"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.
06-03-2017, 10:54 AM (This post was last modified: 06-08-2017, 11:36 PM by Tembovu.)
Gone was the heat of Tallsun.
Gone, too, was the pride of an Elephant. The King, though knowing that his choice was right for the Edge and his family, was not sure that it was the right choice for him. There’s equal parts selfish and selflessness in leadership. And Tembovu was finding himself at the mercy of one and vehemence of the other.
Black-rimmed ears tilted back as too-dark navy eyes lined with too many lines surveyed the mostly-cleared section of land that hung precariously over the crumbling limestone cliffs. He could not ignore the stirring of pride in his chest—how quickly the Edge rose to histheir goddess’s challenge. But he also could not ignore the twinge of guilt his chest—he had done nothing to help this. He, the large, brawny, and towering Elephant had not aided in clearing this land.
Mbwene hung behind her bonded, blue eyes worried in a wrinkled grey face. Though she shared a part of the Elephant soul, her own emotions were not those of the King’s. Hers were happy—she liked having the King near his family. It made them happy, there were no more fights, she had grown quite fond of Remy…but the part she shared with Tembovu was filled with conflicting angst, loneliness, and joy.
And those conflict manifested themselves as a flying earth and tearing roots; the King thought to use his magic and burn away the remaining shrubs. He thought to shift into his elephantine form and clear the earth with his ivory tusks.
But he didn’t.
Sweat clung to his hide in the humid, oppressive heat of Orangemoon’s mid-day; a leftover tiding of Tallsun. This was sweat-equity: if he could not give the Edge his leadership, then he would give it his blood, sweat, and tears.
I loathe your prayer. I wallow in sin. Let the nightmare begin.
The dark prince had been…disgusted with his father’s abdication. To the glided black young man, there was nothing more alluring than power—this had always been his way, since he had seen the Reaper call his first meeting in the Basin.
And now—to live with his father a ex-King…Dark, dangerously glittering blue eyes stared out from the Edge’s murky shadows. The mists swirled in and out, playing tricks on the high sun’s stark glare. But what did not waver was the blue daggers thrown from the shadows.
He watched for a few long moments, hateful eyes scouring every long trench his father dug through the rich, black earth. There was so much power there, in his sire. The son knew, he had seen it. The magma elephants, the tusks, the magic. Why didn’t his father use it? Why did he toil so, dripping sweat and allowing sharp shrubs to knick the thick, buckskin hide? The sight caused something to stir in his gut—something he had not felt since Kiada had confessed her worthlessness to the spotted cat so long ago.
Black-rimmed ears tilted back, intense stare breaking (finally), gaze caught by the nervous, twining movements of Mbwene’s trunk. Keusi’s teeth sheared against each other; she did not like the small matriarch that had ruled over her and Kahari’s hunting tendencies with an iron fist trunk. Too many matriarchs in the kitchen—or something like that.
But Kianzo (strangely) didn’t mind the small elephant. Perhaps it was her no-nonsense attitude and thus power she wielded so easily in her small body. Or, perhaps it was Mbwene’s obvious disapproval of Tembovu’s absence in the twins’ life (and any disapproval of his father endeared her to the colt).
So, slowly, stealthily (thanks, Laurelin), the ashen man stepped out of the shadows, coming up alongside his father’s bonded. Bright blue gazes met—one worried, one dubious—before the matriarch motioned towards the Elephant with her trunk, as if urging the son to go to his father.
A deep breath filled the colt’s sides, hesitation filling his filling-out body…and then he stepped onto the freshly torn earth. “Hello, father,” was his quiet, deep murmur. Dark eyes flickered from the Elephant to a stand of old juniper trees. Slowly, poisonous hot gas and ash gathered at his chest; hyena’s jaws snapping as Kianzo’s magic went out and shriveled the trees to ash.
Questioning, defiant, challenging eyes stared at his sire. Waiting.
