"Where brilliance is good and madness is better..."
Helovia Info
Helovia opened in February 2012! We are an active fantasy equine RPG
Where once the world narrowed into naught but gray dust and desolation, the gods called for life. Wielding the elements of fire and light, dark and wind, earth and water, spark and time, they have created Helovia. The realm is set within the mythical globe of Loorien, a planet rich with all variety of creatures and blessed with all manner of magic. Originally populated by nomadic, tribal characters, they've since grown into massive empires saturated with culture and history. Separated into four distinct segments of Helovia, called "The Regions," each band of horse strong enough and capable enough, took up the power and responsibility of leadership. Unicorns, old, wise and mysterious, took to the north, hidden in forests of mists and shadows and rarely making themselves known beyond their cliffs of the World's Edge. Equines, vast, organized and militaristic, split into two, one group went north to the Windtossed Foothills and the other group went south to the Dragon's Throat. Pegasus remained nomadic, making their homes in various parts of The Wilds in a migratory manner. For many generations, the land was peaceful and calm, but peace was never the way of the gods. With a clash of argument, war and bloodshed massacred Helovia, and in the aftermath, the realm was eerily quiet. Now, as newcomers sweep into this land, they are met with the lingering bitterness of the gods and the struggle to reclaim what was lost. Nothing remains safe or certain while sorcerers and soldiers alike brood and bide their time for revenge, honor and glory.
Site Wide Plots
Kaos :: The Beginning of the End ☼ - 6/2017 - Kaos placed Helovia in a time-bubble for a short period of time, but the Helovian gods are fighting back. But Kaos is powerful- far more powerful than anyone thought. This may be the beginning of the end of Helovia as we know it.
Kisamoa :: A New Kind of Kaos ☼ - 3/2017 - Kisamoa asks Helovians to help him restore the Spectral Marsh. Which side will you choose?
Invasions :: All Out War ☼ - 5/2/16 - New layout and the brand new invasion rules are up! Thank you for your patience and we look forward to getting started with this new adventure.
The Rift :: Gods Do Die ☼ - 8/2015 - Helovia Gods are saving the Rift from corrupt gods! Can Helovians band together against these foreign deities?
The Literal Ship ☼ - 2/8/15 - Oh no! You have to pair up for Valentine's day!
Sky Island :: Murder ☼ - 10/25/14 - Vesta has been found dead on the island, and the gods have called to you to solve the murder!
Sky Island :: Peace ☼ - 7/7/14 - An island has appeared in the sky! Clouds carry Helovians from the Veins to the sky.
Restoration :: We Welcome the Dawn ☼ - 9/21/13 - The sun has finally risen on this day, giving the land new light, but the Time God and the Sun God have yet to be seen.
Endless Night :: Broken Magic Plot ☼ - 8/30/13 - The earth god has returned and is walking across Helovia to heal the land. Every area can now be considered lush and prosperous, but the sun has still not risen.
☼ - 7/19/13 - The moon has risen in the sky, heralding the return of the Goddess of the moon. Lamp trees which light the paths have grown brighter, moon flowers which grow in dark places have begun to grow and prosper and the world is brighter, filled with a new hope.
Endless Night :: Dead Magic Plot ☼ - 6/22/13 - The gods of Helovia, in order to protect the world, have disappeared into the rift, leaving the world sunless, moonless and magic-less in their absence. Only the herdlands have a source of light, but lamp-trees with glowing leaves and branches sporadically line the popular roads and paths from place to place.
Doppleganger Plot ☼ - 6/20/13 - The God of Time is still struggling to close the rift though which the dopplegangers have come. He has requested that his brothers and sister assist in closing this hole, but without knowing why it opened, the task is proving difficult. Magic still remains faulty and hard to control, but the herdlands continue to be places of refuge for those who are fortunate enough to call these lands home.
ORANGEMOON cools off the lands with a a viscious force. Colder than normal, a sign of things to come during Frostfall, Helovia is bathed in a rich tropical lushness - albiet a cold one. The coastlines of the Dragon's Throat are pelted constantly by tidal waves, and the desert climate is humid but chilly. Ice begins to form early in the Aurora Basin leaving the winding trails slick and dangerous. The mists of the World's Edge coat everything in a glistening crystalline shine which encourages mould to grow everywhere. The Spectral Marsh is the only area which remains fertile, blissfully temperature and lush.
