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Home » Search » Roster » Whitepages » Records » FAQ » Guidebook
» choose your path
Open Espoir Canyons 
Currently championing:
She had done it. Hope had managed to trap Kisamoa deep within the caves of Hraunor while she set off to help the land heal. Part one of her plan had been accomplished, though much quicker than she had originally planned. So she returned to the section of the Rift that had only just been revealed, a brilliant smile gracing her features. Though her eyes smoked slightly less, and there were only two hopelights that danced around her antlers – the rest off to be guardians for Kisamoa.

Hope had remembered the party the Pinnacle had and decided that perhaps meeting in the Espoir Canyon would be the best choice. The land was close to the Pinnacle and Hraunor, enough to where she could still manage to keep an eye on what was happening with Kisamoa should he try to escape as well as rally the inhabitants. So she chose one of the gentler slopes, easier for those without wings and the ability to slip between the folds of the world to get from point A to point B, and called for them.

It was a gentle caress of warmth that reached out to everyone living within the Rift, whether new or old. A kind of beckoning, asking them to come to her with the gentleness of a mother’s caress. And then she waited for them to come. She didn’t mind how long it took, or what would happen after. All she needed were to have them appear, to tell them what she needed them to do, and pray to the fallen gods that they could actually revive them.


She waited until enough creatures had come, until she could easily glance at each and everyone that had appeared with that same brilliant smile gracing her lips that she had when she was reborn from the Pinnacle. Then, she addressed them all in that calm soothing voice she always had when speaking to them. Kisamoa received the darker side of Hope, but these creatures had personally done nothing wrong, she didn’t need to patronize them for it.

So she cleared her voice, addressed them all with a brief nod and began. ”My fellow inhabitants.” She began, her voice growing gentler as the story began to unfold. ”Some of you may know, but the Rift is dying. The hearts, when the Helovian Gods came to steal the lands cursed our own to turn on itself.” Her voice carried easily along the canyon walls. Hope had certainly done her research of what had happened since her disappearance. ”I have an idea as to how to fix this. And I need your help. I think that if we revive the Gods of the Rift, they can fix our bleeding hearts.” She shifted as she tried to gather their reactions.

”We cannot revive all four of them at once. So I ask you to champion one of the Gods, to follow tasks set out by them to revive them. The two Gods with the most fervor will be resurrected and we can start to heal our land.” Her voice began to boom across the canyon walls, her eyes lighting up as they glowed stronger. "Once, back before corruption spread into the Rift, we had four benevolent Gods. Vourib, the polar bear God. He was the one you looked for when you needed strength and truth. Caevoc, the tricky crocodile God dealt in illusions and protection. Vjanta, the elegant tigress Goddess was best known for her strong command and control. Finally, we have Reszo, the shadowy wolf God – a mentor and pathfinder, his traits were wisdom and knowledge.” She explained easily, shifting from one foot to the other excitedly.

”I ask that you choose one of these Gods to champion. Follow their tasks, help heal the world like you helped bring me back into it. I know for certain you all have it in you.” She spoke gently, like a mother would before putting children to bed. Then, she lowered her head and waited for a barrage of questions should they have them.

changes everything

Champions of the Gods

Welcome to the next chapter of SWPs!! This one is PATHS. Hope has asked you all to CHAMPION a God! The two with the most points will be revived. Scroll down for more detailed explanations!

Which one will you choose to Champion?

VOURIB: the polar bear God rumored to have steered his Bloodmountains, with the heart being the Blood Falls, into the Rift by his own volition. Proud and indomitable, his main traits are STRENGTH and TRUTH.

CAEVOC: the cunning crocodile God who duped even the Sun God of Helovia when the latter stole his Halcyon Flats. Surprisingly, he wields both fire and frost, but his main traits are ILLUSIONS and PROTECTION.

VJANTA: the three-eyed tiger Goddess of the South, whose home was the thriving and lush Riptide Isles. Vjanta, sometimes considered the aspect of life, is all about elegance, with her main traits being COMMAND and CONTROL.

RESZO: the shadowy wolf God, who once saw wisdom and truth and beauty in the verdant Green Labyrinth he called home. A mentor and spiritual pathfinder to all who seek his guidance, Reszo's main traits are WISDOM and KNOWLEDGE.

What is the objective?

PATHS is a sort of arms race: by posting and participating in certain events, you earn points for your chosen God. PATHS ends when one God hits (or goes beyond; we're not picky!) 200* points!
* this number might be adjusted, once we see how fast the plot progresses

For more information, please read » Paths Information

Currently championing: None

Oh, you feel her call.

Of course you do.

You don't know who she is, yet. Only that she takes you by surprise. A thread of warmth inching down through the winds of freeze and past the chinks in your spiked mental armor(oh, weaknesses, you've got plenty of those). You don't hate her, at first. You feel.... strange. Disoriented. Like half a memory laps at the shores of thought but never fully emerges. This, you do know: your wings open. The silver feathers light along them, shimmering and ethereal. You take to the sky.

And this is what you know, the moment you see her: she is beautiful.

She is your enemy.

The anger comes back as if it never left you. It pounds in your skull, in your heart, until it feels like a beast which might at any moment come clawing right out of you in a red, red fountain. You land hard, too hard, your hooves clattering, but you don't notice. The moonfeathers have faded before you've even fully touched down, but your wings remain raised, flared like hackles, as you catch the end of her speech.

She wants to bring back the Rift gods. She wants to save them.

She wants to heal this place.

You hate her.

