the Rift


Random Event Posts: 1,286
Helovian Ancient
Stallion :: Equine :: ::

When the darkness creeps into the edges of your consciousness, at first you do not notice. The hint of fear in your heart is easily dismissed as nonsense as your rational mind tells you "there's no such thing!" But the shadow looms ever closer, whispering and dancing in sides of your vision, just to where you cannot see.

You turn your head, sharply, and see nothing.

It taunts you, haunts your eyes and mind until you jump at the slightest sound and gasp at the roots grabbing your hooves in this god forsaken marsh. You try and tell yourself that the dead are dead here, that the looming darkness and beating of your heart is silly!

Perhaps that rationality will be your undoing. For the creatures that loom here, the plague wind that rises is far more foul that you could imagine. A conscienceless entity, designed from the souls of the dead, moves across the waters, disturbing what lays buried beneath.

A warning lingers in the back of your mind, yelling until it comes to the forefront.


Heed this warning, for the consequences of staying are more frightening that any that your mind can conjure.

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Welcome to Helovia's Darkest Hour

Tamme the Tempting Posts: 140
Mare :: Other :: 2 :: 2 HP: 9001 | Buff: Admin
Bump :3 May way to stop making new threads and pay attention. Consequences are not good.

Quilyan Posts: 206
Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 16.2 hh :: 10 (ages in Orangemoon) HP: 62.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Zarina :: Pygmy Marmoset :: Quantum Leap ChaoticMelodies

But when his heart was lifted up, and his mind hardened in pride...
...he was deposed from his kingly throne, and they took his glory from him.

The deposed prince soars through the evening sky easily, the year's last warm thermals holding him aloft. It is easy to glide across the terrain this way, and so much less straining than it would have been to run. He has always preferred flying to walking, perhaps because it reminded him of his heritage. In Th'orqui, most of the royal family and the courtiers had been pegasi; wings were a mark of rank, not necessarily by choice, but by happenstance. The lower nobles and merchants had been primarily unicorns, and equines made up the lower classes. There were some that did not fit these molds, of course - his favorite lady-in-waiting to flirt with had been equine, after all - but he could not recall ever meeting one of the Family without wings, nor could he remember seeing a slave that was not an equine. Some things simply were, and there was nothing he could do about that.

Regardless of reasoning, he loves to fly. As though to prove it, he twirls a tight spiral in midair, earning a hiss of discontent from his companion, Zarina, who grumbles menacingly as her center of gravity shifts and she is forced to grab onto his mane. The prince chuckles, much to Zarina's dismay. She is quite convinced that he should find her much more menacing than he often seems to. You lose me, Lady angry. The thought sobers the smirking stallion. If Zarina were to fall, Resplendence would have his head. He sighs heavily. "You never let me have any fun," he says to no one in particular, and banks to the right to head for home.

A creeping movement catches his eye, and he turns his head only to find that nothing is there. Still, a rather menacing feeling begins to rise in his breast, and with a frown he pushes himself a bit faster, flaps his wings a bit harder. The air around him seems to crackle, almost as though he is flying into a storm - but the air is clear of even the smallest drop of rain. A light sweat breaks out across his withers. Below, he notices a swirling mass of darkness - but it can't be alive, can it? It must simply be the result of a sunset. As the darkness swallows the Marsh, the stallion streaks for home. If this is danger, the Edge must know.

[W/C | ---]
Walk walk walk.
Talk talk talk.
Think think think. |

Please tag Quilyan in all replies.
Use of force and/or magic (with the exception of death) is allowed at all times.

Want to plot with Quilyan? Visit his plot page here!

Déodat Posts: 174
Absent Abyss atk: 3.5 | def: 10 | dam: 7
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17 hands :: 12 HP: 67.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Odette :: White German Shepherd :: None Minx

The Blood Prince wasn’t sure what drew him from the cold north. Maybe he felt the need to shift the scenery, whatever the reason it wasn’t of any importance. There was something malevolent and foul about the marsh. Death polluted the air and he looked about, unsure as to why anyone would even step foot into such a place. Yet here he was, wandering about far out of the reach of the mountains to the north. Coming here was a mistake it seemed, especially since something about the place seemed incredibly off. A snort escaped from Déodat’s nostrils as he looked about.

Something about this place was beginning to seem more and more off. Despite the death that hung in the air, something from hell itself was in the air. There wasn’t any way he could describe the pit he felt in his stomach. Another scent filled his nostrils, and he moved toward it with as silent of a step as he could muster. Before him stood a skyrat, his lip curled and disgust. For a moment he considered going after the disgusting thing, before his mind was made up though, the winged monster fled. What had caused the coward to run? It wouldn’t take long for Déodat to find out. Every fiber of his being screamed for him to run, and he fought with it for a very long moment. A bit of disappointment washed over him as he creature ran, there would be no pursuit. The Blood Prince continued on his way, delving deeper into the grips of the marsh. It seemed as though the very scenery was mocking and laughing at him. What a preposterous thought!

There was a shape looming to the left of him. His head snapped in that direction and his eyes narrowed. Was it just a mind trick? Or was whatever he thought he saw a sign of what the mongrel had run from? This wasn’t natural, no, a very supernatural phenomenon was going on here. Then he saw it, what precisely the supposed coward had fled from. At his feet darkness pooled.

