the Rift


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

Standing above the fallen form of a pegasus known by many as Vesta and others as "her", were the four gods and their progeny. Expressions solemn, the eight spoke, lost in conversation while you approached. Even with the gods there, bright, powerful and glorious, the feeling of darkness, murk and tragedy hung heavily in the air, gripping at your spine in tandem with the bite of the cold winter wind. From the wounds covering her body, she fought back, but it wasn't enough.

She was dead.

Her bloated corpse had open, dead and unseeing eyes, now turning white with film. Mixed within the blood and bone were a few, barely noticeable black hairs. Nothing more. The Goddess of the Moon looked almost bored while the other three looked deeply perturbed. She glanced at the corpse and then to the oncoming crowd, rolling her eyes.

"I suppose they've never seen death before, even though it's just the other half of living..." she hissed beneath her breath.

The God of the Sun shot her an irritated look before shaking his head with weariness. The Earth God stepped forward, addressing all who arrived. "Though death is natural, this death of Vesta has come too soon and far too violently. Bound by laws we made among each other, we cannot interfere, but I can reward anyone who finds her killer." His voice shook like thunder, more powerful than the crashing waves.

"Do what you must. Do what you can.

... But be safe."

A killer is on the loose...
Someone in Helovia has murdered Vesta, and it is up to you to discover her killer. Every now and then clues will be revealed to you. Use these to help you find their identity.

1. Your characters can work in teams of 4 (you can be in more than one team, but your character can only be in one team | you can work by yourself or in pairs)
2. You cannot switch teams
3. Please register your team or yourself by replying to this thread in character. Make an OOC note for which team you are in and your team members
4. An RE will post at certain intervals alerting you to when you can PM the "OFFICIAL" account ONE suspect you think is the killer (per team)
5. Even if you get the answer correct, you will not know until the end of the plot, but it will count toward your SWP Points
6. You may choose not to participate
(Don't worry - the admin have taken special care to randomly select from a list of characters and it will not permanently affect your character if you do not want it to. For now, just play the game!)

THE FIRST CLUE... | Black hairs
I. The first clue, revealed from the death of VESTA are BLACK HAIRS

Adelric Posts: 101
Hidden Account
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 16.3hh :: 1.5 [Birdsong]
Tobias :: Common Cerndyr :: Lamplight Sevin
The half-child continues his search for his mother on the island in the sky, hoping that this place will provide him comfort that was not found elsewhere. At least the weather here is warmer, the frozen air not threatening to turn his very bones to ice. Still, despite the warmer weather, there is still the feeling of something dark here. He cannot figure out exactly what it is, until he stumbles upon the gathering of the gods (and their children, although he does not know this).

From afar, for he dare not wander too close to the gods, he inspects the scene. It is then that the Earth God speaks, and Adelric looks at the hulking beast of a stallion with wide eyes. He does not know this god, only the Sun God, but it is evident by his speech that he is one of them. When the god finally finishes speaking, Adelric knows that this is a mystery for his curious, growing-morbid mind.

Cautiously, he steps forward, the cervid at his side silent as ever but watching the scenery with a gaze just as intense as the half-child’s. The two silently look upon the mare, trying to figure out what might have caused this, but there is little to go on. A bloated body, some black hairs mixed into the blood and gore which he finds to be of little consequence (since she herself has black hairs in various locations of her body). The cervid finds nothing either, and though they search there is no clarity for them here.

The half-child frowns. He will have to find Erebos; together, they can solve this mystery, he is certain.

The Foal Muskateers

We only have what we give.
x - x
Permission granted to use magic or physical force with Adelric at any time for any reason to any degree, with the exception of killing him.

Please do not tag Adelric unless it is in an opening post
Ascended Helovian

Gaucho The Wildfire Posts: 1,004
Deceased atk: 8.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 8
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 17.2 :: 12 HP: 85 | Buff: PINNACLE
Mara :: Black Mamba Snake :: Paralyze & Vorsa :: Plain Zephyr :: Phoenix Odd

The WildFire has taken the Addict's word that the seemingly frostbitten mare will be of use. Similarly, the dark beast has taken Gaucho's word that Cera, the fire child, will similarly add to their cause. It doesn't matter. Together the four of them are well matched.

It is unthinkable that such a thing has occurred, and Gaucho had taken it personally. He remembers well when he first met Vesta in the Threshold. He knew instantly that their souls were akin - a warrior's heart beat within her gray breast just as surely as it did within his own. She would have not gone down without a fight - and it was clear that she hadn't. But what had pulled his winged sister from the skies, and mangled her body in such an almost unrecognizable way?

His mind immediately went to the Wraith invasion of a few seasons ago - was the same darkness the cause now, that it was then? Would the next body to be found going to be murdered? Or deformed, as the wraiths were? Would this darkness simply be content with killing, or would it try to turn the inhabitants of Helovia against each other?

His WAR effort had been too much - it had been too large. He didn't have enough competent leaders to span across the flurry of panic that set in in the caves. He would resign himself to this well chosen three: Cera, Oxy, and Elsa. They would move swiftly and deftly; they would find the murderer, and bring them down.

