"Where brilliance is good and madness is better..."
Helovia Info
Helovia opened in February 2012! We are an active fantasy equine RPG
Where once the world narrowed into naught but gray dust and desolation, the gods called for life. Wielding the elements of fire and light, dark and wind, earth and water, spark and time, they have created Helovia. The realm is set within the mythical globe of Loorien, a planet rich with all variety of creatures and blessed with all manner of magic. Originally populated by nomadic, tribal characters, they've since grown into massive empires saturated with culture and history. Separated into four distinct segments of Helovia, called "The Regions," each band of horse strong enough and capable enough, took up the power and responsibility of leadership. Unicorns, old, wise and mysterious, took to the north, hidden in forests of mists and shadows and rarely making themselves known beyond their cliffs of the World's Edge. Equines, vast, organized and militaristic, split into two, one group went north to the Windtossed Foothills and the other group went south to the Dragon's Throat. Pegasus remained nomadic, making their homes in various parts of The Wilds in a migratory manner. For many generations, the land was peaceful and calm, but peace was never the way of the gods. With a clash of argument, war and bloodshed massacred Helovia, and in the aftermath, the realm was eerily quiet. Now, as newcomers sweep into this land, they are met with the lingering bitterness of the gods and the struggle to reclaim what was lost. Nothing remains safe or certain while sorcerers and soldiers alike brood and bide their time for revenge, honor and glory.
Site Wide Plots
Kaos :: The Beginning of the End ☼ - 6/2017 - Kaos placed Helovia in a time-bubble for a short period of time, but the Helovian gods are fighting back. But Kaos is powerful- far more powerful than anyone thought. This may be the beginning of the end of Helovia as we know it.
Kisamoa :: A New Kind of Kaos ☼ - 3/2017 - Kisamoa asks Helovians to help him restore the Spectral Marsh. Which side will you choose?
Invasions :: All Out War ☼ - 5/2/16 - New layout and the brand new invasion rules are up! Thank you for your patience and we look forward to getting started with this new adventure.
The Rift :: Gods Do Die ☼ - 8/2015 - Helovia Gods are saving the Rift from corrupt gods! Can Helovians band together against these foreign deities?
The Literal Ship ☼ - 2/8/15 - Oh no! You have to pair up for Valentine's day!
Sky Island :: Murder ☼ - 10/25/14 - Vesta has been found dead on the island, and the gods have called to you to solve the murder!
Sky Island :: Peace ☼ - 7/7/14 - An island has appeared in the sky! Clouds carry Helovians from the Veins to the sky.
Restoration :: We Welcome the Dawn ☼ - 9/21/13 - The sun has finally risen on this day, giving the land new light, but the Time God and the Sun God have yet to be seen.
Endless Night :: Broken Magic Plot ☼ - 8/30/13 - The earth god has returned and is walking across Helovia to heal the land. Every area can now be considered lush and prosperous, but the sun has still not risen.
☼ - 7/19/13 - The moon has risen in the sky, heralding the return of the Goddess of the moon. Lamp trees which light the paths have grown brighter, moon flowers which grow in dark places have begun to grow and prosper and the world is brighter, filled with a new hope.
Endless Night :: Dead Magic Plot ☼ - 6/22/13 - The gods of Helovia, in order to protect the world, have disappeared into the rift, leaving the world sunless, moonless and magic-less in their absence. Only the herdlands have a source of light, but lamp-trees with glowing leaves and branches sporadically line the popular roads and paths from place to place.
Doppleganger Plot ☼ - 6/20/13 - The God of Time is still struggling to close the rift though which the dopplegangers have come. He has requested that his brothers and sister assist in closing this hole, but without knowing why it opened, the task is proving difficult. Magic still remains faulty and hard to control, but the herdlands continue to be places of refuge for those who are fortunate enough to call these lands home.
