"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.
Dusk had fallen thick at the Flats - the misty, drizzling rain of the evening ceasing but the moisture boxed in by the dense clouds that covered the sky. Once the sun was down, not a single star nor glimmer of moonlight appeared in the night sky.
Oh, wait, there was one light. A small series of them, twinkling in blues and purples and moving at a speed that was certainly alarming. This was no star! The lights spun in a circle around a metal dome-like structure that descended through the clouds and towards the shallow water that covered the flats.
Its descent slowed the closer that it got to the surface, before three long slender legs emerged from the dome and extended out into the water - holding the structure itself aloft about two metres from the surface. A doorway opened and a ramp resembling a tongue rolled out and splashed quietly into the shallow water. The structure itself was large - certainly large enough to house several draft-sized horses quite comfortably - so the contrast to what emerged from the doorway was quite comical.
There were four of them - each a different shade of blue to purple - and though they resembled horses in a way that made it look as though they were created by someone who just had an idea of what horses might look like, but weren’t really sure. They glowed softly in the thick darkness as they descended the ramp - hovering instead of walking. They were only about a foot tall each - each with three sets of eyes on their face and elongated ears that were fuzzy like the antennae of a moth.
Quietly they chatted to each other, their voices sounding like the chirping of birds and insects, as they made their way down to where their ramp met the surface of the water. Once there, they hesitated - glancing around and falling into silence as they took in this strange world.
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This is a COMMON SS COMPANION DROP
You have 72 hours to reply
Please clearly state what your character is looking for as well as include any prior refusals or extra VOTG rolls you would like to use off your prize list.
I might be little, but I am a curious one. Daddy has a hard time keeping me in the Edge, and today takes me on a field trip. A field trip that ends up somewhere really cool! By the time we arrive, dusk is falling. Daddy tells me we are going to stay here overnight and return home in the morning. We settle in, and I snuggle in close to him and the creature he calls Alanna.
Sleep does not come right away, and I am thankful for this. For once the sun goes down it seems the real fun begins. One light appears, and I slip away from my Daddy to go find out more about it. What I find when I get there is nothing like I have ever seen.
One strange thing seemed to hover above the water with a ramp leading down to the ground. My green eyes take everything in. It was a bit fuzzy, but for the most part I can see just as well as I can by the daylight. But it's what is at the bottom that I find most interesting. Four little creatures stood seeming to take everything in like I am. I squeak in excitement, as I don't know a bunch of words just yet.
"Typi non habent claritatem insitam; est usus legentis in iis qui facit eorum claritatem."
For the first time since Mama was murdered and I watched Papa kill her murderer, I leave out of the Throat. I left just as dusk set, heading out for the nearby Flats. After all, I need to get over my fear of leaving the Throat. I move confidently, even if the confidence is fake. I just want to stop being afraid of leaving the Throat without Papa.
When I arrive at the Flats, darkness has fallen. Part of me wants to turn around and race home. I am young and alone and it's dark... This can not be safe. But I push on, a light catches my attention and I follow it. I don't regret following it at all. What I find is a small filly, barely younger than I alone with four small creatures and a strange structure hovering over the water. I move to stand next to the younger filly, wondering why she was out here alone. Helló, a nevem Victorina. Mi vagy te? Ki vagy te? Hungarian flows from my mouth, and was becoming easier and easier to speak in. However I quickly switch over to Helovian. I am sorry. I'm Victorina. You are?
Okay, that sounded much better the first time. But oh well.
The wings that bring him towards the Flats are strong, the wings of a man rather than the feeble appendages of a boy. Adulthood looks good on Arakh, now blossomed to his full height and with enough bulk behind him to deter most predators, so there's a distinct arrogance to the way he soars over the Flats without a care for possible threat or danger. The young stallion is drawn as if by a magnetic pulse towards whatever strange event is taking place here, his eyes immediately seizing upon the bright lights that illuminate the otherwise pitch-black night. He is a moth to the flame before him, powerless to resist the pull.
The structure in front of him is one like he's never seen before. As the bull lands, folds his wings against his sides and begins to plod forwards, there's a sudden edge in his step that was missing when he was in the air. He's nervous now, unsure, and a low snort falls from his nostrils as he examines the erection. The ramp that tumbles from the depths of the structure causes his ears to pin and his entire body to spook backwards a step, eyes rolling in his head as he fiercely stares at the creatures emerging from it. He is only young, yet he doubts even an elder would be able to put a name to the odd array of beasts that walk from the ramp. They are horse-esque, but certainly are not horse, not with their array of eyes and queer ears.
As a crowd gathers around him, Arakh stares wordlessly at the creatures, unable to comprehend their existence or the odd structure they seem to have spawned from.
