Post by Evita on Aug 19, 2005 21:28:57 GMT -5
Aspen Ridge is a wonderful land known for its refined beauty, loyal horses, and abundant herds whom travel upon hearth with ease.
Toric-the immaculate lord of horses. Imagine the most brilliant, ingenious even, handsome, witty horse you can...that would be Toric. His ebony coat glistened with no sun, as his legs thundered with no movement. Broodmares were enviably his, royals were extatic to stand at his side, while foals were blessed with his lineage.
Perhaps the most blessed of his offspring were three stallions of his broods. Epic, Saxon, and Sciro were their cursings. Of the same spring breeding, and the same spring birthing, the three grew to behave as brothers. Through the tragedy of greed facing them, they would never lead the same lives.
Growing, only watching and wishing they could live the life of their father, they conspire to crucify the one noble thing about their lives...Toric. He had raised them well, and perhaps too well, for Toric would approve if it were not him to die. The three assembled, forming a pack, setting off in the night...
Once the great stallion was gone, there were still three stallions-two too many for any one herd to be led by. Locked in a dual, Epic and Sciro drew each other closer and closer to death. Cowardy, Saxon drew upon Sciro's back unseen, pushing him upon hell's soil. It was settled. The two remaining brothers parted the lands, each going their seperate ways. Not in good terms of course! The two rivals spoke less than they fought, their offspring learning to hate the opposite herd as if their young lives depended on it.
Two quarreling herds sounds like quite enough, correct? Sciro; he died in vain, but his heirs still live on, rebelious from the other two herds. His posterity took the last remaining part of Toric's land, fighting for more and more as the years passed.
The great lord Toric proclaimed these lands his, and the royals leading today are the descendants of his blood. That was 300 years ago, and his offspring are still in battle. Which herd will you join, and lead to triumphant glory?
Toric-the immaculate lord of horses. Imagine the most brilliant, ingenious even, handsome, witty horse you can...that would be Toric. His ebony coat glistened with no sun, as his legs thundered with no movement. Broodmares were enviably his, royals were extatic to stand at his side, while foals were blessed with his lineage.
Perhaps the most blessed of his offspring were three stallions of his broods. Epic, Saxon, and Sciro were their cursings. Of the same spring breeding, and the same spring birthing, the three grew to behave as brothers. Through the tragedy of greed facing them, they would never lead the same lives.
Growing, only watching and wishing they could live the life of their father, they conspire to crucify the one noble thing about their lives...Toric. He had raised them well, and perhaps too well, for Toric would approve if it were not him to die. The three assembled, forming a pack, setting off in the night...
Once the great stallion was gone, there were still three stallions-two too many for any one herd to be led by. Locked in a dual, Epic and Sciro drew each other closer and closer to death. Cowardy, Saxon drew upon Sciro's back unseen, pushing him upon hell's soil. It was settled. The two remaining brothers parted the lands, each going their seperate ways. Not in good terms of course! The two rivals spoke less than they fought, their offspring learning to hate the opposite herd as if their young lives depended on it.
Two quarreling herds sounds like quite enough, correct? Sciro; he died in vain, but his heirs still live on, rebelious from the other two herds. His posterity took the last remaining part of Toric's land, fighting for more and more as the years passed.
The great lord Toric proclaimed these lands his, and the royals leading today are the descendants of his blood. That was 300 years ago, and his offspring are still in battle. Which herd will you join, and lead to triumphant glory?