ORANGEMOON cools off the lands with a a viscious force. Colder than normal, a sign of things to come during Frostfall, Helovia is bathed in a rich tropical lushness - albiet a cold one. The coastlines of the Dragon's Throat are pelted constantly by tidal waves, and the desert climate is humid but chilly. Ice begins to form early in the Aurora Basin leaving the winding trails slick and dangerous. The mists of the World's Edge coat everything in a glistening crystalline shine which encourages mould to grow everywhere. The Spectral Marsh is the only area which remains fertile, blissfully temperature and lush.
Cotm
Character of the Month for
June, 2017
WEAVER, Corporal of the Aurora Basin, is a relatively recent addition to Helovia and has taken it by storm. Branded with the seal of Death on her chest, intrigue and interest follow both her past and present. Though she is assuredly beautiful, her sometimes sharp personality reveals that there is more to this uni-peg hybrid than meets the eye. Proving herself able on the battlefield in the Basin’s warrior ranks, we can’t wait to see her test her mettle against the looming Kaos happenings! Congratulations!
Helovia RPG was created by Tamme and Blu and coded by Tamme also known as Schwartze. All coding, palettes and imagery are copyrighted to the website and are not for use outside of Helovia. Thank you to our ServerMaster for hosting Helovia. A special thanks goes to Neo for all of her coding help and fixing Tamme's errors, Boom, for her loyal service and creation of the Time God, and to Ali for her consistent contributions and dedication.
You wouldn't notice until you were half way through because after so long trees all resembled one another. Trees were just...trees. There was no shape or reason for them and it seemed like such a precise design. Put here that no matter from which way you came it all came to a point here and it was after miles traveled. It was a funnel for the wanderer and everyone knows after so long the wandering stop paying attention to where their feet go. It is merely one foot before the other.
Narcissus only managed to pull himself from looking to completely like some lost dog. Lifted his head and only after staring for so long - with having nothing else his mind could focus on did he realize the shape. He was already half-way in by the time he actually noticed and he laughed. How convenient. And what use was there to turn back? None ever wanted to go back the way they came. Narcissus was accused of many things , took part in more though none were ever that of foolishness. It was a one way road down the funnel.
He moved like a predator and not the pray animal nature had made him. To many years being the aggressor perhaps , to long replacing natures instinct with another for survival. Molded his instincts after another - borrowed them in a sense. Horned head hung low at an odd angle that was a habit never broken. A sub-conscious physical form he didn't even know his body formed. Remembered and conformed to - muscle memory. One eye seemingly doing it all , taking it in from both sides while the other stayed tucked away just like the side of his face.
05-22-2015, 02:19 PM (This post was last modified: 05-22-2015, 02:19 PM by Thor.)
The day had come in a flurry of color, only skewed by the graying clouds of coming rain, but it did not deter from again visiting the Threshold, seeking distraction. I had spent so much time here of late that it was becoming something of a second home, though not one that could ever rival the Edge in her perfect splendor. I didn’t care that the Goddess of the Moon had all but abandoned us. She would again rule the land by the sea; that was an unavoidable fact. Time would heal our wounds and we would again rise to the occasion- rise to power.
With the heavy clouds hovering in the distance, I pushed into the deep forest with Sabine nestled happily between my titled ears. I had certainly grown fond of the little Zephyr and her rambunctious personality, but I still longed to enhance our connection. It was an addictive idea that only grew with time, making me desire it all the more. Sensing my unease, the bird fluttered against my poll while cooing her praise. She too wished for the closeness and the Zephyr expressed her need through hazy colors that pulsed through my mind at breakneck speeds. Reds and yellows and oranges all portrayed her vigor and excitement for the future, while blues, grays, and blacks depicted blatant disapproval.
As we ambled slowly between the tall trees, shadows passing over my back like ethereal waves, I gazed out into the vast distance. Some days were better than others here and some were simply unsuccessful, but there was something encouraging about the half-light that passed between the limbs overhead. It felt as though the weak rays represented a hope for the future despite the darkness of the past; I wanted to believe all would soon be righted from such wrong.
