"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.
I lack the poor judgement and naiveté that is characteristic of a child. Then again, to say anything of me other than the respectful words, the greeting that acknowledges my true place, is blasphemy in and of itself. For I am Prometheus, (All hail!) The Immortal Son; I am death personified, and yet the master of a balance between two worlds. My power is limitless and my worship to none, not even the Goddess that returned me to this mortal coil. This life of undeath is a toil, undisturbed in so many ways, yet hindered by odd mannerisms I cannot explain.
A hatred of birds as the very first.
You do not seem to share the disgust that I have for them. You bat at them when they land too close, you playfully jump up to reach those that you could never catch, and all the while I watch with hatred in my eyes. But I suppose the best way to understand a fe- no, I shan't call it fear, for I fear nothing- a hatred for something, is to delve further into it.
And thus I arrive here tonight and stand still as a corpse before the shrines of the gods. I've been touched by the moon and the sun, for they've given me life, illusion, and forgery, but I've no knowledge as to who will arrive to answer this plea. I part rotted and torn lips, let the stump that would have been my tail flicker, and speak out into the night. "Gods of the night, sun, and earth- grant me my wings."
[[Prometheus is seeking for a way to take to the skies so that he may better understand his hatred for those who do. I would [refer he not end up with the traditional feather or leather set of wings- maybe enchanted bones or something that, when he is in his potential form, are then feather? I'm just trying to keep it undead.]]
I'll never see any side of heaven
I'll walk for miles through a blazin' hell
He was dead.
The Sun God knew this, but still could not stand the stench of rotting flesh. Even as white hot flames begin to burst forth from one of the shrines, the acrid smell of decay filled the air surrounding the Veins. It was putrid, leaving a horrible taste in the God's mouth as he appeared before the rotting body of Prometheus - the only immortal in Helovia beside himself and his siblings. "What would you need wings for?" he spews out toward the zombie, golden eyes fiery with rage and hatred.
An ugly creation. He truly cannot believe he was responsible for such a thing. The dark magic within him was probably more heavy than his own. That bitch of a sister would likely relish in this disgusting thing that she held sustain. "Is the little corpse planning to become an angel?" the God spits out sarcastically, his charming voice almost purring with delight. Oh, what fun it was to tease these creatures who lived within his land.
08-14-2012, 11:09 PM (This post was last modified: 08-14-2012, 11:10 PM by Prometheus.)
I do not appreciate this god's branch of humor. I appreciate the cheap laughs of none, the mocking tone of no creature, regardless of their immortality. The god of the sun is no exception- the part he played in my new life is undeniable, and yet he mocks his own creation. He dares mock me, the immortal son that he brought to this earth with his kin. How proud they had seemed to be once, how foolish a thing they had done.
At my side I watch as your tail twitches madly at first and then slows to a rhythmic motion as you foolishly attempt to sooth the fiery god before us. With firm discipline I snap at your neck, tugging the fur and breaking your concentration. This is no time for your tricks or my hubris- even I know this. Still, his comment about the angel and the corpse leaves me itching to strike out at him. "Sun King, I wish to experience the flight of my tormentors. To know one's enemy is the first step on the path to defeating it," I utter in reply with a stone cold tone and a look of veiled distate. Still I will maintain a level of respect. I may have lost my mind along with my heartbeat, but I still have held onto my intelligence.
I'll never see any side of heaven
I'll walk for miles through a blazin' hell
"You refer to them as tormentors, yet you choose to live amongst them," the Sun God's voice says smoothly, tongue clicking against his mouth with a disapproving tisk. Still, the look upon his delicately dished face of gold looks thoughtful, as he considers the request of the dead child before him. Prometheus, what a strange fellow. Eyes of bright, burnished gold rest easily on the body of the patchy colored zombie, trying to invision the addition of wings.
The beauty of a feathered appendage would not do for this cretin. While the Sun God was plenty capable of bringing him glorious wings to carry him, the deity simply could not stomach the idea of something so pure attached to a corpse. Then, an idea struck him. It was brilliant and perfect, just the quest for this dead weight of a colt staring at him with rotted, empty eyes.
A smile, devious as it is handsome, creeps across the face of the Sun God. "In turn for giving you the ability to fly, you will supply for me the wings," he begins, eyes narrowing slightly. "Your search will take place in the Spectral Marsh. Have fun."
08-20-2012, 07:28 PM (This post was last modified: 08-20-2012, 07:29 PM by Prometheus.)
In silence the elder being stands before the undead, but I've no desire to break the moment of hallowed peace. I see disgust in his eyes and I brush it aside as I instead focus on his words, and how together they form my latest task. He asks for wings and I let a twisted, broken grin appear upon the features of my broken, tilted jaw and my shredded lips. Even you seem to perk up at the notion of returning to our old home and once more sleeping among the chilled forms of the dead. The water in the Dragon's Throat is too pure for my taste, and I can tell that you miss the blood tinted pools of the marsh just as much as I. You've not bathed since we migrated to our new home, not slept the same in the quiet nights there that are eerily safe and quiet.
You were raised among the midnight moans of the dead and the smell of rotting flesh- I am the creature that makes such a noise at night, that creates the stench that wrinkles the nostrils of so many passing by. We will be just fine there. With a respectful nod and an off look in my eyes, I find myself dipping to lower my short and broken horn to the God before me. My voice a soft death rattle, I answer once, briefly, before turning to leave the deity behind: "Gladly, Sun King."
And then, with silence in our wake, we begin the long journey home.