Cotm
Character of the Month for
June, 2017
WEAVER, Corporal of the Aurora Basin, is a relatively recent addition to Helovia and has taken it by storm. Branded with the seal of Death on her chest, intrigue and interest follow both her past and present. Though she is assuredly beautiful, her sometimes sharp personality reveals that there is more to this uni-peg hybrid than meets the eye. Proving herself able on the battlefield in the Basin’s warrior ranks, we can’t wait to see her test her mettle against the looming Kaos happenings! Congratulations!
Helovia RPG was created by Tamme and Blu and coded by Tamme also known as Schwartze. All coding, palettes and imagery are copyrighted to the website and are not for use outside of Helovia. Thank you to our ServerMaster for hosting Helovia. A special thanks goes to Neo for all of her coding help and fixing Tamme's errors, Boom, for her loyal service and creation of the Time God, and to Ali for her consistent contributions and dedication.
What do you get when you put a lot of horses in a cave? Chaos. That's what Windwalker thought as he walked away from Africa, Cypress and the rest of the herd. He just could not stand having his personal space invaded by horses he did not know or trust. Of course, there was one who he always welcomed into his space, but she had her eyes on another as she played with his heart. How long until she broke it? He let out a sight a his hooved brought his body closer to the entrance. He knew she was confused, he could easily see it in her eyes. But it hurt nontheless.
The black stallion almost refused to think about how it could end if the other stallion continued to show affection for his Africa. Was he ready to fight for her? Maybe. Last time it ended badly and he had sworn to himself that he would never fight again, until it was absolutely necessary. He tried to find something else to occupy his mind and soon found it in a stallion standing guard inside the entrance. Wind did not want to startle the guy, so he gave a small cough before he spoke. "Greetings friend. I am Windwalker. I believe we have not met."
Of course they had not. He had been too busy with Africa and walking around feeling stoned. Sometimes he hated himself so much that he wanted to smash his head against a rock. But as always, his face did not betray this thoughts or insecurity. He had learned. Learned that if he acted calm and composed, others would like him more. Maybe that was where he failed som miserably? Either he showed too much or too few emotions. He had to think about that later.
As his deep voice got absorbed by the stone around them, the crisp air lifted his mood. He could almost see outside from here. Oh, how he missed walking in the snow and the rain, with only the wilderness to keep him company. He was not made to live in a cave or under the ground. It was hard to stay focused on the other, but he managed it. He would pay anything to be able to walk around freely again, without darkness and wraiths to limit him.
The feeling of anxiety in cramped quarters was shared by all who stood by. We are children of sand, desert folk that had grown used to a wide heaven above and crimson granuels beneath our hooves littered with the blood and tears of our kin and foes alike. Though this room was gigantic (large enough to hold 4x what we brought). It felt small in comparison to the boundless home we had just come from.
Holy flames from our manes and tails temporarily tamed darkness, casting black shadows back into their dirty little holes. I spared a concerned glance at Guacho, who was swamped with his own little group of our nervous family. We would be breaking words very soon. Much sooner if he planned for our brethren to stay within these walls for longer than a few days. I didn’t believe that the threat would simply vanish in a matter of sunrises, but we couldn’t stay here for weeks… months, could we? As the herd around me began to get settled till dawn, I decided to follow the trail back up--head toward the stars and see if there was anything to be done.
Sleep wasn’t going to be anyone’s quick friend tonight with all the excitement, and lastly not mine. Some night skinned fellow had the same idea, he clambered up ahead. I followed at a slow pace, unsure if he even knew I’d tagged behind. Each footfall struck heavily, loud to my ears, steps that were clumsy and unaccustomed to stone. Gold lingered all the while, trying in vain to amend the change. Beyond, the one called Windwalker, stood fiery orange individual who lingered in shadows; a figure I’d come to love as a brother over the years. He had only recently returned to our ranks as soldier. Restored from whatever travels that had led his path astray. Our brief exchange in the valley before this strange attack had been short and hastened by pressure, panic.