Her father had been up early, it seemed. No longer King of the land, he roamed whenever he wanted but remained home with her mother. It was a nice sentiment, she guessed, but it made things a bit more annoying. She was a healer now, tending to plants and finding them out and about, and while she never really did those tasks, that was what she told them she was doing. And after the reunion with her brother, things began to feel right again, even the slightest bit comforting. It reminded her of when she’d sneak out of the Basin to the Threshold, doing her best to be inconspicuous despite returning home with the occasional creature.
This was different in a way. She was an adult now, and her father didn’t really have any power over her. And where he might have held power as being the ruler, he had given up that role and pertained to just being a family man. So when her father left that day, and Kianzo shortly after, Kiada and Khairi thought it best to follow them. She, too, was quiet as she crept up behind the two, silently surveying how much Kianzo resembled her father, but in a much more charming and handsome way.
His voice murmured a hello to the Elephant King, and Kiada quietly stepped in as well just after Kianzo’s magic left his chest. As she approached, she reached her pink muzzle out to her twin’s gilded hip before offering him a small smile. “Hello, father.” She reiterated from her brother, sounding much similar but far more feminine. Then, as if she were to help as well, Khairi flew from a nearby tree, gathering trash and things of the like into a small pile before Kiada sent one small fiery tornado into the pile to burn it to ash.
06-04-2017, 06:52 PM (This post was last modified: 06-04-2017, 07:17 PM by Yael.)
yael
While assisting Isopia and others in building the hot tub, Yael learned that heavy work is best done in her dragon form. She’s also learned that that particular form is not expected of her - who, besides Sacre and a few others would dare to think that the very petite, non-threatening, sweet little lady is actually a silver-white dragon? And since she doesn’t want to alarm anyone… best to approach the working group as she is, and shift later. There is also Zani to think about, and how the little kitten will take to the more powerful side of his bonded. The inklings of power lie within her, dormant and subtle, and though she is an open book to the young serval, and he has yet to question how she brings him his food - for he is still too young to do more than patter after butterflies. In a very cute, non-killer way.
Dull thuds, the sounds of hooves on wood, and the smell of smoke bring the Seer to what is now her responsibility. They may call it a Herd Quest, but Tembovu asked for it, and now she is the Goddess’s delegate - so in a way, the responsibility is theirs (though he is no longer King, and she had been taken elsewhere during the early work).
Zani scampers towards them, only so far towards the trio and their companions until he catches sight of the hyena and freezes, tail going stiff and eyes wide. Neither the elephant nor the vulture seem to faze him - but this, this natural predator stops him in his long-legged tracks. Yael is already following him, but his fear brings her to his side that much more quickly, nosing at him until he unfreezes and retreats between her legs. There is tension in the air, but aside from that, the Seer is ignorant of the former King’s relationship with his children, and so she tries to dissipate it with a smile and a cheery “Good morneeng! I’ve come to xelp… ah, xope I am not eenterupting anyt’ing.”
And with that, she steps back and herds Zani towards a bare area of rock, telling him to stay there, then proceeds to change into a silver-white dragon, the hue of her locks stretching to cover the whole of her now-scaled body. “Ah, yesssssss… much better…” she murmurs, looking towards the group and the smoldering pile of brush. There is still plenty to clear.
The Elephant paused in his physical endeavors at the subtle change he felt through his bond with Mbwene—“Hello, father.” Navy eyes jerk to the suddenly appeared young stallion alongside him; gone was the golden colt he had first met in Rexanna’s cave within the Basin so long ago.
No greeting smile lightened the Elephant’s face as he met Kianzo’s defiant gaze; his nostrils flared as the fresh scent of juniper mingled with the acrid smell of ash and gases, his son’s destructive magic well at work to clear the juniper trees.
Echoing his son’s deep voice is his daughter, who appears in a much less sinister manner. The Elephant’s navy eyes watch her pink lips brush against her brother’s hip, and it is only then that a glimmer of a smile curved up the corner of his lips. Though he had never outright asked what riff existed between the twins, it was clear there had been something amiss within the family’s caves. Now, however, it appeared that all was well and his golden children were close once more.
