"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.
04-28-2016, 06:45 PM (This post was last modified: 04-28-2016, 06:53 PM by Time.)
THE HARUSPEX on his own
The sun was oppressive.
Ashamin's two companions lagged behind, thick winter coats dripping with sweat as they strolled along the shore looking out towards the Dragon's Throat. If this was the desert island's clime in Frostfall, then they didn't want to come back and visit in any other season.
The Clovenheart's long tail dragged across the sand, leaving a thin tail in the hot sand. He cast no long shadows, and the thick beard that was beginning to overtake the lower half of his features was no longer weighted down with frost. It was obvious that on this backdrop of tans and blues, he in all his black and white glory did not belong.
Then again, glory was a fast-fading word. That didn't even seem to fit him anymore. And if standing out meant someone was more likely to see and challenge him, then so be it. The last time he'd come even close to this territory he'd been attacked by a phantom in the mist, and only barely managed to drag himself with his injuries, despite winning the fight.
He stood now anxious but eager. It was true that he had experienced some cold nights in visiting the Dragon's Throat with Maren, but with Birdsong fast approaching the days were heating up and he was losing his own personal cool. He shifted where he stood, Johnny's soft sheath carrying mriga feeling too thick for the weather. His two companions looked out from his right and left--all bodies stood on the offense, all eyes sought an opponent.
Perhaps it really was an addiction, this constant need to fight and win, but Ashamin wasn't willing to entertain the idea. Either he was a hypocrite, seeking knowledge of all but himself, or he was simply too smart to let himself go down a path that would surely bring him nothing but misery. Irritated at even the word--addiction, like a snake poised to bite--cropping up in his mind, Ashamin shook his head and gnashed his teeth, rattling his necklace and amulets. He slapped his spark-tipped tail onto the sand, startling Rakt and sparking the fight in the little eye.
"Come to me, let us interrupt this heat with a spar!" Ashamin called to the empty blue sky, the odd silence of the distant waves.
AP: x/3, 0/1 WC: 388/800 Setting: An unseasonably warm noon (not too warm if you're used to it, which Ashamin isn't) across from the Dragon's Throat Island. Clear skies, calm seas. Notes: Open to all! I am happy to offer teaching notes if you would like, just say so in the bottom of your post. Please feel free to attack first, just post the stats for our characters if you do so.
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
I couldn't necessarily say I was out of my element as mismatched limbs carried me further south and away from the Basin once again. This trip had been made more times than I, or Edison, could count in search of my dear twin brother or any family members for that matter. Today was no different, ignoring the annoying screeching of the avian in my head, I was making the journey south for the latter part of the winter once again in search of the blood stained black stallion that I had shared a womb with.
"Why didn't we stay home." The avian's voice echoed through my mind like nails being dragged ever so slowly down a chalk board in a silent room. Silence was all he got in return as I continued moving through the slowly melting snow, noticing how much slicker and then drier the ground got as I moved south. As much as I loved the frozen winters in the Basin it was nice every now and then to get a break from the frigid bitch's grasp and wander into the loving embrace of the sun's rays. With all of the tittering of birds in the branches that hung heavy with slowly budding leaves over head it was easy to brush off the annoyed bird of prey that rested between my shoulder blades, his talons occasionally digging into my scarred flesh as my movements pushed him ever so slightly off balance.
Blood hued flesh shuddered as a talon dug mercilessly into muscle, sending the kite into the sky his wings snapping out unceremoniously just above my ink tipped ears. Mental images of the ocean flashed through our mental bond, the pictures pressing themselves like a lover against the glass wall I had up against his emotions currently, the land around me gave way to the soft and well traveled sand nearly causing me to stumble. The salty air marked the end of my journey, my darker twin still missing as I had officially wandered through nearly all of Helovia in search of him, hoping that our half brother Mesec was a liar and that he hadn't left me. A defeated sigh slid through my inky lips as I moved to turn back to the Basin where I would wait out the rest of Frostfall before deciding on if I would remain there or start out on my own journey. But before I could take a step a voice was carried over the ocean's breeze, "Come to me. Let us interrupt this heat with a spar!"
Edison ruffled with excitement over the thought of getting to tear into someone's flesh as he didn't truly want to cause me any pain, no matter how annoyed he was with me for dragging him all over hell and creation. I heard his wings smack against the air as he spun in the direction of the call, being sure to send me mental images along the way until a black and white unicorn with two antlered companions was pressed up against the glass paneling, the trio looking as if they had never been in such warm temperatures before. A sick smile stretched my lips as I took off in an easy lope towards my competitor, there was so much steam to blow and I couldn't wait to relieve some of my stress in the form of causing scars upon his pretty painted coat. Delicate nostrils flared with excitement and exertion as I drew closer to the trio, my pace slowing as I stopped at a safe distance from them. Or at least a safe enough distance according to Edison. Dark tipped ears flicked forward in a show of excitement as moon eyes settled forward and my vocal chords jumped into action. "You called?"
