"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.
A dragon, golden and glittering, pristine in her beauty and deadly in her intentions, walked towards the Edge this day. It was afternoon, the sun was not far from licking the horizon that was made up of the tops of the trees which littered the Edge. She walked, for that was the common mode of transport among her kin. Leathery wings clutched to her sides, scales gleamed across her sinewy hide. The long, draconic tail swished out behind her, as claws left curious indents in the loam beneath her weight. Mirage walked, as a dragon, towards a land that would become her home.
War.
It was not a word, or an idea, that appealed directly to the maiden. Her reasons for initiating this battle were complex, and she had considered them multiple times, and multiple times again, trying to see another solution. But until the Frosted King allowed her, and her kin, to reside here, she would use this method. And she would succeed.
The DragonHeart clutched onto the memories of the Moon Goddess' words. The Goddess sanctioned this battle, it was over the lands she blessed, the lands she truly ruled, and she did not oppose Mirage's intentions. This, alongside the devoted loyalty and strength Mirage found in her followers, allowed her to walk with confidence, and determination, towards her goal. The World's Edge. The Moon Goddess' own lands.
The Qian. Mirage had to wonder if even Mauja knew of them yet. Her allies certainly knew of them. Perhaps some individuals had fed him rumours of her fellows, her supporters. Perhaps he knew of the Qian, and discounted them to be meaningless against him, for he certainly made no effort to consort with Mirage - then again, it was not as if she specifically sought him out. The mare wondered whether, if she had bothered to spend effort on the cause, she would have been able to convince him once again to open his borders to any who called the Moon Goddess her deity.
If she held any true hope in that, however, she would not be approaching the lands with the intentions she held now.
Akaith warbled above her. The Qian, and associated allies, were also nearby, prepared for what would come. A draconic snort puffed out through the large golden one's slitted nostrils, smoke trailing in its wake. Mirage stopped, at the treeline of the Edge, careful to take in every detail she could. Her visit to these lands may have only been brief previously, but still she felt pulled to them, she yearned for them. No others could ever match the comfort of her Lady Luna's own lands.
"World's Edge, land of unicorns, I ask you - Accept our desire to share your land with us so that we might have a home, or feel the force of the Qian and its allies!"
The dragon-mare did not like to give ultimatums, she did not like to be the initiator of a war that would like echo throughout the ages of Helovia. Words of a friend echoed in her mind, small seeds of doubt threatened to grow - no, she told herself, she was here to secure her home and future for the Qian - here was where her mind would focus until the battle was fought and the victors crowned.
[555 words.
Round One. Please be sure to be well versed on the rules of this style of invasion, found here.
"Round One consists of entry posts for all character involved in the invasion. The first round is the only round that will last for five days. If your character fails to post within the first round, they are not allowed to be involved within the invasion."
It was strange, this magic the craft shadow mare possessed. He watched, warily, as the dragon walked ahead, having only just gotten used to the idea of smaller dragons as companions. It was a lot for him to take in, on top of everything else a General does. Training his own warriors, with some volunteering to test their abilities in this very battle, keeping the borders of his home safe, and his favourite thing of all, spending time with his family - he was a stallion with too many things to do, and too little time in which to accomplish everything.
But his appearance here, today, was about honour. About returning debts owed. Loyalty. Trust. The foundations upon which their own herd was built, extended to their firm alliance with the group that had aided them in ensuring victory upon what was now their home. He walked, a little way behind the dragon, his thoughts drifting with the afternoon breeze to things that seemed irrelevant to the moment. He wondered at the whereabouts of his daughter, he hoped she would stay away from the action. Likewise with his very pregnant mate - he had informed them of the happenings, and pleaded that they stay safe behind the borders of their homeland.
He was a warrior, seasoned for battle and fit enough to win when pitted against even a formidable enemy. But the World's Edge were not their enemies, were they? He wondered, idly, at the 'alliance', or mutual understanding, Kri held with the King of this land, and he would honestly admit to being concerned of inviting challenges to try and breach their borders. But we are a strong herd, with strong lines of defence.. We will successfully face off any obstacle to our peace.
