"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.
01-03-2014, 05:50 AM (This post was last modified: 01-05-2014, 02:19 PM by Belial.)
Demonchild waits on the shore of the sea, steam rising in tense coils from the surging of muscles, the furious beast. He imagines himself a creature of lore, a curse sent from hell to devour the wicked. Teeth, he has teeth, and the sharpest of claws; body rigid with spines, he's a demon, a god, blood red in the darkness and pitch black in the light. From two-tone slitted eyes he surveys the bleak ground, and the clench of his claw frees dark trees from the soil, tears a rend in the earth and destroys the lam. His adversary's absence leaves the monster enraged, and he raises his head to the sharp, dusky sky. The noise that emits shakes through heaven and hell, more a feeling than sound, less a bellow than roar. It rattles mountains and tears down snow, and the angels weep in fear.
And in collision of space between heaven and hell, a stallion screams beneath the sobbing sky.
Autumn rains down on the shore of the lake, and the chill icy water stings bright on his skin. He grins as it bleeds through the thick silver mane, shivering excitement and anger and lust. Kill, kill, kill! cries the crazed Seraph's son, his mind a dark labyrinth of black thorns and decay. What whirls around behind bicolored eyes, what horrors hide deep in that treacherous skull? The demonson's anger suspends far from his grasp; it's the beast that surrounds him, the rearing, red rage. He hates it, he hates them, and he hates her the most, her coldness and laughter, her meaningless looks. He wishes he could tear her jugular open, bite into her neck with a predator's fangs and wash in the blood that runs hot through his veins.
Broad hooves tear the ground, shifts mahogany weight, digging into soft earth rendered softer by rain. Silver forelock is kept from his eyes by the line of black horns; instead it lies softly tangled against the damp of his blaze, falls with the rain into the puddle of rage at his feet and threatens to flow away along with all reason, all ties to the world. Fuck fuck fuck fuck and in hatred he's blind. Machinery, manic, he is steel and blood. The demon is total, the angel's son gone. He knows he's to fight, he must fight, that there's no other way. He knows and he wants it, wants it deep in his soul; he needs it, he craves it, and the foe matters not. They're all only her, her eyes and her laugh and her breakable bones.
Will this win her approval?
Will his mother, at last, look at him, and not through?
Will you love me now, mommy?
Does she know how to love?
[ @[Torleik]
0/3 | 0/2 magic. Setting: Near the shore of the lake, in a broad patch of tundra. It's afternoon, raining hard, and has been for a while. Belial's monster isn't an illusion (yet), it's all in his head for now. You can open. Good luck!
Edited the OOC bit only, because I'm a boob. ]
Belial the Demonchild Even the devil was once an angel
01-10-2014, 08:19 PM (This post was last modified: 01-10-2014, 08:20 PM by Torleik.)
TORLEIK
Long is the winter of a man's soul
Torleik was unhappy about this entire situation. He and Zar'roc had attended the herd meeting and indicated their intent. Who were these interlopers that had suddenly crawled out from the rotten spaces in the woodworks and felt compelled to vie for Deimos' vacant General position? In the end he supposed it didn't matter. If they didn't like the newly appointed general then they would likely challenge anyhow. Might as well get it over with now. He was pitted against some multi-spiked thing named Belial.
A thing that seemed to be screeching at the moment, as he approached. Was that meant to frighten him? Belial was flesh and bone, regardless of his mental state or magical abilities. Unless he could become a barrow-wight or transform into a draugr - both requiring death - Torleik would not be shaken by a mere shriek.
Was he attempting to emulate Deimos' oddity and obsession with evil and death? Or was it the other way around? He hadn't any idea who else was fighting whom - he had cared to check - but surely they couldn't be fighting anyone as...interesting...as he. Frankly he was most concerned with what sort of magic this stallion had. That was most important. Did he have a companion? That was also useful to know.
The rain was falling thick from the sky and the ground was soggy from the continual outpouring of the clouds; Torleik didn't mind the rain, but Irelyn was none too thrilled. She had grown much in the past season but was still not mature. Flight was something she had recently begun to learn, and she awkwardly hurtled herself towards a low-hanging tree branch, her flight path jerky and ungainly. She made it and was much happier being sheltered by the tree above her - even if that tree was pathetic and could barely be called a real tree. Torleik supposed it only survived since the lake provided enough water in this tundra-riddled land. There were other pitiful arboreal upshoots, none he would classify as a real tree.
The stallion nearby had multiple horns on his head and the Viking assumed this was Belial. Where were you when Deimos called for the herd? he grunted in his head, annoyed.
"It seems you and I are slated to battle for this round of a tournament that should not be," Torleik said simply, his voice as icy as the magically frozen ground beneath his feet. Helovia was a strange and wonderful place and the Giving Tree had gifted him with a sort of passive magic that made the ground beneath his feet freeze over briefly as he moved on. When he stood in place, the ground stayed frozen. Though this magic was useful for combat, he would try to spin it to his advantage.
Ice was slippery, no?
But he was getting ahead of himself. This Belial did not seem interested in starting their battle...and Torleik wondered at the efficacy of sparring with no one to observe the victors and ensure fairness and honesty. "This is my only warning I am commencing our fight," he called out, sizing up his opponent and thinking back on his last battle by this lake. He had lost. He would not do so again.
Belial was not a small creature by any means. A hand taller than Torleik, he was nonetheless slightly more slender. Still. There appeared to be no real size advantage Torleik could see. Their similar size meant they would likely move around the same speed...but that was all he could guess. How strong was this stallion? Torleik was a beast, but was Belial? It remained to be seen.
Those four horns would be a problem. Torleik knew he needed to avoid them as much as he could, given how many opportunities Belial had to pierce his skin. 'Ireyln, stay put. I mean it.' His bonded made an avian growl in response, though she remained at her post. The elder stallion, black as the demon Belial seemed to think himself to be, began his opening attack. Starting at a trot, Torleik made his approach on the quadri-horned male’s left side. If he took to the air, his underbelly could be utterly eviscerated by a quick twitch of Belial’s head, so Torleik kept to the ground. As he drew near, the Viking aimed for his opponent’s left haunch, dropping his head and making to skewer Belial’s flesh on his dual-horned crown like one would skewer a piece of meat with a knife. Torleik made sure his approach was purely perpendicular to Belial’s body, ensuring his rabicano belly and haunches were as far away from the Demonchild’s horns as he could comfortably keep them.
--------------------
@[Belial]
[[WC: 783| 1/3 | No active magic]]
[[OOC: I am sorry this took a while to get up. I'm going to be pretty busy these next few days, but I promise I will stay within the one week deadline. Good luck to you too! This should be interesting with my grumpy old man against your demonic horned monster boy :D]]