"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.
You can't take back the cards you've dealt on this
long and lonely road to hell
the throne must be such a sad and lonely place
Monster against monster, demon against demon; the Reaper rejoiced, scalded, and conjured without mercy. With effortless, ruthless, and heedless grace, he joined the sanctum of devilry and assailment, a caustic balance of discord and reverie, a rapture in blades and munitions, a scorching, searing, roaring tide of annihilation. He breathed desecration and disaster, craved every moment of ruin, stalked, frayed, hunted, and preyed upon the remorseless sanction of their gestures and movements; became another one of the carnivores seeking blood, enticed and allured by the sounds, by the scent, of bedlam and havoc. The touch, the taste, the relish of violence spurned them all on – a rolling midst and mist of labyrinthine defiance, all twisted, all contorted, into their own finite maze, only sinister, nefarious threads goading them onwards. But Deimos couldn’t see his son, perhaps one of the few things granting him a sense of discomfort, and his narrowed eyes scrutinized the scene, looking and looking for a child draped in blue; but the throng never parted, searing and seizing and seething all in one tumultuous breath, and he was left to forge through the unknown. His heart warped a little: a press, a prickle of nerves, deeply unsettling and irritating. But there was no time to search for the boy, not with the reptile searing and flailing – fire touched upon the beast amongst his hesitations and distractions, and he growled with displeasure as the embers raked across his hind, biting and gnawing and rankling his flesh. He set his jaw, he ground his teeth, and his hard, resolute stare established one last look, attempting to ignore the annoying, irksome barbs of pain, catching only the faintest glimmer of his son towards the hinds of the infidel – still alive, still present, still whole. For now, it’d have to be enough. The sword, the cutlass, the weapon advanced, slowly, hindered by the burst of flames across his hind, antagonized and irritated, bristling and audacious, maneuvering towards its massive chest, hoping to rip out its heart. His incantations, wild and ardent, untamed and bestial, alive with fervor, with cruel, malicious, vindictive intentions, scattered away from his maneuvering frame, gliding, whispering, uncoiling and boiling towards the opposing cretin, a rush of death, a kiss of quietus, a scalding, wondrous, savage, sinister art of demise.
[Scalded by fire across his hind. Getting closer to the crocodile's chest, Deimos summons his death magic and aims for the reptile.]
Photo and Table by Time Photo taken at Hero's Square in Budapest, Hungary
She hadn’t missed the way the monster turned towards her song: distracted, almost somber, completely shocked and befuddled when the notes sank into treachery. Shame and humiliation conjured deep in her core, and she nearly knelt into the slim pockets of sorrow; for she’d been so misguided, so maligned, so entranced by the thought of horror, of terror, that she’d conjured hatred and contempt for a being who’d done nothing to her… But her eyes searched over the valley, over the puddles of water, along to the bodies thrashing and unwinding from the art of fire, bleeding, buried beneath columns of ash and choking barbs of indignation; and she felt just as scorched as them, so confused, so beguiled, so enticed by the allure of battle, but not the reasons for why and how this was all happening. Her comrades bled, her God roared, the world howled against her ears, and she was surrounded by the melancholy, by the threat, of doing naught and becoming nothing. Something was amiss. Something wasn’t registering. There was an enigma, a mystery, floating high above their heads, twisting and turning in the midst – and they were all so blind, couldn’t see, there was a pull, a lure – Imogen hissed in the rush of figures and outcry, insisting on destruction, just as tempted as the rest of them towards the outlet of danger and desecration, reaching forward to point her tails at the melee. Lena couldn’t tell her yes or no, couldn’t speak, couldn’t mold anything but agony, because there was torture in every avenue: facing monsters, unwinding foes without cause or reason, but not trying to chase them down when they threatened the lives of those she cherished. So while the ivory kitsune unleashed her fiery tirade, her fervent zeal, her penchant for the taste of disaster, directing it towards the underbelly of the great beast, Lena did the opposite – and spun a vivid, bright, unyielding song for those nearby, to heal, to nurture, to goad them onward and upward, to fill the world with hope and conviction instead of despair, pain, and torment. The fight was on, and it haunted her more than she could ever express.
[Imogen unleashes a fiery blast, intending to hit along the crocodile’s belly. Lena casts a healing song for anyone around her (so if you need to be tended to for minor wounds..? J).]
her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure love
To say it could have gone a little better is an understatement. The dark stag charging, his heart pounding, and lungs gasping could feel every bone and fiber surging with purpose, with that neededness. It was a thrill, a purposeful, powerful thrill that he was about to sink his horn into something and gain the proud looks of accomplishment from those around. The deer, so young and youthful who knew little of fear and the sharp sting of battle was about to be ripped from his thrill seeking. A warm glow surrounded him and engulfed him.