As they neared the lands, nerves finally began to swell within the stallion. His step became larger, his nape arched higher, his crown was held with a majesty owed to his rank. He paused his strides several lengths to the right and behind the dragon, close enough to show he supported her as an ally, far enough away that it was clear they were not of the same herd. Her smooth voice caressed the wind, and he added his own to the end of her words, a deep rumbling call, a warrior's announcement of readiness to fight.
She guided him forward, a golden beacon in his life and for so many others. His golden eyes lingered on her, still quietly fascinated that his mate had been granted this form in parallel to her own, natural form. Where he straddled the line between dragon and equine, she passed over to either side with merely a thought and the workings of magic too great for him to fully comprehend. It was enough, today, to watch her regal passage as she led them to battle.
It was the Edge they approached, home of the FrostHeart and his unicorns. Patron land of the Moon Goddess. There wasn't a whisper of doubt in the hybrid's mind about the situation, and he forced himself to walk taller, with greater pride, as they drew closer. With an effort he tore his gaze from his mate and lifted his head high, well above its usual position in line with his spine. Deliberately he put a bit of arch in his neck, spring to his step, even as he somewhat unfurled his wings. Anything to make himself seem larger and more intimidating to a potential foe. A bit of exhaled smoke from his nares was just the cherry on top of his display. He was of a mind that it might lend courage to those who followed him as WingLeader and Mirage as WeyrLeader to see them both proud and confident.
At the forest's edge he halted half a stride behind the dragon-mare, standing the width of one of his wings to the side of her. Close enough to spring to her aid if necessary. Yet not so close as to seem to be hovering... or so close that she might catch an errant streamer of fire or the swing of his barbed-tipped tail should matters come to that. Which... he expected they would. Her voice rang out, putting to words the challenge they brought. In the echo of it, a call rang out from the pegasus stallion standing not too far off. The hybrid grunted softly, then included his own call. It rumbled low and throaty, reminiscent of thunder, of approaching hooves. A storm was coming.
09-15-2012, 09:23 PM (This post was last modified: 09-15-2012, 09:24 PM by Tares.)
I have dutifully followed my general to the unfamiliar and infamous Edge of the World, but now that I am here I regret coming at all. Those here claim to be fighting for peace of a sort, but can one really fight for peace? The Qian- they seek a home for themselves, why must they claim one belonging to another herd? What is it about them that they cannot blend in with another pre-established herd, even? We criticize the World's Edge for having beliefs that we disagree with, but surely the Qian must have beliefs that are exclusive only to them if they cannot simply join other herds.
I fight not for honor or a belief in the cause, but because it is my duty, and I must stay loyal to my herd. Were it not for the other members of the Tuuli there I would have left, and Arbutus would not be perched on my shoulder, he would be flying beside me. But my herdmates are here, and in turn, so am I. I stand close to Azzuen, to my uncle, fearful too of losing him. Have I not lost enough in my life?
I started with nothing. Now that I have finally gathered up love, now that I have found happiness, should I really be risking it? I cast Azzuen a sidelong glance, a wistful one. My eyes question his action. Is this worth it? My eyes ask as my heart aches and my body yearns to run from this unnecessary war.
Below they moved like ants marching side by side, unified and small.
Small to his eyes anyway as Jaydan soared above. His wings suited him far better than his legs and he would prefer to launch any attacks from the air if possible.
A certain enthusiasm could be seen in each wing beat the blue gelding took. His feathers cut through the air and his mane streamed in tangled knots as he eagerly met this day. Whatever the reasons of those below, Jaydan followed his General, and he fought for his sanity. The words of Cysaro echoed in his mind, take your sadness, make it anger, and fight.
Jaydan was ready to stop hurting. He had nothing left to lose and everything to gain. If it meant getting a little bloody, well then that was nothing new at all.
A tree bough swayed as hooves settled on it, wings steadying him as Jaydan balanced on the branch and leered down with blue eyes.
