"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.
Tallsun brings a rare and luscious heat to the Aurora Basin that shines down in golden beams of perfection and easily soaks into the unkempt, threadbare hide of the ancient looking stallion sprawled below. He sighs his pleasure, eyes closed to the unyielding brightness of the sun, and settles himself more comfortably in the shallow depression of barren earth cut across the center of the valley. Others might call this band of cleared and leveled ground a 'road,' but he sees its greater potential as an ideal basking spot - all others be damned.
“This is a morning well spent,” he croons, lazily flicking the tufted end of his tail up and over the hollow of his neck where it curves to meet the sudden outcropping of his shoulder blade, trailing its greasy, splintered ends over the small python loosely coiled there. “Which means that someone will be along shortly to ruin it, I'm sure. Helovians have this incredible knack for appearing where they’re not wanted.”
The python, for his part, seems wholly unconcerned by his bonded’s prophesying. Too young to grasp the use of language yet and not of any species known for its physical expressions of emotion, he simply chuckles a silent, serpent laugh and presses his own happiness into the mind of the other as if to say, enjoy it while it lasts then, a sentiment the stallion can fully agree with. Tail dropping to lay lifeless as the rest of their two dozing bodies, he spares a moment of mental approval for the young companion, wondering if perhaps they aren't so ill suited as he'd thought, before quieting his mind of coherent thought and drifting pleasantly between sleep and wake.
His cracked black hooves dragged his zombie like body through the lands of the Basin. His large crowned hung level with his spine as his muscles shifted under his skin. Gray stone cold eyes narrowed as the beams from the sun reached their claws towards them. Flicking thick tangled tresses over his scared haunches. The weather this tall sun was hot, thick and humid feeling. His tones body dripped with light accents of sweat beading towards the ground. He let a small sigh slip from his maw as the demonic beast moved further into the Basin.
Black ears heard the sound of another creature lurking around. He wanted to just stop there and turn around. Nox was not in the mood to deal with another grumpy beast of the Basin. Tangled tresses drifted in the cool breeze that filled the valley for a small second, then it was stagnant once again. The voice he heard traveled to his skull once again, and he soon saw the beast that had made the sounds. The grumpy old stag stood half asleep in front of the demon. A frown fell upon his maw as his cracked hooves traveled closer to the grump. The thick frame of the black stallion looked much heavier than the old tall beast.
Cold eyes looked upon the beast and his companion from a distance. They rolled at the thought of having to say something to the old man. The demonic beast just wanted to slip on past him and not say a thing, but what if he woke up? Nox wondered closer to the man and his deep Latin voice roared from his chest. "Hello old man, what do you think of that last herd meeting we had? You were very quiet compared to your normal outspoken self. How have you been Albrecht? " The roaring voice from hell came to a halt as his skull shifted to the side waiting for a response.
“I fucking told you.” He huffs unpleasantly not-so-under his breath, eying the other stallion as he approaches. The two could nearly be father and son, with matching black coats and backswept horns, but the younger lacks any of the elders hereditary ruff, a sure sign of their genetic differences. When his mouth opens he seems to roar rather than speak, an accent the elder isn’t familiar with alternately clipping and emphasizing certain syllables, voice full and deep. The elders ears pin flat in the onslaught of noise. “I’m old, boy, not deaf.” He sneers, wondering if the boy ever speaks at a normal decibel or if his hearing is so damaged by his own voice that he no longer hears himself. The python laughs a silent laugh, accustomed to his bondeds ire and fully aware that this latest fit of nastiness is only beginning, if such an endless span of bad temper can be said to begin or end at all.
“And since you asked," he continues, “I think that this herd is a joke. We have sneaks that don’t sneak, warriors that don’t patrol or practice. If not for the healers and Weaver, the other herds would think we’ve disbanded altogether. Our Lady and most of our unranked members are absent but for the call of meetings and yet the Lord of the Basin wants us to believe in our strength, wants us to invite others to come see our dearly abandoned - " A slight hesitation breaks the flow of his sentence before he relents to the term, “home.” It's been months since he first passed between the iron Sentinels and though he dislikes the cold, the inhabitants, and at least one of the leaders here, he continues to haunt the glacial valley. It may not feel like 'home' to him, but its probably beneficial that it doesn't. Only most of the residents here want him dead after all.
He pauses then, momentarily taken aback by the youths final question. One ear flicks forward. He'd thought that no one noticed his good behavior. Deimos certainly makes no mention of it. The others face gives no indication to his feelings, but to ask at all is a momentous step farther than anyone else has bothered taking. The elders temper softens, likely imperceptibly, but if the other cares to look closely he might see one less wrinkle around his perpetually furrowed brows.
