"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 dragon mare was pumped, blood ran hot in her veins, the heat of her current body radiated from her. The battlecry she had summoned drifted into a series of growls, and then seemed to vibrate through the ground beneath her -no. It was not by her own means that ground shook, she soon learned, it was him. With a gasp the dragon leapt skywards as sharp pillars erupted from the earth, a smoky snort rolling from her nostrils in surprise, wings giving her some height above the ground. It was not enough, two pillars glanced off both her sides, scraping against the thick scales that protected her organs efficiently. She would feel the bruising, the aching, once things slowed down, she was sure.
Just as swiftly as the ice rose from the ground were they reabsorbed, and the dragon snapped her head around to view what had unfolded during her distraction. A snarl curved her lips, the pointed teeth beneath them made clear to all. Akaith loosed a cry over her, and followed VIKRAM to aid the Foothills line's, just as Mirage nodded to him. Ground shifted beneath her as her wings clasped to her sides again, her bulk landed on the disturbed earth below, watching as Kri flew overhead to land her attacks, watching her kin defend themselves.
She was annoyed that none sought her out, annoyed and simultaneously amused - but mostly annoyed. How dare they think to disable her army - did they truly think she would let them get away with harming her kin? A deep bellow resounded from her barrel, and the dragon surged forth, aiming her path towards the bronzed unicorn ULRIK, who stood so perpendicularly to them. She pushed herself forward with both wingbeats and limbs, not the most graceful of motions for a creature meant for the skies but effective in gaining momentum and force behind it nonetheless. A couple of strides and then she leapt, haunches coiling and springing with the power and force of a predator.
Talons reached out to grasp his flesh, anything she could she would grab a hold of. Surely her bulk hitting his would topple him over had she managed a direct hit, but she raked her sharpened claws over his hide just to be sure. Growls and threatening displays of teeth were given, but the taste of horsemeat did not appeal to her and so she did not take the chance to bite. Glancing upwards from her target, the great dragon then leapt again - with enough force that if she had a grip upon him still he might have been pushed further down - landing several feet to his right, and without hesitating swung her massive tail about, the sharp barb on the end dangerously swiping at anything in its path. The mare LENA had been standing within its range moments before, and ULRIK would surely be swiped had he not already recovered from her previous assaults.
Stopping her spin, she was facing CINEVIAM's direction, and made to charge towards him now. Great snorts of smoke rolled form her nostrils, grumbles of growls resonated through her chest. Battlelust drove her now, initiated by the passion to fight for a home, to earn rights to called this moon-hallowed ground their own.
At the back of her mind she was aware of Akaith, who flew on a similar track to KRI, trilling her calls and generally trying to cause distraction for the less-dragon-aware unicorns below. The little gold companion focusses upon GISELLE where KRI focusses on PSYCHE, though she did not lay a direct attack, only darted in front of them, aiming to distract and lower the accuracy the attacks the mare intended to blow upon PALADIN.
Lloyd was ready to fight. He could barely contain the adrenaline already pumping through his body, stepping forwards, turning around and re positioning himself, swishing his tail madly behind him. Lucius was no different, either. The bull felt nothing but pride as he heard The Frostheart speak. Yes, this was their land, and they would fight to the death to defend it. Mauja then galloped forward, leading the charge. Finally he smiled to himself.
"Come on brother! Let us take the little buckskin prick and his mongrel!" Lloyd followed suit, giving at almighty whinny and leaping forwards after his brother. The heavy stallion lengthened his stride and dipped his head down, the two sharp horns that sprung from either side of his head pointed forwards, aimed straight at RICHOCHET. He swerved left as his brother took the other side of the doe coloured stallion. The bull to aimed crash his horns and body into RICHOCHET's right shoulder hard. He was also ready to move in case their target tried to escape.
Lloyd noticed that the buckskin bared a large scar over one side of his face, he hoped that he and his obsidian twin could create a few more to go with it.
In a flash the battle begins and I realize that I truly am not ready for this. Aure is nowhere to be seen and I am guiltily thankful that her life will be spared. Had she come to her senses and chosen not to fight?
Or could I simply not find her in the wave of blood?
I turn away from such a thought. A mare is heading towards me at breakneak speed, perhaps unaware of my own. As she heads towards me I swerve, cleanly avoiding her charge, and allow my wings to unfurl as I pass her on the right. With any luck my wing will scorch FAELENE. I am unable to avoid her entirely, however; a taste of the pain as her deadly horn nicks my left flank. But the pain is nothing. Not in comparison to the shock and the subsequent fear.
I am reminded instantly of everything that had once haunted me when I see DESCARO headed towards me. I wonder if he remembers me the way I do him. I know more about him than he would like, I am sure. Even as she beat me Iris told me her secrets. Does he see himself as a sect killer any longer, or has he put it past him? Am I the only one that truly remembers the suffering they caused? Each painful memory rushes through me, and I find myself tripping as I run, far from Faelene and skirting the mass of writhing bodies. I have veered off to the right of the field, but I can still feel his breath upon me.
When the force arrives, I shatter. DESCARO hits me squarely in the side, pushing me down from my right and still sending waves of terror through me as the base of his crystalline horn brushes against my neck. My wings are perhaps my only defense, but even as they spark and expand like a wildfire, I fear him. I find myself hitting the cold and unfamiliar earth, and his words strike me with more power than any attack.
"Let's finish her quickly, Faelene!"
I am somehow inspired to defy them. I must go on, even if it is only to live past this. When I force myself to rise, it is slowly, likely too slowly to do any damage. I buck out at DESCARO'S flank uselessly, the force behind my kick nothing compared to his, now that I have suffered such a blow. It is only when Arbutus flies down with claws aimed at DESCARO'S neck and the fire of his flames reflects in his eyes that I ever realize he was gone.
