the Rift


[OPEN] Black Temple [Welcoming, Leads]

Arah Posts: 343
Outcast atk: 7 | def: 10.5 | dam: 3
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15hh :: 5 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Wynter :: Royal Griffin :: Draining Clutch Frostie
#1

Arah

At the northern reach, before the mountains heave towards the sky, a patchwork of snow and stiff dirt dots the land. Here the fae princess and the griffin passed over the land, their footsteps not hurried but filled with purpose. Beside the land the sun was begging to set, casting an orange glow on the land, the colours of pink, orange and blue reflected off of the doe's irvoy coat and the bleached feathers of her bonded. Golden orbs roam over the tundra's sparse, bitter grasses and shrubs as she carefully navigated the many loose rocks that sought to trip up the inexperienced. She had traveled along this path so many times that the doe knew every dip and rise by heart. Previous experience also reminded her about the dangers the land alone presented; "watch for any crumbling boulders. It can be dangerous around here." Looking over her shoulder the doe peers at the beautiful network of caves, they lay closer to the ocean’s edge before the tundra gave way to a network of glaciers and their frosty archways. One series of these frozen caves is dimpled inside and takes a bluish tint and with the sun setting behind, they are shining, sending beads of sapphire light dazzling all the surrounding area.

Finally they come upon the path to her home, she pauses at the top. It is a narrow entrance from the Frostbreath Steppe, it descends between a range of mountains which are preserved with white snow. Smiling as Wynter takes off, soaring out into the great expanse, the doe finally begins to lead the way into a small. The path is almost impossible to be found, only those who had been shown the way stand a chance of visiting The Basin. The doe is slow, showing the other mare where to place her feet, which parts of the path she should avoid. Arriving into the hidden valley Arah looks upon the two massive, horse-like machines rather fondly. "Don't be afraid of these, they are the sentinels- made by Ulrik." Looking upon the massive metal beasts, Arah guides her companion through them. "They keep out imposters and help in defending our home." As they continue forward the doe begins to describe the wonders of her home, they features that often washed out the bad. "There is a lake that never freezes, which at night is absolutely beautiful. It reflects the sky, which at night is often filled with colorful aurora borealis." The doe smiled as she observed her home, "here the tundra grasses grow thick and lush and the snow melts to reveal the warm earth beneath." Arah had paused, she would not take Elowyn any further until granted permission. A wind blowed around the all mountains that surrounded their home offering protection from the harsh, winter winds, and also provided them with shallow caves to make cozy homes out of. "We have a large, natural hot spring steams from under a rocky shelf, I myself will be paying them a visit." Laughing her eyes looked upon her homeland with pride, hopefully Wynter would find a leader to greet them soon. "Though perhaps the most interesting feature is a strange, glass mirror it offers no reflection when gazed upon." Remembering the meeting she once had around the mirror, Arah shook her head at the oddity. Never mind, it would surely all make sense on good time.
"Welcome to Aurora Basin."


@[Elowyn]
- Permission given for Heather & Tamme to power play Wynter if you like.
And I ain't afraid to die, I’m afraid of going to hell.

✽ Force and magic permitted. ✽
✽ No fatal or permanent damage. ✽
✽ Please only tag in opening posts. ✽

Elowyn Posts: N/A
Unregistered
:: :: ::
#2








Excitement seems to blossom into nervousness. The girl that was so adamantly confident was now terrified at the prospect of meeting even more of her kind. Was she a normal socialite? Or was she bound to be outcasted for her pure ignorance. So many years had been wasted away in solitude, but did the negative effects finally start to outweigh the positive one? Living alone had taught her to be grateful, and kind in her mother's company. Likewise, she fell in sync the same way. Both were codependent both physically and mentally. Hardships were shared, joys and little delights greedily accepted, so was society the same? Somehow in her mind, that whole equation didn't quite work. Although with a little tweaking here and there- like always- she made it work. Those growing together could not be apart, right? So that must mean everyone looks out for each other. She nodded her head silently in agreement with herself, continuing to follow faithfully behind her new friend, if you could call her that.

The scenery had changed from lush forest to a more barren land. Sparse grasses seem to be fighting for breath, while others are completely incased in patches of snow. Not more than a few hours ago, had the heat been sticking her her like glue. A distinct chill was in the air, contrasting against the sheen of sweat that had formed. If it wasn't for the suns rays continuously beating upon her hide, she most certainly would have been cold. Her friend then suddenly gives a warning, and Ellie glances underfoot. She hadn't even noticed the rocks that were sprawled about, threatening to try and eat her hoof. The girl murmurs a quiet thanks, as the sighs of the wintry land encase her attention.

