the Rift

SWP :: What's mine is mine (Part II)

God of the Moon Posts: 236
Helovian Ancient
Mare :: Hybrid :: 15.2hh :: Ageless

The world erupts, as does the Goddess' rage.

She is already aware that many around her will ignore her reason and rationality - that they will lash out with emotion and revenge in their hearts. In this, she isn't wrong. Pulling back immediately, she withholds her magic from those who would use it against her. Attacks from those such as Ktulu and Hotaru are completely ineffective against her, for it is only through the Goddess that their power has efficacy in the first place. Just as she is about to send them all flying to the Steppes as she did with Sialia and Aurelia, Maren's thick fog blankets her svelte form, partially aiding in blocking her from Archibald's attack. However the black giant's pelt finds her own and she is shoved roughly sideways. 

With a hiss, a blast of black wind emanates from her from, roughly shoving her attackers backwards and away from her. She would like to do more, but the effort of veiling and moving the Labyrinth has sapped her strength. The Goddess manages a shaky nod in Maren's direction, but not before stripping away Ophelia's rank magic. She is about to scold the crimson queen for daring to use her gifts against her, w hen all anger towards her begins to dull. Even as Torleik shoves her out of the Goddess' way, her wrath finds no hold. What was it Ophelia had even done in the first place? 

The memory of Ophelia's presence on the Sky Island and her attempted attack just now, are completed erased. Shifting her gaze, the Goddess manages a frown in Hotaru's direction as her body is tousled by her own magic. The Goddess tries to extend a comforting buffet of wind to the pale rose coloured girl to steady her feet. Wolves explode all around, and the Goddess is shocked to see a small pale hybrid creature scuttling away. A bemused smirk parts her lips as she watches Erthe with pride. Her gaze finds the likes of Resplendence and Isopia as well - two who had encountered her under very tense circumstances, and yet they did not move against her. They had their priorities in order. 

Multiple attacks find the wolf and its shadowy compatriots. Gases and acids fill the air, causing burning and coughing and disorientation. The Goddess watches as one of Volterra's earth spikes annihilates a paw, while Isopia's heated-rocks cause burns.  More attacks are successful than those that are not - and before long, only Maren's fog remains: the shadow wolves are gone.

With a wordless cry, the Wolf God falls to the ground, its body oozing from many injuries. The Moon Goddess moves to stand by her morphed-son, head held high. Just as she is about to speak curses and threats to those who attacked her, the wolf's body began to grow and contort - just like Mesec's had moments before. However instead of seamlessly becoming something else, the Wolf began to pull a part. It happened too quickly to fathom - fur and blood and bone began to fuse and meld, creating a hoard of smaller and infinitely faster demi-wolves. With horrendous bodies composed of a multitude of different parts, held together by acid, the demi-wolves began to attack all within their path. 


96 hours to respond. Please include a summary at the bottom of your post!


Lace the Silverthorn Posts: 459
Deceased atk: 5 | def: 9 | dam: 5.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 15.3 hh :: 14 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Fajira :: Plain White Dragon :: Fire Breath Chan
Lace the Silverthorn
It is our actions that define who we are

Chaos. There is no other word for it. Magic hums, throbs and pulsate through the air as fire, mist, shadows and other, less visible forces sizzle every which way. For every attack aimed at the wolf another is sent towards the Goddess, speaking volumes of her place within their hearts. The black sheep, the scapegoat, suddenly turned into a free for all even though she appeared to fight for Helovia. Lace had never had much to do with the Midnight Queen but for the first time he feel genuine sympathy for her. Even those who ought to pay respect and worship as residents in her land are turning against her - and his heart aches, because the feeling of being hated must surely be the same for mortal and immortals alike.

Then again... Immortal? If gods could bleed like this wolf did, then how long would it be before she too perished? Already this giant beast, this foreign, false existence was crumbling beneath the weight of their attacks. Lace found that his aim was true and felt pride surge through him as flames erupted upon the back of the beast. He leaped out of the way to escape a snap from strong jaws, coughing and blinking as foul miasma clogged his airways and made his eyes water, sting, leak...

When he could see again he spared a heartbeat to look out across the battlefield, and his heart skipped beats for every familiar face he saw, battling bravely for a cause unknown. He saw Tandavi, precious, beautiful little Tandavi singe the nose of a shadow-spawn with his own magic and felt his heart nearly burst with pride. There, in the very rear of the pack a silver beast barreled into the fray with fire blazing like a banner from the arched neck - a feline leaping into battle, a leopard with the heart of a lion. But what was Cathun, his son, doing here, why was he fighting, what were they doing letting an untrained youth into the battle?

Lace raged, fumed at the poor leadership within the Throat - or so he assumed at least - as the wolf crumbled, fell, seemed to fade. He blinked the last of the vapors out of his eyes and turned to find the familiar frame of Nyx not too far away, successful in her attack yet... something appeared to be wrong. Had she been hurt?

Then the carcass of the lupus erupted into several smaller wolves, a pack of black monsters that fell over them like a plague. Lace let out a war cry to quell the fear and raced towards his friend, the Iron-hearted, the wingless valkyrie. If she was hurt then he would help her, protect her, and if he could he would help the others too - this was not a battle they could afford to lose, he felt it in his very bones.

He kindled a second sun and this time he sent it up high in the air before letting it explode, hoping that the fire would rain down upon the wolves, shed light amidst the shadows and bright hope, strength and aid to anyone who needed it.

Picture by Vossity

Team Goddess

Lace hurries over to help and protect @Nyx and sends up a second sun, making it explode higher up in the air, hoping that the scattering fire will weaken several wolves.

Mentions Tandavi, Cathun and Nyx.
♦ Permission granted to use magic and violence on Lace and Fajira
♦ Only tag in new threads, spars and if it's urgent
The Store | The Warden

Kalona Posts: 40
Outcast atk: 4 | def: 8.5 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1 :: 3 HP: 66 | Buff: NOVICE

Screams and shouts echoed across the labyrinth giving the whole place a forboding aura of pain and suffering from where the golden stallion stood. Nasty burns stood out along his neck, back and legs from where the winter god's blood had ate away the flesh leaving a whole pattern of pink patches where it was finally trying to heal. That battle had been a mixture of confusion and anger followed by a state of total shock when the reality finally set in. Nothing could have prepared him mentally or physically for the total time warp/flip of worlds thing happened. One minute you were minding your own business and the next well you find yourself vulnerable and exposed surrounded by unfamiliar faces and the Winter God who was literally trying to tear them all to shreds. Talk about something right out of a nightmare!

It had taken much longer than he had anticipated to travel from the middle of nowhere to again the middle of nowhere this time only in a different location. The pain from the burns had slowed him down for the first day or two but finally having arrived he was ready for whatever lay in store this time around. This Helovia that he had heard others mentioning was full of dreaded surprises wasn't it he mused silently as he was yet again caught off guard by the scene already unfolding before his eyes. From what he could tell there had been a whole lotta shit that had gone down before his arrival and now with his presence a whole new load of shit was about to hit the fan. Watching as the half dead wolf, or what he had thought was a wolf, started to contort and twist underneath the Moon Goddess he could not figure out what exactly would be the ideal thing to do. Should he run? Should he jump back into battle? What were they fighting over anyway? What in the hell were those ugly misshapen monstrosities!? 

Stepping forward boldly he made the decision to not turn and run like a coward and face whatever these things were before him. Casting glances between the white Goddess, the funny looking wolves and the rest of the tribe he was still trying to figure out what the hell was happening! If he had to chose between the Moon Goddess and the ugly wolves he would take the wolves for you did not want to mess with those females on any given day ending in y. So technically speaking he would be on her side then... right? Moving over to stand by the others seemingly trying to protect the Goddess he braced himself for whatever shit storm would come next.

