We Lead the Mighty

Summit - Leaders Meeting

POSTED: Mon Oct 21, 2019 7:55 pm

So far no one had caused any trouble, at least none that Luca had been told about. He was proud of the Cavaliers and how well they had seemingly taken to the role of hosts. Many had greeted the other packs and shown individuals around, helping them feel welcome. He was also proud of the guards. In what other packs could you request that all adult members act as a guard on shifts and feel confident that the majority were quite capable? It was one of the small advantages of encouraging and enforcing training as part of the Cavalier culture. Even the healers could hit you hard enough if you dared them too. It brought Luca some comfort to know that even with potential enemies within, his home was safe. Or so his pride would lead him to believe.

As the morning pressed on he did one last check of the War Room, a smaller room with a rather large round table within for the sole purpose of confidential talks. He had used the room for conversations with the Council less than a handful of times, and it was where the previous leader summit had been held, so surely it would be well enough received as a place for this one. On the table, the wine had been poured, and a bowl of water sat for those who would refrain from alcohol. A small variety of meat was also laid out in convenient bite sizes for eating between conversations. He wasn’t sure how long this whole thing would take. He planned on having everyone introduce themselves and share any news, then move to individual talks should they wish. It was all very possible that the meeting would be extremely short in favor of wanting more time dancing and celebrating later that day.

Calling out to the leaders to gather he waited by the door, giving a nod to Honrin and Teagan who had both volunteered to stand guard and ensure no one disrupted the meeting, and, worst case scenario, to help the Lune get out of any potential mess this meeting might get him into. Slowly the leaders arrived and Luca motioned to the table for them to find a spot. Once all packs were accounted for he took a seat as well, holding a glass of water in his claws. It was rather lonely to be the only leader for Casa at the table and yet another reminder that his leadership was fragile. “I’m glad you all could make it. I trust that the Cavaliers who delivered your invitations were nothing but polite. I think it would be best if we just went around the table and introduced ourselves and shared any news from our packs. Much has changed since the last summit after all.”

Taking a sip of water he stood back up, feeling a little awkward as he did so but decided it was for the best. “I guess I’ll start us off.” His mind raced, trying to think of what sort of news he might share. “My name is Luca Knight, I’ve been a leader of Casa for almost four years now, succeeding my grandfather who founded the pack and lead us for four years.” There was pride in his stance as he spoke this. The Knight family had headed the protection and guidance of the Cavaliers for eight good years now and he hoped to continue. “Since the last summit, we have grown in numbers but have felt the loss of our closest ally, Cour des Miracles. Recently we added another pasture for our growing horse herd, as we are working on being more selective in our breeding. We have also taken claim to more of the coast.”

Closing his mouth he swallowed, moving the conversation away from just his pack, “More concerningly, last spring we had some trouble with strange tall flowers which caused hallucinations. Thankfully they all found wilted before summer but I am curious if you had any similar plants near your packs. Lastly, I want to put out the offer of some trade. We are very interested in continuing to better our horse herd and keeping our bloodlines fresh for cattle and sheep.” Sitting down he waiting for the next leader to take their turn.

OOC: Set in the morning hours of Oct 21st, in the War Room of the courthouse. Two guards are at the door. 700+ words


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Casa di Cavalieri
Lune
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Melissa
Luperci Sailor Tier I The Brotherhood: Master Equestrian

POSTED: Tue Oct 22, 2019 6:25 am

Word Count → 5+ :: ooc

Saga didn't appreciate the number of highly conspicuous guards Luca had placed around the fort, nor the command to stay within its walls. Only the constant presence of Honrin was a welcome one. While she understood the reasoning behind it, Salsola well known for their ways and the gang of coyotes her son had defected to an entire clan of wildcards, it irked her none the less. And it was an entirely pointless irk too, for even if she had been given the freedom of the land, Boone's bastard son kept her tethered to safety and warmth. She'd forgotten how limiting motherhood could be, though she hadn't quite forgotten how rewarding it was either.