"Oh I'm fantastic!" He trills sarcastically, "I nearly froze to death this Frostfall, I had the piss beaten out of me by some black and gold son of a bitch, I've had my balls pin-cushioned by brambles, and somehow among the sea of inadequate rank holders around here I'm still the most egregious fault to this herds infrastructure in our Lord and Saviors mind.” He's well aware that the Lord of the Basin voiced several concerns during their most recent herd meeting, but the portion pertaining to him specifically is all that stands out in the mind of the elder, a simple warning shot amplified to nuclear fallout by his personal bias and sensitivities. "But more importantly how have you been darling?"
Black ears almost pinned at the man's response. Gray eyes dug at the mans soul like stone daggers. Old demons jumped and lunged at the man through his pupils. They fixated on the bronze hair laced beast, his horns almost mimicked Nox's demonic set. "My voice is not that loud old man. " Deep tones sprouted from the dept's of hell and flooded from his mouth like escaping souls. Cold eye's narrowed listening to the man answer his question. With no surprise the elder willing spat out how he felt about the herd. Nox moved his heavy hell like horns in a small nodding agreement. The man was correct with every word that cut through his tongue. Nox let his deep voice rumble when the old man finished. "Well I can see what you are saying, but believe it or not the Basin does come together when disaster strikes. Yes I do believe some of our ranks need more training and recruits. Rexanna has had a lot on her mind, and you might say that is no excuse and you are right. She still can do her job very very well, she just needs to get out of her slump. Negativity does not help the situation. The reaper might seem like he does not care, but he will fight for your life and your right. If someone takes anything from the Basin that we did not catch, Deimos will get it back. " He realized he was rambling and his voice came to a halt. "But I do understand how you feel... sometimes I feel like that too.." The demonic voice had a lower and softer tone. It almost held an ounce of somber in its depths.
Gray eyes drifted away as he man spoke about how he was doing. Dagger like tones stabbed at his ears and his skull turned away for just a moment. "That gold and black boy use to be in the Basin. He is related to The Reaper. That boy is nothing but trouble now, I try to just stay away from the little prick. Why don't you ask Johnny to weave you a Cloak, or a Blanket? I am sure he would be more than willing, or you can challenge a sneak to find one, and steal it for you. They need the practice. I will keep my eye out for something that might help you this year. If you have a cave I can help with a fire if you need it. That should keep you warmer on the bone chilling days " Harshness that was usually in his voice fluttered when the man spoke about the cold. Nox had no problem with it but being old does not help the bronze man. "Deimos hate no one in the herd... he is just difficult to understand trust me..." A sigh fell from his black velvet maw as he listened to the man ask him how he was. "I spent a whole season away from the basin on a quest for Lena, but I have been well. Winter does not bother me very much... I have just been creeping through the shadows of life. "
The stallions ears relax and even swing partially away from the back of his maneless skull, his anger suddenly dropping from boil to simmer. The ebony healer seems unaffected by his venomous words, the rancor in them falling impotent against his impassively iron gaze. The elder wonders briefly if he's slow in the head, to have simply missed the litany of hostility in his tirade, but when he opens his mouth to recommence his roaring - and the old stallion is not convinced that he doesn't have some kind of hearing damage to think that he's actually talking at a normal volume right now - his answers are clear and concise, even concurring on several points. The old stallions opinion of him rises slightly, though not enough to silence his griping or soften his features completely.
"I did not see the Reaper galloping to my defense." He rumbles, half under his breath. "Nor did I see him rush to my aid when I returned, beaten and bleeding." The skin of his left shoulder twitches self-consciously, still hairless and puckered where the Songbird managed to close the grisly opening of his wound. The spastic movement disturbs his young companion and causes him to shift farther down his bondeds spine, folding his limbless, narrow body over the ridge of the stallions withers without fully waking from his doze, still predominantly focused on soaking up the warmth of the day - an admirable endeavor from his bondeds perspective, but then the healer jerks his attention back to the conversation, cutting off any praise he might have communicated.
"You know the asshole?" He blurts before the whole of the others response is absorbed. He'd certainly seemed to think he was somebody, but being a relative of the Reaper would certainly make sense, being such a peach of a boy and all. He snorts contemptuously. "Figures." And then asks, since neither had bothered to exchange contact information before separating, "What is his name?"
The black stallions calmness and quiet demeanor seems incongruent with his burly frame and booming voice, but dwelling on it, the elder wouldn't have guessed him a healer on first meeting either. He has the body of a warrior, strength and discipline evident in the way that he stands square on his hooves and stares unflinching into the eyes of his company. There's nothing inviting or warm about his presence, but his words continue to be measured and amiable, suggesting and then even offering his help. One tentative ear flicks forward at the elders poll.
"That would be... helpful." He murmurs, tone lightening as the fire of his irritable personality dwindles. "The Weaver has been helpful as well. He made this, He admits, leaving out the part where he stormed into the crafters cave demanding that he do so and nosing the wrap of sweat and dirt streaked cotton around the base of his neck, rustling the small amulet on its golden chain inside. "Though I think it could do with a wash." Nostrils wrinkling, he gives an amused grin. What better man-talk than gross smells and lack of hygiene?