Team Goddess/What the hell am I doing!
Arrives late to the party and is totally overwhelmed with the chaos but decides to jump in and do something possibly useful. Would like to stay on the Moon Goddesses good side so opts to try and protect her instead of battling against her. Has no idea who is attacking who at this point so moves over to stand near the Goddess poised to battle once he figures out what is going on.

•• TAGS: •• NOTES: ••

“Just because you call an electric eel a rubber duck doesn't make it a rubber duck, does it? And God help the poor bastard who decides they want to take a bath with the duckie.”
Table by Moonstone Designs

Volterra the Indomitable Posts: 785
Dragon's Throat Sultan atk: 8.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 8.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17'2hh :: 3 HP: 80 | Buff: SENSE
Vérzés :: Common Red Dragon :: Frost Breath & Toxic Breath & Vadir :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath & Shock Breath Snow



Crunch. He collides, and his earth spike explodes beneath the wolf. A guttural groan of pleasure rolls free from his jaws as he makes contact with chest and magic alike, warmth blossoming gleefully in his balls at the success of another vanquished God. Teeth graze his shoulder and leave a burn that will hopefully scar, along with an acute pain that the colt's hedonistic flesh transforms into pleasure. Damn, he nearly pulls an Ode right there and then, but manages to resist the urge that bids his haunches to tremble. Instead he retreats, shoulder burning but triumphant, tail swinging against his sweating flanks. Ha; success is his again. His chest heaves, aching slightly where it slammed into the wolf, and he looks at the carcass - this time, he had better damned well be given a piece of it to keep, or he'll rip some off himself.

But it isn't over - suddenly the body crumbles, and dozens of miniature zombie-wolves pour out of the orginal like poison from a wound. The beast's ears slick and his colossal hooves paw the ground, anticipation flaring within him again. Another battle beckons! This time, his mighty red dragon will not be left out. With an ear-rending screech, the crimson deathbringer flares his wings and swoops, jaws opening to release a tide of below-zero frost breath towards the nearest zombie wolf. The black behemoth feels his dragon's excitement, his bloodlust, and the ache in his loins that is so familiar to the hormone-fuelled yearling; another grunt comes from Volterra's blackened lips, but he knows he has work to do before he and his bonded can revel in their success.

His dragon aims to freeze one of the wolves solid with his breath, then Volterra summons his earth magic again, feeling the strain pull at his muscles the same as if he was attacking with his own body. He commands a spike of earth to erupt beneath the hopefully-frozen wolf, to try and shatter it into hundreds of pieces.

Simultaneously, as he hears the sound of a wolf behind him, he throws his weight onto his forequarters, wincing at the pain in his shoulder and knowing this will have to be his final attack that involves pressure on his injury today; his gigantic, stout hindlegs unfurl and aim a double-barelled kick for the wolf behind him, trying to destroy it with the force of his ire.

image credits


His dragon uses frost breath on one of the wolves to try and freeze it solid, then Volterra tries to erupt another earth spike under it to try and shatter it. Kicks out with his hindlegs at another wolf.

[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far  ]
[ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]

Nyx Posts: 292
Deceased atk: 7.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 6.0
Mare :: Unicorn :: 16hh :: 11 HP: 72 | Buff: SWIFT
Dominus :: White Lion :: None Snow

I just stabbed a wolf in the god-damn lung.

The silver's success is sudden and vociferous; her horn passes through flesh, meat and muscle and into the inner organs beneath. She releases a triumphant bellow, drawing her sword out of the wolf's insides ready to watch it fall and crumble...

But then her face begins to sting. She slams her eyes shut, and manages to get one of them shut just in time to prevent the acid getting in - only the lid burns. But the other eye is not so lucky, and blood splashes directly into it. A screech like a stricken banshee leaves the ironheart's lips as she throws her head back, desperately trying to shake the sting out of her face. "Fuck fuck fuckity fuck-monkeys," she bellows, but swearing is unlikely to have an effect. Agony owns her, and she recoils with a savage hiss, ears flattened, legs quivering. She opens the unhurt eye - painful in its own right - and can just make out the battlefield in front of her, but she doesn't dare open the injured one, for fear her eyeball will melt right out. Just to be sure, she rams the sore one shut, too.

Her consciousness shifts and passes into Dominus; his eyes become hers. Their minds meld, and through his cat-vision she sees Lace charging towards them. Through her pain, her heart soars; he's coming to protect her! Blind she may temporarily be, but she doesn't want him getting hurt on her behalf - she will fight alongside him! Who needs eyes, when she has her other senses, plus her lion?

Nyx has been blind before, of course. She was born without sight, and her other senses had learnt to compensate during her fillyhood. It has been many years since her eyes didn't work, but the old memories come flooding back, like fragments of a dream. Of her mother's vicious beatings of her little blind disappointment of a daugher; of using her sense of smell to hunt for milk, her ears to scan for predators, the vibration of the ground beneath her tiny hooves to gauge distances between herself and others. As she stands in the battlefield, eyes rammed shut, she lets her other senses take over. That, in addition to what she can see through her bonded, will hopefully ensure she survives this battle.

Through Dominus, she sees the wolf's carcass crumble into dozens of mini-little-bastards, and she sees Lace explode a sun towards the little termite-like things. Through Dominus she sees one of them scarpering towards her, all acid and macabre intent. I don't think so. That thought comes from her and her white lion alike, and with a savage roar Dominus jumps towards the back end of the mini-wolf. They are so closely joined now that Nyx feels his claws ejecting from their sheaths, his lips peeling from his hooked fangs, flavoured air drifting across the nub inside his mouth, the hunting urge that drives him to kill and to survive. He aims to hook his claws into the back end of the wolf whilst his jaws attempt to bite the base of the spine where it joins the tail, trying to slam the creature down onto its haunches and pin it in place.

Using all her senses and Dominus' eyes, the storm queen rears, front hooves flailing as she aims to bring them crashing down onto the wolf's head. Hopefully it will be held in place by her bonded, so she hopes to crush its skull and slaughter it; decimate it.


With her eyes shut due to the burning acid, she uses Dominus' eyes to see, and tries to rear and slam her hooves down on a wolf whilst Dominus tries to hold its back end down with his claws and teeth.

Lace mentioned.

Other characters have permission to use magic/violence against Nyx at any time.

Nuray Posts: N/A
:: :: ::
stars in your multitudes, scarce to be counted. filling the darkness with order and light.
You are the sentinels. silent and sure. keeping watch in the night.
The exotic maiden relished in masterpiece she had carved. Blood dripped from her horns as he gazed upon the beautiful, clean cut she had caused. Adrenaline coursed through her veins. Around her the drums of war were resonating, hooves stomping to the cadence it provided. It was pure chaos. Disgust and contempt tasted like bile in her mouth as she marked how many would dare to betray their Goddess. "Traitors."

Mere moments after she had mumbled this single word to herself pain shot through her haunches. What a coincidence. A traitor had managed to catch her by surprise, his wicked horn jaggedly cutting into her thigh. The woman of ethereal grace turned on him. Before she could attack - before she could punish his actions - another horse swept in. Beautiful crystals left her temporary enchanted but she quickly shook her head and tore her eyes away from the stallion.

The wolf was on the ground. Unfortunately, satisfaction was cut short as the beast began to separate. Severed limbs and intestines came together to create wolf shaped, mutant creatures. A shiver ran along her spine. For a second the lady found herself frozen. She came from such a divine world. To see such taint was repulsive.

