"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.
It felt good to have someone close by, a warm body who hadn’t been tainted by evil and a brother by species name. I didn’t offer conversation, it was struggle enough just to fly through the storm. My teeth chatter behind sealed lips, a vibration that causes crown to tremble with each violent pull of the wind. Feathers balanced themselves, beating off rhythm with his thumping appendages so we didn’t end up hurling into the other. Fina flew close to my neck, her smaller feathers emitting a warm light against the daunting cold. Slush that had long since turned to ice weighs down my spine and seems to coat each individual hair. Whipping banners feel heavy and painful when striking against bare flesh.
We fly high over the darkness, I dared not take us lower to the ground even though the winds were much more unpredictable at this altitude. Below stood a graveyard that stretched for as far as one could see. Miles upon miles of dead things, cold and gaping savagely. Things that had long since died on the inside.
Despite nearly freezing I carried the wind as a favored son, it didn’t jar my speed or hinder movement. A skillfully as a dolphin breaking past the rippling waves my birthright was well placed and undaunted by flight. As long as we just kept going, just a little longer.
Fina jutted right and I followed without question. She could see much better in this storm than the most sensitive of our species. Finally, at long last the volcanic hills of Helovia’s dark heart came into view; warmth followed and the lessening of snow. Lava pooled from below, but I didn’t draw us closer however tempting it was; the darkness had come even to here. The very doorstep of our salvation.
Gaze shifts to regard my pale flight buddy. Hard glints that are normally forgiving and soft, are narrowed due to the strain of not shivering violently apart. The warm air sends welcome chills across my spine, soothing out hard ice which was caked upon flesh. My companion dips her wings forward and dives for the ground, I follow and we come to the base of the cave. Golden feet clattered against stone and soft dirt. Crafted chains rested beneath this soil, unseen to those who clambered by. “This is it,” breath comes in short rasps and my chest heaves from the lengthy journey and energy spent just going to and fro. Lips slip apart, small droplets of water trailed down my long brow and dripped from nosetip. “Its appearance pales in comparison to what’s inside,” a small smile of understanding forms for our unnamed company.
It was just one, complete hell-journey. The trip to the Threshold had been nothing special, but once there, the skies had come crashing down. Freezing rain had plastered his thick coat against his skin, body steaming away precious heat at a too rapid rate, breath pluming into cold air. And on the return journey, it just became worse and worse. The wind picked up. The cold intensified. Every ounce of warmth was robbed from body and soul, thick ice blocking his veins—if poor Fiore had attempted to have any kind of conversation, Mauja wouldn't have noticed. He set his shaking jaws together, lowered his head against the storm winds, and simply decided that he wouldn't stop trotting until he was home again.
So in that fashion, stubborn and distant and frozen to the core, Mauja crossed Helovia with the sturdy paint stallion in tow. Ice rimed his whiskers, ice covered the stiller parts of his body like armor plates, back, shoulders, face. His tail was a dead, heavy weight of ice, forelock all tangled up and frozen to his horn, mane a mess full of ice-clumps beating bruises against his cold neck with every step. Winter was his friend only as long as he was dry; standing in a downpour did not make you dry. Quite the opposite.
There was only one way to go and that was forward, his internal compass keeping their track fairly straight through the storm-wrecked, abandoned land. Helovia had a haunted feeling, shadows swirling around his fetlocks with every step and snapping half-heartedly after him. Nothing stirred on either horizon, and the clouds and keening wind kept him from even considering the sky. Fortunately, there were no wraiths in their path. Once or twice he thought he caught sight of a slow-moving shape disturbing the hazy outline of the horizon, but they could just as well have been trees.
Gradually the footing changed, from nearly undisturbed snow (for who crossed the surface these days?) to heavy slush, and finally, the dark, volcanic sands. The horizon had brightened into a steady glow, the low, murmuring roar of the Heartfire barely heard over the whipping winds. Bit by bit the air had warmed, though he kept clear of the furnace; it, too, had fallen to corruption, volatile and violent as it flickered and roared. Mauja gritted his teeth. Just a little further... Exhaustion burned in his limbs, lungs pushing out breaths in harsh snorts, dragged them in again with a gasp. Fresh blood had seeped out from some of the deeper wounds, torn open by the constant movement.
