"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.
11-04-2015, 12:39 AM (This post was last modified: 11-06-2015, 10:14 AM by Tembovu.)
Tembovu
the Elephant
He looked at the warm soil, which still retained its moisture due to the tree canopy. Or, more specifically, he looked at the large claw that law before his hooves. His face was blank, but his eyes were stormy tempests of blue emotions as he stared at the lion’s claw. The paltry leather tie he had fashioned for it had (unsurprisingly) failed.
Luckily, he had felt the leather thong slip from his thick neck. And he had felt the cool, sharp edges of the claw slide against his chest in a slow, agonized descent to the ground. Sadly, he had halted his sweeping strides and watched it fall.
The off-white, sharp crescent was all he had left of Rexanna’s trust. He had destroyed it, in the Isles. He had felt it shatter as he held her… He tilted his black-rimmed ears back, slowly lowering his great head. Lower, lower, his thick crest shifting over the broadly flexing neck muscles.
Finally his muzzle met the large claw, thick ashy mouth lipping it gently. But he does not pick it up. He had nothing to attach it to, and the leather strand— his eyes glance towards it. It had disintegrated in the face of the drying sun, molding rain, and deadly battles. There was no hope for it.
The thought of leaving the claw behind, to rest with the remaining hidden glass shards beneath the earth. He shudders at the thought, shaking his head to himself. No. He could not let the gilded princess go so completely.
He stares forlornly at the sharp token of love, at a loss.
11-06-2015, 08:30 AM (This post was last modified: 11-06-2015, 08:30 AM by Anzanie.)
Anzanie
Nothing splendid was ever created in cold blood.
Heat is required to forge anything.
Every great accomplishment is the story of a flaming heart.
Tallsun was still beating down strong, and the heat from its rays gave a warm glow to the exotic princess. Her pelt was well groomed and shone like the stars, and even in the misty lands of the Edge the sunlight was piercing through the tees and giving comfort to all the creatures on the terraria below. Anzanie stepped forward through the trees, her frame relaxed yet her cranium held high - she was content with life. Everything seemed to be coming together, and she thought of what she had already achieved in her short time in this new world... She had risen to the rank of Glazier which was an honour in itself. And she had met him. But shaking these thoughts from her brain she decided to carry on through the region, needing to find life.
And there in the near distance she caught the sight of the booming Tembovu, his height one of several features that Anzanie could immediately spot. His pelt was next, which in the rays seemed to appear like he belonged in the deserts of her old land. Smiling fondly for her friend and colleague, Anzanie stepped up the pace and let her dainty pillars cross over the dry soil, with the dust being thrown up as she did so. Coming closer to him, her pale orbs spotted that he appeared to be preoccupied with something on the ground, but the splashed fae could not see what. In order not to frighten the brute, Anzanie gently coughed and spoke humorously, "We have to stop meeting like this," a chuckle sounded from her sweet vocal chords and she spoke once more to Tembovu, "What do you have there my friend?"
11-06-2015, 10:14 AM (This post was last modified: 11-06-2015, 10:15 AM by Tembovu.
Edit Reason: tags
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Tembovu
the Elephant
His ear flicked sideways at the sweet, light voice of his fellow crafter. Her brightness was such a contrast to the gloom in his eyes, which rivet towards her as she approaches her. His head slowly rises from his low position, raising only to her smaller height and not all the way to his towering one. He manages a small smile of greeting, the corners of his muzzle barely turning upward, before it fades as she questions the trinket at his hooves.
“Indeed, we do,” he agrees with her words, “I know more of your ability to work the Moon’s glass than I do of you,” his low voice lacks the good humor that would normally accompany such words of the elephant. He gently shakes his neck, trying to physically rid himself of the heaviness in him as his eyes finally leave the claw and probingly meet his fellow Glazier’s pale ones.
“This?” A large hoof lifts and gently taps the large claw, sending some dirt onto it’s pearly surface. He pauses, floundering for words to describe just exactly what the claw was to him. “Its a gift from… from a friend,” his eyes flare with sadness at the last word, “The leather strap I made for it didn’t hold up against Tallsun…” his explanation trails off for a moment.
