This is a private roleplay between Guillotine and Háidēs.
Posted: Fri Feb 28, 2014 12:22 am
A breeze rustled through the trees and brought with it the scent of dried herbs. A wind chime made of precious stones jingled with the breeze and reflected the light shining through the canopy of trees. In one of those rays of light, a stallion with thick black wings stood before a branch of an ancient oak, hanging from the branch were the herbs he had spent countless hours collecting. Each held a specific property that would aid in the healing process of his patients. Work seemed to have gotten harder now that his sons had grown and made their own mark on life. Erebes had his own apothecary some place and Westrion continued to travel and help those who were in need. Háidēs gave a slight smile, the only son that seemed to visit often was Roman, the stallion he had adopted after finding the wind nearly dead on a rainy night.
It was hard to know where to look when you didn't know who you were looking for. The books, that was the goal--but who had them or did anyone? What sense did any of it make?
Her herd had sent her on this wild goose chase, it wasn't that she didn't believe--but that the road was hard or nearly impossible. Would she ever make it back home? Or would she and her descendants be searching for this for centuries?
But lo, there he was who she had decided to search for. The keeper of Death, Haides. If he did not know what she needed--then no one would. She could feel the fear in the pit of her stomach like wriggling worms.
"Are you he? Are you Hades of the crossing?"
Posted: Fri Feb 28, 2014 1:05 am
He continued to count off the herbs and list the properties in his head, as he went over his check list. He needed more spider webs and moss, his supply was running low. He continued to look around his work area, seeing if he missed anything. Stones littered the ground, each having a certain property as well, just like the herbs hanging from the trees. Before Lina and his current family, the stones of the earth were the only things that understood him. They did not shun him for his fascination of death. They gave him strength and support until his heart found love in the dainty mare. A strange voice drew him from his internal musings and he turned to face a blue mare with a blondish mane and tail. The stallion with the great black wings bowed his head, “I am Háidēs, and how may I be in service?”
"You ferry the souls," she stated as she looked up at him. He was tall and muscled, his skin a golden dark brown. His wings were so black they were also purple and the soft rustling of them made her shiver. His cape blew in the wind, but there was no wind. Maybe it was a spirit wind? Maybe she was crazy or just scared.
But he was the Ferryman, she had heard of him all her life. To meet him face to face was both fearful and triumphant. Her questions died on her lips as she looked him over.
"I'm sorry to disturb you," she inclined her head in deference. "I am searching for something of great value to my people, but I find it. I need to know who holds these books of great power, they need to be destroyed. I thought perhaps you helped one of the owners with passing, that maybe you know..."
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