"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.
.arborun lignea .. .mare. ..23 years. .. .16.3 hands.
She comes, slowly, a pace common for a creature like her. The aborun lignea are not prized for their speed, though they can be motivated to quicken, Willow remembers with a faint smile how she bested the others in a race when she had the chill of the Steppe nipping her flanks.
She enters there now and indeed her pace quickens, as much from the temperature as like the company she will soon be meeting.
The great hulk of her tree rises and falls with each stride like some bizarre ship rolling on the sea of a horse. With every hoof-fall a shudder rankles up her limbs and causes her leaves to quiver. In the tops of the boughs Ermine has hoisted himself up, unable to rest with all this travel. He doesn't mind however, but he does not chatter now as he did at the outset of this venture, when she'd first visited their neighbor in the World's Edge and then to their more neutral ally of the Throat. Saved the best for last she mused grimly, trying to make some light of the situation. She knew she had to stay positive in thought or else her demeanor might shift which would dramatically affect the outcome of this encounter. Ermine sensed her nerves and was on guard, though he knew not what for.
"We're here," she announces to him, glancing around at the white desolation and feeling a shiver crawl up her spine. She has stopped at the borders of the Aurora Basin, or so she believes. She knows little of Helovia still, and is guided more by memory of word than first-hoof experience. She ensured she strayed far from this land's true line however, preferring to linger a good distance away from where she believed their markers stood. She throws an emerald gaze over her shoulder, towards where she knows her guard stands in wait. She cannot see the protectors she brought with her, but they lurked, ready to approach if things turned sour. She insisted they remain out of sight however, least their appearance make the Basin bristle from the outset.
Willow gives her chocolate body a rough shake to settle herself in for a good conversation, cocking a hip casually in the hopes to appear less disarming, although maybe it would have been better to appear more so in this case. "Aurora Basin," she calls out kindly, but cautious and strong of tone. She knows this herd is not held in high esteem or with good terms, in fact she was rather warned away from it. Willow was adamant however that she meet the healers of all the herds. Perhaps it was foolish, but such is why she brought her guard, hidden as yet. "I am Willow, Earth Medic of the Windtossed Foothills, come to seek council with your healer."
The days were seemingly meshing together. It hadn’t been longer ago when the sea’s shadow could count the days when she had stumbled into Helovia. Even now, she was a fresh face that was undoubtedly mistaken for another’s identity. In meeting a good quantity of characters who called Helovia their home, she had learned quite a lot already from this bizarre world. To her, it was more of like a fairy tale, than anything else. When you are a prisoner in a mortal’s body for two decades of your life, trapped on a world known only to humans, you forget that creatures like her, and anything you can possibly imagine, do exist, somewhere.
She had been invited to call the Foothills her home. The invitation had come from Boltar. She had accepted really because it was the first offer, and her weary ancient bones had been screaming for a rest. She remembered attending a herd meeting, one of many she presumed, but there had been introduced to Willow, her teacher. She had always been one to be of help, and found being a healer’s apprentice would allow her to do just that. Nature was one area she felt a keen sense of awareness with. Also, her sensitivity to all that surrounded her, was a skill she had honed and perfected, almost. Though, she was no fortuneteller and could not read thoughts.
She had inquired to Willow she wished to travel with her and learn whatever there was to learn. It also presented good and intelligent company to converse with, should she desire it, preferring silence more often than not. But more so, she loved wandering and traveling, and at hearing Willows idea to visit all the herd medics and healers, the bloodless canvas was one of the first to offer to travel with her.
By direction and climate change, the opaque unicorn mare had a suspicion they were headed to the Aurora Basin. She had not inquired on the specifics of the itinerary, but was allowing Willow to pick and choose their destinations based off of her intel, deciding it best to not meddle where her facts and information were not up-to-date. It was Willow’s announcement that only confirmed to the apprentice, she had been right in her calculations of directions.
