"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.
Although the very real problem that Ampere, his dearest friend, would murder him as soon as they were reunited, there were other problems that Mesec needed to face right now. Ampere and her reaction to this entire thing would have to wait until he got back to the Throat. And if, by sheer happenstance, he happened to take a very long time to get back there? Well, that was just the way things were going to go. The problem now that the feline had left, now that he was facing a small bird, was that he did not know how to care for a baby bird. He had no idea what zephyrs ate, whether they were the berries-and-seeds type of bird or the fish-and-blood type of bird. The first would be a lot easier, he thought, though how he was going to help the bird eat the food seemed daunting.
And the baby bird, growing cuter now that it wasn’t quite so ugly with the stickiness of hatching, was just sitting there staring up at him with those big eyes. He was amazed at how quickly the bond formed, how fast he felt a kinship with the creature before him, still sitting in the shards of the silver-laced black egg and still with a piece of it atop it’s head like a tiny little hat.
“Uh, hi.” Mesec started, lowering his head toward the little bird and being greeted with a chorus of chirps that sounded like they were happy, though how was he supposed to know what a happy bird sounded like? Or a happy zephyr, really, because it was clear even now that the chick before him was no baby robin. It had four wings, covered in black and silver down. What would it look like as it grew up? Or… he? Mesec was pretty sure it was a he but, again, he had no idea.
His mind was already working out to try and remember who he knew that had a bird companion that might be able to help him out, if he could find them in time. This was a precious gift that his mother had given him, more precious than he had expected, and equally daunting. The fear of failure had not left him, and really it only grew stronger now that there was a life directly connected to his. He would do whatever it took to care for the little hatchling, who was now attempting to hop out of the remains of the egg and toward him, chirping like a madman the entire time.
original html by rottie
picture by xdjurax at deviantart
open to any! Especially any that could offer some companion advice <33
please tag Mesec in replies
non-life threatening force is allowed at all times
Lena I'm buried and covered peaceful under millions of stars
They chose a weaver’s dance, simple, finessed, graceful, and elegant, finite in its display and wares – maneuvering amidst the heavenly bounties and the deity’s wake, pulsing and pervading the loam with a quiet, serene air. There was no purpose to the cavalcade, to the minuet, to the tranquil bolero: merely a shifting, a shaping, of composed repose in a world full of treachery and deceit. The Mender might have caved into a ruinous path of morose thoughts and rancorous sentiments, but her goals lifted them higher and higher into the air, so the pair, one sylph, one fox, waltzed and twirled to the beat of hope and aspirations, morality and virtue, casting away all the darkening shades threatening to veil their gaze. Neither were immune to the state of the world, to the savage, sinister rubble and disaster plaguing over kingdoms, empires, and sovereigns, ricocheting across worlds and thrones. Both had embarked too many times down wayward trails and hazardous depths, encased in agony, carving acrimony, but the choice afterwards was always the same, begging, yearning, coveting, and craving the woebegone trace of peace. So instead of meandering down the nettles, the thorns, the sticks and stones, they chased the highlights of the future, the promises of tomorrow, bridging gaps, singing sonnets, building and brimming perseverance amidst the belligerent throngs of war, the brutal hymns of entropy. Cranium lifted, eyes narrowed, limbs crisp, divining a dulcet step, a soft beat, they sketched the horizon and whispered amidst the wide, open color, the vast, gilded plain, the radiance of Frostfall bearing down upon them – chiseling the puffs of wintry air, glorious and harmonious with the wholesome essence of simply being alive. While they moved, shifted, sculpted, they breathed in the curious, foreign entities of other sights and sounds, an awakening unknown of labyrinths, of warrens, of strangers locked in the same midst and terrain; the fairy simply had to arch one brow towards the ivory kitsune in order to hasten the singular response.
The duo followed two light traces of anonymity, names and faces not registered into their memories or images, wandering over the cool terrain as regal entities, as noble ramparts, as pixies and cretins. Mere snippets later, Lena’s stare fixated upon the beings, intrigued and riddles with a series of questions almost immediately: for the beast, winged and glowing, was a beautiful, incandescent sight altogether (reminding her of the stars in the sky, the moons’ brilliant, lunar rays, the mysterious, enigmatic torch of its fleeting grace), the bundle at his feet was even more curious and exotic. A newfound companion? A tiny glimmer, a glorious spark, a hint, a brushstroke, of what was to come? Foreboding and foreshadowing greatness, wild with abandon? Afraid they’d be unwelcome, perhaps an intrusion, she sang from the shadows, not daring to advance, encompassing a wide grin, a beautiful smile, over the folds of her harmonious embraces. “Congratulations!” Her gaze flickered to the tiny bird nestled beneath its bonded’s protection, and Imogen chirped a serene welcoming, fluttering by the Mender’s hooves, wishing to tread closer but refraining from lack of permission.
