Closed A Call to Unity

[Meadow]

Spring 10th 517 A.V.

Thomas Heartsong sat on his bed pallet thinking about the events of the last season. The Vantha had been a hunted people and still possibly hunted outside of Endrykas in other cities. He knew that the hunt had not been called off in the home of the Horselords. All of the turmoil ripped his heart in half, not only have people been hunted like animals, but his own people had been ripped in half and pitted against one another. Even after everything that happened at the end of Winter there was still an animosity among them. The young man wanted to do something in order to heal his people or put their minds at ease some. Sighing he rubbed his face before preparing for the day. After eating with his wives and little ones, the young man walked outside the pavilion and mounted up. Riding over to the Conclave he observed the people around him. Many were just getting up or had even been up for hours. Everyone seemed to be having a hard time bouncing back to their normal routine. So many were on edge and almost appeared paranoid. An idea hit the young man like a rock; excited the man pushed his mount faster easily dodging around many of the people. Once at the conclave he dismounted and rushed in shouting his idea.

“A TRIATHALON!” Thomas shouted with glee.

Several members of the conclave jumped not realizing the young had arrived so suddenly. Eli cleared his throat and stood up trying to get the drykas to calm down long enough that someone could understand what he was saying. Taking a deep breath the ankal forced himself to speak slow, clear words that all could hear.

“A triathalon. A series of games that the people can be involved in. I think it would help ease everyone's nerves and get out pent up frustration,” the young man urged.

“Like what kind of games?” Pratal said in a low growl.

“Archery, a horseback race, and even a wrestling tournament. That is plenty to have most of the city participating, music and food can be provided to keep the mood lite and relaxed,” Thomas stated and looked to Eli and Cyrus hoping they would agree.

After several chimes of hushed talk the two ankals agree with the Opal Ankal and decide to put it to a vote. Once more Pratal is out voted, almost all agreed that the events would be a great idea. Thomas offered to pitch the idea while making a speech about unity and the games. An excited murmur coursed through most of the members as they agreed. Sending out word immediately, the rumor mill of old women began working over time. Soon the entire city knew about the call and waited with excitement at the Wind Knotted Gates. Thomas Heartsong looked out at the crowd and took a deep breath. He was normally watching Eli or Cyrus giving speeches that brought their people together. Now though it was his turn. The elder emerald clan leader could tell the young ankal was nervous.

“You will do fine. Believe in your words, and they will too,” Eli spoke before stepping back.

With a smile the young man strode out and stood directly between the gates. Before him stood most of the city if not all of it. Worried, scared, and even some angry faces looked to him to guide them. Taking a deep breath, he began.

“I..I,” Thomas gulped choking some clearing his voice. The man forced strength and assurance into it.

“I am Thomas Heartsong, ankal of the Opal clan and Conclave member. I come before you now as not only a leader, but as one of you. Hardship is no stranger to us; we dance with it every day of our lives. But the last several seasons have been very hard on all of the city and the Sea of Grass. From the loss of Morwen to the hunt of the Vantha to the return of Jonas Pridesun then the appearance of not only Zulrav himself but Semele as well. So much has changed for us. The coming seasons will be far harder without Winter to replenish everything. In order for us to survive, we must put our pasts behind us if we are to survive,” Thomas stated and stopped long enough to let everyone absorb what he said. Taking another deep breath the man continued a little more comfortable now.

“The other Conclave members and I have decided to hold a Spring Triathalon. It will consist of three games archery, where participants will shoot at three targets that vary in distance from their line; next will be a half mile horseback race off to the west, riders will race to a marked pile of rocks circle them and return, lastly is a two part event, it is an unarmed and armed wrestling competition. It is time we all work off some steam and have fun. Any who are not going to participate are more than welcome to come and cheer on the competitors and enjoy food and drinks provided by several pavilions within the city,” Thomas stated and smiled hearing everyone cry out in excitement and anticipation, “the event will be held ten days from now. With that I thank you all for coming and cannot wait to see who signs on.”

