"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.
06-12-2014, 06:02 AM (This post was last modified: 06-12-2014, 06:28 PM by Africa.)
Though the sun was perched high in the bright, clear afternoon sky, the breeze spilling down from the northern ranges was mild and the day quite comfortable as a result. Even through that first week of Tallsun, Helovia had not been choked quite so terribly by the wearying heat extravaganza which was typical during the warmest months- well, apart from Dragon’s Throat. Her home naturally, was in the midst of a dry spell; spiralling dust storms, roving tumbleweeds and thick, bitter brackish winds blowing off the choppy seas surrounding. If not for the oasis’s existence to offer to the herd respite, the land would undoubtedly have been considered inhospitable. Certainly to those who strayed to close, breaching the narrow, rickety bridge, unaware of the herd thriving within; it might have seemed uninviting and not worth their time.
Africa led the two horned mare directly south through the sparsely slung redwoods and dried out thickets. She had very little desire to travel via the vast openness of the Thistle Meadow along the way home- a sun drenched journey would be uncomfortable and wearying, and thus chose instead to take them by the rim of the Deep Forest and afterwards, along the coastline until the bridge across the angry cove. For a little while the one-winged held a companionable silence, considering and revising in the privacy of her mind, all which Sialia’s generous tongue had offered her in the way of Basin information. It would save her now a great deal of time and effort; she would no longer have to send with risk the young crimson-ribbed boy Sacre into the perilous north to scavenge. It was a weight off her shoulders indeed, and as she walked the faintest hint of a smirk curled the corners of her mouth.
By the time they had stepped clear of the last pines and into the dimly lit world of the Deep Forest, Africa paused and turned, glancing carefully around them as she did so. Gentle creamy eyes came to rest upon the stranger and the smirk dissolved into a broad smile. She had brought them well clear of the hungry ears of her foes, and now felt comfortable enough to indulge the raven-hued with the details of her home previously withheld. “Forgive me...” the humble note of her voice began, “...you must know that a long standing tension between the Aurora Basin and my home exists. They have proven themselves to be naught but reptiles, with hearts as bitter as the environment they inhabit.
As I said, I’m Africa and I lead Dragon’s Throat with blessing of the God of the Sun himself.” The grey paused, closing her eyes lightly and dipping her pale face in a show of humility and respect towards her company. “There has been a recent darkness- a sickness in fact, which caused all allegiances through Helovia to be severed. For now my home sits beneath a veil of obscurity, thankfully set apart from the main population. It has allowed for transformation in peace, without the threat of prying eyes and greedy hearts. Our numbers are recovering and our army is training well in the mean time.” Again she fell silent, allowing the other to soak up the small deluge of explanatory information offered. “Come...” She gestured with a subtle toss of her flame-topped skull, and began the descent into the murky shade of the forest.
“There are four claimed territories for which all herds squabble relentlessly- the Basin and the Throat, of which you know some now, and also World’s Edge to the far East, and the Hidden Falls (which she had learnt now occupied the region once called Windtossed Foothills), northwest of here. These days I know little about our neighbours.” She offered a casual shrug, and a brief half-smile. “There are bands and nomads also who wander the wilderness between, and all seek haven in the four lands mentioned as they are watched and tended each by a God. They are bestowed magic, greater protection and power.”
For a long while after, Africa walked with only the clatter of an ill-placed hoof or rattling nostrils breaking the quiet. They seemed to be covering ground much faster than she predicted, and she imagined brazenly that it was thanks to the thick shade cloaking them; conserved energy without the need to regulate body temperature. She was pleased, and less than a couple of hours later they were sauntering above the waves, traversing the western cliffs in the direction of the Heart. The Starry-Eyed was clever and sure-footed, guiding her anonymous company well across the unstable terrain, and soon the roaring ocean and mist of the sea was well behind them.