And then, from the sky, shapes descended; led by fire itself, two horses, wings folding. One was familiar. He frowned, steps faltering from a dogged trot to a walk. He was spent, utterly spent, heart racing and breath turning into a rattling series of coughs. His hoof snagged on a rock and he stumbled sideways, righting himself only with an effort; damn everything. Damn him. Why had he gone out? There was no way he'd get out of this in good shape.
"Midas," he whispered, still too far away, suddenly knowing why the shape was so familiar. Blearily, Mauja turned to look at the paint stallion, hoping to see him there; tired, maybe, after such a long, intense travel through a storm, but hopefully alive and not full of pus and rotting flesh and bared, beating hearts. Irma was somewhere there too, in the back of his mind, sending warmth and strength and a handful of curses. He steeled himself, forced his aching limbs to push off into a trot again. Don't go, don't go, don't go; was he just hallucinating the paint campolina? Why did it feel like the world would end if Midas went down with his charge, and left them alone here, on the surface? "Midas," he said again, still too low, maybe just twenty yards away now, a blur of white in the damned world. Gone was their last parting, the charges presented against him, the act of violence.
"Midas!" he finally managed to cry out, a weak shout across the sound of windfury; he was tired and cold and aching, but no matter how chilled he felt, to a touch he would be flaming hot with fever.
( @[Hawkeye], @[Fiore]; Candy, let me know if you don't want me to assume Hawkeye landed too ^^ )
The cold had set in, the harsh winds brushing across skin feeling as if it were going to rip the flesh away. It was a pain, stinging like flames to the skin, a tingling sensation that would forever embed itself in one’s mind. Forget the cold, its numbness had taken hold, movements ached but the pain was masked with the frozen altitude the duo held. The silver knight did his best to keep his painted brother in his vision as he continued to glide as his wing. Ivory lips quivering as golden gaze falls below, the streamline scenic view was nothing but darkness, a sheet covered the land and the warrior could help but feel the evil rising from the earth below. He questioned what had happened to this place, was it always as such? Had this evil spawned from these naked pines, those empty ghost lands; it would be a question he would surly ask the winged brother at his side in due time.
A sudden burst of warmth arose from the lands below, a soft glow of vivid gold and crimson spread across the lands. Volcanic ash laced with snow drifting past his vision. It was hard to avoid the urge to ascend and let the earth warm his frozen bones. The thought had passed his mind, but his gaze was met with that of the war-lord to his right, and the thought slipped away as if he owed this stallion his life. Hooves pumped through the air, perhaps to keep his body somewhat warmer, rather than risking limbs to retire and be bound to his body in ice. The glittering glow of the legendary bird distanced, and his comrade banked down to the earth below. Following suite, feathers of obsidian and cream hard lined in horizontal form as he banked down and neared the lands below.
The snow had eased, and the air was slightly warmer than before. Arching back, drums beat once, twice, and golden hooves touched with ease upon the rock and dusty terrain. The thin sheet of ice that glittered upon his silver dapple skin reflected that of his companion Phoenix. Feathers ruffled, freeing them of moisture as they collaborated back to his sides, his chest heaving as their journey was long and harsh. Weathered, wind-blown and exhausted, the knight elevated his head and turned to look upon his golden hoofed brother.
"So long as it’s warmer within." A smile was given through medium tones, as his breath was staggered in attempt to catch up. Stepping closer to the painted stallion, his stance was a friendly one, happy to be alongside another such as him. Golden eyes did their best to mask the ache in his muscles; the fatigue that lay dormant behind them was filtered with a beam of light. "What-" Tones silenced before the stallion could even make a questionable sentence to his feathered friend. Distant hoof beats sloshing in the snow, a voice boomed through the winds that sent the silver knight into defense mode. Wings unruffled from his sides, parting and throwing up towards the snow plated heavens. Twin ink soldiers slowly pivoted back against the chiseled crown, storm-gray fibers mingling against his neck, winding around his golden crest.