Standing to the outskirts the hidden gold did his best to avoid the shifting bodies. His body still shivered and breath ragged, but the worries of his mind and the unstoppable flow of adrenaline were easing his notice of them. He looked with as little anxiousness as possible into the crowd, but saw nothing of the small dark shadow.
Then it hit him. Like a wall of bricks knocking the very breath out of him. ”elia…”[help] came the whisper through the bond. Haldir had been showered in the flames about the god. So much hurt and burned it was all a blur, and pain like he had never known roared over his thoughts. The golden gritted his teeth wanting to resist, wanting to let the deer learn his lesson, but in the end he had nothing to grip on too. Who’s fault was it for the teaching him of battle? Who’s fault was it for not showing pain and consequences? The golden picks up the fastest gait he’s carried since the previous battle. Though his mouth hung open with gasp for breath and his gait stumbled and dipped, he came with the same ghostly shadow of vengeance and power that always marked his golden hide.
Earth eyes grew blurred and perhaps in that he missed the little deer who lay crumpled up small as he could make himself. The cloak that had hidden the golden flew off his neck revealing his struggling self as he came right into the middle of the fray. A dark shape slithered on the ground, raging in some darkness of evil and the gold, in the whirl of his charge and struggle brought his horns to bare. Ready to sink into the only target that made sense.
"Talk?"
OOC:: TEAM SUN GOD
Haldir curls up small when hit by the fire.
Thranduil sensing the hit charges in, REVEALING himself, but misses Haldir. He instead finds the crocodile and charges it.
No mentions.
Feel free to use any force/magic on Thranduil, short of killing him.
Please tag in every post.
Ask Thranduil any question in the world, he'll be forced to answer on his profile. PM with your question.
Knox We didn't know we knew you 'til we lost you</style>
A hiss. That is all that the dark one hears before the tail hits him, flinging him back like a droplet of water encapsulating one tender grain of sand. That is all that is left of him before he falls in the wet and the wild.
His side aches and burns with an old wound: Archibald's. He remembers now, faintly. Already the dark trails clear from his vision and the muddled memories return. He watches in awe from the ground as his magic takes hold, turning the now fully visible god's eyes a smoky silver. This is what power looks like, he knows: power looks like blindness, and he has it.
Slowly he lifts himself back up to stand. His dull eyes shine and he notices the world above him lit with flame. The God of the Sun, of course. How could it be the moon, when he hadn't felt her magic stir within him? How could it be anyone he loved?
He wants to fight, but not for that God. And he wants to run, but not with this body and this vision. He needs blindness, now, to lend himself strength. Slowly he gathers himself, a rising totem, a sand-drenched bloodstone, and lets his magic trickle up his veins. His eyes grow silver and solid, swirl with heavy smoke, and slowly he turns back to the battle. He forgets about his companion, tending to his child on the outskirts. He forgets about his family and the love he's claimed to have.
He forgets in some willing part of himself how to see. In ecstasy, in blindness, he runs to charge the great God's chest and win.
I'm gonna carry you in
In my head, in my heart, in my soul
"No!"
First thing this one has said in long [time, days, even. How can I speak when you scare me into silence? How can I speak when I don't know who I am?]
Is a cry, a small shout, is [hurt, hurt,] hurt. This one struggles, moves about, [kicks you, Manny for god's sake would you quit it, mutt, I can move, I can walk, let me go, can't you see that this hurts, can't you hear that you're killing me, you're wrecking me? Dragging me in the sand like a long piece of meat, a dark shadow stretching like poetry. I'm not your mutton I'm a heartbeat, I'm not your plaything I'm a strongman. I'm a man. I'm a beast. I'm a breather.]
Breathing, heavy. Everything weight, big, hard, parts. Sand hits, [scrapes, burns, tears at my flesh like the cruelest of blades. Small armies on the ground, reaching up with curling fingers to rip apart my knees. My eyes, too, filled with grains. My mouth stuffed with dirt. Can't you see what you're doing, can't you stop, can't you] "Stop!"
This one is forming words. This one was learning from you, and now this one knows. Kicks, kicks you, stands up, runs forward. Not thinking just running, [not waving but drowning in fear of your betrayal.
How could you do this to me? What even is love if it means this hard betrayal, this cringing stinging heart filled up with sand? Ventricles pumping blood filled with soil, soil grinding up blocking beings. I won't forget this, Manhattan. Even when I'm old enough to understand, I won't forget your betrayal.
Already, I am my father's son, all drenched in shadow and dirt. Already, I am a beast of vengeance.]
10-04-2015, 02:33 PM (This post was last modified: 10-04-2015, 08:07 PM by Ahvelyn.)
