the Rift

[OPEN] Last Sacrifice [[Viewing Thread]]

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

The promise of a hot day was in the air, with the rising humidity and not a cloud in sight there was little hope for a storm to cool down the earth. Through the dense foliage, the lightest touches of day were beginning to seep through. The forest was strange this morning however, it was quiet. Not a single animal called, sang, prowled or stirred. So unusual for a forest that is usually booming with life, only the light breeze that filtered through the trees caused sounds to be heard. What had happened to the life within the forest?

To those who were brave enough to trek into the bizarrely still forest, you will find the silence pressing into your ears. Even the trees seemed to have disappeared into themselves. Eventually one might stumble upon an opening within the forest. It is not a natural clearing, something monstrously huge had done this to the forest.
Do you dare to approach? No. You shouldn't.
The closer you come the louder the breathing becomes, it is the only sound coming from the forest. As you pass the trees and enter the clearing you will behold the most magnificent sight. Clearly the beast has made a crash landing and cleared a good twenty or so trees while doing so, he lays atop the debris, panting from pain.

Over ten meters wide and nearly twice as long danger and nobility simmers around him- his scales glint in the sun that now burns down through the newly created gap in the forest. His great wings are crumpled beside him, blood gently trickles down from one of his nostrils however a grey smoke is still being exhaled from both nostril. Sprawled in all directions are his thick legs, massive claws extend from each toe although most are chipped and one on his back left foot has snapped off. An almighty tail is curved around his body, cuts and grazes cover his body while richly coloured blood decorates his green and bronze scales in splatters. Strapped to one side of his body is a leather bag, clearly it is full to the brim yet with the flap closed it is impossible to see what is carried inside. Bright green eyes are wide open and clearly full of intelligence beyond compare.

Clearly the creature needs help, he is desperately seeking someone to heal him, someone to help him get up. Taking a deep breath and using what really must have been the last of his energy, the dragon lets out a horrendously loud roar. This is enough to scare away the ones he does not wish near him. They scatter, leaving enough distance between him and the four he summoned.

- This is the viewing thread for Last Sacrifice. Your character will not be able to get within ten meters of the dragon or events.

- Posting order is a lie.


Amaris Posts: 299
World's Edge Philosopher atk: 5.5 | def: 8 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16h :: 4 years HP: 70 | Buff: NOVICE
Dramyrth :: Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath & Frost Breath Whit
The dragon-girl knew the call of her species, knew it perhaps better than most ever would. For she had spent months with them, learning with them, knowing their secrets, using their secrets for herself. They were wise beyond any measure, and their strength was formidable. That she shared their blood still amazed her, and yet the golden scales upon her hide announced to the world just how much their blood influenced her physique. From her home within the Throat, the girl was drawn north and east, to lands she had visited fairly regularly - the Deep Forest was a curious realm for her, a land where her mother had once lived before they had invaded the Edge, a land where her mother had proclaimed her love for her father, a land where she had said goodbye to Torasin, where she had met Volterra.. There was something about it that kept drawing her back, and instead of questioning the draw, she simply obeyed it.

This particular pull was stranger still, for it was one she knew, without knowing what it was. Had her father returned?

It was easy enough to spy from above, the damage wrought upon the lands. Amaris could gauge the size of the creature that did it, and her conclusions sent a shock of nerves vibrating through her body. Dragon, she thought with a certainty, and then she saw him, sprawled out and bloody. Fear struck through her as he roared, but it was not the same fear others might have felt. Amaris longed to fly to his side, to comfort him, to call for help and see him rise in all his glory again.

But she was not invited nearer, and the girl knew not to approach a dragon, even a dying one, without invite. With sorrow upon her brow, she landed and watched, her attention keen and her senses afire, as the scene unfolded before her.

bg - table
No need to mirror my post length - I have a horrible case of the rambly writer syndrome!
I like being tagged!
You are always welcome to 'try' and use force/magic on Amaris, but similar to spar posts, leave it to me to decide how the damage is taken please~

Ampere The Mother of Companions Posts: 719
Dragon's Throat Sultana atk: 9 | def: 11 | dam: 4.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14 hh :: 6 years HP: 73 | Buff: DANCE
Kygo :: Green Cheek Conure :: None Blu
With a fire in my bones and the sweet taste of kerosene

She thought of the Moon's outcry and of her wickedness, of the balance she provided and yet the influence and power she wielded. That the Moon was able to control one of them, if not the strongest of them - Gaucho had managed to defeat Ampere despite being blind and emotionally wrecked, as well as inaccurate - it ought to have immobilized Ampere with fear or fury.

Maybe it would have a year or so past, Ampere had been afraid then. She had faced her mortality and found it lacking.
She'd stood up to the plague of the wraiths, and in that moment her strength, was not enough to extinguish them. She had lamented her limits (as Ophelia called them), and in doing so was frozen with fear of reaching them again. So it was when the murders ravaged the land, reminding Ampere of all that she was unable to do.