The tension of blood ran hot within pumping veins. His entire body was about to become a weapon of destruction; bobbing skull shifted a hardened gaze to slice through the ranks of their present enemy. The lines seemed nearly alike. "This battle would be close one," he thought. Midas slipped into the sky, pushing against earth with his limbs until he was forced to hold his weight in a hovering position from above. Many other Pegasus took to the heavens close by, his queen and leaders among them.
Suddenly, the snowy ice king spoke loudly enough for even the farthest to hear. Breath was held for only a moment, and then like a seam bursting free the tidal wave came rushing at them.
Instead of jerking forward, Midas shifted upward; a trumpeting cry igniting past his coal black lips, offering courage to those that stood like a solid brick wall below. It was his duty to assure that not a single unicorn broke past the line of the wingless ones. With quick beats he lunged through the air, slicing past the charging group; avoiding MAUJA and instead seeking a soldier of equal footing. The ebony stallion LLOYD and his brother LUCIUS became his first targets. A snarling rumble tore open his chest as the lad darted down until body rode close to earth with flashing golden daggers scrapping up soil. Thunderous appendages struck grass and dirt sending up a cloud of dust in its wake. Ears planted themselves firmly against his skull, neck tensed and extended with a coiling snake readying for a moment to attack. His goal was to strike and retreat to the sky.
It seemed that the pair had taken to a level of two against one. Time to even up the odds. While LLOYD attacked RICHOHET Midas took the lapse in attention to dart overhead with jaws extended to strike just behind LLOYD’s withers, while forehooves flashed powerfully with purpose of hitting the soft spot above LLOYD’s the top right hindquarter. Wings struck savagely against open air, and just as quick as he had maneuvered down the lad sought sky again. Leveled body rose quickly; his balance nearly perfectly even.
Attack: Midas attacked LLOYD whilst he was distracted with attacking RICHOHET, hoping to land an attack across the spine or back beyond where the flesh of hindquarter and spine meet.
Defense: Ears flattened against skull, wings beating constantly. Body leveled and balanced.
I WANT TO FEEL THE PAIN AND THE BITTER TASTE OF THE BLOOD ON MY LIPS AGAIN</style>
Paladin took note of the warriors of the Edge, but they were many and the stallion would have to assess them as they came. The leader, a tall, white stallion with a horn of ice spoke to Mirage in a tone that Paladin could only guess was weariness, and part of him understood the noble King. Though Paladin was against the mood of the Edge, he could not help but feel sympathetic; he knew what it was like to have a group trying to rip your land from under your hooves. Kri’s voice also rang out from the crowd, and he watched the many warriors that she had brought. What would make her loathe him so much when he was putting his life at stake for equality?
Then, crimson eyes settled on his half-sister, and the blackness in the stallion’s heart rose to his throat. He lowered his head menacingly, baring his white teeth in dark, brutal anger. “You knew that I ruled the Tides with equality, Giselle. I have repented of the sins of our father, but you revel in the madness. You are blinded with needless hatred, and I am sorry that the abuse you suffered has changed you.” Paladin’s crimson eyes filled with emotion for a brief moment, remembering them as children. She was not born like this; she was made like this. “I am sorry that I could not help you.”
A dark mare with a silver moon painted across her back took the lead and shouted orders, and the black dun was grateful for the militant logic. He listened carefully and nodded, imagining the battle field from a bird’s eye view; he envied the pegasus in this moment. A smile formed on his lips at her fire, and he nodded to his group: Ricochet, Archibald, Aaron, and Ned. “Work in tandem. If we remain a group, we cannot be picked off. Listen to the dark mare with the silver markings and remain a part of the mass. Glance frequently behind you.” The stallion watched the musculature of the Edge’s warriors, waiting to see who would run first.
Mauja. And he made a line toward Aaron when the entire field burst into glorious, total chaos. Paladin could not help but grin; this was his element, and he reveled in the thought of battle. The black dun watched with pride as Aaron maneuvered with the King, but Paladin would not allow a chance that one of his own warriors, especially one so young, would get killed. With a snort, the Valiant watched as Aaron’s magic worked itself over the king, but a darting, bay figure caught his eye. Both Lace and Vikram were going to help the young Aaron, so Paladin could focus on his sisters. He watched with an amused smirk as the gunmetal figure of GISELLE ran at him in a juvenile attempt to spear his side; they had sparred before, and she knew exactly why Paladin had been the general of their group. She was playing him a fool.
The black dun tensed his body, widened his stance and lowered his horn. Most of his weight was on his hindlegs, hocks coiling like a spring to dodge her horn, and he did so easily with a simply dance to the side. Neck arched, he laughed before a flash of black and a stab of pain in his hip distracted him from his brief victory. PSYCHE stabbed him, though shallowly. He spun around, watching a flurry of chocolate and feathers help in his defense against his jackal of a sister, and he was surprised. KRI. NED also appeared to take care of PSYCHE, leaving Paladin’s crimson eyes a brief moment to take count of those around him. Black with white stripes leapt at Ned, and Paladin eyed DELINNE with anger before jumping in front of NED’S side. The black dun stallion pushed off the ground hard, hind hooves ripping into the earth as he launched himself at DELINNE; she would not even get close. “You fight for the wrong side, DELINNE!” he barked, arching his neck and turning his head as he dipped his chin to his chest. Hopefully, his horn would scrape along her barrel as she ran, and if not, he would be ready to meet her head on.