I listened to him like he wanted to be listened to—saw no point in challenging such fervent authority. He had the passion of a nest of snakes: each an anaconda wrapping around the other, seeking to strangle the others until it was all that was left. I would have been a fool to interfere with that, just as he was a fool to live that way.
But even fools can have good intentions. I wasn't yet certain as to whether or not his were good, but I had failed to find a flaw in his nobility as of yet. So when he urged me to run forth with him and towards the god reigning terror, I obliged. I kept pace with ease, stayed steady and resolute. This was loyalty, something I hadn't felt for someone other than my own lost kin—you and she, whom I'd not yet spotted in the distance—for quite some time.
But my pace flagged when fire rained down. These were the hazards of these magical lands, such that did not exist in other, much more sensible worlds. I watched as I faltered, my hindquarters sinking in the sand as fire caught my hide and set the thinning fur there into sputtering flames. But I was a coal, child, this is the face of my body. It was only fitting to see my cracks on fire.
Even as illness slowly overtook me, I was strong. With a confidence I kicked out until the last of the hurt sputtered out, continuing to run forward through every wincing step. I wouldn't leave that boy to fight alone: there was a god there, all splayed out and blind on the sand, and he had to be taken down. With that same pride I haven't forgotten I ran forth, three horns stretching delicately for the crook of his arm and his side: that delicate parcel of skin that hides the heart.
Ahvelyn
i wanted to tell you that things would be different this time
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>
My horn sank deep into the crocodile's eye and I couldn't help but shudder the sound it made when the tip of my horn punctured it, or at the feeling of it sliding in. I kept pushing, though, and didn't stop until my forehead was pressed against the crocodile's eye. He was writhing from all of the attacks and his head began to move and my hooves slid on the ground as I moved with him. I could have pulled my horn out and attacked again, but I tried to stay with him, twisting my head and neck in ways that were totally uncomfortable just so I could do as much damage to his eye as I could.
Then, suddenly, I was stumbling back from the crocodile, but I could feel a weight on my head that hadn't been there before. I could only imagine that I had a chunk of the crocodile's eyeball stuck to my horn (ew). I could hear explosions, hear yells and screams and I wondered just how many had showed up and were fighting. I wondered if any were fighting against our god like in the first two battles.
The battle raged on and I knew that I needed to keep fighting, especially when the crocodile roared and charged. I didn't take the time to look and try to see what the crocodile was charging for, I just ran and tried to get in front of him so I could use my horn again to try and stab its throat. Maybe if I was lucky again my aim would be true and I would sever an artery and it would bleed out on the battlefield. I just knew that I wanted the fight to be over before anyone got hurt or died. We'd already lost one Helovian, Mesec's sister, in the last battle. We didn't need to lose more.
"."
ooc://
has a chunk of the crocodile's eye stuck to her horn. when it charges she tries to get in front of it to stab it in the throat.
Somebody speaks to me, and I offer him a warm smile. His coughing is something I have sympathy with, as my own lungs feel full of tar and phlegm. A sudden warmth spreads through me, starting at my chest, and my ears prick as I can suddenly no longer see the myriad of colours. Although my throat still aches with tar, there doesn't seem to be any more bubbling out of my orifices, and delight spreads across my face. "Thank you, mister. And yes, if we pool our healing resources we can make more of a difference."
My eyes travel back to the fight. The crocodile has become visible, a foul creature of truly colossal proportions, and a shiver travels down my spine. My gaze continues its path and there I see something that turns my heart to ash. Erthë, the darling white filly, soaring through the air like a ragdoll. "Erthë!" I bellow, my ears ramming forwards, my eyes gaping to wide, horrified orbs. I find myself storming forwards, herbs flapping in my mane, able to pull myself from my tunnel vision for long enough to throw some painkilling herbs in the direction of Megaera, my Sultana, as I see her miss the crocodile and appear to strain her wing. As my queen, I am morally obliged to help her, and I know her to be a fierce warrior who can inflict lots of damage on our foe if she is at full health.
Finally I arrive at Erthë's side, where a few others have already rushed to her aid. "You will go being a little warrioress, won't you?" I say to her, forcing humour into my voice and a smile onto my lips. Truthfully I am terrified. Who knows what damage has been done to her? Quelling my fear, I stand close to her, to protect her from any damage I possibly can.
_____
TEAM SUN GOD. Is healed of GLL by Miykael, then goes to stand over Erthë to protect her. On his way past, he throws herbs towards @Megaera , to ease the pain of her strained wing.
10-04-2015, 05:45 PM (This post was last modified: 10-04-2015, 05:45 PM by Ashamin.)
ashamin
The Haruspex
Idiot.
It was a reprimand for the self, a faint reminder that he must in fact hold himself accountable. As he fell, he remembered this.