She waited silently and slightly to the right of the Foothills Healer. The crystallized water that littered the floor in huge piles brought with it cold and bitterness. She had heard the Basin to be a herd of racist unicorns. Though she herself was a unicorn of ancient times, she did prefer her kind, but would not describe herself as racist. She wondered if her appearance beside Willow would allow for a more neutral acceptance, without assumption. At least, that what she hoped would happen.
She waited patiently with Willow, feeling the butterflies in her stomach churn and twist. Besides the common grounds that surrounded each herd’s territory, she had tried to venture and explore, but had kept out of territories of other herds. Not in fear, but more out of respect. She was not one for war or battle, or arguments, but if it arose to be necessary, than let it speak at that time and place.
Her sapphire glacier spheres grazed the boundary lines as Willow announced their arrival. With the bitter cold and the snow that laden the floor, it was a bit difficult to pay attention and to focus on any living forms for quite a distance, especially with it being so white… and hazy. But with trained vision and focus, NADIRA spotted a moving form, and gently nudged the Foothills’ healer in the direction of new company.
Thoughts || Normal Post || "Previous Speech" || "I am talking."
See the life I've had
Can make a good man
Turn bad
A red ear flickers to a strangers call to him, a Medic who came from the Foothills who also apparently came for council. d'Artagnan snorted and made his way across the frosty grounds of the Basin with Aramis marching by his side, dainty chest puffed out. The sickly way in which he had been called made the shade think that this healer was not going to be like him. She would probably care for the lives of others where as the Mender, to put it simply, couldn't care less. There was the scent of two here though the other had remained quiet, and soon d'Artagnan rounded another corner to come face to face with a unicorn and a talking tree. He let the amusement shudder through him and suddenly he began to wonder if this was why they never heard much from the Foothills. Did they all have trees on their backs? d'Artagnan could've walked past a dozen of them by now without even noticing. There was definitely a form of horse under there and Aramis was looking at her rather thoughtfully. Probably wondering if he could relieve himself on the strange looking tree horse or not.
He offered the pale, unicorn femme a curious look, wondering if she was here on healers business too or was simply a body guard for an old lady. He let his amusement subside before returning to his more serious face. Turning his head to one side to address the looming Willow, "d'Artagnan the Nightshade, Time Mender, and why should I grant you council or even five minutes in this land?" His tones filled gruffly with coldness, dual coloured eyes simmering dangerously with only the rules of the Basin holding him in back for now. Civility he didn't do very well, it meant he had to actually think about what he was doing or saying and all though he was capable of it, d'Artagnan never really had the patience to practise it. The word 'council' always seemed to mean a long, drawn out conversation that required all his concentration.
The Nightshade simply preferred the shorter, more direct words that summed up his feelings in a 'to the point' way. Though, he had some ways to go before he could be as small worded as Deimos.
He may not be a warrior, (at all), but he still felt a sense of duty to accompany the mare named Willow along her journey. He had come with her, slipping up next to her and the willow-like femme named Nadira, shortly before entering the final leg of the journey into the Frostbreath Steppe, and had walked with them since, quietly enjoying the steady ambling pace set by the tree-horse. Argetlam still bubbled with the urge to ask her if she could move the tree stitched into her back, or rather withers, if the tree was even real or a very complex craft, and if it was, could he see it please, and how did it work and look so life-like, and... well, all sorts of these questions.
A short while ago, he had been separated, inexorably drawn to something off in the distance of the snow-white tundra, that was still frosted and glacial in the heat of Tallsun. There he had found a vein of metal unlike anything he had seen before- a conspirator of steel, blue and white, glittering with a dim golden light. It had been a metal beyond incredible; he crafted it as easily as... unimaginably easy, that's all the simple-minded stallion could think of. Many long minutes he had spent enjoying every moment of his idle-minded crafting, before abruptly coming to his senses, realizing swiftly that he must have fallen behind.
Hence his lateness in the arrival of the dwelling in the mountains.
