"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.
He appears in a flash of red roses, portals tearing open and there he stands. The familiar sights of the edge burn into his flesh and there is an ache in his chest. Libertad can feel the wind brush hair across his face as he steps near the borders of his childhood home. His adolescent frame has slowly filled out into the man he is now. Beautiful with his hardened edges and glowering expression. Scars litter his back and oh he can already imagine his mother’s glistening pride at the sight. Hadn’t she always longed for him to be a warrior? He was, after all, battlebred and battleborn.. Briefly he had wandered with brothers, a blooming youth struggling along beside them as they waged their wars. A rose amongst the thistle patch, vivid and red amongst the brittle weeds. Some things are far too beautiful for war. Roses form around his feet, vibrant against the snow at his feet. Whether his sister awaits for him is a mystery.. Surely d’Arcy wouldn’t spend her days awaiting a prodigal brother.. Just as he hadn’t spent his days glued to her side.
The rose ponders on the location of his mother as he simply stands and waits.. Will she be bloated with another stallion’s seed growing inside of her? The harlot always seemed so eager to birth new progeny.. His teeth grind together. No.. He has not forgotten how quick his mother had been to leave him and his sister during their youth. He has come for the simple purpose of alerting his mother of his return, then he will part ways.. No matter the venom he feels towards the woman she is his lifegiver. Blood is essential.. That much he knows as he lifts his foot and watches a rose burst into a crimson river, staining the snow with it’s hues.
All of it is an all too familiar sight that brings a subtle comfort. Finally he grasps what might make his magic unnerving but it has become part of him. His tail twitches, stroking across a pool of red and it stains the tips. He stands in silence, his face a stony calm as he anticipates the greeting of a patrol. Libertad ponders what his mother might think when she finally gazes on his developed frame and sees him not as the boy he once was.. But the man with the scars and the roses, for he has become a nestle of thorns since his departure.
tagging @Nyx in case you want to thread but no pressure! Libby is basically here to say hi i'm alive(he's also waiting at the border if that's unclear in the post)
* tag me in all replies please
*force is permitted at all times
*pixel by padarii@dA
Where there's no Law tying my heart from the start..
I’m not sure if this whole being a warrior thing was ever gonna feel right. I mean, I was definitely a piece of this herd now, right? Truly and wholly and whatever. I had every right to walk where I pleased, talk how I saw fit (damn straight) and piss and shit up in this bitch (I mean, I say that like I’m going crazy with it but I’m not, I swear). But that’s where I drew the line with my membership; I could never see myself with the authority to tell someone to get the fuck outta here if I felt like it. I mean, hell, there was still a piece of me that expected someone to kick my ass out if they felt like it. Tossing dead weight ‘n whatever.
But I was walking the border now, what with that whole new feeling of naked vulnerability that was fucking with me. And walking the border had to mean something if I was gonna encounter someone who wasn’t a part of the herd, which spooked me, but what the hell was I gonna do? Ignore it?
Turns out, it was Chico who saw the dude first, from up on high. Got someone, he told me through our link.
I saw that I wasn’t too far from the guy. Is he in the herd?
Nah, no smell like it.
What’s he smell like?
Flowers ‘n shit.
Oh word.
Ye. Pretty boy. You might like.
Fuck off.
Roger.
I picked my way through the snow-covered underbrush, breaking through the trees to the clearing where the guy stood, tantalizingly close to the scent-markers. The snow broke into red at his feet, which got my attention real quick--but then I realized they were roses and that Chico was right when he said the bastard reeked of them. I mean, roses are pretty, but it was weird for someone to be wreathed with their fresh scent in the middle of goddamn winter. I mean, I’ve seen stranger shit, I guess.
I approached him, not quite catching the salt on his hide that would tell me he was an Edge bro, and not recognizing him anyway, so. I guess I was my job to catch him on the border. “Yo, what’s good,” I hailed him while Chico continued to fly above on his soft owl’s wings, “You got business here?”