From the blur of the shadows and snow, a white form, masculine and dotted with imperfections of black. He bore no wings, but yielded a weapon upon his crown. Unsure of this was friend or foe- demon or warrior; the silver hawk remained in a stern stance, wing tips touching the sky as his golden gaze rested a neutral gaze upon the white beast heading their way. "Company, or traitor?" Was a muffled whisper under his breath, a question to the painted brother that stood beside him. He was unsure of the customs here; but most Unicorns back home were not of the friendly sort.
Fiore's gaze had lingered on the mare as he had turned to leave, even through the dire weather he still felt guilt, why would she not answer? Why remain? The conditions were not fit to stay any longer to ask those questions and so his beryl gaze turned away from her lonely looking figure, hoping to any God that cared to listen or angels who stirred enough to hear his plea; let her live. For she was surely precious to someone, somewhere. With that, he'd thundered on after the disappearing stranger who was just a giant outline through the pouring rain. His trails and scent being washed away in the freezing deluge, if anyone was looking for him, they had no chance of finding the evidence now. Not that anyone would be searching for him, it was a nice, brief thought however. For now the stallion didn't really think, he just pushed and grimaced, fit from travelling, but even this was a work out for him.
They had travelled far, through land that looked deserted, where on earth was he?! He'd never seen such a life less place. Even though the weather was foul, their was always signs of life, however this place looked like somewhere someone had left in a hurry. Was the strangers talk of undead true? No, it couldn't be, such nonsense couldn't be genuine. Could it? He had plenty of time to mull over the absolute absurdity of it, enough time in fact to wonder if this stallion knew where they were going? Great, was he now lost as well as wetter than a mermaid?! He had no choice, but to follow, Fiore didn't know where he was going at all, he just had blind trust that this idiot knew what he was doing.
In what seemed like forever, the clouds finally broke and the sky brightened, hooves sinking into volcanic like sand in a sudden change of terrain, and that wasn't all that was changing. The stallion before him seem to notice something and Fiore traced upwards into the sky, watching two figures landing, figures that were much larger than your normal bird. Fiore blinked. Was he hallucinating? Didn't pegasus only exist in fairy tales?! His guide turned to glance at him and the stud's eyes bulged at the spear sticking from his head, unicorns?! Where in the lords name was he?! The boy swallowed, blinking a few times as if trying to wake up from a dream, somehow he'd strayed into an almost deserted land in the dead of winter with frilly unicorns and flying horses.
The stranger shouted a name, Midas, and began moving towards the other mythical creatures. Fiore pushed aside his reeling mind and breathed out a weary breath, his muscles screaming in complaint at any more movement, surely it wasn't far now. As they moved he noticed the sudden warm air came from a hole of flames, which passed over his mind as he accepted any absurdity now, he'd seen everything. The closer he got the more he had to except that the reality here was indeed like a child's story and nothing was 'normal' at least nothing he'd seen so far had been normal. The first pegasus was around the same height as himself in horse terms, painted in a similar fashion with a more monochrome theme, some metal trinket hanging around his neck and splashed in gold. The other was dappled in theme, taller than himself, but smaller than his guide, he also had gilded markings with hooves to match making Fiore wonder if that was the fashion here. A strange vibrant bird accompanied them as well.
Fiore presumed the smaller of the two winged creatures was the one named Midas, the only name he'd learnt so far in his gruelling journey into this new land. He looked past the gathering to see a cave entrance, was this where they had been heading? How dreary. Still, it looked better than the freezing rain that was battering them earlier. Fiore turned to his horned guide with a tired expression, noting for the first time that he was covered in scars and looked generally ill. Some were weeping and stained his fur a crimson colour, what on earth was someone in his condition doing out? "Don't you think you're pushing yourself a little too far, those wounds will only get worse if you keep pushing yourself like this. Does this land not have a healer?" He asked with genuine concern, not really sure why he was worried about a stranger he'd just met, but he'd already left a mare alone in horrid conditions, perhaps his guilty conscience was making a better stallion out of him.
