"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 was strange, how a place so familiar, could hold so many new, unusual, things. Things I couldn't have imagined up unless I had seen them first, things that were so foreign to me, I wondered that I hadn't found them before. It was a wondrous thing, this creation that surely could have only been brought into existence by magic, or godly intervention.
Ha. The Gods.
I did wonder just how 'present' they were now. If they were so great and powerful, why did their powers not stretch beyond the borders of Helovia? How did they claim to be all-powerful and all-knowing, when they let places like Isilme burn and suffer under the broken and inadequate rule of those fools called Nieque, Sepagus and Cinnoru? At least, that was what father told me. They led a world that crumbled beneath their unbalanced powers.
Would Helovia crumble one day too?
Hadn't it already?
Yet even as I mocked them, I felt their presence. Not even I could deny their touch. They had blessed me the day my father fell. Wind flowed through my veins, ever since that zephyr came and whisked my sire's bodice away into oblivion.
I still remember the song you sang that day.
It was what had drawn the others to him, to us. It was what signalled his passing into whatever existed beyond the end of life. I still hear that song, though it is faded, since you are no longer within my soul to sing it.
Oh Sitka. I miss you.
The wooden shaft of his - well, I suppose now it's my - spear bends ever so slightly between my teeth. Father said it was the spear of his father, and probably his father before him. It's sharpened, silver point glints in the fading sunlight. Dusk settles itself across the horizon, its hues setting off a splendorous display across my hide. I seem to glow, as the clouds above me set off a dazzling display of oranges, pinks, purples and deep, crimsons.
The point of the spear directs itself towards the entrance to this pavilion, at least, that's the only word I can think of for this alien structure. My wings stand off from my sides slightly, ready to burst open and lift myself to the air in a moments notice. My eyes, bright and clear cerulean, gleam a vivid indigo as the glass refracts the setting sun's rays into them. I place a single hoof into the structure, my hide shivering as the drapes flutter from the wind that naturally follows me around. This is as far as I go, as I am not terribly keen on backing myself into what, for want of a better descriptor, resembles a giant cage.
And everyone knows that birds do not belong in cages.
[[ For @[Déodat] and anyone else who would like to join ^^ ]]
Déodat had lurked at the Rotunda well after his time with d’Art. There was still a chance the bitch would return to her den, but it was to no avail. This drove him into a foul mood as his effort were fruitless when he could’ve been at home. Of course, Odette found the whole adventure to be rather exciting and an opportunity to explore. The white pup took seized another chance to wander about. She slipped away while her bonded slept and began to patrol about, seeking a new face to befriend and cling to. Every face she had encountered recently had been good fun.
The pup stopped at the sight of the winged mare. Her head cocked to the left and right as she stared at the peculiarity of the mare. Déodat’s hatred for other races hadn’t polluted her heart quite yet, it hadn’t even begun to seep in. Instead, she yapped at the bird-horse and ran toward her, deciding the mare would be her new friend. All the while her bonded awoke to no pup at his side.
Déodat released a stream of curses at the absence of his bonded. He stormed through the trees, not caring particularly about the noise he released. As he stepped out near the Rotunda he glowered at the figure of the white pup, who was trying to jump upon the mare’s ankles. Then his gaze flickered to pegasi and that familiar hatred boiled in his blood. All he could see was the face of the general that slaughtered his father. He stepped into the Rotunda, ears pinned back against his head.
“Tell me, are you a member of the Regime?” Déodat said, his tone gruff and harsh. His expression was somber and fierce. Illynx’s words lingered in the back of his mind. Only if the mare was an outcast he could harm her. A disappointing factor really, and he silently craved for the mare to be of no alliance so he may drag her back to the cold north. “You’d best not lie to me either. I am not fond of liars, just as I am not fond of skyrats.”
@[Cirrus]
[Let me know if you don't want to be tagged. ]
talk talk talk
If not for you, Sitka, I think I would have startled at the yapping that begun behind me, swung my spearpoint around and made to stab the pale canine that raced towards me. As it was, the yapping brought my attention away from the strange cage, and I merely peered over my shoulder to view the young, pale, wolf-like creature approach. My gaze softened slightly as I recognised the motion of play, though I still held the spear in my mouth, a small laugh bubbled up around the wooden shaft. I swept my long, leonine tail to and fro, attempting to taunt her into chasing the swishing tendrils. It was a gentle wistfulness that carried my playful actions, and while I felt the sadness of your absence, I tried not to let that distract from the joy of interacting with a young, vibrant soul.