Arakh
YOU SHOULD HAVE LEARNED BY NOW
I'LL BURN THIS WHOLE WORLD DOWN
BRENDAN
HARDSHIP OFTEN PREPARES AN ORDINARY PERSON FOR AN EXTRAORDINARY DESTINY
The Flats are a far cry from the icy north that I am now calling home. But something had started drawing me south much earlier in the day. What can I say, it took us a while to get here. Arwen has taken to running back and forth as we walk exploring. It's a task to try and keep up with my young bonded. But as the same time, I wouldn't have it any other way.
The sight I find when I arrive in the Flats, well two sights really, but neither are something I expect to see. The first is my father, sleeping soundly with a young filly at his side. Questions spin in my mind. First wanting to know if the girl is my sister... But one look at her build as she stands tells me yes. At least I think yes. The second, is the small light that seems to of caught her attention.
With Dad not waking as she moves off nor is Alanna, I follow her instead. Arwen bounds ahead keeping closer tabs than I am. I will have to wake him later and ask a few questions. Did he ever find mother? Is the girl my full sister or half? Is she even his at all? I still say she is but I could be wrong.
When I catch up to Arwen, she has placed herself close to the girl and I join her and another standing in a small group among the crowd. The other girl, a red roan speaks first in a strange language and then in the language that seems to be native to Helovia. I nod softly. I introduce myself to the girls, if not the four strange creatures we stand before. "My name is Brendan, and this is Arwen."
Blue eyes look to the strange creatures, only to find Arwen starting to crawl towards them with her belly against the sand. Get back here!Me wanna know what they are.... She whines in my head. Arwen, please. At my pleading she stops and just waits, neither going closer nor coming back to me.
"Talk"
Wishlist
Seeking - :: [Companion: Dragon | Frost Breath] Prior Refusal One
Also Using Two - extra VOTG roll
The star girl had been wandering the flats for days before being found by the general of the Basin. She had lived for years alone, thinking that she was a solitary creature, perhaps even born by the side of a river, with no family or loved ones or even enemies. It wasn’t until Erebos, the handsome stallion from the caverns of the Aurora Basin, had arrived and told her that there was something here meant for her, something that she had built and grown and created, that had waited for her return. Perhaps it had decayed or cracked in her absence, but it was still a living breathing thing that she had left behind. Since the ground breaking discovery, she had ambled around in a dazed stupor, trying to fit together the small pieces she had. A single flashback, the way the smell of stone and pine that had clung to the stag’s skin seemed to call to her, the knowing that, despite her memory loss, there must be something out there for her, and the lead he had given her was all that she had. But knowing that there was something that she had left far behind her made her loneliness seem more profound and painful. What if whoever, whatever, she had left behind was no longer there? What if she would not be welcomed home, but instead turned away, exiled forever, for seemingly abandoning what she may or may not have called family? Her heart ached, and she couldn’t imagine an easy answer. Was there such a thing?
It was no surprise that she had nearly missed the arrival of the great domed craft, and she easily would have stumbled right past it during it’s descent, but the other bodies, as warm and real as the last unicorn she had passed, blocked her path, breaking her from her trance. She watched the strange piece of machinery land, and stood mesmerized as it opened it’s mouth (did something such as that have a mouth?), and more strangeness emerged.
Perhaps this was all a dream. Maybe she truly was dead, stumbling across a bleak purgatory full of grim haunts, destined to suffer for any sins that had happened before her fall. She could only call it frustrated exhaustion that rushed in her chest as she came to a stop, seeing what this test was all about.
Glowing beneath the cloud shrouded sky, they chattered nonsense like birds, buzzed with the furor of bees. She stood among the slowly growing throng of unicorns, equines, and pegasi, eager to see what other tricks the Halcyon Flats had to offer this fine night.
Two small children stood side by side. Siblings perhaps? Though only one spoke, first in just as much gibberish to the star girl as the newcomers, and the second stood mutely, simply watching. A winged bull stood similarly quiet. Then, a painted stallion speaks, introducing himself and his dog, who was curiously crawling towards the craft. She came to stop several paces from him. Was there a point in introducing herself to the crowd, to the strange little… whatever they were? It seemed rude not to, but also pointless if she did not speak their language.
“Erm, hello,” she began, tipping her crowned head to the side. Not much better than just remaining silent. Oh well. She dipped her head slightly then, a sign of respect and greeting, before returning to her tall posture. “Welcome.”
Had she been this ridiculous and awkward before? It seemed painful to think so, though she felt like she didn’t belong in her own body anymore. Everything was so muddled, she almost didn’t have enough energy to care about it anymore. So she fell silent, shutting her mouth before any further nonsense dribbled out, and waited like everyone else to see how this would turn out.
Ki'irha
i have love the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night
The little filly was sure her mother would not be happy if she found her roaming away from the safety of their forest home, yet here she was. Something seemed to call to the timid filly, pulling here this way and that until she found herself on track. Her studded head was held low as she slowly made her way through the strange and scary world. She hated to leave the safety of the mist and her mother's warm side, but she just couldn't ignore this feeling she was supposed to be somewhere else. On and on she went her tiny wings plastered against her sides nervously.