She had to cleanse these lands of those who wished to dirty its soil with their diseased paws.

Like a pale ghost she darted across the battle field. A fluid gait brought her to one of the demon spawns. Wary of the acid they possessed she turned so that her backside was facing the creature. As quickly as she could she tried to buck at the wolf, hoping to catch it before it left. Pain from her injury seared her thigh, causing her to wince from the burning sensation. Bloody traitor. If he ever crossed her path again she would make him regret staining her spotless coat.


mentions: ode and crystarius
image credits

Runs up to one of the mutant spawns, spins 180 degrees to protect her eyes from any potential splatter, and bucks at the creature.

Rikyn the Puppeteer Posts: 549
Aurora Basin Lord atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 4 HP: 70 | Buff: SWIFT
Duir :: Royal Cerndyr :: Earth Spirit Bunnie
It’s madness, a cruel doppelganger of the battle before, because this time I feel no rush of conquest or the bolster of my companions alongside me; through the haze of my magic I sense Aithniel take to the heavens, I sense my father not far away in a flash of black and bronze within my peripheral, but none of them are near to me as Erebos and my sister had been at the first trumpet of the battle in the red wood. There is also the knot of terror that pops and quivers in my chest, that makes my eyes hold fast upon the shadowy figures of the wolves as they dart about the field, a disallowance of true focus fed by the fear I had not known lay within myself.

I felt no such sensation as we faced the bear, almost as if I had known we would win. Was it the congruence of the battle that eased my better judgment behind the red wall of violence, that all leapt towards the beast rather than a divided mass which surges towards, not only the God who is cruel and keeps its people in snares of devious blackness, but towards the Goddess who murdered their friends and kin? I hear calls for brothers, mothers, sisters, friends, cousins – I hear names, but they are empty to me, only the dull pounding of my heart as I feel that strange, pulling motion upon my mind that signifies my magic reaches, it writhes.

But it fails. It fails because, as I focus upon the soft ebony velvet of that paw, so many things go wrong.

A voice rings through the mayhem with the clarity of a silver bell, rising up and through the clamor of limbs and voices, severing my focus so much that my eyes immediately fly upwards and my heart skips its heavy beat, a fear cold and freezing racing from its heart as I make out the figure in the heavens, as I hear her challenge against the Goddess – and even as I feel myself wish I could propel myself upwards and after her in a fretful panic, I cannot help but notice that she… well.

She’s on fire.

When did that start happening? I need to run off less.

"Aithniel, no!" I shout from the ground – what is she thinking, attacking a Goddess of Helovia? Her brothers could very well be watching from their hidden places now, taking note of her treacherous actions – and could she not see those of the Rift, their malnourished bodies and maddened gazes, their souls heavy with the shackles laid upon them by the cruel divines of their realm? My idiot firebrand of a sister…

Murderess or no, the people of this land were not starving or wasting away in magical ruin as those who were ruled by the wolf did.

"This isn’t the time for -"

The words are stolen from my lips as one of the wolf’s many smoky duplicates, totally missed in my frustration and fear for Aithniel, slams into my already Godly bruised side, racking its strange, chilly magical touch down my ribcage and sending me flying hard onto my left. I watch its passing with an open mouthed “O” as I spin through the air, my absolute panic that it had been so close, and elation that it had leapt upon someone else instead stealing all noises from me momentarily.

Feeling like I’d been pinned between an ice wall and freight train, I slide across the ground, slamming into a wall of bamboo which rattles above me in a clamorous clatter, a pained yelp escaping my mouth as a ridge of welted bruises rises along my back from the impact.

Lifting my chest from the ground with a swelling agony lacing down my left side and back, I try to shake the stars of pain from my vision, to regain some idea of what is going on in all this chaos. The wolf is dying, it seems, the Goddess proudly revering her success alongside a dark man who is as handsome as she is voluptuously tempting.

When I look for Aithniel I cannot see her, and it sends me to my hooves with a quickness that defies the twisted expression that steals my normally handsome face in the motion, my ears twitching madly for the sound of her voice, golden gaze roaming for sight of her burning figure. As I fretfully seek her out, the sound of a growl returns my eyes to the corpse of the dying wolf God.

In a tidal wave of freakish shadow limbs, the body revitalizes and divides into a sea of hounds with jaws snapping, golden eyes gleaming wickedly; the fear resurges in my heart, and again I try to force it back down, urging my aching body to move towards them rather than away. Starting into the mayhem at a trot, I feel the contusions along my back scream, and I know better than to try to stick it out on my own for the rest of this.

Among the throng I see my uncle and father alongside Ophelia (still pretty sure that’s who that is, anyway), and with a wince with each footfall that could inspire pity I am gracelessly cantering towards them, my golden horn striking out at any figure that is four legged and shaggy furred with gleaming, aureate eyes.

[ Summary: Rikyn is thrown to the ground and slides into the bamboo wall, bruising his left side and spine, his right side suffering magical effects and his preexisting bruise now freshly sore from the impact of the shadow wolf. Sore as seven hells he tries to make his way towards Ulrik, Ophelia, and Torleik, while attacking any of the small wolves he passes on the way with his horn.

Mentions: Aithniel, Ulrik, Ophelia, Torleik, some others maybe idk swp posts man so much shtuffs happening. :| ]

Team These Wolves Are Scary aka Moon Goddess

Wishlist - Plots

Force/violence is allowed to be used on Rikyn permitted it does not permanently maim or kill him (PM me!).

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

All was a strange and chaos and as the cotton mists turned parts of the world in pastels and grays, she could only wonder what was left of the ones that lingered in the midst of it. Cutting loose her control over the fog, she swiped what was in her way from her path. The diviner looked back and the eyes of the Goddess found hers. Somehow Maren found her in all her holy immortality, the one polished in splendid pious purples, the one so sacred in the midst of her cotton cloud looking tired and strangely mortal for just a bare second. Maren glared at her as the divine entity acknowledged her protection; A protection of a magic that could’ve been so easily from her, instead of the Sun and the Earth. Nevertheless, in the waters of her mind she did not feel doubt for what she had. Even if ever my path meets one clouded in shadows, the path I presently walk is bathed in pools of glorious light, she concluded in thought before she turned away her golden eyes.

Finding her way perfectly through her own fog, she watched those fighting put down the Holy Dog she felt so much disgust for. In all of her glorious tiger striped past, she hadn’t been able to appreciate a canine’s lifestyle for one day and today had brought nothing new. The fact that his paws and claws were drenched in sickness did not help. You are not True, the diviner’s mind repeated. Her silent eyes slipped forward over the creatures who were new and bright in their colours, different, and, in the grasp of her vigil pupils, she judged them, too. Foul creatures, shattered souls. Filth. But in all of her own quiet but righteous disgust, the priestess had her priorities in order and pushed her gaze further down her line of vision.  

The carcass of the beast had fallen and lay in grey hues on the ground. Suddenly she noticed Cera; back on the ground and standing with another girl she recognized from the Throat. Their eyes crossed and she thought to find remorse in his blue gaze. Maren, too, softened her eyes and nodded almost unnoticeable as her side-wings relaxed next to her ears. She assumed that they were back on the same side again, and she preferred it that way.  

Just as she started feeling the relief of a won battle, the former God’s body started to deform. Out of the shadows of its dead limbs grew small but ominous looking  wolves. Their numbers were large and the priestess felt her throat hesitating to let through air for a moment. In the skin of her left shoulder burns still itched from her last battle in the bloodfalls, while on the remaining parts of her tiger-hide boils leaked and popped blood into the shapes of new rusty red stripes.

