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Talvace on DeviantArthttp://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/https://www.deviantart.com/talvace/art/Alberich-Bolivar-wip-688335375Talvace

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Promoted Deviations

Literature

the test case

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Literature

Scarecrow Night

Greebo was sleeping. It was one of those standard feline activities that did not interfere with the flow of ions and other -ons through the multiverse.¹ His sleep, however, was at the same time a great relief for everything that walked, rolled, talked, sang, squeaked, or even occasionally fluttered in the wind. Somewhere in the distance, a not-very-clever cat meowed—only to be immediately silenced by his wiser brothers, whose reflexes were highly preventive.² If Greebo had been in the bean field that had sprung up surprisingly quickly around Lancre Castle, he would have been astonished. King Verence had decided to put a scarecrow there. By day, it hardly stood out: a pile of sticks clad in old rags and scraps of clothing no one would wear anymore.³ Usually, it didn’t even scare away flies, let alone sparrows (which were scarce in the bean field anyway, since they had no taste for such refined food). Beans attracted no one. The field was so saturated with everyday life—stomach aches

Literature

Winter Berries (Poem)

Winter Berries (by Bukoslav) In winter’s grasp, when days are slow, The earth is still, the skies are low, And through the frost, so soft and bare, A splash of red, a quiet prayer. Berries cling to branches bare, Their color bold against the air, Like tiny stars in a frozen night, Surrendered to the cold, yet bright. Each berry holds a whispered song, Of summers past and days too long, Of sun-kissed leaves and winds that dance, Now buried deep in winter’s trance. But still they stand, a stubborn truth, The memory of a vanished youth. They do not bow to time or frost, They hold their ground, no matter cost. For in their crimson depths we find A spark that lingers, undefined, A reminder that even in the dark, Life blooms, though fragile, like a spark. Winter steals the warmth of day, But berries bloom in their own way- A quiet strength beneath the snow, A truth that only winter knows. And as the winds howl through the trees, We learn, from berries, how to be- To stand, to wait

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Literature

EC | Denwen | Chance

— The two buckskin stallions wandered around together, starting it off in silence as they gazed at the other unicorns. “Is anyone eye-catching quite yet?” Denwen asked the younger stallion, “not quite, some mares have the looks, but seeing how their conversations are going. They don’t seem like they’d fit our adventuring style.” Levant responded with a small snort in frustration. “Ah, the one will find us eventually then, don’t worry.” “How can you be so sure of that?” Levant questioned Denwen, the two stallions stopped and stared at each other. To be honest, Denwen wasn’t sure how to answer his question, but he had to try. “I’m sure they will turn up eventually only because it has happened to me before, with a few of the herd members.” “Oh?” He cocked his head at him in a way to try and urge Denwen to continue speaking, this did peak his curiosity. “Fauna, she was the first mare I had ever encountered, she had a rough life in her birth-herd similar to mine. She is the lead mare of

Literature

EC | Denwen | Helping Hoof

— With caution, Denwen stood still as he watched the odd looking herd of strange unicorns speak amongst themselves. Some had nothing but fear in their eyes, others curiosity, some were just so tired they were devoid of emotion. He couldn’t help but feel bad for them all, what have these poor creatures gone through? Whatever it is, they didn’t deserve it, at least to Denwen they didn’t. Denwen looked back at his small herd, everyone was back behind Fauna. Some peeking around, over and under her. She was a bit scared, but masked it well behind her eyes. Endrick stood furthest back, being the largest of the whole herd, and towering over these smaller creatures. He didn’t want to add more fear to them, but he had his own curiosities about the small unicorns. Fauna gave Denwen a nod, as he motioned towards walking closer. They would stay there, let Denwen do what he desires. Seeing some physically relax after he left his herd behind, hurt him just a bit. His whole herd was friendly, he

Literature

DiRPG | Darren | Waterlily

— The white colt lifted his head high, flicked his tail up and pranced in a circle to look at Darren. “Of course! Who else would defend all the mares? You old man?” Daniella giggled at the colts' antics, and looked up at Darren who was going through a few different emotions. Well, no turning back now, he thought as he watched the white colt try to appear bigger in front of Daniella. “Very well, come along guard, we must return this mare back to the herd.” Daniella came up behind Thor and nudged him, “lead me back” she laughed out. The white colt took the lead but then looked in either direction in front of them confused. “We need to go straight and then left at the large oak tree in the distance.” “Oh” “Yes, I come from a herd more north of here.” “Why are they alone?” Thor questioned the older stallions' reasons. Darren pinned his ears, he wasn't mad, just upset with himself. “There was something dangerous that threatened others, and I wanted to help. That's how I met Daniella,