“This is Helovia’s Heart.” She explained when slate shifted to clay beneath their step, and glancing ahead towards the tower of black smoke added, “The lake of fire here burns everlastingly. There is a network of caves beneath us now which harboured most of the population during the darkness. The entrance lays in the long grass southwest of the smoke.” Africa continued a little quicker through the dry, smoky area, cutting just south of the molten lake. There would be plenty of opportunity for the mare to explore this place she was certain- it was the Throat’s closest neighbour after all. Often the parched earth here and concealing grass was used as a training ground for those aspiring soldiers and their mentors.
Eventually the bridge lay before them, and Africa began without hesitation to lead the black mare along a path between the rock and rubble, which might easily have been lost amongst the chaos by an untrained eye. She never slipped nor stumbled along the way, and checked regularly the progress of the one no doubt following. As they reached the end, a vast desert spilt before them as far as the eye could see. A swiftly moving shadow passed above them, and Africa’s pale-gold gaze lifted to meet her companion’s arrival- he had been following for a long while, but well clear of their view. Through their bond in silence, she greeted him affectionately. “Welcome to Dragon’s Throat.” She sighed finally, letting her eyes fall back to the white blazed face of the two-horned mare. “Do you have a name?”
i found a bit of the world in a land of nothingness
Their path took them through a forest, the likes of which Inara had never seen before. As a child, the forest near the valley in which her herd resided had been sparsely laid out and nowhere near as imposing. There had been great, skinny birch trees all throughout the forests of her home, and there had rarely ever been a threat. It had been a strange day when Inara had found herself in the woods with her sister when they had been stalked by hungry, yellowed eyes.
As she walks alongside the dappled mare, the dark mare is sure to carefully examine her surroundings. Not only is she worried that the two of them might come across a beast that hopes to make a meal of them, but she thinks it would be wise to remember the path to take to this illusive Dragon’s Throat. Though she would never divulge the thought to Africa, Inara was curious to see what the one-winged mare’s home looked like, if she was not to see the Aurora Basin before finding a place to settle in, at least she was able to scour the grounds of Africa’s home before making her decision.
Still they walked, and the dark mare could feel a little bubble of apprehension settling into her gut, the idea of staying in a herd in one place seemed to bring back memories of her birthplace and the faces of those that had cast her out of the herd once her sister had fallen ill.
Of course, as she reflects on her past, they seem to have moved out of the vast forest and into a great stony plain, and for a few moments she listened to little more than the soft, clipped sounds of their ragged hooves clattering against the hard ground. They hadn’t been walking for too long before Africa broke the silence with an explanation of the animosity between Dragon’s Throat and Aurora Basin that had been eluded to earlier in the careful glances passed between the other dark unicorn and the winged woman. “I gathered as much…” She answers quietly in response to the tension between the two lands, acknowledging that she had noticed the, albeit small, hints towards hostility towards the two women.
Following the mare still, she listens intently and in silence as Africa educates her. She learnt that there was more to this land than just Aurora Basin and Dragon’s Throat. There were four lands, and already that was much larger than her home. As they, she assumes, get closer to their destination, Inara listens to the explanation of what Dragon’s Throat is like as they come upon a rocky bridge, of sorts. Staring apprehensively at it, she watches as the dappled mare crosses without fear, and takes a moment before following behind her, being sure to step where she has stepped, so as to avoid stepping off the bridge and plunging to, she figured, her death.
Once on the other side of the bridge, it didn’t take them long to come to a flat, hot desert that draws Inara’s eye to the horizon, where she settles her gaze to stare for a few moments. Through the gently rippling waves of heat that reach up from the desert ground towards the sky, it seems as though the desert never really ends, and while that could be intimidating to some, the dark mare had never seen such a place in her life, and finds it enthralling. “Do you have a name?” Africa’s voice interrupts her and cuts through the silence once more, this time making eye contact with the mare before answering. “My name is Inara. I hope you can understand my earlier… mistrust.”
