"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.
06-30-2016, 06:36 PM (This post was last modified: 06-30-2016, 06:42 PM by Kitty.)
So Kitty has 0 tables and 0 art, but I'd like something nice to put the words of his secret admirer in! Doesn't have to be complex or anything. If you want to pick a quote then some sort of old classic movie quote would be cool. :) My only requirement is that it be very easy to read, my eyes aren't amazing and I often have trouble with very low contrast differences in colors.
You can pick any image or color or whatever you want. Things that make me feel in the Kitty zone are:
Bones
Deep, red brown
Ravens
Old Movie B&W Noir characters
Handsomeness
Tailored things, neatness
Old Maps (especially the ones in war movies with all the little figures on 'em)
Other war stuff???
Much love and a thread (or a teaching spar? advice on stealths?) for whoever makes one! <3
07-05-2016, 02:54 PM (This post was last modified: 07-05-2016, 02:55 PM by Tai.)
I tried to make it easy to read for you. Hopefully it's what you were wanting. ^^
Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn.
My body aches.
That son of a bitch, even in my head, the voice rattles - tired.
Absently, the primaries of my wings drag in along the ground. At some point, the muscles holding them tightly against my frame grew tired, causing them to slacken and fall unnoticed.
You may be wondering why I do not simply fly. Easy enough to answer for you.
There is a jagged cut running from the once-bleached shoulder down toward my barrel. Dried blood decorates the muddy remains of that front leg, the wound itself exuding a rancid odor; likely it's infected, but what the fuck do I care?
The large gash finds company in the bruises decorating my frame like badges of brutality. Each one inflicted by the same bastard's hooves, fueling the anger that resides quietly behind ice cold eyes. Much like the rest of my life, everything collapsed inward quickly. I am or was the right hand of the King. His name is Daa'hn.
Let me take a moment to just say - Daa'hn is a crazy bastard. Maybe, in the end, we all are.
Daa'hn wears a crown, a very special crown. Stop the head which spins a thousand lies, the skull of the former King, complete with muscles and rotting flesh and bits of brain matter. A lovely image, right? To say the coup we staged was violent would be an understatement. Still, I remained an important cog in the murderous machine of our new society. Until, of course, Daa'hn began imagining the soldiers - including myself - were attempting to overthrow him, placing the crown upon my head.
I don't want a fucking crown or a god damn throne, bitterly I repeat my answer to his interrogation in my head. The part I left out, the part I would never say aloud:
The only thing in this world I want is her to be alive again.
So, the heart in my chest refuses to die. The face on the back of my eyelids will not fade. The scars of my mind replay her body moving gracefully through Eikkahn. Yet, I am alone.
Alone, at least, because of lunatic who began throwing his delusions and hatred at my hide like daggers.
In case you were worried, dear reader, I kicked his ass. However, it would be wrong to say I left unscathed - physically, anyway.
Emotionally I was the same as ever.
Passive.
Tired.
Quietly angry.
Oh, I was also banished. Hence why I am walking in this forsaken forest, my mismatched wings dragging quietly over the loam, brushing against trees, losing feathers here and there. I feel nothing except the dull ache of my bruises and the insistent stabbing of the gash on my shoulder.
Nothing, until the light filtering down from the branches begins to distort into a shape I recognize. My world quivering, my grip on the earth feeling soft, surreal. From behind the trunk of a tree, a feminine figure so familiar my heart jumps to my throat, the dry tongue in my mouth hissing as I try to summon a voice to call out. Instead, I only manage a strangled version of her name. "Ha...na."
Her face flutters back to me, with warm eyes and a warmer smile. The warmth floods my face, my body begins to shiver for the heat makes the air around me feel strangely frigid. A smile, deranged and lopsided, pulls over gritted teeth. Suddenly, so suddenly, lines begin to form over her figure like cracks. My eyes watch helplessly as millions of butterflies take flight, the ghost disappearing in the beats of their wings, leaving nothing but the dark shadows of a forest and my heart beating erratically.
Then, my knees give way to the reality of my wounds and I fall, a crumpled mess of muscle and feathers. I am still conscious, if the current state of my sanity can be called such.
What a pathetic waste of space.
"Speaking"