"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.
The romance of the beautiful pond set among colorful trees, fragrant flowers and languid vines was interrupted by a lifeless figure. Known only to a few, the warrior falls victim to the faceless death. Although her horn has fresh blood on it, surely the blood around her body is her own. Bits of blue mane have settled into the snow, crystallizing in beautiful arrays, thinking nothing of the horror that they lay so close to. She seemed to have tried to write something in the dirt before she died, but it can't be read - too many hoofprints have blotted out whatever message she might have left. However, were you to look closely, although you wouldn't be able to discern the word she was trying to write, you would find that the flesh on her sides was charred, as if by fire. As animals fluttered to and fro, the backdrop for her final rest could not be more ideal.
THE FIFTH CLUE...
I. The fifth clue, revealed from the death of ESTHER is CHARRED FLESH.
Miss the previous clues?
Not a problem! Just reply to this thread so that you can have access to clue 3 and any subsequent clues. You are welcome to continue forming teams and letting us know who is in the team in an OOC note at the bottom of your post.
Someone from each team must post here in order to have "found" the clue.
This clue will be available for ONE WEEK. During this week, you may post and submit your guesses via PM to the OFFICIAL ACCOUNT. At the end of one week (7 days), we will close this clue and post the fourth clue. Get in on this plot while you can!
12-04-2014, 05:47 PM (This post was last modified: 12-04-2014, 10:21 PM by Hotaru.)
It seemed even the paradise of lovers was not untouched by the darkness that was sweeping the land. After seeing her parents clutched in Death's fingers, Hotaru had begun to doubt herself and her mission. It had rattled her to see her mother pale and beautiful even in death cradled by the snows of the Steppe. No matter how the she-wolf had hated her parents, there were still scattered memories of joy and laughter, and she was mortal nonetheless. Even still she refused to succumb to her own weakness, making herself an example for Arya.
She had to persevere.
Birdsong had clutched the Grove with abandon, until greenery flourished and sprouted like weeds. The waters were blue with their frigid brilliance, a mockery of the death that had occurred. Murder, she corrected herself sternly. Not that it really mattered, truly. Hotaru was not interested in social justice excluding her parents. The bodies were just that to her, corpses that meant little to her. She did not attempt to find the killer in a group only because her first priority was Arya and her herd. Her herd which was fully capable of defending itself, massive as it was.
Her ribs no longer dance with shadows, greenery returning her slim but able figure from the cages of winter's barrenness. She moved swiftly with this recovered energy, sweeping in like the vulture her Goddess has required her to be.
She doesn't really care, she merely wants the power to protect her family. Her huntress.
So even though she finds it revolting she rips the charred flesh from the stranger's body. It tastes disgusting and she feels horrifically cannibalistic. She nearly wants to vomit but gagging suffices. Blood s stale and charred on her tongue as she gouges the already dead body. Dropping the mutilated pieces of evidence into the little pouch of woven ferns, she can hardly restrain the convulsing of her throat as she yanks beautiful blue hairs from her former herdmate to add to the basket, until she gags and runs to the water to wash her tongue of the taste. It does little to help and she feels distinctly sick. Stumbling away, her shame is far stronger than stealing from her own parents murder scene. She only hopes nobody saw her sins.
::Strong like the sea is stormy::
Please only tag starting posts, spars, and threads collecting dust! Plot with me here!
12-04-2014, 10:00 PM (This post was last modified: 12-05-2014, 06:30 AM by Megaera.)
The warhawk was tired but her broad wings kept her sailing over Helovia on her way back home to the Throat. Gaucho had sent her to investigate and her drive to fulfil that duty had kept her at a harrowing pace. She’d been to the floating isle and the deep forest and the fields. She had seen the black hairs and the black feathers and the sand. The sand… Her mind had jumped at once to her home in the Throat, but she would be loath to believe that any of her herd could commit these atrocities… Still the doubt lingered: she’d been away so long, who knows what snakes might have slithered into the nest.
