They whispered, in the comfort of the daylight, that when the gods left this realm that they took with them their magic.
They were all wrong.
When the gods left this mortal coil they didn't take all their magic and wonder with them. Drops of their power leached out like raindrops from a fat, heavy cloud. Strange things started to sprout from the earth where the magic fell. Flowers started to bloom out of season, trees bent like spines in places that no wind could ever reach.
The gods reshaped the world and their steps were like titans, making mountains out of molehills and rivers out of stone.
But their first wonder was perhaps the greatest, leached from the fire and sweat of Solis as he walked across the plains, among the herds of bison. It's almost impossible to find in the daylight, for it hides with the owls and the crickets and waits for the night to fall.
And oh! When the sun sinks beyond the horizon and the sky is coated in layer upon layer of black the plains alone seem to scoff at the darkness. Even the stars cannot shine brightly in the face of this first strange wonder left behind when the gods left their mortal bodies behind.
The pool of light can be found down between two rolling hills covered in grass that grows to almost horse-height. It shines brighter than the moon and it refracts, from its depth, light that's almost too bright to look at. There's heat there too, sweltering even in the middle of winter (almost unbearable in any other season).
It's almost unfortunate that the first horse discovered it just as summer tucked itself in to sleep and autumn blinked dreams from its eyes.
The banks of the pool, which itself is no larger in width than three resting horses, are almost more strange than the water. Whippoorwills made of gold and fire arc towards the water and they shed not pollen or seeds but sand. The ground around the pool is no longer soft loam but hard lava, black and littered with cracks that cluster in patterns that almost hint at something else.
Light pours from the water and makes the entire area look as if it's trapped in noontime. It's soft and hot at the same time and it makes horses feel as if they are parched and this is the only water left in all of Novus.
But is it safe to drink? Or it is better to stray far from this pool leached from the blood and magic of Solis.
How to Participate!
Deep in the middle of the plains there hides a pool of light. It's almost-impossible to find in the daytime but dangerously easy at night. Straying too long along the banks of this pool might cause a thirst that feels almost unquenchable. But do you drink or run away? Or is there another option?
Each character may reply to this post only one time. Rolls will be done and a staff edit will be posted at the end of each reply with Random Event results. You are more than welcome, and encouraged, to branch off into individual threads to interact with other characters. You may respond to the characters before you or your reply could be set at a different moment it time (this is totally up to you).
All replies after March 1st, 2019 will not be considered for a RE roll. Upon conclusion of this event all replies will be entered in a random drawing for a special item that can only be gained from this event.
Possible rolls and their rewards are as follows.
1 : Being around the water has changed the character. They will feel some heightened levels of energy when fighting. Character will receive the common agora item energy shot.
2: 50 signos
3: Being around the brightness of the water has caused temporary vision issues. This may be fuzziness around the edges, the ability to see auras instead of the details of their surroundings. The vision issues will last for half an IC season (one RL month).
4: 100 signos
5: + 1EXP point
6: 150 signos
To tag this account: @*'Random Events' without the asterisk.
Please be advised, tagging the Random Event account does not guarantee a response!
The red stallion was somewhere new again. It was always the same – he found a new place, established himself – built himself a home, and then the world disappears into nothing and he finds himself a wanderer again. Long ago, he’d been the one to leave River Enipeus. Far from the land where he’d come into the world, he wanted to run. But he’d been running ever since. At Ravos, he’d wanted to make a permanent home for himself. He’d developed a name for himself as one of Maaemo’s faithful, established himself as a worthy healer and a guardian to his dragonfly filly… but then, the world was swallowed whole by dark magic.
At the Rift, he’d found a land he could learn to love again, only to watch it burn with the wrath of the God of Air. From its ashes rose Elysian, and perhaps most surprisingly, Metaphor had learned to love again. Like all the was torn from him through time, his love was a beautiful but fleeting thing – and Katniss too was torn away from him. So now, he walks alone again.
His heart is heavy, but somewhere buried deep is a thread of optimism. There is wonder still in this world, and Metaphor strove to find it even when the darkness threatened to overtake him. Over his shoulder, Maaemo’s orb continues to follow him – taunting him almost, for its magic was long gone, and it was little more than an empty light… the same as the empty sense of hope within his chest. And so, the stallion wanders through this strange place, drawn toward the distant sheen of light in the darkness, allowing himself to hope once more.