Once he made sure that NED was safe, Paladin turned his attention once more to GISELLE. “Face me like a true warrior and not this coward you have proven yourself to be. You know better,” he said, arching his neck and lunging forward at her crimson and silver figure with his horn leveled at her side. The stab from Pysche burned. Then, his crimson eyes flashed with hatred, and he released the darkness of his soul, intent to burn her blood and hear her screams.
[OOC: (798 words)
Defense: Jumps out of the way of Giselle's attack. Gets stabbed shallowly in the hip by Psyche.
Attack: Lunges at Delinne and turns his horn to the side to scrape her body as she goes past, but if she turns to face him, he is ready.
Lunges at Giselle with his horn leveled to stab her, but uses his blood boiling magic. ]
The brothers watched, for several moments, breathing deep, controlled breaths, absorbing the fight erupt before them before deciding on their moves.
To his right, his sister RISHIMA stood, MASKAN saw the oncoming barrage of a unicorn stallion weaving his way through. Immediately the warrior danced about his sister, surging forward a step before pivoting his bulk to the right and intercepting the path RICCIARDO strode. "Not in this lifetime, asswipe," His deep voice grumbled. Ears dove beneath thick tresses of mane, teeth flashed as lips pulled back in readiness. He held his body with a bend through it, positioning his left shoulder to face RICCIARDO's left side, with the centre of his barrel to be bent away from RICCIARDO slightly, and his haunches curved back to the left. It would give him ample opportunity to dodge the inevitable horn that would be waved at him by the unicorn, but allow him to snake his teeth against the chestnut's neck and poll area, perhaps even latch onto an ear if MASKAN's aim was true enough.
Assuming RICCIARDO would continue on his path after his attempts at removing an ear, or chunk of mane, neck, anything he could grab purchase of with his teeth, MASKAN swung his bodice around to the right, keeping his forelegs planted so that his haunches moved and he was now standing parallel to the shorter steed. Leaning back, the dark steed rose into a half-rear, potentially leaving his hindlegs exposed to take on a sharp kick if the unicorn reacted swiftly enough, but aimed to barrage RICCIARDO's left foreleg with his own broad, right hoof. As he came down to land, he pushed his larger, bulky mass into the unicorn's side, reaching out with teeth once more to try and get a grip upon the unicorn's thick nape, and continue pushing with his chest and right shoulder to try and make him stumble, and ultimately, fall.
MADYRN on the other hand, saw the dunskin RICOCHET receive a lot of attention, and immediately his limbs moved to bring him into the fray. The collie dog that was with him would prove useful, he was sure, as long as it only attacked the enemy. But MADYRN smelt of the Foothills, as did RICOCHET and his pet, so MADYRN did not waste any more thought on it, besides being sure he didn't accidently trample it. It was LLOYD he aimed for, being nearer to him. He watched as the bull's LLOYD and LUCIUS attempted to pommel RICOCHET, even admired them for the brotherhood they obviously fought with. But he locked his orange sights upon LLOYD, aiming to copy the large, black unicorn's attack, only turn it against him.
Teeth flashed now from MADYRN's mouth, as his left shoulder neared LLOYD's left shoulder, his thick serpentine threw his skull out towards the stallion and aimed a bite to rip apart the skin and muscle that lay beneath it. Moving quite close and with some speed, he also aimed to ram into LLOYD's left side, before continuing on a stride away, and lining his hindquarters up to let out a large, powerful kick at LLOYD's barrel. With any luck, it would connect, sure and strong, and forcibly expel the air from LLOYD's lungs, slowing him down, perhaps making him stumble. MADYRN spun on the spot a moment after his hindlegs landed again, turning around to the right so that he could spy the damage he might have wrought, and prepare for anything coming his way.
[583 words.
Summary:
MASKAN trotted around his sister and aimed to intercept RICCIARDO with a bite to his ear/poll/neck area, then spun on his forelegs so that he was parallel to RICCIARDO and did a small half-rear to try and pound down on RICCIARDO's left foreleg, as well as latch onto the crest of his neck with his teeth, all the while pushing his weight against RICCIARDO.
MADYRN saw the strife RICOCHET was potentially in and moved to intercept LLOYD's attack. He approached him with teeth bared and aimed to bite at his left shoulder. Using his own momentum he used his own shoulder to ram against him, before continuing another stride away and aiming a large kick with his hindfeet at LLOYD's barrel. MADYRN then spun around once he landed, so that he could see what was going on. ]
The moments that defined the very beginnings of a battle were always the ones that encouraged one's heartrate to race, nerves to prick unsettlingly. Eyes whirled a dangerous, deep crimson hue, as the charred stallion listened to the words exchanged, felt his brethren come to the line up, heard Kri's calls and watched as the battle unfolded.
Time seemed to warp, sounds were muted around him, as everything happened in an instant. TARES, his beloved niece, stood to his right, and swiftly surged forward as a unicorn mare approached. Annoyance flickered upon Azzuen's face, as paternal instincts to protect his kin fired up within him. For a moment TARES could have been anyone in his family, his brother, his mate, his daughter, all the same a passion flared up within him, his muscles tightened their grip upon his skeletal frame, and Azzuen allowed his wings to unfurl halfways and used them to help him bound forward. The heat from TARES' fiery wings was felt by him, as she aimed it at FAELENE who was to Azzuen's right, but the stallion ignored it, even after the smell of singed mane tickled his nostrils. He pushed forward, hoping to use FAELENE's distraction at attempting to attack, and dodge TARES' return attack as an opportunity to lay his own attack down.
Half a stride and Azzuen had his father's spear in his mouth, the silver point aimed directly at FAELENE's fleshy shoulder. With all the strength his thick, cresty nape possessed he jousted it forth at her, first hoping to dive in deep and then sweeping it down with the ultimate aim to open a long, deep and excruciating cut. Even if it were just a little cut, Azzuen had plans for this FAELENE - but he would wait. Flinging his head skywards now, he pranced even closer, aiming his chest for FAELENE's right side, hoping to push himself against her, coiling his hindquarters and just about rearing into her. With any luck, her footing would be unsteady from the shock of the pain of TARES' attack, and then had his spear strike been true before, he might just knock her over, or at least begin to.
