"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.
Clouds, thin and flimsy, covered up the stars; the moon had since long disappeared, maybe not risen at all that night. Maybe it lurked in the Sun's blue day-sky, faint silver and distant, robbing the night-walkers of their beacon. The sand, so often painted with a sterling edge, just seemed gray, lifeless, bereft of its illumination. And the ocean was a dark, hungry beast crowding in to the shore, whispering and groaning, pushing and pulling, tugging, heaving. Brittle driftwood and seaweed rolled in with it, left to wait for the harsh sunlight upon the desolate shore—carried for so long, and then just abandoned out here.
Further out, the sea spit seafoam at the shrouded sky, the small waves breaking in an almost pathetic imitation of its bigger, wind-whipped siblings. There were none of those tonight. The wind was gentle, a lull, merely a breath; the waters moved without it, to some rhythm Mauja couldn't hear, a pulse he couldn't feel. They said the moon governed the tides, and yet it was Father Earth who ruled of the realms of water.
Either the deities were illogically separated, or the world moved in a kind of symbiosis, the division of elements necessary to make sure they cooperated; and which one of them would want to relive the Sun's cruel summer, when he waged war upon them with his heat?
Because he had burned that which belonged to his siblings, heedless and angry.
He hadn't bet on the strongest mortals.
Unlike the Moon Bitch.
Mauja stared out at the distant horizon, at the ceaseless, futile struggle of the sea, wondering why his mind always spun back to that point in time: that summer. That battle. That loss. As if it somehow justified his bitterness and attitude. As if it somehow justified his seething, hidden anger.
As if it somehow could bring him back, place him back on his throne of dreams, and his empire of plans.
Slowly, he shook his head to himself. If he wanted it back, he had to take it back, and stop moaning about it. It was just.. the thought pattern was hammered so deeply into his head, he couldn't evade it, couldn't deceive it, because somehow, he always found himself trapped in it when he didn't even mean to. Like tonight, like.. like all other nights. And he wasn't the same. He couldn't be a King now. He was not strong enough to give himself for his people.
He would loathe them and ridicule them and diminish them, and they would grow resentful, and he would have become everything he'd always sworn he wouldn't.
And besides.. he couldn't do that to Kahlua. It didn't matter how much he second-guessed himself, about his motives, his black anger, his past, his future. It didn't matter, because in the end, he already knew.
06-26-2014, 11:07 PM (This post was last modified: 06-26-2014, 11:09 PM by Tandavi.)
Tandavi</style> all the beautiful dying things</style>
They pace along the ashen shore, hooves slipping in the uncertain terrain, legs leaden in the clutches of the slurping, greedy sand. Large half-moons and dappled little paws, their footprints reflect what they have become: her, tall and lithe and bulky and big, he short and dainty and three-tailed and small. He splashes in the puddles left behind by her steps, a shadow nearly invisible in the wake of her fiery glow; he disappears in the light that comes out from her mane, edges around the rim of her nightlight, the only thing holding her sanity in place.
For she is terrified, the girl, afraid of the dark and the whispering sea, the abyss of nothing that threatens to swallow her whole. She forces herself to hide it, to step in the sand and stare straight ahead; but her gaze is a lie, her stillness a mockery, and she trembles beneath the scarlet skin, mind reeling with horror at the threat of the night.
She has seen the monsters who lurk beneath the moonless sky.
She has felt their teeth, healed their wounds. Smelled their blood.
She wills herself not to shudder.
At her feet her brother whimpers, and flames shoot eager from the tails of three. It's okay, he tells her. It's over now. He smiles, his sharp teeth yellow in the fire; he has to do it, has to be strong for her. She does not look down at him, does not dare remove her eyes from the point of nothing upon which they are fixed, but her ears halt their frenzied twisting for a moment, left one tilting down to where he stands, her guardian against the surf, and for a flicker of a moment her lips soften into a strained smile. She thinks something to him, and he thinks it back: I wish Mother was here.
So do I. She loved- loves the night.
I hate it.
Her mind fills with venom, and the boy retreats from it, and for a moment they are lost within their own worlds, unaware of the dangers that surround them, of the looming spectre which has entered only the outline of their sphere of awareness. They are trapped within themselves, for they are young and self-absorbed despite their years of trials, unequipped to handle the world they have no hope of escaping.
