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.

▶︎ 07.02.18 Mod auditions, SWP updates, and OTM announcements, oh my! (Read more!)

06.25.18 OTM nominations are open for July! (Read more!)

06.10.18 A much needed (brief) update has been posted. (Read more!)

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!)

Summer Year One | The sun is high and it is long, and with it as are the days. Summer has claimed the entirety of the Slidr River Valley and in doing so has cast higher, comportable temperatures throughout the Southern and Central territories. The Western still boasts snow capped mountains, but mud slides are frequent and they are heavy. The North remains green, just warm enough to cultivate and brood the new life there, but the further you tred the lower the temperatures fall, their mountains still ice cladden and snow tipped. The East, the poor souls, is sweltering. At night the temperatures drop to the Valley's daily warmth. Little can be done to add comfort, and each day the Oasis becomes drier and drier...

▶︎ 06.14.18 SWP alert! The gory remains of killings litter the Red Wood's Last Stand. What could this mean for the Valley? Read more!

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

Halani!

Thread of the Month

Blood Moon Rising!
Ad & Aff Plotting Updates FAQ Arcana History Graphics Discord

[O] | forget the face of your father

Hel

Commander
Equine
Mare
10hh
6 Autumn ☁
played by Soupi
165 crystals
18 posts



hel

"have you died before?"

Spring was coming. Hel could feel it. There was a quality to the western air that betrayed it's slow and steady arrival. She had come to a stoic, watchful sentry at the Herda Hillside, away from the increasing bustle of the Tryggr holds. While it was refreshing to have sentience back in the kingdom, and the entire Valley swelling with life again, Hel did not find reprieve in the chatter. She saw the way they looked at her, those that knew... Some of them had mocked concern for her for some time, others simply avoided her all together. It made no difference to Hel though. None of them believed her anymore. At times, she wondered if they even believed she'd died...

But how can you construct such a ridiculous farce? How could one so deprived of creative storytelling construct the illusion of Helheim? Hel's spine crawled and itched beneath her armor at the very thought of it. She can still see it, you know. When she closes her eyes, the crimson shadows come back, and the stench of metallic blood sinks so deep into her nares she doesn't think it could ever come out. Her banner of obsidian, swamp, and sand flicked, and her visage lashed back and forth with such ferocity one could have found it comical how her velvets smacked against her teeth. Her zeniths dug into her dreads, and her golden eyes slit, brow weighed down by the anger that thrived inside of her.

At least, Hel thought it was anger. The last several nights her skin crawled and prickled at times she had not anticipated. There were no shadow creatures tailing her, nor were there equine dismissing her claims. There was nothing to fear, and the world did not feel as if it were falling in upon her and trying to suffocate her. Yet, her smear of colors pelt twitched. It seemed to dance over her skin, entirely out of her control, as if compelled by some invisible force or partner. That had been another of her reasons to leave the holds. The prickling, the tickling, it had returned. Her banner lashed again, dead ends scratching at the leather of her bracers and straps. Another rippling tremor rolled down her spine and the vixen shook her visage again. Her breath swelled in her chest and she found it surprisingly labored.

She cast a leer to the woods around her. Even now, in the hillside renowned for it's darkness and ambiguity, no demons or creatures fought to find her here. Nothing came for her or sought her out. She could feel it. Hel had been keen to their gnashing and clawing for too long and could easily recognize their absence. So what was it? Silence fell on the hillside as she sank back into her armor and her visage lowered, hanging defeated as those predatory eyes scoured the forest with the white hot anger of a cheated god. Something was happening. Hel didn't quite know how to explain it, but a twist ached in her gut and her pelt continued to crawl. If she waited, it would find her. Be it Helheim's demons or some new enigma, it would find her.

WC: 534 | Tagged: Storyteller | OOC: Apprentice Quest

table by soupi



powerplay excused
within reasonable limits!
always tag responses.
@[Hel]


Storyteller

Moderator
Equine
Stallion
10hh
Immortal Spring ✿
played by NPC
920 crystals
69 posts

be swift!