As he reared so near to her, his nape bent over the small of her back, and with his spear in his mouth, the tip pointed towards the back of FAELENE's head, he used his momentary gain in height to try and plunge it down on the fleshy bit of neck that existed just before FAELENE's withers, once again on her right side. It was not as strong a stab as his previous attempt, but the point was deadly sharp, if the spear did not get swept up in the dark mare's mane he might just see that crimson liquid leak from her. The stallion then grunted as he beat his wings, not aiming to do anything but cause a buffet of wind and dusty debris to course over the mare, and perhaps make her wounds sting furiously. Doing this also enabled him to be ready to leap back when the time came that he had to defend himself.
Azzuen grinned around the wooden pole that was the handle of his spear. There was something about being in the midst of battle that was simply cleansing.
[550 words
Summary:
Azzuen surges forth just as Tares unfurls her wings, hoping to spear FAELENE on her right side as she runs past him. He hopes to make a long deep cut in FAELENE's shoulder, before pushing himself into her right side in attempts to knock her over. He rears while in close proximity, and uses the height advantage to try and spear her right side again from a different angle. He then begins to beat his wings, hoping to cause dirt and wind to fly at FAELENE's wounds and cause them to hurt more - also enabling him to be a bit more agile for if/when she attacks back. ]
09-23-2012, 12:58 AM (This post was last modified: 09-23-2012, 02:24 AM by Tamme.)
Ricochet
image by Annadriel @ flickr.com</style>
Through the haze of anger swirling around the dunskin and dog, the blather of tactics from either side was faintly heard. The only one Ricochet had the sense of mind to listen to was Paladin's voice. It fed his fire, setting his tail to lash as his body coiled in anxious restraint. He wished to carelessly abandon the ideals of the Valiant, but a more intelligent part of him reigned over the arrogance and the pettiness.
It began with a cold silence so unlike him that for a moment Ricochet was dismayed and even more furious at the anticlimactic start. Ice spikes his mind seethed, hot as dragon's fire as his body crackled with the urge to ignite.
They came for him them.
The brothers of black charged like hideous bulls through the mist. At first Ricochet did not see them, but he could sense them, could feel them as their large hooves beat thunder into the sky that was the grassy terrain. His body steeled against their approach, an unlikely stance for this warrior, but he would earn no victory running through clouds when so many swords danced about. Teal eyes glanced down at the collie by his side. Guns returned the stare and quietly slunk off into the distance, swallowed up by the fog.
Ricochet grinned just as the tips of their horns shredded the veil.
They were significantly larger than he and with forward momentum driving them the force of their impact would be truly noteworthy. Yet their size did not instill fear in the young stud. They would take longer to lug those oafish bodies about while he would turn neatly beneath their noses. He noted too, nearly with an amused snort at the ridiculousness of it, that their horns were even uglier than the normal. Rather than the single spear driving up through their brains, they wore what nearly seemed a second set of deformed ears.
Just before the distance between them closed a shadow drifted over the land, small and shrinking in this afternoon sun and with the descending pegasus MIDAS. The painted steed drifted down, his hooves kicking up a curtain of dust which the black duo was running straight towards, and then the bird was off again. Normally Ricochet would not appreciate such interference, least of all from a winged monster, but his mind was churning too quickly with the need to destroy to be bothered with such nuances.
The dust shimmered to black, and then it detonated.
"I AM THE INCENDIARY, RICOHEEEEET!" he cried as he surged forward just as the last sparks of fire died out. He could not see a thing with the curtain of explosions covering them, but the anticipation could not be contained any more. With MIDAS and then MADYRN driving in so close, Ricochet couldn't be sure they'd escape the boom either, not that he much cared. Get in his way and you'd get burned, plain and simple.
A horn tore a red line along his left shoulder as LUCIOUS breezed past him. It was not deep but the blood was eager to spill over. For now though the pain did not settle in, the appearance worse than anything with the superficial scrape. It brought a snarl to Ricochet's tattered face all the same, his right hind popping up in a sideways cow-kick aimed to snap at LUCIOUS' left hind limb as they passed. It was purely from reaction so it had little aim put into it, not that he could see through the smoke anyway, but quick as as it was there was a liable chance it would land. Haunches dipped now as Ricochet leaned back onto them, just feeling the other unicorn LLOYD gallop past him not a whisker's width away. He'd been lucky but he did not consider it now as his body pivoted sharply on his hind end and whirled him around. The grass was a bit slick with the moisture of the fog, but a bit of sliding did no harm and the spongy turf helped reduce concussion from the abrupt impact on his hocks. Ricochet shot forward, tearing after the first bull LUCIOUS.
Ricochet was significantly faster, easily gaining ground and pulling along LUCIOUS' left side, mindful of his hefty haunches but more so of his head with the limp goat nubs he called horns. Angrily the Incendiary pulled back his gnarled lips to aim blunt teeth at LUCIOUS' left flank while fore-hooves simultaneously lifted up and slammed down with his stride to try and rake across the cannon bone or fetlocks of LUCIOUS' left hind limb. It would be a devastating blow if it hit and would perhaps deter bucking, though it slowed Ricochet down so he chose to veer away to the left to help avoid bucking range.