The sun felt good on her back as she beat her way back from the frozen north, Megaera had always hated the cold lands, nothing good ever came the ice and the dark. Birdsong’s return did much to ease her frustration, but her mood was still dark at having been cheated of valuable information. When rumors of another murder had reached her as the investigated the fields, Meg had raced northward. She’d found the bodies easily enough, two this time, but she’d been too late to find anything that could have helped her discover the murderer’s identity. One of the last two slain had been a member of the throat too, though they had never met, and Meg heart was heavy with the dread of bringing that news hone to her Sultan.
Movement on the ground far below caught her attention and her sharp sight focused in on the scene. From her height it was had at6 first to tell exactly what was going on but one thing was immediately clear: one of the two figures on the ground was not moving. Invigorated by the idea of catching the culprit, Megaera cut off the steady swipes of her wings and folded the close to her body as she let herself fall into the dive. She hurtled toward the ground, body aimed toward the scene and eyes drinking in details as she fell. The figure that moved hovered over the second, definitely dead, body.
Was it… eating her?
Rage flared inside the little warrior. This was horrific, this was ungodly, this was sacrilege! Before she could reach the ground, the pink and pale unicorn moved to the water and then stumbled from the grove. A bellow of rage left her as her iron-hard flints crashed into the soft ground. Instinct and anger had her chasing a few steps after the unknown cannibal before skidding to a halt. She was here to investigate, not avenge. Gaucho needed knowledge, not more blood. Impatient as she was, Meg made herself turn and examine the body. The unicorn was laid out on her side and blood seemed to be everywhere except…. That was odd… no new blood had flown from where the other beast had ripped at her side, this one might have died hours before. And there was something else, in her agitated state she nearly missed and still, paid little mind to it: the faintest scent of burned flesh was mixed with that of blood and death. Megaera would know that smell anywhere, had reeked of it once when she’d nearly perished in the fiery pit of Helovia’s Heart. It wasn’t a stench that one forgot. With her head bent low she committed the scene to memory the picked up her feet to race in the direction the monster had fled.
CSI:Helovia
FAC FORTIA ET PATERE
be brave and endure
:: permission given for use of magic and force :: please tag Megaera in all posts ::
The day was warm, finally Spring had come. I believe they called it Birdsong here. Snow could still be seen here and there, but buds were blooming, and the fragrance of flowers was already present. I had never been there before; in the Secret Grove, but it was a most beautiful place.
Trees were growing strong, animals slowly creeping out of their hiding places to see the new world. However, the beauty did not last, for a most horrid scent filled my nostrils. The scent of charred flesh. The smell was old, but it still lingered; an undercurrent to the flowery smells.
My hooves turned by themselves, silently leading me to yet another corpse. I stand there uselessly, staring at the remainder of what must have once been a beautiful horse. I realised I did not know her, nor had I ever seen her. She slept in a puddle of her own blood, so pitiful and helpless. But, there was blood on her horn...surely that was not her own? Whoever was killing these innocent souls surely must have been strong, for the crumpled corpse before me appeared to be strong once upon a time. Strong and healthy. What could be such an overpowering source?
But it was clear she had put up a fight. But she was not strong enough.
I raised my head and turned away from the body, walking away without looking back, as if in a trance. I went on my way to my friends in the fields; maybe they would understand the sadness and mystery I felt.
"Speech" Tag;; @[Fig] @[Parelia] @[Ira] Notes;; The four strangers; Kirah, Ira, Fig, Parelia.