The darker mare drew near. ‘My name is Inara. I hope you can understand my earlier… mistrust.’ The Starry-Eyed inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with the unforgettable brackish scent of her homeland. She knew that paradise sat further inland, lush vegetation enclosing perhaps the purest waters of all the land, but she could not see it yet. Demure gaze traced absently the distant, rippling red horizon which seemed so flat and vast, extending in every direction she looked. It was home, wild and harsh, but she knew better; knew her desert intimately and felt the thrash of her toiling heart mellow, the aching sinew beneath mottled grey canvas unwind. The mystery surrounding Inara seemed to loosen; Africa’s long-suffering uncertainty began to evaporate. Her quietly interested eyes mellowed at once, and a warm smile eased away the mild, stoic expression upon her pale face. “No hard feelings...” The grey mare replied graciously, turning briefly as she spoke. She was not a hypocrite.
Silas’ shadow passed across them again, it was smaller as he rose upon heaven’s spiralling thermals.
As she stepped across the invisible borderline, pale hooves sinking beneath the familiar warm sand, The Starry-Eyed explained that the region was not as uncomfortable as Inara’s first impression might have assumed (many before her had glazed over with bewilderment, evidently put off by the waves of heat and waterless land). “We live on this peninsula, with feral ocean thrashing beach or cliff to each side. It is not so terrible though...” she hummed cheerfully, and smiled, “Towards the middle of the desert is an oasis, and that is where the herd lives. That is where we are headed.” Africa walked briskly She was all too eager to slip beneath the shading palms and other vegetation native to the Throat. Sweat lathered across her flanks and stained her dappled coat, and though the Tallsun heat seemed so easily to quash her energy, the one-winged soldiered on obliviously.
“You are welcome to stay with us as long as you fancy.” Her voice held no trace of hesitation, and her lovely long skull bounced encouragingly. “Perhaps to fill in your time while you learn more about us, I invite you to undertake an apprenticeship of your choosing...” She paused, both stride and talk, to turn and find the other’s bi-coloured gaze. “...No obligation, of course. The finest of the Throat’s arts are covered under tiers- Sneak, Fortify, Mend and Craft. They are all overseen by a specialist in their field. Do any interest you?” Falling silent the Starry-Eyed continued. For much of the final leg of their journey afterward, she didn’t speak further, instead allowing Inara time to consider and process the invitation and her surroundings. Soon enough they were slipping between the first flimsy arms of palms and pink flowered mimosa trees.
i found a bit of the world in a land of nothingness
Beyond the rocky bridge she has expected the desert to open up before her and become a whispering ocean of sand. It did not disappoint, for it was far larger than she had imagined, and it did in fact stretch a long distance away from the two mares under the hot sun for, she thought, a very long time.
Already she felt the uncomfortable heat of the sun boring down on her dark skin, and glances to the sky.
It was a dry day, yet she supposed that every day here had to be a dry day. As the earth moved before her under the illusion of transparent waves, dancing under the heat, Inara is thankful to hear that somewhere beyond the sand was a place they could rest and hide away from the desert’s wrath. “I’m glad there’s more to this place than sand and sun, I admit.” She answers with a little smile, now eager, almost, to find the oasis that no doubt hosted the rest of the herd and was full to the brim of water, food, and shade.
They continued onwards, and Inara started to feel the sweat lathering at her shoulders and back, dampening her skin and darkening her colour. The heat of the desert met her face as she wandered not unlike a brick wall, forcing her to push her nose forwards and try to find her way through the warmth to the oasis that Africa had promised her. Of course, she had thought to believe that the woman was leading her to a trap. She had imagined that the one-winged woman would lead her into the belly of the desert only to leave her there as a sacrifice to whatever gods she worshipped. The thought brings her to push her dark ears backwards, once more casting a cautionary glance towards the dappled mare that lead her further and further into the desert.
Africa spoke and Inara listened, resolving to hold her words and her decision until she had seen that this oasis truly existed, and that she could find a place to hide away from the sun before deciding on staying here or not. It did not take long until she saw the glittering, carefully waving palms of the oasis in the distance, growing more and more solid as they approached until they were soon looming overhead. Their shadows are welcome, and Inara adopts a clumsy, slow step that sees her slowing under the shade and moving quickly between the dark spots. “I thought you were leading me into the middle of the desert to make a supper of me for some hungry god.” the horned mare speaks up behind Africa, unafraid of voicing her thoughts now that it seemed the mare understood Inara for her suspicions.