“I’m not sure if I should keep it— I’m not sure if it is still meant to be mine,” though his words do not make a much sense, the depth of misery in them explains more than any words can.
Nothing splendid was ever created in cold blood.
Heat is required to forge anything.
Every great accomplishment is the story of a flaming heart.
Anzanie caught the flicker of her giant's lobes at her, with sadness within his pools that she simply had never seen before from him. Tembovu was usually the figure of a cool nature with a smile to follow for anybody. Yet now as he stood there before her, evidently with her neck having to arch downwards to see him properly, her friend appeared to look dejected and this felt like she was being crushed by his huge weight. What was wrong? His cranium then began to rise from its low height to her own and he let out just the faintest of smiles. No smile will hide those eyes, the fae thought softly. And she regretted asking about the little item that lay before his daggers as he then immediately returned to his sad state.
What would have appeared like humour from his low voice gave Anzanie the impression he was forcing himself to speak to her. Anzanie decided to smile back warmly, replying in an ultimately soft tone, "I'm glad someone knows of my ability as I don't." With her pools full of concern she then remained silent waiting for him to explain the little item he had been pondering over in hi own time. Whatever it was, Anzanie guessed that that was the reason for his sadness.
And eventually he did, explaining its importance.
"It's a gift from... from a friend."
A friend? The splashed own experience of a 'friend', dearest Misael, made her a little less naive to what he meant, and she nodded back in reciprocation with a knowing look hidden behind those pale orbs. She was further saddened by Tembovu's explanation of its demise by the betrayal of the leather strap.
But before she could even reply, he made one more comment, which struck Anzanie by surprise. Did it really mean that much to him that he was willing to be rid of it forever? The hurt in this sentence almost made Anzanie feel like the creature who had gifted it him. With a sudden burst of breath she spoke to him in a high pitched voice, almost a sense of urgency in her tone, "I can see in you that you can't throw it. Tembovu..." trying to find the words were hard enough with Anzanie becoming emotional like the pathetic female she was, "You should keep it. Gifts that we gain through relationships are almost as important as the relationship itself, and I think you would severely regret making such a decision." She then added, "And if anybody has caught you then there's every chance in the world that they're going to keep you. For that it will forever be yours." The truth caught in her throat like she was choking. The splashed spoke everything that she believed about the creature that stood before her, a kind brute. He was a large creature who anybody would be lucky to have, and her heart went out to her friend.
And then she thought: what if she created something for him? With her magic she would be able to piece together a beautiful glass chain or something of the like for him to keep it forever. She knew deep down that Tembovu would regret losing this little trinket, so why not give him the means of keeping it? With a small glint of hope in her eyes and a smile across her velveteens, she shook the settled dust off her ivory and mahogany tassles and eagerly burst out the words, "You spoke of the leather strap breaking for it. Allow me to create you another, out of our own special substance!"
A shade of surprise enters the sad shadows on his face at the urgency with which his fellow crafter speaks. His ears, which were tilted backwards, flick forward to listen to her words. ”Gifts that we gain through relationships are almost as important as the relationship itself,” his eyes fall down to the claw once again. He was not sure if this was the ‘gift’ he wished to take from his ‘relations’ with Rexanna. To him, the more valuable gifts she gave him were light, happiness, control (salvation) of his inner monsters. Not this sharp, destructive, massive claw.
But, but, if this is all he had to remind him of her… then Anzanie was right. He should not discard it (and, truthfully, he could not part with it, yet). The wound was too fresh, too deep. And perhaps this claw would be his own, cautionary reminder in matters of the heart. Gods knew, given his current record, that he needed one.
Again, his dark blue gaze raises to her as she continues to speak, “If anybody has caught you then… they’re going to keep you.” The slimmest of smiles hovers on his broad muzzle, her heartfelt flattery soothing the cracks in his dignity. “So you think I’m a catch, Anz?” a small amount of humor returned to his deep voice as the grin grew on his face.