The icy arches and patchy landscape seems to expand out into the abyss. Arah did say others were here, right? Again the nerves creep up into the back of her throat. It was a feeling of terror she rarely had gotten. Just as she was thinking of an escape plan, Arah had led her to a trodden path. From afar, it had looked like nothing, just a barren landscape looking pathetically desolate. Yet now, as each foot tentatively followed Arah's with awkward grace, something more seemed to be coming into fruition.

Before them stands two, large beings. They look metallic, almost like her mothers little trinkets from home. They glittered in the light a little, but not much. The sheer size of them is enough to make her cower. Why did such a place ned this much protection? Scared golden eyes dart to her in silent question, but she trusts Arah. So far, she had not led Elowyn astray. That was a promising start.

So many questions plague the child's head. Yet, she stays silent behind her guide. Arah knows what she is doing, and so Elowyn patiently awaits until her tour is done. Everything is so overwhelming to take in, lakes that never melt, grasses that seem to defy logic, mirrors that don't reflect, hot springs. When the deer-horned woman stops speaking, Elowyn sighs aloud, sheepishly smiling. "It's all so... beautiful. Thank you for offering me the chance to come here." Star-struck eyes can't help but linger around the frozen home. Would this be where she sticks for good? It was very likely at this point. However, was there anything she need worry about? "Are there any specific tasks or rules I must follow?" It's an innocent question, but one Ellie took seriously. The last thing she needed was enemies among her new found friends.


talk talk talk


Elowyn
far away, long ago, glowing dim as an ember
image credits

Deimos the Reaper Posts: 527
Deceased atk: 7.0 | def: 12 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1 :: 7 HP: 72.5 | Buff: NUMB
Heather
#3
The summer’s vigilance held the Reaper at bay for a few moments, pausing indignantly through the tundra’s fleeting copses, indulging in the briefest of refuges beneath their wide boughs and shadowy fixtures; a sinister wake in the crawling forest. He stared through the columns of earth and undergrowth, maneuvering over the plaited network of stumps, moss, sticks and twigs, maintaining a deadly, derisive elegance in seditious decadence, a steady, belligerent march across outcrops and borders. The monster may have continued on his wayward path, perhaps twisting towards the unfreezing lake for a moment or two of the chilling, frigid touch of its depths, were it not for a screech above him: a griffin landing amongst one of the fir eaves. The cretin’s skull rose swiftly, narrowing his gaze at the companion, curiosity running a rampant chase as recognition sparked and kindled through his Machiavellian ministrations; the ivory bonded belonged to Arah, he’d seen it enough at her side, floating along the air, twisting, diving, and spying, to recall the beast as brethren and ally. However, the avaricious incitement of his intrigue dragged a variety of nuances, unfurled and uncoiled, through his malicious speculation: why was the creature here, searching for him, and not with Arah? Was she hurt, endangered, and suffering along the outskirts of their home, begging for a form of absolution (and he remembered the state of her frame, of her daughters, crawling away from the Regime and the torturous sway of the crooked, disgusting Confutatis)? The little beast stretched out its wings, beckoning, summoning, and the formidable predator followed in Wynter’s wake, a mighty, dominating force of treachery and danger, thinking the worst and invoking the clarity of his devilish upheavals (the indulgent whispers of death, of demise, of quietus, flickered along his veins, his muscles, emboldened and finessed, the grace of a practiced Mephistophelean). Eager and fervent, ready for the fray, swift and rapid along the display of horrific, terrorizing displays, because if any of his own were threatened he’d respond with the most horrid, the most vile, the most deplorable of vengeance, snatch away life, claw at throats, stab and lacerate until their world dissolved in a haze of violence and villainy, he embarked and crashed amongst the Tallsun iniquities.

However, when he arrived at the borders, at the shackle and shell of the sentinels, he found all was well: the pale doe resting and conversing with a stranger, nestled and content. If the griffin laughed at him, the Reaper paid no mind, dissolving his taste and penchant for bloodshed into a stoic, recherché container, stifling the savage invocations yearning to destroy. While this made him no less intimidating, for the foils of his presence would always carry the disastrous, rasping, Lucifer sculpting, he could at least appease the Impersonator and not scare away her newest recruit. Feigning indifference, the beast offered a deep nod towards Arah, the faintest twitch of a smirk at his own foolishness, and then endeavored his lacerating stare towards the stranger, a painted mare, endowed with one of the few things she needed in order to make their threshold a home: a blade. She was taller than himself, but despite the imposing stature, seemed gentle, content, quiet; reminding him of their Time Mender floating amongst heathens and cretins, a belle in the rush of thorns. Perhaps she too had hidden depths and talents, rising beneath and below the surface of innocence and demure qualities, his brow quirked in a slight arch, bestowing her a curt nod as well. “Welcome. I am Deimos, the Lord.” For one of such a seemingly gentle nature, he pondered over how Arah had convinced her to reign amongst thieves, behemoths, and demons, or whether she had glossed over it entirely (revealing Arah also had the art of wiles and avaricious escapades, how she’d acquired her rank), so his blunt tones continued, framing aspirations and ambitions held in the sable and ivory figure. “What do you hope to achieve in the Basin?” Do you grasp for power? Do you channel rage, vigilance, anger? Or do you just conspire, waiting, a masquerading sheep amongst the wolves?