The Crocodile God's rough hide and scales scraped the thin skin on his leg on the way down, baring muscle and splashing blood onto the ground. It was just a shallow wound, but a wound nonetheless. He couldn't ignore it, as was his habit. He had to be smart, like his father would have wanted, like Einarr would have wanted, like he had no other choice but to be wise.
Wisdom was something he was taking a long time to grow into. As he stood again on wobbly knees and cantered forward, teeth bared to bite the beast's wrist, he looked up to the sky. It was foolish, but it was where his eyes needed to be. He saw, there, the beast from the threshold, Gaucho. There, too, was the Sun God, brilliantly aflame and among his kind.
What was it like to fly?
Just as the haruspex wondered this, he saw a black dart. A sleek figure, grand and familiar in a way that his own father was, fell hazardously from the sky. In an instant, he knew the man with the rough voice: the one that had led him to where he was now.
"EINARR!"
He called out with a passionate fury reserved for everyone, for that was how the Haruspex cared. Loyal to his herd and loyal to this new family he had made, but loyal above all to those in danger. Loyal to those he could help.
Uselessly he skirted away from the crocodile's path, searching for the dark stallion in the dust of his fall. Ashamin didn't know if Einarr was hurt, if he'd disappeared into the crocodile's shadow and been harmed by one of the many explosions let loose by the loud girl he ran past, but the haruspex knew he had to find him. He had to find Einarr, the warrior who'd gotten him here.
Charges, tries to bite the Croc's wrist. Calls out to @Einarr.
See Ashamin's profile for more information about Lochan, Rakt, and his various items.
All magic and force allowed, barring death and permanent injury.
Do not tag me, please message on skype instead
10-04-2015, 06:30 PM (This post was last modified: 10-04-2015, 06:31 PM by Tiamat.)
Look to love, you may dream—hope is home, and the heart is free.
“Please, you need to get out of here!”
Her cry is one of earnest, her voice trembling a little bit as she struggles to keep her own composure, struggles to keep herself together amidst the violent rioting of bodies and blood. She is not here for herself. In the thick of the fray, in the middle of the brutality and hate, she stands over the dappled gray mare—to protect, to shield, and to prevent at least one more sufferer from falling victim to the savage ferocity of battle. Tiamat knows that she can’t do much—she cannot bring an end to this bloodshed and this pain, as she would like—but she is going to do everything in her small, meager power to make a difference.
With her white eyes wide with fear, the blue mare steels herself against the panic and anxieties that are bubbling to burst within her chest, instead focusing perhaps a little too much on the head-winged mare and not allowing herself to abandon the stranger’s side. Fortunately, she is not alone. Soon she and the tiger are joined by another creature—an equine, yes? She doesn’t focus on his peculiarity now—who buffets the onslaught of violence away from them. She is not alone. “Come!” Tiamat exclaims, but the gray mare is already on the move, lunging in another direction that is not towards the fringes of the battle.
“Wait—!” The ocean mare cries, stepping to follow her, but abruptly she is shoved roughly in the shoulder. Her voice is cut off by the whimpering of pain, and Tiamat stumbles to the side, managing to catch her footing before falling into the shallow waters. She doesn’t see who had collided with her, doesn’t care, gritting her teeth against the deep aching in her muscles and stumbling forward again.
Regaining composure of her surroundings once more, she sees the dappled mare with a little white filly, seemingly wounded. Her lips parting in a gasp of concern, Tiamat rushes to their sides. Sure that the head-winged stranger has enough people to protect her now, she turns her attention to the tiny injured filly. “Here—” she says, pulling a collection of herbs from her mane, making a salve to rub across the child’s seemingly swollen leg, and wrapping it firmly with the seaweed that adorns her hair “—it will help with the pain.” She offers an encouraging smile. She knows that the filly will need much more care, but it is the best she can do for now, until she is at least out of harm’s way.
notes;TEAM SUN GOD (unofficially)
Tries to get Evaneska to safety before she is shoved roughly in the shoulder. Stumbling before regaining herself, she looks to see Evaneska next to Erthë. Noticing the wounded filly, she rushes to her side; makes a salve and wraps her wounded leg in seaweed, to try to alleviate the pain.
*If Chan would like me to change anything, I will! “Speech.”
so open up my eyes, tell me I’m alive.
this is never going to go our way.
Huffing as I braced for the impact for my adorned horn to have while striking the Crocodile, I stumbled forth; tripping over my own feet but catching myself before completely collapsing into the ground. I had missed, and the crocodile was quick to move and set his sights on others. I watched for a split second before turning my head in the quick search for Tembovu among the chaos. I couldn’t find him in that second I glanced around and panic set in quickly. I remembered his body underneath the Wolf God as he melted and the sight of it was enough to cause a flurry of bad decisions to grow in my mind. "TEMB!" I shrieked, frantic in all definitions of the word.