At her hopeful look, words, and smile, his great head cocked in thought. A chain of glass to tie this claw to him? It seemed fitting— not so permanent as metal chain (for Rexanna was not permanently his), but still hardier than the flimsy leather strap he had crafted. But it seemed selfish— wrong, even— to allow Anzanie to use such dark magic in a gift only for him. But her eyes were so eager, her look so hopeful… “Alright, but only if you make something for yourself, as well. Both Glaziers ought to be ornamented in glass, don’t you think?” if not for the weight of sadness that still lingered, despite her kinds words, he would have winked.
11-13-2015, 08:40 AM (This post was last modified: 11-13-2015, 08:41 AM by Anzanie.)
Anzanie
Nothing splendid was ever created in cold blood.
Heat is required to forge anything.
Every great accomplishment is the story of a flaming heart.
Tembovu's facial expression gave indication to Anzanie that she had surprised him with his words. Her concerned mannerisms were genuine, with her cranium tilted and her pools lapping his own with a sad demeanor. She really was distressed for her friend - she had never seen him in this light and it just did not seem right. But all the talk of relationships caused her to realise why he was dejected. Perhaps the relationship had turned sour? Perhaps the other half had decided to choose someone else? This the splashed could not know for sure, and she certainly was not going to pry into his affairs. That would start to raise questions about her own little secret, one that she winced at the thought of, thinking how it would no longer be secret once the thing had come to life.
Shaking the thoughts from her skull in a juttering fashion her attention then turned back to Tembovu, the giant brute still stood there deciding on whether to preserve the memories inside the little claw with the help from herself. The exotic princess waited patiently, and she briefly smiled warmly to him amidst the silence. And then his blue pools seemed to shine with the humour she knew the massive stag for:
"So you think I'm a catch, Anz?"
Anzanie blushed with embarrassment and her velveteens blooming into a sweet grin in reciprocation. She let out a chuckle and replied in a sweet voice, "Most definitely Temb my friend! She would be a very lucky lady indeed." And this Anzanie was not exaggerating, he was a big catch! A kind soul with intelligence and a handsome creature. Tembovu had it all.
And then Tembovu made his decision: he agreed. Whether it was reluctant or if this was what he really wanted, Anzanie let the sigh out through her entire body and her pillars softened in stature. The splashed fae was relieved that he was taking her up on the offer, simply because she wanted to see him happy and with his physical rememberance of a memory. But the brute added in his own clause, which Anzanie felt almost wrong to accept... "I will make you your chain, sweet Temb. But I could not make something for myself, could I?" The words caught on her throat as she tried not to squeak too much, "If you believe I deserve it I shall," Her pools trying to remain calm at the thought of gifting herself something she felt she had not yet earned. But as she thought about it, the excitement began to take hold as she wondered what she would make for herself if she agreed, "What sort of thing would I create for myself though?"
He outright grinned as she blushed at his words and at her own, repeatedly flattering response. His head raised slightly from its dejected, low height as he fed off her sweet grin and pure happiness. His fellow Glazier was, indeed, a mare he hoped to grow a deep friendship with.
Though some clouds returned this face at the thought of the ‘lucky lady.’ She didn’t seem to think herself so lucky, currently— not after their words at the Isles. In fact, neither the Elephant nor the temptress were lucky in their choices of love… they seemed so at odds. She, a wily vixen with so many men at her beck and call. And he, with his gentle heart but eager loins, so quick to find a mare to soothe his ragged, mental wounds.
Perhaps this would teach him, this would be his lesson.
He was so caught up in his own mental games that he missed any inner turmoil or thoughts Anzanie might have had— woefully oblivious to her own current matters of the heart. ”What sort of thing would I create for myself, though?” Her question bring his mind hurtling to the present.
He purses his thick, black lips gently in thought. He knew little of the petite, painted mare— only that she had a kind heart and gentle soul. And was incredibly willing to be helpful. His dark blue gaze lightens somewhat at he studies her own, pale one, pondering his answer. “Sadly, I know little of you, my little Anzanie. So I am not sure…” his low voice fades for a moment, “Tell me, where did you come from? Before Helovia?” Perhaps her past would be one she would want a token to remember it by, unlike his own.
Nothing splendid was ever created in cold blood.