I did wonder if she were a bonded soul, if her playful and social persona were shared with another. It was unusual, I think, to come across a canine so well adjusted to being around an equine derivative, without having them be bonded. Certainly, no wild wolves, or hellhounds, would seek out the company of an equine for social purposes, and this delightful gem did not seem vicious or ill tempered at all.
It was a shame I could not say the same for her bonded.
He was tall, horned, and grumpy. That was my quick, initial assessment of the unicorn who so boldly demanded I reveal to him what I rarely reveal to anyone. Innocent curiosity masked my façade as I considered him, in all his gruff, assertive, aggressive air. Perhaps when I was younger, and less able to defend myself, I would have been scared. But I was not afraid, perhaps slightly on edge, but the tension that I had held before over exploring this strange cage had dissolved upon the arrival of the friendly, bouncy canine. Amusement glittered behind my eyes, just as the sun descended slowly down the horizon and across my hide. The spear twirls in my mouth, as the point was originally pointed away from him, but soon spins so that the sharp, silver spearhead is directed right towards his crimson-crown cranium.
I figured he came at me with his horn, I may as well return the favour, and point my own at him.
"I can honestly say that I am not fond of strangers demanding information usually reserved for those who have earned it." My voice is smooth, my cerulean gaze never wavering from the steed's own. I was vaguely aware of the pup's whereabouts, but until she conveyed similar aggressive tendencies as her bonded, I was fairly unconcerned. Meanwhile, clouds began to gather above us, and a small smirk quirked the corner of my maw as I felt the rush of magic flow through my veins.
We'll see whether this steed enjoys getting his feet wet.
Déodat watched the mare turn toward him and her words poured from her mouth as she pointed a stick at him. For a moment his eyes glanced at the pointy object, an unimpressed expression written on his face. All he did for a long moment was flick his tail and simply watch. Odette paced about between the equines whining softly. She pondered why her bonded always turned out to be such an ass all the time.
“If you simply answer the question I can leave you alone,” Déodat said his tone oozing with aggression as he dared to take a step closer. “I’ve got not interest in a mare with a stick, unless, you happen to be an enemy of my home. If you’re Regime, face your crimes now, it will save you much more trouble.”
Why did they always have to make things difficult? A simple yes or no would be enough for him. It would be quite a bother to drag the mare all the way back to his northern home. Or to toy about with methods of torture, which Déodat admittedly was foreign to. He was a soldier and he would prefer to leave the dirty work to those similar to the Reaper or the Engineer. Maybe he could give the mare as a plaything for Ulrik, let the Engineer shove his horn into her head and do whatever his kind did to such creatures.
As he took another step forward he felt a tug on his tail. Déodat flung his head to the side and lifted one hoof to strike at what had come after him, only to find that it was Odette. The pup was making her point quite clear, she didn’t wish for violence. He snorted and shook his head ash he turned back toward the mare before him.
“I only want trouble if you follow behind the mare Confutatis, if you don’t, then I have little interest in you.” He said as Odette continued to yank upon his long tail.
This tree... he has seen this tree before. Blue eyes narrow with cool fury as he looks it up and down, certain now. That scar in the bark, just above his ears – familiar. The forest has been leading him in circles. The sun’s trajectory far overhead offers no consolation, and with a soft snort, Caneo tosses his delicate head.
How will he find the Basin, now?
Disgusted, he turns away. His toes begin their wandering again, dainty steps leading him under a network of branches and small, scurrying feet. Perhaps herd life never suited him well, anyway. He considers wandering this forest though and sighs. Dark promises to catch up on him while he paces like a wayward child. Once, maybe, such a promise filled him with hope for the sight of stars and the opportunity of finding his way again. But Helovia’s stars mean nothing to him, and as the shadows lengthen, clouds begin scudding across the pale blue. Though he no longer flinches in terror from the shadows of trees, his guts twist with uneasiness at the thought of spending a night alone beneath them.
Stupid.
An insistent wind rustles though the fine silk of his mane as the clouds gather strength. Frowning, the boy pauses, pale eyes tilted heavenward to watch. He imagines the kiss of rain and resents it, wishing only to be dry while he is lost. Is it so much to ask? At least he recalls something of this place; he weaves through shadows on nimble feet, in search of the dome he found earlier. It rises in his memory like a dream: the curtains blowing softly and the gleam of tinted glass. Better shelter than none.
But he is not the first to have this thought.