In the clearing, Metaphor finds the golden pool, and immediately he knows there is magic at play. At his birth, he was unquestionably ordinary… but that was before Metaphor knew of magic and the powers it could grant. He’d seen beautiful magic, even wielded it himself. From a deep well within him, Metaphor had found a bonding sort of earth magic, and had learned to grow life in places where fire destroyed everything.
Of course though, for every vein of life magic, there was a darkness. It was this dark hold that had prompted Fantome to burn the Vale. Even now, as he steps gingerly into the warmth of the golden pool, he knows there is a risk to it. But time would tell, if the magic would take from him or give. Reaching into a satchel at his hip, the healer draws forth a small crystal vial, filling it and stoppering the golden liquid within. Time would tell if taking some would hold an advantage, but the healer was curious to know more.
Pan stumbled upon the pool almost entirely by accident. It was a day which began like many others. He’d woken in the Dusk Court, having slept in the swamp, collecting herbs and various swabs of mud to use in crafting potions. Nevermind that the amateur healer wasn’t very good at making healing salves… it was simply something he fancied to try. As he woke with bits of sticks and leaves caught in his mane, he’d yawned before trying to find a place to bathe away the last remnants of sleep from his eyes… so he found himself weaving back toward the sea where Oriens had granted him a shell… but in spectacular Pan fashion, he’d been distracted along the way by the inviting waves of grass along the plain. After all, a boy’s got to eat…
Only once he’d had his fill does Pan turn to find the sea again, but this time, the adventurer found himself lost. All the grass just started to look the same, so he’d paced in each direction a bit, trying to find a path out of the fields. Instead, he’d found the pool. Drawn toward it in a trancelike state, Pan found himself wanting nothing more than to drink the water by some strange impulse. He was sure that he’d never felt so thirsty in his life, and as he opened his mouth to draw in a breath, he could swear that all moisture was drawn from it.
Water. the boy croaked, stepping forward by some compulsion toward the golden pool, eyes glazed over as the trance consumes him. And when his lips touch the water’s surface, they burn at the touch. Still, he must drink the water… there is no other option, and he sucks it into his mouth with a voracity that begged for respite. It didn’t sooth his thirst, so the boy drinks more and more, until finally he can tear himself away from the liquid’s pull, breathless and sapped for energy as he collapses beside the pool. And there they would find the unconscious boy – not permanently scarred by the ordeal, but drawn into a magical stupor by its strange and mysterious power.
It had started as a simple outing between father and son. Honestly it had been far too long since he and Regis had spent some good, quality time with one another outside and away from the Dawn Court and the shackles of duty and obligation. Perhaps it was that lingering paranoia of Atreus’ company, but the thought of stealing his son away to wander the lands they called home and build bonds was a calling he simply could not ignore.
So, in the early morning hours and after a kiss to Eulalie’s pale cheek, Somnus had guided Regis away from the Dawn Court citadel to head northward towards the Viride Forest. The threat of danger had long since passed and without the fury of the wildfires, Regis could now go far without risking his already frail health. Together both father and son, along with their bondeds, traveled the forest, both lush and burnt. Even now, with the ashen ground passing underhoof, grass and shrubs had begun to regrow. Seeing life slowly returning to the land filled Somnus’ breath with relief; if such a decimated location could recover and regrow, then surely so could they.
They paused whenever Regis needed a break, and sometimes Somnus himself would halt their little adventure simply to breathe, rest, and take in the beauty of the world. While he knew that his young son - now a yearling, Oriens be praised! - had a level head on his shoulder and was far smarter than he gave himself credit for, there were lessons that the dunalino knew he would need to pass down to the young Prince to prepare him for adulthood. This little adventure was the start of many lessons to come, but he made certain to have fun along the way.
Gradually the Viride Forest merged into the Eleutheria Plains, the thick forest beginning to dwindle until only sparse trees and tall grasslands remained. Above them the skies began the ever constant cycle of switching from dusk to nightfall, and he knew they would need to find a place to bed down for the evening. The tall grasses and Regis’ shorter stature clearly did not mix, and Somnus took great care to not let the dun boy be swallowed. “Stay close please, Reggie. I don’t think your mother would appreciate it if I got you lost in the grass.”