09-16-2012, 12:30 AM (This post was last modified: 09-16-2012, 12:30 AM by Paladin.)
I WANT TO FEEL THE PAIN AND THE BITTER TASTE OF THE BLOOD ON MY LIPS AGAIN</style>
Though he did not seek out war, he had to admit that a part of his soul delighted in the fact that he would be fighting in a full scale battle again. Crimson eyes scanned the horizon as he took to the Edge, Ned, Archibald and Aaron following. Paladin's scars had just begun to heal, but his main remained stunted along his neck, crimson started to sprout on the tips of the thin line of white mane. Together, they moved in a fluid trot over the terrain, muscles moving beautifully beneath skin. The stallion knew that each soldier beside him was a warrior at heart, skilled and prepared for fight for the freedom of all. His heart rejoiced in this, but the blood lust was growing strong.
How long had it been since he had fought a war? The defense of the Tides was hardly of this scale as the Sect were a small group. Paladin's memories took him back to his burning home, the harsh shouts of his father's commands ringing in his ears. The smell of blood and charred tissues. The screams of agony. The speed. The violence. The slick blood and copper taste as it coated his face. Crimson eyes snapped open, and he knew that on this day, he would finally unleash the murderous monster his father had created once more. The blackness in his soul that was normally forced beneath diplomacy and kindness clawed at his throat in eager, wicked excitement.
The stallion was used to battling against Pegasus mainly, having taken down his fair share of the feathered nomads before running from Dorngarrow, but he had trained against unicorns and his own kind. The art of taking down an equine and a dragon was still eluding his tactics, but now? He did not have to worry about anymore fucking dragons.
Boldly and proudly, the warriors of the Foothills strode to the starting line, Ned's battle songs of Echelon crying out in beautiful foreshadowing of the bloodshed to come. Paladin allowed to song to soothe his soul to a calm, cold and collected rage, and his crimson eyes stared ahead with unwavering focus. "Aaron, do not hesitate to use your fire. It is reminiscent of dragons and will strike fear into any sensible unicorn," he said, naturally assuming the role of a general. He had played this part many times before. "Archibald, you are strong, a bulwark of force. Use that to your advantage. And Ned, you are fast. Your horn will shed much blood today. Stick together! We are powerful as a unified force and do not venture too far into the trees. They know their footing much better than us."
09-16-2012, 12:40 AM (This post was last modified: 09-16-2012, 12:41 AM by Ricochet.)
Ricochet
image by Annadriel @ flickr.com</style>
They moved with a hardness in their step, this dog and horse. It was the walk of battle ready, the stride of unwavering determination.
Yet oddly enough, they held no passion for this cause.
They did not march because they hated the Edge and its king. They did not amass because they loved the Foothills and its Chief. They did not pledge themselves because they believed in the Qian and its Weyrleader. They simply loved to fight.
On a deeper purpose Ricochet was a balled up cage of energy and racism that he could not properly display in his current predicament. It was a rage that sickened his stomach with every grazing and set his tendons so taut his muscles burned and froze all at once. He rolled and stumbled when he slept knowing that the same stars he dreamed beneath so too did the horned and the winged. Life was forcing him to stay calm and bite his tongue while watchful eyes scoured him even when he lifted his tail to shit. He was forced to smile but his tongue would be a nub by the end of it if he didn't kill everyone or die trying.
He did not find any pride in his leads and would rather see them gored today - funny that one of them wears a horn. Personal outrage at the horns certainly helped enlist him, having been fucked over by them when his colthood crush preferred a stick head over his brawn and plopped out a disfigured filly. To really bring it home his dear sister let one flush her with its seed producing a muddled son. Would he himself rise tomorrow deciding to bed a horny bitch; surely that was the truth of it once all the evidence was compared? Paladin electing his mate over the capable Smoke. Evangeline turning her back on him for the spiral head. Aerwen forgetting the face of her father for that of a stick's. The horns on unicorns surely effect their libido and that of others, perhaps some innate magic to breed the rest of the species to extinction. Ricochet wanted to spit.