Heat is required to forge anything.
Every great accomplishment is the story of a flaming heart.
The massive brute grinned at her words and this gave Anzanie some form of comfort, something told her that she was able to give him the reassurance that right now, she believed Tembovu really needed. A large creature with a kind heart would never truly be resilient to the pains of life, and in particular, love. And with her own rather premature experiences of love in Helovia, even the naive princess knew that no one was resistant to it.
But her friend's happiness waned, and Anzanie immediately saw the demons come back to haunt his cranium. The stag appeared to be in turmoil, in a struggle against his thoughts of what was best in these circumstances. But Anzanie decided for him: her dainty pillars swiftly moved over the long grass of the Edge to be closer to him, trying to give her friend further encouragement. With a sweet smile, the splashed whispered kindly to him,
"You're never alone, my friend."
And with that she stiffened herself back up, letting her splashed pelt feel the dying heat of Tallsun as it was giving way to Orangemoon. With a new season came new problems and right now the Glazier needed to fix one last issue before moving forth to the next set of problems...
But Tembovu seemed so caught up in his brain's workings that he had forgotten that she had promised him her skills to keep the trinket close to him. She silently let this go as he then began his own little investigation into her own little treat, something that Anzanie felt she did not yet deserve. But she gave in to Tembovu's own want for it, believing that she did in fact deserve her own item.
"Tell me, where did you come from?"
Tembovu's words were low and his azure orbs gave her a seemingly meaningful expression as he spoke those words, and Anzanie reciprocated in the same low volume voice, except with a strikingly contrasting high pitch, "I came from Irrespitine. I doubt anybody in Helovia has heard of it before, as I have not come across someone who used to be there either..." Anzanie sighed with a heavy heart, her pale orbs showing the memories hurting her inside, "As I remember it, it was a tropical desert, something similar to how I imagine Dragon's Throat would be if it bore more greenery. I was part of the dyansty that ruled over the kingdom. I was soon to be married off to a suiter and I take the place of my mother, whilst my suiter would rule the lands after my father. It was something that I had never taken particularly seriously, until I was taken away from it all... But enough of that!" The hesitancy to remain in those memories of her old homeland gave her reason to end her pitiful little story. She hoped Tembovu had enough backstory from that to help her decide on her trinket. As she grew further and further into an Edge member, the further Anzanie was moving away from the naive little princess she had been when she was cast into the ocean. She was becoming another...
“Part of a dynasty?” his question is out of his mouth before he can stop it. He had not thought that little, sweet Anzanie was from ruling blood. To him, any kind of ruling blood was accompanied with some kind of greed, power-hunger, or general mistrust. But his fellow Glazier was anything but these qualities. He watched her more closely now, managing to sweep aside his personal woes and seeing that her past was a painful one. Her heavy sigh belied her sadness at retelling some of these tales.
He, perhaps incorrectly, misinterpreted her sadness for missed opportunities of her past life— the one she left when she came to Helovia. Pursing his thick, black lips in thought, he mentally skimmed the brief history she had just revealed to him. ”I was soon to be married off to a suitor and take the place of my mother, whilst my suitor would rule the lands after my father.” Hmm… “So you were to a princess, of sorts?” he questions his interpretation of her tale, ensuring that he understood her correctly. “Perhaps a glass… crown? A small one, to fit snugly midway down your horn?” he hesitantly but firmly offers his suggestion as to what she should craft for herself. “A melding of what you were and who you’ve become.”
He nods once, for his suggestion made sense to him. Perhaps she would like it, as well. He turned eyes to follow her gaze out to the sea. A soft sigh escaped him…. He never thought he’d be in such a predicament as this. Mourning a broken bauble from a lost lover. Pathetic.
Nothing splendid was ever created in cold blood.
Heat is required to forge anything.
Every great accomplishment is the story of a flaming heart.