The sound of another speaking drew her to a stop as fear pulsed through her. She wanted to run getaway from the stranger up a head. The pull was just to strong for her to resist, so she took a deep breath and walked forward until she could see a group of horses standing around. She looked over everyone fearfully, even after her eyes found Sarai. There was noway she was going to walk up to her with all of these others around, but standing alone was almost just as scary. Swallowing hard she kept looking around trying to figure out why they were all gathered there. She quivered as her eyes fell on four tiny and absolutely terrifying creatures floating out of some kind of creepy metal thing. Her legs quivered and her heart rate shot through the rough.
Needing to be reassured she moved towards the older lady. "Wha... What are they Miss? Are we in danger?" Her words were breathy with her panic. Nobody else seemed scared, besides herself of course. Why was everyone else so calm? Couldn't they see these things could hurt them? They had shown up in some weird metal thing and they were tiny. What if they could grow?! What if they grew to be taller than even Mother?! She quivered and ducked her head ears tilted back showing every last ounce of her distress.
Vezér An animal's eyes have the power to speak a great language.
Night was the young filly's favorite time of day, that was when it was easiest to sneak around and hear things others didn't want heard. Learning secrets was one of her favorite things to do and anything that made that easier, was just a bonus. With the threat of Kaos looming over all of them, she thought it might be helpful if she wondered Helovia in search of important things. A grin spread over her pretty features as thoughts ran through her head. Maybe she would find out about secret lovers, or even better, a conspiracy. Smirking she stuck to the shadows until there were none left.
When she came upon the flats she tiptoed around the pools of water. Light suddenly caught her attention causing her steps to falter for a moment. Halting completely she watched the blue and purple lights curiously as the floated towards the ground. Rearing half way she raced off to see where the lights landed. By the time she arrived others were already gathered. The handsome colt Arakh was already there looking something very odd. A coy smile slipped into place as she pranced up to his side. "Hello Arakh." Her voice was a warm purr as she fluttered her lashes up at him. He was certainly a good match for later on down the road. Now she needed to focus. Silver speckled eyes turned towards the sky as the light turned out to be a massive and odd capsule.
Her dainty head tilted curiously as a ramp lowered like a wolf's tongue lolling from it's powerful jaws. She watched as four tiny glowing creatures with to many eyes and fuzzy ears floated down the ramp. Her ears pricked with her growing interest. Another spoke out to the creatures and she added her voice as well. "Hello. Where are you from?" She smiled and lowered her head closer to them inhaling their strange scent. "You're all very intriguing." It was meant as a compliment, and she hoped they took it as such. She glanced at the grullo wondering what he thought of the horse like creatures that came from the stars. To her surprise and wicked glee he seems scared. It takes all of her will power not to burst out laughing at the mighty son of Gaucho. Instead she steps closer to him, trying to gently brush her side against his in reassurance.
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Speech
Words;; 400
OOC/Tags;; @Arakh Seeking a dragon with Fire breath Wishlist
Using my 3 Extra VOTG rolls
She couldn’t have missed this one with her eyes shut. Lyanna’s grown used to the fact that strange things happen in Helovia, and somehow, everyone seems to be in the right place at the right time. This however, is a whole new level of strange and you don’t even need to be nearby to catch it. Okay, maybe you need to be kind of nearby, but a few areas away wouldn’t make you miss this one. The lights, perhaps, she could have missed if she hadn’t been flying in the area anyway. Flying at night near the Flats was absolutely stupid, but she’d spent too long away from the Edge today and was trying to get back in a hurry.
But dusk beat her home, and the Flats turned dark and impossible to navigate and in truth, if it wasn’t for the lights, she might have ended up flying in circles. Instead she lands as a round dome of sorts comes drifting out of the sky, large enough to hold a number of horses. There are others already there, and she recognizes two fillies from the Edge. She tries not to turn overly protective, but she moves into the group near Zoeya and Sarai, now determined to stay if only to keep an eye on the girls.
A ramp lowers from the dome and four tiny little glowing horses emerge from it. No, not quite horses, but rather some strange cross of beautiful luna butterfly and horse emerges. She can’t help but watch them, curious as to what they want with the residents of Helovia. It seems to her they have quite a lot already that no one here could begin to give them. Ever the polite Princess Queen, Lyanna simply nods her head and offers them a smile. “Lyanna. Can we help you?”
05-25-2017, 05:49 AM (This post was last modified: 05-25-2017, 05:50 AM by Noah.)
Though the desire to linger there together in her beloved underworld is enticing (forevermore these breathing caves will ring a chord both in his heart and his memory), Noah can no more exist without openness, than she can without flowers - or so is his belief. Though he cant read the passage of time down beneath the earth (the same shadows always lick eerily across the floor) restlessness drives him to pace athwart otherwise long, silent corridors; at last he cannot bear the ceiling, the walls, the same stale air all of the time.