As the crocodile moved, I stepped back for a second, emitting a small cough before attempting to take a huge breath and charging the Crocodile again, aiming once more for the crocodile’s side. Wishing I had magic, but knowing my pointed horn would work well enough for at least something. If that didn’t work, at least I had hooves. However for now, I hoped my horn would be able to at least pierce the shimmering armor that covered the god’s body.
I felt the heat of fire overhead and magic surrounding as I charged, black goo slipping from my nose and eyes as I charged. Though so much panic and other more important things on my mind took my mind off of the sickness I had just gotten and I paid no attention. I just wanted the reptile dead, regardless if it harmed me in the process.
Her father had told her that her wings would make her free. Fly free. Afis seris. Though she didn't show it at the time the words had struck deep within her mind and had stuck with her. The idea of freedom was one that she had latched on to and because of that she'd started trying to teach herself to fly without the help of her parents. She wanted to show them that she could do it and she could. Somewhat. It was still something very new to the filly, but it wasn't nearly as bad as she'd thought it would be. It was, actually, quite fun and she found that she enjoyed the view she had of the land below.
For the first time Mordecai flew out of the Throat's boundaries and didn't stop. She kept flying, kept watching the land below until, in the distance, she could see a battle. Her heart called for battle and without thinking she flew to it. She gradually made her descent and surprised herself with a landing that was more fluid than anything she'd attempted in the throat. The second her hooves touched the ground she was running, her dark eyes darting around as she tried to locate anyone she knew, but most importantly her parents.
"Ave!" She cried out when she saw the dark stallion attacking the huge creature. Then there was her mother, who looked like she might be in pain. "Mai!" Who did that?! Like she really needed to ask, it was obvious that the reptile everyone was fighting had done it. She would kill it. No one hurt her mother.
Mordecai had every intention of hurling herself into the battle and battering her own hooves against the creature, but she stopped by her mother. "Wing." She hissed as she looked at it and she remembered how her own wing felt when her's had been hurt. It caused a hatred to burn hot and violent in her heart and she looked at the crocodile, who was now sentenced to death in her mind. There was a strange feeling bubbling inside her small chest and, without knowing, she'd activated magic she'd been born with. In her anger it was directed at the crocodile, the one that she wanted to see dead more than anything or anyone else.
"."
ooc://
slight pp ok per laine.
mordecai tries to magic the croc!
:: [ Magic: DarkxWater | Can turn bodily fluids into acid ]
:: [ Restrictions | Lasts 30 seconds causing painful burning sensations and physical burns ]
MORDECAI
when the last light warms the rocks and the rattlesnakes unfold
mountain cats will come along to drag away your bones
10-04-2015, 07:10 PM (This post was last modified: 10-04-2015, 07:26 PM by Aithniel.)
Aithniel laughed in satisfaction as one of the fireballs she summoned hit the monster square in the face. It was an odd looking beast - like a wingless dragon, and chaos quickly ensued again. She turned an ear toward Erebos, asking if he was okay, and she was grateful for his response. He seemed to be doing quite a bit of damage as well, and she grinned, circling her friend carefully. Rikyn seemed to be totally preoccupied as well - with some other girl, and she ignored him for now. Her heart hurt too much, and he seemed to be doing fine on his own. Hadn't he always though?
The sun child was suddenly hit from the side, a fray of wings and bodies shoving her from her flight path, and she went scrambling for balance. "HEY WATCH IT!" she hollered at no one in particular. Ampere had shown up right about then, trying to shield her, and she furrowed her brows. Why her? Surely there were others in the Dragon's Throat she had to babysit more than herself. "Uuhhhh thanks," she murmured, furrowing her brows before setting up for her next attack.
The time it took regain her balance meant that she had to prepare for another attack, but there was so much distraction, that it took her a few moments to get airborne again. Aithniel flapped her wings hard, gasping for breath as she did so, and carefully, she circled the beast.
As a last minute effort, she aimed to land on the crocodile fiend's head and summoned a big fireball, aiming to propel it right into his head. "Say good night, sucker!" she bellowed, keeping her balance with outstretched wings. "This is what happens when you mess with Helovia and my father." The fire child grinned wide as she sent her flames careening down, the steady stream ablaze with righteous anger.
There was nothing quite as spectacular to release ones frustrations on than murdering a god of a foreign nation.
A i t h n i e l
Hope not ever to see Heaven. I have come to lead you to the
other shore; into eternal darkness; into fire and into ice.