Vesta would not die in vain.

The melting pot
- Oxy
- Gaucho
- Cera
- Elsa

Image Credits
Please tag me in every post! Magic/Force is allowed on Gaucho at any time.

Archibald the Dauntless Posts: 386
Absent Abyss atk: 6.0 | def: 9.5 | dam: 8
Stallion :: Equine :: 18.3 hh :: 10 years HP: 80 | Buff: SHIELD
Loretta :: Alaskan Malamute :: Time Slip Time
come on like a bloodstained hurricane

The Dauntless and his bitch have seen more death in this land than most. Some of these deaths were even products of their own hooves and claws, ruled by the command of Mandrake. She was an evil soul, now recognized by the pair, and she was no longer here. Archibald had no one to command him but himself, and he would keep it that way forever more. Only the duty of serving his herd and the love he felt towards his mate kept him from being a completely free agent--but the Dauntless would never completely, truly be tied to anyone else's moral compass ever again.

Standing before all the gods of Helovia, the Dauntless looked down at the grey figure. Her body was swelled beyond recognition, and Archibald only knew two grey pegasi, and neither resembled the one before him now. One was Sohalia, a mare he had met so many years ago in the Foothills, and the other was Svetlana the Stormchaser, with her purple wings, and she was as equally as dead as this pegasus now. This one, with her swollen figure and broken bodice seemed to put more of a fight than the Stormchaser had, her body laced with the remnants of her murderer. Black hairs, barely noticeable or distinguishable from the darkness of her legs littered her body, and some around her darkened muzzle. There was no scent to help these gathered around, for the only scent that hung here was death and decay.

Looking up, the Captain's golden eyes found those of the Earth God. The benevolent being had gifted the Dauntless with so much--a reward and testament to Archibald's apparent and incomparable power, he knew--and it was time to repay him in some manner. Archibald would find this murderer and bring justice to Helovia, justice he could only bring with the experience of others to mingle with his own. He knew his team already--at least two of the members. Ktulu would stand alongside him, and he would use her well. Thor, with his cunning mind so obvious from his recent promotion. Finally, he would let Thor chose their last member. Archibald approved, seeing wisdom beyond years in the eyes of Astraea. "We will not fail you." Archibald looked to his left and to his right, nodding to the three that had gathered with him to find the murderer the gods called for.

Archibald the Dauntless
Thor the Gentleheart
Ktulu the Constrictor]

Through the ages of time
I've been known for my hate,
but I'm a dealer of simple choices;
for me it's never too late.

please tag me
Ascended Helovian

Ophelia the Amaranthine Posts: 701
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16.0 hh :: 6 Years HP: 77 | Buff: BULK
Tinek :: Royal Silver Dragon :: Frost Breath & Shock Breath Tamme

The first time not traveling alone had been a beautiful experience, and she made her way to the Veins of the Gods, stepping and waiting for a cloud to carry her up. She was unafraid, unhesitating as white swept her upwards, and once on the emerald grass, she walked toward the center, following her heart. Her strange, dual colored eyes swept over the scene, seeing first the four glorious figures standing together. The last time she had seen them all at the same time, they had jumped into a swirling, black portal, so she slowly crept forward.

The scent of death hit her nostrils. Putrefaction was not something she was ready to smell again, and she closed her eyes tightly, holding her breath. Memories of her mother came flooding back, her dead body holding no dignity of what she had been. Carefully, she opened her eyes again, seeing a silver and black pegasus laying on the ground, bloody, beaten. Her eyes took in the scene in flawless clarity, able to remember even the most minute of clues.

Ophelia's gaze lifted to see the God of Time and Roskuld, her heart going out to both, but the God of the Sun called her gaze this time. He looked so broken, lonely, but she saw him standing there with whom she assumed was his daughter. She would not interfere. Instead, she listened to the God of the Earth, wondering what murderer in Helovia could go so unnoticed by their powers. Certainly whoever it was had to have some help.

The pale princess bowed her head. "We will do our best to uncover the perpetrator of this heinous crime."

This must have been what the vision in the Deep Forest had meant. The bloated pegasus was this mare, and the dead fish had only been telling her what had already happened. She was too late, far too late. Ophelia's troubled gaze looked over the body once more, seeing black hairs on the body that were not from the mare herself. Was this something left behind by the killer?

Torleik the Bloodskald
Ophelia the Forsaken

Heartstrings Come Undone
You know I'm trying to believe that you're never gonna leave...
Art by: veradaine @ DA

Undertow has come to take me. Guided by the blazing sun. Look at everything around us. Look at everything we've done.
Please. Anyone. I don't think I can save myself. I'm drowning.

Please tag me in every response!

Tandavi The Fire Dancer Posts: 245
World's Edge Nurse atk: 6.5 | def: 9 | dam: 4
Mare :: Equine :: 16.1 :: 5 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Natraj :: Plain Kitsune :: Fire Charks

i'll light a fire in your new shoes</style>

There is so much darkness, and so much death.