Weaving through the grass, it didn’t take long for Somnus to catch sight of something odd glowing in the distance. He paused, an ear flicking forward as his stance grew somewhat rigid. What in the world? Glancing upwards at the evening sky where Alba circled overhead, the dunalino tilted his head. ’Keep an eye on things, Alba. Don’t let Regis out of your sight, just in case.’ The barn owl swooped down low but did not land, choosing instead to remain in the air. Her reply was instant; ’Of course.’
“Do you see that glow, Reggie?” It was eerie, and Somnus wondered how he had never taken note of it before. Was it new? Had he just not been around when the time was right? Was it a seasonal thing? It was hard to say. Regardless, father and son made their way through the tall grasses, the dunalino continuously glancing over his shoulder to ensure that Regis was following. He knew that the boy was not prone to wandering off, but the last thing he wanted was for him to get lost.
Eventually the tall grasses ended, revealing a golden, glowing pool of what Somnus highly doubted was simple water. He had encountered enough magic in his lifetime to know when what he was looking at was magical, and this was just that. The blood in his veins seemed to grow warm with his pulse, narrowed eyes watching the glowing, swirling pool of water somewhat distrustfully. The sheer vibrant glow of the mysterious pool of water seemed to illuminate the world around them as though night had not even fallen, or at least early evening, and Somnus turned his head to brush his muzzle against Regis’ forelock. “Careful, son.”
The analytical part of the tactician’s brain snapped to work. There was no way that this had been here for very long. Somnus was certain that he would’ve seen it before, or heard rumors. With how often Ulric patrolled Delumine’s borders, the Warden had never once mentioned a glowing pool of mystery liquid. What could it be? Daring a step closer, Somnus lowered his head, breathing in deeply to catch the scent. It smelled… Strange. Foreign, yet oddly familiar. As he examined the pool, however, he realized something positively strange; his throat growing mysteriously dry and scratchy, as though he were terribly parched. He coughed, trying to rid the feeling from his throat, but it did not relent.
No one else was around save he and his son, but nothing bad seemed to happen. Sending a short, mental prayer to Oriens, the Dawn King slowly took a step into the glowing pool, watching as the liquid sloshed about his hoof and covered it entirely. Nothing happened. The water was warm and the very air about them seemed oddly humid despite the autumn season, but it was almost soothing, the warmth from the pool. With another deep breath, Somnus ventured further into the pool of water until it was up to his chest, and he glanced back at his son.
“… Sometimes, Regis, one must search for clues in ways that seem positively inane when faced with the unknown. If you’d like to come in, I see no harm, just be careful you don’t slip.” The glowing water soothed his muscles, the golden shine almost matching his gilded coat, but his eyes were rooted to the form of his son.
She didn’t know if it was the Hunt, or the midsummer festival, or the maze - but something had shaken something loose in Elif, had woken her to the world outside of Solterra and its sun-baked walls.
Now, it seemed, she couldn’t get enough of wandering; each morning she stepped from her bed to her balcony, opened wide her wings to the sky. In the mornings it was still cool enough that she didn’t feel like Icarus, but by the time the sun rose full and hot in its summer-strength she was well beyond the desert and the heat on her back and wings felt like a bath. Elif felt sun-soaked, the wind her only companion, whispering to her, carrying her.
Today, with the only hint of autumn the way the breeze was a breath of cooler air against her cheek, she took her time of it - she bedded down for a nap near the shadow of Dawn Court’s great and reaching forest, dozing until the sun sank lower and lower still, until it was only a slow goodbye on the horizon.
She might have only gone home, once she had risen again to the lazy updrafts, except for the unnatural glint of gold that caught her eye like a ring might a magpie. Elif was more aware than she had been (though no less proud) of how much more there was to the world that she might know - yet this still struck her as unusual, sent a shiver of instinct wending its way down her spine to see that odd gold. In a way it reminded her of the falling star she had witnessed - something not of this world.
Of course she investigated.
The bay spiraled a few times before she landed, and each circle only heightened her curiosity. By the time she was low enough to see the strange birds, like little phoenixes, there was no question of her turning back; the girl was rapt.
It made her think of the maze - the unnatural heat of it, the brightness like she had carried her noontime nap with her. She could feel the heat rolling over her in waves, like Solis or the sun, before she landed in the shoulder-height grasses; she tried to be cautious as she drew nearer and nearer yet, her hooves echoing strangely on the cracked and gleaming ground.
