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Home » Search » Roster » Whitepages » Records » Guidebook

Armed I am with love. Disarmed I am.
RP Wanted The Portal 

“It has been said, 'time heals all wounds.' I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens.” -  Rose Fitzgerald Kennedy

The soft, luminous breath of new day was filtering slowly through the trees that surrounded him and the dove, as they forced a path between the overgrown wilds of the old Threshold – the gateway into Helovia’s legendary wonderland. It was an eerie sight, unsettling to the core, and for the first time in over a year, Noah’s skin was crawling uncomfortably with apprehension. The area was not how he remembered it to be; hoof-beaten trails, always lathered in the fresh scent of travelers, weaving like veins through the towering forest of pungent redwoods, teeming constantly with life.

However, this…

Vines, tangled and knotted-together ropes as thick as his forearm, slung between the bedraggled boughs of deteriorating trees; beneath them, everywhere, saplings, shrubs and thistles (he was certain they were indigenous to the like-named meadow that lay, spread out, somewhere ahead). It was difficult to move, hard also to breathe. The taste of decay, of  layers of litter left untouched to rot, flavored every inhale; spores of mold, and perhaps pollen, lay thick upon every surface; as they brushed by, pushed themselves through, the tiny particles scattered through the air, dispersing through the inhospitable forest around them or settling between the warm fibers of mammalian hair.  

The stallion turned towards his lover, a strained smile carved through the already thin expression on his face. “It’s almost like this place hasn’t seen a visitor for years…” he joked quietly. Though a hearty chuckle nudged through his burly, golden shoulders, bubbling out into the stillness of the hot, humid air, the tone of his voice suggested further of discomfit. Something about this just did not feel right.

An ominous cloud of concern was growing in his mind, leeching away the light-heartedness which had, thus far, accompanied their journey from home in Denocte; from Miette.

Sucking in another long breath, Noah lifted his eyes to the sky, at least, the slivers of storm-grey cloud that were discernible through the closed ceiling of foliage above their heads. What can you see? his thoughts queried concernedly, searching the mind of his bond-mate for confirmation that his gut-feeling was off-key, that life brimmed around the next bend, and normalcy lingered on the breast of there-waiting recruiters. Surely, they were there. Here… For some time she did not answer; long enough to spur a startled rhythm in his chest.


Hooves lost momentum as he challenged the wall of silence grown between them.

You are alone… came a tardy reply, finally, and the stallion’s heart was hammering so violently, pulse pounding in his ears so deafeningly, that his eyes were forced to close and mute excess, unnecessary information. There was a tremor in the foliage nearby and a heavily feathered, brown eagle descended through interwoven branches to the earth in front of him; his nose lowered swiftly towards the proud-looking predator, pleased beyond words to see her. Nephele hopped nearer and bumped the top curve of her bronze, hooked beak against her bonded’s velvety muzzle. You were expecting more?... she probed thoughtfully, blinking her intelligent eyes and tilting her narrow skull to the side expectantly; that had been her understanding, the founding reason for this adventure, given the level of their enthusiasm prior. Noah nodded and extended the arm of his wing so that she might remove herself from fetid carpet.

The large eagle accepted his gesture with a graceful bow.

Drawing his wing once more upwards, the stallion’s focus swiveled to find the pretty face of Nora - the white dove too, which shared her thoughts and feelings; it was nestled cozily into a bed of liver feather above the joint of the mare’s dainty, tucked wing. They were both delicate creatures, peaceful and pure, and he could not help a rising sense of possessiveness with, as his eyes settled on the bi-colored gaze his beloved returned. “I’m not sure what’s going on,” he told her openly. She was intelligent, perceptive, the whole package, and without a doubt aware of the queerness of the situation unfolding. Perhaps she too could see that their path could only continue forward, also…