Something is happening! It's in the prickle of her skin. Little does Hel know it, but that disconcert is her arcana blossoming. It will begin with nausea, a head swimming and filled with soft cotton and feathers, and extremities that are numb. There's no escaping it. It'll increase until the mare can take it no more when suddenly...

She's torn from her place, and appears several yards away, in a blink of an eye. Disorienting, yes? That is the magic of teleportation. But, wait, before Hel can get her bearings another blink! She's several yards to her left now, so close to a tree the folly could have been... well, catastrophic!

Welcome to your quest! Hel must fight against the unruly arcana and master her blinking! You have three posts to do so, and three days to respond to each Storyteller reply. Good luck!

Hel

Commander
Equine
Mare
10hh
6 Autumn ☁
played by Soupi
165 crystals
18 posts



hel

"have you died before?"

Prickling as if a phantom's touch grazed her pelt, Hel's lids shrouded her visionaries with the deep furrowing of her brow. Her murky banner lashed at her sides, skirting along her leather armor and trappings, and the silence that consumed her seemed broken by it's deafening scratching. This was different indeed... The resurrected woman wasn't sure she'd ever felt such a disconnect from her body since... well... when she died. A fiery hoof struck the ground with frustration, her audits swimming through a collecting fog engulfing her head and burrowing into her black dreads. With each degree her body swayed, for it seemed to become immensely difficult to remain still, Hel found herself floating in a thick miasma. Her orbs split only to a sliver, but the dark forest - growing darker with the progression of the evening - greeted her unchanged and without any specters or demons.

Gritting her teeth, a snort erupted through her nostrils. A distress budded in her stomach as nausea curdled in her throat. She could smell the bile bubbling as her sway seemed to continue. Through the distress she tried to reason what was happening to her... there were no harsh winds billowing through to knock her from her spot, nor was there any physical being. Hel seemed to float between two opposing forces that tugged at her, trying to pull her to the ground and bring the warrior down. And just has Hel attempted to settle into this swaying, just as she began gathering purchase to fight back against the nausea and the disorientation, tickling numbess materialized from her hooves and crawled up her extremities. Her gilt eyes snapped open, a sweat breaking out on her brow.

"What is happening to me?!" Her mind's eye screamed, but she found that her lips could not part and her voice was lost to her. That distress swelled again, and just as a real, true, and gripping fear placed it's hold upon her heart, the world around her blurred, and...

All of her weight was thrown forward, her legs scrambling to catch herself from toppling. Her hooves, suddenly back to her, suddenly cold and very apparent to her, dug into the moist forest floor. Was... she.. she was several feet from where she had been previously? The black faded mask upon her visage grew darker as beads of sweat rolled from her forehead and along the edges of her leather facial strappings. Just as her hooves stepped over one another to keep herself upright, she found everything her surrounds blurring again... "Not again!"

Again she found herself very suddenly several more feet to the left, her weight thrown in the same durection so furiously her shoulder jolted into a tree some inches away from her. A hiss escaped her lips as she shoved herself from the tree and scrambled back to her own hooves. Labored breaths raked her sides, and heat rose beneath all of her armor and she would have sworn steam rolled from her dorsal. Frantic, white ringed orbs cast themselves into the dark forest, scanning for anyone - anything - using her as some sort of sick occult test subject. "Show yourself, bastard!" Her hoarse voice pierced, found against against the confusion. "Take your tricks elsewhere!" Hel's voice cracked, breaking beneath another bought of nausea that began to rise in her throat again. The hellish shades of her pelt prickled again with another wave of unease and her golden eyes widened.

"Please no..."



WC: 576 | Tagged: Storyteller | OOC: Whoops that got dramatic

table by soupi



powerplay excused
within reasonable limits!
always tag responses.
@[Hel]


Storyteller

Moderator
Equine
Stallion
10hh
Immortal Spring ✿
played by NPC
920 crystals
69 posts

be swift!