The heavy stallion broke into a trot, hastily quickening his step to stand beside the pale mare and the sturdy medic, arriving just in time to hear d'Artagnan's words. While short-worded, he did have a point, Argetlam would happily admit, and the dapple felt tempted to retreat. Maybe it was the unicorn's... prickliness. He may have come as a step-in guardian, a keeper of peace, but he wasn't actually intending to fight or anything. If needed, he might be able to allow some blows to slide off him, but horns looked like they could be quite gory. Nevertheless, the blood bay had an amulet, and that was more than enough to keep him near.
Jewelry! My oh my, he loved jewelry. Say... wasn't this the stallion he met with Arah? The one who called him a fat boy? Don't get side-tracked! The great draft exhaled, and waited patiently for the earth medic to speak, for he was confident she would have excellent reasons.
Arah approached the group and saw Argetlam next to a unicorn and a tree/horse creature facing d'Artagnan. She knew her place was to be back up for the Time Mender, she hovered in the back and listened to d'Artagnan speaking to them. She smiled at Argetlam and nodded her head in greeting. She had hoped that he wasn't too angry with her for choosing to go with her own kind. Her golden eyes were trained on him and his movments for a few minutes before she actually came to study this 'Willow' creature. Rather ironically named, Arah couldn't help be fantasied by her, the way she moved and spoke. Her own ruby pendant rested against her chest, gleaming when it caught the light, this meeting would probably end in the rules being ignored resulting in the medic and her team leaving them be. Arah knew that her herd didn't like being intruded, each to their own. Unicorns, by nature, were secretive. Them coming into our land would be seen as an intrusion. She now turned to the medic's shadow and narrowed her eyes, she was a unicorn, as she had already observed. Why wasn't she in the basin, apart of their herd? 'Everyone has a choice.' she reminded herself.
Waiting for the medic's reply she didn't feel the need to remind d'Artagnan that they had right's to a council. However she felt that it was a headache that wasn't worth dealing with. So maybe they could just have a polite conversation here and then they could turn around and head home. Once again her eyes were trained on Argetlam, she did feel the urge to speak up and apologise to him. Her lips remained closed and she sent her eyes downcast to her front hooves, now wasn't the time to sort out her own personal issues.
She listened up again waiting for the creature named Willow to speak.
Haunted by my eyes, the way they hold your attention even in the loudest silences. Notes;
Words; 498
Tag; Argetlam, Nadira, Willow, d'Artagnan, Open.
And I ain't afraid to die, I’m afraid of going to hell.
✽ Force and magic permitted. ✽
✽ No fatal or permanent damage. ✽
✽ Please only tag in opening posts. ✽
02-14-2013, 02:40 PM (This post was last modified: 02-15-2013, 06:07 AM by Mauja.)
Even in summer, the sun was pale. The steady beat of wings, still heavily barred by youth, bore Irma through the frigid air, feathers rustling whenever she shifted in another direction. The owl enjoyed roaming the skies alone, far from her bonded, yet tethered by that link, anchored deep within his soul. They did not cling to each other, like others did. Keen blue eyes peered down, and found movement — lumbering giants and a slender shadow. Angling her wings down, the owl descended, relaying what she saw to Mauja, who almost fell on his face in surprise. Painted brown and grown with moss, it was a walking tree with a horse attached to it (or the other way around), as well as a slimmer, shorter unicorn, and a robust gray stallion. Irma passed overhead, scenting and seeing the ermine in the boughs of the trees; she descended slightly, and made a faux grab for it, intentionally closing her sharp talons in the air before sweeping out, to see if more visitors were coming.
Mauja felt pretty stunned by the sight of a mare with a tree on its back, and that alone was enough to make him pick up his frosted hooves and set out across the valley of their home. A summons rang out, the voice feminine yet deep, and he assumed it belonged to Willow, the one with the willow on her back. The red shape of d'Artagnan was visible ahead of him, as well of the pale mare who had requested to be made a Phantom. She was a newcomer, one he had not had the chance to meet yet. Shaking his spotted head, Mauja felt the odd coolness of his own amulet as it settled against his chest. Flicking his ears forward, the ex-King strode up to d'Art's side, sliding close enough against him to brush his shoulder along his red flank. Then, he said nothing, merely watched them with wary eyes, cocking one hip. d'Artagnan was not a healer like any other, and if Willow had come for compassion and an exchange of knowledge, she might not get what she bargained for. The Nightshade had his names for a reason, one of them his expertise in poison — Mauja fought down the cruel smirk threatening his curious expression. The idea of cheating the Earth Medic and making her poison those she sought to heal... But surely someone of the earth, someone who has half god damn tree, would not be fooled.
