"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.
[ ANYONE IS WELCOME TO USE SPARK MAGIC ON MAUJA, WHETHER IT IS UNCOMFORTABLE OR NOT. :D ]
It felt like he was falling—
Fire streaked out like breaths from heaving lungs through a sea of blackness.
(—falling into the night itself.)
One twisted, black creature fell, destroyed by the embodiment of Mauja's passions and anger, and still it felt like an eternity between him and the one he sought to protect. The wolves were a menacing blur, their shapes shifting, distorted, forming a single uniform and ever-moving horizon, heads and backs like the rolling waves on a sea.
Mauja's face was a mask of rage and pain; the boils around his joints stretched and cracked and bled, the raw and chapped skin of his shoulder still weeping and hammering at his nerves, at his attention, as he wielded the blade that had bit him so often—
Another wolf fell to the birds of flame. The satisfaction was drowned in the tide of desperation.
But then—they cleared; they fell, to someone's magic, or to Tembovu's reach, or simply dispersed. Mauja didn't know which, just saw the bulk of his (friend) suddenly revealed again.
The chaos had ceased. The mayhem had been stopped. There were only the Rifters and the Helovians and the Goddess doling out macabre gifts and—once again, Mauja fought to keep his bitterness down.
Overlooked yet again. He had been burnt in the last battle—here, he had been burnt again. Then, he had pierced a fucking God with his spires of ice, and here, he had shielded their own Lady Moon.
And what did he get for it? Nothing—
Pain caught up, and the icy stallion crashed onto his knees by the bitten, torn form of Tembovu.
"Temb—" he managed to get out; he wanted to ask, why do all my friends end up falling? but he knew—this was the nature of war.
War didn't care for causes.
Everybody bled and died all the same.
In the back of his mind he heard the Goddess, but he paid little heed to it. His shoulder was throbbing, the agony rising up chilled nerves to a head that didn't want to cope with it; silent tears pooled in the corners of his eyes as he knelt there, but then—it eased, slowly replaced by the itch of healing. Blinking his blurry eyes Mauja peered around, but there was no one who seemed focused on him. He craned his neck, bracing for a flare of pain that never came.
Had he been dreaming fire again?
"SOMEONE, GODS, HELP!"
The plea for help startled him, propelling him up again—he cast a glance at his friend, knowing—shit, knowing in his bones—how much help could mean.
It had been his owl dying, then.
This time, it was his best friend's daughter.
"Aviya," he breathed, suddenly there, fresh trickles of blood from the broken boils by his flank; he had grown used to that pain. But this—no. No. No.
He'd never get used to watching family die.
"Aviya, no—" d'Artagnan had already lost Kou—did he need to lose his daughter as well?
Fuck. Did he know anyone who could heal? Hadn't d'Artagnan been there?
"d'ART!" he finally yelled, hoping to see the blood bay's head swim out of the press of bodies.
09-14-2015, 10:41 AM (This post was last modified: 09-14-2015, 10:43 AM by Maren.)
Ashamin… she thought, lightly confused because of his absence towards her. A frown stumbled around her hazy eyes, unsure what was going on. And yet, something within her there was something. Did he do something? A short moment of relief. Still, she did not manage to become aware of what it was.
There was something happening, something she did not quite understand, but nevertheless she did not ask; only nodded to him, before walking past him to leave him be. It was too cramped here for her and her blistered soul. But just at that moment, she saw the stallion moving from the corner of her eye, too. She halted her pace again and turned her neck. Guided by his Cerndyr, he was stumbling towards a heavily wounded mare. Through the vegetation she could see the red of her coat from this distance.
She heard his voice call out, felt the terror in his scream echo in her ears. Everything felt so silence all of a sudden now that he was so emotionally prominent and apparent before her eyes.
Yet, her mind had grown dark and she had finally discovered where the Diviner differed from the Haruspex. As desperation shimmered in his eyes, hers were still draped in a cloudy silence. Life would not be life if it is not clothed in the leather and silk of imperfection and tragedy. Finally, Maren turned her tiger striped body around and walked away, trailed by a veil of fog. Her eyes were absent as she wandered away into the shadows of the jungle to seek out someplace more quiet.
Notes: Ashamin mentioned and RE will be pm'ed for the boils! Also I am not sure if she should be able to feel the connection of hearts beating? Anyway, free to interpret it the way it should be. xD
Ranjiri</style> in this world full of people there's one killing me and if we only die once i wanna die with you</style>
Try as I might I couldn't get the child to move. She would try to rise only for her legs to collapse under her and send her back down to the bloodstained ground. So I stood over her, determined to protect her and damn near daring anyone to try to come after her. No, she wasn't my child, I didn't know whose she was or what she was doing on the battlefield, but I wouldn't allow her to get hurt. I didn't move until the child's mother arrived, a stout dark mare that looked as battle worn as everyone else. I simply nodded my head to her and stepped away from her child and stood watching as everything finally came to an end. The wolf was dead and the Moon Goddess was handing out little trinkets like the Time God had once the bear god died.
