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Description
Music (play it LOUD): [link]
They had been left in the dark for days, blindfolded and tied down, deprived of all but the most necessary doses of food and water. When finally the torturous movement of their transportation stopped they were unceremoniously shoved into a pen far too small for all six horses. The blindfolds were ripped from them at the same time as the noise hit their ears; the screaming monstrosity of a crowd of humans, all yelling and clapping and stomping inches from the fence. Hungry, tired, and overwhelmed, the horses went mad in their pen, rearing and screaming, lashing out at each other in mindless fear.

He had no time to adjust or make sense of his surroundings before the pen flooded with human children, all of them barely high enough to see over the horses' withers, screaming as they plunged between the rearing beasts. Hands grabbed at his mane and flanks, legs scrabbling for purchase on his sides as they fought to find a seat upon his great back. Frightened and overwhelmed, he reared again and again, feeling bodies deflect off his hooves. Hands clamped cruelly at his mane, short legs tightening around his barrel and he thundered forward into another horse, reeling away at the impact.

The screams around them grew louder as the ground in the pen gradually cleared, the still-standing children dragging their fallen comrades away. When he had a moment to breathe he saw the other horses similarly mounted, the children insignificant weights upon their backs. The screaming grew to deafening levels before a lead was looped over his neck, the small weight flinging itself off his back as hands tugged on the rope. Left no choice but to follow, he trotted nervously after the human, gait high and uneven.

The stable he was put into was blessedly quiet and cool, with fresh water and hay, but he was too keyed up to eat, ears swiveling nervously as the other five horses were led past. It was a long, exhausting night and he finally dropped into a light doze, still brimming with unanswered questions.

Jager hasn't always been the composed creature we know him as. At the age of two he and five other Nordanners were exported from Skagenrak to Rakernon, the central city out in a wasteland controlled by dragons. They were bought as mounts to Slayers, the protectors of Rakernon and its out liars.

Slayers are trained from the age of ten, and after two years of intensive training the group that's survived so far (usually no more than about twenty out of an original forty) are let loose on the pen of horses to try and mount one. Prior to the ceremony they are given no training on horses and are exposed to the creatures as little as possible, so it becomes a bloodbath as they leap desperately at the giant horses, all of whom have been carefully mistreated to put them in an aggressive mood and help weed the children down further.

This successfully culls the trainees down to six hopefuls, who must undergo four more years of training (most of it now on horseback) before they are able to be called full Slayers.

Rest assured that the nordanners are taken very good care of after the initial ceremony. They are actually considered more valuable than the humans, and in the morning will be fed and watered properly, taken out and gently exercised, wiped down of all the accumulated sweat, etc. The trainers (most retired Slayers) have just come to realize that they get better results when the horses are riled up and spooked.

This new style of shading is bad-fucking-ass for nighttime and dramatic lighting scenes x3

I'm borrowing several other nordanners for the purpose of this plotline. From left to right;
Ran
Daze
Matty
Jager
Kal
Gala

Refs: [link] [link] [link] [link]

Description
Music (play it LOUD): [link]
They had been left in the dark for days, blindfolded and tied down, deprived of all but the most necessary doses of food and water. When finally the torturous movement of their transportation stopped they were unceremoniously shoved into a pen far too small for all six horses. The blindfolds were ripped from them at the same time as the noise hit their ears; the screaming monstrosity of a crowd of humans, all yelling and clapping and stomping inches from the fence. Hungry, tired, and overwhelmed, the horses went mad in their pen, rearing and screaming, lashing out at each other in mindless fear.

He had no time to adjust or make sense of his surroundings before the pen flooded with human children, all of them barely high enough to see over the horses' withers, screaming as they plunged between the rearing beasts. Hands grabbed at his mane and flanks, legs scrabbling for purchase on his sides as they fought to find a seat upon his great back. Frightened and overwhelmed, he reared again and again, feeling bodies deflect off his hooves. Hands clamped cruelly at his mane, short legs tightening around his barrel and he thundered forward into another horse, reeling away at the impact.

The screams around them grew louder as the ground in the pen gradually cleared, the still-standing children dragging their fallen comrades away. When he had a moment to breathe he saw the other horses similarly mounted, the children insignificant weights upon their backs. The screaming grew to deafening levels before a lead was looped over his neck, the small weight flinging itself off his back as hands tugged on the rope. Left no choice but to follow, he trotted nervously after the human, gait high and uneven.

The stable he was put into was blessedly quiet and cool, with fresh water and hay, but he was too keyed up to eat, ears swiveling nervously as the other five horses were led past. It was a long, exhausting night and he finally dropped into a light doze, still brimming with unanswered questions.

Jager hasn't always been the composed creature we know him as. At the age of two he and five other Nordanners were exported from Skagenrak to Rakernon, the central city out in a wasteland controlled by dragons. They were bought as mounts to Slayers, the protectors of Rakernon and its out liars.

Slayers are trained from the age of ten, and after two years of intensive training the group that's survived so far (usually no more than about twenty out of an original forty) are let loose on the pen of horses to try and mount one. Prior to the ceremony they are given no training on horses and are exposed to the creatures as little as possible, so it becomes a bloodbath as they leap desperately at the giant horses, all of whom have been carefully mistreated to put them in an aggressive mood and help weed the children down further.

This successfully culls the trainees down to six hopefuls, who must undergo four more years of training (most of it now on horseback) before they are able to be called full Slayers.

Rest assured that the nordanners are taken very good care of after the initial ceremony. They are actually considered more valuable than the humans, and in the morning will be fed and watered properly, taken out and gently exercised, wiped down of all the accumulated sweat, etc. The trainers (most retired Slayers) have just come to realize that they get better results when the horses are riled up and spooked.

This new style of shading is bad-fucking-ass for nighttime and dramatic lighting scenes x3

I'm borrowing several other nordanners for the purpose of this plotline. From left to right;
Ran
Daze
Matty
Jager
Kal
Gala

Refs: [link] [link] [link] [link]