcome find amongst the many travellers who seemed to meander so often through the Miramichi Valley. With the change in the weather came a time of movement – with all manner of folk picking up their things as winter finally withdrew its chilling grasp from much of the land. Spring brought with it perfectly verdant green, flowers upon flowers that eagerly raced one another to soak up the most sun in meadows that had forgotten what color was. Iomair felt that it was a keen omen for the future of New Caledonia – each new member a blossom keen to enter the new realm that would be built for them.

The trader was missing a tooth, so sometimes when she spoke her tongue flicked out as if to taste the air. Other then that she was cloaked in layers of scarves – they seemed piled too high and wrapped too tight around her little face – but she was kind and listened when Iomair told his ambling story. He also asked questions about the territory of which they’d staked a tiny claim in (though truly, any passer-by could oust them from their camp – there were so few of them to defend it properly) but it seemed that the trader, though she wandered far, mostly avoided larger groups for fear of befalling a similar fate.

”It appears you do not have much to offer me,“ She was sympathetic, but Iomair understood that she could not trade nothing for nothing , ”But I will come to you again before I return south – perhaps then you will have something to offer me other than stories.”

Iomair chuckled, ”I understand. Surely there must be something I could take from you that could be grown or reared – something that New Caledonia could return when the seasons begin to change?”

She was pensive, her tongue flicking too fast as she weighed his words.

The sound she made was a rough one, but somehow Iomair found it gentle. ”Fine. I will give you seeds.”

It was not what he had wanted, but it was better than nothing at all.

She dug through a saddle bag with nimble fingers and emerged with a small leather sac pulled taught with twine. The seeds were light in his hand, and he could feel that they were all different sizes inside.

”I- Thank you.” They would not grow until the next spring – but they were something. A gesture that showed Iomair that their story was meaningful – that it touched the lives of even strangers.

”I was going to throw this away.” She pulled a knife from an even deeper bag – but it was a tiny rusted thing, the leather hilt shiny with wear. Iomair bowed when he took it and offered the trader, Meena, a smile that was befitting of a King. He understood that somehow the trader pitied him, and he tried his best to appear bouyed by optimism despite the pit which sometimes opened like a deep dark hole in his gut.

”Thank you.”

She mounted her horse and waved after him, urging the shaggy pony forward with her knees. ”Hopefully you survive another winter.”

He blinked a moment and smiled softly, ”You too.”

When she was gone he turned back towards the camp, fiddling with the tiny knife in his hands as he went.

For anyone that wants to meet Iomair!

Iomair

  50/1000 Honor  
New Caledonia
The High King
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Amanda
Maintenance Aide (I GOT THAT BROOM BROOM BROOM) Luperci

POSTED: Wed Jun 05, 2019 8:56 pm

Milos did not travel far from their modest camp these days, not after his unintended adventure with Daisy or his (more or less) intended adventure with Walker, but sometimes, especially when he was feeling particularly restless, he wandered to that familiar span of land that Krokar had once claimed as its own.

He breathed in and, in the thin breeze that curled around his nose, Milos thought he could still smell the traces of what Krokar had been: water and fish; manure and hide; soil and crops. Closing his eyes, the aging wolfdog held that breath – and that memory – until his lungs burned and ached and screamed. With a rush of air, he breathed out again and immediately sucked in the fresh atmosphere to satisfy his body's need for oxygen.

And, all the while, the man moved about aimlessly with those bright, dull, fiery eyes moving restless about within his dark, greying skull. He thought of many things and revisited many memories, but eventually, after he had meandered for longer than he could confidently say, Milos began to hear voices. He froze, listening intently while every nerve in his body vibrated, and ignored the ache in his chest when he refused to breathe normally.

"Seeds," he thought with a wave of relief, initially concerned by the man's intention to grow or rear something. In the mind of a former slave, whose eyes had seen countless injustices, this could carry unpleasant connotations. He was relieved to know that it was plants they spoke of, rather than Luperci.

Three was something within the man's acceptance of the trader's seeds that sounded to him relieved, maybe almost... desperate. Milos pressed his dark ears back against his skull briefly and listened, without seeing what was exchanged, as their transaction ended. There was something kind about it, the aging Parhelion thought, genuine and compassionate. Milos stood, frozen in place, and considered what to do next.

Sorcha would have told him to carry on – to forget everything that he had heard and do whatever it was he wanted to do next – but Milos was not Sorcha. Despite all the brutality and the betrayal that he had suffered, there was still a glimmer of something that offered him some restoration of benevolence in Luperci; some hope in the future of their species.