It was sick.
I heard Megaera's voice ring out, calling for a meeting and at the same time I felt this zap of electricity in my veins that was gone as soon as I felt it. It made me look around, confused, but that confusion turned to concern when I heard someone screaming for help. Was it not really over? I found myself moving toward the voice and when I saw her laying there bleeding I felt a heavy sadness settle itself over me. There was nothing that I could do for her, I wasn't a healer so I stepped back to allow room for someone that could help.
And I hoped someone could. There had already been too much death.
Chaos reigned like always. Somewhere in the fray he'd managed to smash into a wolf despite the pain that half-blinded his vision. After that he'd just kept going. After all, why should he stop? What the hell was keeping him here, right at this moment? He'd hoped to crush a few more bastards beneath his hooves but Torleik wasn't even sure if he'd been successful in crushing the one - and suddenly it seemed the battle was over. Everything ground to a halt. Fighting stopped. Pain remained.
The king cast a gaze around but did not recognize where he was on the battlefield, nor see Ophelia or Ulrik. In his haze of anger and discomfort, he assumed they'd both probably selfishly already wandered off and he hadn't the internal fortitude to go searching after either one of them. A vial of some sort suddenly rolled to his feet, tingling with the magic of the Moon Goddess and he stared at it for a long while. The fuck did he do with this? Burn someone? Irelyn scooped it up for him and slipped it around his neck, gently headbutting him affectionately in the hopes it would make the storm that grumbled threateningly in their bond still somewhat.
Annoyed and stretched beyond his means, the Bloodskald simply turned and made for home. He had nothing else to give this day. His early departure meant he missed more drama transpiring but he probably wouldn't have given a shit anyhow. None of these people meant anything to him. Why should he care? They wouldn't. A fallacy to make this assumption based on only those he'd witnessed with his eyes, but it really was of no consequence. Torleik had left, and all he wanted to do was go home and rest.
My scream, my pained yell at the young mender, was lost in the fray at first. I shoved a wolf aside, putting myself before Enna and letting my cold blue eyes strike with hers like flint. I felt Rohan's bulk at my back, his body turned towards whatever else he was intending to attack.
"Damnit all, Mender, are you TRYING TO DIE?" I screamed, unable to control the heat and painful fire that contorted in my coal of a breast.
Why was she being so reckless? Even now, looking back, I can't figure it out. It was as if she thought she had the strength to survive in a world like this, when I could just tell,just by looking at her, how weak she was.
When was she going to learn that? Didn't she know it was hopeless, and that she'd never be in control? I hope she figured it out. Child, you, my...
I just hope she figured that out.
The last note of my reprimand was still buzzing in the air when the fight ended and the world went silent, becoming nothing but a rush of black wind. I stood, panting, only just beginning to register the world around me. The bloodied and battered, those still struggling to stand, those still struggling to keep on breathing...
And I, towering as if still a part of an active war, stared down at that mare with misplaced disappointment and fear.
Fight the darkness,
It lives inside your heart,
It's not your fault my dear son,
It is simply your past.
They were getting in its way, these mares. An equine, a unicorn, a pegasus - nothing but fragile flesh to the monster. They were aggravating but his focus was on the smaller wolves, the instinct to tear them apart at war with the instinct to form a pack, to join them, to tear apart everyone else. When the hawk came for the monster’s eyes, it ducked and snapped to evade the sharp talons In the fog, it got lost - bumping into figures and then when Aviya appeared in front, shouting, it veered to avoid her - only to run head-first into a tree. It sent the world spinning, and sent the monster into a frenzy. It was furious, twisting around to find the one that had caused the collision and finding more smaller wolves - choosing instead to finish them off.
And suddenly, there were no other wolves. The warg panted heavily, eyes turning instead to Ampere, to Najya, and the horses that were here but before it could act - a shout from the Goddess called its attention. Mesec. Before much more than a snarl and another bristling of thick fur, a rush of smoke surrounded the monster - flooding down its throat and blinding pupiless eyes.
There is no choice in the matter. It twists and convulses once more, though with her help it is not so painful this time. And then Mesec is there, trembling, boils already spreading across his belly and legs, silver eyes roaming the aftermath of the battlefield - not processing the words that his mother was casting at those that had attacked her, wondering why there were so many corpses when there had only been one wolf. His head still rang from the contact with the tree, legs trembling with the weakness from the transformations - though not for long. Just as Mesec was sure that he would collapse, some help from his mother - restoring the lost energy and clearing his head from the pain.
