Welcome to Slidr River Valley, home to the strong, the brave, and the resilient. Challenging the odds surmounting against them, the Houses of equine fight in a power struggle for ultimate control over the Valley. With the Bloodless fading away after the First Great Winter of Three, Fimbulvetr, the Slidr River Valley is in a state of discord as the Houses throw themselves into an arms race for power. From predators to the gods themselves every day ushers in a new obstacle to overcome. Fimbulvetr is a literate intermediate-advanced fantasy horse role-play with a survivalist concept. The environment is designed to work against your characters as they move forward in their journey through the arcana riddled realm of Slidr River Valley. With an immense history and lore, we encourage our members to create locals and "outsiders" alike.

▶︎ 03.27.18 Several OOC actions can now be redeemed for crystals! (Read more!)

03.21.18 The Slidr River Valley now has a (wip) map! (Find it here!)

03.12.18 Fim has some new staff! Congratulate Briallu and Randalin next time you seen them! (Read more!)

03.05.18 Moderator auditions are upon us! Think you can benefit Fim as a staff member? (Read more!)

02.28.18 Clarifications have been made to the "How To Join" section of the guide book, and OTMs have been announced! (Read More!)

02.25.18 OTM voting has opened! Select your winners today! (Read more!)

02.21.18 OTM nominations are open! (Read more!)

02.14.18 Happy Valentine's Day everyone! Fim is announcing Auditions for the Ambrosius Sovereign and a new Spiritborne! (Read more!)

02.13.18 "Kcsssh, Houston, we're ready for landing..." You heard it! The new Fim is open! (Read more!)

✿ Spring Year One | After so, so long vibrant green begins to peak through the fertile mud washed in from the heights of the mountains. Buds are peaked through their baby leaves and the trees are blossoming with new emerald leaves. Fawns peek through the forests and fields and birdsong has returned to the Valley. The entirety of Slidr River Valley is open to it's people. With the rising temperatures and the increasing life, predators abound. Careful, travelers, for they lurk almost everywhere.

▶︎ 05.15.18 Vromme's throne has been claimed! All hail Geminus!

04.28.18 Vromme's throne is empty and needs a new Sovereign! (Read more!)

04.07.18 Strange forces awaken in the territories! What ever could have caused them? Ambrosius, Vromme, Tryggr, and Exiles. And Andante takes the Tryggr throne!

03.13.18 An Ambrosius Sovereign rises; long live Caelian!

02.15.18 An aurora borealis is shining at Smár Lake! Check it out!

Character of the Month

Caelian!

Thread of the Month

The Amethyst Cave!
Ad & Aff Plotting Updates FAQ Arcana History Graphics Discord

[P] under different stars

Sariel

Nonpartisan
Equine
Mare
14.2hh
5 Winter ❅
played by Randalin
40 crystals
2 posts
  Sariel

"Oh you're going to regret that, sweetheart.” the angry words that sealed her fate months ago dance a haunting set in her ears as she mentally relives the attacks nightly. Locked in the realm of dreams she sleeps fitfully but silently, years of poor treatment conditioning down to her subconscious the folly of whimpering even in sleep. In her mind she views the attack not as a spectator peering from above, but as though she is truly there in the moment again…

His words periodically reached her, timed with each assault as though he simply wanted to teach her a lesson in manner. A violent lesson. The feel of his tongue soaking up her blood from the wound to her nape is one she sometimes feels even when awake; a ghostly, horrific caress. ”That’s for running from me.” He cackled gleefully, having driven his knee into her ribs hard enough to bruise a few and fracture at least one of them. He followed that up by tearing out several all important flight feathers of her already damaged left wing, they have yet to grow back. ”That’s for running from me, again.” He justifies that second attack the same way he did the first and even while trapped in the nightmarish retelling, her stomach rolls with nausea. He then strolled with a predatory grace toward her rear, but she could not move, frozen in both the present and the past; his attacks overlaid with memories of years of abuse so similar she briefly wondered if he is from Marothel. The vicious strike managed to catch her across both hind legs; his hoof first sliced a healthy gash above her right hock before glancing away to catch the left. It split the skin there as well on a diagonal so that when her legs are viewed there a line running across them both downward to the left and it forced her legs out for a moment.

”That’s for thinking I couldn’t catch you.”

Unfortunately for her, instinct drove her to lock her knees to keep her stance, whereas she might not have suffered quite so much had she collapsed to the ground instead. His tongue danced across the flesh of her rear, directly above her tail and she knew those horrible teeth were coming; and indeed they did. ”And this is for being in the right place at the right fucking time.” His teeth, coated in her blood, sank into her starlit skin before dragging painfully along her right side; it left a wound nearly a foot in length. As if that was not enough “punishment” for the “offenses” she committed against the beast, she felt the air shift a split second before he forced himself into her; bringing about a fresh wave of terror, nightmares, and pain. So much pain.

