P-Jay

*breaks door with axe*

guess who's baaaaack...~?

I'm concepting an oc I'd like to enter in here. XD

Featherfur huffed as the unrecognized cat spoke in a strangely euphonious manner, lashing his tail but listening to what he had to say.

"No, we haven't," he confirmed with an unamused growl. "And if you're even considering venturing onto our territory to search for whoever he is..."

Featherfur stopped to realize that the Thunderclan patrol would be arriving at the border any second now, and they were bound to notice the mystery cat. He'd have to flee one way or another, and not onto Riverclan territory, either.

The cat smiled sheepishly. "Hey...It's for my kid sibling, surely you can let me just have a skim over your territory." He took a step forward. "Lemme just poke around a bit, wont even take a day."

Mousepaw growled, taking a step forward towards the rouge. "We don't have time to humor someone like you, now beat it!" 

Featherfur hissed again at the mystery cat. He kept on glancing over at Flameheart, and was now aware that a Thunderclan patrol would probably also be beginning to head out, too.

'And Thunderclan are a curious bunch,' he thought. 'They'll likely be quite inquisitive and eager to find out what happened... Like they haven't already guessed.'

The cat approached them, just behind their border, on Thunderclan territory, and smiled pleasantly from where he was. "...Heyo!" He called out, waving a paw slightly. "I'm looking for someone, a kitten, about ye tall--" he gestured the height with his tail, "--obnoxious fellow, orange-pelted. You seen him?"

Mousepaw narrowed her eyes, backing slightly behind Featherfur. "I don't like him." She muttered.

"A good story, disturbs the comfortable, and comforts the disturbed." 

~idfk

@@The Down Trotten, @@DwhitetheGamer,  

As the trio would continue their trek onward to the mountain, they would find that the grass would begin to appear greener, fresher. The trees, taller, stronger. The very wind, cleaner, crisper. 

Almost as if the area was giving the group one last look at a joyful environment, before whatever would be revealed on the mountain. It felt almost like the calm, before a storm, before the cave Rhetoric was informed of, came into view in the distance. It looked normal, like any other cave in the world, even. But the defining feature wasn't the cave itself--it was the immediate ground around it--swords, stuck into the ground like pincushions, surrounded the entrance, obviously marking the cave as a dangerous exploration to take. 

Everywhere else, was simple paths leading either away, or towards the cave. There were no hopes, for circling around, to avoid the interior altogether--it seemed one must go through the dwelling, before arriving at the base of the mountain itself. 

A broken slab of stone was placed alongside the swords, near it...

@,

Likely, to Mori alone, the chanting of the spirits around her would begin to feel layered. As if there were more then what she normally had--before seeing a group, in front of her. It wouldn't last long, barely even five seconds, but the vision would be clear. 

She was seeing a moment of the past. A group of friends, companions, trekking towards the mountain. It seemed whatever magic the mountain housed, stretched it's influence even beyond it's base. 

A large-muscled minotaur led the group, wearing traditional armor, battered and worn--he radiated such authority, one couldn't help but associate him as the leader of the group. Followed closely by a griffon clad in foreign armor, sword at his side, shield coating his wing. Another griffon, in dark leather padding, bow slung over his back, and markings of various kills on his person, trailed behind the two. A knight, and a hunter, respectively. 

Behind them, ponies followed--one with minimal armor, and a blade, another with a thick pelt, and greathammer on his back. Both of which, looked formidable in their own right. The swordsman, and heavy. 

But only one, seemed to be the odd one out. A doe, that trailed behind the group, looked back momentarily. And from where she was, she just so happened to stare directly into Mori's eyes, before continuing on her way--disappearing into a mist, alongside her companions, before the glimpse to the past dispersed. 

Luster began to focus on ripping each rope from it's mooring.  When the collapsed mast was now unfettered, Luster tied those loose ropes to herself. Once she turned the rigging to a makeshift harness, she kicked on her thrusts and rocketed up, carrying her makeshift cargo into the air. Higher and higher she would go. 

 

In about a minute and a half, she was now at 30,000 feet. She looked down, zooming in on the ship below. "The anchor had been set, so it wouldn't be going anywhere. Only one way to go." she shut off her thrusters, and fell with her mast. Faster and faster they would go, terminal velocity of 122 mph being reached in 15 seconds. 75 seconds left.