Intrigued by her, his gaze lingered for a long time upon the rough bark of her tree, how it intersected with her flesh, the moss growing upon her rich, earthy bay hide; leaves, vines and tendrils adorned her mane, but they seemed so healthy it wouldn't surprise him if they grew out of her neck, and were not simply there for looks. The Frostheart turned his eyes to the one beside her, a small, yet elegant unicorn mare, not too unlike the other one present, aside from the horns. And the last, a sturdy, robust stallion. Did they fear the Basin so much, that they sent an entourage with their Medic to keep it safe? He didn't even need to nudge Irma — she was already at it, scouring the terrain for more. Was this a diversion? Had the day come, when they would fight for their home again? No.. the air wasn't tense enough, the day was too calm. No army had marched across the Steppe, and even at this time of the year, to brave the ocean was madness. Blinking in the sunlight, the quiet ex-King slid his gaze back to Willow, watching her with open curiosity, but he stood where he could see all three at once.
Aaron and his own young companion had made the trip to protect the healer and her apprentice. The young warrior and mason hung back intentionally, not eager to travel back into the Basin so willingly. The last time he had been here was to challenge for his mother's freedom. It had been that fight that helped him make the choice to return to the Foothills for more training. The only good out of it had been, was becoming Mason of the Foothills and Alanna. The pup whimpered, reminding him that she could hear his thoughts and emotions. He nickered softly, trying to calm the pup. They needed to keep aware of everything, and not get distracted. Brown eyes watched from his hiding place as D'Artagnan and a hellhound pup arrived. From the Foothills Argetlam also arrived. It was not until the ivory stallion with spots all over his coat did Aaron reveal his own presence.
Stepping forward he moved to stand on the left side of the earth medic, brown eyes locked on the now trio from the Basin. The mare he was not so worried about, as he was the two stallions before them. The paint had faced them both in battle and knew what they could be capable of. After all the icy stallion had targeted him first in the invasion of World's Edge. The blood bay on the other hand had snuck into the Edge and stolen his mother away. The pup growled softly, feeding off of the emotions of her bonded. What an interesting meeting this was going to become.
"something to say"
✝
In Nomine Patris Et Filii
Et Spiritus Sancti
✝
Please Tag Aaron in All Posts
Permission granted to use magic or physical force with Aaron at any time for any reason to any degree, with the exception of killing him.
02-19-2013, 07:40 PM (This post was last modified: 02-20-2013, 12:04 PM by Blu.)
WILLOW & ERMINE
.arborun lignea .. .mare. ..23 years. .. .16.3 hands.
A shadow descended briefly on wings so quiet they barely even whispered. The threat was hardly an idle one and Ermine screamed a series of sharp curses as he was startled into hiding, ducking into her tree so abruptly that he set her boughs slapping against one another in his haste. The leaves created a large ruckus that made her announcement almost unnecessary. Willow slid her ears back slightly, listening to the sounds of her tree while green eyes trailed after the pale owl that strode on the wind.
The arrival of d'Artagnan brought her attention back forward, his presence also given by a shifting of Nadira at her side. She nodded quietly to her apprentice, smiling faintly, though nervously. She was glad to have this mare at her side, having enjoyed her company the entire trip, but being especially fond of the support she granted in this moment. Perhaps the horn on the pale mare's 'brow would also grant them some modicum of favor from this herd. Willow thought it unlikely, but she tried to remain positive.
