"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 evening is cool and quiet, and the little slave girls walks on. She isn't entirely sure where she is going, but Mistress had been very clear about her current role. She is afraid, because she is no social butterfly and she does not think that she has the skills to accomplish that which her Mistress has sent her to do. But she is determined to try. After all, how else is she supposed to repay her guardian angel than to be the perfect servant? And Zuriel is, no doubt, her guardian angel. Everything about her exudes perfection and protection. Even though her departure had filled the little slave girl with anxiety, the buckskin had turned and begun to trek towards her next destination, just as she had been told.
The golden bangle taps against her foreleg with every step; her eyes are trained carefully on the ground before her. Auds are flicked back, though they twitch to the side every now and again, as though to insist to any that find her that she is, in fact, relaxed, though that could not be further from the truth. Her hooves hit the ground one at a time, the soft clip-clop of her hooves deadened by the grass. She is alone, and it is terrifying, but at least this time it is for a good cause and not because her master had either died or gotten sick of her. Or at least she hopes that is not the case. Clip, clop, clip, clop. One foot in front of the other. Sooner or later, she had to come across civilization again. Right?
You've left the forest that had been your sanctuary behind and in it you left the mare that you desecrated. Her blood still coats your horn and you can smell it. It makes your mouth water and the urge to maim makes your body tremble with anticipation. You know you must find someone who has not yet been tainted by the darkness that has tainted you. You must find someone and you must spread it. But who? The outside world has been quiet lately and this makes half of your face frown. Where could everyone have disappeared to, you wonder, but it is then that you smell her and she is ripe for the picking.
She seems preoccupied and you begin to walk toward her, on a somewhat parallel course, but ever so slightly you keep shifting so that eventually you will intercept her. All the while you keep your undamaged side facing toward her. The tall grass keeps your bony legs hidden, but there is still the stench that permeates the air around you. There is little you can do about that because the infection has spread. What had been cuts on your neck are now gaping holes of decaying flesh and muscle. If you look closely enough you can see white specks that are the vertebrae in your neck.
Each step brings you closer to your target and when you're within hearing range you finally pose a question. "Have you ever heard of the Big Bad Wolf?" You ask, keeping your eye on her and your ear tilted in her direction as you wait for her answer.
She picks her way across the dying field, the orangemoon grasses beginning to crunch beneath her hooves. She had plodded through a river a while back, and it seems that the further she gets from the water, the less luscious the grass becomes. When the second set of hoofbeats picks up, she thinks that she is imagining it, thinks that she is merely afraid of being alone and her fear is getting the better of her. Her eyes remain trained carefully on the ground as she forces herself not to speed her walking. It's her imagination, that's all - there's nothing out here to harm her. Mistress wouldn't send her off to get hurt, now, would she?
But the hoofbeats don't subside, and her auds pick up the crunch of the grass that doesn't quite line up with her own steps, and she frowns slightly at the interruption, still refusing to lift her gaze. But then, she remembers that Mistress had ordered her to talk to others, and so she forces herself to raise her eyes and glance over her shoulder. The mare looks fairly normal, but there is something off about her approach, about the sly look in her eye. The little slave girl shivers, but allows the newcomer to get closer. It is about the time that she speaks that the buckskin catches a hint of the stench accompanying the mare, and she crinkles her nose as she looks away. "This one wonders what a big, bad wolf has to do with anything," she offers, thinking that she ought to just give the mare what she wants and then continue on her merry way. She doubts that the crazies will be of interest to her Mistress.
Her pace increases slightly, fear and adrenaline flooding her system. Something is not right here, but she can't figure out what is wrong.
You laugh when she asks what relevance the big bad wolf has. If only she knew that she was the Little Red Riding Hood to your Big Bad Wolf. But the story would end differently this time. You would not be the one to die at the hand of a man wielding an axe. Evil could not be snuffed out so easily as it was in the fairytales that your mother told you when you were young. No. It spread and infected and lay waste to anything that stood in its way to try and stop it. It shaped and molded those that bent to it. Evil made you what you are, a harbinger of destruction and pain.
Your pace quickens and you cross the mare's path, then you circle around with your destroyed side facing her. You wonder what she'll do when she sees it, but the mare has seemed preoccupied with looking at the ground instead of at you. So you position yourself in her path and stand facing her, peering at her from behind your white forelock. Your tail flicks and you snort, the portion of your face that remains curling into a grin to match the skull on the other side. "I'll let you figure that out." You finally reply as you begin to move slowly in her direction. Will she run, you wonder, or will she freeze and make this easy and disappointing for you. The other mare had run, but she had still been a disappointment, so easily felled by your magic.
You cough, spittle flying toward the buckskin, but even if she got infected with that little bit of effort you wouldn't stop. Blood had to be spilled first.
The little slave girl takes in the mare's uninjured side. Dark, with a light banner. A red-tipped horn. She cannot tell if the crimson is a naturally occurring colour, or if the appendage has been recently dipped in blood. The thought makes her shiver, and her pace quickens into a trot. The mare keeps pace, though, and laughs in a way that makes her shiver. She swallows, hard, and tries a new tactic: ignorance. This works, for a moment, but then the mare swings out in front of her. The buckskin is not prepared for what she sees, her eyes brought up in surprise, to make sure she doesn't run into the crazy unicorn. The flesh is rotting, bones showing through oozing, bloody wounds. The girl's hooves halt of their own accord as a little shriek leaves her maw. She is immediately embarrassed, for etiquette says that she ought be seen and not heard, and she has never let such a sound slip before, no matter how harrowing the sight. Of course, she is usually protected by her master, and she has never seen the living dead, so I suppose she has a pretty good excuse.
She takes a step backward and then another, hooves scrambling away from the terrifying sight before her. Mistress had not warned her about this, had not told her that such creatures existed, and no matter how strong the urge to carry out her task was, she had not been told to get herself killed. She has half a mind to run screaming and quaking back to the seraphim, to beg her for mercy, for protection, but the logical part of her mind tells her that she doesn't even know where to run to. She shakes her head, wanting badly to scream but resisting because that's what good slaves do. The rotting mare is facing her now, and there is something predatory in her grin. The little slave girl cannot stand it anymore. She gives up on trying to be polite and instead turns, hindquarters bunching beneath her and pushing her into a headlong run in the opposite direction. If she were the praying kind, she would ask for help from long-lost deities, but slaves were not heard by the gods. At least, that was what she had been told. There is no one to help her, no one to hear her screams, even if she were to open her mouth and let one slip.