The Lune had called them all together one morning, gesturing them into a room that was largely occupied by a great circular table. Honrin stood at the door, and Saga afforded him a bemused smile as she strode past him, the boy in her arms squawking loudly as his little blue eyes figured out who the large white man was. Inside the room, the Ursarchon settled herself, taking advantage of the delicate cuts of meat and handing one to Ramsey so he could gnaw at it and save her fellow leaders from listening to his efforts to articulate himself. She eyed up the wine too, and after much debate, she poured herself a glass. There would be no foolery while she had her son to watch out for.

Saga listened intently to Luca's words, though she found no real interest in them. Perhaps Baelish would, when she related the news of the summit, horses had always been more of an interest to him after all. And having had no real contact with the Court aside from the ball she'd been in no mood to enjoy, their departure was less significant to her and the Vale.

As Luca finished, Saga took the opportunity to speak.

'Saga D'Angelo. Ursarchon of Mistfell Vale.' The dappled woman began, standing up, Ramsey still in her arms, desperately chewing on the sliver of meat.

'I have ruled in the Vale as Ursarchon since early spring, however, Felix and Calia left towards the beginning of August, leaving me solely in charge. Spring brought a lot of trouble for us, first with the collapse of one of the bridges spanning the St. John's river,' a dark look fell across her face as she contemplated her next words, 'and then with the death of a boy. Killed by an Outsider.' The Salsolanesque word likely betrayed her heritage, but it didn't not betray her similar mistrust of those who were not apart of her own pack.

'More recently, we have arranged a trade deal between the Del Cenerens and ourselves, as well as breaking ground on the construction of a paper mill. Among our members, we have skilled builders, preservers, farmers, healers, and many other craftsmen, who I'm sure would be willing to take up commissions.'

Abruptly, her spiel concluded, and with a stoic nod, she regained her seat.

Saga D'Angelo
New Caledonia
Commoner
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Vida
Luperci the crowned bear

fortitude
ursa major

POSTED: Sun Oct 27, 2019 10:12 pm

Do not cry out or hit the alarm
You know we're friends 'till we die

He did his best to listen, to be the representative that he was entrusted to be. However, Boone had not expected to see his mistake manifested in flesh and blood. They spoke -- empty words of introduction and tidbits of news filled the air. They came in waves, breaking over the ever silent Comandante to dizzying effect. The air itself felt foul, for seated at the table were not but those who had forced him from his childhood home, but the child whom he could give no home to.

She held him; a baby. A baby boy with bright blue eyes. At first he denied it, for how could such a thing happen? Yet, he was no more than a month old. He ran the numbers in his head over and over again and came to the same conclusion every time. The boy was a coyote. For Boone, it was proof enough.

He felt sick. Clutching a tumbler of whisky for dear life, he hoped the liquid fire would still his stomach. It did not.

First, it was the King of the Cavaliers to say his piece, and then Saga. He half listened, instead he stole glances at both the child and the Salsolan delegation, all the while doing his best to conceal his worry. It was only when the silence fell, when Saga returned to her seat, did Boone remember what he had come her for.

A swig, then he stood.

He cleared his throat and stilled himself. The Gang would need to appear strong before the other packs. Such interactions were like walking a tightrope. "Boone Winthrop," he introduced himself. "Comandante of the Del Cenere Gang." Boone then gestured to the man sitting at his left. "My brother, Nazario Del Bosque, Rey Salvaje."

Two boys of old Inferni, cast into a world of thieves.

He would give them no news. Nothing to use, nothing to twist. Though he knew their gang could not be an island as Inferni had been, Boone did not yet feel comfortable divulging much in the company of old enemies. "We're also looking to trade. Got a surplus of goods from down south an' are lookin' to expand."

He looked to his brother, searching to see if he had anything to add.

OOC text here!
Del Cenere Gang
Comandante
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Ryan
Luperci Mate to Dahlia You have to love yourself a fire

POSTED: Tue Oct 29, 2019 11:51 am

my heart was flawed, i knew my weakness

He was uncertain, when it came to the whole ordeal.

Aldora was kind enough, polite - and, when it came down to it, she was down-to-earth, which Nazario could appreciate. The thought, however, of parading around wolf-infested territories, of leaving his Del Cenere -

Why, it was almost too much to bear. Salsola would be there. And, had he any inkling of an idea as to what that meant, they would try to glean all they could off their neighbors. The Rey Salvaje kept his lips tight. His chest somehow, the entire time, felt tighter.

