"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.
A boat trip needs water. The only problem about that is the searing Tallsun heat - Volterra has forgotten the last time he took a long, cold draught of cold water. Everywhere in Helovia it is lukewarm and filled with dead flies, hardly appetizing. As a result, the beastling has decided to use his brain, and has chosen instead to come to the land of snow and ice. There is less here than there was when he came here last, the snow spread out to patches here and there, but there is enough for what Volterra intends. Snow is cold, as he found out to his detriment last time he was here. When it melts it will surely remain cold, or so his logic suggests. It will hopefully last longer as well, and who knows how long they will be aboard the boat?
He holds the bucket between his jaws, Vérzés riding on his favoured nook between the titan's broad shoulders. The flesh of his withers is already hardened by the scars from the red's claws, and he wears the lacerations with pride. Today he intends to use the crimson war-dragon for more menial ends, as he drops the bucket on its side and signals with his mind for Vérzés to swoop down and hold it in place. Through their mental bond he can feel the blood-dragon's displeasure at being used for something that doesn't involve cutting into things, but he is of an age where he is still quite obedient, and obligingly drops down to secure the bucket. Volterra begins to use his nose to scoop snow into the bucket, the cold on his nose rather pleasant against the heat on his back. ""
@[Nymeria]
[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far ] [ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]
Hundred years, hundred more
Someday we may see a woman king, sword in hand.
Swing at some evil and bleed.
Arya carried a bucket in hand moving with a leap in her step. She knew the perfect place for this quest, the north. Despite the impending doom upon Helovia, there was something eager in the way she moved. In her mind, she could finally be a hero. She could finally aid in something beyond herself. The huntress was doing what she desired most.
With Rhoa se pushed them northward with a bucket in mouth. She noticed a figure off in the distance and so she drew forward at a swift trot. “Hey!” She called through her the handle in her mouth. As she drew closer it was a young boy with his dragon. A smile passed over lips at the sight of their team work. “That’s really clever.” She glanced over at her partner. “Hey, why don’t you hold the bucket in place like the dragon Rhoa? I’m more used to the snow than you are so I can push it in.”
I like that Arya knows what she's doing. She seems to have a plan, and although originally that plan was vowing to murder my father and screaming at me, I think we've really worked out our differences. Although ... well. Given that Father is now technically a murderer, I wonder if her feelings have grown stronger on that matter. I don't think I'll bring it up.
I've never been this far north before, and I try not to shiver quite so obviously when she's looking. I pretend that I'm merely holding my wings to my sides, rather than using my feathers to trap what little heat my body is giving off. As she suggests that I hold onto the bucket the way the dragon is, I nod and smile.
I think i'd do anything she asked at this point.
"Yeah. That's a good idea."
I cast a sideways glance at the dragon as I hold the bucket steady, glad indeed that Arya will be the one to fill it. How did our neighbor here get a companion like that? I think my jealousy could fill this bucket 10 times over. I silently grumble to myself, as I try to help scoop the snow in.
Ears pivot and massive head turns as he hears a voice - a rather complimentary voice. Clever, it calls him, and he can't help but feel himself swell slightly with pride like a preening bird. "Thanks!" He's transported back to his younger weeks as a beam spreads across his face, christened by a snow moustache. A small hiss comes from his feet and he looks down to see Vérzés looking decidedly unhappy, his claws rasping into the bucket as he pulls it back up onto its base, three-quarters full with snow.
Another filly arrives, and again his male pride takes a big boost as they copy his idea amongst themselves. "Are you two sharing together in the boat?" he questions, looking between them. Maybe they're sisters, although he can see very little resemblance. "I'm Volterra, this is Vérzés." The dragon chirps, forked tail lashing as he clambers up his bonded's leg to nestle into his withers. Claws dig into the colt's scarred flesh, but he barely notices the pinprick sensation.
@[Nymeria]
[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far ] [ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]
The snow cracks and crunches beneath her twilight hooves, sending up a puff of silver dust to wreathe about her dark ankles, glittering patterns of infinitesimally small flakes. Chilled skin quivers subtly over warm sinew, breath fogging into curlicue clouds as she moves towards the northern reaches of Helovia, taking pleasure in her idle (broaching on lethargic) pace. In the thin of her summer coat, it tastes like winter here, supported by her chapped lips and papery lungs; if she were to take a wrong turn, perhaps she would be lost to the winter labyrinth. Maybe she would freeze in entirety, and the snow would swallow her up.
Nymeria lost, forever and always.
On the horizon, dark against the glassglow, sleek contours of the steppe, she observes a clustering of equines. Even if not for the drop of violent red against the feral backdrop warning her of her brother's dragon, she would've recognized each sweep in Volterra's sinew, each curve in his spine. Wombmates; one, forever.
"Ne felejtsd el!" Slender limbs break out into a loping trot, swallowing up the distance between her and her pig-headed brother in a matter of moments. Irises (bright as rubies) flick towards the unfamiliar pegasus colt, brows curling upwards in an expression middling between vague amusement and distant coolness; and then her eyes slide towards Arya, a cordial grin flickering on her lips. "I'm Nymeria, and he is Lilómiel." The skull-painted daughter lifts her dainty muzzle skywards in an easy, sweeping gesture meant to capture the black dragon tumbling through the sky far above.
Slender ears twitch, nares cusping to drink in the smell of salt on the breeze; lids widen, almost idly, to see Vérzés and the bucket. Clever.