"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.
Well, this probably wasn't one of her best ideas lately. Coming back to the last place she was before she left, back to the last place Mesec was before everything got fucked (let's be honest, it was already fucked, but this was the final fuck that really fucked it all, and sadly didn't involve any fucking whatsoever). It was also the place where she came back, where she found her Wildfire and did fuck, but whatever happiness that ought to have brought was burned away to ash along with him, and it billowed away in the Frostfall winds.
This was a place rich with temptation, even if she pretended otherwise; those memories were like vibrations that the surroundings carried, the sound whispering up into her bones and inviting back old itches that had previously been scratched. So to add to that a terrible winter storm that came in and pressed Ampere to stay, the blinding snow too treacherous to risk, and her new metal toy and penchant for sticking it into water she could manage to see what it tasted like, and Ampere certainly had a recipe for bad idea.
She waited out the storm in this land of poignant memory, spending her time by plugging into all the sweet, aromatic berries that could be found here, even in winter. She drank her fill of them with her handy tap, the heat warm in gut, and it provided the extra benefit of a cozy haze for her to tuck her troubled mind and worried heart into. "Storm over," Kygo tapped on her consciousness with a terseness that suggested he didn't approve. Maybe it also meant he didn't think all the storms were over, just the blizzard that trapped her here.
Ampere laughed in response, and sloppily swayed through the trees with an emboldened middle finger raised up to the world.
"The storm ain't fucking over, it just got started." Her words, though slurred by her tongue that felt a bit too thick and heavy for normal, were still coherent. The tequila of the cactus back home certainly hit her harder than this berry juice, but the sweetness of them as a bit more dangerous, much easier to drink more without realizing, and they hit Ampere's sweet tooth that the sour fire water didn't.
"COME ON YOU SHIT, I'LL TAKE YOU ON!" Kygo ruffled his feathers impatiently, stamping his feet back and forth on the tree branch he sheltered in. She'd gone mad, yelling at snow that had stopped falling.
He didn't realize though, that it never stopped falling, and that's what she was yelling at.
Open Spar.
Frostfall, Green Labyrinth. Blizzard just ended, snow on the ground, decently thick trees around, cold as balls. Ampere is inebriated.
Ampere
Tag me only if starting a new thread.
Magic or force permitted any time, aside from death.
But our life's made up of choices
Some without appeal
They took for granted your soul
And it's ours now to steal
Loretta was designed for this type of weather. The snow and ice welcomed her. She had her own frozen kingdom when the world was captured by winter. Archibald, while not entirely entranced in the blustering cold, was not spiteful toward it. Loretta, however, found her joy here. Just after a storm, the cur was rocketing through the once lush, verdant forest. Her mind was alight, on fire with youthful wonder and playful schemes. It was not unusual for Loretta to step into these playful moods when her and Archibald were alone, and it was also not unusual for her snap instantly out of them as she did now, rounding a corner and skidding to a halt before the screaming black and blue mare.
Archibald trotted behind her leisurely, his head low. He was in no hurry, the old familiar freedom of the vagabond lifestyle hanging over his shoulders weightlessly. It was like breathing fresh air, not holding the title of Czar, even though seasons before he had taken the title by war. The time was changing, and with it he was. The Earth God needed someone else to rule his lands--someone who did not feel the bloodthirsty stirring that Archibald felt far too often. For so long he had tried to snuff it out, tried to diminish his desire for destruction and bloodshed for the sake of leading his people well. Now, however, he did not have to do that. The freedom was endless. He was once again his own king, his own agent, ruled by no one.
The Dauntless' relaxed mind snapped to attention when Loretta rounded on Ampere. He stopped, massive head moving skyward and golden eyes widening to look before him. Her voice screamed into the void of winter, beckoning an opponent. She must have heard them in the labyrinth--Loretta's romping and Archibald's unmistakable, earth-shaking gait. The behemoth snorted, stepping forward to reveal himself fully to the woman.
"Aye," He said simply, his body instantly preparing itself for the scuffle. His neck arched and his head lowered, his back rounding with all the skill of the warlord he was. The muscles in his shoulders and haunches tightened, his eyes narrowing as he pawed at the snowy ground below him. He let loose another snort, Loretta's voice sounding after in a guttural, low snarl.
[PC: 0/3 | WC: 386 | I HATE CLOSING DEFENSES PLEASE TAKE THE FIRST ATTACK ]
The world responded with a giant middle finger shaped like Archibald. "You want a fight?" the winter winds laughed, "then here's a fight you drunk stupid bitch."
Ampere stilled, bewildered as the Dauntless and his dog emerged from the thickets, their skin taut with readiness. Time slowed for a period then, granting Ampere a moment to collect, to listen to the hammering of her heart in her chest (the one she kept saying she didn't have any more), to feel the way the chill bit at her shaggy winter coat, to hear the fresh snow fall crunching under hoof where weight packed it down. Kygo hunkered down in the tree where he perched, not wanting any participation in this, though a thread of yellow fear bled into their bond and ran like urine down the back of Ampere's mind.
The Mother of Companions exhaled steadily, the visible cloud rising momentarily before dispersing. Black lashes fluttered across hard, blue eyes, and the opponent before her vanished. This wasn't Archibald- the black hairs had turned brown, and the white deepened into black- this was a memory she was fighting with everything she had. Even though her body tensed and the bone collar that should have been on him instead shifted against the slope of her neck, Ampere couldn't shake the image of the stallion burning before her. It wasn't the alcohol; that had her swaying a little bit, had her breath hot with stink and her edges dulled with reckless abandon. No, this image was born of grief and rage and it filled her mouth like saliva rushing in for a meal; and boy was she hungry.
It only took a moment for all this to shudder through her, for startled admission to slip into firm resolve. She had faced the god of war more than once, and she would do it again. She was not afraid; she was not ready, but she was not afraid. She had faced him before, and she would face him as many times as it took until she could rip him from the throne he'd built in her heart.
"Gaucho," she whispered tersely, and then she was in motion.
Her haunches bundled with a strength that paled in comparison to his, but her courage would have to make up for it. The muscled spring sent her surging forward, mouth agape in a silent bellow, teeth exposed for all their desire as her lips sneered back, matching the motion of her ears that held eagerly onto her neck. Hair and snow flew around her, while feathers whispered for balance among the winter land and liquored bones. Stupidly she drove straight on for him, and she was fast, but not fast enough for that, not even fast enough for him, as she'd likely come to find, not when she was soggy with despair and wine.
Her teeth snapped for any flesh she could manage, but she sought out his face purposefully. She did not slack her pace as she neared, more than willing to obliterate herself on the shores of his body if that would tear him down too. The collar of bony spikes that framed her neck like a bloody Valentine's day gift would be there to grip his hide if they did collide. Her fore hooves maddeningly raised up and down with furious stomping, as if she could climb him, conquer the mountain that he was and shit on the top with triumph. Even if she couldn't, and she probably wouldn't for all her sloppy maneuvering and the treachery of the snow, but shearing away hide from the thinly protected pillars of his own limbs would be good enough, for now. Around her electricity popped into life, little blue orbs born of the dead matter smothered by the ice, recreated for her passion and waiting to be gathered and wielded when she had the focus to do so.
She fought with a madness that echoed her devotion, things that were well and truly the same.
A: 1/3
D: 0/1
W: 678/800
A M P E R E
darya87.deviantart.com
Tag me only if starting a new thread.
Magic or force permitted any time, aside from death.