She tears into the present on a silent scream, tears freely flowing down her cheeks as she fights the nausea cramping her stomach. Slowly, she rolls to her feet and steps out of the tiny cavern created by the twisting roots of the largest tree she has ever seen. Not knowing where she has stumbled to and plagued with a sense of foreboding, but a welcome lack of visions, she chose to remain at the entrance of what appears to be a passage through the tree. Approximately two months have passed while she walked as far as physically possible before resting each day; desperate to flee Elysium. Her frantic pace, however, took its toll on her injuries and where most would be fully healed from the fractured and bruised ribs, she still suffers. I willingly pay the price. Shadows hug the fragile skin below her eyes, leaving purple flesh a darker shade of violet. Sleep does not come easy or freely, but she cannot afford to collapse from fatigue and so chooses to enter that realm of terror.

Though night still graces the sky, Sariel cannot take another session of reliving experience after experience. Quickly she ventures away from the safe nook of roots to the clear pond not far and slips into its shallow depths. At its deepest point the water comes to the base of her neck which is perfect for her to clear away the sweat covering her and it gives her a chance to see the reflection she longs for. In a way, the brute who plays front and center in her nightmares, committed a far greater crime than the pair who previously took from her. The royals did their best to inflict their worst without leaving a permanent reminder from the results of their violent lust. It is in these waters where she can only see the parts of her left unmarked, unscarred, undefiled. A shiver runs the length of her spine, tweaking her ribs on its way, and she permits a few more tears to fall.

Just a few minutes more. Then she knows it is time to pass through the tree; lingering too long in any one place a surefire way to put her back in harm’s way.





"Speech." | Thoughts.

OOC |  Skaug

Skaug

Nonpartisan
Equine
Stallion
18hh
9 Autumn ☁
played by Soupi
0 crystals
8 posts

Skaug

You'd think that one would grow some familiarity over time, even if it was spent in a labyrinth. The last recollection he'd had to the outside world was plunging himself again into the hellish maze of that damned colossal tree. In the all consuming darkness, where he was left with little but his own ambling thoughts and fractured memories, he found himself without guidance. Time and time again his tired extremities, littered with a veil of dirt and grime that clung to him so deeply he wondered just what kind of cleaning could save it now, drug through the corridors of the dim tunnels. Time and time again he was spat out to the bridge where he'd stopped upon entering. And each time following he halted, just as he had the first, staring down into the oblivion of phantasms and sheer ambiguity, wondering how many others who had been trapped here inevitably took the plunge to free themselves.

'For fuck's sake, don't kid yourself Skaug,' he swore to himself, a snort billowing through his mangled visage, consequently flicking dirtier threads of ink forelock from the bridge of his visage. 'You're likely to jump at this point.' Though it was meant in a humorous light, Skaug inevitably found none in it. Rather, it left him feeling hallow, a little more disoriented and lost than prior. In the past, he would have grown angry. Maybe even would have lashed out, had it been his years of youth. But Skaug was not the boy he had been then that acted without thinking, nor had he been the man who fell victim to his whims. Thankfully, or perhaps he would have jumped. Rather his leonine tail flicked while dull eyes of timber continued to stare into the abyss and the seraphim wings at his side twitched. Another snort, this one deliberate and drawn brought his horned crown away and his hooves trodding along the root and rock edifice. He wouldn't jump today.

If anything, navigating the tunnels wasn't as much trial and error. While others may have stepped cautiously, weary of just what may lay beneath their hooves in the blackness that consumed them, Skaug had grown accustom to the dull light. While it was small, it was there at times. Others, slivers of light poured in from breaks in the ceiling, though he would have put his life on the line to wager they were of some sort of magical manifestation rather than sunlight. When he passed beneath them they brought him no warmth like the golden glow of the magnus, but rather... well, nothing. The only evidence of their presence was the fact it offered a bit more purchase in the depths beneath the tree. At times he considered he was growing familiar with them. Had he seen that cluster of light before? Had he seen this particular pattern? There was no confidence to the thoughts, but they droned on in his head.

It was better than reminiscing on those loved and lost, better than facing his own failure. Again. He shuddered at a phantom image of a youth; she stood lone in a world of chaos. Dust, blood, and grime. A vigorous shake of his nape, sending the tangled and messy tendrils of his coal mane about it, shooed away the eldest of his demons. It was the last thing he needed to think about, trapped in this damned prison. To be entirely honest, Skaug would have been content to wallow in his self pity, sucking his proverbial thumb, and allowing himself to waste away. He would have continued to walk, disinterested in the dull reminders of his thirst and hunger, if it weren't for the faintest tick of hooves. He had to stop himself and train his harks, listen closely, to reassure himself it simply wasn't the echo of his own progression. But it wasn't, and he'd never walked as light as the stranger.