By the time her shadow fell over the water there was only one choice left - to drink, to not drink. But as her gaze trailed the firebirds with their trailing tails of flame, it didn’t much feel like a question at all - not when she was so thirsty, not when the water was so gold.
Elif folded her wings, bent her head, and drank.
“Do not be afraid to bare your teeth -”
Open to any if we want to branch off with a thread after roll results!
***STAFF EDIT
@Elif has rolled a 5! She has been awarded +1 EXP point for interacting with the pool.
02-07-2019, 11:33 AM
Played by
Zombie [PM] Posts: 103 — Threads: 8 Signos: 325
Her best work is done at night when the sun has set and most of the inhabitants of Novus have tucked themselves into their beds. It is in this time that Sloane leaves the safety of Delumine. She leaves the little island that Ulric showed her to, the one right next to the squirrels that start fires with the spines along their backs. So far it has been a peaceful neighboring relationship. No fires on her island and she leaves the little critters alone. But tonight, tonight she leaves her little island to explore more of Novus.
She follows the sounds of crickets and cicadas as she heads further into the planes. The grass seems to grow taller and Sloane wonders if there are others that hide among the tall grasses. If she were here to spy, she certainly would have used the flora to her advantage. But there is no one else here. There’s no one here but herself and something strange up ahead - something she intends on exploring.
There is a small area of nothing but light. It’s an odd thing to see in the dead of night, but he has her attention so perfectly. She steps forward until she breaks out of the grass and onto a strange pool. There’s heat there and a black substance that she’s seen before. It looks like hardened magma, like form a volcano. She’s seen a volcano a time or two. But perhaps what was more shocking was the whirlpools of fire and gold. It’s strange and Sloane knows that this is nothing but magic.
She stands there for a moment, studying the pool and feeling the way it makes her thirst for the waters it holds. But Sloane knows that she cannot drink from this pool. Drinking from this pool would only lead to her demise. And so, she steps back from the pool, retreating quietly back into the grass to watch it from afar.
This place was still new and confusing for the bay, but he kept onward, learning each and every crevice of his new home. It would only do him well to learn the ins and outs of this land. If he were to thrive here, he would need to learn to accept this place and all those that lived within it.
It was midday when the bay wanders into the plains, the tall grasses almost swallowing the bay as he walked. It had been a long time since he had been around grasses so tall, but he welcomed the tickle of the grass against his belly.
He was looking for nothing in particular when he so happened to stumble on the strangest sight. Though he did not see the light it emits, he did notice the strangeness of the pool. The odd colors of the water and the banks of hardened lava. It reminded him of the Rajput Nation, of the kingdoms he had lead in his time on Hoof Prince. The heat and volcanic activity had not deterred him then and it certainly would not deter him now.
The closes he steps, there is something else that catches his attention. There’s someone there, someone slumped in a heap along the bank. Rhone steps forward, his eyes cautious as he looks for danger. He comes up to the other stallion, his nose touching the other’s soft skin. "Sir, are you alright?" He looks to the water and steps towards it, using his hoof to splash the water towards the stranger in the hopes that he awakes.
It is no secret that Saphrax likes to be the center of attention. He likes knowing that all eyes are on him and that people actually see just how sexy he is. So naturally, the fiery stallion chose this particular evening to fly around Novus, making sure to fly low so people below could admire him from afar. He made sure his feathers were perfectly preened, his skin healthy and near white, and his ego boasted with self-pep talks in front of a mirror.
The last place he flew on tonight’s rounds was across the plains. Something about the air here felt warmer. He doubted that anyone was lurking amongst the freakishly tall grass, but that didn’t matter much. What did matter was the enormously large amount of light that radiated from a single pool between two hills. How dare it show so much light! He was supposed to be the only one to light up the sky as bright as day. So naturally, he changes his course and flies closes to the pool. After all, he had to see what sort of magic this was.
As he lands on the bank, he looks down at the ground and can’t help but think that something burned the shit out of the ground. Then, he had to wonder if it would turn his perfectly white coat black. That simply could. not. happen.