Gasping nares drink deeply the flavour of cold afternoon air when at last he breaks through the gaping mouth of rock and clay and even though the flaming lake nearby oozes the foulest, offensive taste, the winged stallion is touched - nearly overwhelmed - by the weight of confinement cut loose from about his shoulders. The departure is something he has mentioned on and off in warning, for he knows well that the fluorescent walls and inexplicable subterranean woodland fill her with pleasure (beyond his capacity of comprehension) - so too has he assured her that they would return at some point to delve deeper.
Irrespective of worldly comfort, there had been a commitment made early on, to work in the basin (a duty he had thus far very deliberately avoided altogether)…
How long would they, ‘the horned-ones’, tolerate inactivity?
Gems glitter brilliantly as his eager eyes roam for the first time in daylight, across the sun-burned surface of the land. While he waits patiently for Nora to emerge, frustrating minutes are spent in vain, digging, striking and gouging (with progressive savagery) at one enticing stone who’s smooth ruby face seemed never to be any shallower; it would make a superb gift for the dove if it would only come loose. Soon though, as the click of her graceful step upon clay reached waiting ears, the quest was abandoned and focus turned instead to the promise of flight.
Gently (sincerely), and beneath the glow of a quietly tender smile he questions her readiness, ”follow now?” Though the most recent hours have been spent foraging ludicrously upon stone smothered fungi, there is (apparently) a new level of attentiveness, compassion felt towards her, and the same is reflected easily and without bridle through his manner.
At last the moment comes, and the painted stallion throws forward his burly frame into a headlong canter still longer than than the baron field - for soon enough he is barrelling through shoulder-high straw; wings unfurl at this point and begin their vigorous motion, then after he is airborne and rising between energetic bursts to find his beloved highway in the sky. Enough time has passed by now, that his sense of orientation is unfortunately skewed. Although his goal is to see them return to the cold, enclosed valley that Nora it seemed, preferred, he tracks slightly off course (and rather too close to the coastline, which he prefers).
For this reason, it is not the rusting foliage of forests and thistles that welcome their later descent, it is the gloom of a desert (perhaps) - although the splash of water beneath his churning, landing hooves and the delicious scent of briny humidity beg to differ. On this moonless night even the silhouettes are gone. The usual friendly smattering of stars is obscured utterly by dense cloud, and Noah is unsettled as he slows to a stop - ahead there are lights, though not any like he has ever seen. With a tentative ear turned to find sign that the dove is close by, he moves very slowly towards it, curious, concerned, and discovers quickly that a good number of others (strangers, their hot musk ripe for the taking), have already arrived to investigate.
The mumble of small voices tarnishes the pleasant silence, though bolder ones followed soon after, and Noah traces the nature of their querying to a gathering of four still more unusual beings, standing by the glow of the coloured lights (the luminescence shed, seems to brighten faces and forms nearby). He pauses there and turns twitching lips rearward to find Nora, to guide her in should she need it and nestles feather wings snug against each warm flank. Arranging himself thereafter comfortingly close to her, he seeks slowly to press a soft kiss against her shoulder.
king of the neon lights wore the crown on friday nights
It was nothing new that many of my brothers had just so easily stumbled upon dragons, precious eggs laid out without a caretaker, abandoned by distant mothers (me?) or forgotten completely. For a time I tried not to be upset about it, tried not to let it get to me that they had been given dragons so casually, discovered them by sheer luck and raced away merrily with the— but slowly, steadily, it began to burn in my gut, sizzle in the back of my mind, smoke before my eyes. I was the eldest and what did I have? Not a single companion to show for it, only my toxic blood and weak bullets.
Somewhere, I think I wanted to replace the missing pieces of my family (Sabre, Mother) with something else, something better— something I know can never leave me, something I can share experiences with and develop with. A king needs an adviser, a companion to take along an his grand endeavors and diplomatic quests, someone to stand beside him as he commands a mighty military or addresses his kingdom with poise. And I continue to search for that companion, hoping that I may be as lucky as my brothers in the search (I won't be, I have never been very lucky).
I have returned to the land I first met Zhu, distant and silent as my hooves draw over the small pools of water that reflect cold, macabre features back at me. Some days I forget how empty I sometimes am, how quiet my heart is, how different I feel against the grain of the outside world. I fail to recognize the face staring back at me, the boy man looking through me with bubblegum eyes.
Behind my vanity I can feel the pulse, the surge, the crowd that gathers around some peculiar force that has so casually waltzed onto our land. It is a strange object with wild looking creatures gliding out of it, sticking out against the horizon like a sore thumb as they stand barely at the knee with their long ears and numerous eyes.
I've drawn closer now, recognizing the faces of not just one, but two children of Volterra. One fails to have the telltale bone marking (typically a skull, in some cases a bone, like Zhu), instead the filly is covered in crimson webbing stretching across the white of her body, while the younger carries the marks of Volterra— I look over them only momentarily, assessing their appearances in hopes to figure out whether they're healthy or not, wondering where their mothers are (so young, are they in the Throat with Volterra?). "Szia," I address them both briefly, the greeting slipping off of my lips with ease. I pride myself heavily in the versatility between tongues, my ability to switch so smoothly from the native Helovian tongue to my father's language.