His brows raised slightly as his gaze jerked to the flaming pile his daughter’s white vulture assembled. He had yet to truly see Kiada’s magic, and it was certainly impressive. “Watoto wangu,” was his deep, but tired, rumble. However simple the words, it is as laden with meaning as the twin’s greeting to himself.
But, before he can further address the very tension Yael sensed, she was appearing and slicing through it with her cheery, accented voice. “Hello, Yael. I was just showing my children the virtues of hard work, as we did in my native land, without magi—” but his rumbling explanation died on his lips as Yael transformed in to a dragon.
His brows rose, lips slightly apart with the last word he spoke as he watched the Seer shift. ’Become elephant, now?’ was Mbwene’s pointed, jibbed question through their bond. A long breath pushed out of his nostrils, deflating his chest for a moment as he blinked long and hard.
And then, immobilized but filled with movement, his body shifted into his elephantine form. Though it was not truly elephantine in size (though 18 hands is quite large), and the man would be happy for the day when he would be complete in his shift. Navy eyes, now framed with wrinkled grey skin, turn to his children, “I am happy for your company, but what brings you to follow me?” There is a sadness in his low rumble—for the twins had never outright sought his company.
Then, to ensure that the dragon did not feel left out—despite familial tensions— he tacked on, “Yael, how do you fare in your new position?” His great heat turned, then, large and sharp tusks making quick work of an ancient, old spruce that proudly stood near the middle of the cleared area.
I loathe your prayer. I wallow in sin. Let the nightmare begin.
How the dark prince had missed Kiada following behind was beyond the young stallion—perhaps her company had become so second nature to him that his mind simply dismissed it as an extension of himself. However, his ashen gilded skin shuddered and leapt to a roaring heat beneath her soft, pink lipped touch. Suddenly burning, molten blue eyes jerk to his sister’s— “Mbweha,” he quietly murmured to her, knowing full well that only she would understand his meaning.
But then Keusi’s hungry growl drew his attention away from his other half and the heat she brought him. The striped hyena’s bright blue sight had landed on the Serval kit, and her vicious jaws began to fill with anticipatory saliva. Young creatures were so tender—
’Not now,’ Kianzo thought (with no small amount of annoyance) to his bonded. Though blocked, Keusi was not entirely subdued. And her hungry, brazen stare followed the Serval—however, the tip of her golden tail wagged slightly, as if to invite the kit closer.
Thus far, the dark prince had simply nodded a greeting to the golden woman—his focus had been his father on this outing. However, he could no longer dismiss Yael the moment her body began to shift—his brows raised (familial resemblance leaping out between father and son), though his lips remained ceremoniously un-agape.
A true, lopsided grin crossed his muzzle—glad that someone had silenced his father’s absurd notions of not using magic for clearing the area. His black tail twitched around his hocks, “You were saying, bambo?” Perhaps too much sarcastic emphasis was placed on the native word. Though the dark prince did look innocently away, sending a particularly loud and violent burst of ash towards another ancient tree, suspiciously close to where his now-elephantine father labored.
Black-rimmed ears tilted back for a moment at the question—his eyes darting to Yael before looking back to the large tree his magic was engulfing. The unnamed feeling that had arisen in him while watching his father from the shadows (—empathy—) resurfacing at the sadness that laced Tembovu’s rumble.
But it felt weak. And, where he may have been inclined to divulge some parts of this weakness among family, he most certainly would not around another. So, instead, he simply said, “I thought you could use the help.” The flat and quick nature of his low voice belied the non-answer in them.
All the while, Keusi hopefully watched the Serval kit.
Her brother’s soft voice reached her ears and she turned to him with a gentle smile. “Mgeni.” She teased, giggling lightly toward him, before settling in beside her dearest sibling. She leaned into him at first, gentle, as a means of making sure he knew that she would be there by his side just as he would be by hers. Together forever, that was how this was going to go. So of course when he showed at the herd quest clearing, it made sense for her to follow. It felt homey, known, always silently following her brother, just as he often did for herself. It felt beautiful.
