Welcome to Tempered Calamity! For as long as horses can remember, this place has been their santucary far removed from the presence of any humans. Well protected and abundant in food and space, equines of all kinds have called these lands home. Over time, the original horses who settled here spread out to explore and established the territory boundaries known today.
On the surface things appear peaceful between the different bands as well as the free roaming horses, but all is not as it seems. The inhabitants here are under constant threat. Not only do they have to survive the elements and natural disasters and outwit predators, they must also face rival herds or individuals looking to steal land or other horses.
Tempered Calamity is a semi-realistic wild horse rpg inspired by old school play by post forums. Low word count and minimal activity requirements, come check us out or say hey on our discord!
a semi-realistic wild horse rpg
year 01
spring
updates
04.10
We're officially open to members! Check out some of the quick links above to get started on all the need-to-know information. If you find any issues, feel free to PM Oxy on here or discord!
DATE HERE
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It'll never do 'ya any good t' dwell on the past, yet here he was. His mama's words - he could still hear her voice sometimes, truthfully serving as the last bit of a conscience he had. He tended to ignore it these days.
Truthfully, he didn't have much business coming here in the first place. It was never going to be like he remembered it, nor would it give him any kind of closure, not that he was actively seeking it anyway. Denver had only sort of meandered his way into the mountains, heavy hooves plodding along, shoving himself past bushes and trees, and not in any sort of direction. The stallion himself had lived primarliy in the free lands ever since he had first been banished from here, and while there were many moments when he'd considered returning just to get some kind of revenge, it ultimately dissolved to nothing. None of it really seemed to matter anymore, and so he supposed it was curiosity in the end. He already knew of the fate that befell the herd he had grown up in, and he did not expect remnants of the past to still exist here now.
But through the mountain brush, he continued. He'd picked up a scent easily enough; foreign to him. Not that he knew many other equines. It was only a matter of time until he was found, and lord knows what sort of creature had taken up the role. His surroundings were quiet, but not silent. Birds chirped high in the treetops, way out of his reach. As he looked up he could barely catch the sun between the clouds, and it was easy to tell that rain was likely to be rolling in within the next few hours. Normally, Denver would have sought out shelter at this point, but given where he was he decided against it. He would wait instead to be ambushed.
He could not explain it, but it almost felt as though the trees around him were holding their breath. Waiting for something to happen.
[attr="class","calamity-post-body"] Lost. One could get so hopelessly lost within this realm. The trees sang a mournful tune as the wind danced with the leaves and branches. The fog swirled and looped, engulfing anything that braved its depths. Shadowy figures seemed to hover in the distance, making one able to become paranoid. Nine times out of ten there was no other being near you, just your eyes playing tricks to deceive you. How cruel could one's mind be to want to play such tricks? Whilst the perpetual darkness seemed to be impenetrable, it was merely missing the usual light as the cloud cover hid the sun. It seemed they had won the battle on who got to reign the skies today. The scent that lay scattered through the air stank of oncoming rain. How joyful.
The raven-hued figure slipped through the fog, relishing in the solace it brought forth. It was almost like a warm embrace to him. He preferred areas like this, heavily covered and protected. It made life easier. Those strong enough to find their way without aid were more than welcome in his domain... If they got lost, well... The predators could have their dinner. Very rarely would the stag put himself on the line for one he saw as weaker. He slapped the air with his tail, tendrils cutting through the fog, disrupting its swirling. It was fleeting, for the fog reassembled as if no disruption had taken place in a matter of a heartbeat. He was proud of himself for finding such a kingdom to claim. This was where he felt most comfortable.
His peace would soon be interrupted it seemed. He caught the scent of an intruder, there was no mistaking it. With quiet intent, he altered his course to find the incoming intruder. It had not taken long for someone to get brazen enough to come to seek the answer as to who had laid claim upon this stretch of terrain. He was impressed by the land's desire to spread news like wildfire. Then again, it could be a challenger, one who decided they wanted these lands to themselves, to call themselves Commander in Chief. Towers fell back for a second whilst he considered this. He'd welcome the challenge, of course, he'd prove he was meant to be king here, no matter the cost.