A smile touched my eyes before lips as Windwalker moved to greet Hector, “Aye,” I said after a moment of quiet had passed, “Hector, I would have liked to greet ye before this crazy started.” There is real warmth in my tone, a strange compassion that hadn’t been present since Ktulu had abandoned our love. “Welcome home dear brother.”
Full eyes shifted to the newcomer out of respect, still soft yet lacking previous emotion shared between those that had wrath blood together. For battle formed the tightest of brotherhoods, “Welcome friend, hopefully we shall be able to return to our proper home with haste.”
The fetid odour of the fouled creature lost had lingered for a long while by the entrance to The Sanctuary; not even the breath of wind curling playfully into the sunken passage could shift its taste. He had not been so rotten like word told of other wandering corpses, but the measure of his illness had been obvious enough. Hector watched devotedly there where he had remained after seeing the bat-winged stallion out; his mood indifferent and focused squarely upon the task at hand.
The rumble of voices rose from the deep, though the pitch remained relatively smooth and that was a signal to the giant warrior, that all was well enough where the herd had been laid in safety. Cautious ears swivelled constantly as they tracked the movement of wanderers and bemused new arrivals- though few they were (even the other herds had not arrived en masse to crowd the cave as yet); and it was the steady clack of hooves striking rock which drew his impassive expression from its station. Swiftly, Hector’s bright, orangey gaze shifted towards the dank, shadowy cavern's throat from whence a cool draft was delivered to buffer that from above, and with it, the swarthy silhouette of the Diviner’s most recent companion appeared. The other stallion coughed before speaking, and the soldier bristled through a flare of sudden mistrust; rapidly did that feeling disperse though, for Windwalker’s demure tone held not the gurgle of illness which burdened the last to pass.
"Well met brethren." The liver chestnut replied with a courteous and rather official dip of his large ivory decorated skull. His nature was not one of warmth and overflowing compassion, and out of habit he hid well any form of emotion which (scarcely) tickled his soul. "I am Hector, a soldier in our army. The weather out is not so enticing, do stay in where it is warmer." He added the final warning with unusual sensitivity should the smaller steed have been considering a dip through the fresh air. Certainly now was not the time to roam the lands, and Hector would suffer none of his clan to those wraith’s hunting above. Silence swept upon them again; the eerie sort whom settles only before the calm of the wildest storm, and the warrior’s eyes returned to the surface carefully- though one ear stayed conscientiously fixed to his company.
In rapid succession, the strike of hooves upon stone echoed again (still) from below, and through a gloss of dancing firelight another Pegasus came nearer to the surface- a face that caused the rigidity of the soldier’s stark gaze to sway. Passing his eyes across Windwalker thoughtfully, he offered a loose smile- the type one structured for life at war would be most easily capable of, and continued until his watch fell upon the approach of Midas. Hector filled with renewed warmth and fond sentiment, stepping with a generous nod towards his brother even while the painted stallion still spoke. "Crazy indeed... He repeated with a scoff, tossing consequently his ginger skull towards the filth lurking beyond the opening. "It has been too long brother. I thank you."
An air of relaxation was allowed to spill through the narrow atmosphere around the trio as the giant beast’s tension slackened in the company of an old friend; practically family it was undeniable. Hector glanced by the doorway dutifully once again before coming to settle his attention more gently than before upon Windwalker, as the gilt stallion addressed him courteously.
• Dragon's Throat Rank Experience: Fortify | Level 3
• Permission given for moderate power play, magical influence and damage at all times
Keen ears had picked up the sound of a horse following him, but he never turned around to see who it was. He would know soon enough - and he did. Midas were not a horse you forgot the sight of, neither the apperance nor the way he looked at you. He realized how small and worthless he was, standing here with two other stallions, both with an important place within the herd. It was why he had never considered to look for a place among others - until now.