She had the urge to run, but looking around her there were too many here she somehow had started to secretly care for. So she sucked it up, let out her only mechanism of defense and in the next moment that followed she pulled out a silver liquid from the soil beneath her hooves. The liquefied metal shimmered as she reshaped it, crafted them into small metal balls. With her mists dancing and cringing in urgency, she let it twist into a small storm. The eye being the opening, the barrel from where she could spot the ghastly wolves. 

Until now she had not thought her ability to craft with metal would be of any use in battle, but without hesitation she shot them at the incarnations. As she saw another wolf run she aimed the next bullet at his head. But in her own mind there was a sarcastic, biting voice calling mother would’ve been proud.

image credits


Summary: When the smaller wolves appear from the dead Wolf God’s body Maren creates a new veil of mist in the hopes of hiding from their vision. Meanwhile she uses her metal crafting ability to create small metal bullets that she shoots towards the wolves, aiming for their heads.

@[Random Event] for the boils D:
Please tag me 

Cera the Golden Prince Posts: 419
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 16.3hh :: 6 Years HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Ilaria :: Red Panda :: Heal Brit

For all he thought he was alone in this wretched world, he is proven wrong at the pinnacle moment of his existence. He is fire and light as he descends, but his heart is torn even before the cries of his family reach his ears. Are you ashamed of me, Hototo? It's a plaintive cry in the depths of his heart, and to imagine it has tears slipping from his eyes to trail into the air. Is this what you would have wanted? He is a peaceful creature, generally. Though he undoubtedly had the abilities of a warrior when called upon, and though he'd defend his home and his loved ones to his last dying breath, Cera did not seek bloodshed nor was he happy to engage in it. Only when forced to a breaking point were decisions such as this one made. Ones that ripped into the tender peacefulness of his soul and shredded him to pieces, mangling him with the awareness that he was letting down everyone he'd ever loved. But he hurts. He agonizes over his brother's loss, and he has held in his pain for so long. She is the only target he can fathom, and she is here before him like the world's sweetest temptation. Only to find that once you bite into it, it's rotten all throughout the middle. 

Ranjiri's screams cut into him, and his wings arch and catch him in a stumbling sort of maneuver, because the words resonate inside his heart. Mist comes to obscure his vision and he banks hard, his control lost as her cries slam into him in a way that must be physical for how it hurts to hear. Seeing Maren's protective, divertive attempt is merely another hole in his spotted, weakened will. WHAT DOES IT MATTER WHAT HE WOULD HAVE THOUGHT? his soul screams in agony as he falls, his sister's voice his only beacon in the fog. HE'S DEAD. HE'S DEAD BECAUSE OF HER. But it does matter, and as his body slams into Ranjiri's he knows it. Because honoring someone's memory is important, and it always has been. And the idea of Hototo being disappointed in him is worse than death, worse than any good he could feel from vengeance. 

Jiri. Maren. Meg. Gaucho. Ampere... his throat chokes even as his wing is smashed awkwardly and painfully against his side as he and Ranjiri collide, eyes slammed shut as if he can block out this mistake he almost made. He's sobbing freely, and his heart is torn but he knows that he can't do this. Knees hit the earth, backs of his hooves a horrible piercing sensation against his belly as he's thrown to the fray. Wings are tucked tight to keep them from damage, and he stumbles up, instinct telling him that the longer he's prostrate on the earth the more damage he can be subjected to. And he opens his eyes.

She's there, his baby sister. And his tears come hot and fast until he feels sick, even more so. "I'm sorry," he chokes and his heart throbs harder than any of his wounds could. Eyes flicker to the Goddess, as if it could make any difference what he has to say, for she would never forgive him no matter how much he hoped that she would. That she would take mercy on his mortal, failing heart with all its emotional ties. Didn't it matter that he regretted? "I'M SORRY!" and it's more than just the Goddess he says it for, screams it for. He yells it for Hototo, for the Goddess, for his own sorry soul and those he almost failed. 

He turns and tries to find Maren's eyes through the fray, already shoving and trying to herd Ranjiri out of the way of the mess that has become the Goddess' vicinity. It was not her job to save him, but he would return the favor nonetheless. And if Maren would look upon him, she would see only regret and gratitude, and a deep abiding sadness that laced his own self-hatred. "Get out of here!" he bellows over the noise of the fighting, because he can't bear to see her hurt again. Not after the gruesome injury that had nearly made her flightless after the Time God fight. He couldn't lose her. "I love you," he whispered, and then he turned and sprinted away from the Goddess, ignoring the heat gathering beneath his skin. 

Finding Gaucho on the battlefield, he races towards him, watching as the monsters mutate and snap their acidic jaws in furious warning. Let me do this for you. Rushing past his Sultan, he tries to tell himself that there will be time for apologies and redemption later. If he has not lost Gaucho's respect...then there is still hope. Angelic wings flare high, and he momentarily thanks his thin frame as he leaps high with a harsh downward thrust. The wolf nearest to his Sultan his is target, eyes an emerald flame as he poises his hooves to come down upon the wolf's spine with all his weight and the force of gravity behind him. There is always a weakness, a flaw in the structure. As a Forger he knows this, and if he can save any of his family even a single wound he will thrust himself into the very jaws of the wolf god. 

I give it all for you
I am Ceraaaa


- Slams into Ranjiri, bruising his left wing and scraping his knees on the ground
- Yells an apology at the Goddess (fat lot of good that does, dork)
- Tries to herd Ranjiri out of those fighting the Goddess/near her
- Tries to look for @Maren because of her fog magic
- Runs across the battlefield, finds @Gaucho and leaps into the air to try and break the mini-wolf's spine nearest to Gaucho in hopes of protecting him
Please only tag starting posts, spars, and threads collecting dust!

Mortuus Nox Posts: 187
Aurora Basin Time Mender atk: 3.5 | def: 10 | dam: 7
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.2 :: Immortal HP: 66.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Mortuus Nox
Your fears have just become all too real
He looked behind him to see that the little white filly was safe from harm thank the gods for that, But as he felt his thick horns rip and tear at the wolves flesh he could feel his own burning. The acid poured across his own body as he slipped out from under the heavy wolf just before it falls to the ground. His body burned and boiled opening up his onyx skin to reveal blood and the tissues under the soft black coat. He ignored the pain and trudged on, he would not let this get to him. No he would never let this shoot him down and he would never crash and burn. His heavy ebony body trudged away to see someone that was in worse condition than his own. She was a gray mare that was blinded, but still trying to attack. He trotted over the the mare that was rearing up and attempted to help or protect this mare in any way he could. A mini shadow wolf ran up to the demonic stag and tried to bite at his legs he reared up crashing down o the beast and then he looked back to the mare " I got your back, i am right here . I know you do not know me but at this point i am here to help you if you need it."  He turned around and bucked at another wolf that was trying to attack the stag. His skin burned as the acid burned into his soft hide, he let a small grunt out, but quickly pulled it back together. Nox watched as the white tiger was attacking other wolves surrounding the mare. He figured that the tiger could help his other out, but whats a little extra help. Nox let his gray gaze meet the many others on the field as the burns sent shocks of pain through his body dropping him to his knees for a brief moment. He stood back up pinning his ears in anger snapping at any wolf trying to come close to the mare and himself. What was he going to do with shock waves of pain radiating through his body like this....  