The jungle sealed behind them, clasping together like wooden fingers to erase the rugged channel through which they had arrived. Even if they had sought to recoil, there looked to be no clear way to freedom; neither would find space to sprint nor spread wings, the forest was prisonlike and they were the captives. The land sloped softly on downwards and Noah remembered that a dense forest sprawled out at the bottom - then he thought, perhaps this was the Deep Forest; maybe its shadowy breadth had advanced considerably through their absence (justification, if nothing else). “Let’s continue,” he suggested rhetorically, forcing an air of reinvigorated confidence into his tone for her sake, dancing a kiss towards his favorite cheek (her paler, softer side, of course). With Nephele perched yet upon his forearm, close against his crest, the painted man continued along the same through the wilderness, pausing here and there to dine or rest, until at last the darkness and cooler hue of another night whispered around them.

They covered much ground over the four or more weeks which followed; wandering wretchedly, mindlessly, between unfamiliar landscapes, each horribly devoid of wildlife and strangled by rampant vegetation, never once either, finding their desperately sought civilization. Helovia had become a barren wasteland, wild, wicked, and so hopelessly lonely. The sky remained doused in deepening drear - stagnant clouds that seemed to drip and drape drown, as though the roof of the world itself was crumbling. The gods it seemed had forsaken their child, and with their evaporation (if that were indeed the case), the nations too had vanished. Still, there was a sickening sense of foreboding that would not ease in Noah’s gut.

On the evening of the thirty-third day, the drab, unchanging weather turned suddenly.

As his beloved and her bird slumbered, appeared to rest anyway, on the brink of the under-kept woodland, Noah and Nephele stumbled wearily from cover to investigate the static hum hanging like fog across a marshland, a sound which droned endlessly through every day and every night. Threads of magic in his bloodstream pulsed with excitement, answering the call of the strange malignant darkness, which grew ever deeper through here, the west. Doubt rang like clarion bells through his mind, but already the grip of Kaos, the thrum of his everlasting affliction, cradled him snugly, luring his lowered state of consciousness ever nearer to the formed fissure between realities.

Thunder rumbled through the darkening cloud cover constantly now, bubbling the marshy earth beneath hindered hooves, jarring each joint as vibration ventured upwards through susceptible flesh and on into the twisting, curdling core beneath his skin; he trembled with wild anticipation. So strange was the sensation that nausea befell him and his thoughts began to scatter. The shadows had grown thicker all around them, threatening his capacity to orientate, Nephele’s, luring forth a state of confusion in them both, yet all the same subtler still than the slow rise of quiet, moody-blue night. The illness around the portal of the damned was disease-like, gradually (though ravenously), sedating their senses, suffocating their awareness -

…until it was too late.

There was an inexplicable tightness constricting Noah’s chest. Even as he moved his lips drunkenly to brush the cause of the pressure from his pelt, the shadows shifted cunningly, allowing his muddled mind access only to the stew of swamp ahead. They guided him, them, gathered around behind like black oblivion; a trap with only one route forward. Jumbled thoughts fought the suffocating whisper of ghosts, victims of the trauma which had befallen these parts seasons ago, and his voice, choked from existence, strove to summon the notice of the dove. “Nora!” he winced, sighed, closing his eyes tiredly as the portal drew him nearer; it loomed before him now, fully in view, like a great gaping mouth suspended in midair.

Nephele’s wings flapped and fumbled, cloaked in the same slick of slime that lathered the stallion’s pale legs and belly. She too could not escape the shackle of the curse.

And then… only echoing remorse in strange weightless gloom; a heartbeat and the slow, steady sigh of each breath.

There was no telling how long he slept.