A smirk split my features as I leapt forward into action, Edison screeching directions in my head, but I blocked him out as adrenaline and endorphins rushed into my system, proving my inexperience in the battlefield. Well muscled neck arched as my chin tucked gracefully into my chest, leaving my ivory spiraled horn exposed in hopes of penetrating either member of the trio. Damage was damage no matter who it was dealt towards. Right?
"talk talk"
I'm still a dick. I'm addicted to you
credits @Ashamin
AP: 1/3, 0/1
WC: 708/800
Setting: An unseasonably warm noon across from the Dragon's Throat Island. Clear skies, calm seas.
Notes: I would love teaching points! Roux answers Ashamin's call by lunging towards him, excitement taking over as he ignores Edison's tips and just hopes that his horn strikes any member of the trio. He's super inexperienced, as am I. So this will be a shit show and a half.
Now waking to the sun
I calculate what I had done
Like jumping from the bow
Just to prove that I knew how
</style>
The haruspex let out a heady snort in response to his companions' warnings of company. The stallion who arrived was younger but larger--not someone Ashamin felt like taking seriously then.
Call it a hot streak, call it hubris, or call it the need to drown out his sins, but Ashamin was beginning to think he couldn't lose. When the other stallion answered his call Ashamin didn't deign to reply with more than a nod. Names might come later with the licking of wounds, or maybe he would just fade into the moist heat of the shore and disappear. Maybe Ashamin could live life as a passing monster.
Skilled or not, Ashamin was unprepared. He didn't expect such wild energy to come from the stranger; it was almost eerily similar to his own. He remembered how he had fought with Torleik, ignoring all signs that the braided beast was stronger than Ashamin had been. The same recklessness was painted in every straining muscle, every heaving breath of this challenger's approach. The haruspex had ample time to move but took too much of it analyzing his opponents build--noting the bay's slower speed. Ashamin knew his own strengths and being able to move quickly, turn well, and last long were all things he suspected he had on this stag.
So why wouldn't he move?
Was it because his companions both did, fleeing in opposite directions (Rakt to the left, Lochan to the right) and tricking Ashamin into thinking that he was running with them? Or was it subconscious want for hurt, memory of how deeply he'd been scarred when he'd stood still and taken Torleik's gouging attack? As if remembering, his hindquarters and the gold scars left from the Bloodskald shivered with fresh aches.
He hadn't moved then, why wouldn't he move now? Ashamin watched with cold eyes as his enemy's lighter ones drew closer. They looked so empty, so void of senses, but the haruspex was not mentally quick enough then to figure out why. That was a realization that would come later. After all, how was he supposed to suspect that a blind stallion would charge at him with such boldness?
The sound of wings fluttering overhead caught the haruspex off-guard and he looked up to see the bird. Lochan cast a dark image in his mind, the shadow of the oncoming attacker, and the confusing shock of both that and the sudden appearance of the bird caused the haruspex to rear and turn, facing partially away from the stranger and exposing the right side of his hindquarters. When the injury came, sliding through the flesh of his croup like an unclean knife, Ashamin didn't cry out.
This was the sort of pain that he deserved. As the skin tore and the blood burst, sending out with it harmless sparks that hovered around the new wound and tried to heal, it was his two companions that shivered and shook.
Was he channeling his pain through the bond, using them as shields? Maybe, but who knew if that was even possible. Maybe Lochan and Rakt felt the pain on a deeper level because Ashamin refused to. Could it be possible that the Clovenheart could disassociate from hurt so intensely that his body was blocked off from it, frozen in a state of shock? True, his hind quaked and his back legs threatened to buckle even as his forelegs landed and he tried to pull himself away from the dagger in his flesh--to twist his body further to the right and put himself parallel to the enemy, facing the opposite direction--but did he really feel it?
Did he really know what it was to be innocently hurt, or was every injury tainted by the memory of one that had come before it? This was bad, but couldn't he compare it to almost dying in the secret grove in the wake of his battle with Torleik, or the claw of the Bear God hooked just beside his jugular? There were times that the Clovenheart had almost seen the light of his life fade, but this wasn't even a flicker.
A dripping, ghoulish splatter of red to be sure, but in the end it was only a blip.