The form of the fallen pegasus is untouched yet broken, bloated and putrid and macabre and dead. Black eyes look over the scene, and the girl swallows bile and repulsion and hate. Copper child has never seen death before, not up close, not like this. Though life has fallen to Natraj's paws, it is small and simple and for a cause; even the vulpine is appalled by this murder, lingering near her golden hinds, ears pressed down and body still.

What purpose could there be in the grey mare's death? What reasoning behind such senseless hate? Black eyes ache to look away, to hide from this first taste of mortality and its flaws; but the girl holds true, endless gaze trained upon the rotting corpse. She wonders who the stranger was, what was her name and who were her friends? She wonders if she was loved, or loathed; if her memory will be cherished or forgotten on the wind. Perhaps this mare was a mother, or perhaps she was a fiend- or perhaps, indeed, she was both. Now nothing was left of her to judge, nothing but a name spoken by the Earth.

At last she lets herself look away, attention shifting to the celestial audience. Moon-slashed face turns to the assembled Gods and their progeny, recognition bright for all pairs but one. She shies away from Mesec and the Moon, offers a quiet nod to Hototo and the Earth, longs for the warmth of Aithniel and the Sun, and regards with caution the Time Lord and his child. She had not known the desert babe to be the daughter of her God and Light; the knowledge makes her uneasy and aware of how she failed. Will she lose the favor of the one bright thing she regards, a cost for her sins and a price for her naivete? She thinks she deserves to, but she prays she will not.

Attention falters and ears pick up, taking in the voice of the Earth. She thinks the words are for her alone; they strike her, filling her breast with harsh resolve. Yes, of course they must find the cause. Vesta's death brings an end to one life, but there is somebody out there who must be judged, a darkness to vanquish and a battle to fight. Whoever did this deserves not to go free, and perhaps in finding them she can prove herself, can regain the regard of deities lost. This, she decides, is an ample reward. It ignites a purpose within her soul, stubborn determination lining her cheeks.

And she does not have to do it alone. Caneo, she knows, is not far away, and something warm swells within her at the realization that she has a friend to help. She wishes Sacre were here, and Amaris and Lace; but at least, at least, she is not on her own.

In her mind an irked voice resounds. I'm here, too, her brother declares, finally emerged from his hiding place beneath her belly. And Hotot maybe friend. Maybe help. She softens despite herself, and nods, casting a hopeful glance toward the Earth God's son. Maybe she is less alone than she thought. Maybe she has more to protect than just her herd, more to care about than just the world.

Teenage Awkward Ninja Turtles

image by tambako @</style>

o. pixel pony credit to tamme
o. permission granted to use force and magic on Tavi
o. only tag me in opening posts, please!

Serenity Posts: 78
Outcast atk: 4.5 | def: 9 | dam: 5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15 hh :: 7 HP: 60 | Buff: NOVICE
Feel the wind pass through my body, I am one with your soul...

Serenity had been on the island for both patrols with Gaucho and after her spar with the grumpy Torleik. Once again everyone seemed to converge upon one point, so once again, she followed them all. Innocent curiosity sparkled in her eyes like the stars on her body sparkled in the light, and she trotted up, bright, happy and care free.That was until she saw why everyone was here, and her heart fell into her hooves, stomach turning.

On the ground was a dead body. She had never seen a dead body before. It was all bloated, and oh god... oh god that was blood. Serenity felt her head go light, and the world started spinning. She let her head lower to the grass, take long, deep breaths and avoiding looking at the dead mare any more. Her mouth was salivating, and only after a few, solid minutes of vertigo did was she able to slowly lift her head. Wow, she was so close to fainting, and this sight would haunt her forever.

The Earth God spoke, and she chewed on her bottom lip, nervously listening as this wonderful world of Helovia fell apart. Somehow, someway, they were supposed to solve this problem, but how? I mean honestly... What were they supposed to do here? Serenity squinted at the body again, trying not to take in the entire vision. Some black hairs seemed to be stuck in her mouth.... her dead, cold mouth.

Oh god... not again.

She let her head fall to the ground once more as her head became light, and she took deep breaths again. Okay, so she had fought back, right? And bitten some of the mane from her attacker? That meant that her attacker was a real, tangible creature. That.... wasn't as comforting as she had anticipated, actually. Torleik and some white mare were to her left, and she knew that she could go back and get Ampere to help her. Ampere would help her... for sure.



I-mi @ Da

(Please tag me in every post)

Reginald Posts: 165
Hidden Account atk: 4 | def: 7.5 | dam: 7
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 17.1 hh :: 3 HP: 64 | Buff: NOVICE
Ka'Mate :: Harpy Eagle :: None & Ka'Ora :: Harpy Eagle :: None M.E.


The foolishness ends; its allotted moment in time has been rescinded and blown to ash. The dance ends in a flurry of darkness, the sweet, metallic tang of blood and sharpened claw of fear in the breast. The chill lingers; it twists into something evil and alive. Shadows walk; something creeps.