Credits: Whit's tables were an inspiration | Coding by Schwartze | Image
Eternal vexation crooned deep into the bellows of his fury, washing, plaguing, varnishing over the chaotic shambles of his treacherous incantations, for no sooner had he wandered through furtive groves and anarchic boughs, had his eyes twisted upon another stolen, spoiled frame: one of their own. A Basin femme, a life span annihilated, cut short, massacred at the hands of the unknown, cataclysmic and abysmal, with not a single answer shorn from all of the clues, all of the information, spilled across the vile scenes; they hadn’t been quick enough, swift enough, to ensure a beast of the north safe returned to her tundra and valleys. Her funeral had been unjust, unkind, ill-fitting for a shield of the mountains, a pariah’s execution. He stepped all the more closer, recognized pieces of blue and lines in the sand, flesh removed, hollowed, torn and ripped away, clenched his teeth for the loathsome death, because something had crossed the line and blurred his vision until he saw vengeance building across his eyes, penetrating and vile, vicious and malevolent, slivered and expanding, boiling in the annals and crescendos of his anarchic haze. He studied the patterns of charred flesh, the last remaining coals and embers marking her as passed, as deceased, as burned and surrounded by one final blaze, and the horrible, monstrous opus of his nocturnal prowess sharpened, keened, ignited. The Reaper, Siberia’s King, the northern Lord, gave her one final nod of his head, a solemn oath, a bestial promise, a mayhem conviction, of finding her murderer amidst the broken hallelujahs and the christened reveries – and tred, softly, powerfully, swiftly, away from the sliced threads and fallen sword, jaw tightened, rapier brandished, motivation spurned and incited all the more. He ripped the shackles away and pieced together the ides of abhorrence, and like a bestial, behemoth display, unraveled through the night.
Some say you're trouble, boy Just because you like to destroy All the things that bring the idiots joyWell, what's wrong with a little destruction?
It is almost funny to him: a mare smelling of cold, her flesh burnt, thrown from flames. An amusing paradox.
He feels nothing as he looks down at the broken body; what a pretty thing, so frail, useless. He wonders why the animals of this place haven’t devoured her corpse as of yet—but oh, this is a peaceful spot, isn’t it? He remembers the glade, its serene waters, its aroma soft and fragrant, freshened by the dawn of spring, the emergence of delicate breezes upon warm air. A stage for love, perhaps; the scene of death, surely. The paradoxes abound.
It’s the flame-kissed flesh of the unfortunate nag that sets him ablaze. He couldn’t care less about the wasted female; that ugly thing tucked underneath her tail doomed her to failure, anyway. No, it is charred skin and blackened meat that captures his attentions. He knows such a smell; he feels the blister of his chest, the taut skin of his stomach where hair only reluctantly begins to grow.
The memory.
He can smell her.
Faint, nostalgic, soft in the delicate breezes upon warm air.
He grinds his molars. He stalks away from the corpse. He will find his comrades, his own Jorogumo, his purring little spider bitch that, somehow, he has attributed this sudden flush of wrath. He has decided it is her problem that she must deal with, to exorcise from the troubled Grey-Eyed prince. Hadn’t he cast aside the foolish demon inside of her? Wouldn’t it be proper to reciprocate the gesture?
The springtime is lovely in that glade; the water flows like glass, and birds chiitter. He discards it all, behind him.
[Posting for The Sons of Anarchy]
"talk talk talk"
day1953@pbase
--Please tag REGINALD in every reply!
--All force is allowed to be used against this character!
Ew. Okay, I can add “arsonist” to the really short list of helpful shit I got on my side.
But still--ew. It was actually kind of awful finding the body like that, all burned up in addition to dead-as-all-hell. My whole body was covered in blisters and really, really sore scabs besides. It wasn’t pretty but I was dying either; I just hated fired at the moment with a flaming passion (huehueh—but no, seriously, fuck fire). I knew how much it could hurt, how awful it could be—and I could only imagine how terrible it was to actually die by it. Yeah, I bet it sucked.
She might not have died from the fire itself, said this annoying voice in my head, this analytical voice that thought about shit all the time. It was starting to annoy me, this voice, because all I really wanted to do was just beat the crap out of whatever was doing this stuff. But can’t do that until I know what’s going on, so. Hmm. Gotta keep the voice. I guess.
Someone somewhere might say it was an indication of growing up, a mile-stone or whatever, that said I was starting to get a grasp on whatever crazy responsibility I was trying to handle. Which is bullshit because I still don’t know what I’m doing—I’m just not bitching about it as much as I used to.
Maybe that’s the secret: no one knows what they’re doing.