A spark of hope, or perhaps it was the slow threat of going mad from loneliness, perked his carriage and pricked forward his ears. Quartz eyes studied the crossing paths and winding roots before him, listening carefully to the approach of the delicate steps, until a shadow of amethyst caught his eye. Embarrassingly, his voice caught. Pushing forward, he hurried down the remainder of his corridor until it fed into the dim tunnel he'd spied the other. He halted briefly at it's exchange, passing a glance around the congested corner, and by damn there was someone. He could smell her now, and he wasn't quite sure out to describe the perfume. There was a texture to it that reminded him of his family's pauldron he'd discarded moons ago, but it didn't draw traces of malice or pain... but something... well, sweet, like spring bloom.

Though any other day he would have preferred to keep privy and turn a cheek in the other direction, he was desperate to get out of here. And fuck, if he had to be lost here, at least company would keep him from leaping into the drop offs littering this place. "Hey." His tenor called, stepping from the corridor and watching the delicate woman limp down the path. Was she hurt? "Hey, wait..." Hesitation rode his lyrics, and it felt foreign to him. He'd never hesitated. 'Fucking tree... See if I come back to this place.'


WC: 897
Tagged: Sariel


his will is done, he's half in the ground

Storyteller

Moderator
Equine
Stallion
10hh
Immortal Spring ✿
played by NPC
610 crystals
48 posts

be swift!


Something is happening! The Bifrost's favorite trick was the shroud it pulled over the face of time. The palpitations it may give a heart that is fearing of starvation or thirst is a sick fascination the ancient tree possesses. It seems Skaug was it's most recent sufferer, but lo... Sariel, a femme tattered and broken both inside and out, has stumbled into the midst of the labyrinth. Already lost, the both of them may find recompense in working together. Why? The temperatures, despite the touch of spring outside the tunnels and corridors, begins to drop... within minutes, their breath will waft from their nostrils in columns of brume. It may be best for them to get moving...


Sariel

Nonpartisan
Equine
Mare
14.2hh
5 Winter ❅
played by Randalin
40 crystals
2 posts

The dip in the pool did much to refresh her, the droplets clinging to the colorful swirls of her skin however, begin to chill her. Aching muscles and healing wounds steadily increase their ache as she shakes herself to be rid of the excess water. She winces with each movement and is relieved to have no cause to hide her discomfort the way she used to in Marothel. Expressions crossing violet features so freely is no small wonder for the fae-like woman. Her previous life did not grant her such luxury beyond her youngest days and she finds gratitude filling her thoughts at how different this land is from that horrible place. Sariel finds the large tree strangely comforting even while filling her with unease as fog drifts in and obscures the path.


Lavender eyes dance back and forth looking for movement, any sign of the unwanted presence of another life. She longs to be left alone with the few happier memories she possesses; her parents standing over her after birth, the vibrant features of Arihari, and even the grumpier face of Adunit. A small smile curls violet lips at the ends and her heart pangs violently in her chest with how fiercely she misses the pair who saved her. It is primarily the images of their time together that hold the pieces of her soul loosely together; their absence and the subsequent trauma endured tearing at the stitches they made.


The sensation of being watched draws her away from the flickering images of the duo's features, she immediately tunes fully back into her surroundings. Fear rakes its claws in a trembling shudder down her spine and each limb but still, she forces herself to turn. The sight that greets her squeezes the breath from her lungs and holds her throat in an imaginary vice grip; terror oozes from every pore and purple eyes widen noticeably. A winged man with four eyes and more horns than one should reasonably possess (to her thinking) greets her wavering vision and all she can think is, please, no more. She cannot bear another attack, her mind still processing and tormenting her with the most recent, and one of the most violent assaults ever laid against her.

She takes a cautious step back, her pulse pounding in her ears only serving to heighten the fear gripping her. His voice pierces the beating rhythm, the hesitant undertone gives her slight pause but still she shakes her head and backs away another shaky step. He is a giant compared to her delicate frame and for the briefest of moments Tantibus's features overlay his. Nostrils flare wildly and a dark haze shackles her vision, dimming it along the outer edges while her breathing becomes increasingly shallow. A panic attack. Her thoughts grant her that much before they scatter on an invisible breeze.


Against her will, lavender lids close over frightened eyes to concentrate on relearning how to breathe. She knows better than to panic and truthfully it has been years since she first had one; daily torment tends to quickly dull the reaction. "No." Her voice finally leaks into the air on a puff of air that moments before was not visible. Her tone is weak, brittle, her chords shaky at best and it is unclear if she speaks to him or to herself. The word, however, empowers her just enough to draw a full, chilled, breath and panic begins to recede slightly. As though someone tapped 'pause', her fear lifts a fraction to whisper that something is very wrong and it is not the behemoth before her.


Again, she speaks, this time with a bit of strength at the core of her rhetorical question, "Why is it getting colder so quickly?" The quiet murmur is more to herself than him, but if he knows why a chill is sinking warm-stealing claws into her bones, she will hear him out. Sariel's already trembling form begins to shake almost violently in the wake of the cold pressing in which sets off a fresh round of pain from unhealed wounds. Despite this new idea of listening to the giant, she keeps her attention directed solely on him to watch for any signs of aggression.

Skaug
SARIEL




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