He sauntered in the shadows, his dark coat blending so easily. Only his white markings would give him away if any were able to focus their eyes long enough. The sun was playing peekaboo. Now and then a stray ray would kiss the surface only to be chased away with darkness once more. It was amusing, had he not been on the path to find out who came to call upon him, knowingly or not. On his way, he watched the fog, he loved how it enveloped everything and once again found himself just thinking about how easy it'd be for such weak souls to get lost, so very lost. He licked his lips, the velvety hairs brushing against his salmon-pink muscle before it slipped back behind the incisors.
A figure, a real figure, revealed itself soon enough. Blue pools studied the towering form. The intruder seemed nonchalant, even with the threat of the skies letting go of all its pain and misery in a torrential downpour. He slowly allowed himself to come into view, body language passive. If he could avoid a fight, he would. Reserve his strength for when it mattered. "You there, state your name and business in these lands. Know you are speaking to Snake Eyes, ruler of this territory." His voice was strong, meant to be carried with pride to the stranger. Only time would tell what this meeting would bring.
It was as though the world curdled around him. Slowly, though, enough for him to take notice. He could feel the shift behind his ears, in his shoulder blades. Woodland critters all seemed to scatter away, as though they could sense their natural predator moving in to the area. Any other equine might've been spooked, but it wouldn't get to Denver so easily. Deep blue eyes carefully trailed along the breaks in the surrounding foliage; he could feel that somebody had arrived, and wasn't entirely certain he'd be able to spot them at first glance. After all, if they didn't want to be discovered in the first place, it was very likely that he might not even get the chance. Knowing very well that he had trespassed on another equine's turf, it was only natural that he suddenly feel so unwelcome. Whether or not he would be chased from the land, it was yet to be determined. He hoped not.
A last ditch effort to spy sunlight, metaphorical glimmers of hope, were quickly masked by oncoming clouds and a sudden onslaught of fog. Visibility was diminishing quickly, and it wouldn't benefit Denver in the slightest. Sure, he had grown up on this soil, but even he realized it had become so much different than what he thought he knew. The same old trees stood tall above him, but overgrowth seemed to cover the paths he was more familiar with. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but it would serve him better to know exactly where he was - and know where escape routes were.
The voice cut through the silence; he'd used his dark hyde as camoflague, hiding in shadows, observing the russet stallion before even making himself known. It captured Denver's attention quickly, sure. He spun himself around, recognizing that the other stallion could have easily snapped at him from behind. Fortunately, it seemed he was trying to be civil. A low snort, and Denver remained still. He knew well how these young Kings could spit venom, if only to try to position themselves as leaders, and so he was not the least bit intimidated. What worried him was the way which this beast carried himself, a true sense of pride if he ever saw one. Speaking out of turn would quickly burn his chances . . . but chances of what, exactly?
"The name's Denver," he said, without hesitation. It took him a moment, to truly digest his reason for coming. Even he wasn't entirely certain as to why. For a very long time, he had not been the type to dig up his past, a life he had chosen to leave behind a very long time ago. Maybe, the idea to build something new atop the bones of old Kings had enticed him along. "Heard someone laid claim t' this land, and I suppose I wanted t' see for myself." He soon noticed how he towered over the other, though it did not diminish the King's comportment. Denver had a feeling, a churning deep in his gut, that unlike others he had encountered in the past, this one was a genuine deal. The stallion was a little rusty, but would try to remain cordial. "Pleasure t' meet 'ya."