 

"Not good enough." She kicked her thrusters back on and charged straight down. 75 seconds was cut down to 25. At 500 mph, the speed of a commercial airliner, she dived. Firing a stabilizer and adjusting a wing, she put spin on her mast. 10 seconds, she let go and parted ways with her newfound implement. She spread her wings and and arched back up over the water, encircling the ship. 

 

5 seconds till Luster's makeshift massive stake impacted the ship. Four. Three. Two-

It impacted, and immediately tore straight through, spiraling a few moments even after it's force was exhausted. 

Moments later, sounds of leaking would be heard, as water gushed into the massive hole ripped through the hull. A light cackling sounded inside, as wheeling about was heard amongst the intense storm of sheer, unrelenting water forcing it's way into the ship--which started to sink.

"Missed me..."

Time to make some challenges in the mountain.  

Windclan camp, midday.

Featherfur roamed Windclan's territory with his apprentice by his side, wondering if everyone injured back at the camp was doing alright. and keeping his head held high, nose alert for any antagonistic scents, glancing over at Riverclan's ground every now and again.

Mousepaw prowled alongside her mentor, keeping a watchful eye over their territory, noting how her mentor would occasionally stare at Riverclan. So she opted to mimic, snarking at the border every once in a while, as if she expected to see a badger whenever she did indeed steal a glance. 

"Featherfur...I see someone!" She hissed, watching a vague cat from the Riverclan territory casually making his way directly towards Windclan. A white-silver tom, with black spots on his pelt, was waltzing towards the two. 

Well, let's try this again and hope l won't fall victim again.... I AM BACK! <3 Bangcolters <3

Seeing as no-one responded to this, and the fact that you haven't posted since, I guess I'll just assume you're waiting for an 'OK' to post. So, uh, welcome back. XD try not to spontaneously leave without notice again, eh?

Speaking of which, I really need to post...Eh, I'll do it tomorrow. That fight has dragged on long enough.

Rye woke up from his nap, looking about his surroundings lazily. Where was he, again...?

Oh yeah. Riverclan territory.

Or was it Thunderclan's? He didn't know--all he did know right now, was that these rocks were absolutely perfect for basking in the sun. He rolled about, on the Sunning Rocks. 

"...Something tells me consequence for trespassing is approaching faster then I can weasel out..." He murmured to himself, licking a paw. "...Ah, oh well."

@@Wolves, 

did you see my post in the ooc? XD

...okay. i do realize that i kinda came back, said id post, and left again. 

and im real sorry 'bout that. at least, i THINK i am

ill intro another character, for Windclan. Redear isn't the easiest to interact with, after all. hopefully this'll make it easier. XD

Name: Mousepaw

Age: Seven moons

Gender: Female

Rank: Apprentice

Appearance: Sleek, small, she has a light brown pelt, with a lighter-still tail that swishes often. She has a few splotches on her head, with brown eyes. But appearances can be deceiving--she's a fierce fighter. 

History: Born and raised in Windclan--not much else. 

Other: She harbors a dream to become the Clan leader, and strives to push herself to higher lengths, in the pursuit of said dream.

"Well, good sir, I plan on approaching this mountain in a whole new light. Thank you for the warning Who knows, I may think better of it and come down half way if I'm able, but I must try, there is much more then my own glory at stake here I believe so if you'd be so kind to lead me to the cave my journey can begin" 

 

Rhetoric took the warning to heart, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't nervous, but somehow he still has his resolve about him and if he went soon he knew he could start his quest and once he started he doubted he'd be able to stop 

"...I...Would prefer not to. I'm on the clock, running this inn, and truth be told I don't wanna get near that mountain. You can't miss it--a beaten path near the North of town, it'll eventually lead you towards a cave. That cave is a one-way route into it."

He paused. "Don't get me wrong, I would love to accompany you, but..." He sighed. "...That kind of life scares me. A life outside my little town here."

Rhetoric laughed but as he saw the griffon was serious he sobered "Oh... well thank you kindly, but I've made up my mind, and I'm going on up for better or worse. If i may ask, why are you so concered with me? Do I appear to be the type wh can't handle the mountain?

