"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.
and I'm a master of nothing place, of recoil and grace
Malevolent and muted, he stood by the lake amidst the press of morning with naught but seditious annihilation in his heart and tiredness on his breath. Were he more capable, he would have struck carnage along the walls of his castle and presided like a true king, a conquering, sadistic beast with a taste of damnation simmering and searing along his tongue, ravaging and plundering, foolish, heedless, lavishing and relishing in the delight of a felled foe. But his muscles delayed the unholy thoughts, the acrimonious factions, and so he merely stared across the watery void – looking for something that would never be there. He’d tell her, maybe, if he saw her again, how his bones had ached and how his heart felt utterly, irreverently triumphant. He’d been a persecuting, machinating tool of mayhem, and it’d been the only sonnet, the only song, the only drums he’d ever needed to hear. He’d spill the tale across his molten manifestation and she’d frown at him, always avoiding the path of his devastation and ruin, always sidling away from his consignment into oblivion – and perhaps, he would’ve laughed, just because it sounded right, to chuckle after a win, to smirk and snicker at the notion of an enemy falling to pieces, of destroying his opponent all over again. The Reaper closed his eyes and imagined the rain. When he opened them again, she wasn’t there. But a blackened figure was, just as desolate, just as withered as the rest of their distorted flesh. He knew him from meetings and crowds, from the pelt hanging from his mouth; had been the reason he’d mauled, the reason he’d persecuted and delighted in damnation again. But, if he’d been more vigilant, if he’d been more meticulous, the whole ferocious tale might’ve been avoided. He narrowed his stare for a moment, layered it upon the scourge, and watched as he dropped herbs at his feet. The Lord, too much of a warrior and never meant for healing, hadn’t the first clue what to do with the plants – they’d likely wither and decay before he even had a chance to touch them, but he acknowledged the sacrifice with a feral nod, a devil’s distorted immersion. In ample accord, he gingerly lowered his mouth to the ground and laid the enchanted hide at Mortuus Nox’s hooves, glancing at it briefly, before reclaiming his prior position (trying not to wince as he did so). “Yours?” A restless, wicked thought beat at his skull, and he frowned briefly, chiding himself for his failures, for his defects, for the absconding that could’ve been avoided altogether. “My apologies for not protecting you properly.” He hadn’t done enough, and someone else had paid the price. The mere thought caused his jaw to unclench, his aching muscles to pulse a maddening, haunting outcry of havoc; let slip the dogs of war. But a flicker of blue caught his eye, and for a second, he hoped, but she came adorned on seashells, on sand and dunes, and he knew it wasn’t Huyana. A strange, strangled sigh nettled past his lips before he could stop it, and he pretended as it if it hadn’t existed, continuing in his speech as Tiamat approached, “Be wary of the thief, Gull. He is a black and white Pegasus, and enjoys using a dagger…” The winter King then trailed off as the blue femme applied her greetings and her gifts – and lord, he couldn’t understand the weight, the length, the granules of compassion, because he was monstrous and strung by mayhem, because he hadn’t done enough and there was so much still to happen, so much more devastation to bestow, because he had spent his whole life poised for domination and cold, unholy clarity, barbs, knives, being renounced, being forsaken. That another would even bother to apply their mending ministrations to him at all caused his eyes to widen, his features to dissolve into silent contemplation. He didn’t deserve her gentle, singsong strokes, her rectitude, her honor, her concern, or either of their absolutions, sanctity, and refuge. “Thank you,” was all he could proffer beyond his stunned sights, eyeing the chamomile suspiciously, as if it were a drug meant to rob him of his sanity.