"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.
Within the south west shadows were brewing. Evil was being born, and who knew what it would unleash upon the land. Could it possibly bring back the endless night that had fallen upon Helovia all those months ago? Déodat was taking no chances and wasting no time. The soldier charged on toward the home of the Basin. Exhaustion was beginning to set in, and the stallion could feel his muscles simply pleading for him to cease his exertion. Later he would most definitely pay for how recklessly he had pushed his body. A good rest very well could fix it, or so he hoped.
For a brief while he permitted himself a rest once he reached the frozen arch. His breaths came in ragged and tired. There was a small pool which he took advantage of. After quenching his thirst, he pushed onward, but he allowed himself to walk for a good distance until his breaths came in at a normal rate. Then the soldier knew it was time to run again. As he began to canter, his muscles screamed once more, begging for relief. Pain wouldn’t stop him of course. On the battlefield he had endured so much worse. Sore muscles were nothing and wouldn’t cause any permanent damage. At least, he thought wouldn’t.
Déjà vu washed over him as he neared the Basin. Not too long ago he came wandering in from his long absence, and here he was running back to its icy grip. This time he was a messenger. He was perhaps a harbinger for something dark that awaited their demise. Hopefully he didn’t have to search for someone to convey the news to. Whether or not he passed it to the leader’s ears he cared not, though someone would face the fire of his temper should they try to stake claim to his discovery. Maybe telling such news to the ears of the leaders himself would be for the best.
The Basin was getting closer and closer, and as he might’ve wanted to take a leisurely pace, he only pushed himself harder. The only sound he could hear was the noise of his hooves moving through the snow, and his heavy breathing. Such an arrival may have made the others think something far more imminent loomed over them, but he knew little as to what was happening within that darkness that was consuming that god forsaken marsh.
As he stepped into the Basin, he skidded to a halt and took in desperate breaths. Déodat could feel his muscles twitching slightly and they would soon cramp up. When he finally caught his breath he looked around, seeking some sign of others, preferably the lord or lady. Silence wouldn’t do anyone any good.
“Lady Illynx or Lord Deimos,” The Blood Prince felt like a fool for calling out into the cold. He was still breathing heavily so his voice didn’t project as well as it could’ve. After the words came from his mouth, he allowed his head to hang a bit and he finally managed to catch his breath. Now all he could do was wait for one of his superiors to arrive.
"talk talk talk"
[Anyone is welcome to join! Déo is just reporting of the plague in the marsh]
Information was something he seized, devoured, swallowed, held taut in his pariah grip, examined, scrutinized, and methodically claimed with Machiavellian diligence. Each morsel could be another calculating measure for the future, constructing Lucifer threads and Tartarean upheaval, employing their mordant methods for cruel, vile ventures. Beyond the Basin, augured shadows, portended veils, and nocturnal shades of grave sedition, crawled, slunk, and slithered, serpentine blood and ichor of sinuous decadence amongst the finite coils of ruses, schemes and immoral fixations. If his necromancy, the pernicious, powerful prowess, could not invoke, spark, ignite and incite entropy, then the spinning wiles of his webbed machinations, snares, or pitfalls would provide bedlam, upheaval, and insurrection. The call for his presence, filtering and flickering over the runes of the Aurora, sought and diverted his attention for a brief interval, but only so that the cold, chilling cranium fixated upon the bellow, what it meant, what it carried. Motions and movements were a pariah’s blend of treachery and distinction, a coveter of darkness, a licentious opus caught and carved from the ferocious hide of Mephistopheles’ grin. As his strides swept beneath pine and fir, as his cretin form extended along rime and frost, he mulled, ruminated, processed. Was another threat growing, burdening, voraciously clawing, along the horizon? Had a scout sensed more intruders, and needed assistance in banishing them down cliff tops and ruins, mauling, maiming, destroying, eradicating? Did a final slaughter need to erupt over the frozen hills to deliver their fervent message of extermination? Upon his arrival, however, he found none of these; a lone warrior upon the fringe, pausing to catch his breath as it parted ways from his frame. He didn’t recognize the painted figure, though he may have held familiar aspects or family resemblances of someone within their icy hold, and came to stand in front of the beast, the impassive sovereign all over again. The Reaper offered a brief nod, a reward of respect for what appeared to be a great trial, a heathenous effort, until the succinct, brief, rough candor of his vocals pervaded into the surroundings. “Report, soldier.” What had made the beast cross over into their threshold to such a vehement degree? What scorched and maimed beyond their walls? How could they deceive it, persuade it, use it for their own means – or destroy it?