Though still anxious about that owl, she could not afford to ignore her company in favor of the bird. Ermine remained on look out however and occasionally sent her images of the sky. They were brief and often cluttered with her foliage though as Ermine only spared cautious glances, still shaken by the encounter as evidence with his still-bushed tail and his stream of irritated chattering beneath his breath. Willow bade him to settle with a brilliant flare of red twisting into blue between their minds.
d'Artagnan met her cordially enough and Willow dipped her head deeply to him in respect. She hoped that by remaining a good distance from their borders as well, that she would appear less intrusive. It was as much for that as more room to flee is needed as well. She remained tense, though hoped to look relaxed while preparing to converse with this stallion. He was kind enough not to point out the obviousness of her species and it seemed not to color his interaction with her in as far as she could tell, but all hints of kindness ended there, his words much less inviting. Willow intended to push on, not permitting herself to be intimidated so easily by a gruff voice. Perhaps a wiser horse would have.
Snow crunching underhoof alerted her to the arrival of Argetlam. She spared a flick of an ear towards him, but otherwise her eyes did not stray from the Nightshade. She'd hoped Argetlam would have remain back further until such a time as his presence was needed; she did not want to make it seem she'd come here with body guards entailed, even if that was exactly what she had done. Although no mistress of deceit by any means, Willow understood how first impressions were to be made, and appearing defensive or hostile in the least would only handicap her mission. She bit at her lip in annoyance, but it was already said and done now.
As she roused her voice to answer the bay, more bodies drew forward from the frosty horizon. Another unicorn arrived beside d'Artagnan, earning a curious look from Willow who quietly wondered if this was another healer or apprentice. "Whether you should or not is nothing I can mandate. I have come only to offer you the same opportunity I have granted the other territories." Willow paused then, glancing to the side as the speckled stud neared.
He strode with a more authoritative intent, suggesting to Willow that he was not a healer or apprentice. He seemed curious however, so she let her gaze relax, drifting again to the Nightshade to continue. "It's my hope that all the healers will gather at the Thistle Meadow by next full moon. The knowledge our profession contains is invaluable, and as we seek to maintain life above all else, we should be sharing what we know as often as possible to combat the unique challenges each herd and individual faces." She finished with a touch of pride, her head lifting in confidence. Old as she may be compared to them, Willow was very much young still for her kind, and as such prone to the pitfalls of youth.
For instance, a wiser horse may not have so willingly spoke of a massive gathering of some of the most valuable horses to herds before so many ears, though listening or not it's likely that if d'Artagnan proved unloyal to the cause he would have whispered the plans anyway. Willow could only rely on the faith and optimism she held in her heart for those that shared her cause and her purpose. The idea that there were healers striving to undo all the justifications of their role with the same knowledge had never crossed her mind. She was well practiced however, and though perhaps gullible in the start, would not be so easily fooled once knee-high in the mud, so to say.
Another member of her fellowship roused himself from his cover then, much to Willow's chagrin, though she could not fully blame the young stud. He was likely anxious and now with three unicorns against three non-warriors of the Foothills, Aaron likely felt his presence needed. Willow could not help but feel as if each side were lining up for battle. She could only hope the others didn't feel similar, and that the vision beheld by their eyes would not drown out the voice drifting to their ears.
So this was the Basin… NADIRA had picked out the Nightshades frame from quite a distance. Even with the depth of vision blurred by the terrain, the stallion’s darker hide made for easy visual. It was once again, quite intimidating to see another large canine like she had witnessed in the Throat. Here, she wasn’t quite sure she was as comfortable with such a companion in their presence. She had never been one for dogs… They held an unpleasant nightmare within her, from her years as a mortal girl. And being in Helovia, with the atmosphere still heavier in her favor of survival, she still had to force herself to swallow.
She wished not to be rude, in any case, and could read that stallion enough to know he could care less about her name, but was more concerned what her position was. She only nodded, dipping her façade slightly in respect. She hoped he would take it as a neutral greeting, for that is what it precisely was. She was mainly there as a peacekeeper than anything else on this particular venture. She was no bodyguard, but she couldn’t exactly admit she was there just as an apprentice to Willow either. She was more doing double duty this time. And that had been her intent along, from day one of their travels.