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Literature

[PotA] Wooden Frames

Cadbury was rolling in the grass when Aippaq appeared to him, grass stuck in his mane and smudges of dirt on his face – a hell of a way to greet the most powerful deity. The tokota’s handler was about thirty yards away, tightening a temporary wire around a wooden fence post. Neither of them noticed initially, but the wolf swore to them later that his fur stood on end moments before the deity appeared in the middle of the pasture, which explained the odd growl that crawled out of his muzzle just as an ethereal white beast blinked into view, stark against the emerald grass around them. Blue flames that didn’t burn anything shot out from Aippaq’s mane and tail, and Cadbury shot to his feet, mouth rudely agape. His attention drawn by growling, Kal spun and dropped the tools from his gloved hands, equally dumbstruck. He dared to inch closer, so as not to leave Cadbury and the wolf to fend for themselves. “This idol,” Aippaq’s voice lilted, “must be delivered to the elders of Sankhij

Literature

[PotA] Vigilante

The Sankhij Village center was always bustling, but there seemed to be an extra frenzy in the air as Kal pushed through the crowds. Genesis and his deer companion trailed closely behind him, trying not to get lost in the crowds. There was the usual crowd that had come for the markets, trading and selling whatever they saw fit. But there was a group or two on the outskirts of those crowds, their anxious energy buzzing around them. Kal tried to push closer to hear what they were saying, the roar of so many voices overwhelming. Genesis and the little deer certainly stepped on a few toes here and there as they followed behind. “The poachers took ‘er. I’m telling ya,” some old man was saying, his voice thick with an accent that Kal couldn’t quite place, “out to The Den.” “She probably just wandered off somewhere else. The little dakino has never stayed in one place for long,” a woman chimed. “Excuse me,” Kal said quietly to a man on the outside of the group. “What’s going on? What’s

Literature

[PotA] In a Haze

“It’s a shame about that fire in the foothills,” a voice carried. Kal’s head whipped up as the words sank in. He scanned the nearby crowd, nearly dropping the small box of produce in his arms. His gaze fell on Cadbury and the brown wolf, both a good distance away in the shade, waiting with the small cart Kat had the tokota haul into town. The handler dragged his eyes back to the crowd, searching for the source of those alarming words. “I just don’t know what that wild pack will do. Fenrir, the others… the pack leaders just wouldn’t see reason.” “Good riddance if you ask me,” a new, malicious voice bit out. “That Desna pack has been nothing but trouble for as long as I can remember – Fenrir, especially!” There were several loud protests then, and Kal spotted the group of four or five people nearby. They were gathered around a booth that displayed different herbs and plants for sale, and Kal was appalled to find that the malice was coming from the owner of that booth. “I-I mean

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Literature

Among Stones and Thistles {Payment | Foraging}

The morning air carried the bite of early frost, thin as glass and sharp against the skin. The valley below shimmered with dew—grasses bent beneath their cold crowns, while the low sun spread a soft gold across the open plain. Birds wheeled far overhead, their cries thin against the wind that whispered down from the mountains. Argon’s hooves left dark prints in the damp earth as he moved, his black coat gleaming faintly beneath its dusting of frost. His hindquarters bore a white blanket marked with scattered dark spots, and his steady brown eyes reflected the pale light of dawn. He turned his head toward the ridge, flicking an ear as he listened. Behind him, a lighter set of hoofbeats echoed—Pipra’s. The young megaloceros moved with a rhythm that was all her own—graceful, deliberate, yet brisk, as if she feared the world might outpace her if she lingered too long. Her coat was a patchwork of darkwood and earth tones, flecked with brindle streaks, her legs and muzzle tipped in soft tan.

Literature

Beneath the Blood Moons Glow {Discovery}

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Literature

The Quiet Way North {Payment}

The morning mist clung low to the ancient valley as the sun began its slow rise over the eastern cliffs, spilling golden light across the dewy grasslands. Birds cawed overhead, their wings slicing through the cool autumn air. The scent of damp lichen and ripe berries lingered like a promise. It was the perfect day to forage. Pipra stepped carefully along a narrow trail, her hooves silent on the softened ground. Her fawn-colored coat, marked with tan brindle stripes and deep earth-toned undertones, blended beautifully with the season’s dying leaves. Light blue eyes scanned the terrain with methodical precision. Every twitch of a fern, every crushed leaf, she noticed. She didn’t speak, but she didn’t need to. Behind her, the ground trembled gently—thud... thud... thud. Heart, the woolly mammoth, lumbered along with a slow, rhythmic grace. Her thick red fur rippled slightly in the breeze. She moved with a calm, steady confidence, her massive trunk gently brushing aside low branches. Her

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Th3R3v3nan7

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Starfall Animal Alphabet - N

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Starfall Animal Alphabet - O

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Art and Life

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Alberich Bolivar [wip]

Talvace

Published: Jun 24, 2017

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Description

Name: Alberich Bolívar
Meaning: Alberich is a Germanic name directly translating to "elf" and "power". Bolívar is a Spanish surname originating from Bolibar, a small Basque village. It transtlates to "mill" and meadow. His name is thought to mean "Powerful Elf of the meadow", though he is known human.
Nickname: None, he hates nicknames.
Origin: Germanic, Spanish
Title: Merchant Prince
Race: Hispanic
Sexual Orientation: Pansexual
Social Class: Middle-Upper Class (Merchant)
Occupation: Merchant's Son
Horse: TBA

Design by xRezia

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Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-No Derivatives Works 3.0 License

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