the Rift


SWP :: And so it begins

Thranduil the Laurelin Posts: 598
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 11 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 hh :: Eight HP: 77 | Buff: ENDURE
Haldir :: Common Cerndyr :: Dark Mist Hawk
#21
the
Laurelin

You’d think they would get used to magic. That their senses would dull to it surprises. And yet, as the voice booms across the lands, he still starts at it. The gold jerking up from his lengthy jog and shaking his crowned head. Haldir takes it more in stride, and only freezes. To the news that travels on the wind the gold takes a little better. It takes him a moment to remember the strange voice, and the oath to which it calls upon. It seemed ages ago since the day in the south when the strangest of creatures called Helovia together. Pulling himself back together, the gold follows the pied piper. Might as well see what it was the creature actually wanted.

He, and the dark stag gathered with the others. The gold stood on the outskirts. Keeping to himself for the most part, but also keeping an eye on the crowd for anything rosen. And when his attention turned to the curious creature, one hark still strayed to the crowd.

To the task at hand, the gold joins in those who stare back skeptically. Bones? There were many things to be done with bones…why not leave them where they lie? Let the dead stay where they lay and rest? Still, as before, the gold was ever willing to lend a hand, when something was promised in return. Besides, he had his own needs to meet and this small gathering was bring the best of Helovia together. His earth eyes turn greedy as he looks out over the crown, taking his pick. In the crowd he saw a dun mare, but her sass gives her away. His grin rises as he heads out to begin the work, being sure to pass close by the lass, and taking in a deep breath as he does. Haldir, trotted alongside, still looking unsure at the creature calling them to work.

OOC:: @Shida for mentions
Identities:: Shida
"Talk."
thranduil
and
Haldir
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Feel free to use any force/magic on Thranduil, short of killing him.
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Isi Posts: 17
Outcast
Mare :: Equine :: 15 hh :: 4 Buff: NOVICE
Adella :: Common Brown Dragon :: Fire Breath Avis
#22
i never meant to wither

i wanted to be tall
Where we were going, I didn't much care. Adella trailed overhead of me, keeping pace with my slower strides as I walked. For as loud as the voice was that sprung up without welcome one might think I'd startle a little more; but really magic was part of these lands and as often as Adella intruded my thoughts (she grinned cheekily at this) I suppose I was rather used to it. I didn't know who called out to us, but the vigor and tone of voice said we would be better to not ignore it.

Rather happily we followed along the same path as all the others, the voice continuing to share his story. I wasn't too aware of the recent events that happened, but knowing that someone wanted to make a difference in all the aftermath was heart warming. My dragon and I were both curious to see the face behind the words though, so as we neared the gathering I craned my neck to try and spot the one. Adella had much better view than I, but she quickly distracted herself with watching the other dragons (none of which she'd ever seen before).

I didn't have many--or rather, any--friends, and the only one I knew did not seem to be in attendance yet; Ilios had to be around somewhere though, so I thought maybe we could help clear out some of the land together if or when he arrived.

.
Isi + Adella
/ image


mentions @Ilios <3
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Alysanne the Devoted Posts: 641
World's Edge Queen atk: 7 | def: 10 | dam: 3.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16 hh :: 11 years HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
Hemlock :: Flammulated Owl :: Heal & Cypress :: Great Horned Owl :: None Sarah
#23



Kisamoa’s call stirred Alysanne and she did not hesitate to respond - curious and cautious all at once but curiosity winning out in the end. They needed all the information they could get about the strange visitor from the ocean, see if he really was as peaceful as he said he was.

There was already a small crowd gathering when she arrived and Alysanne moved to stand near Lena, smile softly at her fellow healer and friend, before giving her attention to Kisamoa as began to address them. It had been a very long time since Alysanne had thought about the marshes - she tried to ignore them just as she tried to ignore everything that had happened when the wraiths had taken over Helovia, when they had turned friendly faces into sick and twisted monsters.