And there, the whisper of (Ashamin’s) magic against his heart as its pulse moved quicker than normal but in the midst of everything, Mesec barely even noticed.
“What happened?” He asked while the Goddess handed out her judgement, silver eyes looking to Najya - and from there to the faces of those that were lingering or leaving. An electric wolf brushed passed him - streaking through the crowds - though he did not have the energy to follow it right now. And he doubted that Ampere would want him by her side as she called together the Whatchers, called forth those that would be interested in seeking justice.
He did not get much time to deliberate whether to follow the blue pegasus or not, nor to return the smile that his mother gave to him, because he spotted her, Aviya, as she collapsed. “Aviya!” Her name was ripped from him as he realized she was saying his and he hurried forward, pausing only when she started to address him as Kou. He quickly looked around though he knew better, knew that the pale nurse no longer walked this earth. Fear and heartache washed over him and he dropped down next to her, his knees and feathers slick with the blood that was pooling there.. Why hadn’t his mother healed her? She was his sister. “No, no, no, you’re not going to die.” In a desperate attempt, Mesec sought the magic that he discovered that day with the dragon - dark shadows reaching out but they wouldn’t touch her - only surrounding him. It only served to disrupt the monster from coming back, latching onto his distress, the rest of his injuries were on the heart and mind. “Aviya, please. Not now.” Others had called for his father, for a healer, and he prayed that they would come and come quickly.
She couldn’t die, not this spitfire sister of his.
He feels his whole side come apart and he knows he is bursting.
In the distance, Manhattan is crying so loud long and low that Knox almost does not recognize the sound. It cannot be his companion, howling out in hurt like that. Manhattan is a warrior, and warriors don't cry.
He thinks this as the fight ends and his brother screams, something so enraged it becomes indecipherable. Knox knows this, that it cannot be Manhattan, as the dark wind rushes over his existence and wipes him clean of hurt. He pulls his teeth from his brother's raw black next, flinging silver loops from broken chain mail onto the ground. He knows his brother is screaming and he can feel it, but he cannot listen.
He doesn't know what Archibald is saying, and now that the fight has ended, so too has Knox's moment of vulnerability. He cloaks himself with expertise, covering himself in shadow and faint dapples of light, revealing his shifting and broken body to no one.
Slowly, he makes his way through shadows. In Zsoka's young form, he hopes the pain will be diminished. If the body is small, mustn't the wound be as well?
But it isn't so, and such retreat serves only to heighten the pain and the effects of the black lung, slowly beginning to drip from his nose and eyes, slowly clouding all of his senses. By the time he finds Manhattan and cloaks her in his magic, by the time the Moon God sends strength his way, he no longer knows who he is or what he has done.
Slowly, delicately, he and his burned companion retreat to the shadows of sidelines. There, away from all prying eyes, they lament ever leaving the other alone. Somehow, they both know such hurt is their own fault.
They should have been guarding each other. They should have been healing the bond.
It all happened at once, so much so that the shade didn’t even take part and instead had watched as wolves descended and chaos ensued. The air had been rife with magic and shouts and blood, d’Artagnan unsure whether he should fight for either side, which had ended in him fighting for none at all. In the end his decision was the worst one he could have made, even his children had fought in the disarray and he succumbed to indecision and a careless mind. His body was numb; he watched friends and family go to battle with creatures of another world but struggled to conjure any sort of fear for them. It was odd, it was despicable and most of all it made him ill. He fell further into the void of his monstrous heart, going past madness and transforming into an unfeeling hellion. A fate that had been on his cards for a long time and one that had finally reared its ugly head. Somewhere in the back of his mind he could hear Aramis ”aren’t you going to help?” and he had thought ”help? Why should I?” Even as he thought it he had become bewildered in himself as he looked for the will to aid in the battle.
He never did find it.
He didn’t find anything until he heard his name bellowed through the crowd by Mauja and he frowned at his spotted friend, following the commotion to notice a figure littering the floor. In a flashback he remembered Kou’s blood stained body, dumped in the meadow and frozen in death’s unyielding grip. Instead, this was Aviya. His eyes widened and he burst forward, Aramis racing after him as he tried to push his way into the fray and to the side of Aviya. Others were shouting for help and d’Artagnan automatically reached for the Time God’s magic that was no longer there anymore. His shoulders slumped as he watched the blood pool over her body "I don’t have that power anymore" pain etched into his voice "I can’t save her" he couldn’t do anything, except perhaps put her to sleep. He couldn’t though, he wouldn't, her conscious was her lifeline and the shade cast about looking for the Basin’s new healer he had seen earlier.