[Ashka Windrunner]

Her body bounced lazily against the yvas pads, along with each of the Strider's step. She held on the black mane as the pair trotted towards Endrykas and its hustle. They were less than a bell of walk from it, but rider and mount enjoyed this stroll away from the nervousness afflicting the Moving City these past days. After the bloodshed of last Winter, tensions crippled the relationships between Pavilions, between Drykas and walahks. Ashka was glad she managed to be out for the morning.

Syna's light danced on her back, a welcomed feeling in this windy morning. She let out a sigh of contentment; in the Drykas' eyes, few things in this world could top a sunny morning ride in the grasslands. Lako as well enjoyed their short promenade. His rider could feel the Strider's vigorous body move with energy, revitalized from running with his father Zulrav. As they arrived closer to their destination, the girl straightened up and, shifting her weight on the stallion's back, oriented him towards the purple and lavender area of the star-shaped city.

The pair soon found their way to the Windrunner Pavilion, where Haliwe awaited their arrival. She was planning to turn the trophies of the hunt in a nourishing meal for the family. Returning her greeting with a smile, Ashka swinged a leg over her steed's back and dismounted. She untied the hare from her yvas, lonely reward found in one of her traps this morning, and handed it to her stepsister. As the two were about to go on their own tasks, a voice rose, calling for attention.

In a blur of hooves and wild manes, Kelis materialized in the camp, loose blonde locks framing her enthusiastic expression. Halok halted with a skid that sent dust swirling in the air.
As the young girl jumped off her Strider, each pair of eyes around fixed on her with an indulgent smile, waiting to see what the boisterous girl had to say.

"Everybody, come to the Wind-knotted Gates ! They say Thomas Heartsong has an announcement to make and is calling everyone over !" Panting, the girl took a chime to catch her breath, hands frenetically signing for others to gather, join, listen. Excitment was clearly brightening her features; around the pavilion however, several faces expressed their concern about the nature of this announcement. All remembered the message from last Winter, the disappearance of Morwen and Gods' servants asking for the massacre of the Vantha people. Some clearly feared another such tragedy.

For Ashka, curiosity brushed aside all apprehension she might have and channeled her thoughts into imagining what the Opal Clan Ankal would have to say. She jumped back onto Lako and steered him towards the center of the Tent City. The columns were rising above every tent and thus easy to find. She pressed her calves around his flanks briefly, sending him into a trot. Around them, Drykas from all seven Clans were moving towards the Gates as well, willing to hear Thomas' call.

There, the Strider stopped and both awaited, gazes turned to the Ankal facing the crowd.
Thomas started, first hesitant, but as he continued speaking his voice gained in strength and confidence. He spoke of last season's difficulties, of the tough future to come because of the absence of winter. A few people nodded but most remained silent, still unsure of the topic of his speech.

At the mention of the Triathlon, there was a certain change in the atmosphere. Relief, joy, anticipation, the Drykas people answered this announcement with cheers and cries of joy. Ashka sighted and relaxed in her yvas, happy to learn about the event. A genuine smile curled her lips; the Horseclans needed to ease off on the pressure, and the challenges were indeed a great way to achive that. She knew she would not participate but couldn't wait to watch the contest. She glanced around her briefly; she was almost certain Caith would compete, but who else ?

Pavi Grassland sign | Common | Nari

[Kalmor Bloodrazor]

10th of Spring, 517 A.V.

Kalmor Bloodrazor tiredly walked back to his pavilion, his feet kicking the dirt ground. He had spent a long time hunting out in the sea of grass, trying to claim any animal that came in sight. He started early in the morning, thinking that the kills would be plenty. Unfortunately, there were a lot of problems with animal hunting in the morning day, some that Kalmor were too embarrassed to admit out loud, so all he could get were two measly rabbits.

Many could argue that just two rabbits weren't a bad prize for hunting, but Kalmor hated them. He always strove to be the best at everything he did, and two bunny rabbits didn't show that he was the best. What he would've liked was a large buck that he had to have at least three men to carry back to his home. Unfortunately, it seemed like no such thing existed in this world. Maybe if he was a better hunter, he would be able to claim that legendary game. Sadly, he was mediocre at best, so he would have to settle with two measly rabbits.