“Eeegh,” I muttered, freaking myself out with that thought. I shook it off and kind of gingerly made my way around the corpse, snapping mental pictures of it in my head and analyzing everything about it. Gingerly because ow my body was still hurting from that thing I had been doing, some time ago, what with the scabs and the gross-nasty blisters ‘n whatnot. I mean, it was a nice break from all the hell that the world was catching, right?
Right?
Yeah, I’m not convinced either.
I sighed/snorted and planted my feet and closed my eyes, trying to think of smoke and black and red and trying to figure if anything like that had to do with fire.
I closed my eyes. It was getting easier. Which made it scarier, if that makes sense (Spoiler: it doesn’t).
12-08-2014, 01:49 AM (This post was last modified: 12-08-2014, 01:51 AM by Rei.)
Rei “In a world filled with hate, we must still dare to hope. In a world filled with anger, we must still dare to comfort. In a world filled with despair, we must still dare to dream. And in a world filled with distrust, we must still dare to believe.”
― Michael Jackson
Rei hummed as she crashed through the Secret Grove. So lost in her made up song there was no thought in her about possibly attempting a more graceful stroll through the breathtaking area. Or it was supposedly a stunning area; she tossed her head into the air bobbing it from side to side in rhythm to her humming. Rei even had her eyes closed. The pegasus was oblivious to her surroundings.
A squirrel weaving in-between her legs screeching at her for venturing too close to its home jolted Rei back to the real world. Her eyes flashed open and widened in shock before clamping shut again. A crowd had surrounded a body. Why had she not noticed the smell sooner? Had she really allowed herself to become so distracted?
First one eye slowly opened while the other scrunched up tighter before following the other's lead. Rei looked at those who had gathered. There were no mournful cries, no one was demanding vengeance. Those gathered didn't seem to hold much of any emotional connection to the unicorn that laid before them. They were looking her over.
Then it dawned on her. This was another one of the mystery murders. It wasn't long ago that she had spoken with Midas about dragging the killer to justice herself, but seeing death before her brought his words of caution to mind.
Rei took a moment to steady herself and with a gulp she plucked a few flowers to be placed on the dead mare's mane before stepping forward to look at the muddled clues left behind.
Credits: Thank you Shady and Tamme!
Magic usage is okay.
Just ask before doing any actions that may cause a great deal of damage first.
I am also okay with being tagged.
I can fake a smile, I can force a laugh. I can hold the weight of worlds.
Clue after clue these murders seemed to get more and more sinister the longer it goes on. Dead lovers and random other bodies it seemed that maybe these murders were random. Who would feel the need to murder random horses though? There was an Island that seemed to be a gift, and now someone wanted to cast a shadow of doubt over it by murdering? Elsa creased her brow as she flew towards the place where it seemed that another murder may have occurred.
She flew, quickly closing the space and reaching the Secret Grove. She had only been here once in her life, when she first met Rostislav, other than that, she had basically been living within the falls only. It was kind of sad really, realizing that she needed to get out much more than she had originally thought. Coming over the Secret Grove now, she spotted a body lying on the ground. Elsa cringed and looked away, but landed nearby to get a closer look.
Tentative hooves brought her closer to the body. It was another unfamiliar face, blue hair stuck to the ground in a grotesque position of death. Something happened here for sure, many hoof prints cover the ground, and something that looks reminiscent of a word. It is unreadable though, so she moves on. Upon looking at the actual body, it looks at if it is charred flesh. It's black and cracked like one who has been burned. Elsa cringes, so whomever this is most likely has fire. Fire was something Elsa was not exactly fond of.
So, gathering the information quickly she heads back into the sky. She does not stick around long enough to see if the murderer will return, instead she will head back to deliberate. Whomever this is needs to be stopped soon, because Elsa is not about to go out in flames.
"Talketh."
[The Melting Pot]
I can dance and play the part if that's what you ask.. give you all I am.
but i'm only human. and I bleed when I fall down.
it only hurts when that door is opened lies get tossed and truth is spoken
This place brings memories to the surface, some that are fond, others are less so. These tranquil lagoons are where chance began my failed courtship with Ktulu, and shortly after these willows had witnessed the creation of a child. She'd left me when the road got bumpy, and I never gave chase. Tis something that used to weigh on my soul, regret. Years later I'd moved passed that particular grief and onto fresh problems, far more troublesome than lost love.