He looked up at the moon goddess she was not backing down one little bit and he grew from the inspiration watching the others run past him. His eyes were filled with nothing, they showed no emotion or pain from the fight. He was like a stone from the years of battles then he heard a voice cry out from the crowed. It was Tiamat she was trying to stop the madness, but she was unsuccessful with her efforts. He watched as the blue mare ran to gather herbs to heal anyone who was burned or struck by the beast. He smiled softly thinking of her, but then snapped back to reality. He was in the fight and now was not the time to zoom out. He tilted his large crown to the side stabbing any wolf that tried to attack his sides. His eyes kept gazing from the gray mare to the blue mare. He knew what he was doing was right, but it was upsetting one of the mares he actually cared for. He stood trapped on what to do, his mind told him one thing.. His heart told him another. He shook his head rearing up snapping at any horse that was trying to attack the goddess. As he landed back on his feet the acid cracked his skin sending him down on his knees again. He whipped his skull around trying to impale any creature that was trying to attack him as he attempted to stand up again.

Image Credits!

Team Goddess

Nox gets burned badly by the acid ,but he continued on to try to help @Nyx any way possible after he sees that something was clearly wrong. The pain of the acid strikes him down to his knees for a brief moment as he grunts in pain. He quickly gets back up aggravated snapping and attacking any wolf coming close to him. He sees @Tiamat upse about the fighting and stops for a moment to think before the wolves attack again. He then rears up trying to protect the goddess as much as he could before crashing down on his knees in severe pain from the burns.

Please tag Mortuus Nox in all posts
magic & permanent injury is permitted excluding death.

Eden Posts: 56
Absent Abyss atk: 4 | def: 9 | dam: 7
Mare :: Unicorn :: 16.1 :: 5 HP: 64 | Buff: NOVICE

e d e n
if you were to leave, fulfill someone else's dreams, I think I might be totally lost

The wolf's side spilled open, painting the tip of Eden's horn in crimson. She was shocked by her deed. Was it cruelty if it was eat or be eaten? Blood dripped from her horn, droplets of it had splattered her pale coat whilst she had ripped through the creature's flesh. She felt numb. 
When the wolf fell, she felt no pride in what she and the others had done. In that moment she had reduced herself to a single instinct - survive. It was survival of the fittest, but it was so much more cruel than she had ever known it to be. Eden took small steps backward, droning out the noise around her as the wolf's carcass fell. She gazed at it, feeling guilt in every crevice of her body. Her head hung low, silently mourning for both herself and the wolf. 
She was going to walk away. She was going to leave and never look back. She was going to spend a week mourning for the God then let his memory fade away like dust in the wind. But that wasn't what happened. 
The wolf's body morphed and shifted, growing and separating into many smaller wolves. They weren't as massive as the original wolf, but they all harbored his immense anger. Eden's golden eyes widened, mouth falling open. "No," she whispered, "no, no, no, no!" She looked around at the other Helovians fighting for their home so easily. It was different for her, she had to piece herself together and flush out her emotions to do what they did. 
Eden bit her lip, golden gaze flicking back to the wolves. She had no choice. She suppressed every emotion she knew and then some, leaving only a bit of room for an instinct or two. It was like flicking a switch, a three thousand pound switch.
The pale mare charged the first wolf she saw, aiming to jab her horn right through it's chest. She does this with any and all wolves that come her way. The fact that she was acting so violently made her sickeningly sad. She moved swiftly, an angel of death disguising her tears. 


Eden's attacking any all wolves that come her way by trying to stab them in the chest with her horn.
[Image: 55e3948091bdb]
please tag eden in all posts

Shadow Posts: 153
Deceased atk: 6.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 4.5
Filly :: Hybrid :: 14.2 :: 8 HP: 63 | Buff: ENDURE

Hooves smack into flesh and bone and it was a sickening sensation she remembered only too well. Sharp, hard hooves cut open the skin beneath the thick fur, and even as she beat her wings to stop the downward momentum Shadow felt her legs sting and burn as something red splattered up across them. Howling in pain she used the body of her child's enemy as a stepping stone and kicked off from it, back up into the air even as a white-hot orb of fire exploded nearby. The air was thick with magic by now, energies flying this way and that; she had a heck of a time dodging and avoiding it all as she worked her way higher into the sky, heart beating frantically in fear and reluctant excitement.

She hated battles. The path of the warrior was not hers, so why was it that she time and again ended up in situations that required such skills? Well, she had much too few of them, and her priorities were horribly skewed. Jewel-bright eyes scoured the ground below, not for more enemies but in search of a small, pale child with more courage than was good for her. Where was she, the child, the precious daughter who grew to become so different from her serious older brother? The silver to his steel, light in his darkness, naive innocence where he had known far too much. She flew this way and that, avoided magic and splattering blood as best she could, bit back tears of pain and distress...

There! Small, frail, jousted back and forth by bigger and less considerate fighters. Others were accompanying her, it seemed; the pretty gold-stained girl Erthë had been talking to before, and a stallion of unknown name and character. Relief flooded the heart of the Blackbird, she made to lower herself further through the air to land by the girl.

But before she reached the ground, something happened with the wolf. She had been vaguely aware that it had staggered and collapsed beneath the brutal weight of defenders, and thought it finished, that the battle was over. But instead of dying the thing multiplied, like a last, horrible spawning of sickly, twisted miniature versions of itself. These things were a lot faster than their origin, and Shadow realized that they were a hundred times more dangerous because of it. A cry tore from her lips as she once again folded the wings and dived, this time aiming to swoop down and knock one of the hell-spawns off its feet by slamming herself into its misshapen side.

All the time she kept shooting glances towards Erthë, ready to abandon her own fight and assist the girl in a heartbeat, should she need it.

But a part of her was aching with pride over the daughter, how she fought just as bravely as many of the adults around her. She was far too young of course, but perhaps it was a little warrior that hid within that frail, diminutive body?

Future would have to tell, and Shadow was determined to make sure that the girl would get all the time she needed to grow into whatever she was meant to become. For that, too, was what mothers were all about.


Team Moon

Shadow flies up in the air again to find her daughter. Seeing that she is quite alright she focus on the new wolves and dive down in an arch, hoping to slam into one of the spawns from the side to knock it over. Ready to hurry over and protect Erthë if needed.

Mentions Rexanna and Mortuus Nox in passing. HP: 42

Erthë Posts: 440
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5.5
Filly :: Hybrid :: 14,2 hh :: 3 years HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
I'm like a prayer you whisper from your window to the world

She ran across the battlefield, heart ablaze and cheeks lined with falling tears. Fear was a part of her at times like these, it seemed, but though she wanted to scream in fright as shadows and monsters were alive around her, it was not fear that carried her forward this time. It was anger, and sadness, and a small but budding core hope that the Goddess would notice her and approve of what she did. The child didn't even know why she wanted this. She had no notion of gods and what they were for, she was not raised to faith and worship of others. Maybe she wanted the fair Lady to smile instead of frown angrily, or perhaps she just wanted an excuse to talk to her.

Whatever it was, the blatant and overt attacks against the Moon made her both sad and confused. Why were they so angry, couldn't they see that she was helping them? Did she not fight the Wolf that had said he wanted to take all of them? They should all stop being rude and throw their magic and their angry voices at the Wolf instead! Like Erthë did.

She felt Rexanna follow after her and nearly smiled in happy relief. Somewhere above she could hear Mother's voice, but didn't have time to look for her; still she felt bolstered in her intent, safer now that she knew Shadow was nearby.

