"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.
The Foothills were beautiful, there was no doubt about that, but it was not home. Home was in Isilme in the Woodlands that had sheltered her for many months. Blinded her from the sight of war as the equines and unicorns fought over the Tides, and blinded her from the sight of the original's foals as they destroyed everything. Home was where the Tome Guardian was, sitting in his castle as he waited for the next greedy mortal to come demanding magic of him. She missed the old ghost, as strange as it might seem to any who had visited him seeking magic. She had never gone to him wanting anything. She had only visited to meet him and once again to bring him a gift of apples since he seemed so bound to the ruins he'd lived in. He'd given her a gift, then. The gift of tree bending. A gift she'd lost in her mad dash from Isilme.
Standing in the shadows of the trees in the deep woods, Evangeline felt the most at home. It was not the same as the Woodlands. There was no giant hollowed out tree to sleep in and call home, but it was close enough. Tallis seemed to share her sentiment as he flew carefully between the trees, chirruping sadly. If she were home she'd probably be making this walk with Roanne, discussing strategy and diplomacy. The two of them had differed in every way possible. He had angered her terribly close to the end, but she still loved him dearly. She still missed him. It was disheartening, not seeing him in Helovia.
The copper mare sighed and looked up at Tallis as he curved around a tree and flew back to her. He landed on her back carefully, only gripping her hide with his claws for a few seconds. "I miss home, Tallis." She told the dragon. "Home." He echoed her sadly.
07-26-2012, 10:10 PM (This post was last modified: 08-01-2012, 09:27 PM by Knox.)
Young colt isn't so defective anymore- isn't so little, either. He gallops atop strong pillars and cuts the Deep Woods' breezes with a thickly built form. His father's bridle hangs more tightly upon his features; even feels tight in a few places. Beside him runs a fully healed pup by the name of Manhattan, her tail whipping behind her madly, her lips parted to expose a dark pink tongue and create the expression of a grin. For the first time in either of their lives, they feel joy. They chase each other through the place he was born and the place he considers his home. They play games of fetch with every loose stick that graces the forest floor, they run through patches of leaves dried by the Tallsun heat and stir up the creatures of the forest with their racket. They call out into the open air with reckless abandon, filling the woods with wild echoes of traded barks and whinnies. They leave pawprints and hoof marks in the soft forest floor, they leave a clear path behind them, and have no care in the world.
After his second visit to the corpse of his father, the bridle had choked him and flooded him with memories of the Sentinel's life. The Deep Woods had ever since reminded him of the great Woodlands and those his father had loved and protected there. He had longed ever since that day to meet some of those his father had watched over; to hear the sweet words of Evangeline and experience himself the seductive nature of Giselle. And he longs, too, to see the land his father had left behind.
He now experiences life in a different manner. He knows no wicked whispers in his mind, breathes the forest air as if it is a tonic that brings him life, and runs with Manhattan and knows that what he feels for her is that strange emotion described to him by the deformity in that frozen cave- love. He feels it strike his heart each time he gazes upon his companion.
And then, once more, at the sight of the chestnut mare and her all too familiar dragon.
He considers the experience he has had to be unusual, but despite the drastic change it has stirred within him, he manages to lack all social cues. He wishes to call out, but should he really say her name? How strange it would be to her to see a colt like himself for the first time and hear him speak her name. No, better to say something formal. Like Miss. Or perhaps M'am? He wasn't sure which was the most polite of the two.
Miss, he decided as he strode forward at a slow trot. "Hello there Mi-" he began, until realizing that, no, perhaps m'am was the correct greeting, and continuing to form a broken word of seemingly his own invention. "-m. Have we met before? You and Tallis seem... familiar."
He speaks the orange's name without realizing, thus ruining his attempt to enter subtly. His head cocks to the side with a childish curiosity, and by his hooves Manhattan settles into the ground and presses herself against him for support as she pants wildly.
07-29-2012, 06:43 AM (This post was last modified: 07-29-2012, 06:46 AM by ali.)
Evangeline swung her head around as Tallis alerted her to his and his companion's arrival. Green eyes landed upon a familiar looking colt and his companion, though what caught her attention the most was the bridle that hung over his face. There had been only one other that she had seen wear something like that. "Roanne.." No, this colt was much too young to be Roanne. There had been a little surge of hope, but it was dashed away by the realization that he wasn't the stallion she'd hoped to find roaming the woods. Maybe she just needed to give up looking for him just as she had given up looking for Ruske and Ciryas.
They were all gone.
"Hello." She replied, her stomach knotting at the usage of 'Mim' by the young colt. That was Roanne's word. Sadness washed over her, but she forced it aside and put a smile on her face. "Mim." She repeated him. More than anything that word stuck out to her. Even more so than Tallis' name, which she quickly dismissed because she had called him by his name only moments before. "It's been a long time since I've heard anyone say mim."