The mare's cry is a primal howl of relief, the sacred bellow of a mother's joy. Her eyes refuse to believe the truth that has materialised before her in a blast of red roses; her son, her precious boy, her Libertad.
Despite her attempts to be a fearsome mother bear, Nyx's track record with her offspring is less than perfect. She has delivered six children since she entered Helovia, but of those six only three remain - Oizys, Arakh and Esinakh. A fifty percent hit rate of foal-keepage is far from perfect, and the silver's guilt often manifests across her face as she thinks of her missing children. Libertad, d'Arcy, Enyo....each one precious, each one missed.
It doesn't occur to her that her son may resent her for her disappearance during his youth. With the pure conviction of a mother, she cannot comprehend the idea of her child hating her for something she did out of necessity, not out of desire. Of course, the world cannot know that she left to hide her shame, that she disappeared for the length of her pregnancy in order to mask her slattern ways, that she invented a lie just to disguise the horrible, horrible truth. No, Libertad cannot know that, but she still doesn't think he will hate her.
Well, she's thought it. She's considered it, for brief fractions of time in her darkest hours. She always stifles the idea, though, because it hurts too much to contemplate.
There's another mare, the one who called the meeting of the warriors. Nyx doesn't mean to be rude by ignoring the short blue woman, but she has eyes only for her son. Heavens, he's grown - he's taller than her now, strapping and muscular, a stallion bloomed from the seeds of a colt. He's scarred, a thicket of thorns instead of the bouquet of roses she remembers, but he's beautiful. With a soft huff of greeting, the mare attempts to press her nose into the arch of his neck, noting with a thrill of pride how she has to reach up in order to do so. "Where have you been?" she murmurs to him, although part of her dreads the answer.
[ SOMEDAY WE MAY SEE A WOMAN KING, SWORD IN HAND, SWING AT SOME EVIL AND BLEED ]
Other characters have permission to use magic/violence against Nyx at any time.
There is a stranger that approaches. He takes in her appearance with slow care.. Squat and peculiar. For a long moment he studies the strands that hang from her head and he wonders whether they are some form of.. Feelers. The brief image of them shifting about like appendages almost sends a shutter of repulsion down his spine. Briefly his lip curls back but it settles back into a look of cold calm, an icy placidity as he let’s the warrior offer her greetings. Libertad’s tail twitches slightly and he offers a dip of his head to the mare. She is unfamiliar so he can only assume she is a new arrival since his own departure so many months ago.
“I am here to see my mother and sister.” Libertad says. “Nyx and d’Arcy… If they still reside here in my childhood home.” It is then he hears a familiar voice call his name. A torrent of emotions wash over him and he can’t pin down how to react at her presence. There is a certain disappointment that it isn’t d’Arcy, that he won’t press his warm body into hers and feel the familiar warmth of his wombmate. There is a void formed deep within his chest in her absence and he knows only she can fill it. Still, he must settle with his mother and her presence.
“Hello Mother,” he says. Despite all the hatred he brewed in his belly toward her, he cannot silence the part of him that loves his mother. No matter the fact she had left him and his sister with barely a goodbye, he loves her. There had been times he swore he’d never return to the Edge.. That Helovia has been left behind and he’d kept his back turned.. Yet here he is, crawling back like a dog to it’s vomit and he doesn’t offer biting words to his mother. Rather he lets her press her nose into him and he shuts his eyes for the briefest of moments.
“I was wandering.” Libertad murmurs, “Trying to find myself.. Where is d’Arcy?” His mind cannot help but drift towards his sister. Is there the same burning resentment that he feels towards his mother? Or will she open to him again and bring him into her warm embrace? He is desperate for her and he can feel his need reawakening deep inside. Helovia is hardly home without his sister.
Where there's no Law tying my heart from the start..