Reginald takes his spider from that place; he snarls something ugly, teeth bared and flashing in the gold of the indomitable isle. Foolishness has its place, and he detests this interruption by something great, powerful, ominous and fleeting from his control. Such is the greatest insult: this wickedness is not born from the flesh of his brain and balls. He snorts; he stalks faster, movements jerky and errant; the spider should do well to keep up.

It is a body they stumble across. No—it is merely a corpse now; he must do well to remember that particular distinction. A blood-soaked corpse and the gaggle of idiots who surround her, mourning something senseless while something stalks in the halls of the gods. He watches for a time, grey eyes glassy, expressionless and pensive. Something excruciating is happening behind those eyes, something momentous and bitter on the tongue; pride unbends within that budding grey chest, as a tiny, fluttering ember attempts to unbend a frozen iron bar. His molars grind; he bites his cheek; his ears lay flat upon his skull, and father’s words—those awful, mediocre, ridiculous words—sound in his mind, an unbidden memory: ”"Dragons are powerful, but they do not replace blood."

“You will stay with me for now,” he says in a low voice, a husky, guttural warble that begins to darken, deepen, broaden with age. He turns away from the spectacle of idiocy; he goes to descend from this cloud of gods and death, and wills his spider to follow in his shadow. He knows who he must find, somewhere scattered in the shadows of the mortal world. There is no time to waste, for something wicked stalks the land free from the Grey-Eye’d prince’s will, and dragons do not replace blood.



You can't escape the wrath of my heart
Beating to your funeral song
All faith is lost for hell regained

by: Kristi Herbert at flickr

--Please tag REGINALD in every reply!

--All force is allowed to be used against this character!

Ascended Helovian

Midas the Gallant Posts: 1,164
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 14.3 hh :: Immortal :: Soul is 7 (FF) Buff: HUNTER
Fina :: Common Zephyr :: Phoenix & Wakiya & Neve :: Common Zephyr :: Arctic Angel
 Break apart the letters and read between the lines</style>

I’d heard of the murder from Drom and she’d heard it from Earth himself. It puzzled me that the gods would be taking note of a mortal death. How many of our kind had suffered and lost life and limb due to the hooves, gashing teeth of murderers. Approaching the site I noted the scents and sights of many individuals whom had taken to visiting as well. The fowl taste of death lingered in the air and caked my tongue. Shoveling my muzzle into the dirt would have been preferable. Maggots had already begun their art of disposing death.

Helovians gathered around the gods. I stiffened and hung back, watching what events would unfold. Words were spoken and one by one those that were present vowed to find answers. Perhaps out of a sense of justice, but more keen on receiving a reward. My eyes scanned the crowd, finding those I knew mingled with those that were unfamiliar.

When a majority had cleared out I stepped forward, nose crinkled and brow tightened as if staring into those ghastly eyes somehow pained me. There was a horrible feeling about this place, the spot where Vesta had died. The gods were sending us on a goose chase, yar, how would we find the killer – if they didn’t even know who the killer was? Earth, among his brothers and sisters were watchers and listeners of this land. How could this have gone unseen by them? Perhaps that was why they were keenly interested in the venture, because it had gone unseen. And they were clueless as to why.



[Image: 5388c9b80fe59]

Resplendence Posts: 466
Hidden Account atk: 4.5 | def: 8 | dam: 5.5
Mare :: Equine :: 14.1 hh :: eight (ages in frostfall) HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
Valiance :: Common Red Dragon :: Fire Breath Abba
it's what you feel but can't articulate outloud

Uncertain limbs had pulled her forward. The masses seemed to have gathered here to take notice of something that had called forth not just those who shared godly blood, but the Gods themselves. She did not have the courage to encircle in closer, though. She stood, far enough away to make out the equines who had appeared but not the ground around them, beneath them. Her eyes strained yet saw nothing that resembled what it was the Earth God spoke of.

So, Valiance took to the skies, wings spread out in elegance as he circled around above the group. A vulture, maybe, but more majestic - like an eagle. He was Resplendence's freedom, this much she knew. Closing her eyes she allowed for him to send her images from above. A pegasus, an unruly death, and what were those? Valiace swung in closer for a moment, not daring to touch the body, before settling back upon Res's withers. "Black... hair?" he said through the bond, struggling to see if that was the right word. And, so, with his talons he pulled up a tuft of hair from her pelt and Res nodded her cranium. Black hair.

If the death was unnatural then someone was out there killing again. Was it the stag who had called a hatred for equines - who had killed Rowan? Even if it wasn't, someone who shouldn't be given the rights of Gods was deciding when to end lives. She wouldn't stand for it. The Edge couldn't possibly stand for it!

With that, she bowed out of the group, knowing she had to find Kahlua and Nayati, they would know what to do. Maybe even the newly promoted Spector, Jahzara. They would want to stand up against these injustices. Wouldn't they?

No one deserved to have their life ended early...