He explained that there were things to clear up and bones to gather and she frowned at that - wondering what possible use the bones could have. Another bridge? But the marshes were already connected to Helovia. Thankfully, he mentioned plants and mold and other things that she could focus on besides the bones. She would much rather clear a few trees and sweep up the place.

She looked over to Lena, gesturing with her head in a silent question if her dear friend would follow her as she went to find one of the places that needed tending.

Alysanne
I lit a flame in my heart to guide you home.
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mentions @Lena <3
please tag Alysanne in replies
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non-life threatening physical force is allowed at all times, but preference is to be checked with beforehand for any injuries

Tilney Posts: 288
World's Edge Moon Doctor atk: 4 | def: 9 | dam: 6
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2hh :: VI HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Peatree :: Lesser Fruit Bat :: None Neverrmind
#24

Wander or leave
Turn into winter lights


Word of Kisamoas reappearance in the west gave Tilney great excitment yet great anxiety. The trouble with the Dead Lands was so close to home it seemed; should something go wrong, would his western abode be the first to suffer?
Upon approaching the crowd Tilney noted the vast majority of those he recognised and then the many he did not - how far had they come, he wondered.
It was hard to miss the now-insepperable pair that were his younger sister and oldest brother. It would always puzzle him why Aelfwine preffered to live out of the bounds of a herd - did she not seek protection of any kind? Security? A community? These were all a number of things that held Tilney's life intact.

The flaxen physician strode in and, with a smirk, squeezed in the gap between his brother and sister. "You've met your idol?" Tilney uttered to Bartholomew, another smirk escaping his nostrils and turning his gaze to find the selcouth creature as it spoke.
Just as he had predicted, the Dead Lands needed to be cleared. This was a task Tilney could only assume would be fraught with danger - he felt a deep need to consult Arah or the others in connection to mother moon on how they might approach the situation. What if the plauge still lived on in those lands barred behind these clumps of fallen trees? Could they possibly unleash it?
And disturbing bones from where they rested?! What did this Kisamoa plan to do with them? If it was anything besides some kind of proper burial, Tilney would feel the need to put his hoof down.
He would assist, he could not stand aside while others worked, however the bones and removing them agitated him greatly.
"Will you burry these bones properly?" Tilney spoke up, brows knitted ever so slightly. He couldn't imagine any other reason one would want bones, or rather, any other good reason.



x

Wander or Leave
turn in to winter lights
☀︎


Toulouse Posts: 146
Aurora Basin Impersonator atk: 8.0 | def: 11.0 | dam: 4.0
Gelding :: Equine :: 17hh :: Six HP: 74 | Buff: ENDURE
Boomslang :: Green Ratsnake :: Paralyze Neverrmind
#25


Ahh, this Kisamoa fellow had finally arrived at a time convinient for the serpent. Slithering form his outpost, his home upon the hill in the far reaches of the Worlds Edge the gelding approached the crowd with great curiosity for the atrrotious being they had all come to see. He could help but allow a giggle to escape his maw as he took his place on the outskirks of the glade, not far from a similarly coloured man. Toulouse recognised this one from his scrap with Raeden - the man had holldered a few words at them, words that he was unsure he had decided to listen to or not.
Listening to Kisamoas instructions seemed easy enough, but just the thought of carrying out such tasks caused his own bones to ache. Work? Like pesants? This Earth God was a fool, couldn't he just swish his tail and clean it up himself? He was a god. And where is Kisamoas role in all this? Hokey Pokey on the bones Toulouse presumed, a bit of black magic and the end of the world or something (or maybe not). The fish's secrecy was so unwarranted for such a cute task as a community beach clean up it caused the snake to groan very loudly - something was fishy about this fish.