[attr="class","calamity-post-body"] A crow cried in the distance, almost as if sounding an alarm. It was a lonesome cry, for none came to return the call. Tree tops swayed and danced together in the wind ebbing above in the atmosphere. Some of that draft dripped down to the earth, like some blustering blanket. Foliage that once stood so still, so stoic now twirled around to the symphony. Within the true forest of this territory, the mist hung heavily like a soupy curtain hiding away the nature of the forest. Out here, somewhat away from the trees, the lingering mist was thinner, not so easy to choke on. Here is where you could see how it moved and swirled over the area with the flow of the air.
Out here by the outskirts of the mist, one could easily escape if wanted. It was here where the wannabe intruders and invaders would be safest. Predators still stalked out here, but they found it easier to ambush once further into the mist. Snake Eyes preferred further in if he wanted to ambush an intruder truly, but when it came to easier encounters that did not come in with high aggression, he would always choose here. It would be easy for him to slip back into the mist whereas the newcomer would be able to escape themselves If they were not truly invading. Some might have done it differently, but this way worked for the brute so far, so why fix what’s not broken?
It was also easier to notice the oncoming weather, if needed, once out here. The skies weren’t hidden behind the curtain of mist nor the canopy of the towering trees that knotted and grew thick. Observing the weather was beneficial for the lead, for, if need be, he could ensure the vulnerable members, if ever present, could find shelter before storms. Currently, in the state of the heavens, Snake would assume at some point, rain threatened. The skies were inky grey, thick bubbly clouds covered the expanse of the heavens, hiding away the sun. Now and then, a break in the cloud cover could be seen but it was fleeting, as if trying to play with the emotions of the land dwellers. If one was so lost within their heads, trapped like a prisoner, this dreary weather would be of no help to pull them from such a prison.
All these observations and of course, attention laid to rest with this visitor. Snake had eyed him a little as he had approached the figure, but now as was closer, he could see him thoroughly. A copper body stood towering over the land; Snake would akin his color to that of the clay that remained in the expansive desert after its annual rainfall. White graffiti tagged parts of his body to mark him as an individual. This stallion was bigger than Snake, an easy observation, but Snake remained as proud as ever. He didn’t get to where he was by being a pushover or by being intimidated. The brute didn’t give off aggressive vibes yet, so Snake remained passive yet weary.
The name’s Denver Towers shot towards the stud before him. His words were confident, not held back. Good, Snake appreciated those who were confident with their answers and replies. He wasn’t one for too much dilly-dallying. Heard someone laid claim t' this land, and I suppose I wanted t' see for myself. Snake tilted his head for a moment. The brute had an accent he was new to. This did not change Snake’s views at all. It was still easy to understand the stud. So far, he had given no sign of disrespect, but this still did not put the walls away. Snake was still very weary about intruders, especially other stallions. He had others to protect and think about now. Pleasure t' meet 'ya. Snake shifted his attention fully to the stag before him finally. ” Denver.” He repeated the name, a sign of respect to the other, showing his attention and memory. He dipped his crown slightly to the other. ” Yes, I had decided I wanted it for myself. It gives others a chance to be here and be protected, be safe, and have a place to bed every night away from the dangers that creep nightly.” He spoke truthfully. Whilst he was extremely fascinated with power for himself, he still wanted to ensure others who were not as survival-savvy had a soft place to land. ” Pleasure is all mine. “ He flicked his tendrils behind him slowly. Would this brute be staying a while? Was he passing through after this? Snake was curious but withheld too many questions.
” Have you been traveling far today? Did this visit satisfy the craving of your thirst for knowledge?” He inquired, curious about the plans of the stag. Would he be planning on remaining within the territory for a bit? Would he battle the threat of the heavens releasing a downpour of piss-poor weather? Would he request shelter for the night? Snake shifted his weight in his hind end and rolled his shoulders gently. He would grant him sanctuary if he politely requested it, sure, but he was not going to flat offer it upfront. That would be very unlike him.
[attr="class","calamity-post-note"] birdorcages notes;; Sorry for the wait!