So in the end, Ricochet did have a lot of passion and a lot of reasoning to fight. He was pissed off, what better reason than that?
She moved along side the others of the Qian, because this was where she belonged. The young red roan had become stronger in both mind and body since her arrival in Helovia. No longer was she the scared little filly who just took a beating. No. She was a fighter, and had been born a fighter because of what she had been born into. With pride now she moved not far behind the golden dragoness, her leader. Sure Kiara was not used to seeing Mirage in such a way but then again, it was not surprising seeing as she was bonded to Akaith.
Green eyes looked to those walking around her. Many faces she knew, and many more she did not. It was surpiring to see how many allies the Qian really had. Ears flickered around as she heard the wings overhead, realizing that they not only marched forward on the ground but in the sky as well. It was among all the movement that Kiara found herself wishing she had a companion. With a sigh she steeled herself, reminding herself that the soul of the wolf mother was with her. She smiled, green eyes sparkling as she drew to a halt behind Mirage. Her body tensed as the shy fem readied herself for battle. With any hope, they would soon be living in the forest and land blessed by the Goddess of the Moon herself.
[Word Count - 234ish?]
❧
The Heart is Wiser than the Mind
❧
Please Tag Kiara in All Posts
Permission granted to use magic or physical force with Kiara at any time for any reason to any degree, with the exception of killing her.
The pale stallion marched along his new general after the call to battle had been given. Along with him there were three others. Three equines. Three brothers in arms. As they marched he sang songs of war that lifted his spirits, steeled the resolve to fight, foreshadowed the blood that would soon be spilled. He knew not what he was fighting for, only that he had answered his general's call. He would fight and he would bleed for whatever cause it was they were fighting.
Should it be asked of him he would die.
A white ear tilted in his general's direction, the war songs stopped as the black dun began to speak. The white head nodded, the only other sign besides the tilted ear that suggested he had been listening. He knew well, his capabilities. Her knew the dangers his horn would pose to those taller than him and he knew how to take advantage of it.
"O mo Dhia, tha mo dhochas unnad air son gras is gloir, a thaobh Do gheallaidhean, Do throcair, agus Do chumhachd." Dark eyes closed as the small stallion murmured to himself. It ended and the stallion opened his dark eyes to study the ones that had come to meet him in battle.
09-16-2012, 06:49 AM (This post was last modified: 09-16-2012, 06:52 AM by Torasin.)
New faces. Where had they all come from?!
It seems the Qian leader had been out recruiting again as Torasin bounded into the scene. Foothills, Throat and Qian. They had all come. Some he recognized and others not so much, Mirage and Vikram were there of course. Although when the paint looked at Mirage for the first time he saw a dragon in her place instead. Golden and mighty and for a split second the steed found himself quietly frightened of her and fervently glad she was their leader. So many questions sprang to mind and he wanted to ask them of her all at once. He held his tongue however and looked about the rest of the attendees. Paladin formally of the Tides and now of the Foothills was also in attendance which the paint found surprising but didn't comment. The rest he did not know but remembered each face in turn so he didn't get confused later on.
Torasin made his way over to Mirage and stood to the left of her, leaving a gap between them. He had been with her at the beginning of this dream so he ought to stand with her at the fruition. Kiba trilled in youthful anticipation, a dragon among dragons. The healer found himself being the odd one out with his perfectly normal equine form. His brown bonded lifted into the air and moved to join Akaith, this was his first time experiencing war after all, so he was a little nervous.
[w/c : 251]
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09-16-2012, 10:10 AM (This post was last modified: 09-16-2012, 12:27 PM by Leander.)
The war will be fought against unicorns.
The general's words repeated in Leander's mind. His muscles were wound, body ready to spring into action as he glided to the cool ground of the Edge. The Orangemoon air was heavy with the distinct scent of horned equines. The crescent scar on one gold haunch throbbed, remembering it's birth. But that was in the past and had little to do with this battle.