Ophelia had Torleik had talked, their words smoothing wounds and mending her heart. She had chosen him - above all else. His heart was placed on a pedestal in her soul above that of the gods, and she hoped that he understood just what an honor that was. Though not vain enough to believe her affections were unique, she had never before given them to anyone. Only the God of the Sun had ever earned her loyalty before Torleik had charged into her life - all chivalrous words and handsome smiles. There were no others that compared to him, and she wanted to share life and death with the mortal she had chosen.
But she also prayed that he would understand that who she was was not going to change. Ophelia was a wanderer, fighter and stealthy creature - one who would not shy from a challenge, though she was cunning and intelligent and would win by any means necessary. Her desire for vengeance was murderously strong, but her loyalty was undying. Today would be a test of this pledge they made, as she ran into battle head long - keen eyes sweeping the horizon for this threat and making her move.
Surely he would be proud of her as she worked her way through Mauja's ice spikes, and she felt her heart surge with power and pride as her horn slipped into the flesh of this scaled, horrible monster, piercing the gas filled expanse of his lung. She heard the wheezing noise, and she grinned in satisfaction, quickly loping away on the sloshing water to avoid damage from blood and poisoned air. Ophelia looked around, never stopping moving when she saw Torleik, a bruise on his hip.
She ran straight for him, quickly touching her muzzle to his side. "Are you all right?" she whispered softly into one of his fluffy ears. Once she was sure that he was, she smiled. "Come, lets do this together. You and me." Ophelia nodded her head back toward the creature and inched carefully toward a leg, aiming her horn to once again try to pierce the tough and angry hide. Tinek joined them, chirping and using his talons to try to pry off the scales.
Undertow has come to take me. Guided by the blazing sun. Look at everything around us. Look at everything we've done.
Please. Anyone. I don't think I can save myself. I'm drowning.
Everything around this battle unfolds so fast, but the warrior's heart beats like a drum to the pounding blood in his ears. This place, this battleground of blood and fire, is where Einarr thrives. Red-brown eyes narrow as he comes closer to the half-seen beast, teeth gritting as he prepares for impact. A sudden, gruff sound escapes the blood rider's lips as his hooves smack like dual iron daggers against the crocodile's armor-like scales. Sudden pain, white hot and furious, burns on the bottoms of Einarr's hooves and he cries out a second time--though this time does not sound like the cry of his rank magic. This was a curdled release of pain and fierceness. Sucking in his breathe, Einarr snapped his wings open and let the warm air from the surrounding flames carry him to the ground.
The stallion knew he could not land well on these injured feet, so he let his hind hooves strike the water covered sands first. Wildly, flapping massive wings to stay in a rear, Einarr lashed out at the crocodile's side. The pain erupted in the soles of his hooves, but he continued to push on. If he was to endure pain, so was this creature. The shadowed guardian would not let this fight end without his weight thrown against the monster as fully as his body would allow him. Reddened eyes darted around in search of the bay warrioress that had followed him into the heat of this endeavor, and finding her he noticed just in time to be a witness to her injury. Rage, unbridled and explosive, radiated through his entire being and Einarr struck at the crocodile's side with gnashing teeth.
Two voices called out to him amongst the chaos, pulling his attention away from the reptilian assaulter. "Ashamin!" The beast called out, eying his painted acquaintance skeptically. He knew the stallion had been called into warrior action by Einarr's encouragement, but he did not expect the lion-tailed fellow to appear here. "ASHAMIN! GO TO SAFETY!" He called out, wings beating and bringing him above the croc once more. A small tingling sensation rippled through his front hooves, and the pain dulled. In the distance, a song could be heard on his ears, and the stallion wondered if it healed his injuries. The second voice that called out for him was his daughter. "MORDECAI!" His voice ran cold and he swooped low, trying to herd the young filly and her mother away. "Meg take Mordecai away!"
einarr
I raise my flag and dye my clothes
It's a revolution, I suppose
We're painted red to fit right in
Einarr lands in a rear and tries to kick and bite the croc. Then he gets in the air again, is healed by Lena's songs, and tries to herd MEGAERA and MORDECAI away.
Mentions: Mordecai, Ashamin, Megaera, Lena (passively)
*Permission from Heather to have Lena's magic effect Einarr
It had not been with any degree of caution or expertise that the Warlander had plunged himself into the turmoil of battle. He is far from a practiced warrior. It is mostly the cry of warfare, the call of blood and violence, the instinct to fight and defend that guides his large body forward. He only knows the desire in his heart and the fire in his veins, the drive and the will, and he listens to them blindly.
He is not even half the fighter that his brother had been—by no fault of his own (or so he tells himself). He had been put aside while Killian had been trained and roughened in the art of combat, the younger left to his own fantastical devices.
