"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.
His nomadic soul restless with the kindled fire of purpose, Torleik took to the outside world once more with intent to discover what changes had occurred to the lands. Whatever foul plague had burdened them had given way to another season of Frostfall, and the herds were coming together once more. But what herds, and where? The stallion knew he likely should have learned who amongst his own herd were fit for spying and information gathering, but he was never one to sit back and let others do what he wished to.
Irelyn was useful for scouting and enjoyed greatly taking to the skies - and Torleik felt making her communicate with him that way helped her learn and grow. So it was that she wheeled above the snowy ground now, telling him trees, more trees, rocks, nothing.
The Heavenly Fields were as he had remembered them, and he sought to find some solitude and peace here. This place held good memories, memories shared with another. His thoughts wandered to her, wondering if she was doing well. When things settled, Torleik felt he should visit again. Find her, somehow. A warning thrum through their bond from Irelyn made Torleik's senses sharpen, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly.
'Other you!' her avian voice trilled in his head and he stiffened.
'Others? How many?' he asked, knowing Irelyn wasn't advanced enough to use proper plurals and singulars yet.
'One...' was the cautious, uncertain response. She still wasn't too good with numbers.
One other horse did not concern Torleik much. Could be a newcomer, could be a wanderer, could be a threat. Wouldn't know until he met them, whoever they were. 'Kind?'
'You. Sticks in head.' So it was a unicorn. Sticks? Multiple horns, maybe. Maybe she was just using improper singular/plural words again. That made Torleik relax some, being this close to the Basin. Perhaps it was someone he could recruit? They were certainly looking for anyone who would be willing to join the ranks, especially after Helovia's pervading miasma. Perfect time to play on the uncertainties of a lone wanderer and invite them into the safety of a herd.
'Good girl. Fly back to me in their direction so I know where they are,' the stallion instructed, watching Irelyn approach from his right. Turning, Torleik made his was methodically towards this lone unicorn whom he assumed was in the distance. The fog was thick right now, obscuring any long-distance vision for the stallion on the ground. 'Hm...take to the sky above me. Be my eyes.' With a purr of agreement, the owl-griffin took flight once more, waiting and watching above her bonded.
@[Morir]
@[Veil]
@[Sheba]
@[Tyradon]
--------------------------
OOC: Morir first, I would assume. Placing the thread here since Torleik would not wander far from the Basin at this time.
03-19-2014, 03:40 AM (This post was last modified: 03-19-2014, 03:41 AM by Morir.)
What manner of luck was this? He must have done something right for once, because lately his Lady had been smiling on him with teeth bared, clearly approving on his actions. Why else would an intended target walk right into the maw of their trap, without being tricked or lured? It was Morir that first noticed that something was up, his sharp hearing catching the sound of wind rushing over wings where he stood amidst his comrades (or well.. it would be a stretch to call Tyradon a comrade, he was more of a necessary evil). The skull-masked head lifted in a sudden fluid motion and without regard for rank or courtesy he hushed at the others to be quiet. A tense second passed, then another... and then, just as he was about to relax and push the sound away as a trick of the mist, a clack of hoof against rock set the obsidian hellion springing to action.
"Sheba, two are heading this way, one grounded and one in the air. Try separating them, catch the critter if you can. Veil, go around and cut off the escape route. Tyradon, the other direction - if it pleases you." The orders were hushed and quick, delivered rapidly in clear assumption that they would be followed. It was his first task as head of his rank, but not even for a second did he think that the others would dare to contest his position. Rank was everything in the Regime - without it, how would you keep a pack of power-hungry wolves in check?
Without waiting for confirmation Morir slipped away from the others and headed out into the mist, transforming himself into naught but a tall, looming shadow amidst the clammy fog. He began walking in the general direction of the target, guided by whatever faint sounds the approaching was creating. The muffled sound of a voice drifted towards him through the air, apparently conversing aloud with whomever it was that swished about through the air. The stag couldn't be sure what exactly it was, but considering the sound of wing-beats, the speed of its turns and the general sensation of lightness - he had to assume that it was not another horse. A companion then? They sure were abundant in this place, but the allure was quite lost on him - he had never liked rodents and carnivores were nothing but a pest.