[800 words :: 1 magic use :: summary- Ricochet explodes the dust Midas kicks up around Lucious and Lloyd. He charges blindly forward and is cut by Lucious' horn on his left shoulder. Ricochet cow-kicks out at Lucious' left hind leg. Ricochet pivots and comes on Lucious' left side, biting at Lucious' left flank and trying to stomp on Lucious' left cannon/fetlock. Ricochet veers a bit to the left.]
This was just like before, like home, like Salka.
Jaydan lurched on his tree as his heart simultaneously lifted with joy and sunk with despair.
There were subtle differences of course, namely the opponents and his brethren. Rather than wings and elves surrounding him it was a myriad of colors and bodies, many of which he did not know while his previous army had been intimate. His opponents looked so similar to even some on his side - in Salka there had never been a pretty face looking back at you when you gored it or when it gnawed on your flesh. It had always been hideous and loathsome orcs, trolls, giants and goblins.
Could he fight these horned ones, standing in their rightful home, with the same hatred and battle lust he'd provided in Salka? Did he even have the capacity for anything aside from grief any more?
He glanced around him, blue eyes skimming the field of mist that veiled a good majority of the enemy line. The trees here were spindly and sparse compared to Salka. This was not home. This was not a war he burned for. But I need it his mind, small and fragile, whispered back to his flickering memories and emotions, equally wound together.
There were some similarities to behold after all, he reasoned with himself. One side against another. Wings still beating in the air around his ears. Inspiring songs sung by their military leads. Battlecries screamed with the start.
The start!
Jaydan's blue eyes snapped to clarity just as the branch beneath him cracked with a tremendous bellow of complaint and sent him plummeting down to the earth below in a tangle of wings, legs and blue. The ground rushed up quickly, but Jaydan had enough time to at least position his feet under him. He landed roughly, his legs buckling and sending him keeling over onto his right side. He breathed heavily into the ground, dust and mist alike swirling around his nose as his sides heaved with the exertion required to draw air. It was an incredibly odd sensation, as if the earth were pulling him into her, not content to have him pressed against her dirty bosoms but wanting him deeper.
And then all at once, the feeling lifted.
Jaydan gasped, his ribs stretching thankfully beneath his splayed wings. Dazed but at least aware enough that a battle surged on around him, although luckily none seemed to bother finding him as his eyes noted the small bands already in tussle, he shakily stood back to his legs. His side hurt and scratches lined regions where he'd been half clobbered by the tree branch that fell with him, giving him a great array of mild bruises as well all over. Everything was minor annoyances though, the brunt of his injury sustained by his right fore that had taken the force of his falling body. It was tender to stand on, but it would have to hold him the rest of this day. He hoped this would not wage on long, but it was likely a useless wish.
Shaking the dust from him he flexed his wings, finding with satisfaction they were in working order, then shoved off with his haunches to get airborn once more. At least in the sky his fetlock was of little consequence, but seeing as his foes were all land bound it was likely to come into play in time.
A set of circles wove the jay atop the battlefield, head dipped to watch the fray below before he finally settled on an area of focus. The great dragon MIRAGE that twirled into the air not far from him caught his attention first. For a moment fear lurched in his throat but he hastily beat it down, knowing her to be an ally. And anyway, his heart sung wickedly, what did he have left to fear?
With fresh resolve Jaydan threw himself into reckless abandon, diving at ULRIK just after the dragon's tail swept through. Mostly Jaydan hoped to scatter the dark unicorn and LENA if she remained near him, but his wings soon trapped the air and angled him back out steady, driving him up to the skyway once more with strong beats, but not before a parting buck was given towards ULRIK'S head.
Jaydan hoped to kill today. If not that, then someone better kill him.
[733 words :: summary- fell with the tree branch, landing on right fore and injuring it so it wont hold his weight well. Scratches and bruises mainly on his right side but really everywhere. Got airborn again and tried to help Mirage by diving at Ulrik and Lena, then kicking out at Ulrik's head as he started to climb back up.]
The battle began, long before Kiara realized it had. The ground shifted and sent the young roan struggling backward as huge ice pillars came up from the ground below. In her panic she barely noticed that she was not the only one who had to move fast in order to keep from being impaled by ice. Green eyes stared in shock at first. What in the hell had she gotten herself into this time?! She was no fighter! It was then her green eyes saw Mirage, well the dragon form of Mirage. It was like the moment she saw her, she knew why she fought. I just hope if Breeze finds out, he won’t hate me….. There was mixed emotions there to. Why did she care so much what her friend thought? There was time to figure that out later on. Vikram was shouting for her to move and aid Torasin.
Wordlessly the roan did as she was told. The bay unicorn ALAN that was trying to ram Torasin had seemed to fail, other than she now had the opportunity to attack any of the others from behind. Not if Kiara could help it. From her own position she charged, ready to use her own body to knock the air out of Torasin’s attacker ALAN. Torasin however was moving along side her to strike, so Kiara changed her plan. Hoping her own speed was enough she ran after the bay, trying to get along side her. Should she make it the young roan kicked up her own hind legs, her body twisting in midair to try and kick ALAN in her gut or flank. As her head went down with the buck, her teeth sought out any part of the mare she could grab. The Qian was her family, and they needed a home….. It would be for them she fought with all she had.
[Word Count - 315]
❧
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.
Chaos imbrued, embroiled, coiling, rapacious snakes in a serpentine plunge of anarchy and bedlam, where sanity faded and the throng of mania presided with a sinuous slide. She stood, in the wake of entropy, half-haunted, warm eyes slowly losing their open, compassionate candor while the fray swayed, swerved, into her midst. Bodies crashed, screams ignited, and power incensed in the glory of resolution, might, and will. Lena, the swan, the butterfly, the nymph, had seen this before, the wild, savage defending of a homeland, but had never been a contributor, too young, too scarred, too scared, too forgotten in the glade of protective boughs and eaves. But here, shattered and scattered amongst the rocky outcrop of wreckage and ruin, along the promise of violence and bloodshed, she had become a willing participant. Crawling in her veins were the sentiments of ferocity, the pieces of heritage that were drenched, soaked, in the vicious pins of villainy, and she’d never wished to command them, never longed to awaken that scathing ardor. This dangerous stage was forcing her to act a part she’d never rehearsed, never wanted.