One such issue has been escalating, and we've gotten no closer to finding a solution. Another Helovian lay dead in the grass, Birdsong seemed to carry on without care for the gruesome gore that was splattered across her face. Charred flesh, the smell of cooked meat. A revolting essence, one I remembered from war. Yar, but this is not an act of violence that is born from a fray which was both honorable and victorious. This is pointless slaughter.
Pieces of red meat hang in loose shreds, pulled from the fur as if something or someone had already begun feeding; yet there is no scent or track of a predator that would dine on horse. Alas, much like all the others, there is little evidence. I sigh, reserved and mournful. Limbs move to turn my frame North, toward home. Away from the revolting taste of smoked skin. I glance at the individuals who'd come to witness, all are grim, none are hopeful. My face is tight with concern, we all knew that these bodies are mounting.
Something, some inner feeling beckoned me from the cold walls of the Basin and out into the world. Around my neck hung my newly acquired prize. A token of apology from the leader of the Falls. Was he truly forgive from his actions? Oh hell no. I would never forget what the jerk had done to all the invitations. He had burned them, just because he could. With a snort, I entered the Secret Grove. I am not sure why it is called such as it's not much of a secret to all of Helovia it seems. However what lays ahead that everyone is gathered around catches my attention.
The sight that met my eyes however, was one I wish I could remain unseen. My frame freeze as I take in the frame, charred and ripped open on the ground. Her black and blue mane, he mismatched hooves.... The anger boiled in my veins as I looked around, seeking anyone for an answer. That's when my eyes fell on him. The same one who had given me the amulet. Obviously if he was here he had not done this... But it was to him I spoke anyway. "Find who did this to her. You find them and make them pay...." My voice trembled with the pain. I could not take another step towards her, my knees buckled like the child I still am. My voice is soft as I cry. "Oh Momma... Why you.. Why now.. Momma..." I knew there was no use in asking her to wake up. I would never again see the brilliant blue that was her eyes. I would never lay in our cave with her... Well, I guess it was my cave now. My violet rimmed aqua eyes locked onto the one thing I knew I could take from her. I stood, moving to her head. With a squeal of anger and sadness I stomped on her horn hard as I could. It broke in half, and the broken half I leaned down and took in my teeth.
As I leaned up again, my eyes looked to all who remained. The hornless, the horned, and the winged. "Find who did this." Is all I can say before I turn, and race off for the safety of the Basin, of my cave.
"Sed interdum rutrum urna, sed pellentesque sapien tempor in."
((posting for her ic knowledge and character building))
I'm braver, because I fought a giant and won.
I'm stronger, because I had to be.
I'm happier, because I've learned what matters.
I stand taller, because I'm a survivor.
The world failed to become any better; her eyes adjusted to the bright, illuminated contortions of Birdsong, down towards the entrails of horror, the manifestations of terror still riddling, still clawing, across their lands. She swallowed the thickened bile enclosing her throat, the pungent disaster stinging her eyes, the brutal, barbaric truth that another one of their own had been taken, executed, slaughtered, and destroyed. Imogen sat in the vivid silence as Lena struggled to approach, because the form was familiar, a regular frame coasting across the Basin lines of glaciers, of hot springs, of caverns, and wouldn’t be seen there again. Esther she recalled from the meetings, from her young babe now stranded nearby, heart aching, voice shirking, and she couldn’t find anything to say that would hold meaning, value, beyond the encroaching flames gathering behind Mirabella’s gaze. If she’d ever been close to innocence, it was all squandered and slashed now, and the Mender, the Songbird, the gentle nymph hung her head for all the things they continued to lose, continued to forfeit and neglect. The meanings and purposes were cruelly expunged over and over again, and she could ask why until she lost all power of speech, and perhaps they still wouldn’t know why or what caused the monstrosities building, billowing, and brewing through the emerging catacombs. Kingdoms and havens were becoming tombs, and they were no closer to answers. Her stare, once upon the ground and then again on the fallen soldier, noted the flared, burnt, crisp edges of skin, the scarred remnants of ashen wakes, and sought to deliver one more decree for her team. It was the least she could do.