Something is happening! The arcanum is controlling the user more than she it. Lost un the disorienting grip of the teleportation magic, Hel will have to release her automatic blame of others and look into herself to find the answer to this problem. The mare is shot in the blink of an eye to another location, the opposite side of the tree she collided. What would happen if she cannot get control of this new found prowess? Do you think peace can be found when you can never find your footing?

Hel will have to try harder if she wants to acquire the apprentice level!


Hel

Commander
Equine
Mare
10hh
6 Autumn ☁
played by Soupi
165 crystals
18 posts



hel

"have you died before?"

Again.

Thrown to the side in another blink, Hel's hooves did the best to catch her. Crossing over themselves, knotting at the joints due to her disorientation, the murky and fiery mare toppled to her side. The fall was slow. They always were. Becoming accutely aware of the incoming ground, her gilt eyes widened and stared at it. There wasn't much left for her to do, was there? This was just another thwart in her otherwise hard and painful life. For a moment, while her orange dagger slipped from the icy snow and lost it's footing, she concluded she would have rather face the daemons that lurked in her periphery. Despite their stalking and their threatening aura, they had not harmed her... yet.

She felt her resolution desolving. Like sand washed away by heavy rain, the defiance in her was smothered by the fear. How could she not be afraid? Tense for the primary portion of her life and waiting for the daemons to finally, one day, strike, fear was a familiar face. It welcomed her with ever flutter of her eyes upon waking, and it kissed her forehead as she slowly drifted to sleep and hoped - nay, prayed - that nightmares would not plague her dreams. Before her accident fear not been an enemy, but an ally. Those who faced their horde found weakness in their knees not from some sort of arcanum interference but from distress. Their survival instinct alarmed all those who may find nemesis in their horde and the unease that it inevitably created was their most powerful tool. It was stronger than all their teeth, all their hooves, and all their brute strength; it was fear.

Nearly fallen to the ground, mentally preparing herself for the harshness of the ice that lingered atop the snow, her gilt eyes visibly softened if one were to watch it unfold in slow motion. Charcoal brow unfurled, and there was a relief found there that she hadn't felt in the weeks following her accident. Fear had been a friend once. That didn't mean that it couldn't be again. Hel's legs were curled beneath her now, knees colliding with the sharp coat of frozen blanket. White hot ache immediately screamed in her joints as the frigid temperatures threatened to sink deep from the scuffs.

One final sweep, and the woman saw no one. There were no daemons nor gods here using her for their idle tricks. It was simply here. Who knew... was this all even real? Through the waves of discomfort Hel solidified herself. Her muscles coiled and her mind's eye rushed to take control of her emotions rather than the opposite. She wrangled herself from within, reached out with her bare teeth and grappled the nausea and disorientation. She faced this foe like she would any other, a battle, but this time of the mind. There was apprehension, for the mind is the greatest of battlegrounds and the hardest of foes. She knew it all to well. But this would not stop her. This would not rip her down and defeat her.

Her lips parted in a yell, a deep and guttural sound. It was her war cry.



WC: 529 | Tagged: Storyteller | OOC: Shorter since I'm hoping she can blink before she hits the ground -claps hands excitedly-

table by soupi



powerplay excused
within reasonable limits!
always tag responses.
@[Hel]


Storyteller

Moderator
Equine
Stallion
10hh
Immortal Spring ✿
played by NPC
920 crystals
69 posts

be swift!


Something is happening! If one wills it hard enough, their arcana will listen. And listen it does to Hel now with her war cry, that intensity that radiates off of her. Before her body has a chance to collide with the grounds below, she blips to her previous location. The nausea,
the unease, the discomfort... all of it fades away. Hel will feel the relief almost instantly. May she ventured forth without fear of this new ability, and may she master it at her soonest availability.

Congratulations! Hel has reached Apprentice level and may use her arcana! The according item will be removed shortly.





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