The World's Edge Sweethearts
Credits: Image by Schwartze @ DA
When I'm ready to fall
You're the one always holding me up
With love

Fig Posts: 57
Up For Adoption atk: 3.5 | def: 5.5 | dam: 6
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16 :: 20 HP: 56 | Buff: NOVICE
Beluga :: Common Beluga Leviathan :: Bubble Trap Adoptable

They skirted the village carefully, wisely, avoiding the hustle and the bustle of the tightly gathered Helovians who were still all to alien to find any true comfort beside. As the soft warmth of the sun touched the gentle flutter of hungry, wind-brushed leaves, Fig found herself wondering about them all again, intrigued by the volume of the culture they now witnessed and she was more than overwhelmed by the flurry of activity to behold. So quietly unhurried was the flow of life in Prim'sylvia, that the celebration below (soon she would learn this to be just that), seemed still more violent than a tropical evening storm. With glazed eyes and wary curiosity she watched, and the young Lignea wandered ever so gradually down a track already worn between lush pastures.

Her tread, heavy and slow, avoided the grass - the swishing tufts and the smiling faces of bright yellow dandelions - quite deliberately. It was the principle of her kind to respect always any life surrounding, and she was always careful to uphold a duty of care. That which may have seemed insignificant, or those perhaps overlooked altogether by the creatures of this new world (like the moss softening a stony cliff face or tender ‘shrooms breaking down the fallen elder trees of thousand year old forests), drew her doting attention and she could do naught but cringe when ignorant, uneducated beings ravished the land they were let to dwell upon.

There was so much they needed to learn, and that was one of two reasons that Fig had been sent on this seemingly impossible journey from the safe, tranquil Prim’sylvia.

The plant towering above rocked rhythmically backwards and forwards as her awkward looking body swayed along. She began to hum a soft tune, the spirituality story of whom uplifted her mood immediately, and caused a smile to bloom across slack black lips. The rising cheer though soon faded when she at last came across a group gathered, and her step slowed (if it were possible). They were a strange, surreal bunch – some grand-looking, large and embellished, but Fig was taken aback by one thing they all shared in particular, the overbearing concern and sadness seemingly suspended like a cloud around them. It was written along the lines of their bodies, etched through expressions and pungent, clinging to the air between them.

Naturally her focus was drawn to the greater four amongst them and with a gently discerning eye she discovered the source of the apprehension. Her white blazed face creased with grief instantly and downy ears flattened overhead either of her dark olive tinged eyes. To the centre of their meeting lay the corpse of another similar to them – a person of Helovia, and perhaps one that had been cherished dearly in life. This was morbid to say the least.

Quickly she blinked, turning her face both respectfully and glumly from the scene. It was almost more than she could bear to see death, so crude and violent, when all she knew (all that she had ever been subject to) was the peace and harmony of the Lignea.

There was a terrible sound then, like the fury of a cyclone unleashed, and the leaves sprawled throughout the canopy above her shook with fear. It was the voice of a towering stallion, his appearance, and stance – the very essence of him, exaggerated beyond many of the others. Fig’s eyes flung towards him involuntarily, and she listened carefully to all which he boomed. The revelation of the death before her, the murder, she could hardly believe, but there was no jest in the expressions nearby. Suddenly she found herself praying, desperate and confused – entirely unsure if she wanted to continue this perilous, infinite task set before her. ‘Corocottas, Nepenthes... can you hear me, please hear my prayer! I am so afraid now... These folk are strange, and cruel; they kill each other, our brothers and sisters of the earth, the grass, the flowers, and the trees! However can they be helped by humble me?

Help them, please!

Help us...’

The young Lignea turned, the grief wrought through her expressive, helpless facade. She knew that they could not forsake this request (no matter who else had pledged the same); Fig thought that they could not explore this crime alone though. “We need help...” she mumbled anxiously, unsure where even they should begin to search, and (although against the will of her trembling heart), she glanced back one last time. Again the tortured limp corpse smothered her senses and she was filled with a terrible feeling, foreboding; and she drew a long breath as she took a final moment to examine it a little closer. There were a few fine hairs mixed into the blood staining bone and hide, and should she not have taken that brief pause, breath held tight, heart pounding, they might have missed the clue altogether.

As swiftly as her tree laden body could manage then, she slipped from her position by the back of the group to reflect and recover.

Four Strangers
Plots | Absences | Wishlist
Please tag me in openers and spars
Permission for all except death 
(no need to ask)