"Enna? ENNA?" he called across the crowd, looking for the girl who had replaced him and the girl who now had the magic that might save her. He didn’t know if she had already gone and left the battle or not, he hadn’t seen Lena here either and there was no other healer he knew. ”Don’t go to your mother, its not time yet” he mentally pleaded to his white faced treasure, his beloved Princess and greatest creation. Why didn't he help in the first place? Why freeze in place like an unfeeling monster only to snap out of it at the end when the damage was already done? "You can’t leave me, because I’ll follow you… Even beyond this world, beyond the next one" he breathed, determination in his stricken gaze.
A place with no Aviya or Kou was not one d’Artagnan was interested in and never once had he imagined that his fiery daughter would fall. Not before he.
"So you can't leave" he decided for her in a fathers desperate hope.
[mentions; mauja & aviya & enna
note; I know I didn't get chance to take part during my absence, but I presume its okay to still post to the ending.]
Poison is in everything, and no thing is without poison. The dosage makes it either a poison or a remedy.
Could nothing go right for him in this battle? Hooves, teeth, horns, fucking everything seemed to only meet air. He only prayed his family would miss his failure. How pointless it had been for him to be there. The young male felt useless, like he couldn't do a damned thing right. The feelings would ebb so would a lot of things. A black and white streak rushed past sending his thick frame racing for the ground. The right side of his body slammed into the ground causing air to huff from his lunges. Pain once more roared through his right wing as it smacked into the ground. Even as the pain flared everything went black. His horned dome smacked into a large flat rock knocked the stallion into oblivion.
Images flashed wildly through his mind as he lay quietly upon the ground. Several things happened while he was out; Ashamin checked his heart rate, Mesce turned normal again, and the Goddess healed all of their pains. Silver eyes blinked slowly as the colt came to. His hearing was muffled for a moment then it all came back. People were screaming, yelling a name he did not know. As the stud moved to stand he was surprised to find that the wounds upon his body were healed. Once on his hooves the male shook his thick body clearing his head. Turning he looked at the poor mare sprawled on the ground. Pain pierced his heart a lump leaping to his throat.
There wasn't anything he could do though, and that hurt. He wanted to help, wanted to heal the girl, but all he could do would be to get in the way. Silver eyes ripped themselves away from the heartbreaking event to find his family. Ever one seemed to be alright so he turned to look at his body. How many of those damn boils had popped in all of this activity? None, because they were all gone. His eyes widened in confusion and surprise. What had done this? Ilios had no idea how he had been healed so completely, but he wasn't complaining. Quietly he slipped away ready to head home, thoughts running through his head. Wonderings Talking
Words: 366
OOC: His voice
In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on. ~ Robert Frost
Superiority is my reason
Anger is my fuel
Blood is the cost
Victory is my prize
You almost miss the flash of blue as she appears in front of you, suddenly taking up arms once more in your defense. The disfigured shadow-creature bursts as Ahvelyn kicks it and Rohan impales it. Your gaze immediately catches the woman’s face, an uncertain smile given to her in thanks. You do not understand why she strove to protect you when she had done nothing but seemingly ignore your existence from the moment that you had brought her to the Basin. She certainly had done the same to Rohan as well, and at this thought your smile grows, the frail thing snatched just as quickly. You do not see the final moments of the battle, too wrapped up in the tiny part that played out before you. This god does not let out a death bellow, does not threaten the way that the one before it had, nor does it spew acidic blood on everyone, one last stab at retribution.
It simply dies, falling into a heap that the strange goddess harvests for even stranger items, the only thing the two felled gods have in common. You sigh quietly to yourself, regret for the creature’s death filling the spaces in your heart. You do not understand why it must be this way, all the violence to procure more. Your eyes sweep upwards to catch the last of the goddess before she disappears, as mysterious and vague as you could expect a god to be. You would not be finding answers with them, and so you do not even waste your breath. Finding your way to the familiar place alongside your sandstone man’s shoulder, you press your slight yet swollen body against him for reassurance, ghosting your lips along the outline of his cheek. There are a million things you could say to him then, about how utterly foolish he had been, but your head is swimming, your heart fluttering as they always have around him. By now you would think that you would be used to it, but it has only gotten stronger, harder to ignore.
Instead of shying from it, however, you embrace it, encouraging it further as you lean your head into his neck, subtly nuzzling the latch of his throat. To anyone else it may have been far too tender a gesture to be used with just a friend, and maybe it is, but you inwardly shrug, swallowing against the loudness of your heart, beating so erratically now for far different reasons than fear. His voice cuts through the relative warmth of the moment, pulling your eyes towards the sound in a quick and fluid motion, the darkness of his skin marred by white and the glass of his horns commanding distant recognition. But it is not him that you focus on; instead it is the heap at his feet, the sick shade of red staining the grass, the blue of her skin. You separate from him then without hesitation, your heart suddenly heavy within your chest. You fear the worst as you approach, fear that she is already gone, that the man is just hoping beyond hope that somehow you can save her from something even gods cannot undo.