When a musky, obviously male, scent greeted me upon the trail, I followed like the curious beast I’d so recently become. However, my approach was anything but subtle. I was more like a bear crashing through the underbrush than a refined animal once believing in stealth. Yet, what did it matter that I came as such a shock to newcomers? Did they not believe they would be discovered in a land so tainted by stale comings and goings? It would be unwise for a creature to strike out against a native anyhow, being so unaware of our capabilities… Besides, I came offering refuge, not war.
Upon catching sight of the shadow-man lathered in the pale light of late morning, I rumbled a low and steady welcoming. From the looks of him, he did not appear the kind of brute to be taken lightly; I needed to use caution if I wanted to avoid facing off with the three jagged horns that were thrust down the sharp planes of his mottled face. He was certainly a curious looking fellow with his dual colored eyes and cropped mane, but he appeared the epitome of a practiced warrior. He intrigued me. “Welcome to Helovia stranger, I am Thor of the World’s Edge,” I began. “Might you be looking for refuge or ere you simply passing through?”
Ophelia took a detour through the Threshold on her way North to visit Kaj and Archibald. She would be dutiful to her new herd and her new life. For the first time in a very long time, she would make a sincere and honest effort, for Torleik. The motivation she felt had drifted from time to time, but no desire was stronger than love. With such a strange and foreign heartbeat in her chest, she succumbed to its sway, the demon inside settling back down after her admittedly bitter outburst in the Aurora Basin. Deimos’ words happened to pluck a particular string, one that rang as far back as her father, and she grimaced tightly. She and her sister had won the Foothills, and there, standing, he had watched and turned his back. Words later exchanged told her his true feelings, stating his disappointment with her choices.
Then, she had been crushed, a fissure in her heart mended with callousness and anger. The sore behind that crack had festered and gone black, turning to emotional infection that oozed at any brushing against her insecurities. Ophelia never claimed to be perfect; she was far from it, but her history was very long, and she never forgot. She had journeyed from Isilme as a child, carrying her sister’s broken weight. Together, she had watched the empires of Helovia rise and fall, and she had partaken in a few of those.
A heavy sigh brushed past parted lips, stepping beneath a sea of fiery colors as the trees gave their last to the coming winter. She felt the chill of the breeze already and welcomed the advent of snow, finding comfort in the white, fluffy flakes that would fall and cover the land in a blanket. Strange, dual colored eyes walked through present and past, her memories nearly as clear as reality, and she inhaled the musky, masculine scent of two others in the distance. The pheromones were almost choking now that she was used to just one scent of Torleik, but she trudged on ahead regardless, not afraid of stallions and their often egotistical and sexist ways.
Besides, she had bigger issues to worry about, and her mind was full of questions and pains – such as Roskuld walking away after her confession. She would never admit how deeply that injured her, but the pain was there and the demon inside was already waiting to consume it as fuel for her rage.
The pair came into sight – one she recognized and one she did not. Thor, a stallion denied leadership (but who had been lead before), was talking to a black warrior with many horns. He was intriguing to say the least, foreigners generally were, and she narrowed her gaze with curious scrutiny. He was walking like a man defeated, or, perhaps, just lost in his own thoughts. She understood that feeling, and she came to pause next to Thor. Ophelia was no longer a leader, and perhaps, she thought, they were equals. She wondered how much ill will he harbored toward her, but it would do little good to dwell on such matters.
“I too am from the World’s Edge,” she offered quietly, looking up at Thor’s hulking size. Both stallions eclipsed her slender, lithe frame, but she was unperturbed. “Leadership has been changing here, and a warrior would be welcome.” She turned her head to the side, the gesture both mad and innocent at once. “Where do you come from?”
Undertow has come to take me. Guided by the blazing sun. Look at everything around us. Look at everything we've done.
Please. Anyone. I don't think I can save myself. I'm drowning.