[Team Healers and Thieves!]
her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure love
Ghost may know many things, but not everything, that much is obvious. I find myself following a crowd, including my own leader Midas. After my time with Kiara... well. Though I enjoyed it I need a little postcoital stretching of the limbs. Those limbs have taken me off toward whatever it is that everyone is gathered around. What Ghost doesn't know? The latest clue.... I make my way around everyone, and the view is shocking juxtaposed to the beautiful blossoming of birdsong in the Secret Grove. I stand in silence as I stare at the body of what was once perhaps a beautiful specimen of a mare. Now there is blood all around her, and on her horn. I step closer to get a better look, trusting not the chatter of the others present to be my source of information. As I step closer a terrible scent reaches my nostrils and I pin my ears with disgust. Something horribly burnt.... I see now, the flesh of the poor lady is burnt, and what I smell is her burnt body. The poor thing to have suffered such a fate.
I look up at those around me, wondering what they make of it all. Midas, Deimos, Elsa, and many that I don't know are gathered here. I look at their faces, trying to see if anything betrays what is on their minds. Not enough for me to take back to my group of murder solvers. I will have to go back and find Kiara, Ghost, and the one I don't know as well - Vadim. They must hear about this latest clue. I look over the body one last time, taking her appearance down to describe to the others, maybe they know her. And so, I take my leave.
12-11-2014, 12:03 AM (This post was last modified: 12-11-2014, 12:04 AM by Kahlua.)
Her talk with Ophelia inspired her to remember what freedom was, to once again crawl from the depths of the Edge to explore Helovia. She thought, as she wandered, that she really ought to go to the floating island and check upon the tent. But then… she really ought to do a lot of things. And none of those things that she could think of that she ought to be doing, could be thought of without images of shackles and chains, cages and clasps, dancing at the edge of her vision. So today, even though she had plenty of things she needed to be doing, she was going to do what she wanted. At least… she was going to do what she thought she wanted.
Funny, how quickly ideas and plans for the future get changed…
Kahlua arrived at the scene, noticing the many faces and hoofprints of those who had come and gone. Another murder, another mystery, another body lying on the ground. So much death, and her and the others had been unable to solve this travesty so far. But she had faith. Resplendence and Jahzara and Nayati and she would get to the bottom of this. There had to be a solution. Something they were missing, something they were misunderstanding. She looked and looked. Last time she had seen a body there was sand, but for all the quick glances she dared to take at the dead body she could see nothing but charred flesh. It made her sick to her stomach. Fighting off a wave of nausea and pain, the queen turned away.
So much for that day of freedom. She had information to report.
Some days seemed better than others around this otherwise boring lands, particularly the days where I was able to actual meet other beings of interest that seemed worthy of my time. And naturally, there were days that were worse than most. Those are the ones that made my blood boil, the ones where they days drug on with the tenacity of slug surrounded by salt. The days where you feel trapped no matter which direction you go, and even if you do manage to break through the barrier, you are moving so painstakingly slow that you can feel your flesh writhing in agony and begging you to go faster. Or better yet, to find any means necessary to end your suffering. Today was already becoming one of those days, where I felt like that the day would never end and nothing could switch it up.
However, my day started to turn around for the better as I entered the Secret Grove. I had not been here since my first encounter with the little chestnut, who was now working for me to assist in the discovery of the murders. Perhaps I could find another equine of interest here? I couldn't even finish the thought before the metallic scent of blood violated my senses. Well, it wasn't quite the kind of action I was hoping to find, but it was a welcome change of pace anyways. I followed the smell until the sight of several others crowded around yet another fallen body came into view. Clearing my through, I eased my way through the crowd of those who lingered, just long enough to get a good look at the victim. My crown tilted towards the side when I spotted the unicorn's unusual injuries, her flesh burned and charred in a way that no natural fire could have done. Logging the information away into my memory, I gave a final snort before rounding back to try and find my oddball melange of a team to inform them of my findings.