Commands surged within the pandemonium, and her body responded in kind. Her motions brought her away from Aurelius, whose presence had been a momentary comfort in a sea adrift of threats and sieges, towards those labeled as enemies. They were creatures that sought something that was not their own, to proclaim and unleash violence upon her brethren, unchained, rampant, bellicose and trenchant. Was this what she was to do as well, become one of the tyrannical, the mob, lose the embossed veneer of the demure, the graceful, the refined? And if she did, would she lose part of herself in this militant world? Would pieces of her peaceful nature shatter, never to return? Would her gentle veil be ripped and torn to shreds, never found again? The reflection of these thoughts, made for idle, whimsical moments where fanciful diatribes could add to serenity, were haphazardly discarded as a long, draconic tail whipped near her side.
The searing pain was enough to shove her movements into a panicked semblance of limbs, scraping and clawing along the dirt for purchase, not willing to go down in the seditious drove. The slash from MIRAGE’S barb had torn against her left shoulder, made the flesh bleed in bright, crimson rivulets, and all the horror from this previous onslaught, witnessing and watching her companions dive against the swoon of torment, was forgotten. Ruthless were the chambers of her heritage, dauntless, heedless, merciless croons of cruel, audacious, ambitious people, and her slender, elegant chassis remembered what it’d been designed for. Hardened features, no longer glowing, no longer kind, no longer cherished, rendered her tenderness a foregone loss, and her legs pulsed with a beating, hardy conviction. Her left side ached but her drive was stronger, animosity quaking, boiling, and brimming beneath the former nuances of a tranquil, ethereal femme. Now, she was like them, pervading the grounds with the devilish croon of villainy and disorder.
The beat of JAYDAN’S wings and feathers hummed above her, a dark, shadow resonating with the toxic hint of another beating down upon her; she swerved out of the way, hoping to avoid the force of his bulk. His created wind tossed her striding, her lithe columns struggled once more against the surface of the Edge, stumbling but still pulling her body along, gathering courage and perseverance. She didn’t stay in that sector, away, away from these heady tombs and onto another. She spied DESCARO and FAELENE, tearing their way towards two Pegasus, and ground her teeth against her jaw, no longer fragile, no longer tolerant, but willing to help undo another being. Immersed in the harsh doldrums, she joined the overflow of thrashing bodies, adding her prowess to the mess. AZZUEN had reared, aiming his height for advantage unto FAELENE, but Lena aimed from his hind, feeling the pulse from his wings, but lunging for his rear columns. Lowering her body into a feline crouch, ignoring the scathing ache of her shoulder, she lowered her horn like a rotten, twisted scabbard, and drove it towards AZZUEN’S right haunch. With any luck, her attack would buy FAELENE time to scramble away.
[Gathering herself for the fight, Lena is struck by MIRAGE’s tail barb, scraping against her left shoulder. As she turns to aid her companions, she is blown off to the side by JAYDAN’s wings. She then goes towards the group of AZZUEN, FAELENE, TARES and DESCARO, lending her aid by trying to drive her horn into AZZUEN’s right haunch as he rears.]
This seething torment, this scathing, simpering upheaval, this violent, licentious insurrection and sedition, was what he was made for. The lust, the yearning, for indulgent, decadent savagery bled into his soul, scorching and burning against the empty vessel of his glacial heart, caressing with the vibrant, vicious croon of a deadly, nefarious possession. The plunge, the clash, the derision and scorn driven from bestial tidings hummed along his long, slender limbs, his ethereal, necromantic body, chiseling the strife into his desiring, coveting tyranny. Yet, despite this audacious plight of sinners, saints and sinners again, with bodies aching, bleeding, longing, no one came near him. Was his presence an intimidating factor, a slender, marbled countenance of vowed prowess, promised death, assured puissance in the opulent shades of undone, unholy calamity? Or was he merely paid no heed, too dimmed in the shadows of the Edge’s hollow sanction to be rendered an attack, obsolete, forlorn again? With this thought, he nearly laughed, but didn’t dare lose the tangled barb of his features, devilish and unperturbed. They wouldn’t forget him this time, not this undying, black heart.
He watched for a few moments, meticulous plotting and methodical planning boiling along his mind, bearing witness to where he would be needed most, where he could scar, where he could demolish, where he could ravage with his noxious enchantments and rogue cataclysms. If they touched him, would they fall to pieces? If they sensed his magic, would they flee? If they turned upon his flesh, could he ruin theirs? His pillars, dark and argent, churned against the hardened land and postured suitable targets, found them in the shades of the invasion where LUCIUS and LLOYD gathered amongst a hardy group of enemies, slandering and positioning themselves in a raveled cord of attacks and defenses. Toiling, dueling brothers posturing against a Pegasus and equine: Deimos chose to lend his strife, his anarchy, and his maddening, piercing blade to the fellow horned brethren’s aid. Feeding and festering on the friction, he spun his legs towards MADRYN, shifting northward as the equine swiveled around from his prior assault. Charging along his right side, Deimos aimed his long, blue sword towards MADRYN’S barrel, longing to puncture, lacerate, tear and slash against the sienna skin, before turning his hind towards the equine’s right side once more, kicking out his hind in hopes of further, ravaging affliction.