Hey young blood Doesn't it feel like our time is running out?
As much as one could dislike living in a cave when that someone was born for heaven—the damp darkness was preferable to the evil which lay outside and current bitter cold. The stranger I’d been traveling with was out of breath, but feeling well enough to return my smile and even answer. To which I replied with a growing beam and a hardy, “Yar, tis considerably warmer…” he moved to say something else as Fina alters her flight into the cave, eager to settle in and eat her hard earned prize.
A voice called out to me through the cold wind. Nay, not just any voice, my mind clicked into action and crown swung round. I knew the owner of that voice, and the memories it held. Senses slipped a notch back, catching the faint tones of my golden hooved friend. For a moment all I could do was simply stare at that beast of snow and ice, his shimmering horn and even eyes not just a figment of imagination. Unlike my company that had traveled near on the winds, my wings remained tightly coiled; unwilling to simply unfurl and release precious heat for every person that happened to know my title. But he was correct in being wary, a soldiers instinct.
This creature had avoided capture, got away with murder and was seemingly embraced by some dark entity that hosted it. He had escaped through the ocean, nay, into the ocean. Perhaps the first glance wasn’t enough, I knew little to nothing of the story that lead me and Guacho toward what we believed was justice. There was a small piece of me, that childish piece, that felt betrayed by his display of cowardice; I’d expected so much more from someone that was in all fairness a person I’d come to respect.
“Both.” I whispered finally, meant for his ears alone and his own conclusions. To some, this man was a traitor and a murderer. I had no obligation for either titles, such sins hadn’t been against me or my family to the best of such knowledge—and didn’t we all commit treachery? Either in subtle forms or in visible ones.
I scented the air, trying to pick up faint whiffs of sickness that would come in the form of rotting meat, or sticky sweet acid that spewed pus. Neither could be traced in the breeze that was blowing, “Is ye infected? If not step forward as a friend to us, ye will find no war with me.” He could either die out in the wilderness or accept my forgiveness (whatever it’s worth) in the form of acceptance that very few actually showed with a whole heart. Another figure pushed out from behind him, a stranger to me and hornless.
03-01-2014, 07:04 AM (This post was last modified: 03-01-2014, 07:15 AM by Mauja.)
Mauja Frosthjärta
If the heavy weight of darkness hadn't weighed his steps and mind down, there were many things he would've thought of, and wanted to say, and explain: of what had actually happened that day in the Deep Forest, who Sarazheha was, and why he'd simply followed the dark stallion out to sea, to disappear, from Helovia and the looming trial.
Torasin was already dead. The truth could wait.
But his mind was struggling with reality, his bones aching with fire and flame. Each breath was ragged and harsh, only stubbornness and glacial will pushing him forward across the acrid terrain. He steamed in the cold darkness, the pale, white smoke rising to the distant sky. Wings flared, and Mauja's path wobbled, shying away from the motion, even if it was distant—a threat, a threat his mind whispered to each beat of his heart, but Midas remained put. Wings folded. Only the other stallion splayed his appendages out in clear warning.
So close. And yet so far. His focus was on reaching Midas, not far enough: unless he steeled himself, he'd collapse at the paint's feet, on the doorstep of salvation.
Stand still, and breathe.
Irma's harsh command rang through the dim world, spearing through the fog of his exhaustion and illness; he was close enough now, anyway, out of touch's reach, but not far enough away that they'd have to shout. Knees locked and limbs stood wide apart, black nostrils flared, ears listening to the voice ringing through the keening of the harsh, bitter wind. “Is ye infected? If not step forward as a friend to us, ye will find no war with me.” He didn't really know what he meant, to which parts of everything it pertained—just this? Or the dim hazy notion that he had lots of things to explain to Midas, if he wanted to know, and listen? That he'd spoken with Hellena and Kahlua and already set the rocks in motion?