An experienced warrior would probably have been more conscientious of his surroundings, more strategic in his advance, but Rohan is not. He plunges forward recklessly, with a snarling cry of war releasing itself in a low rumble from his lips. It is purely by chance that the Warlander manages to reach his target unscathed (or reach his target at all, for that matter). Dodging the chaos of bodies, he feels the arch of his neck stiffen and jolt as the points of his antlers make contact with the Rift God’s back.
With a misplaced smile of victory curling across his lips, Rohan is not modest in the blooming of triumph that fires through every fiber of his being, igniting his muscles and lending to his foolish carelessness.
Staying close to the crocodile’s side (for he couldn’t have moved, even if he’d wanted to) the large stallion thrusts himself upward. Rising in a powerful rear with pale hair flying and hooves flailing, the Warlander steadies himself before plunging downwards. He aims the force of his fore hooves at the opponent’s neck, hoping to impale—or otherwise damage—the base of the crocodile’s skull. His body sings with adrenaline, green eyes narrowing in his resolve.
notes;TEAM SUN GOD.
After scraping the crocodile's back, Rohan rears up and forcibly pushes himself down, aiming his front hooves at the back of the Rift God's neck/base of his skull. “Speech.”
RUN AWAY WITH ME lost souls and reverie; running wild and running free.
The dive had been reckless, she should have known that but the Sultana’s brave heart had followed where Einarr lead, even down towards a thrashing half-seen beast of unknown power. Chao reigned and to all sided the fighters struck at the mighty crocodile and it struck back. Beneath her the she saw the beast writhe but it took ans unexpected movement and the paired attack seemed to be thrown off balance. Einarr’s hooves struck the beast but on sharp scaled ridge and and in the split second her attention was drawn away from her own, Megaera’s own attack was dodged b the crocodile.
The Sunspear let out a furious grunt but she was still falling. With a clear place to land, she could have pulled out of the dive with her usual deft skill but the beasts movements and the other bodies that moved all around her made for a more treacherous landing. She rolled in midair, tucking her wings but she was forced to fling them out again to soon, too fast, in order to prevent her legs from slamming into the earth at the wrong angle and she felt a horrible wrenching in joint of her right wing.
She let out a yell, half pained, half angry, as her hooves found solid purchase on the ground beneath the salty water. Immediately her wing drooped slightly, the muscles refusing to hold it up as well as they should and screaming at her when she would not let them fall. Megaera backed away, hastily, trying to ignore the pain as she tried to refocus and find an opening for her next attack. The little bunch of herbs hit her on the flank and instinctively she spun, prepared for battle, only to see that it was her healer who had tossed them at her. She had been right in his promotion at least, a healer not afraid to be in the think of things, and pride in her Dragon’s Throat family surged in her heart. Quickly she bent and snapped up the herbs and swallowed them but before she could turn back to the croc, heard a cry she knew well, one she would always answer to and turned to behold a mystifying sight.
Mordecai was there, Mordacai was flying, and for an instant she forgot about the war that raged for the sight of her precious child, near grown and finally taken to the sky was like seeing the sun rise after a long night. But before she could think clearly her daughter was beside her, just as fierce and wild as her father, and Meg could almost sense the power that radiated off the yearling and towards the crocodile.…The Crocodile! Horror flooded Meg as true danger of the situation struck her. Someday, they might ride into battle side by side but not now, not yet, she was still too young. The shimmer of magic seemed to fade, though the anger on Mordecai’s face lingered and Megaera knew she would attack because the dark girl was her father’s daughter, and Meg’s as well. “NO! MORDECAI GET BACK!” She bellowed and the mother surged forward, ignoring he own pain, to force the girl away from the fight. She had faith in the Sun God, in her fellas that the battle would be theirs but none of that mattered if her daughter would be put in harm’s way. And so she pushed and prodded until they would be well out of range.
**PP permission from Ali**
Mentions: @Einarr@Badger @Mordecai
Summary: The croc dodges Meg's previous attack and she strains her right wing as she lands. Receives painkilling herbs from Badger. She watches Mordecai approach and is stunned for a moment as Mordecai directs magic at the croc. Regains composure and forces Mordecai far out of range of the battle. Megaera has left the fight.
FAC FORTIA ET PATERE
be brave and endure
:: permission given for use of magic and force :: please tag Megaera in all posts ::
"What the FUCK!?" Öde swears as his course is suddenly and unintentionally altered by the oncoming slam of another horse's body. His horns cut thin air, thin fucking air, not the glorious flesh of a god. Meanwhile where their flesh collided, on his left side, a tenderness to touch and a faint swelling had started.