Pharoh, Brother, Thief


hearttosoul
| notes and tags |


I AM THE KEY TO THE LOCK IN YOUR HOUSE—
DO NOT CRY OUT OR HIT THE ALARM
YOU KNOW WE'RE FRIEND TIL WE DIE—

EITHER WAY YOU TURN, I'LL BE THERE
OPEN UP YOUR SKULL, I'LL BE THERE
CLIMBING UP THE WALLS

SO LOCK THE KIDS UP SAFE TONIGHT
CLOSE THE EYES IN THE CUPBOARD

Patrick Posts: 31
Dragon's Throat Colt
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.0 (wfg) :: 6 months
LovellaTorendo
#26
P
A
T
R
I
C
K

It is rare indeed for the buttery buckskin boy to be seen any further North, East or West than the Thistle Meadow.  Yet, the early reaches of birdsong find him creeping quietly through the thick trees surrounding the beautiful pavilion known as the Ancient Rotunda. This is a place he has not been before but today he moves in a trance like manner, nowhere near as engrossed in his surroundings as he has been known to be in the past.  He has been summoned you see and having experienced such a thing only once in his short life he has not yet built up any tolerance for of resistance to this phenomenon. So, on the occasions when he hears such summons from the more powerful beings of his native land they tend to overcome him completely.  He very nearly tried to swim from the Throat to the mainland rather than await the coming of a key holder to open the gates for him.  Luckily a crowd of adults showed up just as he was preparing to make the attempt and so he was able to sneak out in the wake of the group.  Many of them are probably among the gathering he is now approaching but he is too entranced to take such notice.

He comes to linger at the back of the pack and all he can see above the heads of the much larger adults who create an unintentional wall before him is the upper half of the sea-being's looming form.  Some among the crowd address the over-sized fish-thing by a name, a name that Patrick will not remember an hour from now.  He simply listens to the crooning, watery voice as the instructions are given out.  Cleaning and fixing does not strike the lad as any sort of fun but he gives a huffy little grumble of acceptance all the same.  Then his ears stand up in sudden attention as the word "collect" reaches them.  His eyes darken in confusion just as quickly however.

"Bones? Bones not pretty."

Why would anyone wish to collect and horde things that are not pretty?  He mutters this small objection about the aesthetics of the thing to himself with little care to who might be overhearing.  After a moment or two of serious thought he rolls his small shoulders in a shrug-like gesture as if to say "adults, will be adults" and turns to go about the task despite any distaste he may harbor for it.

"Pat gather."

These two words are spoken with authority to any who might think to try stopping him as he wanders off towards the blackened, dreary, southern end of the ancient wood.

Image Credit || TABLE BY SEVIN

Byron Posts: 14
Outcast
Colt :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: Three Seasons [Frostfall]
Nova
#27
[Image: for_arahvir_by_franset_dalzb5m_by_arahvi...an974j.png]


"Ma we're gonna be late again." His voice had taken on a sing song note as he'd trotted ahead of his chimeric mother, the springy stides easily allowed him to move just that much faster than his war bred mother. If it wasn't for the jingled sound of gold, ivory and precious gemstones which clinked and slapped against his chest, he was pretty sure she wouldn't have heard him either. The young colt is excited, and why shouldn't he be? Kisamoa is back, and that means one thing — adventure.

What tales could he tell Jude this time? He'd been unwell for so long, flu the doctors had said. While his twin had always kept a firm grin on his face, nudged and snuggled with him, he was worried. It pulled at his heart strings and made his chest tighten in an uncomfortable knot. Their ma always said he'd get better, she'd forsaken enough of her duties to be by his side and when Byron ran off like now, made sure he was watched so her more adventurous child didn't get eaten. Or something like that, he expected she meant eaten when she'd snort and say 'trouble.'

There's a crowd as he arrived, odd coloured eyes flicked back and forth over each one gathered. It was pointless though, too many bodies, too many tall bodies. He huffed, when would he grow that big so he could look down on everyone? He hoped soon, he'd gotten rather tired of being short. After a moment, he decided that he'd wiggle his way through as much as he could until he could see Kisamoa.

"We can do that." He responded brightly when the Sea God had explained what needed to be done, ringed ears pressed forward as a grin broke out on his face.




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please only tag Byron in opening posts!