The air felt lighter so close to the entrance, but still something pressed against his chest and made it hard to breath. The suggestion from Hector that he should go back down and the lack of emotions in their voices, did not make it easier. Why had he expected things to go so different? As his left wing began to ache of the cold, he tucked it as close as his body would allow, but still the pain forced him to be present. His eyes sought neither one of the stallions as he asked his question. "Is there something I can do to help? Anything?"
It was not his intention to sound like he begged, for he did not, but words could easily be misunderstood. He had do find something meaningful to do, quick, or he would loose his mind and scare the crap out of everyone in the cave. It was not something he wished to do, especially with Africa there. So he glanced at Midas, hoping he had the answer to his recent prayers. If not, maybe Hector would help.
I smirked when Hector scoffed at my attempt at a jest toward our situation. There was really nothing other than crazy to describe how we had come by living in this massive hole. Noticeable tension fled his eyes and relaxed the stern rigid line of his spine. I returned the gesture with a soldiers salute, touching my chin to breast and brushing against the golden gem within the steel that hung soundly around my shoulders. Windwalker seemed put back, and certainly out of place when it came to the reunion of battle kin. He asked for a job, a task that would occupy his time.
My gaze shifted to his brilliantly dark eyes, cloudy with restless intent. They were a warm chocolate brown in the light, but murky enough to be almost mistaken for a cloudy black. I considered for a moment, sharing the sentiment of a disposition that disliked idleness. Finally, tilting my head aside I offered, “Aye, there is work to be done. But I fear such tasks might prove deadly and an unwise attempt of fools.”
There simply wasn’t enough information to even form a counterstrike against those that would oppress us, how could we risk our brethren to the coming tide…for the sake of mounting a borderline defense that would fail in all accounts? “Keep the peace for now Windwalker, explore the caverns thoroughly. I wouldn’t want to be taken by surprise if there is an entrance to this place that we are not finding.” One ear slipped back, “Report all findings to myself or Guacho.” People would start to worry and get restless very soon. We couldn’t stay cooped up in this place forever.
By no means was the chestnut’s intention to wind uncertainty and misplacement into the demeanour of the black stallion; perhaps his manner was blunt or curt, that was not because arrogance strummed the rhythm of his large heart though. Many years had been spent by the giant stewing and brooding over the cruelty of family; the better blood, and their alienation despite his relentless quest to better himself for the sake of their eyes. He was not unfamiliar with the tides of bitterness and inadequacy that spewed without warning into thought and action, but after much practice and still more application, Hector had overwhelmed his demons.
Always now he thought firstly of this family; those who had welcomed his bleeding ego and sour heart without question, and embraced the skills he had sharpened beneath the sensible eyes of his tutor, Chrysos. There had been no doubt glossing their kindness; no slyness masked by their generosity. The orange giant could not replicate that same compassion- it was not a trait engraved through his quite detached being, but he tried all the same to offer some crude comfort to those sharing his home; to pay the grace bestowed upon him forward as best he might.
Windwalker seemed unamused by the droll banter between the friends, and Hector watched him closely like a soldier watching over the townsfolk. There was a gentle simplicity about him, one which the warrior could not truly relate to, but the other asked none the less for a task and that was to be commended while times were so fraught. Certainly, he thought, if The Gallant could not put him to work, two eyes guarding the fort would be of more benefit than one. Midas did speak however, and Hector naturally held quiet- another time perhaps, the raven stallion could take duty. Veci would be on hand regardless of who held firm the entrance.
After the worthy delegation had been proffered, Hector nodded decisively, and his large cupped ears fell towards the newly ranked. "Are you a fighting man?" He asked firmly, his deep voice not reverberating quite so drastically while the outside peeked wickedly in- with cold stone walls surrounding, the soldier’s tone was more like a startling boom amid the nervous trembling of lowered whine. "Have you yet joined the herd’s defence?" Naturally, he thought seldom of the other positions; he was devoted and while respect was given to those studying, crafting, seeing or stealing, his focus was set upon the army.