DEIMOS
delivered from the blast last from a line of lasts
and now the kingdom comes crashing down undone
background pattern by webtreatsetc.deviantart.com image credits
The voice that called out her name across the gently drifting snow was familiar, drawing to mind a pale blue place which had rain dousing the world outside, a handsome face and a keen intellect. She had not seen him since then, her first truly thrilling male encounter; Deodat. He had been charming and excellently formed, a soldier of the same army that she was destined to lead.
Where had he been?
Slipping away from her hidden position in the tree line where she had been observing the goings on and pondering the words of the Moon, the golden Lady held her crown proudly and moved with a graceful and long legged trot towards the source of the call. Whatever it was, it didn’t sound like it was good – was an army coming to march on them? Had the Moon spurred her idiots into action?
She finds him alone, but for Deimos, and there is little panic in the air aside from the fact that it seems both men have rushed into this meeting as well. Giving no thoughts to the dark beast who loitered alongside her as she came to a halt, she looks to Deodat with a gleaming smile and bright eyes, happy to see that he is well.
The smile faltered as she notes the glistening of his sides and the heavy dragging of his breath, a sure sign of having run a long distance in a short time. Ears falling back a slight degree, she mirrors the words of Deimos in a less rigid fashion. "Deodat! What devil is chasing you?" her voice is calm but belied by the dark glimmer that shines in her eyes, the creases of worry that form around their golden expanse and about the tender curvature of her lips
As the form of the lord came into view, the Blood Prince lifted up his head and looked at his superior. Only two simple words were given report soldier. There was a satisfaction inside of him that he himself would be relaying the information to the ears of the Basin’s king himself. Yet before words could escape, he saw another figure arrive. One draped in gold and brown. Illynx. It had been quite some time since he had seen the mare, and it was good to see her once again. Painted upon her face was a smile, it didn’t take long for it to shift as she must’ve realized he had come with a sense of urgency. Just like Deimos, she sought information yet her words weren’t as commanding or harsh, not that the way the lord had addressed him bother Déodat.
“There is nothing chasing me… I think,” The Blood Prince hadn’t realized how unsure he sounded. The shadow very well could be trailing behind him, wanting to devour and taunt the crowned of the Basin. “I was in the marsh. There was something evil brewing there. When I was briefly there a skyrat noticed it to, and they fled before I did, initially thought it was cowardice…” He paused a he tried to collect his thoughts and piece together exactly what he had seen down in that vile place. “Then I saw what made it run. Shadows were dancing just out of my vision, but when I turned they were gone, and it was like the marsh was laughing. I would think it all in my head until I saw the darkness rolling at my feet. The very aura it gave off of reeked of death.” He stopped and allowed the lord and lady to take in the words he had just spewed out. “I don’t know what made or caused it, where it came from, I am confident in the fact that it is malicious, hence my urgent arrival” Maybe the exhaustion was getting to his head. Why did he speak about the darkness as if it was alive?
The Blood Prince would never admit what had caused him to move with such urgency. Maybe he himself didn’t quite understand why he had exerted himself to the very point of exhaustion. He didn’t want to return and find whatever was within that marsh had moved faster than he thought, and come to see everyone gone. Every part of his body would pay for his reckless running. Within the back of his mind he believed it be worth it, because he had beaten that supernatural whatever to his home. At least they were informed, so at the very least they could be cautious and keep an eye upon that filthy marsh. Hopefully the lord and lady would believe the words that came from his mouth.
12-26-2013, 08:49 AM (This post was last modified: 12-26-2013, 09:12 AM by Deimos.)