 

I mean, I won't be offended, because I'm not, I'm just curious really"   

"I dunno what you're capable of. For all we know you might be a Lord of unimaginable power, or a normal pony like you've appeared to be so far. All I do know is that very, very scarcely does someone come back down from there. It's been suicide for the past twenty or so comers, and it's just depressing to see them head towards there and not come back."

"But, hey, you must have your reasons. And I can respect that."

Rhetoric blinked and smiled "This is above and beyond what I could hope for... if I do come down alive, indeed if I come down at all, I'll make sure to do my best to repay you kind sir." he equipped the various items, feeling much more prepared then the bare bones pony he was before

 

"so I suppose I should start my journey now" he sighed and chuckled "I take it theres an obvious trail up the mountain?" 

"Take the northern path out of this place. It'll lead you to the entrance of a cave--you gotta go through there, to get to the main trail. After of which, provided there's nothing to stop you, it'll be a few days before you reach the top, if you're just walking. You can probably find berries and edibles on there, so I wouldn't worry about running out of food. At least, so I'm told."

He sighed. "I really don't like knowing you're going up there. Jus' sayin'."

Rhetoric laughed "Good sir, I don't think so, I've made my mind and frankly I would prefer not to know everything about the moutain... But thank you kind sir, I appreciate the concern though. However I am determined to go up... so I still must inquire about that hatchet sir" Rhetoric pulled over the jacket onto his frame and smiled   

"...Ah. Well, can't blame a guy for tryin', eh?" He made an attempt at a smile, although, it was more likely he was thinking what flowers would look good on Rhetoric's tombstone. "Gimme a second..." He pulled a box from behind the counter, "now, my dad's a hunter, and he's recently given me a few tools to start my own hunts, but...I can just get more, eventually, you need these more then I do." 

He slid the box towards Rhetoric, inside of which would be a bowie knife, compass, some rope, and like he requested, a brand-new hatchet. Although, it looked like someone had combined the properties of the tomahawk into this hatchet--possibly a type of weapon native to griffons. "Best of luck, friend. I'll be praying to the gods for your return." 

Rhetoric smiled broadly "Why thank you sir, hopefully you should have a chord of wood before the sun falls" he trotted outside and saw the small pile of logs that needed to be split and with a snort of happiness picked up the near by axe and began to spilt the wood.

 

Such chores were tedious and boring and sweat inducing but considering it was a part of his past life and he prided himself on a job well done, the wood was indeed split and stacked within a timely manner, surprisingly before the day was done. When he entered the inn once more, the scholary pony was dripping with sweat and a smile "That should cover for the week more or less. Um before I leave, do you know if there's anyone here willing to trade an old hatchet for some work? I could use anything I can get you see"    

The griffon behind the counter blinked. "The week? I was expectin' a day, or two, three at the most..." He rubbed the back of his head. "Always thought ponies were...Ah, it doesn't matter. You've gotten me out of a chore for a week--thanks, friend. Here's your coat..."

He reached into the closet, pulling out a woolen, puffy jacket--looking like what an Eskimo would wear. "As for...Wait...You're not...?"

He stared for a minute. "...Ah. You, uh...Anything I can say, to change your mind about going up there?"

unfortunately, im going to have to decline this headcanon for this particular rp, because using such methods might feel like an easy 'i win' button, for the mountain. plus, i foresee this mingling badly with both the other RP'er's, and the Dragon.

Rhetoric laughed "you need the money way more then I do, so sounds like a deal to me." he would wait for the transaction to occur and with a thankful bow and one last goodbye to the kind folks trotted outside and searched for the Inn.

 

The small settlement was easy enough to navigate so finding the cozy looking inn was simple. Plodding in he trotted up to main desk "Excuse me I was told I could acquire a jacket here? I don't have any money to pay you, but perhaps I could split some wood, or do some work for you in exchange?" he smiled warmly, hoping to convoy the idea that he indeed worked for most of the things he had in life anyway 

"Best of luck!" The griffon called out after him, as he left. Adding 'he'll definitely need it', once he was out of earshot...

The inn was homely, and radiated a positive vibe. It was surprisingly stocked, as if the majority of the hamlet's people resided inside there. A younger, male griffon sat at the desk, raising an eyebrow when the newcomer asked for a jacket. 