As Kalmor walked through the Emerald clan, he noticed that many Drykas were beginning to migrate. It was an oddity among the clan, since Kalmor did not remember a scheduled gathering. He decided to stop the nearest Drykas he saw, a young boy by the age of 13 with one windmark on his shoulder. Kalmor knew the boy's name well: Tyr of the Freewing pavilion. Kalmor had spent some time teaching Tyr how to use a bow and arrow, so they both developed a strong friendship with each other.

"Boy!" Kalmor called out, trying to grab the boy's attention. "What is with the rush?"

Tyr seemed to be in a hurry, so he only responded with few words before running away. "Announcement from the Ankals! Big! Important! At the gates!"

Kalmore tilted his head at Tyr's words, but connected enough information to understand. So something was happening with the Ankals? Must've been really important if all of Endrykas were attending. To not be among the crowd was like committing a sin to Kalmor, so he followed the group.

Eventually, Kalmor arrived among the mass of people that gathered. Standing at the very center was the youngest Ankal among the Conclave, Thomas Heartsong.

The young leader of the opal clan announced a great amount of information, but most of it focused on what Thomas called the "Spring Triathlon," a competition where the best of the best could show off their skills. Automatically, this made Kalmor excited, and he was among the many that cheered out in delight at the idea.

The thought that there would be many people competing, all offering their talent to the public, was very thrilling. There was so much he could prove from these games, and so much that he could learn too. Kalmor would make sure that he signed up for this event.

[/center]

[Jez Firetongue]