Illynx’s appearance was dutifully ignored, the Reaper’s full attention fixated upon the soldier’s, Deodat, claim, absorbing the information, attempting to piece together the puzzle, the shadows, the drawn evils bubbling and brewing amongst the familiar marsh. The bog was an eerie, chaotic, frenetic chasm all on its own, an intoxicating, venomous atmosphere that leant naught but the echoes of outcries and doldrums, haunting junctures and perilous runes; he’d ventured there often, immersed himself in the brew of satanic, irreverent reverie. But now, something else was building, assembling, whittling from the menacing waves of the entangled morass, and they were without the notion of how to combat it. How does one conquer something crafted from shadows, incorporeal, intangible, unattainable, rasping from Lucifer iniquities – not the same as he, for at least the Lord was molded and founded in flesh, in blood, in ichor pulsing, beating nefarious raptures amongst his blackened, chilling heart. Reeked of death, condemned to quietus, to the poignant catacombs and minatory sepulchers; his thoughts conformed to the meticulous machinations of how to ruin the heathen whims fermenting across the land, or implement its prowess and dominion for their own use and means. The notion that the painted warrior could have been followed caused his sinister stare to gaze along the borders, chisel across the horizon, but naught flickered, blended into nocturnal veils or bewitched, beguiled, traced its daunting heresy along their frosty decadence. Stoic features rendered back into impassive, apathetic decree, not betraying the inner turmoil and turbulence flooding his Machiavellian mind, the piercing slate of his narrowed eyes shifted back to Deodat, jaws slipping apart once more to extend his gratitude, respect. “Thank you for your efforts.” A query slid through the cracks of his stone lips, attempting to gesture the meaning, the force, the reason, behind the strange, foreign, archaic intertwining of abhorrence and animosity. “It seemed a manifestation of darkness alone? No one else conjured this scourge?” What if someone had surmised this level of power, rivaling his, gesturing and posturing scythes as perilously as himself, or worse, slashing at far more hides than he ever had? Then he thought of the fringe and verge of their land, of palisades, of defenses necessary to waylaid impending doom and destruction; he'd sow his own, but never upon the Basin itself. This creation of ill will, however, would likely not savor such jurisdictions. "Our borders will need to be fortified."
DEIMOS
delivered from the blast last from a line of lasts
and now the kingdom comes crashing down undone
background pattern by webtreatsetc.deviantart.com image credits
The ominous way he added in the ”I think,” drew her eyes to the entrance of the place, golden orbs prying the horizon for any sign of malcontents arriving to beat on their doorstep, an ear still held tightly on the source of Deodat’s vocals. She quickly returns her gaze, however, when he speaks of being afraid. Raising her crown slightly, her sights narrow at such a notion – the soldier was not the sort to be easily frightened, more likely the one to charge in and kill without a second thought, if their conversations prior could allude to such things.
The description of the thing was definitely magical and haunting. She listens closely for any details that might reveal what it is, digging through her brain for any historical references that might tell of the devil that haunts the Marsh, but there are no such stories that she knows. Her frown is deep and ponderous on her face as she stares blankly at the ending of Deodat’s words, only a nod given in respect for his swift action, golden eyes holding a twinkle of appreciation in the darkness of their worry.
She too ponders if it might be used to their benefit, but does not entertain the idea long; if it is in the Marsh and reeks of death, then it has to do with the dead who lie in it’s murky depths. And the dead, for all intensive purposes, only serve the necromancer who has brought them back into the realm of living.
It makes her skin crawl, just the thought of it.
Helovia had old stories, ancient ones, pertaining to such wicked magicians and their ability to craft mindless slaves from the empty bodies of the deceased, as she was sure any area who held as much magical prominence as Loorien would. It was in mortal nature to be evil and vile in face of the goodness, she and her kin were excellent examples – but they did not raise the dead, they only made them. They did not commit such sins in the face of nature and Gods as to bring back what has been taken by the waters of life.
Deimos mirrors her thoughts aloud, asking if there were any near by who may have created the thing as well as thanking the soldier for his swift action. It does not surprise her that the bringer of death understands what this may be; perhaps he would insult the natural order of life with such perversions if he could, or has encountered the tales of their being also. She does not know, nor does she really care. She has decided that she will worry no more on her fellow leader.