• Dragon's Throat Rank Experience: Fortify | Level 3
• Permission given for moderate power play, magical influence and damage at all times
The black stallion lived up to his name, even if he would not become a part of the sky. He was as restless as the wind and walking never seemed to be a problem. Two years of nomadic life showed plainly thorugh the charcoal fur, enhanced by his baroque built and the way he moved. He could do both the tasks they asked of him - not at the same time of course, but he could do them.
"I've fought, yes." he answered the soldier, as Midas never asked him a question. "Both for fun and to kill, but I have never thought about doing it for others." The truth he spoke, as he had never put his life on the line for someone else. He had never had anyone to fight for, except himself. It showed plainly on his face that he thought about to possibility, but as he had no training nor the mind for it, he did not give an answer. This was dangerous times and he had already escaped from the wraiths one time. Next time he might not be so lucky.
"If you would allow me, Midas, I will explore the caves as much as my body will allow. If there is some place I can not enter, I will tell you." He accepted the task with a nod of his head, almost as deep as the black and white pegasus had done earlier. "And if you need something from me when I come back, I will offer my eyes and ears to Hector, if he needs them" He kept to himself that the reason he could not fly, was because of a fight. If it came down to it, he would not have any control of himself and others may be hurt in his mayhem. Silently he prayed it would not go that far, but he knew it was out of his hands.
Hector was a fighter at heart, and a strong one—it was no surprise to me when he asked if Windwalker had any talents that pertained to war. Talents that would prove useful in the coming weeks if we were expected to mount any sort of counterattack to Helovia’s strange occurrence. Every warrior, young and old might be expected to join a coming fray—and I had this sinking feeling (though wouldn’t have voiced it aloud), that death was to be our reward; and salvation would become a distant memory. Something about this nightmare was very different, almost, unbeatable. We had no proof that our enemy could be returned to their previous forms—or even that the spread could be hindered. But neither did we know if our magic and strikes wouldn’t do harm. All we knew was that this cave, and its inhabited had to be defended at all costs.
Windwalker responded honestly, admitting to a lack of military training. Something that we’d have to rectify, if time for such still remained before the grim decay appeared at our doorstep. I offered the newblood a warm smile, rare to come by, with so much heartache around us. “Yar, it is well. Train with your fellow brethren and hone your battle skills—they will likely be needed very soon.” The end of my sentence was quiet and hard, but also not absence of compassion for his circumstance. It was horrible that we had to remain crammed underground like whelping bitches. “What do ye make of this…illness?” Bottomless gaze shifts to regard Hector, softening as they shift from impersonal to something more kindred.
A mist pregnant with the repulsive hint of rotten eggs- of sulphur, decay and lust, wafted down into the entrance where the trio were gathered and the brawny chestnut stiffened responsively. The same hue now blanketed much of Helovia; it was pungent and foul, and enough to keep his regular patrols well beyond the traipsing of those hopeless souls who dwelt through the darkening fog. The fleeting glimpse of one partially rotted equine passed before his widening eyes; Veci was watching above them, guarding and noting those who ventured across the parched clay-soil of the Heart. In the same moment the long bony tail behind him began to flick, clean plumes of opulent fire, auburn and gold, snapping harshly left and right. No images followed, and the boggart above seemed to disconnect again, to vanish- and so too did the odour disperse.
Windwalker answered readily, and the sparkling gaze of the vigilant soldier returned to examine him; to rove the span of his body and pick out those blemishes which should matched the revelation of his tongue. Indeed there were scars though old and faded they seemed to be, and Hector likened them to medals of valour; envisioning the battles he had faced before falling upon these ailing grounds of Helovia. A reverent nod trailed the black stallion’s waning words, though for a few lasting moments he could not pull away his clever attention from the lazy slouch of one white dusted wing. Midas followed quickly in response, and Hector was neither relieved, nor concerned that he had not spoken again sooner- the giant was a creature lost for words; idle banter was not his specialty.
The fresh face spoke again; though his thoughts apparently were not set on war- like Midas’ and Hector’s combined. It was true that not all folk favoured the brilliant art form, and that was fair enough- he supposed. The other spoke as though wounded already he was, that he should be left to scope the caverns still deeper than had been done already, and if a brow had rested above the orange beast’s eye, it might have cocked just then. For now it did not cross his stark black and white mind that the Pegasus he conversed with was flightless- there was still a limb attached to each shoulder after all.
