"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.
He half-expected her to run, as most often did. They made their excuses, and parted ways with his daunting shadows, with his harsh gaze, with his callous disregard, with his inability to take part in meaningless discourse. Eventually, they drifted away too, disappearing in more than just spirit, but in body, steered away from the ice and ravines, and he wondered where he’d failed them. Was it because they thought he didn’t care? That he didn’t see them for what they were? Or did his silence, his power, not speak volumes to them: how he made the earth move for their desires, for their might, their distinction, how he’d fought and burned and tore apart cretins and monsters to save them? His most earnest, heart-felt proclamations had always been the quietest: when he extended his blackened, bruised, nefarious, ugly heart to Huyana, when he chased after his children, when he stood at the top of the mountains and breathed in the chilling air, promised to the wind, to the summits, to the peaks and valleys to guard its ancient soil until he was nothing but bare bones and idle memories. The Reaper didn’t anticipate her moving closer (because few had ever wanted to, much less actually maneuver their frame towards his), and he watched, beneath his feral brow, along his heartless gaze, pondering if he should be the one to flee instead. Maybe she judged more harshly than the rest of them, as sometimes gentle souls harbored a lot more than virtue, and she was ready to strike the final blow, send him down into the eldritch reaches of hell, where he belonged, destined to pillage and blunder his way through the afterlife.
His brow arched again as she smiled.
Had the King done something right and decent? He hadn’t erred? The beast had half a notion to look around, below him, to see if the ground fizzled, crackled, opening up to swallow him whole; because it almost felt like she’d accepted him for his honesty, for the brutal munitions layered and lacquered to his form. Perhaps she was relieved that he was weak and she was strong, that he could fumble and stumble, that he could be stripped away just as easily as the rest of them; but she seemed relaxed, poised, calm, and composed. The length of his winter stature remained frozen, confused, perplexed, incapable of solving the riddle laid out for him, unwilling to ask if he’d become less in her eyes or better (for he always wanted to be more for them, but didn’t know how to say it, how to state it, how to do anything act and defy). So, he stayed in the same position, marked and scorched to the realm, a piece of ruin the Devil liked to leave behind and watch, waiting for Zyanya to offer her talents.
Deimos almost laughed – cracked a bare, minimal smile – when she began to coil them into the air. I am always kind; and he wasn’t. Some days he spent seeking out moments to bludgeon the world, unravel it into bits and pieces of chaos to satisfy his ravenous mind, his ruthless denizens. And always honest; perhaps an absolution he could contort, but only when his Machiavellian pursuits deemed it appropriate and necessary. The demonic infidel nodded though, out of respect for her truths, for her abilities, which few seemed to share. “There are many who have need of such qualities.” He tried to figure out where and how all of these attributes would fit into the Basin, why her compassion would seek out such a perilous kingdom, but he was distracted, fettered back into haunting, poignant thoughts, when she mentioned singing of a realm now lost.
He wished someone knew how to sing of Isilme, the unwavering waves, the long, winding beaches of sand and sun, the blinding hate, the avaricious pull from one species to the next. He wished someone else knew of his family (beyond the stories and myths he’d already passed down), like his father, the bright, burning Ignatius, and his mother, the brave, hardened Stone, his sister and his brothers, combing the dunes for their own chance at glory. The monster thought about asking her how many sovereigns she’d seen destroyed, if she’d passed through one riddled with shadow, if she’d seen a blue femme swimming through the ocean or a girl with flowers pressed into her hair; but it all seemed too much to bear across his tongue. He fumbled with more queries pressed to his mouth instead, until his stare focused on hers and curiosity tumbled through his lips. “Was it your home?”