"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.
05-28-2014, 10:19 PM (This post was last modified: 05-28-2014, 11:08 PM by Kaj.)
Kaj</style>
now we're in the ring and we're coming for BLOOD
For the first time in all his seasons of living on the peninsula, the golden royal gazed upon the borders of the land he ruled with reluctance, with conflict smoothed upon his features like caking clay. His time with Evangeline had been soothing, a reminder of the simpler things, and in her eyes he had seen understanding and compassion. The gentle Philosopher had once been a Lead herself, after all. It was not until she convinced him with soft words and concerned eyes to remain with her in the lands outside their borders when he sought her out- to shake off the heavy weight he always shouldered, both for the herd and for the Queen that indulged in what he had just done far more- that he had yet to leave the Edge since his crowning. It was a mildly depressing thought. But the wise maiden had patched his worn hide and let him rest his mind, his fears, upon her shoulders. It had been painful, to give that weight to another, and yet the relief of the action had made his bones shake and skin tremble beneath her knowing orbs. Viewing the borders from an outsider's eyes was hard, an experience he hadn't felt since taking on the plentiful responsibilities of rebuilding and guiding the herd he'd die in an instant for.
Glass shone in splintered, pathetic fragments beneath the light, a jagged maw leading into the fogged darkness of the forest. A monster's mouth, prepared to devour and consume. Now, the golden warrior could see why Kahlua so desired to destroy what she'd worked endlessly on. A soft sigh escaped pale golden muzzle, shining white-blonde in the sunlight that crept above the trees almost tentatively. Strong shoulders shifted forward, umber walkers stretching to draw him forth, a walk of shame only he could understand, an emotion so strong yet invisible to those that looked to him infinitely for wisdom and protection. Kaj had never felt shackled by his flock, and yet he was seeing with each passing day that Kahlua was more inclined to deal with keeping spirits joyous than to take on matters of importance. And Kaj, raised from birth to believe that females were superior and should be protected and revered, had been unable to help protecting this suddenly strange, foreign doe that was everything he'd never seen.
Yet as he slides, silent and contemplative, into the lands he loved, he is soon to be held captive once more by his fierce affection for his ruling teammate. His name tugs at his aurels, loud and somewhat urgent, familiar in every sweet dip and sigh of a one-syllable name that tugs his stomach and forces his heart into his throat. He had not been gone more than half a day, had something gone wrong? And then it comes again, and he has never heard his name uttered in such a way before in his life, hears the scream as it shatters every inch of silent air that surrounds him. It rips into him like dull knives stabbing into his skin, drags a howl from a chordless throat to echo in its silence through his ears, the only sound he can hear in the distressing absence of her terrified wail is the pounding of his blood in his ears, war drums that spike his blood with spice and fire and the desire to kill whoever dared to force such a horrific scream for help from the painted maiden.
An archangel arises from the flames of his rage, a phoenix that will burn the pathetic imitator that will meet him at the end of the world, that will fall beneath wings that do not need fire to burn, beneath the weight of his vengeance and destruction. From his throat rises a bellow, no longer soundless in muted horror, a thunderous trumpeting of primal assurance; he is ready, and he will come for the fated hellion. It is a promise of his arrival; a declaration of war, of intimate, personal wrath that will shred and burn and take and devour whomever lay at the end of the path he now hunted.
Feathers spread as he rises, ripping into the skies, heaving heavily massed frame from the gravity of earth with sheer force of will and power of musculature. Beats the air into submission, sweat beading and foaming on pale flanks, drifting so low that scraggly tree tops snap upon his forelegs and draw blood to run in rivers down his skin. It is nothing compared to the blood he will shed when his prey has been cornered.
Icy shards of blue are hawklike, shredding the horizon as he scans for the source of the scream, for the already-dead foe that invoked such a response. He will taste their blood, he will send their soul to the pits of darkness that no wraith would ever venture into, and he would smile while he did it. Today, crimson rain would stain the golden fibers of his hide, the only armor he'd ever need even with the weight of the screaming child's craft upon his neck, and he would bask in the flow of it. It was a beautiful day, one he might have been reluctant to tarnish, but the demon had arisen and the storm had clutched his wild anger and molded it into something useful, something powerful, a driving force that would not be stopped.