I look to the small, hovering equine-like beings that have descended from the ramp, curious as to what they were and what they wanted, why I was drawn to them and the Flats— there was something about them that drew us all here, and I wanted to know what it was. Perhaps just the curiosity, the wonder of seeing such odd little creatures? Maybe there was something more. "What are you?" It is neither a boom nor a demand, but spoken firmly, not quite with a threatening authority but there was confidence and no hesitance in how I addressed them, focused on their alien bodies as they hovered before the crowd.
"talk talk talk"
The little honeybee girl wandered for the sake of wandering; enticed by everything and anything all at once. She knew about the world in only minute granules – the smell of the salty, ocean air, the tender warmth of the Throat’s sands, the rise and fall of the oasis, the fiery embers scorched on cavern walls – and each time she meandered there seemed to be something that caught her attention, made her dream, made her hope, made her mind prosper and her heart full. Truly, she realized she shouldn’t have waltzed off, away from the safety of the draconic lands and the unspoken savagery contorted through its crimson facets, but she was also a driven creature, moved and maneuvered and enticed by the splendor of the rain ghosting over feathers, by the nightfall casting a brooding shadow, by the twists, turns, and tapestry of the unknown. Without her sister or her mother nearby, there was truly naught to stop her from reaching past the boundaries of the dunes and clawing through the eternal abyss, alone, unguarded, innocent and bold to a fault – scorched by some unseen layer, some tangent, some brutal characteristic forged between her chest, heart, and essence. Even when fear and apprehension should have seared past her bones and right out through her lungs, until she was a shaking leaf, until she was a screeching damsel, the girl was silent in her awe and reverie, in her widened eyes, in her reverence for the particles of the swiveling enigmas.
So naught could cease her abrupt motions, her following steps, when the lights flickered in the distance – haunting, tempting illuminations – and tiny Melita reached for them the only way she could understand or comprehend: rampaging straight after them, whistling chords of silliness, of joviality, shouting out “Who are you?” and still forging on when there was no answer, no rhyme, no reason. It could’ve been a ghost, it could’ve been a spirit, it couldn’t been a wraith intending to drown her in the nearest lake, but the youth held no grudges, no poignant gestures, no hollowed myths and hallowed stories of what lurked amidst the chaos, the bedlam, the bramble. Any distortion, any nuance, any hint of danger or treachery was a simple fragment honed only by instinct, and heedlessly shoved to the side as she was bewitched, as she was beguiled, as she was tossed amidst the gathering crowd.
Her eyes focused almost solely on the strange apparition, growing closer and closer until she seemed banded with the others, all striving to get a nearer look or holding back due to consternation. The youth’s gaze only swept over the others briefly, most completely unknown or foreign to her (a pattern; she almost snorted at the thought, but didn’t wrinkle her nose despite the noted aspiration), save for Vezer (and she didn’t race to her automatically, choosing to hold her ground along the side, proud for no other reason except she was here, observing and occupying space with the oddest of things). Eventually, her brazen airs won out, and she hastened a quick “Hello!” to the seemingly equine figures that proceeded from the machine; entranced all over again, flung into the corridors and avenues of impulses and inclinations.
05-26-2017, 02:01 PM (This post was last modified: 06-06-2017, 09:53 AM by Nora.)
When hunger doesn’t gnaw and our personal gratification is equally sated…there is a whole province begging to be explored. Though I’m unused to handling a position of influence…my curiosity wades into a new level of audacity and spurs me to take a tentative lead through those somber, dingy passages. What we find is spine-tingling. Glowing, thriving chambers that appear to have no end as they disappear into the ceiling. There are crystalline suites that glitter with savage, extraordinary beauty and dead eyed hallways which thwart our exploration by tainting our courage with fear of the unknown and that strange…unworldly stench and groans emitting from their bellies.
These caverns are unlike those that saw my fragile half-year of infancy. But the presence of those walls rekindles faint recollections. Perhaps it’s the marbling in those ancient dens…or the dull whisper of stone mimicking the voice of my grand-da who loved to share his lore with the young. Tattered images arise…they are the refreshing streams that had bled throughout those forgotten shafts like highways…and the pale, crimson mushrooms of various size which always grew abundantly from floor to ceiling like stalagmite.
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While these dusty feet dig into that unreliable gravel, clawing and scrapping their way up to the exit...my feathered arms drift apart for balance and to allow the flat tip of those primary feathers to brush a final farewell over the pulsing, crystalline walls. Ahead of me, those undiluted beams of sunlight engulf and beckon from the archway. Eyelids flutter, squinting as that first tinge of warmth nuzzles itself into trembling crevices. When the humid, stale musk of water, mineral and fungi evaporates...my nostrils can't help but scrunch; openly grimacing, highlighting their resentment for that foul, unbecoming taste of rotting sulfur.
