"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.
Tilney's marked legs could not carry him fast enough through the marsh, his spinning hooves clinking among brush, bush and bone. Kaos had returned, yet this was not the only dreaded whisp of a thought that richoeted throughout his mind - The little tree-stamped urchin who dwelled at the feet and twitching flank skin of Throat Warriors had been abandoned.
How could he be so stupid? to pull a child from danger only to leave him alone and lost, equally as vulnerable as before. "BYRON!" The father called; a screech among the chanting wind, a brontide in the sky.
The physicians green gaze crossed diligently, deesperately over the dirty grove where the little boy had last been seen, yet to no avail. He had fled. "BYRON!"
The cries now came frequently like a siren, as if demanding the world around him to give up his son to him.
Fearing the worst for his unmet son, tears began to spring from his eyes as his scampering steps took him out of the forest and towards the ocean - a place where he had seen too many a fear realised. It was here he had plucked Myrrinne from the waves, here he had been pulled out to an endless demise at sea... yet it had also been here that he had been safely returned home, had met Ultima, and so much more. Would the sea return his son or take him? "please..." the man uttered tearfully to the roaring waves, standing weakly upon the shore.
02-06-2017, 12:26 PM (This post was last modified: 02-11-2017, 07:23 AM by Byron.)
Byron
Oh how part of him wished he hadn't fled, stayed beneath the protective cover of his sister wing and followed her from the chaos, listened to his papa when he'd told his sister to keep him safe. There had been death and then that monster, filling up his vision with carnage while small fuzzy ears were assaulted by the crackle of magic and bellowed commands. All his youthful bluster and courage had melted from him and he'd ran, sapped every ounce of happiness from his bones as he tore across the marsh on wobbly feet.
Fright stumbled him through the marsh, one or twice he'd fallen, hoof stuck momentarily in sucking mud or tripped by a mocking piece of bone, a steady stream of scrapes soon peppered thin legs. Pristine coat now dirtied with a mess of stagnant water and dirt, the same treatment given to his crop of blonde, stuck against his neck and legs. Terror had caused tears to prick at the corner of his odd coloured eyes and sob out a rattled breath. He'd ran until the murky grime filtered out into sand and sea grasses, and when he fell that time he'd curled in on himself. Comforted by the familiarity of sand and salt wind, it still didn't make up for what he'd saw, and what he felt. A small voice in his head tearfully chanting 'I should of stayed at home, I should of listened to ma' as his ringed ears nestled against his poll and he squeezed his eyes shut.
Byron didn't know how long he'd been huddled there, praying that the grasses would wrap around tight and keep him safe. Pay him back for all the times he'd laid among them and chattered to them, the wind and the rolling waves. Byron, an eye dared to crack open an inch, someone or something was calling out for him somewhere in the distance. Another wash of dread wrapped around his small frame, please let it not be a monster, he hoped.
No, a chestnut stag appeared shortly after his name had evaporated from the air, the lantern wrapped in his antlers and the familar marking painting his side. Pa. His dad had come looking for him? He didn't realize that he'd sprang up from his nest within the sand, mud painted coat now itched with coarse grit and wounds stung their complaint, until he'd nearly fallen down the dunes in a desperate bid to reach his father.
"PA." Half-choked with a sob caught between relief and renewed fear, petite muzzle pressed forward to try bury into the stallion's side to hide his tears.
It was the faintest whistle upon the breeze; no more than a gentle chirp, though still enough to cause Tilneys tearful gaze to jerk over his shoulder in search of the bleating colt. "Byron! Please! son, where are you!?" He chanted once more, fearing somehow that this may well be his final chance. Time moved far too quickly, it snapped and grabbed at any hold it could, and in the blink of an eye worlds could turn - Tilney knew this much too well.
The doctor's pale hooves, hot and swollen from their bashed ordeal over tree root and rocks, soon turned in the sand to face the dunes instead. If the sea had not taken the small boy, had he fallen on the sand?
Not wishing to give up just yet, the flaxen father strode forth, limping and hopping his way up the beach in the direction of the young one's sob.
Far too long he search, kicking away sand and shrub, roaring in frustration when his son was not miraculously uncovered. "BYRON!" he finally bellowed, begining to succum to defeat. Pa!
A plush, wet muzzle hit his girth, and Tilney turned his cranium to find his perfect golden-haired child. He was safe, albeit battered and bruised. He was safe. "Oh!" Tilney cried, scooting his hocks underneath him and falling to the sand, pulling his small boy over onto his round iberian belly. "Dont you EVER run off like that! Do you hear me?"