Jez Firetongue 10th of Spring 517 AV Pavi/Grassland Sign , Common, Nari ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ Jez sat cross legged, lost in his thoughts as he stared at the mesmerising yellows and oranges of the flickering flames. Paranoia and fear made Endrykas feel much darker nowadays, with widespread concerns over potential lasting impacts of the Vantha hunt and loss of Winter. Jez, who wanted his people to be happy and thrive, was as much a victim of the fear as anyone else. His source of solace came from the continued survival of all members of his Pavilion into the Spring season. “Jez,” a quiet, raspy voice brought him back to the present, “Are you listening?” The Drykas looked up and across the fire to his brother Salva, four years his junior, with a guilty grin. The frail man was supposed to be teaching him to cook, but Jez’s thoughts kept wondering. “Sorry brother,” he apologised, “I was just thinking about…you know…” City, Winter, future, he signed out the explanation, brow furrowed as his eyes lowered to the flame again. “Jez, focus on right now,” Salva advised him, “You aren’t helping anyone by sitting here thinking.” Not many people would listen to a Drykas that rarely left the main Pavilion tent, a man whose main role was record keeping outside of trying to fight off a stream of illnesses. Jez, however, had long ago realised that Salva’s different perspective on life was grounding and he reminded their family to live each day to the fullest. “You’re right,” he nodded, focusing back on his brother, “Let’s continue cooking. If I’m to survive the journey to Riverfall I will need to get a hang of this.” They had already covered how to start a fire with his flint and steel, and Salva was now teaching Jez how to make a spit to cook meat. “Okay, so you want to look for sticks that fork near the end so you can rest the third stick, the one the meat will be on, over them without the structure falling over,” Salva explained, gesturing to the relevant sticks beside Jez. Taking the cue, he picked up the two forked sticks, planting them into the ground either side of the fire with a little force to ensure they stayed stood. He took one of the two small fish they had already prepared and speared a straight stick through it, placing it over the fire. “A success!” he cheered, throwing his hands above his head in an over the top gesture that had his brother laughing. After a moment of shared amusement the teaching resumed. “If you can’t find any forked branches you’ll have to knot together multiple straight ones to make a similar shape.” He gestured to the remaining sticks beside Jez, and signed go ahead and rope. Jez picked up two of them and a stretch of thin rope, taking a moment to keep the correct angle of the sticks, and tied a simple square lash a quarter of the way down the sticks. He repeated the action on another pair of sticks and stuck the two structures into the ground, on opposite sides of the fire and beside the first spit. He speared the second fish with the final branch beside him and put it over the second spit. “Perfect,” Salva smiled, looking at the two spits, “Now we just need to wait until they’re cooked, rotating the branches every now and then to make sure the meat is cooked on all sides.” The pair were settling in to wait for the meal to be ready when their mother rode up on her white Strider mare. “Jez,” she called, knowing her message would cause no change to Salva’s day, “Rumour tells that the Clans are gathering at the Gates. Perhaps you can go and report back.” Jez bit his lip, nervous about the reason for a gathering, but nodded. He called his Strider over and draped the cloth pad and yvas over his back. He couldn’t help but fear another slaughter was being ordered…who would it be next? “To the gates, Wind,” he told the stallion as he mounted, gently squeezing his calves against the sandy dun sides to urge him on. Within half a bell of gentle trotting he was amidst a small crowd of his Amethyst kin, all heading to the center. As he grew closer to the ribboned poles he saw the gathered crowd of mounted and unmounted Drykas, various other citizens, and city visitors. The poles were taller than the crowd, a permanent visual representation of the Drykas residents. His own ribbon was attached to the right one, dyed purple for his Clan, having been placed there upon his bonding to Wind. Jez was glad for the crowd for it greatly reduced his chances of running into Yantra, the Matchmaker. She was lovely, the kind of person he usually appreciated, but she was often found at the Gates and her self-designated life purpose was less appreciated. He tried to avoid her, not wanting her opinion on which woman he should be matched with. Left to his own devices he would not match with any, but this was not an accepted lifestyle in Endrykas, and so his method for now was avoidance, of both Yantra and of thinking about it in general. Jez spotted Thomas Heartsong between the Gates and dismounted his stallion to listen to the announcement. He didn’t know much about the Opal Clan’s nominated leader, but the man’s reputation was a gentle one so he liked him on principal. The Drykas smiled as Thomas’ speech started strong; he always liked when a leader spoke as one of the community, wanting the best for all of them. The smile dropped as Thomas continued by speaking out loud what he had feared, that the coming seasons would be much harder thanks to a lack of Winter. Jez sighed but remained resolute to worship his deities, especially to pray to Caiyha for guidance in helping his people work as part of nature within the Sea for the following seasons. Expecting the speech to go downhill, Jez was among the Drykas that cheered in happy surprise when Thomas announced the reason for the gathering; a Triathlon was to be held. He laughed, thinking about the joy the games would bring to their people. It sounded like a fun time and a good way to see old friends. Archery would be tough, given his lack of practise for the last few years, so would require a bit of prior training. He had also never wrestled, so definitely wouldn’t risk the armed wrestling, but was happy to try an unarmed match. He was confident about the horse race. The Amethyst Clan were known for breeding speedy Striders, blessed by Zulrav’s guidance, and he had acquired his steed from one of these breeders. Their bond aided their speed, allowing them to work as one under the Gods while Wind tapped into the Web. Of course, he’d likely be against other bonded pairs so the race would come down to each Striders’ speed and their rider’s skill. With ten days until the Triathlon, Jez was excited and would be sure to get in some practise for each even. The Drykas looked around, wondering who else would be taking part. He beamed as he spotted Kalmor and made his way through the crowd to the man. Wind followed closely behind, ears flicking in all directions at the noise of the crowd. He had known Kalmor for five years and would enjoy some friendly competition against him. Finally reaching his friend, Jez put a hand out to rest on Kalmor’s shoulder. “Hello there, friend,” he greeted, “What do you think of the Triathlon? Do you think you’ll compete?” ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ || Jez Firetongue || 25 years || Drykas || Amethyst Clan || Firetongue Pavilion || Strider-Wind || The Heart of Nature Soothes the Heart of Man More Than Any Woman Can

[Madeira Dusk]

Grades Awarded!

Don't forget to edit/delete your grade request!

Ashka Windrunner

Skills

• Riding: 1xp
• Observation: 1xp

Lores

• City Event: Triathlon!
• City Event: a show of unity

Awards & Retribution


Notes
Wasn't much I could award here, unfortunately. But if there were lores you were expecting that I sailed over, please let me know and I'd be happy to fix it.

Kalmor Bloodrazor

Grade witheld. Once you have paid your Spring 517 living expenses contact me and I'll be able to post your grade.

Jez Firetongue

Skills

• Wilderness Survival- Plains: 1xp
• Cooking: 1xp
• Observation: 1xp

Lores

• City Event: Triathlon!
• City Event: a show of unity
• Cooking: making a spit

Awards & Retribution


Notes