Once the two brothers had set up towards the summit, Boone was the first to speak up after the precursory glimpse about the amassed leaders; the coyotes seemed steely. Measured. Thankfully, Boone afforded little information, presented their unified front.. Quietly, he stood on his terms, alongside the Comandante of his Gang.

"Livestock is always on the table for trade. We've got horses to spare," Nazario added, his single-eyed gaze drifting over towards Saga and her child, and to the Lune - glimpsing over the drink that Boone nursed, he found himself disapproving - wits needed to be sharp, quick as a whip; old habits died hard deaths. He would have to welcome the adversity.

"Forgive us for our tight-lipped manners," he offered, trying to keep his clipped interactions at the very least, polite. "We are open to discussions in regards to the commissionin' of our stills, or trade opportunities, should that be of interest t' anyone."

Nazario made his move to sit again, folding his hands on the table.

--| [wc — 000] template by hilli
Del Cenere Gang
Rey Salvaje
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Despi
Luperci
⤜GodlesS→

POSTED: Sun Nov 17, 2019 7:04 am

Word Count → ??? :: sorry for the wait, y'all! better late than never! tl;dr only the last two paragraphs are actually important lol.

At the round table in the room in the heart of a very old foe, the two Salsolan leaders seemed uncannily at ease.

Their arrival here had been - and remained - unprecedented. As a matter of fact, the whole occurrence was made of unlikely choices, a string of them like beads on a throng. Maybe it had started with Teagan Stryder; How she had been able to convince her father and the knight's court to allow serpents into their home was surely the stuff of fable, not reality. The invitation was a strange outlier in a historically mutual relationship of mistrust and ire.

Her grandmother would never have accepted it. This much, Elphaba Revlis was certain. Thoughtful and reserved, she sat in silence, the calculating dart of her cochineal eyes betraying an otherwise serene expression on her face. The young queen's hands were folded in her lap demurely. Everything about her was calm, purposeful, driven by a confidence that surpassed the borders of arrogance and roamed into the Otherworldly.

Some choices were divine providence. It was her choice that had led them here, and the zealousness of her Craft buoyed her decision.

There were knights all around them; Not in the room, perhaps, but two guards at the door, and an uncountable number between her and the Salsolans who had made their inauspicious camp in the neutral land to the north. But Elphaba did not feel alone, nor vulnerable at all. O'Riley was a wall made flesh at her side, towering and rich with youth, vigor, strength. It had not been so long ago that they had tested the true mettle of one another. She would have no better weapon to guard her sacred life.

At the head of the table, Teagan's father was speaking. The Lune was an interesting man. Elphie liked the way he spoke, the way his golden eyes watched them all. She was reminded of an animal her grandfather had described in childhood stories, a big, regal tawny-maned cat from a faraway sunscorched land. It was a colorful thought that made the corners of her black lips curl.

He was not Alistair, that much was certain. Placid in her silence, the Boss listened and absorbed, and learned everything about his mannerisms that she could. Such things would be important later, she knew. There were fine meats and wines on the table, but the Salsolan delegation had only an insatiable hunger for information.

Next spoke a mottled woman who swiftly identified herself as a D'Angelo - the D'Angelo, if her intel had the right of it. Ankh's daughter, Outpost-born and with blood that had old ties to the Thistle Kingdom. She had a bairn rocking in her arms, a little squalling boy who quietened for some jerky. A child that her grandmother would have taken in due course, now destined to serve a different allegiance among those of Mistfell Vale.

Head canted to one side in curiosity, Elphaba fancied that in another life she might have liked Saga. The woman spoke directly, but there was something clever in her that called back to the old ways. It was little wonder that she had risen to rule among her chosen people - This fact served only to reinforce the superiority that was so deeply entrenched in Salsola's culture.

Next it was the coyotes' turn. Two brothers, if their word was to be believed. She didn't see a familial resemblance, but sometimes a vow could be thicker than blood.

However... Boone Winthrop.