He breaks through the trees by luck more than his memory – his mind still whirls confusion at the thought of navigating a forest. Perhaps haste has distracted him, but he only catches the mingled growl and hum of voices when he ventures near. The last to speak rumbles with the depth and violence of a stallion, booming like the threat of thunder on the air. Caneo hesitates, his head drawn up, his muscles pulling taut and narrow over slender bones. For a long moment, his mind whispers only run, again and again. But where to? He steps forward instead, slowly and without the easy grace of his gait before. Toward the voices, then, and the strange glitter of the rotunda...
He finds them at a stalemate, or maybe bracing to do battle. The nearest is a familiar sight, if only in general terms: large, muscular, proud and angry in his stance. The length of his horn gleams crimson – fitting, for a weapon. And the way he wields it makes that abundantly clear. Caneo pauses well back from the man, blue eyes skimming quickly over the tension of trained muscle and the strange, pale animal now tugging at the stallion’s tail. His charge, or does it owe allegiance to the other...?
He gazes at the mare for longer, coolly drinking in the strange, stormy pattern of her hide, and tangle of dark hair over the graceful curve of her neck. She is more vision than reality, smaller than either unicorn but standing her ground without fear, something like a horn clenched between her teeth. And at her sides.... the abundance of feathers like a bird’s wings, like shields hung patiently and expectantly there. What magic is this? What angel, fallen into the wretched clutch of shadows and earth...? Caneo blinks, his own tail, nearly bald, wringing across the narrow structures of his hocks.
“That looks dangerous,” he says at last, unable to watch in silence – unable to turn away, caught in two directions by concern and an instinct for preservation. And you're in my way, he adds silently, though none of the venom makes it out to his face, lingering instead within the upbeat rhythm of his clenching heart. His tone is mild, nearly singsong. “If you kill each other, could you do that away from the roof? I think it's going to rain.”
07-07-2014, 08:13 AM (This post was last modified: 07-28-2014, 11:03 PM by Cirrus.)
He seems determined to find an excuse to hurt me, keen to label me an enemy before he finds me a friend. My initial reaction, naturally, is to bristle to his threat, to hurt him before he can hurt me. Already I was on edge from my investigations of this strange structure, and now I was placed in a less-than convenient position between the arch of the entrance, and his grumbling form. It was entirely possible for me to summon wind to carry my winged self skywards, to simply leave him behind - but, as I glanced down to the pale creature, his companion, I find myself willingly grounded.
May as well make the most of this decision.
Before I can do anything brash, however, the canine has intervened, in her own way. Laughter bubbles from behind my throat at her antics, I can't help the tears that attempt to well up behind my eyes as fond memories flood my mind, of your own similar antics when trying to control me.
Maybe you were still here, protecting me after all, Sitka.
The tall stallion demanded again once again to know if I was associated with a mare, Confutatis, whom, just like with the Regime, I have absolutely no clue of. They must have done something horrible, though, for him to behave this way.. Though I do suspect he is the sort of creature to call someone guilty before he calls them innocent. I wondered at the stories of racist unicorns up north, at least, before we left Helovia, they were more than stories - they had stolen my mother, but by the time I had ventured north to investigate she was once again in possession of her liberty. Upon meeting a creature of this demeanour, I could see the truth behind the stories, though I did wonder if I would have been treated differently had my wings not existed and a horn rested upon my brow.
Another arrives, and I cannot help but wonder if I have some kind of unicorn magnet attached to me.
This one seems far less hostile, more just ever so slightly irritated, like a bad smell had hatched at the end of his nose. My ears flick to him as he speaks, and with amusement shining behind my eyes, I smirk around the wooden shaft of my spear. Yes, it certainly was going to rain.
In one smooth, fluid movement, my spear is tucked away amongst the feathers of my right wing. I take on an easy posture, my tail swinging from side to side, a smirk still curving my lips. "I've no idea who this Confutatis is. Nor the Regime. So back up, buddy." I nod simply to the crimson-horned steed, sparing a friendly glance to his companion. "I've no intention of killing anyone today. But the day is still young." I comment with a rolling shrug of my shoulders.
Clouds gather above us, and subtly, the temperature drops. Humidity rises, and I am unsurprised to feel drops of rain fall from the sky. They are fat, heavy drops. My hide itches with the moving textures, and my smirk only widens as I shuffle my wings by my sides.
"Seems you were right," I murmur, absently looking to the heavens, revelling in the sensation of raindrops cascading across my brow. With a small sigh passing through my lips, I turn to the structure that before held so much intrigue, casually passing through its arches to where the rain could not reach. I look over my shoulder, before asking, "Care to join me?"