With a controlled step, Leander marched towards the front of the allied group. Most were strangers to him prior, but on this day they would become comrades that he would risk his life for. Nobly, the dark mistress addressed the Unicorn herd. A weak smile curled his lips, not believing that the residents would give up without a fight. The thrill of a brawl was invigorating, yet the tawny stallion was strangely uneasy. What would happen to the foals who lived here, to the innocents who wanted nothing to do with warfare? The dark matriarch who had spoken began to seem more sinister to him, and less diplomatic. Silenty, he vowed to abide by his own morals in this battle, no matter what the others did. He would fight cleanly. The palomino approached the head of the group and halted. Dark umber wings stretched to their full, imposing height. His cold bronze gaze locked, searching for the sight of enemies in the distance.
The air was filled with the heavy musk of male and female bodies, ready; thirsty. Unicorn, Pegasus, Equine. There was no difference in the heartbeats of each warrior. He found no hate for the bounds of this land, nor the creatures that ran it. Nor did he have love for the beings that he now fought for. Midas stood, as he general stood; a payment of dues to be owed. It was his job to respond when called into action. In truth, the painted stud looked up at his leader in admiration; and a willingness to do anything that would please such.
A distance rested between him and the general, Midas glanced down the ranks to catch his leader within gaze. Teeth gashed savagely between his ready jaws, wings spread impressively across his sides; stretching—readying. The past week had been spent in hard training, each member readying his or herself into a better position. Few in the ranks were recognized by his eyes, among them a warrior he had hoped would show; but had known otherwise. Mind turned from idle thinking and pushed emotions aside; this was to be his first real battle.
The golden brute was still an untested greenhorn; today he would loss his virginity. No fear drifted among the corners of his heart, he was ready. Softly, and beyond reach of earthly ears he uttered, “Great earth lord, forgive this bloodshed—give me strength to do what is juste.”
09-16-2012, 11:42 AM (This post was last modified: 09-19-2012, 11:44 AM by Faelene.)
So this place was no different than the hell she had escaped. The edge of her home was a whole army. The head of it was a golden dragon demanding they either share their home with her, this Quian or there would be blood shed. How diplomatic of you. Faelene thought, a glare to her eyes while she took them all in from her hideout among the trees. They had plenty of soldiers and dragons did the Edge even stand a chance? She had no magical talents, or companions. Simply her flesh and blood.
Who were they, why why why did they want to do it this way? There was mostly equines before her, some of her own kind too, and mixed as well with damned Pegasus who seemed to always do the equines bidding. It was too familiar, and made an ache in the pit of her stomach. She had known a land only for Unicorns had been too good to be true. As always there would be a price to pay. Body stiff, she kept her breathing collected, while her thoughts raced. What would Mauja decide? Would he handle this in a reasonable fashion or send them into battle? If not how would they share the Edge with those who had declared a war upon them? She did not see this ending well, and wondered how she would remain alive. How would any?
Then numbers grew, lots more of the soldiers marching in. Would it not end? The more she saw the more she looked on with hatred and disgust. Was this what her life had setup up for a chance at least to fight in battle unlike the last? Foul taste in her mouth, there would not be peace after this, and anger in her started to consume her heart. She would fight till her last breath. It was with a final look she saw Leander in the mix, wondering if he really would have a hard time not hurting her today. Silently she drifted backward toward Icy King, waiting to do as she was told.
It had been whispered in the wind. A threat. An impending doom. It could be smelled in the air, heard in the singing of the birds and felt in the air. Something was wrong. Something bad was about to happen.
The black, dirty stallion pointed his sleek horn skywards. His ears stood erect on top of his obsidian skull and his blood red nostrils vibrated as they sucked in the smell that was carried with the wind. He detected the scent of many horses and the sound of the world told him they were all moving towards northwest. A chill traveled though him as he stood there, frozen like an ebony statue. He’d left with Snö because he thought he would serve Mauja best by taking care of his daughter and because he was Snö’s pet also, but now he sensed that the FrostHeart needed his aid back home.