Tembovu's apparent shock in his tone and body language made Anzanie smile sweetly. The splashed was going to have to realise some day that she was not known for her regal blood here, not like back in her homeland. She was never going to be a blue-blood in this land, and that was something the young creature was going to have to deal with before it consumed her. But she shook away these panging thoughts and let the humour of Tembovu's question get the better of her character, "Ha, a dynasty, yes. I come from a long line of ancestors who ruled the kingdom of Irrespitine and the bordering lands. It was my future..." the sadness washed over in her pools and her cranium held low, thinking of what might have been. But she then attempted to brighten up, evident that her sadness was not helping her friend's dejected feelings, and so she pushed it away with a bumbling and exasperated tone, "But this is my future now!"
Her future was apparent to her right now. The naive little creature that had stepped into these lands some moons before was now the Glazier of the World's Edge, and was seeded with the crown of her unknown love. Her belly was swelling with the secret and she could not hide it, not like she could hide the father. But all this was how it was supposed to be, right? Fate and all?
And in the midst of her troubled thoughts the massive brute caused her to hurl her lobes back to his vicinity and listen t his questions. She smiled once more, letting her soft velveteens crease into a beautiful smile that was becoming of her sooth, mahogany and ivory pelt, "I was the princess, my friend. I have three siblings, all brothers. But in the end they all found their own lands in the neighbouring kingdoms that were annexed and they ruled with their queens, so that left me."
But what Anzanie had not anticipated was the fact that this had been a way of allowing Tembovu to think of a fitting crafted item for herself. The splashed heard the words and lapped them up with a faint glow of desire. His suggestion seemed hesitant but the fae almost sprang into action with a smile jokered over her skull and her tassles being waved in the air as her body took independent action, "A glass crown! Yes! That sounds perfect my dearest Tembovu!" Her pale pools lit up with happiness and a new-found love for her friend. He wanted her to retain her past, and for that she was forever grateful. With her excitement she stepped forward to touch the bottom of his right shoulder with her velveteens in gratitude, before soothly saying, "That would mean everything to me, my friend."
And with that Anzanie suddenly remembered her own favour to him: his glass chain. She beckoned towards the claw that still remained on the ground and she said in her typical high pitched voice, "But before anything for me, I want to sort out your keepsake."
He watched her closely as she spoke of her past, once again seeing the sadness that resurfaced on her face. His ears twitched as she forcefully pushed away the clouds on her face, tone exasperated with herself. The smallest of frowns creased his brow and pursed his black muzzle, but he held his tongue. Because really, what was there to say? Helovia was her future. She was a Glazier, answering only to himself and Mauja, crafting things with god-given magic. Surely that compared with ruling a dynasty.
Though, he knew better than most, that it is not the circmstances of the past that we miss. It is the people. All the giant could do was offer his own steady friendship, the rest would be up to Anzanie to move on from her history. “A bright future, indeed,” his low voice rumbled in quiet agreement.
At her exuberant response and smile to his suggestion, he could not help a broad grin cover his face. It was the first true grin, sending an echoing warmth to his chest, that he had felt since leaving the broken Rexanna in the Isles. It warmed his eyes and lifted the weight that had settled along his broad spine. “I am glad you like the idea, Anzanie,” again his brontide rumbled, though this time warmer and louder— more akin to its usual tone.
Though his warmth faded sightly as she motioned towards his fallen trinket. Gaze cast down, he nodded marginally, accepting that he was in fact keeping the lion’s claw. It’s sharp edge would hang over his chest, a reminder of the damage his own affections had caused to another’s heart. “Please, my fellow Glazier, if you would,” his giant horn motioned lightly towards the claw.
He would watch his thoughts, for they became words. And he would watch his words, for they became actions. And he would watch his actions, for they would become his legacy. And the Elephant did not want a legacy of destruction, as he had left in his past. He wanted a legacy of restoration.
Nothing splendid was ever created in cold blood.
Heat is required to forge anything.
Every great accomplishment is the story of a flaming heart.
She could feel his gazed watching her intently as she spoke, and with such gentle orbs upon her bodice she felt comforted and continued with what was so hard to describe. The pains within her felt like hot needles stabbing her through her heart strings and it was unbeareable. But even a naive creature as herself knew that being unable to speak of her past would make her vulnerable in her future. And so she left nothing unsaid to her friend.
