"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.
One could say that the entrance of most all daunting forests were defined by a clearly sketched black-green wall that held, like a burly membrane, all of the fallen trees and monstrous dwellers together. But this one, it was captivating. The trees of the Threshold slowly eased tighter and tighter together as the gypsy girl moved more south. The words Solace and Ricochet had to offer spun around in her head like the webs that held together an archway of leaning, rife fire-trees. She lowered her head and pushed herself through the dense wood. Stepping with all the swiftness of a gaited Saddlebred, Feuille navigated the forest as if she were an old squirrel. It seemed odd, at least to a passerby, that she could so quickly, yet so quietly, and gracefully move nimble limbs through the seemingly impassable layers of deepening forest. The only sound she might have uttered would be the soft clink of earrings together. She mimicked a single red leaf.
Mostly she was at luck with the morning dew that dampened the rotting layers of sifting mold carpeting her footfalls. Feuille's tricky pace would define experience and love of woods that only lacked smoke. Autumn was her soul's temperature, and the cool breezes blew her in whichever direction, while she followed without a thought of peculiarity aimed at her decisions.
who's to say where the wind will take you
who's to know what it is will break you
rambling fae rambling fae"to guide these lives" The deep forest was a captivating, a beautiful sight. One that would lure any wandering horse closer to the wooded area, surrounded by massive trees. The dark place greatly appealed to the ghostly unicorn stallion who silently floated within the trees. The deep forest was a place of serenity, a haven for an outcast like him. Angelic, yet so wicked at the same time, Faelon adored the evergreens blocking the sunlight, and casting an ethereal shadow over the place. His golden mane caressed his ivory face, soft and pale. A small smile adorned his gracious lips as he continued his morning stroll through the woods.
Moss lined the floor, softening each of the stallion's footfalls as he breezed through. Seeking company, or at least a small conversation, the man humbly stayed quiet hearing the soft thud of another horse wandering in the early morning. An autumn colored fae was wandering on the same path as he, briskly moving through the dew floor. Finding himself to be in front of the lady, he quietly emerged from the trees to make himself seen. A kind grin played upon his lips as soft tones called out to the lady. "Good day, M'lady", properly introducing himself, he bowed his horned head in respect.
"I am Faelon", not being the most social, the ivory stallion found it hard to uphold conversations with others.
Simply another beautiful filly, her hopes high and her dreams big, there is only a few things that set her apart from the others. Her size, of course. Also, her mature personality, and sweet and caring tone. Always looking out for others and being a truly kind soul.
The girls wlks through the Deep Forest, the thought that she spends a little too much time here, settling at the back of her thoughts. She doesn't mind the eerie, odd feeling here, really, she loves it. Although sometimes a twig snapping or a slight sound in the distance may make her jump, she still loves the thrill and challenge in being here. With a skilled kind, she works her way through the thick underbrush, almost impossible to navigate. But she does it with talented long pillars and a mind made to work out large problems. Above her, large pines stretch to try touch the heavens, a beautiful sight. On the ground lays a blanket of pine needles; one of natures best insalatours. A smile crosses her kissers, for shehas spotted two brings. A ivory brute wig a crown, and a much darker dove that is hornless. A small hate for in-horned beings thrives inside her soul, but she must remember she is one of them, and she wouldn't want to hate herself.... Or would she?
Kind orbs set on the duo, she approaches slowly. When she is about ten feet from them, she snorts, which is followed by a silly giggle.
It occurred to her that the autumnal dance shook itself out, and on spindly, travel-worn hooves she planted herself in the forest. Tail lifts and she becomes tall, ears erect, orange eyes vibrantly wamble focusing on the macro-detail of dew beading an orange leaf. Feuille always took the time to digest the smaller perspectives of life, feeling serenity bleed through her eyes into the softness of her thoughts, cajoling. Somewhere musings cast their essence across her own doe-esque figure. She felt like a replication, her own colors reflecting in pools of dew. She had the ability to glow, radiate like an opening flower. The minutes spun by, she could have stayed here forever, listening like this to the sounds of the forest, enchanted by the grip of nuance. But like a fly in a web she was trapped by intrigue. She has the ability to get caught up leaf-like trifles.
Forever wasn't long enough, especially when she heeded the dank sound of forest footfalls nearing. He was quiet, but somehow she'd adapted a capacity for hearing, for feeling movements through the dense wood. As if some gilded nymph of nature gifted her, she felt him in all the quietness. With eyes suddenly weary, she lifted her gaze.
"Good day, M'lady,"
Feuille turned herself to face the stallion, shoulders allowing legs to cross over while she kept her haunches still to show all the grace involved in caution. She was cautious of her movements, not herself. She found it easy to relax in the presence of strangers and let her voice roll through daily melodies. It had been a while since she'd seen a soul. "Hello there," she said, voice softly floating over a damp wilderness. The calm of the moment let her senses relax, her tail drooped a bit while ears stay erect, but soft enough to waver in wind. She had the final days of youth making ends meet and she didn't need spunky dexterity for a conversation to jive. She had to admit, she felt a little intoxicated.
"Faelon is a noble name," the Jaune child returned as the white stallion spilled his name. "I am Feuille Jaune." She was getting to see him now, eyes focusing on the radiance of sunrise tresses and the purity of stark white. He stuck out among the forest, blessed with a pietistic figure, the colors of nobility. He reminded her briefly of fables and figures that led glorious royals through their enervated means of conquest.
Nearly as soon as the words dropped from her mouth, Feuille felt yet another presence in the forest. Her eyes drifted beyond Faelon to an emerging filly painted by a flirtatious brush. She reflected Feu's younger years, times before travel wore down her edges like the years of age on leather. She knew this filly, as instantly as she recognized youth, was going to be jaded.
"Greetings to you Abishia," the wanderer said with a white smile. "You may call me Feuille."
[I apologize for the tremendous wait!]
who's to say where the wind will take you
who's to know what it is will break you