Nephele Posts: 82
Dragon's Throat Guardian atk: 4.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 7.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16.3 :: 7 HP: 64.0 | Buff: NOVICE
Atreus :: Lammergeier :: None Nova
#28
can you hear the sabers rattling

Her children will be the death of her. Or at least give her more grey hairs than she'd like for her age. She'd been roused by the sound of his necklace as it patted against his chest, an ear half-turned toward him as he explained he'd heard Kisamoa and wanted to go investigate. That'd gotten her up sharpish, after she'd made sure a mare would be on hand to care for Jude, she'd followed her more adventurous son with an exasperated look on her face.

If he'd sit still for one night, she just might keel over in shock. Just for one night, her comment aimed toward Astreus, I'd never ask for anything again. The vulture uttered a shrill click, as close to a laugh he'd ever get.


Blue and gold eyes landed on the form of Kisamoa, and found herself caught between that usual sense of curiousity and unease. Her mind still lingered on the rift battles, the one she'd fought in and then the ones she'd heard cruel tales of. It seemed though that this Sea entity wished to do some good, and restore a part of Helovia long left to fester. Nephele found honor within that, but still, that small part of her whispered that to what end did he want to restore it. No one simply did things like this without a motive.

After she'd struggled and slipped through the crowds, she stood next to her son, a wing extended over him to keep him close to her side. Her antlered head tilted in order to keep an eye on him and an eye on everyone else. Her bonded swooped in to land, his talons audibly clicked against her crown, careful to not disturb the intricate decoration strung between them.


Talk Talk Talk





damned if i didn't
demand that they sing
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“She was beautiful, but she was beautiful in the way a forest fire was beautiful: something to be admired from a distance, not up close.” 

― Terry Pratchett
Please tag Neph in all replies!
Force & violence permitted with the exception of maiming & death

Verro Posts: 25
Absent Abyss
Filly :: Pegasus :: 17 :: Three Seasons
Nova
#29

Verro had been on the mainland when she'd spotted two of her family, her mother and one of her younger brothers, moving off in the direction the call had come from. The white raven had waited patiently until they'd strode past before she'd taken off in the air after them, keeping a short distance back so she could better keep a look out.

Lilac orbs settled ahead of the moving unit, toward the gathered masses who'd already beaten them there. She found it strange, if she was honest, some of this land seemed so against the unusual and mystical — especially where divinity was concerned. As a youngster she'd nestled by the fires and listened to the herd members chatter amongst themselves, their shared stories doing a poor job to hide the unease and dislike which poured from their lips.

She on the other hand, was fascinated. Verro flew in close and with a gentleness and grace, landed on the unoccupied antler on her mothers countenance. Her mother had jostled her with a shake of her head, annoyed at her sudden ascension to the rank of 'bird perch' while the vulture to her left squawked until the large white raven parted her beak and uttered "Hello, mai." She wouldn't stay for long, something she and her mother knew too well. Her blessed daughter would hear Kisamoa out and begin whatever task required of them, she wanted to see and know, and while her mother was begrudged by it, she wouldn't stop her eldest.


she slept with wolves without fear.
verro
lovelyskylark!
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force & aggression permitted against Verro at all times
with the exception of maiming and death

Tyrath Posts: 61
Outcast atk: 5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6
Stallion :: Tribrid :: 17.2 :: 2 [birdsong] HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Harcos :: Common Red Dragon :: Fire Breath Nova
#30
Oh, to be a dragon

The Prince's eyes easily picked out the fellow equines he knew that had all grouped around Kismoa. He's not as uneasy or unseated by his appearance as others are, mainly due to the fact he wants to understand and know what the Godlike creature is upto in the name of the Earth God, his Great-Uncle. He has divine blood in his veins, it's neither here nor there for him to condemn the works of the higher powers. The land is theirs, and it will be there's after everyone leaves for the great beyond, if they wish to restore it? then he's only too happy to help where he can.

Cloven hooves easily trekked through the melted sludge of frostfall's snow toward the particular face in the crowd he recognized, his father's. The only falter in his step is the one gained by watching him as he moved toward the Earth Giantess. The awkwardness which radiated off of his sire is enough to have him decide against saying hello for the time being, but he moved to stand near them anyway.