Next, Arg arrived. She smiled subtly, more to herself. He was a dear sweetie. Harmless, unless otherwise provoked, she was certain. Wouldn’t hurt a fly, she could sense and see that. But she couldn’t exactly say the same for herself. The next two creatures to present themselves, made this gathering the largest yet, and NADIRA looked to Willow to see her reaction. She seemed pretty calm on the outside, but the bloodless mare could sense her uneasiness. It was the only time she could really feel something, a sensation slightly warm within, and it did not permeate the air.
And then there was Aaron. If there was to be a bodyguard, it would be him. She didn’t know if acknowledging her herd mates would do harm or good. And so she choose to respectfully keep her focus on the members of the Basin, greeting them all with a formal dip of her crown, hoping to represent a neutral symbol among them all. She chose not to speak, as she could see it would more than likely only harm Willow’s intention of hopefully inviting them to gather with the other healers, medics, and doctors.
Thoughts || Normal Post || "Previous Speech" || "I am talking."
See the life I've had
Can make a good man
Turn bad
It wasn't long before the shade realized that there were more than just himself and the two trespassers. A pointed tail whipped and Aramis let out a rather puppyish growl, little hairs forming heckles along his dark back, a button nose scenting the nearing bare head. d'Artagnan glowered, he recognized this one when he had gone to help the child recruit Arah, the shade believed he had christened him 'fat boy' that day. The stallion bounced in alongside his pale sister and d'Artagnan nodded in satisfaction, for once, he was proud in his naming. He offered an absent nod of welcome to Arah, it figured a minion of Faelene would be here, observing proceedings she would most likely report back to the Thief later. Arah was a little too 'nice' for the shade to really appreciate her, that kind of sentiment was completely lost on him, it pleased him however to have an ally by his side. So it was that his grimacing smile widened into one of comradely when Mauja appeared, returning the bump of friendship whilst Aramis found his way to the Frostheart's feathered feet again. Attempting to bat the hair this way and that with growing paws.
It was then that d'Artagnan's attention turned to Aaron. Eyes widened in surprise and he let out a gruff, mocking laugh. "What's this? Am I that frightening that you had to bring your own personal escort?!" The mirth filled his eyes, oh he was enjoying this too much and smirked at Aaron. He never thought that child would show his face here again, foolishly brave, and a pup like his own by his side. d'Artagnan had to aknowledge the poor soul, there was some ability there, yet he could of sworn before that he was apart of the Worlds Edge herd. So what was he doing here with the Foothills healer? The Nightshade's interest was piqued but not really for the right reasons. Blood stained ears twitched and in he drank the words of Willow.
The elderly tree seemed to want a get together of healers, her speech was quite eloquently put and to any other would have endeared them to attend such a meeting. d'Artagnan, on the other hand, had no interest in a meeting of healers, he couldn't imagine anything more boring or pointless. Though he wanted to laugh away and send the buffoons of the Foothills on their way, d'Artagnan forced himself to consider the rules of the Basin herd and control the part of him that wanted to run them off. He looked at Nadira, the horn that protruded from her head demanded that he respect her but the others he could regard as trespassers accept from the one conundrum. What the hell was Willow?! Psyche never mentioned talking trees.
"I'm not interested in your meeting, our reasons for being healers couldn't be further apart from each other. The knowledge I have will be passed on but only to those of my own choosing and of whom I trust. I have all I need to serve this herd." The Nightshade was actually quite surprised he was even told about something like this. On the other hand, if it was a poison meeting she was inviting him to then he would have been more than happy to oblige. Think of all the carnage he could of created. "Leave now, be thankful to your herd mate who bares a horn, a fellow sister demands our respect but don't test our patience. Maybe you'll have better luck with my successor." He rather laughed through the latter part.
Dual coloured gaze rested on the intruders then, an expectant gaze as he watched and waited for them to leave, dangerously flickering for it they didn't. They were on the Basin borders, and that was as far as the shade wanted them to go.
