"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.
tear me open pour me out,
inside there's things that scream and shout
Orangemoon hung heavily in the air, supplying the beaches to the east of the fiery pit with a cool mist. We have wandered away from what we think is home once more, but not too far, here someone can find you if need be.. though we're positive that you're just as useless to them as a prisoner. No, maybe even more useless; you don't even have information that they may want. But they don't know that. They only know that this thick chunk of meat was kept in the freezer for way to long, and now his brain is freezer-burnt. We each cackle softly, your red ears turning back as you listen in on our silent conversation.
"What's so funny?" Your deep voice sends uncomfortable vibrations through your skull, causing us to grab at the slimy walls of the inside of your wasting away cranium. You're of no use to anyone, have you not figured that out yet? another cackle from a few of us causes a deep sigh to roll from our host's body. "Leave me alone." Your heart sinks, allowing us to feed off of the negative energy that you've once more fallen directly into. We can see from your glazed-red windows that the ocean is fairly still; no wind crashes down the rocky portion of the beach that we stand on. The waves calmly lap the rounded rocks, slowly sliding just ever so closer as the tide pushes in.
You have been standing in this irritating mist for some time now and condensation has gathered on your eyelashes and the fuzzy fur that cloaks your body like a heavy blanket. Windshield wipers would be particularly nice right now; the ocean is quite beautiful. Pretty enough to go for a swim, big boy? the words are pleasant and coaxing. Your large nostrils draw in a shaky breath, and we are unsure if it is caused by nerves or perhaps a slight chill. We clench our small hands together, our claws slicing the fleshy tops of each knuckle as our long fingers tighten harder and harder together; the anticipation of your next stupid move is satisfying.
"No." you finally answer, the vibration more violent this time; your throat is dry and makes the attempted growl sound more like a whine. One of us finds this failed show of authority funnier than it really was; he drops to the ground, rolling around while laughing hysterically. The others of us just chuckle, focused on our obviously more entertained brother as he catches his breath between hard laughs. We punt him in the side, making him straighten up and quiet down.
Our windows shift from watching the rolling white-caps of the distant waves to the rocky shore to our left; what exactly you are looking at we are not quite positive, but the moon's radiant light casts shadows ten feet tall and caused the wet rocks to glisten like diamonds.
It was always night—or at least so it felt. He's Rudolph the White-Faced Unicorn, a blazing stripe down his face to guide every hungry tooth to his throat, and every eye to his ghastly frame.That didn't really bother him, though; Mauja had always been white. Moonlight had always turned him into a blazing beacon in the night, except when the snow glowed the same way. But, before this, he could hide in shadows. Even the starkest of white becomes lifeless gray when no light strikes it. It's harder to mute the glow of something on your face, to scrub off the celestial mark left upon him, cracking his mind and heart in two; he couldn't hide anymore. And in the darkness, he couldn't see as far as he used to, because that veil of hazy light was always there. Blessed or cursed? He breathed out, and shook his head, mane rattling against his thick neck. Mauja, the walking torch. At least wolves avoided his alien, glowing face.
He would find nothing here, no salvation down south by the fiery pits of hell and the fortress called The Throat. Everything he cared for lived and thrived in the snows, but he hadn't dared go that way.. hadn't dared to set foot upon the isthmus and trek into the harsh wilderness, to search for the missing pieces of his heart and puzzle his useless future together. Instead, he paced Helovia's shores like a restless ghost, the spirit of someone left behind even though he still had a body—if there could even be such a thing. Somewhere along the road he'd fallen off the path, and he wasn't sure what to do about it anymore. It was like walking headfirst deeper into a blizzard, until he really had no clue anymore, and tonight in particular he felt like someone had emptied his skull and filled it up with clouds and jelly.
At least Irma could still see in the darkness. By the seat of the rolling waves a dark shape stood, outlined in silver—like all black creatures were—and awash with moonlight. There was something familiar about him, in the slope of his haunches and the set of his shoulders. A thin horn pierced the sky. Someone from a past which felt so distant it could've belonged to someone else, maybe?