Silent and forced to keep his eyes fixated on the Sea God, though an ashen is flicked toward his sire and his aunt. Part of him wished he had a companion right now, something to share his thoughts and unease with. It's enough of a thought which caused the fire which burned within him to burn impossibly bright, the fires which plumed along his back gave a large burst of flames in tandem.



"Talk."
Tyrath

image | coding
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Arakh Posts: 77
Dragon's Throat Stallion atk: 5 | def: 8 | dam: 7
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 17'2hh :: 2 HP: 66.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Snow
#31


He glides into land on tilted wings, his bulky frame easily maneuvering between the trees until he lands on the frosty ground and dead leaves that make up the Rotunda. Arakh is suspicious of Kisamoa's intentions, but he thinks that the vast majority of Helovians can't possibly be that wrong about him - surely he's trustworthy, else somebody far cleverer than Arakh would have already questioned the situation.

The large colt slows his stride to a walk as he carefully, painstakingly folds his wings against his body. There's a large crowd already gathered and out of instinct, the bull-horned boy whickers for Esinakh, just in case she's already here amidst the throng. He ambles forwards until he's lost in the depths of the crowd, ears pointed firmly forwards as he listens to whatever Kisamoa has to say.

This time, the sea-creature has a task for them. They are asked to clear obstacles and collect bones, and the colt frowns slightly, shifting his weight from foot to foot. Kisamoa can converse with the Gods - surely he could just ask them to do this for him, instead of requiring the aid of dozens of Helovians? But nobody else seems to be questioning it, so nor does Arakh; he just stands still and silent, his light breathing the only sound coming from him. faligula.

ARAKH

[ ARAKH ]

Rikyn the Puppeteer Posts: 549
Aurora Basin Lord atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 4 HP: 70 | Buff: SWIFT
Duir :: Royal Cerndyr :: Earth Spirit Bunnie
#32
Not the five feet of water to your chin

The noise of a gathering in the Wood of Loss draws my attention, my forward path skirting the boundaries of the Rotunda’s forest halted, my buck pausing alongside me.

Thankfully, I don’t have to move closer to the heart of this place, and that which I avoid, hidden within. Seemingly enlarged by some sort of magic or another, the God’s voice (now familiar enough, having met him twice) booms through the silence. Though I have to listen well to catch his words, I catch them, even occasionally spotting the flutter of movement through the tree line, where they are seemingly gathered, not too far away.

A distraction would serve me well, I think, actively thwarting the hollow ache in my chest, where comfort had once resided, with active thought. That the distraction is one which will likely require my full focus is even better, and without waiting for others to cross my path, I head south and west, towards the realms around the fetid, black marsh.


but the inch above the tip of your nose.

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Beloved Posts: 121
Aurora Basin Soldier atk: 8.5 | def: 10 | dam: 3
Mare :: Unicorn :: 14.3 :: Appears 6 HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
Orphan :: Ragdoll Cat :: None Bunnie
#33
She arrives among the flock and fold, a serpent, easing her way to a suitable location. She knows some, though many more are strangers; it is among the latter she lingers, avoiding the seraphic songstress from the mountain, and giving her General only a stare of notice, friendly, by her standards.

Like magnets, her eyes behold the God of the Sea, her first vision of his might, and peculiarities. He is not handsome, like the Gods of Isilme, more like the elder creature rotting away in his palace of treasures, and trinkets, but in between. Not handsome, not luridly grotesque, but uneasy to look upon, his wet, seaweed mane glistening, and ever smiling face split into a most perfect crescent.

She mirrors him, her own Cheshire grin blooming as her gaze looks upon him, taking in his words. It’s time? What time? Now? And lands, of where, of what?

That black realm, steeped in beauty? Why would they seek to salvage such a realm from salvation? Regardless, an inclination meets the demon, that she might do as this one asks, for no reason other than he is powerful. Who else but those of power might gather so many to their call, their beckoning? That others seem to know him, looking upon him with awe, and wonder, strikes her as further proof of his prowess.

So, when the others move out, away, Beloved follows, seeking her own bones to reclaim, and boughs to shatter.