The very gods which had paralyzed her, woke her up. They had stood with the realm as it lamented the eleventh (and a half) body. They had called out for action, and in response Helovia had done nothing but weep and roar. Even Ampere stood and watched, limp, broken, useless, but listening. Still, what was her might compared to a god's? Hadn't she already matched it against the Earth and the Sun on different occasions, and lost? The deaths were just the Moon's display of force, as equally controlling and unending.

She found her strength inside Gaucho's fire and Mesec's night. She found what it was the god's lacked. She clutched onto it desperately, emboldened by the understanding of her limits, but also her strengths.

The gods were not almighty, they were just stronger, older, larger. They were mortals which had climbed up into the heavens, and as such they carried all the same flaws, the Moon goddess had proved as much.

It was these thoughts that circled Ampere's mind as they stood on the beach, alive with the exhilaration of having having accomplished something. This was the spark that would fully ignite her, leading her from the darkness she had been stumbling through for so long. Just like always though, the victory was brief, the light fading like good weather. She knew it would be so, but she resisted it all the same, as baleful as a child.

As Mesec took to his wings alongside the strangely marked mare, Ampere stared and watched him go for a moment. Partially she was dumbfounded by the abruptness of it, but swift enough she was angry and equally so, curious. Scattering sand the blue pegasus left behind the waves of the peaceful place where justice had been served, pursuing the son of darkness and wind, though she didn't know to what end

Blue eyes swept over the ruined forest that opened up beneath her legs, seized by the magnitude of it. Inevitably her gaze traveled to the hulking beast, and beside it, the same four that had gathered around the first murder, and had drifted with the last. Well, at least three of them had, the fourth having been the last corpse to fall by the hand of the Moon. There was four here now though - the girl from the beach. Even as she asked herself who that girl was, Ampere felt she already knew, even as she had known when they all stood over Vesta's corpse.

They were the children of the gods.

Perturbed by the realization of this, and equally by the destruction that she saw and felt, Ampere swerved off to the side and landed in one of the trees that had not been mangled. Quietly she observed what would unfold, and watched for who she assumed, was her daughter.


Tag me only if starting a new thread.
Magic or force permitted any time, aside from death.

d'Artagnan the Nightshade Posts: 364
Aurora Basin General atk: 6 | def: 9 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17hh :: 12 HP: 68.5 | Buff: ENDURE
Aramis :: Common Hellhound :: Hellfire & Superspeed imi

d'Artagnan the Nightshade</style>
                                                                                               Death will know your name.</style>
The Deep Forest was rather haunting and miserable most days, so d’Artagnan had decided, but today was different for some reason. The shade watched Aramis with interest as the hound crept through the woodland as if something was going to jump out at him. "What is it?" The Doctor asked, his voice almost sounded like he was complaining and quite bored of waiting for the dog to give some sort of clue as to why he was acting in a such a way. "I don’t know. No life. Not natural" the hellion growled back and the shade frowned, not at all satisfied with the answer. Though the further they travelled the more d’Artagnan began to understand what his bonded meant. As he went along he tried to describe it to himself with difficulty. It was almost as if the woodland was in mourning, either that, or something foul had frightened even the trees. From memory he remembered his travels here, the place had always appeared to hold some ancient history and was scarred by what must have been a wild past. The trees themselves bared old marks and the streams sometimes appeared red. What on earth could silence a forest like that? A forest that held onto its wicked history and made sure all those who passed through felt a little of it.

An opening appears, but not the normal kind like a river passing through, no this was more like something rather large had fallen. "This is wrong. Turn back" Aramis’ snapped into his friend’s mind and d’Artagnan, intrigued, shook his head. "I want to know what it is" he responded as he continued walking and the hellhound fell behind him a little. "Don’t be a fool" the hound knew there was nothing he could say, but the foreboding in his natural instincts made his paws waver. The Doctor was stubborn born and wisdom would do well to touch him, he often wandered into bad situations out of some nosy desire and, most of the time, he regretted it later. So with his same old defiant head he kept moving forward and ignored the plea of his bonded, who warily followed behind.

Soon it was clear to see what had made such a mess and d’Artagnan quickly found he was cursing himself. A dragon! A bloody big one at that too.

Of those gathered he recognized one instantly. He was bigger, more grown up and less coltish than when he’d last saw him. His dark fur and silver accents reminded him of her, the temptress of the night. There wasn’t much about Mesec that was, well, d’Artagnan. Except perhaps his build, his physical makeup was much like the rest of the Nightshade’s brood. A great bellow cut off his thoughts and he stood back, the impact plants the Doctor firmly in his place as he feels a flash of fear. Disgruntled, he stood off to one side and watched the four who lingered near the injured beast whilst Aramis stood ready... Ready to flee that is.

The dog was not quite feeling a fight with a dragon that big.

image credits

my heart’s an endless winter
              filled with rage

Use force at your own peril ;) please tag me!