Just like the last time, there were those who tried to stop her from fighting. Why? Was it because she was smaller than them? Did they not think that she could do anything, that she was bad at it and would get in the way? Oh, she would prove them wrong! With a defiant shake of her head she tried to avoid Mortuus Nox but wasn't quick enough. The shove pushed her off course and rather than stabbing into the paw of the big bad Wolf, her makeshift dagger buried into one of the shadow clones instead. All around her people were screaming and kicking, jumping, running and leaping, a wolf disappeared here, and there, and over there too, but the child didn't make the connection between her action and the subsequent reaction. Instead she felt aching, hollow disappointment and glared angrily at the stallion that had ruined her attack, a tear-stained face of misery and affront.

But there was no time to shout blaming words at anyone. Mist was creeping across the battlefield and muffled the sights, sounds and the flashing lights of explosion and lightning. It made it hard to see what was going on, but Erthë thought she sensed a lull in the battle, a movement forward as the main adversary collapsed and howled in pain. The sound would haunt her for years to come, plague her dreams and pursue her at night. It bolstered the fear in her heart to new levels, and in a new desperation the child looked around wildly, desperate for the sight of anyone she knew.

The familiar tiger-striped figure of Maren was moving not far away. A ways off the big, dangerous looking Volterra fought bravely together with the amazing red dragon that had protected her before. In another direction she spotted Rikyn, he seemed to be hurrying off somewhere... But in the end it was towards the sand-colored Kalona with cloud colored mane and the Moon Goddess the child set course, attracted by her radiant charisma that to Erthë seemed safe, comforting and strong rather than dark or ominous. Was she not the moon, distant but bright, a light in the dark? Was she not the mother of the four winds, that Shadow kept talking about and swearing by every now and then? Whatever reason the others had to be angry at the goddess meant nothing to the child, who still knew nothing of the pain of loss or the comfort one felt in pushing blame on someone else.

She had nearly reached the group around the moon when the crumpling body of the Wolf God suddenly heaved and bubbled, transformed and split apart. The filly threw one look over her shoulder and couldn't withhold the scream of fright as she saw the horrible, misshapen effigies come bounding, attacking everything within sight. Her legs worked harder to carry her forward and she began beating the small, useless wings as if it would make her move quicker. But she was not fast, and the black, acidic creatures were on her heels before she had gotten to safety behind her most recent idol.

One of the monsters set its sights for her and Erthë screamed again, terrified at the sight of the slobbering, oozing figure. It seemed to absorb the light around it, so black was the patchy, tufted coat. Everywhere shards of bone and coiling, pulsating intestines poked through the skin and the stench of it was like a hundred rotting bodies, like festering wounds and old blood and searing acid. The part that formed the head reached out for her, tried to sink it's shattered teeth into her flesh. Horror washed over her in waves, hot and cold and hot again, smothered thoughts and paralyzed the brain so she couldn't think. Instinct took over and it was that which made her move the tail like a whip, so that the bamboo splinter was sent flying towards the open maw of the beast.

The child heaved herself forward in a last ditch effort to escape. And she prayed even as she tumbled forward towards the ground, for the first time in her short life. That the Moon might protect her. That she might take away her fear, grant the strength to endure all these horrors.

She was so close now, could nearly smell the cosmic being. If gods did smell - it would probably be of something really fresh and sweet and unforgettable. Just like the Goddess herself.

Lines by Darya87

Team Moon Goddess - Contest Winner

Runs toward the Goddess when the new wave of wolves attack. One comes after her and she throws the bamboo splinter towards its open mouth. Prays to the Moon for strength and courage.

Mentions; Shadow, Rexanna, Mortuus Nox, Maren, Rikyn, Volterra, Kalona and the Moon Goddess.

@Random Event

~| Use of magic and violence is always permitted |~
~| Please only tag in opening posts |~

Badger Posts: 68
Hidden Account atk: 4 | def: 8 | dam: 6.5
Gelding :: Equine :: 15'2hh :: 10 HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
Amongst the chaos, a mare speaks to me. She is about the same size as me, with a tri-coloured coat and large, curved horns. Her stride is an awkward, limping trot that immediately bids my eyes to flicker down to her legs, hunting for wounds. Her voice, when she speaks, is a sound as beautiful as birdsong; if I was a stallion, no doubt I would be drooling and attempting to mount her right now, because that is what stallions tend to do, right? As I am not, and can only appreciate her beauty on a level different to entire males, I am not as distracted by her appearance as I am by her quivering lips and fluttering eyelids. Bless her! My heart melts, and I immediately begin sorting through my array of herbs.

"My name is Badger," I say - first things first. My voice is kind, soft, the voice of a doctor. "What's yours?" I flicker my warm brown eyes to hers for a moment. "You've landed in a place known as Helovia. This particular land is as new to me as it is to you, but something similar happened in a different land a little while ago - I believe you and several of your kind have been dragged here from somewhere far, far away." 'Another world' does not come into it, as I don't believe in such things. "Now, tell me where it hurts, and I'll try my best to help you. I am a healer of one of the herds here." I beam at her, still keeping up my cheery disposition even in the face of insurmountable odds and many, many injuries.

It is quite by chance that I cast my gaze towards the battle, noting that the giant wolf has fallen. Thinking the fight is over, I sag with relief, until the corpse breaks apart and becomes an army of mini-demon-wolves. Horror ghosts across my face and I subconsciously scan the crowd for injuries, for anybody who needs healing before the battle continues in earnest...and I see Erthë, bravely thrusting a bamboo dagger towards one of the wolves, before tumbling to the ground. "Erthë!" I bellow. Her mother seems preoccupied fighting, and I know not if anybody else will come to help her.

With a quick nod to Esk, I throw down a couple of painkilling herbs at her feet, hoping she'll take the cue to eat them - I don't even have time to speak. I am not a warrior, and I am not brave; my legs carry me without my permission towards the battle, towards the little filly I helped bring into the world, who is like a niece and a daughter combined to me. I am a coward, but that little girl cannot be expected to do this alone. I cannot stand by and see her killed. A sort of numbness encases me as the adrenaline surges, as I break into a heavy gallop to reach her in time. I dodge wolves, my eyes rolling back into my head with my abject terror, my tail hooked high over my back to prevent it being snagged on any beast that may try to eat me.

I quake with fear as I reach the filly, as I desperately use my nose to try and nudge her to her feet like her mother did when she was a newborn. I shield her with my body, and as I hear slavering wolf-breaths behind me and smell the stench of zombie dog, I kick my hindlegs out a couple of times, hoping to smash into any of the beasts that come towards us. Shit, I'm terrified, my flesh flapping and sweating and froth beading around my mouth, but I have to protect Erthë.


Speaks to @Esk and gives her herbs, then runs to @Erthë to try and nudge her up off the ground and protect her from any wolves, kicking backwards at any wolves behind him.

Elsa the Icebound Posts: 644
World's Edge Protector atk: 6 | def: 10.5 | dam: 6
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16.2 Hands :: Six (Frostfall) HP: 73 | Buff: BULK
Edgar :: Plain Zephyr :: Arctic & Wakiya Klare

I've cried, and you'd think I'd be better for it, but the sadness just sleeps, and it stays in my spine the rest of my life.

Well the shit certainly did break loose. All around are clashes. Horses running, jumping, screeching, and bleeding. All the while all she had managed to do was create an stupid and useless ice wall. Even the horses had taken to beating each other up. Some jumped on others while they were busy defending the goddess, and then more horses were attacking those horses. It was battle-inception. 

Then before she knew it, the creature was dead. There was an odd stillness as it fell rotting to the ground. The mixture of magic seemed to permeate out of gasses that were still fermenting in the air. Then suddenly, the body began to spasm and change. It seemed to tear itself apart, forming more distorted wolves. They seemed to be frankenstiens from the original body, and once they were formed, they jumped into action.

