"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.
For someone who could not see to be trapped in a place overflowing with hidden dangers and magic, she was as good as dead. Her nares were filled with the scent of cedar, her ears ringing with the sound of birds chirping, the overall atmosphere overwhelming her senses and making her nauseous with the sensation of vertigo. Shaking her already-tousled mane, the pale mare began to take small hesitant steps forward, muzzle extended, before a voice jarred her frame to a halt.
Big sister, over here!
No, it couldn't be.
Sissy!
Ellie!
Sister!
-elle! Gis- GiselleGiselleGiselleGISELLEGISELLE-
"ENOUGH!" the blind ess shouted, enraged with the tricks the forest was playing with her. How dare it - she had been searching for her little brothers for four years. It wasn't that simple, they couldn't just turn up that easily. But she was angry at herself for believing it, if only for a moment. And beneath her hidden rage was an amount of fear that could not quite be quelled; the forest made them out to be..... ghost-like. Her skin quivered, her breath coming out in strained huffs, her audits flickering about uneasily. She wanted to move, but it seemed her heart and her brain did not have the same idea, and her feet were planted firmly in the same spot they were several moments before.
Perhaps, in the end, becoming a sitting duck was just as dangerous as becoming a moving target. Something slick slowly wrapped itself around her ankle, and curiously, she bent her head down to brush her nose across it before a wary snort was given. It was cool to the touch, the telltale ridges of scales rubbing the velvet of her skin the wrong way, and she quickly realized it was a snake. A soft hiss confirmed her suspicions, and, fighting her instinct to jerk backwards, she slowly tucked her head to her chest, sorrel-rimmed ears pinned directly against her cranium. After a moment's notice, she quickly flung her hoof out, sending the reptile away from her before quickly striking in its general vicinity. A few meek rattles were given before she concluded the serpent was dead, and instantly she felt sorrow for the poor creature. It probably was just seeking warmth - it was rather cold in this part of the forest. Suddenly, she was all alone, and all she wanted to do was go home.
But where was home? She didn't have one, not since her parents died and her brothers - no, she refused to believe they were anywhere but here. Because they were here, they were alive, they were out there somewhere, waiting for her to find them. She had to hurry. A pang shot through her heart, and the antlered molly began to trek onward into a new world with a toss of the head and a flick of the tail.
The oceanic pair finds themselves in Helovia’s Threshold on this beautiful Orangemoon day—both flush with excitement. With the arrival of autumn, comes the beginning of her first ever Aurora Basin festival—and Tiamat can hardly wait! Her muscles are practically bubbling in anticipation of the event, sure that it will be a joyous success. There is a spring to her step as she dances through the trees, laughing breathlessly while her doe-eyes roam the forest, searching for any sign of company.
Suddenly, a voice shatters through the fragile silence—a single, unintelligible word that reverberates between the wooded trees, sending several small flocks of birds fluttering from the leafy boughs. Tiamat pauses mid-step, a cloven hoof hovering over the grass, white eyes sweeping through the marbled shadows. “Did you here that, Nim?” The ocean mare turns to her young companion, sapphire nostrils curling and a dainty ear slanting as she tries to identify the source. The Leviathan moves closer to her bonded, a fin brushing against her sloped shoulder while large, ice-blue eyes stare with barely-concealed caution.
It is her bonded’s composure that keeps Nimue from squealing in fright—for while the world is certainly wrought with black secrets and devious shadows, the blue Mender remains as a beam of light in the darkness: ever-burning with hope and confidence in the goodness of those around her. She does not bristle with caution at the strange sound (perhaps foolishly so) but is compelled by her curiosity instead.
Leaning a step forward, she continues to inspect the forest around her. Catching the muted thrum of hoof beats, Tiamat quickly turns her doe-eyes in the general direction, catching a flash of white through the earthen hues. “Hello?” She calls in her airy, soprano voice, the length of her leonine tail swaying behind her as she pursues the stranger. Whickering gently to her orca companion, the oceanic pair move in synch, Nimue slowing a little to hover at the blue mare’s flanks when they catch sight again of the unfamiliar equine.
With her pale eyes brightening in excitement (ever eager to build new friendships), Tiamat offers a kindly whinny as they approach, catching up at a trot before halting with a billowing of hair and chiming shells. An honest smile breaks widely across velvet lips, and she extends her muzzle towards the mare in greeting. “Hi there! My name is Tiamat,” she breathes happily, and then looks to her face and takes note of the mare’s eyes. Hidden beneath tangled curls, it is murky where it should be bright, and although she is well aware of the abnormalities in Helovia, Tiamat’s healing experience leads her believe that, perhaps, this one is blind.
Without skipping a beat, the blue Mender pushes her muzzle forward more, slowly, to gently brush against the other’s, in order to make clear her friendly gesture. She breathes from her nostrils, her smile as soft as her breath. “Are you alright?” It is an inquiry not only of politeness, but also of genuine concern. Tiamat remembers her own first day in Helovia, and how disorienting a whole new world can be. She is eager to offer aid in any way she can.
notes; Welcome to Helovia!:) would you like to be tagged? Nimue reference <3 “Speech.”
09-05-2016, 05:52 AM (This post was last modified: 09-05-2016, 08:56 AM by Maren.)