Lena the Songbird Posts: 663
Aurora Basin Time Mender atk: 4 | def: 10.5 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3 :: 6 HP: 69 | Buff: NOVICE
Imogen :: Common Kitsune :: Fire Heather
The world billowed in its colossal form, drenched souls in misery, in agony, in terror, in horror, and they wandered through the carnivorous wake, another set of cogs maneuvering amidst the decadence. She followed the crowd of spectators, the pull of mysteries, the restless contortions of enigmas and torn labyrinths, shaded warrens with only ghastly pinnacles to climb: the gods unveiled more trepidations and fears when a body was unveiled, bloated, no longer shielded by an innocent state, rigor-mortum, decrepit, sullied and dragged from a chasm of living into the unrelenting slash of slaughter. The Songbird shivered, trembled, quivered, released a tremulous breath in the presence of a fallen soul, taken without a chance, without a moment, without an instant, to survive, and she bit back an oath, a promise, a conviction, felt it hasten into her blood. What if there were others, reaching past the folds and hastening execution, maiming, bloodshed? What if they preyed upon more of the innocent, youths, children, the virtuous and divine? What if they were all destined for the gallows, brushing by the killers, the murderers, on a daily basis? Where was morality, and how could they tip the scales in their favor, in their fervor? Lena, valorous and steadfast like so many of the others, would sway and sweep across the lands and attempt to identify the assailant, would attempt to bridge the gaps, would attempt to forge past the indignities, the danger, the treachery, and salvage justice for a beast absconded and removed before their time. Her honeyed gaze, usually luminescent, gilded, brilliant, only dimmed at the notion of a tragic loss, and crossed over to the ebony hairs: the sole evidence of the annihilator. Perhaps, with help, with assistance, they’d be able to track down the seditious exterminator before they claimed another for their darkened halls.

Healers and Thieves

Deimos the Reaper Posts: 527
Deceased atk: 7.0 | def: 12 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1 :: 7 HP: 72.5 | Buff: NUMB
Deaths’ namesake cut a chord across the shallow puffs of clouds and ash without his domination, without his supremacy, without the distinction of his callous, heartless wake, without the entanglement of his beguiling vestige. From a distance amongst the gathered shadows, he watched the din circle and shroud the cold, undone victim, wrapped in the murky doldrums of soulless exploitation, and the notions of inquiry flickered in the nefarious ducts of his mind. Machiavellian regime, a hollowed vessel of intrigue and calculation, hummed a rebellious slant, questioned and queried the unraveling eaves of the murderer’s intentions, of the Gods’ concern, of the wayward waltz they all took, fascinated and depraved. His first notion flew to protection, towards his family, towards his brethren, towards his chilling, glacial palace in the distance, aloof and indifferent. If one was taken, why not another one soon after, corrupting, devouring, swallowing with no grounds, with no purpose, with no motivation other than the victory in slaughter? Even when driving and harpooning his villainy, there were reasons, there were motives, there were means and measures (scraping away the inept, flicking away the ignorant, possessing and controlling the ruins of a city, of a temple, of a guarded gate and leaving it decrepit, ruined, destroyed); but this appeared to be inconsequential, a fallen soul dashed and absconded. Was there one, or more, dancing amongst the mist, devils’ blood cackling in the distance, laughing and mocking with each derisive outcry, false lamentations and requiems pervading the scene? His piercing eyes slid over the occupants, the deities, the idols and artifacts of too many collected souls, and not enough clues to render anything useful beyond the traces of the fallen’s mouth: Black hairs, a signature mark that the victim had at least fought back, had composed the attempt to defend her frame towards the attacker. It wasn’t enough, but it would do for now – he would join amongst his comrades, the fierce, fighting, unrelenting force of his Basin pride, and see what they could make of what the world had tossed before them once more.

Team Indignant
Deimos the Reaper
D’artagnan the Nightshade

Ghost the Cadaverous Posts: 219
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 5.5
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16hh :: 6 years HP: 67 | Buff: ENDURE
Fantôme :: Grey Wolf :: None imi
Dead men tell no tales.

The novelty of her new crown was slowly beginning to wane as duty and responsibility stepped in. She was no longer a dagger to be used when needed and instead she had risen to master. The power she craved, the attention less so, if she could be ruler of nothing but shadow she would jump onto the opportunity in a heartbeat. Alas, she was had claimed her former monarch’s title of Czarina and all of a sudden the world seemed to fall much easier to her feet. Her bodice prickled in excitement now and then, though she knew democracy to be better in practise, her heart viscously grasped the reins that had been thrust before her and she stalked the earth with a growing air of confidence. Time in this light was often short lived; only the relentless and honoured could outlast the ups and downs of running a herd. She wondered if she could manage to be something great.

There was something much more important pressing on her mind, however, as her dark brooding eyes bored into the image before her. Four Gods, immortal beings, stood before a dead corpse whilst the stench of rot and foreboding drifted around like a dense fog that rolled in on a rotten night. The mare who had met her maker looked as if she’d been dead for a while, the stages of decomposition where already clear on her carcass save for the few stray black hairs that seemed to draw ones attention. Ghost found herself agreeing with the words of the Moon which left a sly looking grin on her dark lips as the Earth, her patron Lord, began his own little speech into the task before them. A mystery to solve!

Ghost could feel excitement in her bones! She felt no feelings of revenge for the dead mare that littered the floor, but the prospect of finding her murderer just to solve the crime made her heart quiver quite a bit. Others appeared to mulling over this and some were already on the ball, forming groups or speaking with friends. The Cadaverous thought for a moment, she had not many acquaintances to call upon, but one did not need to know those she worked with in order to succeed. Perhaps she would find her General and the Earth Medic, a warrior whose experience might be handy and a healer who could identify medical issues should the need arise. Maybe others would join too.