[My apologies for the wait! .__.]
DEIMOS
delivered from the blast
last from a line of lasts
and now the kingdom comes crashing down undone
background pattern by webtreatsetc.deviantart.com
image credits

Arah Posts: 343
Outcast atk: 7 | def: 10.5 | dam: 3
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15hh :: 5 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Wynter :: Royal Griffin :: Draining Clutch Frostie
#4

Arah

At Elowyn's sigh Arah turns her head and glances over her shoulder; studying the rather sheepish smile decorating the painted mare's face, the doe wondered if The Basin was quickly growing on the new mare. What kind of home would she make of Aurora Basin? So many other herds might be better suited to her gentle nature, in fact Arah saw much of herself in the young mare. The naive nature and general kindness that seemed to cling to the mare's coat used to be what made Arah who she was. But now? So much had changed...perhaps her life would have worked out extremely differently if she hadn't decided to follow d'Artagnan and Frost Fyre and instead trailed behind Argetlam. Chuckling at the star-struck expression on the painted beauty's face, Arah turns back to once again survey The Basin. "My pleasure." Shuffling a few steps further into The Basin, Arah tilts her head back as she watches the sky for Wynter's return. "Rules?" It would make sense that there where some but honestly Arah didn't have the faintest clue as to what they where. "We're currently allied with The Throat and The Edge." So what did that mean? Looking back over to the mare, Arah ponded some more on her response. Smoothly, the doe kept a passive mask upon her face, keeping control of the situation. "So don't steal or attack them." The fae princess shook her head, and laughed. It seemed terribly unlikely that this mare could steal or attack anyone, then again, hadn't Arah learnt enough to never judge a book by it's cover? "Our Lord or Lady will explain anything else they feel you should know."

A scream called her attention back to Wynter and her eyes then focused upon the figure who was fast approaching them. Strange, some may find it, that the feeling of safety filled her at the sight of Deimos but what they didn't understand was he was apart of her home. A seemingly permeant fixture that had protected her family better than she had. Although slight worry stirred inside the doe; she hadn't mentioned the harsher side of The Basin to Elowyn. Stepping closer the Arah firstly nods in her Lord's direction then looks over the painted mare as if sizing her up for the coming interaction. "The Lord of Aurora Basin." Her hymn is spoken loudly enough that even Deimos would have been able to hear her words as he approached. Then the doe fell silent and waited, watching Deimos move closer to him. The presence of death, chaos and unchallengeable power clung to his dark soul, brutal strength carried the stag to them. When the lord of death bowed to her, Arah sunk into her own bow. Elegantly dipping her great crowned head and neck, making sure to sink lower than her Lord had as a sign of absolute respect. "My Lord." Taking a few steps back she allowed her King to begin his questioning of the new mare, the doe remained silent for the time being. Her attention switching from her King to Elowyn and back again. Perhaps the new mare would surprise her and not crumble underneath the gaze of The Reaper, although it took a great amount of courage to do just that. Few decided to size up against this Lord and ever fewer lived to tell the tale.


@[Elowyn]

Elowyn Posts: N/A
Unregistered
:: :: ::
#5








The sheer lack of rules made Elowyn raise a brow. Her mother had been full of rules to follow. Do not follow her home, being the last one she bestowed upon Elowyn. That was the worst rule of them all. Her mother had taken a piece of Elowyn with her, and even though the daughter remained calm on the outside, a large piece of her happiness had been invested in her mother. It hurt, but the wound was easily covered by this new, enchanting world. That smile that never left Elowyn's face lost a little of its luster as she fell into her thoughts, but a screaming bird suddenly ensnared her attention. The creature that had traveled with Arah when they had met returned. What followed it, was one she did not recognize.