This was unlike anything Déodat had ever seen. Instinct got the best of him and he backed away from the spot. The stallion turned and he ran, oh how he ran. The Plague needed to know. Whatever was brewing up in the darkness of this place could very well effect his home, even if they lived miles away from this place. This evil could very well play to their advantage should it spread, at the same time, it very well could destroy them as well. Déodat wouldn’t risk the possibility of this phenomenon not being relayed to his superiors. Something insidious was beginning, he could feel it within his bones.

"Speech speech speech"

image credits
[Image: QV8O7HU.gif]
Cut from the cloth, of a flag that
Bears the name of "Battle Born"
con by aihnna@dA

Mesec the Nightwind Posts: 476
World's Edge Glazier atk: 5.5 | def: 9 | dam: 5
Stallion :: Tribrid :: 16.3hh :: 7 years old HP: 76 | Buff: NOVICE
Lucius :: Royal Zephyr :: Roc & Lyra :: Common Kitsune :: Dreams Sarah


Once again I found myself away from the protective boughs of the Foothills, a lone wanderer with no true purpose for the miles he walked. I had begun to wonder some time ago what drove me to walk from the Foothills so often, for I did truly love those who called it home and had welcomed me so openly when I sought acceptence at Ophelia's side. But with my pale foster mother of sorts gone as well as Roskuld and Hototo gone, did I really belong there anymore? I'd not seen Ophelia since before her departure, nor Hototo, and my run-in with Roskuld in Tallsun was hardly a reunion. I missed them all dearly and wished nothing more than to have them back, but did they wish for the same? Surely they were off to bigger and better things, but what of I? The son of the Moon, and here I was walking with my head down low and nothing better to do but waste time.

The ground changed beneath my feet as the thought left my head, the terrain now soggy and cool, sucking, squelching and popping with every step. For a moment I came to a halt, the mud taking the time to slowly encase my hooves in a meager attempt to hold me where I stood. To have reached the marsh, I must have been gone for longer than I previously thought. My chest warbled in guilt; what if the Foothills had come under attack in my absence, and I was a blind fool to it? What if they needed me and I was not there to provide myself?

Out of nowhere, my worry for the Foothills vanished all at once in the form of a painted stag streaking through the sky away from the marsh, and then another, darker painted stallion darting away from the marsh, leaving it far behind him. "Hey!" I called out, hoping that one of them would hear and find it in themselves to stop, but it seemed I had spoken up too late. Taking a deep breath I turned my head back forward, weighing my options for a moment before I pulled a hoof free from the mud and started forward. Of course I was quite frightened by the way the two painted studs had fled from this place, for it showed in my wide eyes and apprehensive movements as I drew ever closer to the marsh, but I was driven to find what lurked within the shadows I held so dearly.

Not far into my approach, a deep unsettling could be felt unfolding within my chest. I knew it was my body telling me to turn tail and get out of here, but my mind told me it was only from seeing the other two flee in such a mad panic. It was easy enough to dismiss and carry on. But as I ventured deeper and the trees soon began to tower over me, the corners of my vision are taken over my pure black darkness. Instinct snapped my head to the side, for surely somebody had snuck up on me and had gotten much too close, but... there wasn't a soul to be seen. One ear flicks back in contemplation as my mind cranks, trying to decipher if this was all in my head or just a trick of the marsh. I knew that I shouldn't be afraid of the shadow and dark, for they are mine to command and nurture, not to drive me away.

Stubbornly I went on, but only a step or two later, the darkness returned to the corners of my vision. Rather than snap my neck one way or the other, I come to a standstill, almost challenging whatever this was to stop hiding and show itself. One uncomfortable second passed, another, then another, before I slowly turned my head to peer at the culprit, but again... there seemed to be nothing. I stood there, in absolute confusion and discomfort.

"Who is ther-" I started, but before I could finish, a great, rogue wind blew from nowhere, whipping at my mind and threatening to push me over onto my side. Bracing myself against it, I admit I had taken a step or two back at the suddenness of it, but it wasn't quite enough to drive me away just yet. Again I opened my mouth to demand answers as to what was going on, but my breath was stolen away when the deeper waters ahead of me began to move in a haste towards me, indicating that I was indeed not alone.

My heart began to race, my nostrils expanding wide in preparation to run; in a single moment, a great sense of foreboding, of evil seemed to surround me, thrusting me backwards several steps until I managed to spin myself around, putting my rear to the unseen entity beneath the waters. The stupefied move almost sent me to the ground, but within three steps I was gone, slipping through a shadowy vortex that would take me to the Foothills.

Whether this danger would be contained only in the marsh or this was a sign of something far greater to come, I needed to warn the others.

"talk talk talk"

[ooc - Please excuse my rustiness!]
  in the corner of a dark room.
breathless-dk, EveLivesey, and Burtn @
please tag Mesec in replies
non-life threatening force is allowed at all times

Tamme the Tempting Posts: 140
Mare :: Other :: 2 :: 2 HP: 9001 | Buff: Admin
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