He replied in a low voice that agreed and she simply stayed silent, with the worry written over her pretty cranium as she wondered what her future would hold now with this in her, and how she would fare with the responsibilities of craftsman to the Edge.
But to her more apparent happiness in the conversation she spottted a smile across her friend's handsome face and Anzanie knew immediately that she may have cheered Tembovu up, if even slightly. That was worth more to her than the crafting of an item. His words over the item in question for herself seemed to light up a spark inside of her, a wish to retain some of her regal stance from her past life.
And with that the two creatures knew what they wanted. And with that she commenced into creating the trinkets. A small whisper emerged from her soft velveteens in a high pitched effort to ask for one last thing, "If I should do this, may I know who this is for?" Anzanie knew that this was walking a tight rope. He had not asked her about who the father was to her unborn child, and the splashed was ultimately disregarding this grace and stamping on it with her similar question. With a shake of her cranium she thought of the pieces that she had to craft for the pair. Anzanie had some shards of glass left from the wall build, even though a tiny piece had been used to craft Nyx's fangs. She imagined them at the base of her fore-pillars and with the opening and closing of her beautiful orbs they were there. It was not entirely useful to have such a way to keep the shards, she would much rather them be physical beings upon her. But that would take time to find someone to craft the likes of a bag.
Washing all other thoughts away she designed in her mind what the necklace would be like for Tembovu. She circled and hooked it around the claw within her brain, and could feel the tiny beads of glass, cool and glowing as the lift reflected on them. Remaining closed, her orbs squinted closed and the look of concentration filled her skull. She imagined, and with imagination came the physical presence. Opening her pools there she saw it: amongst the soil and dried grass of the Edge was the necklace, ready to have the lion's claw hooked onto for her wonderful friend. She beckoned to it using one slight dagger gesture, and spoke lovingly at her friend, "Does this suffice?"
Not waiting for an answer she did the same for her own item, the one that Tembovu had suggested: a glass crown for the base of her spiralled horn. The same process began and there was a flash of pale light as there, next to the chain, lay the idea in all its glory. It was perfect. In complete awe her orbs turned once again to the massive brute, a slight teardrop ebbing its way down her skull as she realised the magnitude of such a beautiful trinket, "My crown..."
[OOC: Omg I'm so sorry again for such a long reply :'(]
Blue eyes watched carefully as he fellow Glazier crafted. It seemed that she, with her internal light and spirit, wielded that Lady Moon’s magic with ease. Glass shards shifted, moulded, melted, re-formed into sharp spikes and slender chains. And only concentration marred her face— no darkness or fear crossed her splashed features. An ear splayed sideways in disconcertion; his had always been a wary usage of the power. After all, had it not reawakened and fed his demons, trapping him and sending him to his knees?
His hide rippled, a small frown turning down the corners of his mouth at the memory. But, for Anzanie, it shaping the shards with moon mist was merely worked with her gift. She did not fight it, as he had. Perhaps there was too much darkness in him… Perhaps the dark parts of the Moon’s gift found them and fed them, whilst with Anzanie there was no darkness to feed.
Regardless, of the reason, he was glad that his friend did not feel the Glazier-gift weigh so heavily on her soul, as he did. He looked down at the lion’s claw, now attached to a glittering glass chain. As delicate as his current connection to Rexanna— yet as hard as his resolve to fix it. He was surprised at this realization, for he hadn’t thought he wanted to fix it; he thought Rex better off without him. But now… The thought of her around Caleb crossed his mind and filled it with dark anger.
He shook the thought away, bending his head down to hook the chain with his horn, carefully shaking his head so that it would slip over his ears and slide to rest on his great shoulders. “It is perfect, Anzanie…” he paused, knowing that he had had avoided her previous question, for the rawness of the answer still hurt, “This, the lion’s claw, is from a lov—a friend. Rexanna, she resides in the Basin,” his voice grew deeper as he answered.
His eyes found the crown around her long, slender spiraled spear. He smiled once again, nodding marginally, “A crown fit for a princess,” he gave her the smallest of winks. “Thank you, Anz,” as he reached out his muzzle to touch her neck in thanks, it was clear he meant it for more than just the chain.
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