Mauja kept walking, placing one hoof in front of the other. Some part of him was wary, anxious even, maybe afraid of who it would be, but the major part of him just didn't care. Irma, graceful and pale, swept in lower, her eyes scanning the young stallion as she passed. Washed-out red; ears, horn, face. There had been violence here, of the good kind, playful and superior from Mauja's side—but he was bigger now, wasn't he? It had, after all, been a long time ago he'd last seen Voodoo. His mind kept spinning, coughing up the facts and memories as he plodded closer, until eventually he stopped nearby, ablaze in the glory of the moon. "You've grown," he simply said, blunt, and his eyes roamed the red-blazed face.
tear me open pour me out,
inside there's things that scream and shout
The salty air shifts easily, allowing the spray of tiny droplets of water to trickle across the dark chipped hooves of yours. We slump lazily in our imaginary chairs, our tails dripping over the backs to hang just above the slimy floors of your skull. Filmy red eyes shift from the rocky shore to the sky, where a bird hangs low in the air. Your ears shift forward and eyes dodge back from the bird to what looks like and illuminated monster. The hair across your spine raises as your helpless instinct screams over even our volume to run; instead, you stand, frozen to the rock floor as the monster moves toward us.
The light ricochets off of a blue dagger that parts the fuzzy white forelock of your old acquaintance; "You've grown." the monster rumbles. "Mauja." the name leaps from your dry throat with a heightened octave at the end, as if you were questioning the white stallion's reality. We sit up in our chairs, fingers folding together over calm fists as our red windows take in the relieving sight of the male. "Why-" your red pools draw back up to attempt to meet the frosty gaze of your past leader. "What brings you here?"
We can feel your heart sink in your chest; so many thoughts and reasons of the snow beast's sudden appearance rattle your brain: He's found me, he's going to banish me from the Basin completely, what if I am to never see the frozen valley again? All four limbs feel somewhat sluggish now and weak. Just get this over with, that way I don't have to face any one else your brain provokes you to back up, but your legs are too shaky to even brace yourself in case of a sudden attack.
Tagged: @[Mauja]
Ooc: Sorry it took so long and ended up being super short. My muse is dead
Text here "Chat here." Voices here
[ Don't worry! Mine wasn't all that spectacular either. <3 ]
He wasn't sure what kind of greeting he was expecting. Recognition? A smile? Anger? Mauja would've deserved wrath; he'd abandoned them, after all, but.. if anything, Voodoo seemed startled, as if not quite sure what he was seeing. Ghosts, maybe. Painted glow-silver and with the white blaze down his face maybe he seemed a bit ethereal, otherworldly, changed somehow. Oh, he could imagine it, alright. Tales of the icy unicorn king, who, with his horn and bright face parted the veils of night and stepped through time and space, appearing to freeze your heart over before..abducting you, or something. Mauja had a hard time seeing himself as the good guy of a fairytale, and it wasn't only because he knew what he'd done, and been through, but because.. there was, if he was going to be honest, something sinister about white creatures. Especially when they had pale blue eyes and marble hearts, statues carved from glacier ice and with hearts to match—it just made for good stories of irresistible beauty, but so cold and cruel. His siren song wasn't one of glory and redemption, it was of razor crystals and a long, frigid sleep.
So maybe Voodoo being startled wasn't all that weird, but the rest of the tale was unlikely to be something sinister, at least not with the way Mauja had nearly spaced out for a moment. "Mauja." Yet it seemed more like a question, and his eyes grew sharper as his mind snapped out of its brief reverie. "Why," he began to say, then changed his mind, night-brown eyes coming up (was he hesitating?) before continuing: "What brings you here?" By now, the pale stallion's 'brows had drawn together slightly. It wasn't a stark display of emotion, more like the wrinkling of fine, dark lines while his heart breathed quiet, heavy worry. He'd beat Voodoo up a bit once, but not because he'd been angry, or something—was there a reason for this.. anxiety? Or whatever else it was. Mauja wasn't sure he could accurately diagnose any emotion anymore. "My four feet," he replied, voice too grave for such a light statement, but something in his eyes lit up.
Irma wheeled across the starry sky before disappearing into the blackness again.
"And you? What brings you out here?" It smelled a lot of home, the home Voodoo had never known, but the scent brought bitterness and grief to Mauja's mind—things he tried to shove aside, to banish from his life. They were weakness, a blight upon his soul, and the reason he had not risen above. They weighed him down, but how do you break out of a rut you're so deep in? He exhaled, slowly, breath-smoke rising in front of his face as his eyes remained on Voodoo. Maybe he'd reply that his feet brought him there, too, but if something was on the younger stallion's mind.. maybe he'd let it out. Maybe, just maybe.
But it wouldn't surprise Mauja if he'd lost his rights to that trust—if he'd ever had it to begin with.