Noah’s sea-green eyes flung open as his saturated frame startled violently and his neck swung away from the waterlogged bed. There was such an ache in his head, throbbing so viciously that he let it plunge back heavily down; his ears were ringing, buried backwards into the sullied ramble of his flaxen mane and though he could see the strangeness of his surroundings well, there was no sound yet to compliment it. Nephele…? The bond was noisy, fragmented, as though the line between them had been broken and so overwhelming was the pressure it caused behind his bewildered glare, that he forced his lashes tightly back together. What was happening? Where was –


Despite overbearing agony and fatigue that threatened further his frail composure, Noah hurled himself upwards, arriving into the icy sheet of wind-driven rain, trembling and alarmed. “Nora!” he cried out again, this time louder and more frantic. Blurry eyes chased the wandering murk of the mist as it hovered out of reach, the shadows cast down upon him by the gnarled existence of foreign timber. The biting, harrowing sting of fear smothered his thoughts and he began to search anxiously beneath the queer lighting for his beloved; there was neither sign nor scent of her, or the dove, or Nephele, and the stricken eagle could feel the pound of his heart, high up in his throat.


Tag: @Nora (before other characters please)
tl;dr: They travel through Helovia, only to be consumed by the portal in Spectral Marsh and spat out in the Rift. Noah and Nora have become seperated, so he is searching the area around The Portal for her.

Portal Notes:
Magic 1
Transformation: Able to transform into a hippocampus; retains forelegs, wings become small fins, hindquarters become octopus-like and tentacled.

Magic 2
Offensive: Able to summon a horse-sized Octopus made of seawater.

Magic 3
Able to manipulate existing water.

x Seawater pools beneath his hooves, increasing the longer he stands still.
x Edge of golden markings appear to ooze and drip down his body like liquid without making visible progress

Enchanted Item
x -

Wedge Tailed Eagle
7 years old

Normal Items/s
x Plaited leather surcingle with a sheath beneath the right wing and a pouch on the left
x Sharpened Swordfish bill
Rift Presence
The shadows stir; they come crawling under the mist and the driving rain, a tide of darkness creeping in like an ocean. It's not a fast assault, it's slow, seeping, coming closer and closer and closer

—until it's just there and a spectral head rears up from the dark carpet, a silent roar from a vicious, toothed maw as it leans down to swallow you whole—

cold and clammy and searing and asphyxiating and terrifying

But it goes right through you, falling back into the sea of shadows; slowly, they pull away again.
the Rift
life between worlds


Transformation: Able to transform into a hippocampus; retains forelegs, wings become small fins, hindquarters become octopus-like and tentacled.
The Rift eats your second magic.
Offensive: Capable of manipulating existing water; doing so causes his lungs to slowly fill up with seawater.

Seawater pools beneath his hooves, increasing the longer he stands still.
Edge of golden markings appear to ooze and drip down his body like liquid without making visible progress

She goes wild.

Normal items transfer fine! Just link to this post in your profile.
» Presence of the Rift «

Ominous clouds are building on the eastern horizon, royal purple, blue and grey; but I don't much notice. Their threat is casual, unhurried; far enough away to feel entirely unimportant. The storm wouldn't arrive until later...maybe even as late as nightfall. is brimming with the succulent, captivating flavors of late spring. Lilac, honey suckle and lavender! Two-toned ears press forward, relishing the vibrant noise of laboring life -- bees are humming from their petal vantage, swallows dart and sing merrily as they travel into the sweet, green wheat and return with full beaks to the evergreens behind me. Dutifully, a pair of them work together, tiny acrobats who strive to feed their hidden trio of demanding offspring. Offspring who'd lack for nothing. Today marked the start of feast days; the beginning of plenty. Even the western sky celebrates the last days of rebirth with an early summer sun radiating in a bright, stainless sky....

No... denial pinches my expression into one of perplexity. It was NOT stainless.

The scent of rain barrels over my senses, riding on a cold wind. It was the bite of that coming gale which scatters the bees, they rise with yellowed legs and bottoms, fleeing home. My tapered snout flares warily, instantly resentful of the taste it draws. Decaying foliage and swamp rot...not what I expected of a crisp summer storm. The clouds race inward with their roadways swirling like bruised ribbons. This heart catches, tumbling before thudding ahead, racing like a beaten animal. With frantic chirps of dismay, the graceful acrobats disappear soundlessly into their grove. My wide gaze is stupidly forced upward, gawking. I'm stunned, petrified as the purple storm gallops to fruition. Rolls of thunder drum over me, crashing aggressively like the sound of falling trees. An electric, static fragrance hangs in the air....