“I will stay and learn more.” She had resolved that it could not hurt to learn more about this place. She had also reckoned that winter would soon be on the way, and once it was, she would be thankful for the desert and the hot sun to hide her away from the cold. “I’m probably pretty useless, but I think lending a hand to fortifiers might suit whatever skills I do have.”
06-24-2014, 10:37 PM (This post was last modified: 06-26-2014, 07:50 PM by Africa.)
The subtle whispering of the hot breeze roused the lush foliage surrounding the travellers to life, and the sudden (tranquil) bursts of movement caused the generous shadows cast across their path to dance lazily. Africa began automatically down the small furrow of a goat-track, worn down through the years by both the traipsing of the horses who called the oasis home, native critters and the rare downpours which more often than not broke the banks of their large, central lake. Though not nearly as vast as the desert outside, the little paradise was well large enough that a journey from east to west could easily take up half a day. “I thought you were leading me into the middle of the desert to make a supper of me for some hungry god.” Inara revealed suddenly and the one-winged could not help but laugh brightly with surprise. She stopped briefly and turned, grinning as wickedly as her sweet, gentle features could manage. “Oh, fear not! The shackles with which you’ll be bound lie just beyond the hill...” A raspy cackle filled the air as Africa lifted her chin towards the dip in the path ahead- of course there was no rise, only crude erosion.
Fire whirled above the playful moving of her skull. Africa was not an overly serious soul, and while she understood and accepted the two-horned mare’s reservations, she wanted to lessen the other’s nervousness (if any lingered). Dragon’s Throat, though fiercely named, was a humble home; not a pit of merciless soul-eaters, veiled by snow and walled by mountains.
“I will stay and learn more.” Inara’s voice mentioned from behind after a small break in the conversation. Africa was delighted to say the least, far happier than she would have been leaving the raven-coated mare to disappear north, to whatever brainwashing the Unicorn’s saw fit. At least she would be able to form her own attitude; travel afar, and return to the desert if she found no future more appealing. Heavy ears were leaning backwards attentively, eyes fixed upon the glinting reflection of water ahead- though still they had a small way to go. “I’m probably pretty useless, but I think lending a hand to fortifiers might suit whatever skills I do have.” The Starry-Eyed swallowed what felt like a stone near the bottom of her throat. The army was not exactly her forte, and for that reason (since Ampere’s disappearance) the numbers of those defenders of sun and sand had dwindled quite pathetically. Nevertheless, she smiled to herself and nodded visibly as she continued. “We’ve not yet set someone at the head of our military. There are a few names though who you might care to remember. Dalibor, Hector and Azulee are all fine warriors.”
The welcome shade failed to stem the surge of Africa’s sweating, and she grew steadily darker; barrel still heaving as lungs struggled to process the hot, dry air available to them. Occasionally she coughed, but she was in no discomfort and very much preferred the climate of her homeland to the sticky humidity of the midlands and the freezing dry far north. “You are welcome to come and go as you please Inara.” At face value, the dark mare seemed honest; dependable, and certainly the serve she had dealt to Sialia back in the Threshold had eased a number of Africa’s own uncertainties; she had no trouble accepting the other’s desire to make an educated decision. “Speak and spar with the army if that is your wish, and perhaps visit our friends, the Falls herd northeast of the Threshold- their land is hard to navigate and their centre is well hidden. It lies in the foothills of a mountain range. Ask for Midas or Rasta and they will welcome you.”
Only a short time later, Africa stepped down the root-wrought embankment above the edge of the lake. After inviting Inara down also with an open-winged gesture and a broad smile, she dipped her nose to drink at long last the cool, sweet water of the Throat.
i found a bit of the world in a land of nothingness
Eventually, Inara would see that she would regret her decision to join a herd once more. It was an unfortunate paranoia that had been borne from a mistake she had made as a child that had made her so skeptical and so cautious. Her mother's face and the things she had said to the black mare when she had been little more than an infant were strong, bitter memories that sat at the front of her mind.