But she is breathing, and you sigh a sigh of relief, tossing a meek smile to the blood-skinned man in hopes of reassuring him, despite all the terror, the utter lack of assurity that you feel. You do not know what happened, did not see, and you do not ask, do not waste precious moments determining the cause when you have a possible solution. Your muzzle presses gently against her side, your magic coming to life now almost as easily and naturally as breathing. Eyelashes brush across your cheeks as you close your eyes, losing yourself among the threads of time, pouring your soul into the energy that seeps through her skin, working desperately to undo the damage, to save her.
* attempted to heal aviya. @time, left it open for you to determine how much enna's healing affects/doesn't affect her :D
please tag enna in every post
violence permitted barring permanent injury / death
stars in your multitudes, scarce to be counted. filling the darkness with order and light.
You are the sentinels. silent and sure. keeping watch in the night.
Hooves made contact with the abomination behind her. A shiver ran along her spine as she silent prayed the creature had not tainted her. Once she regained her balance she swiveled to look at the monster that had been sent flying by her kick. A dim look of satisfaction crossed her face. By the looks of it, the filthy wolf had crashed into another and they both ceased to exist. All around her - she noted - the dark, black magic that threatened to curse these beautiful lands began to disperse. Soon the pests had been eradicated.
"Blessed be the moon." she murmured, eyes sweeping across the battlefield. A site caught her attention, causing her to hesitate. Tembovu! Long strides carried her quickly, urgently, to the side of her new herdmate. "Tembovu, darling. Are you alright?" A knot twisted in her stomach. Seeing such a strong man reduced to a thrashing body on the ground was a terrible, terrible sight. "We need a healer over here!"
The loyal were always rewarded. Her prayer was heard and the goddess sent a wave of healing magic to caress the wounds of the valiant horses whom had fought for her. Nuray felt her own injuries heal as she embraced the magic with open arms. "Thank you, my Goddess." she whispered before turning to look at Tembovu. Did it have the same effect on him? Surely it would - the Goddess wouldn't possibly leave him to suffer, right?
"It'll be okay, love." Nuray cooed to the gentle giant. He had made her feel so welcomed, so safe. Even though the battle was over she refused to leave his side - she owed him that much.
09-15-2015, 02:30 PM (This post was last modified: 09-15-2015, 02:34 PM by Tembovu.
Edit Reason: prounouns x_x
)
Tembovu
They ripped and tore at his flesh- he was a speed bump (albeit a large one)- on their way to attack others. However, two wolves find the elephant easy prey and stay to play with the fallen stallion.
One grabbed his thick crest, tugging back in delight as his great head provided but little resistance. He had no leverage from his collapsed position. Another wolf’s teeth find his hind leg, tugging it out from beneath him- making it impossible for him to rise.
A frustrated roar erupts, but is cut short as he is enveloped in heat. The pleasant warmth turns into a scalding, blistering heat- the roar of the fire and Mauja’s yells filling his ears. He thrashes in the flames, adrenaline allowing him to momentarily rise partially to his feet as the wolves are incinerated around him.
But as the blazing birds disappear, the wide and weakened stance of the elephant buckles once more. The raw flesh of his knees sinking into the bloody, acidic mud. A quiet groan escapes him, as the fire charred flesh on the left side of his neck oozes dark red. A small chunk of flesh is missing from his withers- a trophy for a now dead wolf. The acid burnt skin on his back and haunches seeps a clear, slightly pink fluid. His eyes are closed as he rests his pale, broad muzzle on the earth, sinking up to his nostrils in the muckage, attempting to block out the pain and shouts and stench of burnt flesh.
The goddess speaks, but he does not listen. A small vial, the same as last battle, thumps against his scorched neck. He winces. Then eyes open as they sweep up to Mauja, his friend standing up beside him, quietly (worriedly?) speaking his name. Tembovu blinked once, mind trying to sort through the chaos. Mau was gone, beside another fallen soldier.
Then a warm breeze. It was a godsend (literally). It rippled against his thick hide. Gods, it felt good, it was relief.
His burnt nerve endings did not believe it. They couldn’t keep up from the quick shift from agony to comfort. He blinked slowly once more, Nuray was next to him now. Her naked legs against his barrel- which didn’t hurt?
A deep breath as her quiet, sweet voice spoke comforting words. He leaned his barrel against her legs for a few moments longer, taking into account the fact that he was healed. Only the sluggishly bleeding bite at his withers remained. Slowly, he raised to his towering height.