The black brute looked around. He didn’t see Snö anywhere, but she couldn’t be far away because he could still smell her. Torn between his two loyalties he stood still for a moment. Just a second. Then he ran. He had no words to tell Snö why he was leaving so he just left, hoping she would understand and that he would find her again after whatever was happening was over. His muscles ripple under his dirty hide as he leaned forwards and down in an effort to build up as much speed as he could. He would not beat the marching army to the Edge, but he hoped to reach his home before all hell broke loose.
He was young, but he was just as much of war machine as those around him. His steps seems to almost bound with his nervous energy. It was only as he fell into stride with Paladin, Ned and Archibald that the two year old seemed to relax. His mother had wrapped her neck around his, whispering to him that this was his chance to help. In his heart he was more than just a Foothills ally, he was just as much apart of the Qian as the others.
As they all came to a halt, Aaron looked to Paladin. The black dun spoke to him first speaking of the magic the young knight held within. The dual colored stallion then began to look around and see who else was around him. Ricohet had also arrived along with many others he knew as being from the Qian. There was also many winged ones that he did not know. Oh well..... It was time for the Qian to have a home, how perfect it would be to gain the land the Goddess of the Moon created herself.
Archibald trotted beside Paladin, his breath coming in short puffs as he anticipated the battle ahead. Blood already started pounding in the beast's ears, black flesh tight over trained muscles. The warrior had never been in any invasion except for the destruction after Isilme was invaded by the shades. He fought hard against the shades before finally moving out, falling here with his brother Evers. Something inside the black's stomach stirred and held his heart, excitement for the battle.
Turning his head Archibald heeded Paladin's words. He gave a short nod as he kept stride with the Valiant. He let his eyes sweep over his other fighters. A short unicorn and a whelp. Paladin commanded them to stick together and instantly Archibald's eyes narrowed in on Aaron. "Do not get far from me, young one, or else I will not be able to help you if you fall." Archibald did not know the state of the young one's abilities, but despite training and ability Aaron was young. He would be going up against warriors much stronger and farther along in life than him. Archibald snorted and turned his head forward again.
Archibald left his bonded with Casimir. He would not let her come into battle yet, she was far too young. Sparring was fine, but he did not want to risk her death for a cause that Archibald only fought for because of loyalty.
Lloyd grazed lazily, happily chewing the sweet grass he had found on his patrol (which he was admittedly slacking off from). His head shot bolt upright suddenly, as he heard a faint voice on the wind...the herd was being threatened. He stamped a hoof in annoyance and turned on the spot, setting off at a brisk trot in the direction of his herd to find out the plan.
The 'Qian' as they called themselves, would never take these lands, nor would any filthy equine or winged rat, even if it meant a war, and Lloyd was sure almost everyone else in the herd shared his view. The prospect of war became increasingly more likely as Lloyd moved through the trees. An unnatural smell hung in the air, and as he inhaled he could smell the many mingled scents of different horses. When Mauja said at the Conscripts meeting that they would need to spar and train, he was certainly right.
I'm not the only one who can't see why it crossed your mind
I see your life and death reduced into a product line
The engineer lifted an ear to the sound of strange voices and thundering hooves, and with hears pinned against his skull, the black and bronze beast strode easily, boldly before the line of warriors who now stood at their gates. As he scanned the warriors before him, the engineer knew that they were outnumbered. A large, half-dragon, a battle-hardened black and crimson stallion, another tall, draft equine and a few dragons caught his attention, and he knew that a victory on this field would only be pyrrhic in their favor. The losses would outweigh the gains.
A mechanical wolf whirred soullessly at his heels, and she flashed his bronze and ebony tail around his fetlocks in irritation, muscles rippling beneath tribal marked flesh as he stretched. Two, twisted horns erupted from his brow in a hail to darkness, and the beard on his chin labeled him as a traditional unicorn. However, he was anything but traditional. The stallion was massive and muscular, and his cloven toes held and distributed his weight well. Ulrik was a force to be concerned about, and he thirsted for blood.