This meeting was to become the biggest amusement party Arah had been apart of so far. Her party only consisted of herself and the Time Mender. While the other party had, Willow, the hybrid tree/horse, the other unicorn and the Equine Argetlam. Oh, for the phantom's eyes this was all one big joke, yes she was nice, but this was a complete waste of her time. She had come to realise this when Willow spoke of her reason for being present in their home. Still, after learning her lesson before, she remained to the back and as silent as a watchful hawk. She was learning everything she needed just by listening anyway. Her eyes remained on Willow the...what ever the heck she was. Being a silent shadow gave Arah the time to record everything that was happening in order for her to report back to Faelene. This was far too interesting for the thief not to know about it. But as her feet began to freeze on the frozen ground, she was actually becoming quickly bored with Willow. Didn't she realise that the chances of her getting the Time Mender to share his knowledge and listen to others drone on and on about what they knew where extremely minimal? Her eyes noticed, next, the regal and beautiful owl as it soared down near Willow's tree. Her eyes followed it's decent, a squeal from what one would assume was Willow's minion, sent Arah's facial expression into a frown. Who did the owl belong too? Then the timely arrival of Mauja. She bowed her crested head towards the Frosted ex-King, a sign of absolute respect. So, the owl was his, of course she should have realised. However the arrival of Mauja set a small smile was perched on the end of her soft lips. 'Now these guys are in trouble' she thought to herself.
"What's this? Am I that frightening that you had to bring your own personal escort?!" said d'Artagnan, Arah could hear the slight mirth in his tone. 'Yes, they were foolish to come here.' Then the realisation hit her. 'They are scared of everyone that resides in the basin.' She moved closer to study the newer arrival. He did not say anything but Arah could tell her was here for the healers protection. Her eyes now remained on the stallion for a while, staring was rude but she was curious as too how this one stallion would hold up the fort before the rest of the party's protection showed up...should this meeting turn sour. She didn't think Argetlam was a fighter, or that he had much practise. Still looks and personalities could be deceiving. She was a prime example after all.
"I'm not interested in your meeting, our reasons for being healers couldn't be further apart from each other. The knowledge I have will be passed on but only to those of my own choosing and of whom I trust. I have all I need to serve this herd." She now glanced at the Time Mender, he had, as she expected, declined the healer's invitation. She had now moved up so she stood on d'Artagnan other side. Her eyes back on Willow not expected much more to happen.
"Leave now, be thankful to your herd mate who bares a horn, a fellow sister demands our respect but don't test our patience. Maybe you'll have better luck with my successor." He rather laughed through the latter part, Arah couldn't help it. A slight chuckle slipped through her lips as well. Oh yes, d'Artagnan could be rather witty when he chose to be. "I would take my brother's advice." She added, looking into each of their faces, "Leave now." She greeted silence again this time her eyes rested on Willow, hoping she would pick up the hint. Nobody wanted them here, they didn't want to be here. They wouldn't want to meet Psyche.
The only intelligent thing to do was to walk away.
Haunted by my eyes, the way they hold your attention even in the loudest silences. Notes;
Words; 573 [not including other character quotes]
Tag; everyone.
And I ain't afraid to die, I’m afraid of going to hell.
✽ Force and magic permitted. ✽
✽ No fatal or permanent damage. ✽
✽ Please only tag in opening posts. ✽
Imi, if you have any concerns about how I portrayed Aramis and Mauja's feet, let me know and I'll edit. <3
At least d'Artagnan did not bark (with a grin) at him and tell him to get his silly, white butt out of a "healer's meeting". Not that he'd expected him to — the Doctor seemed to enjoy having Mauja around, but often those friendly little quips slipped out of their mouths. Perhaps now was too serious a time, and after all, he hadn't said anything himself, just touched, which could convey a lot more than words. Irma, who had an excellent aerial view of what was going on, sent him an almost overwhelming amount of sadistic mirth, which seriously threatened to break his impassive face into a rather menacing grin. He did not want to give them all the impression that he was a murderous lunatic, regardless of whether or not there was truth in the notion. Keep a hold of his expressions he merely flicked his tail to release the pent-up energy, and barely had he settled that Aramis came bounding over. The pup seemed to have a love for his feet, batting at them with large paws and blunt claws, chasing the movement of his long hairs. Giving a sort of short snort of a half-laugh, he raised one foot gingerly, waving it a bit to and fro as he felt the pup's shape chase it excitedly, paws and teeth snapping at the fluffy mess. It was rather endearing, though he had not eyes to spare for the spectacle, as his attention was glued upon the Foothills rabble.