Erebos Posts: 474
Aurora Basin General atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1hh :: Four HP: 75.5 | Buff: DANCE
Orsino :: Plain Kitsune :: Dark Illusions & Enyo :: Common Griffon :: Draining Clutch Heather

The quiet interludes of the Deep Forest left him insatiably curious, embarking and endeavoring and craving, a harpooned, avaricious cretin, wandering deeper into the morning snippets and the covetous copse. Had he not been within the boundaries after the Raven’s intriguing anomalies, he wouldn’t have been in the midst and mist at all, leaping and soaring into other ramparts and enigmas, but the tremor of a familiar scent, Aithniel surged into his psyche – tracing over her presence, her being, fluttering and chasing the wind. Perhaps he wanted to sketch over their old patterns, invite her to another grand adventure, infiltrate one more herd under guises of fake names and masquerading tales, yearning for yesteryear’s escapades, hoping, praying, seeking out guidance from the folds of her disappearance. Too immersed, too occupied, by the notion of finding her, of having one more conversation of strength, of power, of well-wishes and hopes and dreams, he didn’t notice the alarming quiet, the strange, apprehensive coil curled amidst the trees. Only as he continued wandering, only as he manifested glory in the thoughts and sanction of the girl’s appearance (there, surely her, a bright glimmer of gold and ivory in the blinding slate of trees), did he realize what he’d nearly stumbled into.

A dragon, massive and unwinding, a magnificent beast he thought that lurked between the Throat’s cliffs, that flew across valleys and breathed fire across empires and sovereigns, was sunken, collapsed, in between the folds of clearings. What had felled such a strong creature? What had caused its collapse (was there a devilish barb out there, mightier than this behemoth?)? What had seized its strength? The little scion, the brave prince, was frozen and paralyzed with sudden convolutions: eyes widened, features audacious and emboldened, heart pounding, gallant strides incapable of any more movement. He couldn’t reach across the void, odd, alarming, but could see beyond the realm, watch the motion and upheaval of others; blessed, anointed, consecrated creatures, all of them brilliant and christened (the girl with no name, sometimes a raven, sometimes pronged, his friend, a filly on fire, two others manifested in regality, in piety). Never had he felt so lowly, so out of place, so out of touch – with nothing to offer, nothing to bestow. He could only be a witness as they flickered and sparked in their attempts to assuage the monster, the demon, the dragon, staring along the veil. Erebos wanted to shout something, proffer encouragement, insight an idea, provoke assistance, but naught flowed, and he maneuvered towards the Doctor and his companion, suddenly aware for all of his gifts, for all of his talents, there were some beings he wouldn’t be able to match. Sometimes a prince was just a prince, a head with an empty, heavy crown.

Image Credits

Maren the Crownless Posts: 264
Outcast atk: 5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 6
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.0 :: 6 HP: 70 | Buff: NOVICE
Mr. Teatime :: Siberian Tiger :: Sing Yewrezz

An almighty crash had drilled through her ears, shaken the ground almost so much like an earthquake that for a moment she feared that this would be the last day of the earth. But the land had not split and whatever it had been, the sounds had slowly faded, leaving only a cloud falling down with a blanket of dust over the forest; and the silence within a silence.

The tigermare stood still, looking up to the dusty sky and ringlets of smoke. Fire? She swallowed the empty feeling of her unknowings and then turned her still body into movement. With care the tigermare moved herself to a higher ground; a hill to oversee. Halfway up a screaming sound attempted to shatter the eardrums of the disciple. She cringed, but did not look back until she had reached a place to stand still and look past the vague blurs she had let in into her curious sight.

Something had descended, and it was an angel nor a god.

Or perhaps he was some kind of god, perhaps. Framed by debris, broken wood and smoke a dragon the size of a small island lay breathing loudly and bleeding in the dusty clouds. Huge and untouchable by those other than a few that could - he was dying. But if he was not divine, why would he only let those four half-holy souls be at his side; allowing them to heal and protect.

So she let herself sit in the grasses of summer on the hilltop, overlooking the scene; she lay herself down with a feeling of powerlessness agonizing her own soul. She would not interrupt whatever holy business, divine mission or godly task-force was going about and doing what the monstrous dragon quested them to while humorless minions plagued him.

Worry for the ones protecting dripped into the glitters of her eyes as she let her alabaster head rest on her front legs. She could not let go of the question why the God looked like he was dying, for were Gods not the only ones meant to be immortal? But if he was no God, why only let the daughters and the son of the Gods help? Was it simply the dragon’s way of being sure he would leave this world in peace? Or was it a distrust in those mortal; a sign to them that they were aspiring to things they didn't deserve.

The winds took the sounds from the battlefield and the answers to her question along with it as it brushed through the grasses and her long ivory mane as it caressed her cheek. Whatever the demi-gods were protecting - He is no god.


Please tag me 

Forum Jump:

RPGfix Equi-venture