"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.
12-09-2013, 11:20 PM (This post was last modified: 12-19-2013, 11:31 PM by Circuta.)
Time and time again, the Temptress is drawn forth to the beckoning of the perpetual ocean, the touch of the waves and the brine as it lashes against the sinew of the long, akin to a deer, pillars, the kiss of the wind and the song in which it sings. Time and time again, the Temptress is drawn forth to the sunset on the waves, and time and time again,
she stays to see it rise, sleepless and dreamless amidst the lash of the waves.
If one would pay attention to the knees of her pillars, it would become ever so clear that they have grown raw and angered with the touch of the salty waves, a sickening habit in which the Temptress is unable to pause, to cease, addicted to the way the wave's sing and the way they attempt to draw her forth into the unknown, and one day, one day she may go with them, follow them out until she can no longer swim, and allow the nymph's to drag her underneath the surface, the sirens to laugh and giggle and allow her to see that which none has seen before.
And one day, the Temptress may go so far out into the sea, that she can no longer return, one day, she may never be seen again, caressed by the somber depths of the grasp of the ocean.
She has no clear reason, no undeniable truth that she can place forth to state why she cannot refuse the call of the tides, she has no reason for why she must come to them when the wind screams within her harks and she follows it's cries to this place, she is logical and reasonable by nature and this does not make sense to her.
It perplexes her, unsettles and embarrasses her (but she does not feel embarrassment, does she? a entirely mortal reaction), and yet is is here that she finds peace, a lull in the mind of the insane.
And so she goes forth, across grains of the tiniest sands, until dainty hooves meet the froth of the sea and it gathers up around her apparel and soaks her to the core as she goes further, and further, until it is up to her bosom, deeper then she has gone before.
Goosebumps grow across charcoal sinew as the glacial chill of the sea leaves her skin feeling raw and burning, and the only sound is the noise of seagulls and the lap of the waves, the wind in her harks and the only two feelings are the bitter chill and the pervading warmth of the rising sun.
The chatters of her mind fade into quietude.
And she is gone to the world, if for a minuscule amount of time.
Time never waits. Not for a God, not for a mortal.
All one can do is accept it: All will fade away in time. Memories. Bruises.
Those whom you love.
It leaves behind it nothing.
Except you. It often leaves you, and takes with it another.
And then all you can do is scream.
@[Aurelia]
Circuta</style> who's the killer in the crowd -</style>
I walk slowly and effortlessly. I am here, again. I've seen this damn ocean tooooo many times. Okay, yes, I should just be enjoying it here, but I'm not. I don't like water, I'm tired, and I'm also hungry. Maybe my unusually thin body would be an obvious sign pointing to hunger, but then again-- I've run into many stupid horses. Being an outcast is much harder than it looks. The hardest part for me, is definently finding a good amount of food when traveling. The easiest part is meeting many new horses. I like being a free mare, but it's definently a challenge. Every time I feel unsafe, I come here. Unusually, today I do not feel unsafe. All I am doing is trying to locate Africa. Maybe I want to patch things up with her, but I know this will be hard. She seems so strange to me now. I blame puberty for our ended friendship. I can't find her, so I just wander the shores of Endless Blue.
I am clean (for once). I rolled in the shallowest parts of water. The cool water dripping down my body felt amazing, and I was happy I had decided to man up. This was a big step for me, considering I'm hydrophobic. Well, maybe now I'm only part hydrophobic... Is that a thing?
I glide to a halt. Infront of me are rocks. They are slippery from being smoothed and wet from the ocean's waves. Despite the natural beauty radiating off of them, I turn away from them. I didn't want to hike over those to run into an unfortunate accident. I allow my pace to quicken into a trot. My steps are long and graceful. Banners flow behind me like a cloud of fog or mist. I can feel a small amulet bouncing around my chest. I found the amulet under some leaves and molch in the Deep Forest. It was dirty and golden. I kept it because it reminded me of myself. Now it shine beautifully and reflects the light so amazingly. I'm very fond of this little necklace.
Enough about the amulet. Now comes the interesting part. Ahead of me, I see the figure of a unicorn. I know she is a mare, but everything else remains a mystery. Once I'm closer to her, I let out a joyful nicker,
Hoping to catch her attention. Now that I am close to her, I take in her coloring and other features. The thing I noticed first is her obsidian horn. Pristine and perfect, I look at it for a long while. I did not say anything, as I took her other features in.
Walking Thinking
"Talking"
ooc:; SO SORRY! I had read this than forgot about it until you tagged me!
You can punch me in the cbox next time we see each other!