The Unorthodox Four
- Ghost
- Kiara
- Vadim
- Rostislav

Let the heat of the sun
Reignite your memory
Because if we just turn and run
Let them fire the gun

❚ Force permitted, just don't kill her :3
❚ Please tag me!
❚ Pixel by Nyte

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

You may still post your team or individually in the future, but this clue would not count toward your score.
Only one individual from each team with team members listed in an OOC note is required to post.
All individuals in a solo team must post individually.

Megaera the Sunspear Posts: 306
Absent Abyss atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 4.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15 h :: 8 [Birdsong] HP: 70 | Buff: NOVICE
Gwaihir :: Golden Eagle :: None Laine
When the young falcon had taken flight from Helovia, it had been in the grip of a darkness that seemed unshakable. The boundaries between life and death had been so distorted by that queer sickness that though Megaera had left with the intention of finding help, her fear of finding only death when she returned had kept the little soldier away for near a year’s time. In returning to Helovia, she had found the darkness dissipated but still, it was not the same land that it once had been.

Swift wings carried her from the Threshold to the Throat. It had been her home before she fled, and she was anxious to earn back place in the herd but even that deepest of desires would have to wait until she knew more of what had changed in Helovia. From the sky, if was horribly plain the even the coastline of her desert home was unrecognizable and perhaps there would be no heard to return to. Further she flew, and came to the place where it was said the Gods roamed, and it held an astonishing sight. Before her floated an island perched perfectly in the clouds. Even Meg, who looked often with a hardened soldier’s eye, was enchanted by the wispy flow of waterfalls and the blush of the blooming trees. Enchanting. Idyllic. Deceptive.

From almost the moment the soldier touched down upon the edge of the floating isle, she knew something must be wrong. A crowd stood, all intent on the same thing, and the hush upon the assembly seemed unnaturally grim. Eager to investigate, Meg picked her way through the crowd, scared legs moving her deftly around to the front. It was had to say what was more astonishing: the body of the mare laid out before the spectators, or the collection of mighty beings that surveyed the scene... Holy hell! seemed to sum it up quite well.

Meg was sure she recognized one of them: the flaming figure of the Sun God could not be mistaken, and three others who had the same otherworldly aura must surely be the Earth, Moon and Spark that completed the quartet of Ancients. Four more there were, the looked on beside the Gods but Meg could not account for their involvement. So transfixed was she, that had any other spoken, she might not have realized, but the mighty rumble of the massive ancient, surely the God of Earth, brok her reverie when he issued his call to action. From all around came answers and she lifted her own voice to join them “As the Gods charge, these actions will not go unpunished in Helovia.”

Helovia may still have some healing to do before it was set to rights, but maybe by returning hear, Meg could help that cause.

CSI: Helovia
- Megaera
- Mesec
- Rhea
- Sacre

be brave and endure
:: permission given for use of magic and force :: please tag Megaera in all posts ::

Merida Posts: 49
Outcast atk: 4.5 | def: 8 | dam: 6
Mare :: Equine :: 16.3 :: Three Years HP: 64 | Buff: NOVICE
Miles :: Common Kitsune :: Dreams Emily
Chase the Wind and Touch the Sky

We've wandered here and at first I do not know why. A small crowd is gathered, and it quickly is realized why I have come. The smell of death is in the air. It hurts my senses, bringing back painful memories. Miles stirs on my backside, moving forward to comfort me. I look to the Goddess of the Moon, patron of my home.... However instead it is the God of the Earth who seems to speak to those gathered. Find out who did this.... Yes.... This mare was not killed like my parents were. She was murdered by someone among us, or some thing maybe. The thought sent chills down my spine.

Who will I seek out? I know few in my herd, maybe some of them. What was the advisors name? Eva? Or something like that? Then there was Cheveyo who had tried to bring me to safety when I first arrived.... But who else could I seek out to help figure this mess out? I looked to Miles before finally speaking. "Justice will come for who or what did this." My voice was much stronger than I felt on the inside, while my belly was doing absolute flips.

My eyes could not leave the body, the gross and mutalated body that lay crumpled on ground. I had to find out who did this, for her sake. Her family, if she had any, deserved to know her ending.... Just like my dam Sakura's family.... If only I could find them and explain...

"talk talk"

Team Mace

x - x

Please Tag Merida in All Posts
Permission granted to use magic or physical force with Merida at any time for any reason to any degree, with the exception of killing her.

Panzram Posts: 64
Hidden Account atk: 4.5 | def: 9 | dam: 6
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17 hands :: 8 Tallsuns HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE

It was as though I was called to these lands for a purpose, though for what I couldn’t figure out just yet. A gathering up ahead caught my attention first, which was quickly followed by the stench of rotting flesh. Death had rolled through here, and it drew me closer with interest. This lands had been so…So boring, nothing seemed to fancy my interests, just a lot of talk and very little action. This, however, was right up my alley. As I pushed my way through the crowd to get a glimpse of the corpse, I relaxed and shifted my weight. Almost every murderer had their own methods, their own calling card if you will. But this was not a recognizable kill to me, created by a stranger. And a damn sloppy one at that.