"If you wish a mentor to train and spar with. Seek me out when you return from the depths." He added simply at last, and ruffled the vibrant feathers lining each wing held close beside- there was no doubt in Hector’s mind that Windwalker would be an asset should he decide to commit to the task.
Midas turned then to look upon the tri-bred stallion with bottomless pools of shining gold, and a half-smile found purchase across his tapered maw for the sake of his brother. "We have fallen into strange times." He spoke quietly and honestly, wishing not to flood the crowd below with fuel for panic and still greater fear. The ivory horns dressing his hard, white-streaked expression lowered closer. "I thought the last darkness was the end of all life. This though?" He paused and took a hesitant breath, feeling almost silly for the query he would present next- "How can we fend off creatures that do not seem to live; what magic could aid us? Veci shows me what our lost brethren have become and I fear they are lost now…" Hector’s chiselled skull shook grimly. “We cannot abandon them.”
@[Windwalker]
• Dragon's Throat Rank Experience: Fortify | Level 3
• Permission given for moderate power play, magical influence and damage at all times
A feeling of importance settled in what felt like an old, used body, as Windwalker recieved something that felt like praise. He glimpsed the chance of a futured filled to the brink with tasks that would do good and even bring a difference into someone's life. As he floated away on those thoughts, a boulder came and knocked him out of it. It was a boulder of truth, reality and darkness. He could not fly nor function while these goddamn wings still remained a part of his body. His brown gaze fell upon the link between his body and what to him had become a curse.
He had to do something and soon. These would drive him mad or even push him beyond the land of the living, and what would he have accomplished when that day came? Nothing. No one would remember him or even offer a thought to his memory. Now, his body boiled with something else, determination. With the feeling blazing through his eyes, he lifted his head and gave a nod. "I will do it right away." It even crept into his voice, but his words never trembled. He knew what he had to do.
Without further ado, he turned on his heels and began to seek the way down. He left them with a promise that he would do anything in his power to help, even if it ment personal sacrifice. He would do it now and be done with it.
Windwalker acknowledged our orders/advice rather well (considering the line of command had very suddenly been mostly severed). He then turned and left us alone to linger as we might. I stepped up, positioning myself to join the orange haired warrior at his evening watch. In this confusing time, I was hardly a Sultan anymore. It seemed more like a group effort would be keeping our families neck above water that threatened to do more than just drown, but engulf. I nodded as the newblood went away, glad to finally have someone in our clan who actually took an interest in the wellbeing of his family—instead of just waiting to be told what to do. Hector answered my question in his typical fashion that gave me a glimpse of that concerned but steady soul beneath a hardened glaze of armor.
His head shook grimly and I reached out reflexively, offering my strength while gently attempting to brush across his shoulder in brotherly affection. “Ye speaks true, we can’t yet stand against them. Maybe the gods will know how?” Slowly I withdrew and glanced somberly toward the misty darkness and swelling burnt crimson lava flumes, “Perhaps these are the end of days and we are all doomed,” a sour smirk creases the corners of my face, and gaze narrows as worry lines grow ever more present, ever more tighter. There was fear, but not for myself or even our warriors, but for those that wouldn’t survive in this new world. Foals, untested mares and yearling colts. So many lives lost, and for what? “Can they be changed? Is such an idea nothing but false hope?”
The new-blood’s drive was well received; a self-starter who could work autonomously was a rare treat, and Hector acknowledged the stallion’s determined departure from the little group with a ceremonious nod. Windwalker’s pace echoed wildly at length as he made his way down the dimly-lit passage and into the depths of their refuge, and the giant’s attentive ears swivelled frantically, agitated by flood of sound before it faded again into the eerily quiet murmurings. Mindful eyes trailed thoughtfully until they returned only the dull simmering glow of the cavern which lay beyond, and then slowly they swept back to find the black and white king who had risen already to perch on the doormat-rock alongside. A respectful, loyal nod welcomed Midas spontaneously.