Below, everything clears, and fury burns his gaze until everything is blurred red and black. BETRAYAL. Deep beneath the demon something primal roars and thrashes in weakened chains, bares its teeth and shudders beneath the weight of emotions so strong they bow its shoulders. BETRAYAL! It bellows so loud that Kaj's head hurts, and suddenly his languages are mixing and he's back in a place too cold and desolate for any good soul to survive in. The perfect soldier. The protector. In a family where closeness, loyalty and sacrifice were the ruling morals. The Storm Bringer had fought to understand these Helovians, to integrate himself, to bring them to his side and show them the power of the bonds he'd never cherished enough in his homeland.
They had wronged him in return.
The bitch would pay her weight in blood, would fall beneath the dagger she had dared to plunge into the back of her Queen, and her last image of life before the torment of her soul in the hell in which he would cast her to would be his bloodied smile and electric eyes.
The morning had gone by peacefully in the garden - Alysanne singing softly to Hemlock as she moved amongst the fresh garden, providing nutrients for the little herbs that needed as much help as they could get after being uprooted from their original sites. And peaceful was just where she wanted the day to stay. It was where she wanted every day to stay… but it was not where the day would end up. Throughout the forest echoed a sound she had hoped she would never hear: the sound of one of her friends, her family, in distress. Kahlua’s voice may not have been calling out her name, but it did not matter. Alysanne’s instincts would always be to follow such a note. She needed to make sure that her friend was okay, her heart already hammering in her chest. Hemlock would be safe here, in the garden, and she needed at least one part of her heart to be safe as she covered the short distance between where she was and where her friend’s voice had been directed from.
Quick hooves fumbled to a stop as she took in what waited for her there - the sight of Aurelia and Kahlua fighting. Or, Aurelia attacking and Kahlua trying to reason with her - to get it to stop. What possible reason could they have for this? Another step is taken, fully intending on intervening - throwing herself between any attack - when the movement of gold in the sky overhead challenged for her attention.
As much as she wanted to move forward and end whatever was happening, whatever had possessed Aurelia to do this (for she was certain Kahlua would not have instigated this fight) - that flash of gold was rapidly becoming a more pressing issue. Their great, golden king was in the sky and barrelling down towards the pair that were just starting their fight. Although she knew that he was swooping in to protect Kahlua, those great wings of hers unfurled and she was in the air - beating as furiously as she could to gain enough altitude to intercept him before he could run into the ground and hurt himself or someone else.
Gone was the soft, golden king with the kindly face. Gone were those gentle eyes that watched her as she tried to learn how to fight, guiding her movements. Instead was anger, an anger that burned so hot she wanted to flee before it, to never see such an expression again. And yet, an anger that made her want to get between it and anything she cared for. They needed to protect Kahlua, but not so recklessly. He knew better than that. He showed her better ways than that. “KAJ NO!” She screamed above the wind, green eyes rimmed in fear but remembering that he had taught her well. Taught her not to let the fear cause uncertainty. She feared more for him, for Kahlua, and even for Aurelia than she did for any bodily harm she might come to in getting him to stop.
Positioning herself between him and the fight she faced him head on - hovering for a moment to pause and call out again. “Please! You’ll only make things worse!!” She hated this, hated how stopping him from helping Kahlua was the right thing to do. And if Kahlua was hurt as a result, she would never forgive herself.
The muscles in her wings burned in anger - the lack of use in the past months catching up to her - but she pressed forward with the intention of closing the gap between them, of moving towards him as he moved towards the ground. If he built up enough momentum she wasn’t sure if she would be able to stop him completely, but maybe a flat out collision would deter him for a moment longer while she tried to think of something else.
It had become... interesting, poking around the forest that had been her home as a child, seeing the changes wrought upon it by the darkness and the horses that had lived there during her brief stint beyond Helovia. It was home, but different. Was it because the draconic scents of her family had faded so, to become achingly familiar whiffs caught in unexpected breezes, almost intangible? Or because so many around her were unknown?