Clearing his throat, the dark wolfdog approached after the trader had departed. "Hello there," he offered the man, smiling despite how broken his spirit felt. His eyes were embers dimming of life. "Couldn't help but overhear all that talk 'bout trade," he explained. "Don't got nothin' right now m'self, but if there's somethin' in particuar you're lookin' for, reckon I'd like t' see if I could help."

Pausing where he was, some distance from the bearded man, Milos allowed his ivory's tipped tail to wave slowly, lowly, behind him.

OOC: OH HAI

[WC — 485]


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Mandi
Luperci Mate to Eliza but you'd become my candle in the dark
the sun still rises
even through the rain

POSTED: Sun Jun 09, 2019 6:36 pm

Since the meeting many of New Caledonias refugees had taken it upon themselves to discover as much as possible about this new land – seeking out larger groups in an effort to trade or gather information. Iomair did so quietly and with no boasting, dolling out his realm’s history in dribs and drabs in order to collect sympathy. It was a valuable commodity, for often times it swayed a situation in his favor or gathered others to their cause. Slowly new members had begun to gather in their camp and Iomair itched already to move and settle somewhere permanent.

Living as the trader was not something that appealed to him.

She had swayed atop her horse before disappearing through the trees, and Iomair couldn’t help but wonder if she would ever return. He was surprised at the suddenly sound of a throat being cleared and he grunted softly, allowing the warm-shade of his eyes to widen as the dark wolf picked his easy towards him. Milos Parhelion was a worn man, with lines around his eyes that reminded Iomair of his own. There were stories trapped up between his teeth and clenched between the friendly wave of his fingers.

There was something familiar too – but Iomair brushed the thought away like a cob web.

Iomair hummed before he spoke, a warm sound the filled the air between the two men with mirth.

”I appreciate that.” He extended a hand to clasp the others forearm in greeting, ”I am afraid that my group is in need of a great many things.” He sighed, allowing his brows to furrow for a moment before he glanced back towards Milos’ kind face. ”We have come from nothing and so must start from nothing. It has proven to be a humbling experience.”

The King allowed a soft smile to play upon his scarred lips, ”I am Iomair Nartholiel, High King of New Caledonia.”

EEEEE I caught a Mandi <3 <3 <3

Iomair

  50/1000 Honor  
New Caledonia
The High King
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Amanda
Maintenance Aide (I GOT THAT BROOM BROOM BROOM) Luperci

POSTED: Fri Jun 21, 2019 8:35 pm

There was a warmth in the hum that the bearded man emitted and Milos found himself soothed. Loud and pervasive as a gong, the fallen Captain was reminded how terribly flawed a man he was.

Innocents get themselves beaten by folk they have no reason to trust, but only fools keep on trusting.

Slowly, but not necessarily with hesitance, the dark wolfdog lifted his arm and extended it to the stranger. He no longer felt that terrible, old tingle of anxiety that he used to when he was touched – or, not often – and Milos wrapped his rough hands around the other man's forearm with gentleness. Without saying as much, the Shoalman dipped his head in acknowledgement of the stranger's words of appreciation.

Milos processed the rest of the man's words with respect and curiosity plain in the neutrality of his posture and the openness in his face. He nodded. "Reckon I can imagine." It might have been many years ago now, but he had once come from nothing and he had helped to build something great. "But keepin' on as nothin' en't so terrible," he said with a small smile and a half-hearted wink.

Mild surprise parted his dark lips and widened his dull eyes. "New Caledonia?" he echoed thoughtfully, sifting through his memories. Stripped of his leadership rank and left without a pack, Milos had found early on that basic survival mattered more than keeping apprised of pack politics. Clearing his throat again, the aging Parhelion offered sounds of apology before providing his own name. "Milos Parhelion," he said. "'Fraid I en't got no title'r pack, though." The look on his face was sad and almost... penitent. "Jus' me'n my family."

After a weighted pause, he asked, "What's it your pack's most in need of?"

OOC: you diddddddd and then i poofed because of DCG's stuff. sorry for the delay! D:

[WC — 306]


User avatar
Mandi
Luperci Mate to Eliza but you'd become my candle in the dark
the sun still rises
even through the rain

POSTED: Sun Jun 23, 2019 2:19 pm

The accent immediately had Iomair pricking his ears towards the black and white wolf-dog. It was an accent that was warm and reminded Iomair of the boy he had met with his oxe a few days before. Iomair made a sympathetic sound, ”Sometimes it feels that way – but we must continue on.” The thought of his realm falling away into nothing made his heart twist painfully in his chest.