Together their hot, formidable scent filled the entrance to The Sanctuary, and Hector could feel the swell of his own testosterone; the zeal for battle roused by memories of troops gathered close, and that pungent force rising like an impenetrable wall around them. The hair along his spine bristled as he shivered at the touch of his brother- had not Midas seen this herd through grim times before? The soldier nodded literally at the silent thought, and the swish of his smooth ginger forelock dislodged the small army of flies brave enough to find the position of his shining eyes there beneath the earth. He wondered curiously for how many years his friend had served the Throat’s army, considering also the many opportunities that had built the long-standing trust which the folk below held in him. Compassionate and fierce, the once General was perhaps their last breath of hope; and even Hector had noticed their riding his every word.
The chestnut both pitied and respected that burden which cloaked the Sultan- and he felt an overwhelming sense of empathy through that tight brotherhood shared. He was not an emotional soul (not any more), but the bond between them was unfathomable.
Midas spoke frankly, but the soldier could not find trace of the utter despair and hopelessness that seemed to echo through the thinnest of minds around them- he presumed some faith remained. Hector’s pensive gaze wandered also, drifting to find the dull sky beyond out of habit, but the emptiness afar gave his mind some quiet to work within. He could not help but return a wry glance to the other at the mention of doom, but its graze was brief.
"So many unanswered questions." He huffed almost impatiently, questioning privately, weakly, the presence and influence of the four deities now; with all this uncertainty and grief tearing to pieces the mortals who worshiped them so feverishly. "Have any tried prayer since the last message relayed from the Oracle?” Hector still didn’t look to the veteran warrior, though what he actually meant was had Midas called to his Lord lately- the Earth God, he recalled diligently. The giant favoured the Sun God, though his commitment was swayed by association of the Throat, and his affinity to all things fire. He was not yet the spiritual soul perhaps required to summon such favourable notice from those overbearingly powerful… beings.
He supposed they could call on Africa to summon the king of light again, but how thick honestly was the thread of their patron’s patience?
"What relevance have the fire and fountain downstairs?" The thought had come quickly- his mind was sharp, but he was no philosophical thinker and rarely reached beyond the narrow-minded love of his field. "Do you think those depictions need to be studied a little closer?" He could not help but ponder their meaning and significance- and he was suspicious that this fissure holding them now, had revealed itself so conveniently and in such an unimaginably timely way. His knees stiffened and so did his mind. Finally a calculating gaze lowered to find the reaction of his brother.
• Dragon's Throat Rank Experience: Fortify | Level 3
• Permission given for moderate power play, magical influence and damage at all times
I felt his frustration through voice and movements, for it was an echo of the concerned throbbing’s that shuttered my own heartbeat out of pace on quiet occasion—more so when kin all around us turned hope into a fleeting creature of mythical origin. So quickly did those of weak temperance lose faith in their leaders and childhood morals when the times turned hard, and then held fast when no measure of discomfort can be had. Perhaps it was our fault for being shortsighted, or not taking the opportunity to see what those who turned a blind eye to. When the orange warrior asked if our family had offered prayer toward the deity which guarded our home and lands, or any deity for that matter; muzzle shook back and forth slowly, unmarred façade remained the picture of calm , “I know not dear brother. There are many voices that cry out, though none of late have shouted to heaven. Ye can be assured that prayers still rise for their sake by these lips.” He knew my raising, indeed we had very nearly grown up from yearlings together—his time in Helovia had been shortened by a season or so.
Earth still held my attention, and unwavering faith that his unyielding stream of patience wouldn’t abandon us—and Sun wouldn’t allow his children of sand to fall into the afterlife without a glorious battle. My friend and long standing comrade then broached another question, this one capturing my attention. One ear slipped aside, knocking against my skull gently as curious goldenrods peered at him sideways, “Yar,” I replied softly, thinking about the possibility of their importance and coincidence. “There is little in this world that I would leave to luck, like this strange cavern that had only recently been discovered—after being lost for all these years.” Gaze shifted to stare at him steady, a small smile formed for his sake as I offered humorously, “Are ye of a studying mind? Those writings tell ancient tales that I fear not even my Da or his could have remembered.”
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