He eyed a small smudge on his leg, do doubt picked up from his stellar landing, so he figured that he might as well wash it off in this conveniently located pool of crazy-colored water. It only briefly crossed his mind that perhaps he shouldn’t go in the water but that thought was nixed as soon as Saphrax looked at the black smudge on his leg. Nope, it would have to be washed.
And so, he stepped closer to the pool and walked in just far enough to cover his legs. Looking down at the pool of water, he admired his reflection. Yes, he looked so damn sexy. This lighted pool had nothing on him.
After the emotional reunion between Katniss and Metaphor, the silver black mare was not about to let Metaphor out of her sight. So where he walked, she followed. She followed him through the tall grasses of the plain and towards this strange pool of light.
When they arrive, she looks at the golden pool as Metaphor takes a vile to study for later. She is hesitant, cautious even. Something about this golden pool has her uneasy. It makes the small hairs along the back of her neck at the base of her mane stand on end. Something about this pool is filled with magic, a magic she should be cautious of. She watches it closely for a moment before she steps forward.
Despite the feeling that she should leave this pool immediately. She feels the draw to it and she cannot help but feel the unquenchable thirst that she seems to feel the longer they stay here. Looking to Metaphor, she speaks quietly. “There is dark magic here…I can feel it.” But she knows she must keep studying it. After all, how could she defeat a magic that she didn’t understand? She takes a step into the pool, letting the golden waters surround her hooves. She can feel the heat that it radiates. In an instant, she steps back, unsure if this water was safe for even looking at.
Seasons have come and gone like leaves upon the trees that freely gift their sons and daughters back into the arms of the earth. Moira was not taught to believe in such deities though, gods of the earth and sky and rolling hills. She practices what she knows, follows the science she can see, and stocks up on supplies when they run low. Her heart beats frantically for one who she has yet to confess to, a nervousness flits in her stomach that comes unbidden at the most inopportune of times. Golden eyes can hardly meet swirly chocolate depths that are made of colors even her paints struggle to reach. Perhaps charcoal - how many portraits and half finished smiles lie waiting for her to look upon them in her chambers and tucked into library books that haven't been seen for ages?
Perhaps he's an addiction taken root, a stone thrown in a pond with the ripples reaching even her distant heart, an itch she can't quite reach but how she tries to. Someday, maybe, Moira will be able to look at him instead of laughing into a cup of tea and trying to figure out what to say next. While she's never been the most social, the phoenix is usually more adept at the art of conversation and intrigue than murmured responses and blushing, bumbling, unsatisfactory replies. Lips curl down at the thought of it, the memory, and discontent sweeps in where a strange giddiness once stood.
Dark and ominous, it accompanies her journey over the lands, further and further with only her thoughts and wings that flex ever so oft. Caine should have taught her to fly, but then he became busy and distant. Oh, the man infuriates her anyway. Simply to spite him she works at it on her own; red pinions flexing and pulling in against their every will to tuck once more firmly against the Pegasus' side. They reach toward the heavens that watch her, starlight winking with secrets that would taste like honeyed poison should she try to pry them from the icy grip.
Hours pass endlessly, how many she lost count. Unicorns and Pegasi and gypsy boys that smell of the sea and softness run through her mind on repeat. Boys who spout of love and foolery about a girl who makes them stronger run rampant around the edges, chafing her and the words she so foolishly uttered. But they were the truth - her truth. Just before dawn is when she stumbles into the plains, feet heavy and tired as the drooping of her eyes. Eyes that are drawn to the pulsing light between two hills... Curiosity visibly brightens her, brings spirit back into her body and pulls her weary legs a little higher. Wings flex, extend, pump, retract. Over and over the motion is practiced as Moira Tonnerre approaches the mysterious glow. Were she with a companion perhaps she would advise they leave, but Moira is so reckless when alone, so prone to dreaming when awake, and finding something strange, something new has always been a lure.
Golden eyes fall on golden pool, the surface too bright to look at directly. It's burning magnesium - brilliant and blinding should she stare. Circling about the edge, the woman finds evidence of others in the tracks left behind. Some lead to the water that ripples invitingly, others hesitate and turn as though continuing was ill advised. But which was correct, and where are they now?
Humming, Moira finds a small divot in the ground where a body may have been, there she turns away from the pool and finally lies down. Head rests heavily upon the soil, water laps at her back and lulls her into tranquility that pulls her into a dreamless slumber. Seasons come and go like the hours that she passes in her sleep.
