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The Lost Lords [Fel]

The high clifftops of the new Weyr gaze out across desert and jungle both, an ideal location to watch for incoming trouble.
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Sat Sep 14, 2019 6:33 pm

The Lost Lords [Fel]

Corleon had never thought he'd see the southern continent with his own eyes. The jungles stretched before him, wild and empty and full of promise. They wouldn't stay that way forever. Whatever the dangers, this land was lush and prosperous. A hold could thrive here.

He sat alone with his wher in the fireheights, just watching the horizon. How different things might have been had Fort Hold been situated among jungles like these, where rain never failed to come.

It was strange to wear the uniform and simple knots of a common wherhandler again. His reflection was of a man he would once have recognized but who now felt like a stranger. For the first time since Corleon had left High Reaches, he owed nothing to anyone but his wher and his service. He had no hold, no title, no wife.

Once, it was the only life he had ever wanted. Now...he didn't know. He'd spent so long furthering first his brother's aims and then Vellaren's, it was hard to remember what his own dreams had been.

Could rise here, Corleosk suggested. They hadn't been given their place at Fort. They had won it. They could do it again.

I don't think I want it, Corleon said. He'd been happy once, before Fort. Maybe he could find his way back there, And I definitely don't deserve it. I helped bring down a reign that's endured for centuries with sheer incompetence. What do you want, Corleosk?

His wher had been his constant ally. Maybe it was time for him to take the lead.

Corleosk looked out at the horizon too. He had wanted power. He had schemed and manipulated and he had gotten it. Now it was gone. What was left for him? Another climb? Corleosk was a wher who prided himself on knowing what he needed and doing what it took to get there. And now he too was at a loss.

Want happy. You and me, Corleosk said. He knew his handler well enough to know it was what he wanted to hear. The words would buy him time to chart a new path. His handler wouldn't question them.

That would be nice, Corleon agreed wistfully, What does that even mean anymore?
Essa of Bronze Gectusith
Weyrling Quinn of Bronze-White Louicyth
Wingleader S'bor of Bronze Yugoth
ACM Estelle of Brown Jaehaeryth
Faralyn of Brown Grooth
Ieyasu of Brown Ieyask
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Augury of Blue Velveth
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Miryem of Blue Riwenth
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Wingsecond L'ir of Green Byth
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Makoto of White Usakinth
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Weyrbrat Norelli
High Reaches
Elyron of Gold Elysk and Green Elyrosk
Jr. Wherleader Hela of Bronze Helsk and Brown Hesk
Sr. Weyrleader Schneizel of Bronze Damocleth
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Di'a of Brown Kasshuth
Dobby of Brown Kersuth
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Sun Oct 06, 2019 12:10 pm

Go pick weeds. Go do useless chores, Toro. We think you're as low as a drudge, Toro, so just go get out of our sight. Toro spent most of his time complaining to his wher. Everyone knew what Lamentoso Squad was; his squadmates were an arrogant, unrepentant thief and a kid who couldn't even do dishes without tripping over his own feet. It was no place for someone of the Blood like him.

Own fault. Make me look bad. Useless... No know why choose you, Torsk grumbled. Her talents were being squandered. How could she rule with this childish man dragging her down? And every time she tried to drag him up, he resisted. Said it was too much work.

She paused mid-step, sniffing at the air. Smell new wher, and human.

Toro glanced at her. A new wherhandler? Maybe he could use that. Maybe he could start to build a loyal following, begin his ascent to—

"You?!" Toro asked incredulously as he finally spotted the other handler. "What, is this some sort of state vis—wait. Those knots are..." A slow grin spread over his face. Oh, this was just too good.
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