The mans name had him smiling softly, ”Parhelion? I have met a Percival Parehlion, is he of your relation?” The scruffy faced boy had helped him locate his token and had been from a place that he had referred to as The Shoal. They had gone through similar destruction of their homes, and Iomair had felt a kinship with him almost immediately.

”We have come here with very little. A sheep and a few horses – and now these.” He shook the bundle of seeds and smiled. ”Rebuilding will take much more than that I am afraid. We need builders and healers – and knowledge of this land from those who have lived here a long time.” He placed the seeds gingerly in his pocket, ”Eventually we will need to move, and I want to assure that it is to the right place.”

<3 <3 <3

Iomair

  50/1000 Honor  
New Caledonia
The High King
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Amanda
Maintenance Aide (I GOT THAT BROOM BROOM BROOM) Luperci

POSTED: Sun Jul 07, 2019 5:41 pm

Milos hummed an agreeable sound and nodded, once. "Reckon that's somethin' we're both in agreement 'bout," he replied with a small smile. Whether they stayed in the shadows and saw only to their own, or charged forward to forge a new path in the sun, the necessity to keep on and survive another day was the same either way.

The sound of his son's name falling from the stranger's mouth made Milos flinch as though he had been physically struck. And then, after a moment of silent and measured gawking, the Parhelion patriarch laughed. It was throaty and soft – just above a chuckle – and when the sound of it fell away again, a true smile remained on his lips. "Yeah," Milos said, nodding. "Yeah, I reckon he is. Percy's my son."

Despite the mirth on his face, though, the knowledge that Percival had not shared with him the details of his adventures – of meeting high kings or forming outside relationships – left a weight in his chest. Since Krokar's fall, and the misfortunes and decisions that followed, Milos felt as though something within their bond, which, though was never terribly close, was always loving and strong, was gradually dying. The thought stung.

Listening to the High King speak dulled the pain. Again, Milos nodded and rubbed the back of his neck characteristically. "En't got much in th' way'a buildin'r healin' knowledge, but this place's been my home for longer'n it hasn't." He paused a beat, allowing his eyes to drift to the forest behind Iomair's head. "Be glad t' help ya learn a thing'r two 'bout it if it'd help you'n your people."

[WC — 288]


User avatar
Mandi
Luperci Mate to Eliza but you'd become my candle in the dark
the sun still rises
even through the rain

POSTED: Sun Jul 14, 2019 3:18 pm

Continuing on was difficult to fathom – for there were so many goals to be accomplished that if Iomair lingered upon them for too long it made his head spin. Every morning he longed for the comfort of Vodevas arms, for the warmth of words that went beyond her prayers – but instead here he was, proving himself in an effort to better a future that he could not yet see. Athras was rooted in the old ways, rotted in times that had come before.

Here was a man, Milos Parhelion, who had seen a similar story. He had lived it.

Iomair’s face lit up with surprise. ”By Dúrs feet! It seems that fate has somehow brought us thundering together.” Iomairs grin was large as he continued, ”He’s a good boy – helped me to find something that I’d thought was lost.” He thumbed the token in his pocket and lowered his head, ”I am very sorry for what happened to your home – he mentioned that it burned, just like my old country.”

”My scout, Tamlin Anor has made great progress in seeking out a place for us to stay. For now we are at the base of Mount Oromocto – but as our numbers grow…” The King gave a tired sigh, ”Eventually we will need to move. It worries me for right now we are safe.” He thought of Vodeva curled alongside the fire, the pretty glow of her cool eyes glittering against the flames. Iomair fingered the pin upon his cloak and wondered how long it would be before she allowed him back into her heart.

He twitched his whiskers, ”What do you know of the other packs of this region?”

<3 <3 <3

Iomair

  50/1000 Honor  
New Caledonia
The High King
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Amanda
Maintenance Aide (I GOT THAT BROOM BROOM BROOM) Luperci

POSTED: Thu Jul 18, 2019 6:14 pm

Watching the man's expression brighten was like watching a wave rolling in off the sea and crashing onto shore, starting with the widening of the eyes and ending with the broad and booming grin. It was almost contagious and Milos felt his dark tail begin a slow and steady cadence from behind him. And, from within his chest, his heart swelled with pride at the knowledge that his son – a boy not long past a year of age – had been so kind and compassionate toward this bearded stranger.