She fixed the young grey-maned man with the fullness of her attention, red as overripe fruit and just as sickly-sweet. The Del Cenerens had risen from the ashes of old Inferni, ashes that she was in no small part responsible for - And they looked the part, thoroughly yote and just as uneasy as she had ever remembered the firebrands to be. Hidden in her lap, Elphaba's fingers twisted together. She felt rather than saw O'Riley's attentiveness spike beside her. It seemed like there were more enemies than friends waiting for them here - it was fortunate she had spoken with clever Athras beforehand to secure his discretion.

Sometimes fires took a long time to burn out. Little coals drifted away on the wind, skipping through badlands to nestle somewhere soft, somewhere verdant, and strike the blaze anew.

When the one-eyed man called Nazario took his seat again, the queen let her stare linger just a little too long.

Then she stood, graceful and sharp. The simple yet wellmade clothes she wore rustled with the movement, long sleeves parting so that her fingertips could lightly trace across the tabletop. She ran her tongue over her teeth and in the little silence regarded each man and woman who sat at the table; A tithe on their time, minor but daring nonetheless.

Finally she spoke. "So gracious it is," Slit pupils flicked toward Luca, and she offered him a slight nod, "To be welcomed here by such honorable, charitable hosts. We will not forget your generosity, Lune," Salsola's memory was very long - too long, perhaps. She smiled winsomely, and held one palm flat to her curved chest. "Elphaba Revlis, Boss of Salsola, queen of the Thistle Kingdom. My Second, here," Impossible to miss, the lavender-eyed man was a bristling and implacable statue at her side, "- is Erilaz O'Riley Eternity. We are so pleased to see new neighbors settling on the mainland, on the peninsula, near and far," Her gaze swept over the New Caledonian delegate and away again; She tapped one finger pensively on the tabletop.

"Our harvest season was bountiful. We are prepared for the long winter. If a dark night comes where you or yours are cold, hungry, destitute, or taken by sickness, do come find us. There is so much wealth to be shared among good friends," All the sweetness in the world could not hide the terrible truths lurking behind her innocent words; Everyone seated at the table knew something of the real nature of Salsola, of its mercilessness and its strife. "For a price, of course," Elphaba added, before delicately resuming her seat.

Last edited by Elphaba Revlis on Fri Dec 06, 2019 10:48 pm, edited 1 time in total.

we need a forest fire
Salsola
The Boss
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Alaine
Luperci Witch she hath or consulteth with a familiar spirit the queen is dead, long live the queen
hierophant
burn the witch
↟ ↟ ↟

POSTED: Tue Nov 26, 2019 5:26 pm

[935]

Dark liquid swirled tempest-like in its cup, grasped in pale fingers, the Lord swished it idly as each leader spoke their peace. While it was far more clever to abstain from all vices in the company of the mighty, Athras Eryn was a man whom when temptation was set in his path often reached for it with greedy fingers. It was no different now, though he kept in mind the quantity of his intake and denied himself a second cup.

The Lune spoke first, and Athras— without bearing or experience to judge this turn of events— decided then that this would be a dull affair. His wolfish ears were forward, however, as he listened with rapt attention, taking note of what might interest both himself and his pack: in that very order. Horses were a commodity of great intrigue, and his brows furrowed at the word of strange flowers. And so it continued much the same as a woman rose next, pelt the ink-dark of midnight, her markings a reflection of the night sky.

Saga, her name was, clutched a babe in her arms and spoke concisely, stating her case with the crisp appeal of a winter’s morn. Names he did not recognize nor care to fell from her lips and so his attention quickly waned.

Following her, a coyote-blooded pair rose one after the other. Athras found himself looking at them a little more closely, lips tugging ever so slightly at their corners not for the information they gave but for that which they withheld. They bucked the norms set before them by the other leaders who spoke equally of their strengths and weaknesses, the failings and worth of their people. Having witnessed the stolen glances his gaze passed slowly to the Salsolan delegation. Both of whom were sitting quite comfortably though a predator could recognize the gleam in their blood and lilac eyes. He tilted his head to one side, smoothing a lock of dark silk hair down one shoulder, and wondered.