No, we're not ready for hell, hell no, for hell, hell no
tear me open pour me out,
inside there's things that scream and shout
The silver rim of light gleamed off of the white brute that stands before your much smaller, lighter body, making you feel uneasy and very little. The red hue of your hollow eyes shifts around uneasily as you try to place your attention on everything but the blue pools of your former leader. A scolding of some kind is expected, your chest tight and nervous as you attempt to prepare yourself for the shout or mocking. Instead, "My four feet," the gruff voice seeming just as shallow as usual. We clench down with all of the power we have, making you draw your bloody eyes up to meet with the blue glaze of Mauja's bright eyes. A wave of relief washes through your entire body, dragging us away with the imaginary salt waters.
A grin tugs the corners of your painted lips, a deep breath expelling from full lungs once the snow beast spoke again, questioning your reason of being in this dry bowl. Your eyes immediately dart from Mauja's once more, falling to the rocky shore beneath uneasy hooves. He's not stupid, he knows you could not handle anything. Just tell him, you're too fucking crazy to be around other beings. You would have never amounted to anything for the herd anyhow, you're pathetic! We continued on, slurring our words together as we spat salt-water from our large mouths, mocking our host.
Your ears laid back against the tangle of black hair, screaming profanities at us in your head that we simply ignore, like we usually do. "I couldn't be there anymore Mauja, I'm sorry. Is that why you've found me? Are you here to scold me?" Your crowned skull drops reluctantly, the very same spiraled bone that had almost accidently pierced your own Lead's hide now hanging low to the earth. Shame spills from every orifice of your body, the emotions crawling through your body at the pace of a snail, giving us nothing to feed off of.
The rocks below your left front hoof give away a little under your weight as the water steals sand from the bar below the pair of you, washing it all back out into the ocean. Black face lifts to shoulder-height, rummy eyes peering up at the cool gaze of the draft.
Tagged: @[Mauja]
Text here "Chat here." Voices here
Not everything was lost, at least, or so far out of reach he could never hope to aspire to it. Whatever tethers had held them together had come partially undone, like two lost souls adrift in the ocean, and he was unsure if he dared to swim closer. Who knew what secrets hid beneath the surface? Which shadows that were simply shadows, and which that were monsters? Oh, but he wanted to come closer, to rest side by side for a moment, and maybe he would be allowed to—his first words drew forth the beginnings of a grin, red and blue meeting calmly for a moment, a mere heartbeat. Then Mauja's voice drove the maroon gaze away again, face closing instead of blooming. Mauja exhaled, slowly, thoughtfully, listening to the silence. So there was something there, a thin veil between them, an obstacle. Something Mauja needed to pull down if he wanted to get through, but how? What was it? Was it something he had done? Or simple uncertainty? He knew that he wasn't always easy to be around, for many reasons. He usually gave so little away, it could unnerve anyone. Even now, with worry and caution within his blood his face remained smooth and calm, just that bright cast of kind curiosity in his eyes.
"I couldn't be there anymore Mauja, I'm sorry. Is that why you've found me? Are you here to scold me?" "Oh, Voodoo," the words slipped from his mouth in a rather surprised voice, sneaking through his filters and coming out through the cracks. His face lost some of its wariness, grew softer, a faint, sad little smile curling his dark lips. Had he ever come across the kind to punish others? A harsh ruler? If he had.. then he'd never meant to; he'd always tried to be there, for them, to come with understanding instead of discipline. And maybe, maybe Voodoo sensed that? Maybe it was why he raised his head slightly, looking up, as if looking for that gentle ghost which resided in his bones? Mauja peered down at him through his white forelock; he certainly hoped that was the case.. and that it wasn't just readiness for a blow. He suddenly felt ten years older. "I wasn't even looking for you, I.. I sort of left, too." He averted his eyes to the sea for a moment. It was fairly calm on that night, just lapping at their hooves. "I hadn't planned on it, but it turned out that way, and now I don't know if I can go back." A slight shrug of his snowy shoulders, and he turned his eyes back, heart biting back the uncertainty; if Voodoo had left, too, then surely he couldn't judge Mauja? It wasn't like he'd run away, more like.. like he'd come to a point in life where he found he couldn't go back, and fit back in his old life. Too much had changed, too many revelations and too many things accepted—and that blasted word ringing in his skull. Honesty. He just wasn't sure he could do it, in the bigger picture—live a life without deception? It wasn't that he liked to deceive others, it just.. had been necessary. Was it still necessary?
He forced the thoughts aside, sought for Voodoo's red eyes with his own. There were some pieces of honesty he could give tonight, though, and give freely; sincerely. And he hoped they would be of use for the black stallion. "You have nothing to fear from me."
A million miles from home, I'm frozen to the bones, I am... a soldier on my own, I don't know the way.