[Deimos lends his aid to the brothers LUCIUS and LLOYD, aiming his horn at the right side of MADYRN’S barrel. He then turns the front part of his body away from MADYRN and uses his hind to kick out against MADYRN’S barrel once again.]
Countless scents of countless horses invaded his nostrils. They seemed to eat his brain and chase any intelligent thought from his mind. The lap dog demeanor he’d adopted when Mauja picked up his rope washed away with the wind. His eyes were beginning to light up with the mad fire which resided within the stallion and his blood red nostrils were parted giving his face a hint of insanity. For he was truly a maddened dog without his master nearby, aggression was the product of him feeling that he had to take charge. Whereas when Mauja was with him, he felt calm and secure in the knowledge that he needed not lead, that Master would take care of that.
Sweat coated his body, making the clean parts of his black hide gleam red in the light of the dying sun. The closer he got to his homeland the hotter the fire within him grew and his eyes were soon fully ablaze. The smell of his own herd seemed to him as trapped behind a myriad of unknown scents, but he recognized one; Throat. Ever since he’d connected that smell with seeing Snö in danger he’d loathed it, despised it, and it always drove his madness to the surface. And so he pinned his ears flat, ignored the rope which was whipping his side, and leaned in - increasing his speed even further. Drip, drop! he gave himself the command, his mind already made up that these unknown scent were threats to the Edge.
When he arrived he saw the backs of many, lined up at the borders of his home and his anger reached its boiling point. The only thing he wanted was to find and aid Mauja. He was not clear, nor intelligent, enough to acknowledge what chaos he could create from behind enemy lines so he didn’t slow his neck breaking speed - just kept racing. He was blind to the strange bodies around him, ignored all other scents than that of his alabaster Master and paid no attention to the smell of blood or the roars of pain and anger. He ran through the mist - straight towards where he could see a pale figure that must be Master.
Leave it to a fool to think he can run across a battlefield and get to the other side unharmed, however this fool came quite far on the damp grass. Just as he saw the flame engulfed body of Mauja a big, black wall came in his way though and the Monster’s eyes widened in surprise. He slammed on the breaks, but the appearance of the heavy build equine had happened too suddenly and he would have no way of hindering the crash. Unless a miracle happened he would hit ARCHIBALD’s forequarters with tremendous force. If the draft kept running forwards however the Monster’s chest may get the softer impact of the equine’s abdomen, but if ARCHBALD had seen the devil eyed pet come maybe he would have the time to stop and back up. The only thing that was certain was that there was nothing the black beast could do as he sat, head thrown high in the air, gliding over the grass.
536 Words
[Archibald is appearing in the mist just in front of Monster as is running at neck-breaking speed]
The short steed stood his ground, tiny lobes pointed as Mauja spoke his final encouraging words. This was it. Aurelius stood as tall as he could next to Lena, mismatched eyes wandering over the opponents, trying to point out a target of action. He was robbed of the time when Mauja suddenly shot up his ice-spikes; from there, all was chaos. For someone such as Aurelius who had never before experienced war, it was a shocking event to witness; bodies clashing, blood spilling and cries of agony resonating through the air. He was dumbstruck for a moment, watching the chaos with worry growing in his belly. Suddenly Mauja was on fire and he was pulled out of his apathetic state, analyzing the situation as others crowded around Mauja, fighting one another wildly. Lena was gone from his side he realized, looking up to locate her near Faelene and Descaro, quickly putting together a strategy. Then he set into motion.
The dwarven steed had quite some ground to cover before the fighting was within reach. He saw the metallic stallion LACE running toward Korra and knew what he must do. Launching his small body into a vicious gallop, he came upon the fighting just as LACE reared up at Korra. Bowing his head down, he threw his entire bodyweight aiming at LACE’s leg, hoping to ram the stallions right hock with all his power. The short stag didn’t stop to assess the damage he may or may not have done; should any blows be dealt, he would not halt to return them.
Instead, he continued his neck-breaking run, heading left around the group with Torasin, Lena coming into view. A pegasus stallion was attacking Faelene, and Lena was charging from the opposite side from which Aurelius was approaching. Speeding up further, Aurelius lowered his head again, charging at AZZUEN’s left hock with the entire weight of his body. His teeth were clenched tightly; his reinforced skull took most of the blow, but ramming two opponents in a row made for a neat headache. The dwarven steed retreated slightly, out of the reach of kicking hooves, checking to see if Lena was alright.
[371 words]
[Summary;; Rams at LACE’s right hock + AZZUEN’s left hock + backed away slightly]
Theatricality and deception are powerful agents.
You must become more than just a man
in the mind of your opponent
As the battle began to unfold, Cineviam found himself in a strange and unnerving position. He had arrived fashionably late – missing the terms of the challenge, the prayers, and the catcalls – so everything seemed to be moving in fast forward. He had never been a part of such a disorganized army; his father’s had been a well-oiled machine, right up until the end.
Usually the soot-stained stallion would be found leading one of the wings or working for glory in the vanguard but today he was in the rear, a place reserved for his conquering father. Except Yaseth would command on a hill, surrounded by his reserve as he watched the battle rage on below him, committing his spare forces where they were needed most. He certainly would not be alone, trying to glimpse the size of the enemy through the bodies in front of him. Bodies that he doubted would respond to his orders should he chose to spout any.
Cineviam wasn’t the experienced general, he was more like the vagabond man in the park (poker face donned), with a flutter of fingers as he took a Rook—ready to put you in checkmate. In this chessboard of mortal flesh and bone there was no distinction from King to Pawn or Rook to Bishop—there was only a wash of colours—the sides unclear once they’ve clashed upon the foggy checkerboard. Doesn’t mean that he can’t pretend, sit back here on his make-believe throne and bring reinforcement (himself) to a herd member in need while the true king led the troops into battle.
