"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.
Although the Sun was high in the sky, the air was frigid and cold. Even the heat that normally radiated from the sands failed to do so, as if an invisible fog was slowly rolling through, chilling everything ever so slightly. Frostfall was on its way, and with it, the departure of the Sun. But the Sun was not gone yet.
As the dun flew, he didn't see a single patrol watching the skies. Sure, the Throat was busy enough down below - mares and foals trotting about, a few lounging by the Oasis, more simply strolling carrying on conversations - but not a single military presence was seen. It was just as the Sun God had said: under the direction of Sohalia and Africa, the Throat had fallen from its privileged place of might and reverence. Did they believe themselves to be safe down below? Why? Because a few words had passed from the lips of liars? Because trinkets had been exchanged? Words were forgotten and tokens of peace broken and discarded. He wondered if many of them had even been around for the last Invasion. Or the one before that. Or before that. Gaucho thought not.
Lowering himself onto the sands with an uncanny grace for a creature of his size, Gaucho let forth a loud bellow. His black wings - burning harmlessly - fanned from his sides in either direction, increasing how large he appeared to be. Other than Hector, he had been the largest in the Throat. Did the same still hold? Grinning, he wondered. The spiked collar around his chest was bloody from Aurelia's tattered body; blood, that he hadn't bother to wash off yet. It had served as a reminder up until now.
Gaucho looked the same as he had when he had left, save for one defining feature: The antlers that magical bloomed from his skull, were now branded with the mark of the Sun. Glowing symbols cascading down his tines, in a language that the beast had no knowledge of. Still, the markings were not meant for his mind to comprehend. They were placed there for everyone else to see, as a reminder for who Gaucho fought for: The Sun God.
He had to admit that it was comfortable to have a place to return to, even if it wasn't his home. For all that the desert isle was different from his usual woodland refuges, the shaded Oasis with its lush grass and clean water provided a sensation of warm welcoming that was nothing short of luxurious for someone so used to the rough life on the road. The simple fact that he didn't have to keep an eye open even while sleeping felt like a blessing, and between having a job to do and getting to stay close to Tandavi and Amaris, the grullo felt quite at ease in the southernmost herd. It felt good to be a guest, to care only for himself and his own work and not having to think about things like foreign relations, border patrols and the like. He knew that the herd had grown smaller, considerably weaker than it had been before the plague when Dragon's Throat had been the strongest and closest ally of the World's Edge and the Qian, but for once it wasn't his job to change this.
It was irresponsible, of course, but why should a vagrant lone wolf like himself care? No one had asked for his help, his opinion didn't mean much and unless asked to, Lace had decided to keep his nose to himself and mind his own business. Feeling rebellious and blissful he roamed the desert with the dragon by his side, admiring the arid grandeur of the landscape while relishing the cooler weather that brought such reprieve from the usual heat. The winter coat had begun to grow out, making him shed in tufts that made the usually sleek appearance seem ragged and puffy; it was only as it should be though, nothing a minor annoyance in a time of uncommon peace and tranquility.
Sweeping the horizon with lazy curiosity, he eventually notice a shadow on the sky that looked too big to be a bird. Feeling mildly intrigued Lace watched as it grew larger, turning from a speck to a misshaped cloud into something that could only be a pegasus, a big, heavy horse dyed in black and brown. He couldn't remember seeing this particular individual before and began to draw closer, in no way fast or with any great purpose; he would hang back and let someone from the herd come greet this person, whether friend or foe. Maybe then he would join in, exchange names and courtesies - he wouldn't mind making new acquaintances today.
08-23-2014, 05:14 PM (This post was last modified: 08-23-2014, 05:34 PM by Hector.)
No Time for Lies and Empty Fights
100%
The Dragon’s Throat army was in tatters, sure; a shadow of once former glory, but it had not been entirely abandoned. The sinewy body of a great soldier rippled beneath the wilting heat of a lesser Orangemoon sun as it wheeled on high through spiralling thermals, scanning the territory below with a diligent, scrupulous eye. He had spent many hours patrolling since the God of the Sun had bid their return to His realm; many more than the standard half-day of previous years, but with so few to share the responsibility of watching borders, Hector had assumed the extra work without question. In recent weeks- since the decree of peace and the appearance of Sky Island, there had been few visitors, and the only threat had been a group of adolescent lions sent swiftly on their way.