Land was not the matter of pride. Ulrik was nomadic. He could live anywhere, but it was the fact that this ragtag bunch of ugly, deformed misfits would dare challenge the glory, sanctity and sovereignty of the rightful unicorns was unacceptable. This was not a battle for a strip of land. This was a battle for supremacy, and Ulrik would fight that war until there was no more blood left to fuel his system. He would wait for Mauja to arrive, but he knew that the lead was smart enough to realize that with two herds and an outcast band against them, they were outnumbered.
Ulrik had to rearrange the field. They would not have their backs pressed to the sheer cliffs of their own herdland. So, the stallion maneuvered to the edge, his body perpendicular to most of those in line. He nodded tersely to Faelene, Monster and Lloyd, recognizing that they were there, brave enough to defend their honor. "Your numbers are impressive!" he called out in a short, guttural laugh. "Like a herd of children grouping together against the silent bullies."
A scent, a voice, a nightmare; sun's rays speared the trees casting a dappled pattern of light and dark. Shadows swirled restlessly under branches which grew bare. The air itself seemed stale, despite the briny wind drifting through his home. It felt empty, vacant, a gaping void mirrored by his heart. Snö, and his pet stallion, were missing. Slowly their numbers were dwindling. The King jumped at shadows, paranoia clawing at his head at night and tormenting him with thoughts at day; he'd sent Seiren away for breeding with winged filth, and he couldn't help but feel like Lotus wanted to push Tamlin onto the throne and leave Mauja in the dust. Keahi had set his forest on fire, and everything, just pretty much everything, felt like it was going to hell. Not even the odd warmth of an egg resting against his chest could cure him of it, and when a scent that niggled at his memories swept in on the breeze, a deep restlessness took a hold of him.
He listened to her voice. The lilting shift of it, the nuances, processed the mere sound of it before allowing her words to sink in.
And once they had, they were etched in his memory forever, much akin to the mark left by a flame on wood.
For many moments, the King remained stoic and still, feeling the seas of emotion heave in his soul and threaten to sweep him aside. Months of frustration had left him ragged, raw and dispassionate, and when this foolish ultimatum came, he felt simply like groaning, calling it another nightmare - roll over, sleep again. Pretend the threat isn't on your doorstep. He wanted to sink through the earth or "stumble" off the cliff. Where was d'Artagnan when you needed him?
In the fucking Throat.
Mauja walked, a wraith among the dark trees, mind detached and disconnected from his moving body. A pale mask of cold ire sheathed the lifelessness of his face, a blue spark shielding the apathy of his eyes. The air felt dead in his lungs. Arathea swept up beside him for a moment, and the King left his precious egg in her care. She, too, became a ghost in the forest, sinking back into the vegetation.
He did not put on a show for the massed army, did not arch his neck or prance. He simply moved, passing Faelene and Lloyd. Ulrik had angled himself tactically against the army, and Mauja, finally starting to awaken, placed himself next to the bronzed beast. Irritation crept into his veins, forcing the listless darkness aside.
He ought to be angry. He longed for the dark rage, the kind of fury which numbed the mind and body and lent you strength and passion. But the King merely flicked his tail, voice clear, not even a growl. "What is even the point of me answering your ultimatum?" Wake up wake up wake up. "It seems to me you've made up my mind for me." Again, his gaze swept their line. She was a dragon. So what? He could still kill her. If it hadn't been for Akaith, mayhaps he would've doubted what he saw.
"You were there when I opened my borders to those who followed the Moon, yet you did not take me up on my offer. Unrest in my herd caused me to vow to never again issue such a decree, no matter how severe the situation." An army on my doorstep is pretty fucking severe. I wish I did not recall my words so perfectly. "You had your chance. You didn't take it. That's your burden to bear." Idiot.
Know, dickheads, what fool you follow. Either she is as incompetent as every equine mare is proving to be, or she merely thirsts for war.
He saw those from the Throat in the midst of her army.
At that moment, his only regret was that he had not had the opportunity to backstab Kri before she backstabbed him.
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