There was a battle cry but the real flurry of activity happened when Mauja summoned his ice spikes, right smack dab in the middle of the group surrounding the golden dragon. A wicked little grin blossomed over his features and after his ruby red eyes were drawn in a dozen different directions as chaos ensued. Many of his herdmates followed orders and attacked those listed by Mauja. Whether from lack of discipline, or they had their own personal vendetta’s to settle or they simply had their own plan like the cinder beast, the others chose different targets.
At the moment it looked like Korra needed his help the most. Both Vikram and Lace had decided to interfere between her and Aaron and Cineviam wasn’t about to watch with his leg cocked this time. He had taken no more than a couple steps in her direction when a great bellow signaled that MIRAGE was on the move. The scintillating scales and flurry of wings at the edge of his vision was enough to alert him that the golden dragon was headed in his direction. Ulrik and Lena were between them and they gave her brief pause but after MIRAGE swung her mace-like tail around, they were standing face-to-face approximately 50 feet away.
In the practiced eyes of the patchwork stallion, fifty feet is an eternity upon the measures of the melee. It would have been a fool’s errand to believe Cineviam would have remained immobile for her battering ram attack. He had learned from his spar with Faelene. Cineviam is in motion; swivaling on his hind, making half-moon paths in the dirt as he dodged left and right – again and again – seeking to confuse MIRAGE as she approached. When she was about a half a horse length away from him he finally committed to dodge to his left. His front end and barrel sprung clear but MIRAGE’s right shoulder connected with his right hip, forcing it skittering far to the left out of line with his body. It took him a couple seconds to recover, to swallow the pain, for his leg to take a full stride instead of a baby step.
Then he took a couple bounding strides and he is alongside MIRAGE. The golden scales looked as tough as armor; he doubted his horn would pierce her flesh. Facing away, he brought his backside closer to her right hind leg and kicked out both hind hooves with all the strength he could muster. His injured right trailed the left by a couple inches and lacked some of the sheer power. He hoped that despite MIRAGE’s dragon form, he could still jolt and potentially injure her joints.
The saying: an eye for an eye… well her hip for his hip.
Keeping dragonfire and the barb at the end of her tail in mind, he quickly twisted back around so he faced MIRAGE's ribs.
i.Dodges to the left of Mirage's charge
her right shoulder connects with his right hip
ii.He moves further down her right side
and turns and kicks at her right hind leg
and then turns to keep an eye on her
The fighting erupts like gunfire, a sudden explosion of pent up tensions and orderly chaos. The earth trembles beneath frantic hooves, almost of its own accord, as if it fears the mounting equine battle as a storm against its existence, its vacant and placid position in this world. Kali screams a response, still circling above the budding conflict; and behind it I watch, Maskan by my side, dark eyes scanning the breaking storm and heart thundering in my ears.
It came to us before we could spring, a bright flame weaving through the battlefield that made my breath catch. Asur...? but no, of course not. The unicorn looks nothing like my friend, except in color; he is slighter, he lacks the distinctive soldier's white, his mane hangs free and his eyes glow like sand. Swallowing my shock, I tense and spring into motion, but not before Maskan. With a glance at my brother I break from his side, I arch around the impending unicorn, nimbly avoiding his horn while Maskan's bulk slammed towards the approaching stallion. RICCIARDO'S attack was not without some odd degree of anger; what personal vendetta might the stallion have with me? Dark form swivels as I pass his left side, hoping that Maskan has him distracted enough that I might avoid flailing hooves; at the last moment I lash out, aiming a half buck at the flaming unicorn's hocks. For an instant I consider looping back, using my gift on this brute; but I know full well how capable my brother is of holding his own. I am not needed here.
Dainty hooves shove into soft ground as I stretch my body out, heading for the nearest clump of fighters. To our left, a clump of fighters surges. I can barely make out wings surrounded by piercing horns; Kali flashes an image of the pegasus general surrounded by two unicorns and what appears to be a goat. Kali seems to think that the goat will make a tasty treat; I wish she would be more cautious, but there is no time for me to dwell on that. No time for anything, really, except to grab sight of the nearest unicorn and focus.
Long limbs tense and release as I dart at LENA, coming around her left. I aim my right shoulder at her haunch, hoping that the force of my greater weight will throw her off balance and buy Azzuen some time. Teeth snap in tandem, bites aimed for her fleshy right elbow, her long mane, anything I can grab hold of. I shove away from her abruptly, body poised to use her own mass as a springboard for my retreat, ears laid back and nostrils flared. The thrill of fighting is foreign and terrifying, sudden excitement at the idea of hurting too strong to be comfortable with. With a snort I leap back towards the maiden, rearing now onto slender hind legs; I am formidable in my height, and I hope she fears me, fears it as I lash at her barrel with gold-flecked hooves, aiming for ribs and entrails, so much destruction.
Kali, meanwhile, has fixated her attention on AURELIUS; with a deafening screech she dives at him, long talons outstretched as the pony retreated from Azzuen's side. She aims for his neck, careful to avoid bony horns, aiming to puncture artery and suffocate the creature. Still smaller than the one she thinks to be a goat, the gryphon does not dare try to lift him; her first assault done, she rises into the air once more, a swift retreat before diving back down to where the pony stood, intent on harrying the poor creature until he became her dinner.
[ 616 words
Rishima dodges Ricciardo, tries to kick his haunches, and runs around Lena, ramming her right shoulder against Lena's left side while biting at the mare. She then rears and kicks at Lena's barrel, more to intimidate than anything else.
Kali dives at Aurelius, trying to grab his neck with her talons. She lets go and flies up again, before diving back down to harry him. ]
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