Irma's urgent call for attention glazed his eyes over for a moment, as his mind saw the shape of someone else disentangling from the rocky mountainside; he knew that broad, white back, the patches of brown, the stride. Blinking, Mauja remained rather expressionless, watching them with the curiosity simmering in his eyes but precious little else. Aaron came out of the shadows to stand firmly by what he assumed was his herd-mates, a little scrawny pup by his feet. In contrast to the other three, who had come peaceably, the little dog was growling, his fur on end. Something about it irked Mauja to no end, yet he did not look at it — merely graced Aaron with a fleeting look as Willow stated her cause, relaying plans of a meeting. He'd have to discuss that with someone. Maybe they could learn something useful, if they sent a spy. With his eyes back on the others, and not once glancing towards Aaron's pup, he touched the cold darkness within him, pulling it into the focus of his mind, feeling its chill settle familiarly in his veins and gut. He knew what the draft boy was capable of, in terms of fire, and he did not want to to kill a dog on their doorstep, but the arrogant cur needed a lesson in manners.
With nothing to betray that he was working, Mauja planted little crystal of ice in its bloodstream. They would, hopefully, be small enough to not cut his veins open, but definitely cold enough to be felt, maybe even drop his temperature a degree. With one ear flickering to d'Artagnan's gruff refusal of attending, he waited for the growls to cease, to maybe be replaced with a whine. All the better if he could impress fear on the mongrel when it was young. The Time Mender bade the unwelcome guests leave, backed up by Arah, but Mauja found no reason to speak. Instead, his cool gaze merely intensified as he locked it upon Willow and waited for them to leave, knowing that when they walked away, whenever that was, Irma would swoop by once more before disappearing into the Basin.
.arborun lignea .. .mare. ..23 years. .. .16.3 hands.
For a moment Willow isn't sure she has heard correctly when d'Artagnan speaks. She flicks her ears as if to test them, while the gentle smile on her lips slowly crumbles into confusion and then concern. She cannot seem to understand his implications that as a healer he does not wish to heal, and piece by piece it shatters her naive reality.
Like a fist hitting a mirror, so her psyche gradually splinters.
By the time all three have spoken, Willow's mind had finally clattered to the ground, spearing her heart with every shard of refusal they murmured. What was left was a bare wall and bruised feelings, but with the damage done, she could begin to recover.
Shaking her head roughly, mane whipping either side of her neck, Willow began to retreat. Her movements are cautious, as though anything too sudden might provoke them, or that she may somehow tumble into another rabbit hole and be faced with an even harsher reality than this. She is frightened, but more than that, she is hurt at the rejection. She will not remain her to be wounded though, Ermine's greater sensibility ensures that, his mind like a red flare against herds begging her to run, as are those of the Basin. She glances furtively towards Nadira and the rest as her hooves move delicately back, hoping they know the welcome has been worn as well, and that no battle will be waged.
"Y-y-es" Willow stammers in quiet response, "we will g-go then. S-sorry for the tro-ou-ouble." With a sudden exhale she spun on her haunches and dashed forward through the snow, green eyes wild in white as she glanced back to ensure the rest had followed.
As she runs a shadow descends, white wings lost in the white world - death come from above. Ermine shrills furiously, but is safe in Willow's boughs. She ducks her head, a terrified shriek leaping unbidden from her maw. She bucks defensively, the motion awkward with the tree swaying on her back, but she manages to stay upright.
So hasty and energized is her retreat that she does not stop even when the snow has left the ground. Like thunder she moves over the terrain, a storm relentless, until the ground falls beneath her.
A hidden hole dug in the ground swallows her up, another terrified noise strangling itself from her throat before darkness engulfs her and she falls unconscious.
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