More clashing occurred. Numerous unicorns began thrashing and punching horns into wolves. There were so many unfamiliar faces that it made her nauseous. The world seemed to spin and she tumbled back a few steps from severe anxiety. Her breaths became ragged, and everyone seemed to be disappearing before her eyes. She could see movement in the ground, but could not longer make out the shapes of horses. It was like they all were disappearing. With the last bit of her energy, Elsa stumbled forward, shooting a spike-shaped object from the ground in the direction of one of the wolves.

This chaos needed to stop. All it would do is tear apart Helovia limb by limb.


image credits
  • Any force can be used against Elsa.
  • Please tag any posts that involves Elsa.
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

Ophelia the Forsaken

Very suddenly, she looked down and saw her own hooves, magic being torn away in an instant. She held her breath, knowing that the Goddess controlled this particular power, and she prayed even harder that her magic would work against the lavender demon. Her heart hammered in her chest, fearing the future. She was not afraid to die. Not once had she ever come to the doors of her demise with regret, but now? She had something... someone... to live for. 

The realization was, perhaps, more terrifying than its inevitability. She did not want to die. 

Crimson trickled from the corners of her nose again, and quite suddenly, the god's attention turned. Whether by divine intervention, the strength of her power or just sheer, dumb luck, Ophelia was saved from her actions, consequence free. Torleik's words stung her with ire as she heard them over the din of battle, his nose shoving against her neck to get her attention, and she shook her head softly, shaking loose the cloud of emotions and fog pervading he edges of her mind. 

Then, she speared him with a glare, ears flattening against the curve of her neck.  "My family was murdered by this goddess," she whispered in his head, emotion thickening every syllable. "They deserve their revenge, and this was my only chance." Ophelia took a step away from him, tears turning the two-tone shades of her eyes to reflective glass. She swallowed hard, guilty at her relief that she was out of the goddess' radar and even more guilty that she was torn between pouring her heart to avenge the dead and ensuring Torleik got his share. Her heart was not only hers to give anymore. 

"There is no punishment too strong for the agony of watching my nephew die. I still remember the way the air tasted that day. The color of the stormy sky. The depth of black from the fog... His bravery... " Ophelia's voice wavered, and she hitched in a breath, swallowing hard. 

Fortunately, she did not have time to wallow. The great wolf exploded into hundreds more of the little ones, and she lunged at them headfirst, horn lowered to spear as many as she could. Crimson dipped hair waved around her face, and her cloven hooves stuck in the dirt as she moved. Sadness turned to anger, and droplets of rain appeared as blood on her hide, sliding down the swell of her feminine sides in a disturbingly seductive way. 

Something deserved to die today. "FUCK. YOU." she snarled, curling mousy lips back from her white teeth as she felled her lifted hooves toward a shadow wolf. 

With every ounce of faith I give, I still feel it all coming undone
Image Credits

Reluctantly Team-MG (she ain't no dummy)
Ophelia aims to spear the wolves with her horn and then tries to rear up and smash another one...


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!

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

It was strange. One moment, he had thrown a mechanical scorpion on a deer, and the next moment, he felt his heart grow heavy in his chest. Biologically, he knew that was impossible. Logically, he knew that there was no way his heart could gain mass, but it did. Mists surrounded him, and he looked out over the battlefield with shattered, bronze eyes. Something was happening, and he couldn't explain it in his soul. There were no words for the pride and pain he felt as he witnessed this destruction and listened to his cousin give him accolades for helping Ophelia.

His woman...

Even that sounded strange to his ears. Ulrik shook his head roughly, sending wild hair and a beard flying around his face. That seemed to knock whatever it was loose, and he returned to feeling like his normal, hardened self. Brows furrowed, he looked back at Ophelia. Was that her? He narrowed his gaze slightly before nodding toward Torleik. "Yeah, no problem," he grunted, deep voice rumbling with power. "I am going to go find my son. Watch her. She's..." he looked at Ophelia, and the word that came to mind was 'weird, hardass bitch', but he refrained. "She's ah... angry." 

Angry female? 

That was definitely his cue to leave. Ulrik scanned the crowds, shoving without thought or care toward Rikyn. He watched with anger as he saw his boy knocked over, and the Engineer snarled, running on long, towering legs, guarding his boy as he got up. The wolf burst into a bunch of the smaller ones, though they didn't seem any less lethal. His gaze then turned to his boy, assessing the damage and hoping that he was strong enough to continue. Then, he gave his son a wry smile, winking one a bronze eye with thick, dark lashes. 

"Lets show 'em what it means to mess with our family," he rumbled, a wild, mad grin curving his lips. Ulrik recklessly threw himself at a wolf, a berserker's battle strategy, not caring about his own body or state of health. Being tall, he didn't use his horn so much as he scrambled about with his hooves, trying to stop on a few of them while kicking out at others. Well... this was fun... It was about the only family oriented activity he could think of, honestly. Any time spent with Rikyn was time well spent, even it was killing a god in all out war. 

table by tamme | |art by lunarblues

Ulrik goes to Rikyn and then tries to stop and kick the wolves :D 

@Rikyn @Torleik

(Please tag me in every post)

Dvorak Posts: 4
Absent Abyss
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.0 hh :: 10

Dvorak felt his horns collide with the wolf's leg, sending painful shudders and shockwaves of force through his spine; it was exquisite. He was in a rage, nothing but pulsing, red fog and fury guiding his actions, and he praised the blood that fell, worshipped the battle, and sang for the destruction. Solid hooves carried him, and his tail flashed behind him, white stripes thick and full along his sides as evidence of his current, psychotic state. There was joy in this release, unlike in any other facet of his life, and he reveled in the fight. 

Keen eyes snapped around, but just as he looked up, a massive paw came crashing down on his body. He slid out from under himself, sliding on the now muddy ground as his face was smashed into the dirty. Angrily, his neck ticked, a little jumping blood vessel as he burned through the pain and waited to get up. His entire right side was coated in grime, and he curled his lips back into a snarl. Angrily, he shook out his coat, suppressing a groan at the pain that began to clench at his muscles. He was not giving up this easily. This was not going to end this way. 

He looked for a new angle, and that was when his eyes fell on Tatiana. Черт! (Damn!) Of all the stupid things, the princess had to get herself into this mess? Vory watched with horror as the wolf shoved her out of the way, and he did not hesitate to run to her aide, violence and anger consuming the honeyed gold of his wild eyes. "VHAT ARE YOU THINKING, TANYA?! LET ME DO JOB TO PROTECT YOU, YEH?" he snarled. "Oхуел? (the fuck?)"  With a snort he turned sharply and ran headlong back into the battle with no thought to his own injuries. 

Then, the wolf burst into more of them, and he grunted. "Okay, fine. Stay wit me." He muttered to Tatiana, lowering his neck to hit at the wolves like a battering ram. He kept a watchful eye on her, determined to do his job to the best of his ability - even if she was a silly princess who had no idea what she was getting in to...


Tries to hit the wolves with his horns


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
Fight the darkness,
It lives inside your heart,
It's not your fault my dear son,
It is simply your past.

*as a reminder, Mesec has shifted into a black and silver warg/wolf creature (reference)

Mesec? Are… are you okay?

The words are heard, and on some level they are even understood, but the trembling form of the monster does not care. That voice, those words, grit against its mind as though they were dragging up the memories from something it did not want to worry about just yet. The consciousness further down, pushed by the might of the monster in its birth, twists towards the voice and wants to move closer to it but the monster doesn’t allow for any movement. Not yet. Not while it is so new. As it rose, silver eyes - still his eyes - blink and - though they first fixate on a golden stallion (Thranduil) near by, they soon turn over to the flaxen mare (Najya), a wicked growl choking out of the newly formed vocal cords. It deepened as it grew in length until finally, it was punctuated by an awkward lunge - muscles still quaking with their new strength - one clawed paw reaching out to strike her against her shoulder.