Öde slammed his hooves into the thin dirt so hard the shock of the halt reverberated up his legs and jarred his scrotum, his balls slapping audibly against his inner thigh. His head wheeled, teeth bared, but then he caught sight of a fire ball wheeling right past, almost near enough he might have singed his whiskers off. His balls tightened and hugged up closer to his groin at the sight. Damn, uncle's got some power.
The revelation of that distracted Öde from pursuing the idiot pegasus, whom Ki'irha had descended upon anyway. Sparing her a red glance and little else (the battle still raged after all), Öde launched himself back into the fray. He kept close to Deimos, his horns lowered once more in an attempt to spear the side of the crocodile. All the while he did his best to dodge the bodies of other horses and the flailing of the croc, the damn croc he was dead set on killing because fuck he needed something from this god. If not an erection, if not protection, then DEATH.
Thrashing his head back and forth, Öde hoped to carve away some of the scales and reveal the meaty innards of the immortal which he would make mortal again. Give me your power god he seethed.
bg- resurgere.deviantart.com
TEAM SUN
Goes in with horns again at croc's side. Mentions @Deimos and some Gull and Ki'irha too :D
Tag me only if starting a new thread. Magic or force permitted any time, including death - no decapitating. Be aware active magic doesn't work in his vicinity due to his magic!
10-04-2015, 11:22 PM (This post was last modified: 10-04-2015, 11:23 PM by Random Event.)
An instance of BFB momentary relief can be felt, but none of the infected seem near enough.
An instance of GLL momentary relief can be felt, but none of the infected seem near enough.
Ampere is cured of GLL!
3 instances of BFB momentary relief can be felt, but none of the infected seem near enough.
An instance of GLL momentary relief can be felt, but none of the infected seem near enough.
Ode feels momentary relief from GLL.
2 instances of GLL momentary relief can be felt, but none of the infected seem near enough.
YOU'RE PART OF A MACHINE, YOU ARE NOT A HUMAN BEING so you run on gasoline
Hooves collided with the thick skinned croc’s skull, igniting a flame long since extinguished within the cream brute. A dash of bloodlust and just a pinch of revenge were only the first ingredients in the mixing pot. Something behind those brilliant blue eyes stirred, something he had been fighting. He drew upward once more, lips drawn in a vicious snarl that revealed his teeth, he prepared to strike, wings pumping to keep him in position above the croc. This wasn’t him— or who he wanted to be. This was the war machine, prepped and prepared to kill. Unmerciful and brutal, a savage beast with an unsustainable hunger for flesh and bone. The past had come back to do more than just haunt him. It had come back to possess him.
His sights were locked, aimed ready to—FIRE! Scorching heat touched his withers and back as fingers of flame caressed his skin and burnt both hair and feather alike. The beast let out a savage cry of pain before dropping from the sky like a meteor down into the shallow water of the salt pan below. Tremendous amounts of agony rippled through his body; he had met the earth with a solid thump and he paid for it with suffering. With the flames extinguished in the salty waters, he was up and back on his feet in the blink of an eye. The close encounter with death was not enough to rattle the dog from his prey. He shoot daggers from his eyes toward those whom rained hellfire down onto the croc (those with absolutely horrible aim), “Bloody pyros!” He bellowed voicing his anguish before shooting back into the air, more awkward than he had been previously, but none the less bold.
The crocodile God now below him began to thrash about, searching for someone to make his next victim out of. True Gods be damned if he would let that be him, but he wasn’t thinking straight, or thinking at all. This was who he was. This was who he was meant to be! Ruthless, unstoppable, a weapon of war! Let the bastard wound him! Let him add to the collection of scars that covered his now charred hide! For in return he would have only one thing from the False God— for he could not be one of the True Gods— the pleasure of watching him die! The immortal swooped down again toward the head of the God, this time headed toward the creature’s eyes. Mindful of the fire still raining downward he dove in, landing on the creature’s head, he dropped his weight down above the remaining ruby eye. In a flash he had made up his mind— he was ready to attempt something so grotesque if he had been his ‘normal’ self he would have been sick to his stomach. He dipped his head and aimed to rip out the crocodile's eye with his gnashing teeth.
Summary: Is burnt along his back and wither area, falls from the sky but quickly recovers yet still suffers from burns. Lands again on the crocodile's head and attempts to rip away/eat the croc's remaining eye with his teeth.
.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
![[Image: 5381546acbe33]](http://images.helovia.net/index.php/view/5381546acbe33)
![[Image: lovelyskylark.gif?8]](http://a.deviantart.net/avatars/l/o/lovelyskylark.gif?8)
![[Image: 57c5195f31f1b_by_relibelli-db9li1z.png]](http://orig06.deviantart.net/bb9e/f/2017/138/7/1/57c5195f31f1b_by_relibelli-db9li1z.png)
62.5/62.5 HP