Weariness tingled through each powerful stroke of his enormous wingspan, but his determination and tireless work-ethic quickly numbed that plaguing fatigue- no other was available to step up if he resigned to take his leave from duty. Veci had been an enormous, unlikely, help lately. Where one body could patrol only a sliver of the desert below, their bound minds though separate entities were capable of surveying a great deal more in the same amount of time. It was quite handy in fact, and that became quickly apparent when a vision infiltrated the stallion’s mind as they sailed far apart.
A stallion had entered Dragon’s Throat, but Hector noticed readily that it was the Wildfire (thought lost to the hungry wraiths of last Frostfall), and adrenaline rapidly flooded his bloodstream. Brillant Veci, he praised, ever grateful that the Boggart had set aside his mischievous nature for the better of the herd who lounged below. Copper, glistening wings realigned quickly, diverting the stallion’s course to where Gaucho had landed- and even before he swooped down to join the former Sultan, his antlered comrade’s bellow was booming through the vast open desert. There was another nearby who Hector had not directly met, but word travelled quickly and he knew the Lace had been welcomed as a guest of the Throat; that his very reason for coming was by instruction of their Lord.
Bright eyes gathered across the stark, new, glowing markings fashioned against the branches of the other’s rack of antlers. They shone brightly as the sun above touched them, and even when Gaucho’s skull shifted and they fell briefly beneath shadow, they were radiant, burning. "Hail, Wildfire! Praise the Sun for your return." Hector saluted his desert brother fondly, wings bursting upwards; neck curling down and away to lower his chin in a show of respect and mutual adoration for the cause they both so passionately served.
• Dragon's Throat Rank Experience: Fortify | Level 3
• Permission given for moderate power play, magical influence and damage at all times
The dun's blue-gray gaze fell distantly upon the grullo. The stallion had not advanced to a distance that would suggest he meant to speak or comment on Gaucho's arrival, but it was close enough for his presence to be known. Scanning him with an efficient primal calculus, the WildFire noted the odd markings upon Lace's back. Clearly made by the Sun, the dun wondered why they had been issued. As a punishment? Or as a brand, much like his own markings, glowing brightly upon his antlers? Before his mind could further consider this, a shadow fell across the sands, directing his gaze upwards.
Hector.
Of course his comrade would be the first to join him - if any were left, it would surely be the great tribrid. A sincere grin broken Gaucho's dark muzzle at the arrival of the orange giant. "Gaezo." Turning his blue-striped shoulders to gaze upon the horned face of his brother, the Wildfire smiled openly. Curling his neck slightly, he meant to touch his now-glowing antlers against the horns of the tribrid in greeting. "Hec-tor. Gaucho glad to see you. We see no other patrols in sky - Gaucho thought maybe all warriors gone. Good to see that not so."
In truth, he was glad to have seen Hector first. Had others appeared, the notion that the strength of the Throat was gone, might have been solidified. As it stood, if his presence did not go unnoticed by those in the skies, then there might be hope left for the Throat.
"Gaucho glad to be back in Throat. Glad to be home" He admitted, folding his flame-tipped wings against his dark flanks. His gaze flickered over Hector's shoulder, still regarding the distant stallion with wariness. But he trusted enough in his brother that should the burned stallion not be welcome, he tribrid would have dealt with him before beginning his greeting.
Sure enough, even as he approached the dark stallion, a sound of feathered wings announced the arrival of yet another pegasus just in time. Lace recognized the large red soldier from the fight against the lions at the end of Tallsun - though, as they had been fairly busy with more important things back then, he hadn't had a chance to catch his name. Perhaps this was as good a time to remedy this as any then, it felt important to maintain proper etiquette and stay on good terms with the locals.
Lace hung back on a respectful distance while the two massive horses exchanged their greetings, feeling slightly out of place and awkward as though he was intruding on something private. It wasn't hard to recognize the bond between comrades in arms, he had held the same connection to others in the past, especially when he was young. But ever since he came to Helovia he had done his best to step away from the path of the warrior, he had pursued other goals and tried to learn new crafts and skills... Part of him always wondered, especially when coming upon friendships like these, whether it had been the right choice. Had his decision to let his skills come in decline and the strength wane been for the better, despite all that had happened? Would some of his friends and kin have been alive today if he'd stayed the knight, the soldier, the mercenary for hire?
Such thoughts were rather useless however, and as he noticed the glance thrown in his direction by the bay Lace did his best to set them aside. Meeting the gaze of the stag he advanced towards them at a walk, head held low and tail swaying quietly behind the hocks. It was quite the daunting feeling to walk towards two stallions of such impressive build. All of a sudden he felt very aware of his own diminished stature, the noticeable slack of muscle tone and shabby state of the coat; while in no way out of shape, compared to these towering mountains of flesh he felt very, sorely lacking.