Tag Beloved, please!

Feel free to attack her with physical or magical violence at your own risk. ;D

Dragomir Posts: 275
World's Edge Glazier atk: 6 | def: 9 | dam: 5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17" :: 7 HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Bunnie
#34
Gathering was a natural part of Dragomir’s day to day life, the tasks usually easily completed back in the Falls, where the resources were plentiful as rain in the spring. It kept his mind busy, away from dwelling too much on the loss of his mother in the fall, and how Ranjiri’s child was not his own; that he had started to genuinely care for the little filly as if she were was a peculiarity that he’d rather not linger on for too long, unsure what, exactly, that meant.

It’s not a wonder that when he arrives on the gathered masses and the Sea God, then, that the stallion seeks out the familiar faces of his loved ones; not finding them, he moves into the group, eyes seeking out those he does know, among the strangers. The Mountain is here, which he does not find surprising, and a bow of his head is given her, should she notice his arrival. Alysanne is also smiled at, warmly, his promise to come and see her not forgotten, just lured away by time, and responsibility; sure she understood, however, he settles not far from her, watching and listening tactfully to all that goes on.

Glad to have his bags as their instructions conclude, the man sets off towards one of the designated realms, intent on mending the Earth, for the sake of his patron God.

Dragomir
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Any violence/magic is allowed to be used upon Dragomir at anytime, permitting it doesn't kill or seriously maim him without my permission <3

Maude Posts: 140
World's Edge Filly
Filly :: Unicorn :: 15.3 :: Yearling
Bunnie
#35

Maude wasn’t always a good girl, and maybe that was why the dark prince found himself beguiled by the bundle of smiles, and warmth, which followed after her father, as quietly as she might manage.

It gets a lot easier to be sneaky when voices start sounding from ahead, the little one’s heart thumping a little faster in her chest, now that wherever they are headed has at last appeared. Waiting for her father to move through the last of the trees separating her from the gathered Helovians, Maude gingerly steps through the shrubbery after him, hoping her small size plays to her advantage, and she remains unnoticed, for the time.

Then she notices… him. Her citrine eyes forget to stare at the handsome sight of her Uncle and father together, her Auntie pressed close as well, and do not linger on Kiada, or others she knows. They aren’t the only tree-marked stags in the clearing, her family, and the child’s eyes can’t look away from the third once they hone in on the strange tree among them.

Her brother, she assumes, already beginning to slink along the meeting’s outskirts, hoping her father stays enthralled enough with his siblings, and questions of the God (his voice drawing her nervous eyes when he speaks up), and that he doesn’t see her. Trotting towards the boy, she stops alongside him, casting her spring-time gaze across his face in a most-judgmental fashion, that surely the stranger won’t understand the meaning of, her own tree hidden inside her leg, not as easy to see as this child’s obviously reaching, outer branches.

What’s your name?” coldly (but curiously) inquires the usually vibrant maiden.

[ OOC: AT LASTTTTT ]



Art by neverrmind @ DA

@Byron
Hold onto this lullaby, even when the music's gone.

Lyanna the Windswept Posts: 313
World's Edge Queen atk: 7 | def: 11 | dam: 4.0
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.2 :: 5 years HP: 64 | Buff: NOVICE
Kyra
#36

let the winds erase me,

like the memory of a kiss

She hadn’t come when Kisamoa held his little games on the beach. Perhaps she should have, but she simply hadn’t. There’d been no real reason not to, and she had no excuses. And if asked, she wouldn’t say why anyway. Why hurt too much. Why reminded her that she didn’t really belong here. It was only ever going to be sort of her home, wasn’t it? It felt like a place where she could live and try and never completely belong. Simply because she didn’t completely belong. Unlike so many others who left by choice, she’d left because her life depending on it. She’d left because everything she loved was ripped from beneath her feet. Because she had no other choice.

Today though, she comes. Birdsong brings warmer weather and sunnier thoughts than Frostfall for her at least, and besides, now it seems like perhaps he really needs them. If nothing else, Lyanna is eager to throw herself into work, to drown her thoughts in whatever task Kiasmoa has for them. She joins the group, looking around for a familiar face, and it’s not long before she finds the pale Glazier.