"That so?" he replied with a chuckle, his cheeks starting to burn from the smile "Glad he helped ya out." Percy was a good boy... at least from what he heard. It had been a long while since they had last sat down together and shared a meaningful conversation.

The shift from his son's helpfulness to Krokar's unfortunate fate was met with a slowing of Milos' wagging tail and a tightening of his smile. "Yeah," he said. "Thank you." He considered Iomair with pointedly, his orange eyes warm and sad. "You too. En't right, goin' like that. Sorry you'n your folk went through th' same."

Safe.

Milos looked away, his eyes on the forest beyond Iomair's crowned head, and considered what was safe. Krokar, he had thought – they all had thought – had been safe. But that had turned out to be nothing more than wishful thinking. Safety, he had learned, was never guaranteed.

But instead, the greying wolfdog nodded. "Base'a Oromocto's broad, but I don't reckon there's anyone therebouts." Not since Vinátta disbanded and Sapient dissolved. "Reckon you outta be safe from pack claimin' land'n such." He did not want to assure their safety, though. Because they were not safe. Nobody was ever safe.

Scratching at the back of his neck again, Milos considered what he knew about the other packs. "There's Mistfell Vale, down south along th' river. Salsola's somewhere 'round there too, I think, but I can't say I know where for sure. Then there's Casa di Cavalieri 'cross th' bay. Mistfell Vale'n Casa di Cavalieri were decent folk t' Krokar, my old pack, but I reckon I'd be weary'a Salsola. En't had no issues with 'em personally m'self, but I've heard from folk who have."

[WC — 398]


User avatar
Mandi
Luperci Mate to Eliza but you'd become my candle in the dark
the sun still rises
even through the rain

POSTED: Sat Jul 27, 2019 9:20 pm

Iomair would never have been able to guess the life that Milos had lived. He would have been shocked to learn that the man had lived through a life of slavery and being captured by cultists – that not only had his home been destroyed by fire but that his family had lived through its own grief and sadness. Milos was happy go lucky despite the pain that lingered in his eyes and Iomair found himself wishing that he could help the man forget.

He wished that he could help them all forget.

When Milos listed off the names of the packs the King immediately committed them to memory.

Mistfell Vale. Salsola. Casa di Cavalieri.

All names that spun through his mind and had him scrunching his nose with concentration. ”I’m not familiar with any of them. Where is Salsola?” He made a sound in his throat, ”Our main Scout has been spending time apart from our camp in order to locate a suitable place for us to move to as our camp grows and needs change.” He cocked his head and offered a smile, ”I wouldn’t want to end up too close.”

<3 <3 <3

Iomair

  50/1000 Honor  
New Caledonia
The High King
User avatar
Amanda
Maintenance Aide (I GOT THAT BROOM BROOM BROOM) Luperci

POSTED: Sun Jul 28, 2019 7:25 pm

Sometimes, especially in the night when his mind was held captive to the memories of the past and the worries of the future, Milos wished that he could forget. But in the clarity of wakefulness and the warmth of the sun, he always found himself arguing against such drastic measures.

Because in order to forget – in order to take away all the fear and all the hurt and all the suffering of the past – one also had to give up all the growth and all the ambition and all the hope that cut the way into the future.

For better or for worse, Milos would not be who he was without his memories; without his past.

Shaking his head slowly, the greying wolfdog shrugged. "Can't say I know," he answered honestly. Once upon a time, what seemed like eons ago, Milos had talked of finding the pack and discussing trade options. But then had Fiskebyn burned and Krokar had fallen and Salsola's location no longer mattered. "Wish I could be more help, but all's I know is that they're somewhere east'a here. I think." He twisted his lips thoughtfully, glancing away. "Anyway, jus' be sure'n tread careful-like."

Looking back at the bearded king, Milos allowed his smile to spread again. "But as I said, as far's I know, there en't no claims t' Oromocto. Not unless someone new's taken up space there. But then..." He shrugged, as though to suggest that, unless they were established, it meant nothing.

As the silence from the fallen Captain's maw grew, his smile faded and his eyes grew more thoughtful. And then, as though catching himself, Milos blinked and nodded abruptly, his smile returning. "Reckon I outta get back t' my camp," he began, gesturing vaguely. "There anythin' else I can help ya with?"

Because, despite that little voice of Sorcha's in the back of his mind, he felt compelled to do whatever he could before he departed.

OOC: we can probably wrap this one up too unless you have something else Milos might be able to provide Iomair. <3

[WC — 336]


User avatar
Mandi
Luperci Mate to Eliza but you'd become my candle in the dark
the sun still rises
even through the rain

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