"Hello?" he called out, deliberately turning the deep baritone meek and trembling, feeble as though belonging to someone lost and forlorn. "Who goes there? Reveal yourself... Hello?" Hopefully it would be enough to keep the approacher fixed on himself, oblivious to the predators that roamed the vicinity. How long would it take them to get in position? He tried to count the moments and make an estimate, heart suddenly throbbing in the chest from the rush of adrenaline. Ah, so exciting! No wonder wolves enjoyed their hunt, if this was the feeling of stalking a prey. Slowly the swarthy heathen meandered closer, purposely scraping the hooves along the ground to create as much of a racket as possible.
If this didn't succeed it wouldn't be on him, that much he would make sure.
"I embrace the thorny rose to my chest and fall into the crimson sea I continue dancing upon the piled bodies until I die"
You’re not at all fond of the idea of catching a critter, whatever it may be, but you realize that it’s best to follow orders, at least for now. You dislike being treated like some common foot soldier—you’re much too pretty for that, Sheba, and besides, it wastes your best talents. For you are a silvertongue, gifted in lies and trickery. But, if it keeps Morir happy, find the critter you shall. You want the protection of this group, and disobeying orders won’t bring trust.
You wander away into the fog, wondering exactly how to catch something, especially when you don’t know what type of something you’re looking for. You hope it’s not one of those glorified lizards that Adele has; maybe it’s more like Voodoo’s little pet. But what do you do to attract it? It’s not as simple as a, “Here, kitty, kitty, kitty…!” You think. What had separated Voodoo from his companion? Maybe, you muse, thinking of the boy’s awkwardness, he has just been incompetent at keeping it by his side. But no, that won’t help you now. There must be somethi--ah. Curiosity.
You smile to yourself, for you can attract attention when you want to. You begin to sing, letting notes fly in that ancient tongue, high and clear. Inspired by your little burst of creativity, you add in a cute little dance, stepping this way and that, adding the occasional twirl every now and then. Braids are flying, hooves kissing the fresh snow…ah, you know that you are a sight to behold. Too bad the mist is blocking you from Tyradon and Veil’s view. Anything in the near vicinity, or flying above, however, can spot you, and you hope that this critter will do just that. Here, kitty, kitty indeed.
They stand, a marauding pack of wolves waiting to lure something into their trap; an intricate spider's web, and the stickhead coming towards them is naught but a fly. One twitch and he will be paralyzed, a slave to their wicked whims, entangled and helpless. The bastard has to admit that, for all his flaws, Morir is good at capturing their enemies - perhaps it's because he is blind and looks so innocent and harmless, or perhaps it is just that there is a particularly keen and sly mind behind those broken eyes. Either way, Tyradon has to reluctantly admit that the kid has his uses, as irritating as that is.
His ears momentarily pin as he's given orders, but with a gruff grunt he aquiesces. He moves to the other side of Veil, splitting off from Confutatis' boy and circling around their unfortunate victim. For once Cynder isn't with him - she flies high above, where her flaming tail cannot give them away. His mind aches with her absence, but she's close enough to be recalled if the situation calls for it - for now the bastard moves as silently as his massive frame will allow, trying to tread carefully over the fog-laden ground. In the distance he can hear Morir making as much noise as possible, which hopefully covers Tyradon's occasional clumsy stumble as he breaks a twig - stealth has never been his strong point. He can hear singing as well, and rolls his eyes at the idea of another individual with singy-healing-magic. Well, if it works...
Slowly he begins to advance slowly forwards, trying to keep out of ear and eyeshot of their prey, as well as making sure the wind blows in his face to keep his scent away - he doesn't want to reveal himself just yet and cause the unicorn to bolt, not before the others have gathered to seal their net together with their hapless captive stuck inside.
.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
![[Image: 531c0b471919e]](http://images.helovia.net/index.php/view/531c0b471919e)