Relief almost floods her. Glasgow. If ever there was a face she needed to see right about now, it would be the pale mare’s. At least with Glasgow, Lyanna could feel a little bit like she belonged. Like maybe she had a friend in this world. Yes, there was Aly too, but her mentor and friend was busy being Queen lately and Lyanna understood that. Besides, even Aly didn’t know as much of her history as Glasgow did.

She makes her way through the gathering until she’s next to @Glasgow, giving her friend a nod and extending her nose for a gentle touch, should the other allow it. “What do you think we’ll be doing?” she says warmly, though they don’t have to wait for an answer. Soon, Kisamoa is explaining the task, and she admits that it doesn’t come as a surprise. She turns to Glasgow again, figuring it might be more fun together. Her eyes open a bit in a question, her head cocked. “Want to go clean?”

lyanna

let these waters takes me

Image © Rhiaan

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Syrena Posts: 207
Dragon's Throat Forger
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16.1 hh :: 7 years
Thelxiepeia :: Royal Rougarou :: Water Kyra
#37
Syrena
let the water take me
She doesn’t hesitate when Kisamoa calls them. Unlike so many, she doesn’t care if he’s trustworthy or not. He’s the sea. Even made of trash, he’s the sea. And that, for Syrena, is enough. Besides, he gave her the seaweed that now lives mostly tucked away in a safe little corner of her home, because she has no way to carry it. A probably she should remedy, most likely, but hasn’t quite yet figured out how to. Or found the right things, as the case may be.

The string of seashells at least she managed to tie in her mane, the sound of the ocean coming with her wherever she goes. It flows gently from the shells, keeping her calm and almost peaceful. Thanks to the Earth Turtle for that one. Everyone in Helovia might be better off. She might manage to be slightly more personable in conversation, always half distracted by the waves that now crash in her ears. It would, if nothing else, help her patience. Less of a rush to run back to the real waves.

Today, Kisamoa is not at the sea though. He’s in the marshlands. A place she admittedly does not go much, and she should perhaps be ashamed. It is still water, still worth noting, but it is not the sea. She will always prefer it, in the end, even if she should care about all water. Like usual, she keeps to the edge of the group, waiting for her instructions and not making small talk. Isopia is there, which doesn’t surprise her, and Dragomir. She’s almost tempted to go ask him if he’s figured out the mystery of the metal, but that would require walking through other horses, and she’s not that curious.

Besides, Kisamoa is soon explaining their task, and she turns her attention entirely on him. It’s not a task that she’s exactly thrilled about. She’d rather go swimming, not wade through death and decay. But she will do it. She should, after all. She should care more about the ponds and the pools and the rivers than she does. So this is her chance. When he finishes speaking, she’s quick to head off, getting a head start away from the crowd that will soon be dispersing.

"words"

darya87 | larfsalot
on deviantart

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Magic use/power playing is okay, but check before serious injury/death
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Yael Posts: 186
World's Edge Seer atk: 7.5 | def: 11 | dam: 2.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14.2 :: 39 - appears 8 HP: 63.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Zani :: Serval :: None Astor
#38
A voice beckons her, beckons all across the land to answer his call. Curious, Yael takes to the sky and follows several others from the Edge to the source of the summons. She cannot yet distinguish the individual voices of the Gods, or even how many Gods there are (last she knew, there was a Moon Goddess and Kisamoa, a turtle, talking foxes, fire orbs, and a weird creepy thing), but there do seem to be a remarkable number of odd creatures who can talk.

If everyone else finds this to be within the realm of normal here, then Yael will go along with it. In fact, she's starting to wonder what Helovians would consider to be abnormal.