She will simply wait and watch the cards fall into place.
She nods in agreement that fortifications should be put into order, though she and Ulrik have already begun on such things. Her smile is wry and knowing as she looks to the gleaming statue that stands near the gate, the hollow creature that will soon guard them with its false body. ”Deodat, gather the soldiers and let them know they are ordered to keep patrols more tightly in the pass as well as around the gateway into the Basin," she begins, letting her eyes fall back onto the painted stallion and attempting to keep the worry from creeping back onto her face now that the smug little smile is faded from her lips.
"Lord Deimos," the Lady moves slightly to allow herself to look upon the disdainful beast more fully, though her rancor with him does not bleed onto her face – it only adds an icy ring to her normally silken voice, "Ulrik and I have begun work on sentinel statues. I would like your assistance in gathering units to collect metal and gemstones for their completion. I believe we will also need a cave in which to hide the children and those not suited for battle, should this… darkness find us this far north." She pauses, a slight pout added to her lips. "Perhaps we should also set about to trying to discover precisely what it is out there."
Whether or not he’ll help, she does not care. She returns her eyes to the soldier who has brought them the notice of the necromancy in the Marsh, a warm smile finding her face now that she has detailed what she feels necessary to prepare them for the assault of the unknown. "Rest for a while, of course. You have come a long way far too quickly to be expedient in such tasks immediately. I thank you for your swift action; may it provide us enough time to adequately prepare."
The Blood Prince watched both leaders as they contemplated the grim news he brought. Just as Illynx was looking at the entrance, he caught himself every now and then flicking his gaze toward it in hopes that the darkness had remained contained within the wicked marsh. The king offered his thanks, and then proceeded to ask a question. “From what I could see, it had no particular conjurer.” He said, unsure of how exactly to explain precisely what he had seen. For now there was nothing that he could offer, but whatever had possessed the marsh appeared to not want him to know more. Déodat had managed to beat the shadow though, he had warned his herd and they would now be prepared if the evil came up toward the north. The Blood Prince felt far more confident with his place as a soldier despite his second leave.
When the King mentioned fortifying their borders, he nodded in agreement just as the golden mare did so. He would be the first one willing to step out and do whatever it would take for this mountains that had come to feel like home. At the same time, Lord Deimos had earned his respect, just as Illynx had far before she rose up to the title of Lady. Then he noticed the smile upon the mare’s lips. Did she have something up her sleeve? Whatever it was, he didn’t believe he would know as she gave him an order. “Yes milady,” he said with a slight dip of his head.
As the queen addressed the king, the soldier remained where he was, and had every intention of doing so until he had been dismissed by both lord and lady. At the mention of labor, he pinned it in his mind to remember. As the mare describe the statues, he realized what she had been looking at, and most of all what had caused that smile. She did have a trick up her sleeve. This came as no surprise of course, Illynx was a smart mare and he knew he respected he for a reason. Maybe, just maybe, he also regarded her as a good leader but this was only one crisis, so there as all the potential for failure. Of course if they prepared themselves properly they could rise to the occasion and ensure their safety from an oncoming darkness. Déodat hoped his fellow soldiers were ready, because they would all be a busy group, and if they didn’t work their asses off he’d be the first in line to give them a solid ass-whooping. Now wasn’t a time for cowards and weaklings
When the lady mentioned going off seeking out what it was, Déodat strongly disagreed, but for once he held his tongue. He was too exhausted to stand there and bicker. Nonetheless, he would be far from willing to go back to the place should they try and send him. Let the spies do the job he had done for them, and they would soon see what had caused the soldier to run. Illynx then dismissed him, relieving him of his duties for a brief while. “Thanks,” he said, “Once I’m well rested I’ll rally the soldiers and relay orders, and get them on patrols. I’ll make sure to assist with the various projects you have begun as well.” The Blood Prince gave each of his leaders a dip of his head in respect, and then walked off. If his muscles could speak, they would probably be singing a full-blown hallelujah chorus at the thought of finally being able to rest.
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