[ ooc | hope this is okay! Feel free to kick me out, srlsy <3 ]
image by tambako @ flickr.com</style>
o. pixel pony credit to tamme
o. permission granted to use force and magic on Tavi
o. only tag me in opening posts, please!
Nighttime on the beach is the best time. Tucked away in the corner, near the smoldering blackness that you assume still houses some of the horrors from the days of monsters, you dig in the sandy dirt and pull up locoweed after locoweed. Gathering the vines, you shove them into your bag until the thing is bursting. You do not mind if they dry before you can eat them, they hold the some toxic delight fresh or not, but you must have them or else... you shudder to even think of it. Detox. They were the worst days of your life. You do have your magic, of course, that can make anyone feel as high as you but it shocks, it is painful, and it is certainly draining. It is a good supplement, but it is not a replacement. Troubling indeed.
Your gathering done, you turn to head back down the beach towards... Home? You don't like the idea particularly well. It is not home yet because you are still a stranger. They still look down upon you, still smirk at you when you pass and call you the Addict and then sneer. You are nothing but a mockery to them, though you could kill each and every one of them with the simple flick of a hoof. Grinding your hind hooves into the ground, you feel the distinct slide of sand across metal. One shot to the head with your horseshoes...
You snort. Someday you will destroy the high and mighty lord Midas on his throne.
Continuing your unsteady, wobbling pace down the beach, you are suddenly reminded of a scene very similar to one you had come upon before. Vamoose and a filly, joined by you. It's all well and good, except you are feeling particularly chatty today. At least not for the filly. Drawing up your blood magic within you, you release it upon the child. You do not know that she is a member of the Throat that your herd is attempting to ally, do not care what implications your actions cause. You want her incapacitated while you stomp your righteous ass up to Mauja.
“Vamoose. What'd you do to your other babysitter?” You're still operating under the assumption that he's mentally handicapped, having never really rectified that situation. And you're still a little bitter that he knocked you down into the ocean when he was supposed to be helping you attack the Zap!-ing filly. However, a different part of you is still massively curious about the strange, spotted beast. It's a terrible dilemma for you, honestly. And, it's a damned shame he's got some head problems, because with as bulky as he is you're sure he'd make a great sidekick while you try to take over the Falls.
@[Tandavi]
Dark x Water Magic: Able to burst red blood cells, causing reduced hemoglobin levels therefore signs of anemia and oxygen deprivation. Symptoms include muscle cramping, shortness of breath, increased heart rate, disorientation and fade after 30 seconds.
[ You used that table when Mau met Rishima too. xD ]
The world's just that kind of place, isn't it? Everything went in circles, spiraling slowly but surely down into the darkness. Him. The beach. A girl and a moron. But this time, it was not he who slowly ambled down the shoreline to the slow, throbbing rhythm of his thoughts—no, this time, it was he who stood rooted and pensive, staring out over the lackluster surface of the trembling sea, and the girl who came ambling. There was nothing of Loudmouth's stoutness to her, nothing of the flashing lights and resonating claps of her power; just a girl with long legs and feathered feet, and too many lights. Was she envious of the stars?
He looked aside from her, because he did not know her, and he wanted to be alone with the black, tangled mess that was his thoughts. There was just too much that had gone wrong (here on this beach too; this was no sanctuary), too much he'd.. too much that he'd made go wrong.
Or lost.
He was running, always running, down corridors and through doorways, but he never found the way out.
Tiny—or Moron, as Mauja preferred to call him—never ceased to amaze him with his ability to walk without falling over. It was a marvel to watch the hulking horse stagger over the sand with a sort of drunken perfection to his aim, feet rolling over still sand as if it threatened to buck him off. Still, he could've asked for better company, or no company at all, but there was something in the determination of the weird black horse's movements that gave Mauja the notion that even if he ran away now, the behemoth would just hunt him down later. But why?
Mauja hadn't the slightest clue. Nor did he have the slightest clue what the draft was doing to the girl who, unfortunately, found herself on the same stretch of beach as the two of them.
“Vamoose. What'd you do to your other babysitter?”
It drew a snort from his dark nostrils, tail flicking once, sweeping sand with it. "I ate her," he responded with a scowl, head sweeping haughtily up; pale and regal, even in the dim light of the moonless night. He leveled his cold eyes on his companion, never quite sure if he truly disliked the stallion or just found him bothersome. "Why? What's it to you?"
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