Before he had the chance to answer Fiore stepped up beside him, speaking, commenting on the wounds dribbling out some mixture of rain and blood. Mauja couldn't quite decide if he was mocking, or honest, or if he'd not noticed until now, or if he hadn't thought about what would've happened if Mauja hadn't come to save him. Blearily, eyes weeping from the sting of the wind and the sudden, relative heat, he stared from one to the other, unsure of where to begin. His tongue felt dead and leaden, not frozen, but swollen, and his mind as if it didn't remember what words were—how to form them, or what they were for.
A dumb, sick beast.
But finally he found his tongue, voice weak and harsh, trembling, just as his heart and limbs did.
"No infection," he managed to get out, hoping it was not too soft for the distance. His eyes turned to Fiore, his company. "And someone had to save you." He knew the stallion had said more, but he couldn't recall what; he just wanted to fold up his legs down in the soft moss, and sleep, sleep, sleep. Tentatively, his eyes settled on Midas again, and he took a few, stumbling steps closer. "Midas," he simply said again, something of a question hidden in his voice, as if looking for confirmation. But of what, he didn't know himself.
[ Congratulations on over 700, Angel! :D ]
A million miles from home, I'm frozen to the bones, I am... a soldier on my own, I don't know the way.
Cold liquid drizzled down from his elevated feather-tips. Golden pools devouring the rendering scenic lands against that of the alabaster stallion that approaches. Steel skin just beginning to thaw from its frozen state, the melting frost dripping from his moist brow, streaming to drop from his velvet lips. Both His golden winged brother spoke finally, and all the more the knight became uneasy. The leopard stallion nearing, being labeled both a companion and traitor; though he was unsure of the reason, the steel soldier refrained from anymore questions and observed the situation. Lobes laced in ink drifted back against his skull as his eyes held a hunters gaze, frosted in curiosity as he looked upon the fatigued being.
Following suit with his painted companion, nostrils inhale against the breeze, taking in the scent of winter, moist earth, and the stallion before them. Is ye infected? If not step forward as a friend to us, ye will find no war with me. A curious glance was given to the painted stallion at his side, wondering what infection he might be talking about. Turning to the sickly looking brute, a hefty snort exhaled through his lungs. A golden hoof stepped forth, shuffling his weight as his wings finally collaborated at his sides once more; the cold was just too much to bare to leave them wide open in a standoff; besides his winged brother didn’t seem to be on offence. Gathering himself, he still stood tall; wings fluffing at his side unsure almost if he wanted them open or closed. Midas, the name that was constantly uttered from the lips of the tired unicorn; was that the name of his winged brother that stood at his side, lobes slowly eased forth, fixating upon another stallion of dual-toned hues.
Another stallion, questioning the other upon his status of health; Hawkeye snorted, gazing upon this rather plain looking creature. He had seen his kind before, in the company of dragons. Demon beasts that breathe fire and bring only death and destruction; lucky for this stallion no reptile accompanied him. Golden eyes played him no more attention as he turned to gaze upon the other as his trembling body stood distanced from him. Steam fluffed around his plush lips as he wondered what had happened to the feeble being. No infection. His voice seemed weak and forced, lobes flicking forth and visage elevating to breathe in the air around them.
Observation had done nothing for the steel warrior here, he was just as confused as he was moments ago taking the spotted stallion to be of threat; and although he was weak and weary he would be no match against the silver knight now, so his mind was at ease. Midas the name he uttered again, putting two and two together, within his mind that indeed was the name of his companion. He held his ground however, as the unicorn advanced wings unhitched from his side in defense mode should things go array. A voice, but a whisper as he turned his head slightly to gaze upon the painted Pegasus.
"Midas?" baritones questioned him, unsure of it was his name, or perhaps he was talking about another. Who was this Midas?
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