Gratitude towards the goddess flashed through him, as she had taken care those loyal to her. Looking down to Nuray, a lopsided grin crossed his face. “Got off easy, then?” He asked lightly as he looked her over, glad to see her naked skin free of wounds. “You’ll need some protection for that pretty skin of yours, if you keep charging into battle.”
Pretty skin… Rexanna?! His head flew up, searching for her in post battle chaos. With a glance towards the grouping around a falling, dying mare he is torn. But there seems to be someone healing her, and he can do nothing to help. A glance towards Mau- should he go comfort him? No, the stallion had past here that predated the elephant, he would only get in the way. He needed to find Rex.
His large muzzle touched Nuray’s shoulder, “I’m immensely glad you are okay, Nuray,” he breathed warmth on her skin, “But I must go find someone.” And he walked to find his golden princess.
There's a burning star to lead your father home, He'll travel from afar, no matter where you roam. Rest your angry heart, my darling, don't you cry, Soon you'll see him come across the bending, bleeding sky. .
ooc| He's mostly healed and he's off to find Rex (of course. lovesick [big] puppy) XD
Mentions: Nuray Mauja
Resplendence shudders, eyes watching as her vines and mud make purchase upon Archibald's flesh. There is a sigh of relief, knowing that he is going to be fine - knowing that at least he won't die right this second. Still, the way that he keeps fighting, keeps plowing onward toward others that aren't wolves regardless of Res's mood altering magic she can't help but be distracted.
She watches as Valiance kills a wolf while she scurries back behind the Moon Goddess, hoping that maybe being this far back would offer some protection for her to attempt to heal the others who had been injured. However, before she could do much the power of some of the other attacks - of all the movement, shoves her down. Her body toppling over as her feet lose their traction upon the ground. She holds back a scream, struggling to clamber back to her feet while Valiance swoops down before her - prepared to attack any who dare to come close while she was down.
However, just as she gained back her footing, it seemed as though the Goddess had finished off the battle. Her golden orbs peered up toward the dark Goddess - meeting her gaze as the mare nodded. A gentle smile curled at her lips - did that mean she had done well? Aye, she could even feel some of the Goddess' strength ebbing toward her mood magic, but what exactly it would do to it was a different question - one that she would find out later. "Thank you…" she whispers to the Goddess, though she doubts that the mare will pay heed to her words.
And, as the Goddess leaves, she can feel a surge of strength shooting through her soul. Still, the mare (though uncertain of the Goddess' pure intentions) remembered the faith she had once put in her, and clung to the hope that perhaps it would all begin to change for the better now.
It is only once the Goddess is gone that Resplendence rushes forth - eyes clinging to Archibald, the only familiar face she can find in this hoard of people. "Archibald! Please! Stop! We must return home! We must make sure it is safe!" she says, voice trembling, body uncertain. Was he going to chase after the Goddess? Was he going to stick to this vendetta? Was he going to put himself into a worse predicament? Her voice wavers, scared, "Please… I just want to go home…" She pleads with him, eyes flickering to the ground in uncertainty. Would he listen?
Run away with me, Lost souls and reverie, Running wild and running free, Two kids, you and me
My teeth grab onto something solid, and then they clamp down, reallly clamp down, on the fur, and a welp of pain emerges from the little mini wolf thing. It struggles for a moment as I lift it with my powerful large head, and whip it around as hard as I could, but soon gravity takes its hold and after a particularly hard whip there is a crack, and the body goes limp. I shake it a few more times for good measure, before letting it drop at my feet as it poofs away, and moving forward. Ktulu. I need to get to her.
So I push on wards. Pain lacing up my leg, but the chaos around me seemed to suddenly stop. My head lifts, and icy eyes look back at everyone. The wolf god has been destroyed. We did it. The goddess hands out prizes, and to my surprise I get a fang. A black glowing fang. My head lifts to her, nodding in her direction as a kind of thanks to her, before taking my token.
But that is the least of the things going on. There are still screams, wails, and deep shaking voices. My head looks around me, looking to each group. A girl was dying, and there was a multitude surrounding her. Pained voices come from there. I should have tried to save her.
No, because you can't save everyone... and not everyone wants to be saved.
So this was war. this is what it looked like. My stomach rolls in disgust. No, I would never start a war. I would protect those I could, but that is it. That would be the extent of my participating. I am sorry, but I wont fight for our gods or theirs. I will fight for my family, and nothing else. My head turns away, and only faintly did I realize that my leg had ceased to hurt. I needed to speak with my sister.
"Ktulu."
And I say, Hey, hey hey hey, Living like we're renegades
09-15-2015, 08:40 PM (This post was last modified: 09-15-2015, 08:41 PM by Mortuus Nox.)