His teeth smashed down, narrowly missing his silent tongue, and when he turned to look at the upstart that had wounded him his eyes were wicked. The fang on his necklace glowed for a moment before expanding, and the mask that he summoned covered his features like a hideous scar. He sent out his magic like an arrow from a bow, devastatingly aimed and with vicious intent, and hoped to speed the boy's heart til it burst.
Sweat and blood covered his hide, anger painted his features. What a fool that had run blindly into this fight.
AP: 1/3, 0/1 WC: 800/800 Note: Apologies for my lateness! Finals and moving hit me hard. I'll be much quicker from here on out.
Teaching notes
So there isn't quite so much battle wise to talk about because this is the very first one, but here goes!
+ Companion Relationship: Not only did I get a sense of them individually, but I got one of them together. They had good back and forth and good physical interaction as well. Talking about the sensation of Edison's claws is smart, because a blind horse isn't going to be seeing his companion and he'll be using other senses. + Poesy: Your writing was beautiful! Seriously, downright poetic. I love the image of the glass paneling and some of the descriptions that you have. - Clarity: On the above note, make sure the grammar in your sentences is as clear as possible at all times. There were a couple sentences where another word or comma might have helped to clarify what you meant, and you had the room. + Environment: You did a good job of not only describing the environment, but in ways that makes sense for a blind horse (by scent in particular, with the salty air.) - Attack Positioning: This is a perfectly fine attack, but just be sure that wording is as clear as possible. The real problem is position. I have no clue where Roux is in relation to Ashamin so it's hard for me to figure out where I should take the attack, since I can't make it up without forcing Roux into a position you might not want him/have meant for him to be in. I just know that Roux is headed for one of my three but it could really be any of them, and from any direction. Roux located them through Edison so he should be able to know where he is relatively, and that's something you should communicate.
Suggestions for next time:
Wordcount: While of course you don't have to hit 800, it's always good to make use of what you have. Since there were a few places with clarity issues, I would suggest next post reading things over if you're under wordcount and seeing what can be made clearer. If you think it's an emotionally dry post, throw in that, lacking environment interaction, needing more description of positioning, etc., consider adding in more to help.
Senses: I would think about stressing how Roux takes in the surroundings, other than via his companion's eyesight. He wasn't born with Edison so he hasn't always been able to rely on him, so what are other ways he might be thinking about the world and experiencing it? This is good to know too because if you were fighting Knox, say, he could blind Edison too and then you'd need to be writing without that crutch.
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
Joy rushed through my veins. So much joy it was nearly overwhelming. Maybe elation was a better word for the chemical imbalance that was wrecking havoc through my bloodstream as muscles screamed with under use while I crashed through the sand, slipping slightly as the ground beneath me gave way. A tinge of pain tweaked through my left forelimb as it took all my weight and bore down against the unsteady terra, but the pain was easily masked by the excitement that seemed to be bouncing off of every single nerve ending in my lean frame.
I wouldn't have noticed that the antlered creatures had ran off, as I lunged forward at the trio, if it weren't for their heavy breathing a couple of yards off down the beach in opposite directions. Dark tipped ears flicked around, confused by the sudden movement of the deer, but from what I could tell the black and white steed hadn't yet moved. "Odd." I half thought to myself, half allowed the thought to trickle down the mental bond that connected the bird of prey and myself. Blocking out the feeling of wind through feathers for a moment I focused instead on everything that was going on around me, inky lips parting slightly as the salty air crashed into my pharynx as over exerted lungs cried out for the oxygen that kept my blood pumping.
Moments later the world came to a crashing halt. Our bodies collided, screeching pain coursed through my cranium as my precious horn slid through the painted steed's flesh like a knife through butter on a warm day.The sharp pain turned into a dull throb as I realized that I wasn't going to lose my horn inside of this stranger today, it was still firmly attached to my skull as it had always been. A smell filled my nostrils, dancing delicately along the cilia that clung to the scent like a long lost lover. Blood. I shivered at the thought of the blood that would be dripping unceremoniously from his heavily contrasting pelt, staining the ground beneath him a stunning crimson. And it would be all my fault. This time wasn't like the small colt that I had murdered in the Heart Caves, this was no accident, this was much more enjoyable. A sick smile crept across my features, pulling the corners of my lips towards my lifeless eyes as the black and white's blood dripped from my spiraled horn to my ruddy features, leaving a darker, slick trail down my face.