She lands in a flurry of gold, neither seeking someone she knows, nor hiding from anyone else. Simply listening. Their directions are clear, and it is a task Yael can easily get behind. Not only that, but this type of physical work would be good for mind and body. She may be small, but her wings were large and strong - perhaps she might actually be of use to someone. So with a nod of her head, she takes a few steps and launches herself into the air again, to go and find someone who might need some help. If nothing else, she figures she can ferry bones back and forth and save the stronger folks some effort. Or coordinate the children to do the same.

yael

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Ascended Helovian

Mauja the Frozen Light Posts: 1,392
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2 :: 14 HP: 79.5 | Buff: HUNTER
Irma :: Snowy Owl :: Terrorize & Diego :: Eurasian Eagle-Owl :: Rage Neo
#39
Art by Neverr ♥
but somewhere here in between the city walls of dyin' dreams
It was a call he had never heard before; a voice he did not know, calling out with the same tug and power as a God.

But it was none of their Gods; he knew their voices, the feeling of their summons, and it was not the only servant of a God he knew, either. The Earth Turtle's call was always merry and bright, full of joy and hope and the reckless urge to dance—this call was commanding, foreign, calling them friends but what did Mauja know of such things? Mauja was not friends with ethereal, powerful beings. He doubted any God would call him friend and the one he would be the most eager to defend wasn't even the one he had become a champion for.

Gritting his teeth he pulled himself from what he was doing, and set off in the direction of one of Helovia's corners he had not witnessed in a long, long time. Years had passed since the darkness had taken the Spectral Marsh. It had devoured land after land and driven them underground, had spread its disease and poison to be cleansed only by what passed for holy water, and when time had lessened its infection it had not let go of the Marshes. Behind a curtain of utter darkness and the chills of fear creeping down your spine, the lands had remained dead, passing out of memory.

Not anymore, it seemed, as Mauja gathered with the others before a creature he did not know, but which seemed to know them. He supposed that falling into glaciers had its downsides.

It spoke of clearing the dead lands, of piling up bones.

Mauja didn't like it. His ears remained forward and attentive, but a dread weight settled in his soul. Hadn't Snö and Aviya died for this kind of thing? Taking back sick lands? His blue eyes narrowed a fraction, tracing the outline of the stranger who had tasked them with this. Was he but a sick God in disguise? Was he here, to take his revenge on them, for what had been done to his brethren?

If he had ill intent, he would not tell them when asked. Or? Perhaps no one would believe him, and he could smile it all off. Someone—Tilney, maybe?—had already asked what the bones were for. Either he would answer, or he would not. Mauja smoothed out the features of his face. Heart heavy with doubt, he went to speak with someone who was, hopefully, wiser in the matters of Gods.
angels, they fell first, but I'm still here

Vastra Posts: 58
Dragon's Throat Filly
Filly :: Pegasus :: 16.3 wfg :: 1 year
Sarah
#40

She knew that voice! Upon recognition, the dun yearling wasted no time at all in hurrying as fast as her legs could carry her. Kisamoa had been the one to help her discover her magic, after all, and she would forever be thankful for that - eager to spend as much time with the magical sea creature as she possibly could.

Vastra’s excitement over seeing Kisamoa was momentarily dulled by the gathering crowd which included one of the loud colts from the dragonball game in the Throat. Though, thankfully, not the really loud one. Even though Kisamoa was already talking, she changed her direction and opted to not go stand at the front of the crowd, as much as she wished to, but rather spied the pale filly from the game as well. She was standing off from the thick crowd a bit, panting and looking completely out of breath, but she was being quiet and that was very appealing.

Besides, Castor had been nice to the girl and she had been on their team so there was a faint sense of comradery with her - enough for Vastra to at least go over and stand nearby. She didn’t offer much of a greeting - just a slight nod of her ginger head before her brown eyes focused in the direction of Kisamoa - listening with absolute rapture to every single word that he was saying.

There was a task that he wished for them to perform, which Vastra was quite willing to do - gathering bones? She could do that! Someone else asked what he wanted the bones for which saved her from speaking the question herself. While she kept one ear perked to see what his answer would be, her eyes travelled around - eager to start the scavenger hunt for bones and help out Helovia’s strange friend.

the embers of a fire still burning as they die
stay bright to keep us side by side


stands with @Kolr :D


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