I'll fight to survive through this thunderous life
without you by my side
All thoughts had been on the newborn companion, his entire attention and being focused on this little life that was now entwined with his. He was responsible for the bird, needed to protect it and care for it and see it thrive. Right now it didn’t really look like much, all still-drying feathers and eyes with a beak so large it was a wonder the thing did not topple right over. It seemed to like him, however, and was trying to get out of the marbled shell in order to get closer until Mesec lowered his head to sniff at him carefully, earning a sharp peck on his muzzle - which, in a weird way, felt like it was affectionate?
Truly a gift from his mother, then.
Both Mesec and the hatchling turned toward the sound of the voice from the shadows, starting at the sudden noise but - when noting the kind tone and words - they recovered quickly and a grin flashed upon Mesec’s silver-lined face. He beckoned her forward, out of the shadows - beckoned them for the chirp of the pale companion at her hooves did not go unnoticed either. He was relieved, not dismayed, at the company and would not turn them away. It truly was fortunate that someone with a companion has found him when he most needed help. “Thank you!” Although he still felt… uncertain about what lay behind this task that he had been appointed with, he cannot begrudge the responsibility when he looked upon the hatchling and felt a warm hand squeeze his heart. This was his companion.
There was a fierce flash of protectiveness that flared up within him too, in addition to that warmth (love?) but he still hoped the pair would come closer, he felt no sinister plans hiding behind that smile. Looking to her again, Mesec confessed to this stranger the predicament that he was in. “He just hatched, I… I don’t know even how to care for a baby bird.” He had thought that maybe, when bonded, he would suddenly know what to do - but, then, this would not have been a task. There would not have been so heavy a warning placed in the terms of his acceptance. “Do you?” His voice was quiet but hopeful as dusk continued to darken around them, brightening the glow of his coat and of the shell fragments.
original html by rottie
picture by xdjurax at deviantart
Lena I'm buried and covered peaceful under millions of stars
She thought to leave and give them the chance to connect, to bond, with one another. The bond between companions was a blessed, beautiful thing, and she held no notion to intrude; the awakening of curiosity wouldn’t be permitted towards the point of rudeness. So the nymph nearly bade Imogen and herself to wander away, back into the mist and abyss, along the features of secrets and dances, had the other not beckoned them from the shade and veil. They were offered acknowledgment and gratitude, questions and concerns, and the stirrings of departure flew away with the rest of her vices. Her heart rested easy, and with a crook of her brow, Imogen sauntered right behind her, settling amidst the wonder and chaos of a new attachment soaking in its fledgling stages.
The Songbird’s eyes first attended to the gentleman with the moon in his eyes and stars in his coat, familiarity notched along her brow but going nowhere else, incapable of placing a name to his features, a herald to his otherworldly physique. The nymph’s grin remained in place, stalwart and valorous as she prospered her calling, and hoped he’d do the same in turn. “I’m Lena,” and her maw gestured openly to the ivory vixen nestled at her feet, peering over the edges and fringe of eggshell and mottled bird, “and this is Imogen.” The Mender’s stare riveted towards the newcomer, glowing and blinding, nearly luminescent, as if he matched his bonded hue for hue, spark for spark, beam for beam. How well they molded and melded, strange and inspiring, beautiful and transcendent. Maybe they were pieces of the divine, and she, a mere mortal, could only gaze and speculate from below, offer rapture, reverie, and wonder to the arts of holy grails and devout armaments. Her lips traced into a fine, layered grin, bestowing riches and bejeweled compliments with winsome pride and wholesome regard. “He’s very beautiful. What will you call him?” Then, to answer his own inquiries, she bowed her head against the backdrop of sky and song, polishing over the distant memories of finding Imogen’s egg, of chasing after wily foxes and cunning eyes and dastardly tricks, of waiting for the days when it would open and show her something incredible, wonderful, and mystical. Her pale kitsune had been a vastly independent creature, but Lena suspected the bundle of wet feathers and raven inspiration may need a bit more of a touch, a nudge, before fully grown and capable of tending to himself. “My companion is a kitsune, but I’m sure their care could be similar.” She paused, reflected, mused, tilted her head vaguely over the child, then back to the moon child. “Perhaps you’d like to find him something to eat. I’m sure he’d like insects or small rodents.” Her mind began churning, a list of reminders flickering and igniting. “Make sure to keep him warm – even in Birdsong the nights and mornings can be chilly.” Her smile radiated, pulsed amidst the splendor and glamour, opulent and kind, beneficent and fervent, ardent for the opportunity to support and nurture. “Be there for him. Be mindful of your connection to one another. Can you hear his thoughts?”