She rose next in all her great and terrible power and his head returned to the center. He swirled the contents of his cup once more before tipping it to his lips and there he met the lingering gaze of the Salsolan queen. Cool cyan to virulent red he held it, hiding the slow sensual smile that formed at the corners of his clever mouth with his cup, tongue sliding across his lips once he lowered the vessel back down. He committed the interactions between Boss and Lune to memory, perhaps anticipating its weight and relevance for the future. The rest he knew already— intimately even, though not quite as intimately as he would have liked. However, time was in their favor and Caleodnia was already reaping the benefits of their wealthy benefactors. He aimed for that to continue. Though this knowledge he kept quiet and comfortably within his breast.

The queen resumed her seat as gracefully as she’d taken her feet and Athras felt the weight of expectation settle upon him, the last of their group to speak. It was not an uncomfortable thought though he did pause to lay his hand across the solidity of bone and sharp-edge of metal- a secret boon he held above all at the table, save the solitary Cavalier. For all his desire to flaunt their weakness before them for the chaos it might cause Athras denied his vanity just this once.

“Oh, is it my turn?” The Lord-Regent grinned impishly and took his time, reveling in the thrill of their anticipation as he slowly settled his cup on the table. When he stood it was with a rustle of clothing. The russet robe he wore settled about him gracefully, tailored specifically to his svelte frame. Overtop he wore a dark leather vest with a v-neck and high fur-lined collar that accentuated his long neck and sharp, aristocratic features. He smoothed the trim with a long motion of his hand before securing them all in his intelligent eyes, muzzle split with a smile of warmth and welcome.

"I am Athras Eryn, Lord-Regent of New Caledonia here on behalf of his Majesty the High King Iomair Nartholiel,” He introduced, giving the subtlest slightest bow for he recognized no authority but his own and his King’s. “What can I say of New Caledonia?" he continued thoughtfully rifling through history and the memories of their pack’s formation. “We’ve no harvest to share, nor the boons of great wealth. Indeed, we formed a handful of refugees fled from a homeland now in cinders.”

“But I won’t bore you with our history.” He smiled again, knowing. “It should encourage you to know we’ve since picked up the remnants of your fallen kingdoms- a few of the Shoal fill our ranks, as well as others from far-flung realms. We have little to share, in truth, but so very much potential.” Theatric, his gaze passed from face to face. “For we boast among our numbers soldiers and smiths, craftsmen and mariners, shepherds and horse masters, entertainers as well as people of great faith.” In his mind he saw the face of his god, withered and bony, verdant and wilting willing him on.

"I look forward to getting to know each and every one of you, for my people do not soon forget good friends. And know this…" He did not linger on any face in particular and divided his time equally on each pair of eyes. "Everything you offer in trade we will repay tenfold, on that, you have my word." And with that he smiled and returned to his chair.


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Stormie
Luperci Spring Spree 2020
you'll be mine

POSTED: Fri Dec 06, 2019 9:00 pm

They gathered around the table. For his own part, O'Riley watched – it was his duty before all else to ensure that Elphaba made it through this visit unharmed. Anything less would risk their own infallible rule.

She seemed to sense this too. They had talked very little about what they would and would not do, but there was an understanding between them. For this reason, he endured the presence of Outsiders and lowly thieves. He made his displeasure towards the Cenere delegation plain, but restrained himself from doing more than glare at the two coyotes.

The old man – Luca Knight – led the assembled around with his words, but O'Riley knew plenty already.

What they didn't know came to light little by little. The gray-haired coyote kept looking at them, and at the traitorous D'Angelo woman from the Vale. The man from New Caledonia pretended not to know them.

He stiffened when Boone introduced himself, and lingered too long in the shadow of Elphaba. Silenced by his own thoughts, O'Riley found Athras already speaking by the time he settled. When the pleasantries ended, the Erilaz lifted his own voice – he did not stand like his Queen, and imagined this would make the difference between them apparent.

Would that offer extend to us, eh? He called over to the coyotes. Then, turning from them as if he did not care for the answer, O'Riley turned his gaze back to the Cavalieri leader. You had those flowers growing here? He asked. In your lands?

Everybody hit the ground
avatar art: alaine

Salsola
The Erilaz
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Mel
'Souls Assemblage Luperci Informatore & Cazador LET ME IN
a tightening atrocity
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