But before more could be done, before it could act on instincts that felt inherently wrong - these teeth were made to tear into flesh but the mind revolted away at the thought of eating it - a flood of violet came into the world. The presence of the mother soothed the monster, the black and silver mass turning away from Najya and toward the goddess. It ignored the cries of the nearby zephyr, the annoying tug at its brain as though it were connected to someone other than her. But the monster was only calmer, not completely calmed - its pulse and breathing still raced as silver eyes roamed the crowd, looking for a target. And it got some. The goddess and her mutated son did not get much time to stand together. Their foe broke into smaller pieces before them and the snarls came from deep within this monster. It recognized that these wolves were a danger to the goddess. Everyone was a danger to the goddess.

It began to crouch, the growling intensifying as another came near to the goddess - sharp teeth lashing out as a warning to the unicorn (Kalona) to keep a respectful distance. Silver and black fur bristled, standing on end, as the small wolves begin to move through the crowd. It was wary of those around the goddess, the desire to tear into their flesh to keep them away strong but these wolves - unlike him and dripping with acid - posed a different threat. It was going to have to deal with them all, eventually.

So the monster moved - uncertain at first, indecisive. The desire to protect the Goddess seemed important, but the little abominations that looked like the monster but weren’t. One little abomination was paler than the rest, collapsing near the hooves of the goddess and effectively distracting the monster. Erthe, the filly, was getting too close. It moved toward her, snarling and snapping and trying to scare her away - too close! Stay away! Everyone needed to stay away from the goddess.

A pair of the mutant wolves were coming closer so it abandoned the child and leapt toward them instead - silent now. There was no warning for these creatures, it would give them no chance for them to get away. With claw and teeth, the monster strikes at them - trying to tear apart their feeble bodies with silver claws, ignorant of the danger their acidic blood might cause.

Image Credits
table by Frostie

Team Chaos/Moon Goddess
monster!Mesec considers attacking @Thranduil but, upon hearing her voice, takes a swipe at @Najya before getting distracted by the presence of the Goddess.
Lucius is screaming bloody murder trying to get his bonded's attention
Mesec attempts to land a bite on @Kalona as a warning to stay away from the Goddess
attempts to chase @Erthë away from the Goddess, snarling and snapping at her
gets distracted by a pair of mutant wolves before -actually- trying to bite Erthë, lunges at them and uses teeth and claw to try and tear them apart

oh look there's a big wolf-looking creature running around WONDER WHAT SIDE IT'S ON ;) ;)
please tag Mesec in replies
non-life threatening force is allowed at all times

Hotaru the Valkyrie Posts: 295
Outcast atk: 7 | def: 10.5 | dam: 3
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3hh :: 6 Years 3 Months HP: 67 | Buff: NOVICE
Alice :: Royal Hellhound :: Acid Brit


Her heart is a torn canvas as she and Alice stand on their hilltop, and her breath is caught in her throat as her magic tears free of her in stuttering gasps that do no good. Magic that the Goddess had a hand in giving her, magic that had helped her save Nymeria from the cougar and had kept Shadow from harassing her people. Who am I to try and understand her? It is a quiet thought, for though her heart agonizes over the loss of her parents...what if they had brought it upon themselves somehow? She is flawed and mortal, and she wants answers so badly that her throat burns with bile and her stomach churns. But how can she blame and hate so readily when those answers are not there for her to read? And she may find disgust in herself for her cowardly actions, for not following right behind Ophelia and Ktulu. But...the Goddess had been her cradle and her idol since Hotaru was a filly. She'd snuck into the Edge lands in hopes of somehow meeting her - childish dreams, but ones that had held meaning even as she'd grown older. She'd been granted everything she'd deigned to ask her Goddess for...surely she must have a reason for possessing Gaucho and bidding him to kill her parents? 

Hotaru's stance is shaky at best even before her magic goes wild and useless, and she flounders and buckles momentarily beneath the staggering force of the turbulence. And then, when her heart is shuddering in her chest with indecision, she's given her answer. It's a literal divine message, for a firm wind sweeps beneath her, controlled and caressing her in turn as she's steadied on her hooves. Time seems to slow as she turns her eyes to the Goddess, sees the frown on the beautiful celestial's face, the eyes that are locked on her. Cradled as she had always hoped to be in the power of her Goddess. Do you care for me? She agonizes pitifully inside her own head in a moment of profound weakness. Reassurance she would never have sought aloud, if only because she and the Goddess were cut from the same cloth in their personalities. But in that moment she wonders, she despairs, because she is so hurt but she loves so fiercely.

Hotaru lets the winds bolster her in body and spirit, and as her hooves find the earth once more, her eyes harden and she finds her purpose once more. Answers will come later. This is my sign. For you, my goddess. She has finally settled her soul. It's a temporary fix, and she still feels as if her marrow is displaced and her skin too tight. But she's not at risk at flying apart anymore. 

And she and Alice charge into the fray towards the new mutants that have formed in their mental absence from the battlefield. Her eyes linger on her Goddess, until eyes find a flash of gold that registers in her subconscious before she can even think about it. Her heart stops, against her control as she watches him shove Mirabella away from the Goddess. It's a protective move, one she'd recognize anywhere for how often she's done it to her girls. And as Megaera descends upon him, she reacts on an entirely emotional level, legs shifting as if thinking about following him down the battlefield. He just protected her daughter. There's nothing more profound that he could do to secure himself inside her heart, and her hooves dance towards Thranduil before she can even think.

And her throat convulses around his name as she watches the Dragon's Throat Sultana charge for his weapon, watches as his body is shrouded by the writhing colors of canvases before her. "THRANDUIL!" It rises unbidden from her tongue, adrenaline wiping higher thinking from her brain as she and Alice run for him, her heart in her throat because she can't see him. And that weapon is gleaming in Megaera's grasp and she doesn't know why she's so afraid but she's running for him as fast as her legs can take her, you can't die on me you bastard! Hotaru's brain is nothingness, solid fear that Meg will take revenge for Thranduil's attempts, whatever they were. And as a demonic hound that is no wolf-mutant but something just as ravenous sets its eyes on the Laurelin, her fear amplifies and she is screaming denials in her head, praying for a turn of events.

Out of nowhere a slobbering beast darts in front of her, nearly spinning her off her hooves. Temporarily distracted, and with a threat far nearer, she spins and drops her short stature low to try and stab her horn forcefully into the jugular of the wolf. Alice is right beside her, acid dripping off her jaws just like the other wolf, lunging for its soft belly and flank. However this ends, all she can think about is getting to Thranduil and Mirabella. Kicking his ass for worrying her, and praying that he makes it through alive. 

There's no time to wonder why she cares or why she's so frightened for him, the breakdown will come later. Gritting her teeth she lunges after the monstrous demon, her Goddess' faith and Mirabella's safety due to Thranduil bolstering her. WE WILL NOT LOSE! 

Image Credit

Contest Winner

Is steadied by the Goddess' winds, sees Thranduil shove Mirabella to safety and watches Meg rip his polearm away. Runs towards the three of them shouting Thran's name, but a wolf cuts in front of her path and she tries to dip low and stab her horn into its jugular, Alice hoping to bite at its underbelly with her acid bite.
[Image: 515265280ffff]

::Strong like the sea is stormy::

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