He must be going up the mountain. That's why anyone ever comes around here, anyways. 

"Yeah, we could use some split wood. Gets cold at night this time of year, and I've kinda neglected that chore. I'll trade ya my jacket--it's pretty durable and insulates warmth well, and I just got a new one--no sense keeping both. There's an ax and logs out back, knock yourself out."

His stomach grumbled. He had t had much to eat on the ride here. Looking around, he notice a stall selling what seemed to be rocks. Were those the 'Griffin scones' he had heard so much about?

 

Jack set up a couple of bits on the counter and requested for a Griffin scone, eager to try one. Obviously, some legendary technique had went into making these seemingly rock-looking things edible.

The griffon at the stand looked at him lazily, which almost immediately turned into interest when he dumped the bits onto the counter. She scooped them up, and gave him a Griffon scone in return. "Now with added hay. Tell your friends." She said, obviously trying to go for an energetic voice--but still deadpanning most of it. 

Rhetoric smiled at the older griffon "Thank you ever so kindly sir, if I manage to make it back down alive I promise to share my story with you." he gave a slightly bow and turned to the bartender and out turned his saddle bag dumping a measly 30 bits onto the table "...I hope you take bits here Miss, its all I got, unless of course your willing to barter"  

"I'll be waiting, young'un. It's one of the things I can do best, these days." Still chuckling, the older griffon got up, starting to shuffle back to his original seat. 

She cleaned a mug. "Course we take bits. We also take Leovian coins, if you have any. And with what you've got here...Well, I'll give you a discount. How's a wheel of cheese, and a loaf of bread sound? Hell, I'll throw in a little pot of honey."

Rhetoric finished his stout and placed the mug down, deep in thought with the old griffon's words. "A legend you say?  Hmmmm, I suppose most who treck up the moutain are warriors, fighters of skill yes?" he mused bit more and poked his head into his worn saddle bag 

 

"Tell me, wise story teller, where I could buy rations and a warm coat for this journey, I believe it's time for the moutain to meet a new type of visitor" he stood up from the bar, looking rather determined about the ordeal, was it spur of the moment? Certainly. Did he care? Certainly not.  

"So, you're another who desires to meet the dragon. But you dont strike me as the generic warrior...You've got a different plan. Heheh...I like that."

The old griffon chuckled again. "You can buy a coat, from the innkeeper--and rations are sold in this bar, by the same one who supplied your drink. I wish you luck."

, @DwhitetheGamer

The stallion behind the bar whistled to himself once the two started to talk, making it a point not to get involved in whatever beef might rise. Although, considering the mare's tone, it shouldn't hit the boiling point.

He set the cider in front of Memento, "the train's stopped. Just thought I'd let you two know."

@J.R., @Unicorncob,

The city of Griffonstone was, as usual, a slump. Broken down walls that used to be houses, shattered statues, and scattered griffons stalking about, in search of a profit. Ice, Tyra, and Lorec would be feeling watched. Judged. Their purpose in this city, questioned. 

Nearly all of them looked like an introvert, scavenging for whatever might be of use, on their own. A few intact houses, that were obviously occupied, and loosely guarded against visitors, was seen in the area--but for the most part, it looked as if this place held next to no possible businesses. There was a stand, in which a griffon was selling baked rocks ('Now with added hay for flavor!'), but there wasn't much any else for buying anything. Although, one could probably persuade a griffon to abandon a meal, in exchange for bits...

The tavern of the town was the only spot that could barely be passed as social. But even then, no-one inside it spoke a word to eachother. 

Copper looked confused as all get out at the bartender, then looked at his I.D.  It was true, it was expired.  He smacked himself in the head and said, "Stupid me, I thought I already did it.  Oh well.  Yeah, I'll go with some iced tea, please.  I need to cool down, anyways."

 

He put his expired I.D back in his saddlebag, making a mental note to get his I.D situation fixed.

She took a moment to enjoy the silence before turning to the bartender. "What would you have in stock, master barkeeper? I am not from around here, and I am unfamiliar with this regions' drinks of choice."