Irises widen, rolling...these delicate legs tremble...ready to bolt. But for some reason, they are rooted...they can't leave. Droplets of rain begin to fall; icy fingers run the length of my shivering, fine coat. It slithers downward, leaving snail paths behind, “Noah!?"


Eyelids fling wide – their dark pit are tight, dilated and terrified. The optic rolls, showing white. My head lifts from the soupy ground; I can feel the left side, his favored, is coated with sticky, foul smelling mud. Bits of twig and leaf decorate and prod at the trembling skin. My darker, sterner twin is clean, though wet and shivering. “N-n-noah!” Lips vibrate their plea, but the name is nothing more than a hoarse whisper as my throat hitches and refuses to work.

Tears of panic and fear burn in the corners of my eyes, but these determined legs press forward to claw for foothold on the loose soil regardless. “N-noah?” Stronger now, but those traitorous tears break their cover; as they fall, their salt is mated with rain. These ears work backwards, sideways – listening to the storm and for his returning call. With effort, my shivering abates long enough to rise and take small, uncertain steps. The moment I stop moving, all four toes instantly begin sinking into the murk below. Aaru…his pure face comes to mind. Misery and panic bring a sob to the surface, "Aaru!?" again receiving no response; neither internally or externally.

“Noah,” a solid whisper…childlike almost. My gaze flexes, rotating upward, blinking sharply. 'Aaru...what happened? Can you hear me?!' Nothing...just the cold rain and gnarled, bare boned trees. The memory from before this moment is like a scene immersed in the glare of sunlight. I can distinguish an outline of what happened...but the majority is obscured. One thing was certain...this wasn’t that peculiar was… "Where are you?!" Finally, a reply did come…a grating, shuffling noise from behind. It could've almost been missed in the undertow of rain -- my pulse somersaults and resumes galloping. Every sense pivots, turning, “Noah...Nephele? A-are you there?”

Tag: @Noah

Portal Notes:
Magic 1
Transformation: Able to transform into a winged wolf.

Magic 2
Healing: Able to manipulate the cells of a living creatures to cure viruses, infections, knit wounds and mend bones.

Magic 3
Offensive: Can persuade small animals to preform small tasks.

x Her entire body radiates a soft, pale glow when she’s happy.
x Can walk on water.

Enchanted Item
x – Encyclopedia scroll that has a collective, ever expanding knowledge about medicinal herbs and poison. The scroll will log new information and read aloud if the user collects a sample and places it upon an inked circle inside.
Albino turtle dove
5 years old

Normal Items/s
x Tan deer skin purse with a pale, decorative shell embedded in the flap. Her purse hangs against the right shoulder; two thin straps encircle her breast and neck for stability.
Rift Presence
The maw that effects Noah is nowhere to be scene when it comes for you. Instead of it being the same as what Noah saw, this time the shadows creep back in the form of a lithe panther, watching you with a piercing blue gaze. Suddenly, it appears in front of you, purring lightly as it rubs its head alongside your body and vanishes into a strange black mist.

The mist then encases you, swallowing you from view and blurring your vision momentarily while it searches. And when it is finished, everything returns back to normal… Or as normal as one could be after seeing such an event.
the Rift
life from death


Transformation: Able to transform into a winged wolf.
Healing: Able to manipulate the cells of a living creature to cure viruses, infections, knit wounds and mend bones but doing so causes her nose to bleed.
The Rift eats your third magic.

Encyclopedia scroll that has a collective, ever expanding knowledge about medicinal herbs and poison. The scroll will log new information and read aloud if the user collects a sample and places it upon an inked circle inside.

Her body radiates a soft, pale glow when happy.
Can walk on water.

The companion goes wild.

The normal item transfers fine. Just link it to here as proof! And she was fairly lucky with the rolls, so the enchantment isn’t effected, neither is the first magic! :)
» Presence of the Rift «