These were the contemplations moving through the silver child's mind when her ears caught the sound of a scream. Startled, she looked up, ears craning around to locate the source even as the sound faded. Quick, staccato steps carried her forward, leathery wings fanning in anxiety. That voice had been familiar, if not known. And the name it had been calling? Definitely known. One that put a hurry in the youngster's steps. A scream of pain and terror, crying out for Kaj? Bad news, bad news indeed.
Mist and trees cleared enough for her to glimpse the sight of two mares clashing in battle, an observation brief enough to only note that Kahlua was one of them, before she recognized the disturbance of air by massive wings. Familiar, yet different. Reflexively she flinched, mantling her wings and stepping sideways even as her golden eyes swept upward. There was Kaj, a golden meteor of utter fury. And with that sight came a sinking feeling in the silver's gut. Someone would die, unless he was stopped.
Without thinking she flung herself skyward, belatedly realizing that she was echoing the upward plunge of a pegasus mare in the near distance. A bellow of rage, words incomprehensible, rushed from the stallion who was diving fast, was met by a protesting shout from the unknown mare. Met again by a dragon's roar, toned higher and more desperate than any call that the silver had ever made before. Certainly unlike any roar from a dragon's breast that the StormBringer or his followers had known. It was a desperate attempt to spark some light of recognition in those eyes that had gone so dark.
Only when she was trailing the pegasus mare, light glinting from her scales, that Semira wondered just how much difference a half grown yearling, despite her dragon heritage, could make. He could knock her out of the sky so easily. But some part of her hoped that he'd recognize her parents within her, recognize the ties he held to the Dragonheart and her Dragon's Son, and falter before their silver daughter, despite his rage. Oh please don't let this be a terrible mistake for everyone...
"Uncle Kaj, please! You might hurt her on accident!" Another plea, though she only dimly knew which her that was being referred to. That had been Kahlua screaming, begging for assistance from this embodiment of the storms. Gods help them all.
Just days after the tournament, in which he had come through victorious, the Dauntless had traveled to the Threshold on his patrol with Ktulu to bring back some warrior, but the creamed dun had denied him. Archibald paid no mind to it, felt no hurt or offense, but merely tagged the dun as an idiot who was probably a weakling as well. Now, however, the kingly beast was finishing up another patrol. The leaders had yet to announce their decision as Captain, though Archibald would not stand for any less than himself, and if possible, Ktulu to stand at his side. She was a strong mare with many ideas, the only thing she lacked was experience. Archibald's was skilled and experienced, his knowledge and past would merge well with her. He even had a more level-headedness about him that Ktulu did not, and Archibald would even her out. Together, they could build an army. Not only did the Dauntless see her as a powerful ally, he looked to her as one of his closest friends. She and Lakota, it seemed, would be in his life forever. Both mares had traveled into the lands at his heels, though the mammoth knew he was not their reason for being here, it was surely an idea he kept in his mind.
He knew, within a fortnight, he would need to travel to Circe. His sons were nearly a year old and strong, venturing out on their own each day. It would be a lie to say that Archibald did not worry for them, but he was also confident in their ability to keep themselves safe. Thus far, no harm had come to them, and the Dauntless did not predict any soon. Reginald was a cunning boy, a genius that would be very successful in his lifetime. Abraham was strong and able, and with his dragon companion he knew his curious son would be safe. The little white reptile had even tried to claw at Loretta for getting to close to him, and the memory caused a chuckle to spill from the back of the warlord's throat. Yes, his sons were safe. He needed his wife, however, to join at his side. He missed her, truly, his heart pined for her. He needed the warmth of her at his side while they slept, he needed her muzzle pressed into the muscle of his neck.
A wild, sharp call snapped Archibald out of his thoughts. Loretta, bounding up to his side momentarily, shot forward towards the sound. Above him, Archibald saw a flash of tan flying. The king was in a panic, as the Dauntless could tell by the tree branches and leaves that crashed to the floor before him. Confused, Archibald set off at a steady gallop, dodging trees and boulders to follow after the flying king. In minutes, Archibald burst into a clearing, the same clearing he had battle in just a few days past, and he skidded to a stop. Loretta, a few horse-lengths in front of him, was set in a war-stance and snarling. Golden eyes flicked up to see Kahlua, the daft but kind queen, being attacked by an on-fire, raging mare.