A metallic whirring pulled me back to reality, back to the hot sand on which we were sparring, ears flicked trying to figure out what it was that was creating that sound. I reached out to Edison for help, only to find him busy with swooping down upon one of the horned creatures (Rakt) his talons extended as he aimed to take one of the stag's eyes as a new toy for his treasure chest. Before I could even think about how else I could manage to discover the origin of this whirring, a strange sensation overcame my blood red frame. It almost felt like my heart was going to leap out of my chest at any moment. The state of extreme tachycardia sending my nervous system into a panic as the blood was being pumped too fast to get proper oxygen to the rest of my systems. I gasped for air, hungry for the oxygen in the salty air, as my knees grew weak beneath my lean frame.
I wasn't sure if the screech came from between my own lips or if it came from the red kite as the effects of the magic reached him through our bond. His retreat from the stag abruptly slowed as his lungs screamed as mine did for sweet oxygen. My limbs shook, mercilessly, for what seemed like hours. But in reality was only a few seconds before things slowly turned back to normal, once my mental status was less altered I turned all of my attention on the bleeding stallion that I couldn't see as the effects of tachycardia still affected the avian that was now perched shakily on the closest tree he could have found. His sharp beak cracked open as his little lungs worked in over time to correct the wrong doing in his body.
I danced away from the black and white, realizing just now how much my hock was throbbing from my gallop through the sand. But that wasn't my focus, instead it was the scent of the blood that was spilling from the hole in his croup, adding another color to the pallet of his coat. The taste of blood filled my mouth, this time, it was my own as I had clamped down on my tongue in my near cardiac arrest. Focusing on the liquid I let my own magic go. I grimaced in pain, still dizzy from the effects of the opponents magic, as I leapt forward once again in the direction that I could still smell fresh blood spilling from a wound. Cracked ivories bared in hopes to spill more blood.
"talk talk"
I'm still a dick. I'm addicted to you
credits
@Ashamin
Thank you so much for all the feedback <3 e.e this was 927 words before I edited it -cries in mourning for dead words- accepts the penalty for going over on words I couldn't take anymore out!
AP: 2/3, 0/1
WC: 868/800
Setting: An unseasonably warm noon across from the Dragon's Throat Island. Clear skies, calm seas.
Notes: Strains his left fore as he galloped through the sand at Ashamin, has a throbbing headache from his collision. Goes into a state of tachycardia and mild hypoperfusion with Ashamin's magic, this also affects Edison as he is attacked Rakt. This affects Roux's balance and mental state as well, these effects remain in a much milder form when the magic wears off, he also bit his tongue pretty severely in the fit. Blood is staining his teeth as he unleashes his own magic on Ashamin and lunges forward in an attempt to bite him blindly. Ashamin's lack of movement or sound is throwing his directions off a bit.
Now waking to the sun
I calculate what I had done
Like jumping from the bow
Just to prove that I knew how
</style>
Later, when they were all resting in the shade of some unfamiliar copse of trees, Ashamin's first companion would call it trauma. Lochan would paint the word for his bonded in deep and impenetrable blacks while Rakt rested with his eyes half open. The younger companion's snort would be followed by a shake, a subtle shift in body language to signal disagreement. Ashamin would pace and contemplate new loneliness--the concept of abandonment. He too would shake his head, turn from the idea. Trauma meant damage. How could he, by then newly wedded to no one but himself, be damaged? What was he to do if he had to enter his new life that way?
In the moment, in the heat of the battle and raging sun, Ashamin took damage to be strength. The bird--now obviously revealed to be a companion as he staged an attack--was not quick enough to catch Ashamin's red cerndyr companion. Rakt leapt back and shook his antlered crown defensively, continuing to back away even when the bird headed instead for a nearby tree. Ashamin's opponent moved away from him too, gasping horribly as his heart convulsed; the Clovenheart watched with grim satisfaction. He ground his against each other as he staggered from the other buck's pearly horn. His head dropped down swiftly to tuck between his forelegs, but he still felt the burn of success. Blood ran freely from the gash along Ashamin's croup, following the path of his right hip and warming the inside of his leg on the same side. The pain would last and the wound would slow him down, but he wasn't going to give up.
The painted stag flashed his gaze and then his head up as he heard his opponent's hooves kicking up the sand again. This time he had enough sense to dodge and fight back with his body, slowed as it might already be by injury. The paint stallion took a few more forceful steps forward, hoping to put himself on the enemy's left side and facing away, just as he'd tried to do before. One of the amulets around his neck was tugged back behind him and slowed his movement forward, however. The set gem was quick enough to catch something that Ashamin had missed: magic. It glowed and hummed something hollow before thudding dully against his chest, leaving a cold spot of shadow that the light of his marking could not pass through. Whatever power the bay stallion held was now something the Clovenheart possessed, if only for a time.