Oh what the fuck, Cheek, I scowled in my head, you dun’ led me straight into some kind o’ dramatic reunion party or whatever.
Not my fault, Chico said, and he fluttered down from the sky, alighting himself onto my wither. Not psychic. He strange, you check.
Yeah, whatever, still blaming you.
He sexy for you.
Fuck oooooff.
I hadn’t had a chance to get a word in after he mentioned he was here for his family. He ain’t smell like the salt of the Edge, but I guess it’ll rub off sooner or later if you went gallivantin’ ‘n shit in the forest long enough. I didn’t know who d’Arcy was, but I did know a Nyx (someone’s Ma) and the silver devil herself came bursting from the herdland to meet her son at the doorstep.
They had eyes and words and hearts (probably) only for each other--and I didn’t mind that at all, I mean, that was some family shit that had to be dealt with I was gonna let them do it. I’m not sure how well of a mental note I was gonna keep of this-- y’know, keeping track of just who the hell even lives in this place, and who had lived her before, and so on--but eh, I figured I was gonna have to deal with it in any way I could. “Captain,” I acknowledged, giving an awkward shrug before shuffling off, Chico’s head swiveling to keep them in view.
Aw, wanna watch.
Behave.
He nipped my croup; I gave a buck, throwing a foot out at him while he took off in the air again. Ah, well. Back to the grind.
Captain. The silver dips her head in a respectful nod to the smaller mare, acknowledging her as a fellow warrior. "Protector," she replies. Roskuld takes her leave, and the mare finds herself alone with her son.
She looks him up and down, drinking in every familiar plane of his body. The body that slipped like a promise from her thighs, the body that fed from her and grew strong beneath her watchful gaze....and yet the body she abandoned because of a lie. It has not escaped her notice that she hasn't seen his father around for a couple of years either, and she wonders what happened. The blood bay was a good man and an excellent lay, and he did not strike her as the sort to abandon his children. Still, there's probably a reason, and Nyx certainly isn't in a position to judge.
Wandering, comes his far-from-specific answer, but the silver simply raises a brow and doesn't question further. As he asks where d'Arcy is, a lance of pain spears Nyx in the heart. "I...have not seen her in months, Libertad. I'm sorry." Frustration blossoms in her chest. She wants to leave Helovia to search for her missing children - d'Arcy and Enyo - yet that would entail abandoning her remaining children. Again, in Libertad's case. She simply cannot justify that, but it's deeply unnerving to know that her offspring are out there and yet she is unable to search for them as any mother would do.
"Will you stay here?" she asks him, hope in her eyes.
[ SOMEDAY WE MAY SEE A WOMAN KING, SWORD IN HAND, SWING AT SOME EVIL AND BLEED ]
Libertad sees the exchange between the two warriors. He only watches the stocky mare briefly and then turns his gaze back towards his mother. There is little time to waste on idle conversation and he seeks only answers. It is not long before the short haired one begins her departure. The rose only glances her way once again and then turns his eyes back to Nyx. There is nothing but cold distance in his pale eyes, the boisterous light of his youth long gone. His leonine tail twitches at his heels and he simply listens to his mother, letting her take in his own answers and he anticipates the revelation of his sister’s location. Then she delivers the news, and his heart plummets. His expression only seems to harden further and what little glimmer of hope he has is crushed, hidden behind walls of stone. The rose has taught himself not to feel and he withdraws into the safety of callousness, for it is so much easier to be cold than to bleed.
Nyx’s next question almost elicits a frown but he keeps his expression stoic. Libertad genuinely ponders his answer and then shakes his head. “No,” he says, “The Edge is not my home without d’Arcy. If I linger here it will just be a reminder of her absence.” He watches his mother and lets his words sink in before he takes a step back, “I came primarily to fulfill familial responsibility and alert you that I am alive and well. I’m sure our paths will cross again Mother,” he gives a dip of his head.
The rose then turns and starts to walk away, leaving the trail of red in his wake.