“Watoto wangu.” She heard her father rumble, spotting his exhausted face with lines of stress that surrounded and nearly swallowed his face. Her ears wavered before she continued with her task, noticing as a gilded Pegasus arrived with quite the thick accent. “Hello.” She murmured in Yael’s direction, watching as the Pegasus began to shift and roughly hearing the explanation their father was about to release of work without magic. Her ears wavered further, though a small smile crept on the corners of her lips as she looked at the dragon who decided to join them with their magical clearing exercise. Quietly, she turned to her brother with a smirk creasing the corners of her pink lips. “Kuonyesha mbali.” She whispered to him with another light laugh.
Khairi was not lost by the serval kit, however. Keusi began to stare at the creature, causing Khairi’s bloody gaze to shift toward the small animal. Rolling his eyes lightly, he hummed to himself, humored by the way he had forgotten the forever starving stomach of the hyena. As if to distract the canine, he spread his wings along Kiada’s back, crooning to her in his dark crackling call.
Kianzo must have noticed the sadness and wrinkles (now more pronounced as he shifted into an elephant) of their dear father. His voice was low and quick, reaching the point quickly. Kiada, feeling a bit more remorseful for the man, lifted her head to him with a brilliant smile as her tornado tore through another pile Khairi had collected. “We haven’t spent much time with you. We figured now was as good a time as any.” She announced before tilting her head to her father. “If you don’t mind, of course.” Her voice had gotten deeper, but it still carried that sweet innocence that she typically used to her advantage. Her gaze slipped to her brother, then, offering him a gentle smile as she swished her tail in the hopes of catching his hip with the charcoal tresses.
"Talk." Mgeni - Stranger Kuonyesha mbali - show off
She can feel the eyes on her as she works her not-so-subtle magic, transforming from a demure, relatively unthreatening figure to one that could cause quite a large amount of destruction – even at her smallish size. Tembovu’s introduction does not go unnoticed, however, and she gives a little wince, lowering her head in a sheepish grin, revealing a line of pearly white, sharp incisors. Her head swings towards the twins, then back to the Elephant - who is now in the midst of his own shift. “Ssssorry. Guessssss I ruined zat lessssson… “ and yet, she cannot help but chuckle, because the former King and his brood tower hands over her, built for strength and other things like that. Their version of working the land is probably far more productive and efficient than Yael’s version. “To be fair, I am not asssss sssssstrong as you and your kin. Een vich casssssse, eesssssss not mageec occasssssssionally appropriate? Accordeeng to each ssssssseetuation?” Work smarter, not harder. Surely even the ancient Dorobians used whatever tools were at their disposal to make the workload easier.
She is momentarily distracted by Zani as he goes through his own little kitten version of an emotional battle. Natural fear of a predator faces off with curiosity and the feline urge to pounce on things – namely, the hyena’s tail. He watches the appendage intently, trying to feign some sort of nonchalance, but we all know the kit isn’t as cool and disinterested as he appears to be – he’s simply too young. His body finally betrays him as he tries to slink forward, crouched low the ground, head and eyes hungry for every twitch the hyena’s tail offers.
Show-off or not, as Yael listens to the former King and his children, she is keenly aware that she has indeed interrupted something. Shuffling back, scaled tail swishes against the dirt and rock, until she can maneuver around the trio and head towards the edge of an area which still needs to be cleared. Tembovu asks her a question, and she replies quite cheerfully over one shoulder, as if to make up for whatever rumbles travel between the other three. “Oh, jusssssst fine, T’ank you. Ze Goddesssss eesssss…. Vell, you know. Eenteressssssteeng. And not kite full of ‘neksssssst sssstepssss.’ I am afraid I’m playeeng eet all by ear!” She manages not to be too distraught about divisive affections or literally having never done this kind of job before. No sense in letting anyone other than her bosses worry, you know? Even one who may have some insight into the workings of the divine.
Dragon-Yael then settles in to work, trying to make her silver-white body inconspicuous as powerful jaws wrap around bushes and pull, while taloned hands dig, and one ear is trained on the family that isn’t too far away.