A moment later Eva shook her head. "No, I don't believe we've met before but you seem famiiar to me, too." She held her ground as she looked the colt over, thinking more and more to herself that he looked like Roanne. Could they be brothers? It would explain the bridle, wouldn't it? "Where did you get that bridle from?"
Young colt isn't surprised when she finds him familiar- he has been told he looks much like his father. He wonders some days if he acts like him as well- perhaps this mare can tell him that. She seems to know much of his father, seems to feel much for him as well. He sees pain flit across her gaze and wonders what pain of emotion feels like himself; had his father ever felt it? Surely he must have, any with a life as troubled as Roanne's was certain to have known loss and pain.
His mind refocuses as she mentions the bridle, and he tosses his head to show off the white leather straps that bind across his features and adorn him with splendor. "It belonged to my father, and his brother before him," Knox replied, his lips curling up as he saw the faint recognition appear in the mare before him. Perhaps merely the mention of the bridle would spark the memory of Roanne for her- but, maybe, just to be certain... no, he would say more. "I am Knox, born of the late Sentinel and Mandrake," he says with a nod of affirmation as he assures himself that he speaks correctly. At his hooves, Manhattan presses her head against his hocks and whines softly, looking up at him with the wide blue eyes of a child and the convincing, undeniable look that all puppies seem to possess. "And this is Manhattan," he adds with a light whinny and a grin, reaching down to softly nuzzle his companion near the occiput. In turn she turns her head up to greet his nose with her own, and a long, quick pink tongue slides out from between her jaws and swipes across his nose.
Quickly then, he turns his gaze back to the Pure and gives her an expectant look as he waits for her reaction and subsequent introduction. He casts Tallis a brief, friendly look, as if the two have already met and are on quite good terms. Between the two is a general air of pleasantry and familiarity; Knox basks in the unfamiliar and new emotion.
"I am Knox, born of the late Sentinel and Mandrake."
"The... the late Sentinel?" She felt sick to the very pit of her stomach. Her heart felt like it had leapt from her chest and left a gaping hole. She shook her head and Tallis seemed to wilt under the news. She could hope that the Sentinel that the child spoke of was not the Sentinel she had ruled the Woodlands with, but that would be foolish. As a young filly she had come to the conclusion that hope was a foolish thing to have. Roanne and Validino and even Ruske had slowly taught her that maybe hope wasn't such a bad thing, but now it was blowing up in all of their faces. Everything was suddenly so very wrong.
The copper mare forced herself to regain her composure and settled her emerald gaze on the Sentinel's son. "I am Evangeline the Pure. I ruled the Mystic Woodlands of Isilme with your father." It seemed like it was forever ago that she'd found him wandering around in the Gateway. He'd risen so fast and had come so far. His was a friendship she had truly valued even when she thought him stupid for being blinded by lust and trying to change a mare who was racist to her very core.
"It.." Evangeline paused and cleared her throat before speaking again. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Knox. And Manhattan." She said to the retriever at his side. She became quiet then, having nothing more to say and wanting nothing more than to disappear into the woods to mourn the death of one of her closest friends.
08-15-2012, 12:17 AM (This post was last modified: 08-15-2012, 12:18 AM by Knox.)
Young colt speaks of his father and sees recognition mixed with despair, perhaps even remorse, flicker in the sweet mare's eyes. He sees their bright green and senses a sadness stirring within is own breast as he feels a strong emotion towards her that he senses is not his own. Mother would scorn him for expressing sympathy in any form, for practicing acts other than the hunt and for exercising emotion other than hate. Lately he has felt himself less connected to mother, however.
Manhattan has helped significantly. The retriever who rests steadily at his side is a constant that there is love in this world, and that he is at last experiencing, and perhaps understanding it. She leans agains him now, her paws planted firmly in the soil but her mind floating far above them as she contemplates her short life and the happiness that she feels when she looks into the eyes of her master. She feels what he starts to feel now as he looks over Evangeline. She speaks and tells him what he already knows. He knows more of the detail than she seems willing to offer, but he pays it no mind.
Instead he takes a gentle step forward with one hoof only, so as not to disturb his companion, and nods with a warm smile across his velvet lips. "And you as well, Evangeline, despite the fact that it feels as if I have known you for so long," he comments sagely, letting his blue-gray gaze rise to match up with hers. Curiosity climbs into the conversation and his ears perk forward as it occurs to him that of all those he has known, Evangeline is perhaps the best suited to tell him of his father and even perhaps stick by his side. "I am sorry to bring you such bad news," the colt speaks with condolence, realizing the courtesy that he has failed to acknowledge, like most other appropriate social cues. "He was special to you? He asks with wonder and respect in his eyes. He knows how much Evangeline had meant to his father, he wonders if she had felt the same.