Pausing just outside the entryway, I allow my senses a few moments to adjust and enjoy that first taste of sunlight as it runs invisible fingers throughout and envelopes my sensitive joints with a rivaling (false) promise of satisfaction. Noah's request brings these hooded eyes to him; squint tracing his sunlit, rippled body of honey and milk...the memory of our most recent copulation nudges my subconscious with a sultry grin of ownership. Mini me is a wanton thing, murmuring appreciation and ushering that raw essence of gentleness and exploitative passion...jowls tighten and my heart canters. I force my lips into an easy curve, but these hazy irises drop – there is no shadows to hid my expression as it flushes with unhelpful coyness, "yes," I breath his word to life.
Oh my...
While he throws bleached wheat into the volcanic breeze with boyish eagerness; mini me props herself up, gawking and expressing an abundance of gratitude. After a quick shake to boil off the remnants of sedentary, I join him...
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Below us, the cloak of night has waned and revealed the magnificence of an endless body of water. The ocean. Brine is a welcome replacement for that stench of decay. Irises flex to the eagle, already expectant that he'd answer my plea for information. “Noah?” Hollows thrum harder, throttling those warmed muscles to catch up, “water?”
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I follow him obediently to the ground; but his choice of pit-stop is received with a cross of repulsion and unease. This is by far the lowest on our chart of enjoyable sightseeing. Wet, sloppy, dark, squish. I hate how these toes sink down into the cold, unexplored deep of stagnate…salty, swampy land. I could literally feel the twitch and itch of mosquitoes and gnats closing in...irritably, my ears flick and my tri colored tail lashes against these sweaty hindquarters. Mini me scowls, scrunching and battling the urge to give Noah an earful...while my head wages with sensitivity, the follicles on my nape tingle as the forked head of uncertainty, anxiety and distrust take advantage of our grim situation and leech upon my stash of courage...
Oh my...leeches! Disgusted shivers flood my apprehension and bring a whimper to these lips.
Ears tilt rearward, signalling my decision to beak the silence. Quickening (still disgusted by how each foot is sucked into the murk below) I slide in beside him and linger off his right hip. Lips shed apart, prepped to speak...and that's when I notice it... the flicker of something off in the distance...an unnatural array of lights. Mini me narrows her eyes and grunts, frowning all the while. "What is that...?" spoken beneath a sharp intake of air, the would-be scowl comes out as a muffled, unenthusiastic question.
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By the time we've approached their strange (growing) huddle, every uptight fiber is hypersensitive. Those silhouettes, tall and short (mostly tall) are situated around the alien, illuminated hovel…and Noah, the avian predator, doesn’t shy from their mysterious oddity. No...he joins the huddle... Using silent gestures and body language to clearly invite me in as well. Though a fabrication of uncertainty is woven into my expression...I dare to meet his bold gaze, but shame in my lack of fortitude brings my eyes downward. He says nothing to chide (nor elevate) those emotions…instead, his compassion becomes tangible, those achingly slow lips reach out to comfort me. His hot breath ignites an influx of warmth...my tiny, oversensitive hairs become electrified. The talon of anxiety loosens it's hold; crumbling inwardly, I turn my head to him and seek to press the smooth curve of one cheek against his throat.
OC: I'm not entering -- just here for development <3
To the surprise and delight of the alien creatures, a sizable crowd gathered around the ramp. They had done their research on this land, of course, and while they had expected large creatures, seeing the horses of Loorien up close really was quite a shock. They were just so big! And hardly any of them glowed! How did they go about seeing in the darkness?
Their excitement grows with each added body, especially when none of them react violently to them, and their chirping voices grow louder for a moment. Many questions are directed their way, and while they don’t answer any of them immediately they do share glances - blinking their many eyes as they wonder how best to respond.
Finally, it is the lightest of the blue creatures who steps forward a little bit. It clears its throat a little bit, and then tries to put its many hours studying the common tongue of this planet to use. “Hi!” A good start! And the others chirp their agreement. “We are visitors from another planet, sent here to learn about your kind. We have been studying you for a long time and you are most… interesting!”
“We hope you will all help us in our mission, as you seem most kind.” The creature looked to its companions who all nodded in encouragement for it to continue. “To start, would you all share a piece of information about your home with us?” While they could certainly learn all about the part of the land they were currently in, the creatures didn't think it was likely that everyone here lived in this shallow lake.
A crowd gathered beside here, all here to witness the arrival and news from the extraterrestrials. Some spoke to the creatures with warm welcome, and others remained silent. Something was familiar about this scene, though she couldn’t quite place the sense of deja vu. Your magic, a voice within her nudged, and she absent-mindedly conjured a trio of glittering butterflies that snapped and fizzed in the crisp night.