The way he carried himself seemed to indicate something, as well as the way her "friend" had welcomed him. Lord... did that make him the leader? Shock suddenly colors her vision as she flusters to find words to speak. Elowyn had never been presented to royalty before. How was she supposed to talk? Formally? Thankfully, this Deimos introduced himself, as well as presenting a question. It was much easier to answer than to think up a conversation. Elowyn began with a nod, her permanent bright smile returning. One needs to look their best for the leaders, because Ellie suspected that he could just as quickly make her leave as Arah had invited her. "Nice to meet you Lord Deimos," Her fluttery, innocent voice responded, while trying to contain her nerves. A few moments passed, as she pondered if she should introduce herself. Probably, considering if she wanted to be helpful, they would need to be able to contact her. Oh! And my name is Elowyn. She glances towards Arah, as if begging for confirmation that she was doing this whole thing right. Manners were not Ellie's strong suit. "I have basic knowledge of herbs and such, if that has a use here?" Her voice pitches at the end a little bit. She knows that dealing with herbs is not exactly a profession that anyone would willingly want. It was just a little job of hers that turned into a hobby when she was young. It was unimpressive, but sometimes helpful to have this knowledge. "Of course, if you find that insufficient I would be more than willing to learn another job. I'm pretty smart, well, for me." Her manners had completely fallen to the wayside now, and she knew it. She took a sheepish step backwards, glancing from Deimos to Arah as if waiting to be sent away. She would not fight to stay, most of all because she didn't know her right hoof from her left one. That would make her look more stupid than she already seemed.


talk talk talk


Elowyn
far away, long ago, glowing dim as an ember
image credits

Deimos the Reaper Posts: 527
Deceased atk: 7.0 | def: 12 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1 :: 7 HP: 72.5 | Buff: NUMB
Heather
#6
For a beast constantly attempting to destroy, to ravage, to ruin, summoning and discarding the remnants of his wickedness, of his immorality, was improbable and nearly impossible – instead, he was merely confused by the sheer amount of innocence pervading the atmosphere. The Lord glanced briefly at Arah, because for several moments he was almost lost, forsaken ages ago to bleak, forlorn pits of desolation and heresy, lacquered and layered in wicked, perilous crimes, a monster aligned with other behemoths and barbarians. The Reaper was reminded of Huyana, of rain, of peace, of repose, but even her innocence had been fortified, had been galvanized, and this femme, draped in lamb garb and chaste, puerile form, seemed ignorant of the wolves gathered around her. Ordinarily, Deimos wouldn’t have bothered to frame a single whim of care towards the realm of irreproachability, those incapable of being tainted, compose his normal venues of nonchalance and indifference, compress recherché back into the folds of his imperial dominance, for they were what they were, discarded demons finding shelter with their own barbaric kind. But she’d been brought into his world, his den, his throne, his empire, and all the protective, overbearing, overwhelming nuances of his beatific, ferocious onslaughts clawed and rasped, grated against his senses. How many times had he blocked thieves from poaching upon his brethren? How many hours had he spent guarding borders? How many seasons had he rumbled and grumbled and annihilated, watching as they fell or conquered. Known sentiments won over his Machiavellian considerations, the imbalanced cataclysm of unholy ramparts and soulless sieges, for the Impersonator wouldn’t have been foolish enough to bring someone into their threshold without ensuring some strength, some vigilance, in the stranger – and perhaps, in the deepest denizens, they could use her virtue, her righteousness, her ignorance of the darker edges of the world, to an advantage. Whether or not she’d be altered, destroyed, morphed, and altered along the way was an unsettling predicament (because they’d all been trapped and snared in some beguiling, choking, strangling sculpting; he hadn’t always been an emotionless, hollowed soul, Arah hadn’t always been slightly haunted, once snagged and tortured). His stare fixated across her frame, along the painted sanctions, upon the flutters of her voice and all the whims contained within, uncertain if he was securing her lifeline or path to ruination. He didn’t respond wholeheartedly to her smile, managing to restrain a slight fold to his lips other than a grim line, chiseling his voice into the void. “We have a use for herbs.” She could go within the medic field, much like their Time Mender, chase away agonies and miseries, forget the tribulations behind them. The notion set him a bit at ease, only furrowing his brows for a short consternation, clipping his speech with their blunt adherence. “Perhaps you would find solace within the healing rank. You should consult our Time Mender, Lena.” Her acceptance, manifested and folded and tucked away, gave over into chilling, frigid, mercurial pursuits – she’d belong to the mountains, to the summits, to the peaks, for as long as she could stand it (or bellow into its antics, assimilate into the warrior paint and vestiges, the rancorous persistence).



DEIMOS
delivered from the blast
last from a line of lasts
and now the kingdom comes crashing down undone
background pattern by webtreatsetc.deviantart.com
image credits


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