But he would have to discover its effects later, for once the amulet settled back against his chest Ashamin pressed onward. His hooves sank in the sand and his wounded croup sagged so that his back sloped downwards, and his hind legs were forced to bunch. The lowering of his back half did him some good, though, and positioned him beneath the snapping teeth of the mad beast that had charged him. Given half a second to reflect, Ashamin might have paid closer attention to his opponent's erratic movements and total lack of experience. Maybe, just maybe, he would have attributed it to some cause or weakness rather than attacking without the slightest shred of empathy.
The Clovenheart was not, however, given any time at all. And so when he struck it was without mercy or shame but only with the most of his power and the height of his cruelty. With the mask still surrounding his features he twisted his neck back and to the left, his jaws parting and snapping hopefully somewhere between the young bay's withers and crest. Behind him, Lochan and Rakt operated together; the former darted for the tree where the bird had flown to rest and cast dark mists towards it, hoping to confuse the already compromised red kite so that he might fall from the tree that Rakt butted fiercely with his horns. Eight sharp hooves awaited the bird should it be grounded, ready to stomp and trample. In any other context they might have been bullies, but this was a fight and the kite had made the mistake of trying to harm the younger cerndyr; for that, he would be targeted.
What did "spar" mean to the Clovenheart anymore? He was under the heat of a sun that nearly belonged to the Dragon's Throat and far from his home--far from those who might have urged him to exercise restraint. Here--in the unfamiliar wild where the sand was caught in his hooves and Birdsong sweat mixed readily with blood, where his companions' thick coats stuck out like thorned paws--Ashamin was not operating within the same set of rules he'd been previously assigned.
Out here, Ashamin was anonymous. He was just another passing stranger with a very nasty bite.
AP: 2/3, 0/1 WC: 800/800 Note: Ashamin captures Roux's magic in his moon amulet, but does not use it. Ashamin's mask grants the wearer the jaw strength of a bear (1200 psi) with the bite's increased strength lasting for 5 seconds (see profile for more details.)
Teaching notes -Wordcount: Whoops! Opposite advice to give you here. As hard as it can be it's IMPERATIVE that you're 800 or under. Take a look at the rubric. You lose 10 hp just for going over the wordcount once! Penalties won't be applied until the end, but if the fight were to end now you'd have over the 20 HP gap and lose right away. I know how hard it is to cut things down but a penalty as big as 10 HP can decide a fight. +Senses: Great job! I really felt Roux sensing his surroundings more in this post, particularly with touch and smell. Overall the post had a much more "real" feel because of how you described the sensations. +Kickback: Yes! This is my favorite thing to see. When Roux feels his head hurt when he collides with Ashamin that is both a creative way to take some damage and a realistic way to play out the fight, since the attacker does feel the impact of any hit. +Item Descriptions: I'm thinking that the metallic whirring was Ashamin's mask--if it was not, then my critique changes to "what was that?" Anyway, be sure that when you describe an item you are describing it accurately. Metallic whirring isn't really a sound I'd use to describe the mask, since it's really all just crystal, bone, and enchantment. -Damage: I think most of the damage you took made sense, but I would caution you to not take more than you need to. A 5 is high but it isn't a 6, so you probably could have been fine without the pain in Roux's hock (which sort of came from nowhere anyhow--and which hock? Be specific.) Remember that the pain on Roux's brow is included, as well as the pain felt by Edison. You did a good job of looking into the actual effects of tachycardia and you're right, it is serious, but that combined with your other things felt more like a 6 damage than a 5 in some places.
Suggestions for next time:
Editing for wordcount: When trying to cut down, be looking at places where you have more than one or unnecessary adjectives or adverbs, repeated words or emotions, or (when you have to cut content) reflective passages that aren't essential to the present moment. There are also some words like "that" which are often not essential to a sentence's tracking. What works for me is looking at how I phrase certain things and seeing where I can shorten how they are said by still keeping the meaning. (IE: "With his heart beating as fast as his hooves, he ran towards her" becomes "He ran towards her, heart and hooves pounding."
Research: It's usually a good idea to give an opponent's profile a good read through in terms of magic, items, appearance, and stats (aka the things your character can feel/see.) I have detailed descriptions of Ashamin's items on his profile, among other things, which could help in the future when wanting to describe certain things. And when in doubt, feel free to ask the player questions about their character or attack.
Positioning: Try and throw in some more lefts and rights, in front ofs and behinds; it will help you and your opponent figure out who is where (which is essential) throughout the fight.
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
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