Mortuus Nox
Your fears have just become all too real
The pain still burned his body as Tiamat helped him as much as she could. Then he felt another wolf grab on to his shoulder, he quickly reared up gouging the wold with his horns to get it off of him and to try to protect her as much as he could . The blood ran from his shoulders and back as he stood on the sidelines while Tiamat ran gathering herbs to help heal him. She placed it over his burns soothing the sting and the pain for a moment. His gray eyes still showed no emotion as he looked ahead into the trees. She continued to place herbs on his wounds. " Thank you.... I really appreciate what you are doing for me. This really means a lot, and I hope you know I am really grateful. " His eyes looked to the beautiful ocean mare with compassion and thankfulness." I do not know what i would have done with out you Meus Amor. " He winced at the pain as the battle was ending.
He stood next to Tiamat as he watched the wolf disappear, and the mini wolves fade away. The Goddess looked over the crowed of equines standing around. She gave out gifts to some and then she looked at him. His gray eyes looked into her Lavender ones as she skinned the Wolf Gods hide and placed it over his burnt and scratched back. He Dipped his head in Respect to the kind Goddess, He was truly thankful for this gift from her ""gratias tibi ago". His Latin words rumbled deep in his chest as he looked to Tiamat with a bright smile that was soon taken away quickly by pain again. Then a purple haze filled the grounds as his wounds were healed and the burning was gone. All that remained were some scars that meshed into the other ones laying on this Pelt.
He nuzzled Tiamat's neck softly and spoke again "Lets head Home before anything else decides to creep out of the bushes " He smiled again nudging her neck softly with a smile. He was starting to fall for this mare that actually ran out into the battle to help him. Although she might have done it for anyone, this mare really brought joy to him by choosing him out of all the ones in need of help.
She didn't have time to stop and think. The pain in her shoulder burned but she was too distracted with the chaos that had erupted all around. She felt her hooves make contact with one of the demi-wolves but managed to twist away before it fell.
She spun around and saw the demi-wolves being felled all around. Others jump in to both defend and fend off the wolf-Mesec who has such little control in this strange body. However she was glad to see that those who knew him were so quick to come to his aid. It was his mother who called him back to the world - shifted him back to the familiar silver and black stallion. Seeing him back in his normal form was the first moment that Najya allowed herself to draw a deep breath.
The rift god was no more - each and every piece had been destroyed. It was over. Najya took a few tentative steps forward and pain ripped through her shoulder and she quickly decided moving was not something high on her agenda at the present moment. She glanced around at all the tired faces before looking back to the Goddess who had begun distributing the remnants of the wolf. She was surprised when a sword fell at her own feet and she could not keep the surprise from showing on her face. She looked up from the sword to the Goddess and dipped her head in polite thanks before managing a small, "Thank you."
The little mare stood gingerly with most of her weight on her uninjured shoulder. Throughout the whole mess the only real damage she sustained had come from, well, had come from Mesec. The Goddess' wind again swept through the battlefield and this time the breeze was warm. She watched as the flesh of her shoulder slowly knit itself back together leaving only a clean scar and an ugly bloodstain running down her leg. However se felt the energy returning to her tired bones and strained muscles as the Goddess' magic swept away the aches and pains. There was part of Najya that wanted to hold on to every ache and every sore muscle because this was the first time in her entire life she felt worthy of such exhaustion. She hadn't run away - she hadn't been told to flee and obeyed without question. She had fought.
And just like that, the Goddess was gone. It was over.
Or at least she thought it was.
She opened her mouth to answer Mesec but closed it again. Did he not remember that he had transformed? Did he remember none of the battle? How could she begin to tell him? When she went to try again, everything changed. The unicorn mare that had fought so valiantly to protect Mesec lay prone on the ground and the sight caused Najya's blood to run cold.
Her heart dropped at the scene that unfolded before her eyes. The only knowledge of healing she had was related to her mothers herbs, and not one of those plants grew here in Helovia. And it seemed that so much more than herbs was necessary here. Najya moved out of the way as Aviya's loved ones, and as those who could actually help her as a wave of helplessness washed over her. All Najya could do was hope and pray that the antlered healer's skill was enough to save her.
you can't offer your poison to me in your kingdom of filth
He descends through the masses, the side of his face burning in a way he cannot acknowledge just yet for how it is sure to roil his stomach. This is madness, he thinks to himself wildly. This land is not his own, though Wrath had never cared to claim the Rift as his own. It was a sick and dying world. Wrath had expected to die with it, someday. Soon, most likely. The Rift was not known for its kindness, and Wrath had vowed to find a way to get Kratos out of its reaches. Only then would he return, because he had been sure that his ending was written somewhere in the twisted fates of the Rift. How could he leave the others to be slaughtered at the hands of the forsaken gods, if he knew there was another way?
This, this he had never anticipated.