With mild interest I listened as the Gods began to speak, the corner of my lip pulling into a smirk as I found that I couldn’t help but agree with the Moon Goddess’s words. A Goddess after my own heart, that one was…Just as I was about to turn away from the body, having no interest in such a messy job, I was stopped by the voice of the Earth God. ’I can reward anyone who finds her killer…’ Oh, a reward? That was enough to bring me to look over my shoulder to glance at the body once more.

As I said, every murderer left a calling card. And those black hairs were just part of the puzzle. Perhaps I could figure out who this killer was? After all, there was much more than a reward at stake here. No, this kill meant that there was competition in these lands. I certainly did not want any competition, nor did I want them to kill again before I had the opportunity to make my own mark on Helovia. Granted, a reward would still be nice…I would not be able to do this easily on my own though, I would need to round up some assistance…

The Devil's Harem

Please tag Panzram in first posts only. Violence and magic can be used on him, just please do not kill or permanently injure/maim.

Arah Posts: 343
Outcast atk: 7 | def: 10.5 | dam: 3
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15hh :: 5 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Wynter :: Royal Griffin :: Draining Clutch Frostie

Catch my gaze, I dare you.
The ice from her crown did not melt, the magic that this one item alone welded was amazing. It paled in compare to the grand scheme of things however, it was just an item that did not melt. So what did that make Arah with her healing soul? Was she and Wynter just items in a larger game? So much had become of her only to quickly fall away into nothing. It was not as if there was an unimaginable power that she craved. All the doe wanted was to be remembered. Wynter gave a cry from over head and the doe's attention turned to something that was causing quite a commotion ahead. Her hooves changed direction, angled towards the great gathering of others their forms had yet to take shape with distinct markings of colours. Her curiosity had peaked, for the group before her was immense, so many quickly gathering yet strangely there was not a babble of voices floating over too her. The closer she got the more solemn expressions came into view. Her golden eyes skittered over the others that had gathered; while she recognised most she did not greet them. First she wished to gather some intel, it would be no good to interrogate people when clearly this was brand new news and most seemed as clueless as she felt.

Pushing through a few others to try and see what everyone was looking at, Arah finally stopped dead when her eyes settled on the corpse that had been laid at their feet. The doe found herself standing above the fallen form of a pegasus, waves of disgust rolled through her stomach as she gazed down at the broken body. There was not a doubt in her mind that the pegasus was dead. The bloated corpse had the classic open, dead and unseeing eyes, now turning white with film. While the mare must have fought back at her attacker it had not been enough, a great sadness filled her. The shell had been broken and her soul had been released back into the nether. Ahah studied the the blood and bones, doing her best to keep an expressionless mask on as to hide her disgust. It did not escape the doe's notice that a few, barely noticeable black hairs were intertwined within the body. Winter soared down to study the decomposing body, landing next to her Mistress, the griffin took a rather tentative sniff at the corpse before recoiling. Looking over towards The Gods for instructions, explanations or even support Arah was slightly released to see them looking rather perturbed.

With a voice like thunder, The God of The Earth took charge speaking to the crowd that had gathered. Task task of finding the killer had been passed on to mortals? Very well, she would need to assemble a team. It would not do to work with just other Basiners even though that would be her preference. The doe wanted people from others herds who knew more people and saw different things; the more diverse her team was the better. 'Téigh . Aimsigh daoine eile.' The Griffin was off searching for others to join Arah on her newly accepted quest to find The Murderer of Helovia.

:: Last Minute Madness ::

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. ✽

Ulrik the Engineer Posts: 235
Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.1 hh :: 11 HP: 69.5 | Buff: ENDURE
Kirchoff :: Common Hellhound :: Superspeed Tamme
Each point in space (and time) is associated with a vector that determines what force a moving charge would experience.

Ulrik was still smarting from his spar with Kaj when a commotion caught his attention. With a stressed and pained gait, he trotted to the scene, confused by the action around him. So many seemed to be gathered on this spot, some faces familiar and some of them not. When he finally got close enough to glance at what all the action was about, he frowned. Laying dead on the ground was the abused corpse of a pegasus, and she was surrounded by the gods and what appeared to be their offspring.

His eyes swept over the body with interest, spying some strange hairs among her monochromatic tones. The God of the Earth spoke, and he wondered why they were so upset. The God of the Moon was right. Didn't they kill each other all the time? Even he had killed some foolish mare in a swamp, but he had not left her body so visible and obscenely obvious. This murder seemed different that his holy crusade against the hornless and the winged ones, and he was unsure of why that disturbed him.

Still, being rewarded for solving this crime was impetus enough to give it a shot. He was clever and had the ability to make machines. Kirchoff at his side was also skilled and naturally possessed wolf-like instincts and senses. Others in the Basin would surely want to display their good will, as it seemed more than a few were doing. So, he would try.

There was not much else to see here. With another frown, he turned to leave the scene. He needed a strategy...

The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen...and Bellona

(Please tag me in every post)

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