’What are they, miss? Are we in danger?’ The blue girl looked down at the filly, casting her a kind smile, before sending the butterflies fluttering towards her and around her crowned head. They dissipated quickly, before they could possibly burn or hurt the curious girl. “I’m not sure, love, but I think we’re alright. I’ll be here if anything goes wrong, though, so don’t you worry,” She shifted slightly towards the girl, providing a reassuring distance. She then cast her silver gaze back upon the craft as one of the beings moved forward and began to speak.
The starlit girl listened keenly as the glowing creature spoke, trying not to grow distracted by the way they seemed to sparkle and glow ever so softly. She was jealous of this, but for only a brief moment, until the question was presented.
She couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle when they asked to hear about Helovia. Ki’irha barely knew anything about this place due to her condition, but, as none else had yet answered, she was able to share the simplest of answers. “Many live here, scattered across this place. Unicorns, pegasi, equines, even hybrids, who are mixes of multiple races, populate this land in herds and bands, and some even live as vagabonds.”
She fell silent again, allowing the rest to present their facts and information. She allowed her eyes to follow the voices, listening intently, trying to retain the information being shared, so she herself could work on piecing together what she could. Maybe another one here could provide some of the answers she had been desperately seeking.
Ki'irha
i have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night
Too ignorant to know if she should be afraid, if she should be running, if she should be racing across the reflective grounds to escape the unknown, she merely listened, agape and in awe all the same. Her ears twitched and her eyes widened again and again, led on by the notes of the others, by the notice of help - and the little girl’s heart leapt at the chance, beating swift and strong, determined to somehow aid whomever required the assistance. She puffed out her chest, tried to appear strong, enduring, fully and entirely capable despite her youth, her size, or her sweet grace, yet utterly incapable of twisting away the beauty of her smile, the depths of her scorching determination. “I’ll help!” She chirped back almost immediately, loud and reverberating, gleaming over the mirror images of lights and clouds, pressing the slightest bit forward, attentive to what they craved.
But instead of action, instead of unfolding her wings and soaring into ambitious maneuvers, they simply wanted information; and unfortunately, this too was something she held little of. The child’s eyes fell on the ground for a moment, pondering over what to share, uncertain of the parallels between worlds, of what would be noteworthy to embark upon about her beloved home (the beautiful sand, the warm, tender embrace of the sun, the flight of dragons gnarled and nestled between stones and legends?). She lifted her gaze to the starry, celestial lady (wondered, for just a singular moment, what it was like to be covered in galaxies, nestled and painted like the heavens) as she spoke her share, about vagabonds, about species, about the way the world had covered and scattered them about in so many different ways. Perhaps that was something the stellar femme enjoyed most of all – how everyone was unique, how some could fly and soar, how some could swing swords, how some could race across the grounds – and so, in turn, the honeybee child thought she could speak about what she loved and cherished.
Her features rekindled back into the wholesome, cherubic grins, fastened right onto the otherworldly beings, and stoked exactly what they’d craved. “I live in the Dragon’s Throat!” She began, pride crooning between her words and lungs, sizzling and burning right then and there, beating in her heart, in her soul, in her essence. “It has the most beautiful lake,” and then she pictured it, diving amidst its depths, rising from its fathoms like a tempestuous siren, laughing, playing, and splashing friends and fiends. “It’s surrounded by lush grass and palm trees, and you can swim in it all day. It’s absolutely perfect.” Then she nodded, certain and confident; the radiant smile never brighter.
Once, she wouldn’t have thought twice about the request. The horse-like aliens seem kind and genuine. The one that speaks looks to the others now and again, and they nod and chirp along. She smiles at the sight, and smiles at the light blue creature that talks. Part of her brain screams a warning though, afraid after what Kisamao had done to them. Her, of all horses, should know that no one is trustworthy, that nothing is as what it seems. Their own friends had turned on them, perhaps had even held the knife to her brother’s throat.
Why, then, do these creatures want to know about their homeland? What do they care about Helovia? Why is such knowledge interesting to them? It could be purely academic, in the way their philosopher’s collected the stories of the herd and their residents. There was great value to be had in stories and information, and that is what sets her on edge. There is great value in information. So why do they want information about Helovia?
Lyanna can’t fault them for the sins of others though. It is not their fault that she has been turned on time and time again. Their request is, on the surface, harmless, and she can see now harm in offering them some small piece of information. Truthfully, there’s little information she can offer that is of any real value. Her time here has been limited at best, and she doesn’t know much in the grand scheme of the history that exists in Helovia.
A starry, beautiful woman that looks vaguely familiar answers first. Had they crossed paths once before? Perhaps in the Threshold, or some other common ground. Lyanna tries to recall, but she can’t remember. If they had met once, it must have been in passing. When the starry woman finishes, Lyanna takes her turn. “I live in a herd called the World’s Edge. The land gets its name from the cliff that forms one of the borders. The rest of the herd is largely pine forest.”