The warlord knew he needed to stop Kaj, or else he was going to hurt himself, this attacking mare, and Kahlua. "KAJ! ENOUGH!" Archibald bellowed, his voice booming thunder across the land. Another painted mare darted in the sky, attempting to thwart the king just as he was. Archibald had never met the king before, but Archibald would not stand for more pain than what was needed. After all, Kahlua had called for peace, and she seemed to be attempting to reason with her attacker. With his bitch snarling, Archibald cantered more towards the flying golden stallion to position himself more underneath him, so when he hit the ground, Archibald would intercept him. Gritting his teeth, Archibald sent his bone magic flying, hoping to lock Kaj in the magic and all it's power to send him reeling towards the ground.
ARCHIBALD the DAUNTLESS Only the dead have seen the end of the war.
He’s coming back from the Threshold with more vines when some terrible commotion catches his ears, drawing him towards the sound not only with the sheer volume of the shouting but also because of the name cast in the wind - Kaj. An ear cocks back and brows rise quizzically as the young crafter turns and walks towards the area it seems all this hubbub is arising from, vines draped over his shoulders and swaying gentle in the sweeping wake of his steps.
It seems the voice he’d heard bellowing was some tall, dark stallion of equine heritage, who Dragomir eyes nervously mostly because he’s one of those men who carries himself with all his weaponry out in the open, a dragon of a man, ironically followed by a supremely fluffy wolf like animal with a curled tail and pretty russet and white fur. The warrior is glaring up into the sky, which sends his blue eyes there, first, rather than to the gaggle of beings on ground level with him, and so he misses the battle between the Queen and the pegasus, seeing only his King like a golden bullet whipping through the heavens as two females rise to challenge his charge.
His confusion grows. Alysanne is not the sort to assault her king, and while Semira had shown signs of being emotional enough to explode, it doesn’t seem like a thing either of the two would be doing. And so he stares, really hard. So hard his head starts to hurt, broad eyes nervously looking over to the dark stallion as if to ask what in the fuck before he hears the crackling of flames, a blur catching his eyes as they sweep towards Archibald.
Kahlua.
There is no time to be offended or wounded that she has called for Kaj, no time to dwell on his heartache or that he has spent many days avoiding the painted Queen. He’s happened in at the exact moment that the poor woman has realized that she’s killed the idiot’s snake, and rather than being glad that she’s defeated the friend of her enemy she responds in a most Kahlua way by squalling about like a child.
Dragomir’s eyes grow wider, the infuriated Aurelia approaching with all the swiftness of a starved, recently poked in the eye tiger…
And Kahlua goes down, swaying for a few moments after the hoofs impact her head. All the composure he’d held together in his shock is quite suddenly falling apart as he hears the thud of her body against the grass, remembering a much more gentle tumble down so many months ago after she’d finished the wall.
His eyes narrow as he looks at the white and gold mare, the stupid one who had challenged a sweet and innocent woman so well loved by her kin and who had subsequently lost a part of her soul for it. His frame shakes, each muscle trembling as he attempts to hold himself back, teeth gritting tightly against one another and groaning under the pressure as he takes measure and memory of every inch of the pegasus should he have to hunt her down for killing his love.
But his Queen is rising, hope with it in his chest, and he feels such pride for his sweet Kahlua that she is so brave and strong for her people; he knows that this is something she must do, and that she has actually risen to meet the challenge further proves the wisdom of their Goddess and people.
The last few moments of the battle aren’t as intense as they were when he first arrived, the stallion watching it all unfold with faith that the Moon had already shown she would punish the idiot mare for assaulting the Sunshower (she had, after all, lent Kahlua the strength to maim her very core) and that justice would be repaid by his own hooves, if nothing else. He listens to the closing words of the stupid bitch after she picks up the limp body of her companion, ears pinning back atop his head as he snorts angrily into the air, turning away from the scene before Kahlua can notice he is there, before he has to talk with her about the things he never wishes to feel again.
He is glad she is alive, yes.
But in many ways… perhaps it would have been better if it had not been so.
Let Kaj help her, this time, he sourly (and childishly) thinks, breaking the memory of protecting her while she slept into a thousand pieces, dropping one with each step he took away from her.
[ OOC: it's sooo bad omg :( ]
Dragomir</style> where light shines, shadows will stretch</style>