You still don't know who she is, but you know in this moment hate is the only thing you need. It slicks back your ears and burns in your eyes, the only sensation you manage to feel at all as you push your way toward her, ignoring whoever else might be present. “BENEVOLENT?” comes the roar of your voice, a peal of thunder shuddering up out of your chest, threatening to break you in half. You want to yell louder. You want to cleave her in two with sound. “They're murderers!” you bellow, your features contorted with rage. And now you're losing any thread of coherency you might have had. You're angry, angry, and you want to charge her but some fraying strand of sense holds you back for now. You see the lights dancing in her antlers — you see her — and you know what she is.

“You WON'T,” you bellow instead, your sides heaving. A small rear, and your hooves drum an unsteady anthem on the ground. Your horn is down, braced for the center of her mass. Your haunches quiver, your whole body drawn like a bowstring, rage primed to fire and strike true.

countdown to selfdestruct

ooc// Just as a note, I don't mind at all if she decides to do something nasty to him for being an utter asshole, but you can ping me if you do feel that's something she'd do ;)
Currently championing: Reszo
Okay, so Yves shouldn’t have been such an antisocial jackass at the Protector’s party. Fine. The field guide is nothing short of incredible, and the little herbs that have begun to sprout up around his hooves when he is stationary secretly fascinate (dare I say, delight?) him. What are they? Are they safe? What properties do they have? Are they affected by the seasons? That old familiar itch of intellectual curiosity pulses through his brain, and it feels good.

Then the next call comes.

“What do I look like, a goddamn errand boy?” The dappled stallion mutters to himself, his good mood rapidly evaporating, but he trudges grudgingly off in the direction of his summons. Look, he said he was going to help Virga – he owed it to him to keep up with current events, and it wasn’t like he had far to go to reach the next gathering. The canyons don’t suit Yves; too dry, too jagged, too… red. He has always been more of a woodland kind of guy. But hey, it’s nearby. Hopefully this will be quick. A short walk across that dry and humorless landscape later, and he finds himself settled at the perimeter of yet another crowd, gathered around yet another supernatural entity. Phenomenal.

Yves listens. “The Helovian gods didn’t steal shit, so you can jot that down…” He grumbles to himself as the doe continues her story. Strike one for starting out with a lie. But while Yves opts for the ‘hear her out’ route, the aforementioned Virga goes with a more explosive tactic. He is a spitfire, that much is true. Yves watches, and he knows he should come to his partner’s aid, and yet... somehow he can’t compel himself to move. Tucked into that crowd of characters, all so prepared to heed Deer Girl’s instructions, the futility of it all strikes him. He has seen this play out before; he knows the passion with which devoted citizens will fight to save a dying land. Their dying land. He knows how this story ends. Virga can protest all he wants - hell, he is absolutely right - but at least one of these cursed Rift gods will be coming back. All Yves can do is make sure they get the right one.


Look, the gods obviously need all the damn wisdom they can get. Out of the available options, Reszo is clearly the least of four evils; at least the pathfinder stands a chance of having the foresight to stay out of mortal affairs, and of keeping whichever deity comes with him in line. Yves can play both sides of this field. Virga doesn't even need to know.

As the midnight black pegasus readies himself for fisticuffs, Yves remains quiet at the outskirts of the crowd. At his hooves, soft green shoots begin breaking through the cracked red soil.
Autres temps, autres mœurs.
Rixen the Vine King
Currently championing: Vjanta
i have late night conversations with the moon;

A few horses had already begun to assemble before Hope by the time I arrived. I’d seen them around the Rift before, although I wasn’t too familiar with them. I simply offered a polite nod to whoever managed to catch my eye, before taking my place in front of the deer goddess, waiting to hear what she had to say with both ears pricked forward attentively.

Hope began to speak of the gods, explaining that reviving them would help to heal the Rift once and for all. She went on about what we needed to do: choose a god to represent, and carry out their will. My lips pursed thoughtfully, gaze continuing to watch the large deer as she looked on to the crowd, probably wondering how we would receive all of this. Then, she began to describe each of the gods, to give us some way to distinguish them from one another. I listened with great interest. I wanted nothing more than to repair the Rift once and for all; it was my home, and I was more than willing to do anything to help heal it. I trusted Hope’s words, for I had never been given any reason not to, and found myself fizzing with eager for her to tell us more.

Though each god seemed to have advantageous qualities about them, I preferred the sound of the tigress Vjanta, a symbol of strength. To me, strength was not only a physical characteristic, but instead came in many shapes and sizes. It was something moral. Intellectual. Spiritual. It was not easily defined, and therein lay its beauty. There was a time and place to be philosophical - it was not now. Hope’s descriptions, brief as they were, would have to be enough information to make an immediate decision. We were all the same, standing before the deity. None of us knew much about the gods, as they had been gone for a long time. Each and every one of us would have to choose between them, whether or not we had an ideal amount of information from which to base a decision. But the perception that everyone around me placed as much trust in the deer as I did was quickly proven to be false.

Hostility hung heavy in the air. Virga looked angry. He was seething with rage, which boiled deep in the stallion’s system, as hot as lava. He was a volcano waiting to explode. And explode he did, in a fit of rage. Virga was little more than a stranger to me, and his accusations were rather shocking. I could hardly believe my ears. The gods were murderers? How could it be? I watched as he lowered his head, as if he was preparing to charge at Hope and inflict a mortal wound, waiting to see if he would dare.

Knowing I could not stand silently and look on, my voice rang out: "Is this true?" I questioned softly, glancing from Virga to Hope and back again. I didn’t know what I expected to hear. But one thing was for certain - I would need to know more before agreeing to help.


he tells me about the sun
and I tell him about you.

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