It seemed like harmless enough information. They had a ship, after all, so she figured if they really wanted they could simply fly around and gather location information. Might as well offer something she is at least somewhat knowledgeable about. She had little history to offer, but she knows her herd.
He's so focused on the alien beasts that he almost jumps out of his fur when the spiderweb-marked girl addresses him. He manages to hide his surprise under the guise of a shiver from the chilly ocean breeze, although he allows his gaze to roam across the filly's skin with only the tiniest hint of subtlety. She's the king's daughter, and the fact she is showing an interest in him makes him almost purr. "Hello," he rumbles back, inserting every ounce of masculinity into the word that he possibly can (whilst surreptitiously glancing around to make sure her sire the Sultan isn't around to kick him into the middle of next week).
It's not long before a huge crowd has gathered, and the bull is hard-pressed to smother his disappointment at the new obstacles between himself and his prize. His tail flicks to show his agitation and he has to fight not to pin his ears at the other intruders. Eventually the aliens ask for information about each horse's home, and Arakh waits a second to gain an idea of what everyone else is saying before he speaks himself.
"Arakh comes from Dragon's Throat. Strongest herd in Helovia, and was once ruled by strongest man in Helovia." That's no insult to the current Sultan, Indomitable as he is, but he is not Gaucho. "Dragon's Throat is an island, can only be accessed by those with wings or a magical key." He hopes this fact is interesting enough to earn the creatures' favours.
Arakh
YOU SHOULD HAVE LEARNED BY NOW
I'LL BURN THIS WHOLE WORLD DOWN
Vezér An animal's eyes have the power to speak a great language.
Silver flecked eyes flicker to her younger sister wondering what she thought of all this. She would never reprimand the younger for sneaking out of the herd to investigate. Hell, she was sneaking out too, but at least she knew how to handle herself. She turns back to the oddity before the group not really worrying about the others in the heap of horse flesh. If someone wanted her attention they would have to work for it. To her surprise her family's language slips into her ears. Her dainty head turns sharply thoughts of Tyrath heavy on her mind. She missed her testvér more than anything and she often wondered where and why he had left them all. Surprise and interest filled her face pulling her brow up she looked over the stallion. Eyes slipped over his dark pelt, blood,and skull marking thoughtfully. Here stood another brother, one she had yet to meet. Of course the girl knew she had other siblings scattered around Helovia, but to meet one was something else. An easy smile slipped over her web marked face, "Szia testvér." She paused for a moment her head tilting slightly, "Később majd találkozunk?" She watched the pink eyed stallion waiting for his answer before turning back to the strapping man beside her.
Being the War king's princess had it's ups and downs. When it came to men it was kind of an equal mix; the power of her father both drew and repelled them.It did make finding suitable stallions easier, since the weak would avoid angering the Indomitable. For now Arakh seemed more than willing to look past what her father might do to him if he found out. His thundering purr sent a shiver over her hide heating her up. She basks under his wondering blue eyes puffing up to her full height. She knew her body was caught between women hood and child hood. One day she would fill out her body would grow into her long slender legs. The bull horned man seemed to know that as well. She smiled and winked playfully up at the older stallion before turning her attention back to the strange creatures.
A beautiful blue toned creature floated forward before surprising her by speaking. She smiled politely listening along as he told them that it wanted to know of their land. She listened as others gave their tidbits of information pondering why they would want to know about them. "In our land, it can be seen as rude to not give some information about yourself before asking others for information." Her voice was warm and gentle, but inside she was squirming with excitement. She was sure her Apa would love to learn about something these foreigners. Shrugging and smiling she opened her mouth, "My Apa is the leader of the Dragon's Throat a desert island with a beautiful oasis in the middle. We are a herd of proud warriors, that bathe in the fire of our patron God." She watches the tiny horse looking creatures.
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Speech
Words;; 505
OOC/Tags;; @Arakh @Kid
Szia testvér : Hi brother
Találkozhatunk később? : Can we meet later?
Seeking a dragon with Fire breath Wishlist
Using my 3 Extra VOTG rolls
"Szia," The word from my Papa's language stuck out to me more than anything. My head turns in a knee jerk reaction, honestly because I was worried it was Papa himself at first even if the voice didn't sound right. "Szia testvér." My head turns to see the spiderweb marked girl from the party, her voice the source this time.... Wait... ARE THEY BOTH MY SIBLINGS?!? "Később majd találkozunk?" Another boy had joined the young roan girl beside me, and I took the chance to move closer to those who seemed to be my family.... How many more were there?! Mindannyian beszélünk?
The creatures then speak, and a few begin to offer answers including a few from my home. But one answer, frustrates me. So I correct him. The Dragon's Throat is still currently lead by the strongest man in all Helovia. It's mostly a desert island, with one area of grasses and water and shade. My eyes narrowed at the colt who dared to say such things, even as my sister stands with him and says nothing about it.
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![[Image: 5581b91112f69]](http://images.helovia.net/index.php/view/5581b91112f69)