The Devil's Harem
Panzram
Drom
Arvakl
Pompeii
Please tag Panzram in first posts only. Violence and magic can be used on him, just please do not kill or permanently injure/maim.
Another day another murder and another gathering of Helovia's residents to see what clues would be left behind by the perpetrator. When Phantom happened upon the scene the crowd was already large, each of the vying for information with a mixture of fascination and disgust. Her expression remained neutral as she moved among the crowd until she finally set eyes on the body of the horned mare. Her body was burned and it made Phantom think of Dorngarrow. There had been times during the endless wars that she had come across bodies that were burned far worse than this one was. At least this one was still was still identifiable.
Her gaze shifted briefly to a young filly as she broke the horn off of the dead mare. A keepsake? Phantom's ears tilted back momentarily then return to their forward position as the young girl turns and runs from the cave. Strange. The whole lot of Helovia's residents are quite strange. There isn't much for her to say to anyone that gathered to view the corpse and gather information so Phantom turned and made her way out of the cave to find the stallions that she had been paired with to solve the mystery. They knew far more, or so she thought, about Helovia's residents and their abilities than she did. Perhaps they would know of someone who had fire magic or easy access to fire.
ooc://
The Leage of Extraordinary Gentlemen... and Phantom
Ulrik
Deodat
Phantom
Varath
Archibald stood coldly over the corpse of the dead mare. Her horn was plastered with blood, and blood littered the ground around her. It was apparent, to him, that she had attempted to fight back, fight against this creature of darkness that had taken her life. Golden eyes stared down at her, taking into account her features. The Dauntless was no stranger to death, having dealt is fair share of the devil's hand. Archibald was a dealer of simple deeds, the bringer of death and justice and war, but not in this moment. In this moment, he was the protector of the realm. With his comrades in mystery, Archibald would discover who was bringing such havoc to these lands and bring them to justice--be it answering to the gods, or death. Whatever was crawling in these lands, with bloodthirsty lips and malicious hands, was a threat to his family, and no one harmed his family and stepped away unharmed. Ricochet felt the fire of that anger upon his hide, and it was only a whisper of the true danger Archibald was when provoked.
Turning, Archibald eyed those around him with little regard. Some he knew, some he did not. He spoke to none, but moved forth towards the Edge with powerful steel-clad hooves clicking against the hard earth. Loretta bound at his hooves, her head low and her eyes as stoic as her bonded. So many clues. So many it points to. She responded, glancing up to him as he lifted into a trot. We will scour the whole of Helovia before we let this death bringer dominate us, Loretta. For the rest of the journey the pair traveled in silence, the wind howling in their ears.
TEAM ATAK:
Archibald
Thor
Astraea
Ktulu
Through the ages of time
I've been known for my hate,
but I'm a dealer of simple choices;
for me it's never too late.
These deaths didn't make any sense to Ampere. That was the thought racing around her head when she landed beside this next fallen victim. Concern had really started to settle inside her each time their group met. The clues continued to grow, but their suspects dwindled in comparison, never seeming to fit inside all they had found. It was possible they had accidentally assumed a clue, but it seemed more likely that the killer, or killers (a fresh idea given the abundance and variety of clues), was just that different.
More than who though, Ampere wanted to know why.
The omens and the warning all lead to these murders, but she couldn't understand the purpose of them. If the murderer wanted to scare them, he had already done it, but now he was dragging it out. He'd already proven he could kill two horses, yet here was another single one, when Ampere had thought she might find three. Was there something in common with all the dead bodies, or was it purely random.
More importantly, how did all these deaths keep happening? By now everyone knew. All the herds were on high alert and even the outcasts weren't treading lightly, or alone, if they could help it. Yet continually these murders happened, with no witnesses, and no outcry for help. It was eerie, and more so that the gods were just as baffled. Nothing seemed overly supernatural other than perhaps the murderer itself.
Sighing Ampere took a close look at he charred flesh before getting back on her wings and searching for her crew of justice fighters.
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