His entire body is disoriented, and he's beyond confused. Who the fuck are these people? Why is everything so...bright? Beautiful? He's never seen anything like this land, because surely this is not the Rift any longer. But to watch the God wither and die...he feels as if he has finally achieved something worthwhile. The first step, the elusive knowledge he'd always sought. A way to free the others from their chains, their bondage. He is burning with it, heart pounding and limbs trembling with the adrenaline. Success! Success at last! And even the slow fire burn beneath his skin cannot stop him from wildly grinning, eyes seeming to glow umber with the death of one of the false gods that had kept him and his brethren in the mire of despair for so long. This, this is so much more than what he'd anticipated. What had started as a simple mission to get Kratos as far from the lands of the Rift as possible had revealed to him an opportunity. The gods could be killed. Did that mean they were not gods after all?
But first, the most important thing.
"KRATOS!" he bellows, charging past those who stare around at each other as if not sure what to do now that the god is dead, their kin having turned against their own goddess. Wrath doesn't give two shits about them. This is not his land, and she is not his goddess. He has never been ruled by them before, and he shall not begin now, not when he is unsure of her motives. Let them celebrate her success, let her go beyond him and ignore him, it does little to influence him. What matters is Kratos, the one she'd attacked, the one she'd hurt. Self defense or not, it is not something he cares about. How could these so-called Gods expect them to trust in them when their own Gods had oppressed them for so long? As if the Riftians would dare to trust the words of a celestial, of any kind. This temporary of freedom from their bondage was only that - temporary. Gods grew mad with power, and Wrath would not stick around to let Kratos fall into that pit of damnation.
He whirls to find the royal child, and when he does he storms over to his side, drawn to full height and breadth. Warning off all others who would even attempt to find fault or flaw in his charge, daring them to try something and face his fury. "We must find you a healer," he grunts, ignoring the pain that forces his right eye closed. Kratos first. Turning his eyes to where they seem to be gathered, at the prostrate body of another, he grunts. "Let's move, do not take a healer from the side of the fallen. Can you walk?" They would find another, somewhere. At least...until his face suddenly stopped hurting, and he tentatively blinked open his eye. What the fuck? Glancing at the goddess, he frowned heavily. No God had ever helped before. Why would they waste their powers on such lowly mortals? Was this a display of power? A warning that they should not cross her? Wrath distrusted her reasonings, but so long as he and Kratos were still in working condition, he'd deal with it. "Come, we need to regroup." Eyes flickered across the bodies that still remained.
So they had been dumped here, supposedly freed from their chains, and yet given no information about where they were or why. Yeah, sounded just like a god.
09-16-2015, 07:06 PM (This post was last modified: 09-16-2015, 07:07 PM by Cera.)
Spine cracks beneath the weight of his hooves, and it is a sick and disgusting thing to hear, but he feels triumphant nonetheless. At least, until he turns and sees Gaucho's furious face beside him. He dances away from the fallen body of the wolf, suddenly uncertain, surely wounded. Emeralds snap away from the sight, turning instead to the mangled corpse, the sickness below him. His hooves and ankles sting with acid that makes him wince, but nothing could hurt more than his Sultan's disapproval. Later, he promises hollowly to himself, and finds how badly he misses Ilaria's voice inside his head. Gaucho's vocals draw him back to reality, and he turns without really thinking about it, obedient as he runs forth with his Sultan into the fray. Forgetting the beast he'd just slain, yet another life he'd taken to be jotted down into his ledger. Red, red, red. Why had Midas ever considered him innocent?
The rest dissolves into bloodied madness, over in what seems to be a heartbeat but what feels like an eternity to him. The wolf, the main one at least, is struck down by the goddess in all her beautiful fury. His heart aches with confusion, with a need for answers. Instead, he turns and grab the vial in his teeth, tucking it into the soft down of his wings near the base and dropping his gaze when the Goddess turns to look upon him. He doesn't deserve her kindness, wherever it resides, but he wants it. He wants answers. He wants to know that he has not failed his Lord, by attacking one of His siblings.
Eyes catch Maren's, as the Goddess finishes, and he wonders what he'd ever done to deserve the kindness that has been shown to him today. Ranjiri is gone, departed, by the time he looks around. With a soft sigh, he turns his eyes to Meg, bellowing out orders, a summons for the next eve over. And another, a stranger who stares at him as if sympathetic, as if aware of the turmoil in Cera's heart. Literal, though he does not know it. (Ashamin) He is left to watch the carnage, strangers swimming past him, the fallen form of a Basin youth...what would you think of me now, Hototo? For a moment he wishes he could speak to Gaucho, but the frustration on that familiar face wards him against it. You are not Ranjiri, he thinks sourly, jealousy and despair rearing their ugly heads.
He should have known that solitude was only ever going to be his fate in the end.
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