12-24-2013, 02:10 AM (This post was last modified: 12-25-2013, 09:20 PM by Circuta.)
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Quietude and hush is shattered upon the back's of traitorous waves, villainous cries and glitter glue children. From the grains comes forth ivory and a Borealis of aureate to match. Appendages sprout from otherwise unmarred flesh, naive, gullible, and the woman feels her spine stiffen with realization of whom has waltzed through the sweet layers of meditation and awoken her to the realities of life once more. Quisling.
Rivulets of water slide down her hide as she moves with the force of the waves, forth to the tanned grains that form the coastline, pebbles and shells of long-forgotten centuries, there is iron in her lungs and a iron taste in her mouth, the waves have turned to tides of red wine and blood sloshes against the star-kissed woman's hooves, it pours down her throat and into her stomach, and she hungers and craves and a wild thirst has grown within the very pit of the poisonous apple that makes her frame and carries her weight towards the criminal, the terrorist, the thief, the sprinkle-dusted child that has dared touch the garment of the vermilion Queen. It is all in her mind, the outer skin that surrounds her placated with a soft smile, gentle, sweet, harks perked and indigo gleaming with benevolence. A tune floats forth from her maw, cheerful, as she closes the distance between them, damp frame churning the grains of sand beneath her hooves into obscure mud. Do not wail; and do not weep.
Would the pretty girl's dome look good, bobbing along the endless waves, rolled up white's and a cloud of pink mixing with the icy kiss of the blue?
It is then that the Nightingale catches sight of the aurulent amulet that curls around the girl's neck, beckoning, calling, catching the light of the Sun with a fascination that the woman cannot explain, cannot deem normal, and this is the final straw to her desires, the object in which the God of the Sun has demanded her to gather,
She can hear his taunts in her harks, his voice in mockery of her words and she will prove him otherwise. She is no dim-witted woman, no damsel in distress, and she wants to cry out and what do you think of me now, o'Lord of the Sun?
She craves to laugh, to guffaw at the imbecile whom has come forth beneath teeth readied to rip and tear and a dagger ready to plunge into the heart of the girl whom has yet to learn the folly of strangers around her. Don't be so arrogant, little girl, she wishes to caw. This is what happens to fools whom oppose my blood. She speaks as she comes to a pause, elegant strides faltering to that of a still, a lull, breath forming steam upon icy air and lyrics oozing honey as the comb of a bee's nest. Bee's sting as well, dear. Watch yourself. "Salutations, my dear!" A gentle sweep of the dome down, and—"I am Circuta. It is a pleasure." The Nightingale raises her dome once more. It's time for you to go to sleep.
Violent, warm pearls, swirling, dancing as that of the waves rest upon alabaster and sunflower orbs, dancing downward upon the amulet upon her bosom. With stride, bouncing, twirling, the woman circles the girl with a Cheshire grin planted on pallid lips, song as sweet as sugar. "And if I may ask, my child, without meaning to pry, where did you get that—"
The Nightingale has come to the girl's left, breath fanning against ivory and aureate flesh, the scent flowing forth reminiscent to that of wildflowers. "..Bedazzling amulet upon your neck?"
Little children, you were not clever..
And now you'll stay with me, forever.
Behind Aurelia, her tracks are disappearing as water drown them. She hears the blue waves crashing into white foam, smoothing the horseshoe hoof prints from Aurelia's (dainty) hooves. The air is crisp now. A subtle breeze flutters pas the two mares conversing. The dark mare is much friendlier than anticipated. "Salutations, my dear! I am Circuta. It is a pleasure." Aurelia wonders if this mare is just putting up a facade, expecting it to work. I nod my head once, acknowledging her and her greeting. She smells familiar, she does.
Where from, though? She almost smells like Agrona, but Circuta seems to nice to have gotten tangled up with Agrona. Maybe this mare is from the Asylum? That'd be awful sad. Especially considering the large brute that took temporary lead attempted to take Aurelia's ear. Does he attack every blind horse he comes across, because damn, he must rip off a lot of ears.
"And if I may ask, my child, without meaning to pry, where did you get that—" The temptress starts speaking, and she listens like a dog listens for a commend. "..Bedazzling amulet upon your neck?" Aurelia cocks an eyebrow at the mare. Does she want to steal it from me? The amulet Aurelia found, glistens brighter than any diamond. The jewel is beautiful itself, but to add to the effect, there is silver encasing the jewel like an O. The jewel in the center of the O. "Why do you smell familiar, Circuta?" Her tone is interrogating, but it needs to be for now.
Later they can tell each other stories and paint their hooves.