"Sure bud." He shuffled around behind the bar, pouring the tea, and serving it up before hearing talking. Looking at the direction, and frowning when he only saw a mare. Strange, he could've sworn he heard that mare talking to someone else. But, considering how he occasionally got a visit from the shadows, talking to a being no-one else could see was nothing new. At least, to him.

"Ma'am, I have a lot of drinks, it depends on what your preference is. Here, I'll scrap up a menu..." 

He slid the plastic towards her. "Though, if I'm being honest, you look like a cider pony to me."

Rhetoric listened intently and drank from his stout "Now, with the understanding  that the world around us is indeed magical. I take it that these legends are actually true. That this moutain can do all you say?" it was obvious the stallion was interested 

 

"If so, I can only imagine the type of crowd it brings to your small community sir. Sounds like the type of moutain folks try to scale, merely because "it's there", of course I am known to make many poor assumptions. So dear teller of stories, would you be so kind to fill in the gaps for me?"   

"See, once we settled here, two generations later...A dragon made an appearance. It was huge, gargantuan, enough so to cast a shadow over our settlement. Blocking out the sun, as it flew into the mountain. It had to blow off the tip, to fit in, or so the stories say. That's when griffons started to make it a point, a challenge, to climb the mountain."

"Records claim that the dragon was a wyrm, with a size that allowed it to blow apart cities with minimal effort. Larger then normal dragons, and it was supposedly in  it's early adolescent stage."

"It was then that the legends surrounding the mountain became labeled as true. This dragon was no stranger to the magic arts--it's mountain was in tune with it's own power, and as a result, the land became as deadly as the fury of a dragon's wrath."

"Now...We named it Mount Kaalro, because in Griffonstone, we used to have a philosophy...That those who defeat a dragon, are recognized as champions. In the older languages spoken, Kaalro translates to Champion's. And it has been gaining infamy ever since. Most people climb it, in hopes of snagging the dragon's supposed treasure, but to us griffons...It's about seeing, if you're truly strong enough, to make a difference."

"Strong enough, to become a legend."

Not sure why you mentioned me in that post, but Dwhite, do note that not everyone is open to talk about themselves to total strangers. XD

@, 

Sorry, but your timeline is up. After about a day and a half. XD

Magos, mi amigo, you're up! Can't wait to see what Memento does. XD

Copper nodded automatically, and fumbled in his saddlebags, finding his I.D.  Eventually, he found it, and showed it to the stallion in question.  "Here it is.  I'm at 22 years and counting."

 

And it showed, his I.D. had his birth date, which was 22 years ago, and the smile that's shown in his face.

The stallion looked over it for a minute, before looking up at him with an almost sympathetic look. But still amused, vaguely. 

"Bud, this expired two weeks ago. Can't serve ya, or I'll risk my job. I can still serve ya some iced tea, or maybe some cider, though. That sound good?"

Rhetoric smiled greatly "Thank you sir, its been a long walk I must say..." he took the stout to his muzzle and drank deep with a sigh "Anyway, as far as stories go, why don't you tell the one you'd prefer me to hear. I've got all day and all night if need be and my ears are itching to listen" he leaned on the bar, intent on learning all he could of the little area  

"Well, I suppose I'll talk about the story that came first...See, way, way back when the idol was first lost, Griffonstone started to fall apart. The city outside the kingdom was the first to fall apart. Farms dried up, streams for spearing fish became scarce, and the hunting fields became barren. Looking back on it, if we had just toughed it out that season, perhaps Griffonstone might be standing tall toady. But alas...A rebellion was formed, and declared independence from the kingdom. They set off, to find better land to live in, taking as much rations as they could when they went. If the lowered supplies hadn't been enough of a blow to Griffonstone, the loss of their farmers, cobblers, and other small-trade workers leaving was worse then pulling out the stool they were struggling to balance on."

"This group that left the kingdom, journeyed north, and didn't stop until they found better land. Which happened to be here, at the base of a mountain. But...Strange things happen, near that mountain, there. Enough for stories to circulate, about some mystic force that reanimates someone into a fighting fiend, near the mountain. Of course, most beings disregard it as some folktale, but anyone who's come within a mile of that mountain'll tell you...They're real."

"Which of course, brings us to our next story--Mount Kaalro's folklore. Or I guess you could call this story, a legend."