She had made a mistake and she had been brandished as a careless monster.
With Africa's pass at humour, the dark mare offers a little smile and a sharp outward breath of air that could pass for a single, lonely chuckle. It would be some time before she could understand that laughter was something to be treasured and loved, instead of a tool for mockery and pain. By now her nerves had settled, as she had come to the conclusion that the dappled mare was not planning on sacrificing her to the gods in some ritualistic bloodbath, and that she was, in fact, wholly welcome here; even if the thought of being welcome anywhere left an unfamiliar taste in her mouth that Inara had yet to decide if she liked or not.
At Inara's words, she receives a brief explanation of the military situation here in the throat. While Africa seemed to believe there was more to be desired, already the mare with the broken horn could see that the fortification of Dragon's Throat was already more advanced than that of her birth home. They couldn't even protect one little filly from a hungry cougar.
It is almost assuring to know that she was not the only one that had yet to master the art of warfar, and the dark mare knew well that she still had much to learn. Throughout her years as a loner and as a wanderer she had learnt all she needed to know in order to survive. She knew when it was appropriate to linger and battle with her foe, and she knew when it was best to exploit the genetics of her ancesters and run away. That much she had mastered. “Thank you.” She says softly, hoping that the mare didn't need an explanation for her gratitude. Inara was thankful that the mare had not pressed the matters of her skepticism earlier in the meeting place that had brought about both the dappled mare and Sialia, and she was thankful that Africa did not press Inara's desire to remain relatively unattached to any one place for the time being, even if she did agree to linger in Dragon's Throat for longer than she had intended.
Maybe she would make a home of this place. That is, of course, if she managed to adapt to the Tallsun heat that bore down upon her and seemed to singe her flesh. “I think I need to do some exploring later.” She admits before following Africa's lead and advancing to the watering hole in order to drop her head and drink from the waters.
The water was so cool and refreshing. Between measured gulps it slipped along and up the parched corridor of her throat, restoring the moisture that life in such a punishing environment sapped quickly. Africa filled her empty stomach, unsure when next she might find enough time to graze or forage (duty called and errands never ran themselves), and lifted her face finally again with a residue trickle falling from her dimpled, whiskery chin. “I hope you enjoy our hospitality.” She smiled in earnest, gentle gaze dancing to either side of Inara’s ivory blaze to find each eye; pretty blue and murky brown, beneath the shadow of thick black lashes. It came to pass too, that her attention wafted for a second by the strange curved horns, more curiously the broken, and she wondered what story surrounded its lost half.
The journey home had been a long one, the day even longer, and the Starry-Eyed’s puddle-grey coat flinched with weariness as she began subconsciously to relax. The burning afternoon and the unforgiving climate devoured hungrily the last stores of her energy, and though her eyelids felt suddenly heavy, she would not rest until the freezing breath of night had again dressed the sands of her home. The light, cosy shade swayed restlessly around them as the brackish coastal wind rushed between the lushy, leafy canopy overhead, and the mare stiffened her jaw against the strain of a lazy yawn. “I will leave you here to settle in.” Her voice was soft and melodic, warm and patient. “If there is anything you need, seek me out by night. Look for the star-bird who joins me.” Silas was as starkly beautiful as moonless, sparkling night sky and he was not difficult to spot amidst a realm of light glamour and fire.
Surely Inara had already noticed him. The Roc and his bonded were inseparable, soul-mates .
Africa paused a few moments longer, not in any rush to abandon her guest should there be any further conversation to cover. Pastel eyes roved towards the lakes far perimeter, to where another of this family was relaxing; passing away the hottest hours in some comfort, and a silent smile was exchanged. Soon she turned back and signalled a respectful good bye with a slight dip of her finely chiselled skull. “Rest well.” Neat round hooves swivelled through the firm, sodden sandy brim, and she heaved her Spanish bulk back up the terribly eroded embankment. Quickly the rustling copse swallowed the young Sultana into it’s midst.
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