BY THE PRECEPTS OF HER PURITY
The fog oozed forward, soothingly tangling its damp paws on the shadowed moss. Mr. Teatime clawed the trees he passed, seemingly content with the forever curling and dancing whiteness around him. Maren watched him, smiling as the positive stream of his emotions unburdened her thoughts. Autumn had come and the leaves of summer were letting go of their branches, falling down in their bright colored rustiness, swirling in their motion; much like feathers, but louder.
Soundfully.
She felt her tiger companion looking up at her, and she turned her gaze to him. His eyes lay sharp in her stare and she felt his words in her mind for the first time, perhaps. Sounds, was the only thing she heard. Loud — then he ran off, his jumps more powerful now that he had grown in age and muscle, to investigate. Maren could do nothing other than follow him (or at least that’s how she felt), letting the sea of dancing fog and shadowy trees behind her and letting her hoofs lead her.
She scanned the area around her as her hoof beats echoed dully into the forest floor, the shifting canopy above her throwing patches of sun and shadow as she went. Then, trotting into a clearing surrounded by large trees, stood two pretty mares around which Mr. Teatime was already circling, perhaps scanning if they were okay. Her pace slowed as she drew closer, until she halted next to them, just in time to hear the sea-blue mare saying her name. Maren’s golden eyes were silent as she looked from the one mare to the other, not knowing either and wondering if she was interrupting something or not. “Excuse me, my companion heard someone scream.” Her words were rather dry, perhaps not as uneasy as she could have sounded, had there truly been something wrong. Her silent gaze traveled to the pale mare. Her coat seemed pristine and clear like snow, except from the patch of brown shadowing her face, but Maren was most intrigued by her antlered crown, which weren't common among the Dragon's Throat's inhabitants — Perhaps this girl is new to Helovia, the thought breaking her pondering and fueling her interest in this random meeting.
Meanwhile, Mr. Teatime has found himself distracted by the blue whale, following the girl-who-looks-like-the-sea, and sweeps his tail at it playfully.
The blue mare had a friendly ringing to her voice and Maren remembered to at least try her best to mirror that as well. She scraped her throat. “Let me introduce myself, I am the Diviner of the Dragon’s Throat, Maren. That is Mr. Teatime,” she pointed with one of her feathered fingers, after which her wings nestled themselves against her mane once more. “You do look alright,” she helped herself to adding, quite matter-of-factly and unable to conceal the slight judging tone to her voice. There was no excuse. As much as she'd liked to try, she wasn't nice. She rather did not pretend to be, either, and if this mare couldn't handle a few uncomfortable blisters on her behind, she wasn't going be the right material to become a desert dweller, anyway.
09-05-2016, 11:01 PM (This post was last modified: 09-05-2016, 11:03 PM by Misael.)
There is an ache within him to free himself of the bounds of the desert, spending too much time thinking and not near enough doing. He felt crushed by his blazing desire to do, an oxymoron within the own clockworks of his mind. Miseal had work to do, the spies needed leading and teaching, the DT was a mess of changing leadership and Gaucho...Gaucho was gone. The Dragon's Throat was having a rough time to say the least.
So he traveled. He left his home, determinded to still do, but to escape the bounds of sorrows within the sandy walls of the throat. He loved it there, owed everything he had to it's sand dunes and sunrises, so he set out to find those to bring with him home, if he was failing at doing everything else, at least this, this he would be good at. Lazarus releases a growl into the day, attracting Miseal's attention to the mumbling in the distance. He sends the hunter forwards, following closely behind with long, loud strides (it was never easy to hide the steps of a man of his size) cautiously approaching the scene.
Golden orbs settle upon three woman, Maren, who he offers a soft grin was a fellow friend whom he cared about, a lovely woman indeed. The other blue woman, Miseal vaguely remembered from a scene that he prefers not to think about, but he offered a kind smile nonetheless. The last woman, purely white with a bayed face and antlers, Miseal dips his large crowned cranium to, "Welcome, Miseal and Lazarus here, Sleuth of the Dragon's Throat."
She comes back to the Threshold. Again. It’s a place she seems to spend far too much time in with far too little to show for it. Apparently she’s stubborn, because she keeps coming back anyway. Or bored. Or restless. Or some combination of all these things. Whatever the reason, she’s here, thankful that it’s cool now at least. Because the walk in Tallsun really sucked. So, so much. She’s a creature of the sea, not land, and hot and sun are really not her thing.
It doesn’t take long in the Threshold for a scream to catch her attention. Well, that’s interesting, she thinks. It’s not the appropriate response. The appropriate response would be concern, would be to kick into action to make sure whoever was screaming was okay. Instead, Syrena meanders toward the source of the sound, moving no faster than she ever does. By the time she gets there, it’s already a crowd. Tiamat, who she recognizes from their meeting by the sea. Not of the sea, but certainly adopted by it. That’s where their similarities end, but still, she likes the mare simply for that one fact alone.
The other two introduce themselves – Maren and Misael – she barely bothers to learn their names, let alone their companions. Both are from the Throat. Well, that’s just overkill, but whatever. “Not all hurts are worn on the outside,” she says flatly, mostly directed at the mare with the wings behind her ears. She’d judge that, but she’s the queen of useless color changing magic, so she can’t fault someone else’s useless traits. “Syrena, from the Hidden Falls.” she adds, remembering her manners (vaguely). She doesn’t ask if the mare is alright. The question has already been asked, she suspects, given the ear winged mare’s remark. Instead she falls silent, waiting, as she always does.