"Well met" he greeted once on speaking distance from the two, the tone casual and face impassive despite the turmoil that went on inside. "I'm Lace, a guesting craftsman. My companion is Fajira." He inclined the head to each horse in turn, offering the chestnut a recognizing smile in addition when turning to him.
Meanwhile the dragon settled on her usual perch along his whithers, her attention split between a pale snake that curled in the antlers of the bay and something, Lace wasn't sure what, that she insisted on was nearby but couldn't be seen. Whatever it was made her nervous enough to keep shifting the weight between taloned paws, unable to settle enough to let the wings fold fully to the sides. The grullo didn't turn to look at her, instead expressing his curiosity through the bond; she didn't have time to answer him though, so he was left with a fiddly, tickling sense of unease that was uncomfortably similar to fright - all the more annoying because it wasn't his own emotion.
The strange clunk of ivory and bone resonated through the open, rising above the grunt of masculine breath, waving feathers- the prestige of two warrior stallions, though Hector made no effort to surpass his far grander company. For the moment the chestnut stallion chuckled only at the suggestion that no other patrol had been noticed; he was not surprised by this, nor was he proud of their weak, neglected defence. He knew well that such a revelation would not please this stallion's ear. There had been many changes to Dragon’s Throat since Gaucho’s leave, but he was a faithful soul and doubted not the decisions of their God. For one reason or another, Africa the Starry-Eyed and the pristine dove Sohalia, had been set upon the desert throne, and though he did not entirely agree with much of their direction, Hector served them dutifully; always in honour of the Sun.
As the Wildfire’s wings folded, so too did Hector’s in unison, feathers ruffling to straighten and rest more comfortably by his flinching rust-red barrel. "Your return is a blessing..." he suggested, the statement pregnant still with meaning unspoken. He couldn’t help but wonder what this meant for the mares at the herd’s head; those who worked tirelessly no doubt, but with little affect as it were. Bright, burning eyes danced between the dark gaze of the other stallion, pensively distant, unaware that Gaucho was watching the grulla who by then had begun his approach.
‘Well met...’
The voice behind Hector roused his attention and pulled him clear of his thoughts. Towering hips swung left to grant the stallion, the guest of the Sun, better access to the conversation, while neat copper, cupped ears flicked curiously towards him above the subtle ripple of wind-touched, silken mane. The stranger’s stance was low, his unusually marked face without noteworthy expression, and the soldier greeted him (and the dragon, Fajira) with a nonchalant bob of his slender skull and slight trace of a welcoming smile- he was not well practiced for these social encounters; his skills lay chiefly on the battlefield. He said nothing though, instead by nature of the relationship so deeply forged between the Wildfire and himself, waiting first for the antlered one to speak.
As eyes wandered silently around the web to the centre the other’s face, the copper giant realised that they had fought together when the lions had descended upon the oasis and the lingering smile evolved a little further as lips twitched thoughtfully.
• Dragon's Throat Rank Experience: Fortify | Level 3
• Permission given for moderate power play, magical influence and damage at all times
When she thought about the WildFire, and she did so more than she cared to admit, it was generally in regards to their lack of strength. Oh, they were well enough, she supposed - but they were certainly not prepared for any sort of battle or invasion. Although all had been peaceful across Helovia, she had been blinded by the seeming of tranquility before, and she knew that this could very well be the calm before the storm. It was not that she did not want to show their strength - no, she very much wanted to prove the Dragon's Throat to be the best, the strongest, the smartest. She simply didn't know how.
She could guide, and she could teach. She could hold her own in situations of diplomacy and negotiation. The one thing, it seemed, that she could not do was fight. She was a peaceful mare, inclined to talk over problems before it came to blows. She had never been trained in the fighting arts, nor had she wanted to be - particularly not after her childhood trauma. But now, knowing what she knew and having seen what she'd seen, she wished that she had made an attempt to grow, to be a well-rounded individual that was as capable on the battlefield as she was in the council chamber.
When she had come across Gaucho in his memory-deprived state, she had been hopeful that he would return to the Dragon's Throat and assist in developing their military. She knew that she was lacking; she simply didn't know how to fix it herself, so she thought to enlist an expert. That meeting didn't quite go as planned. But here he was again, waltzing across the border as though he belonged (which, obviously, he did), as though he were here to take control once more.
She couldn't blame him for his comfort - after all, this was his home as well as it was hers - but she was afraid that he had come to denounce her leadership and her authority, for she doubted that he viewed her as a competent Sultana. She was not fierce, she was not mighty, she was not a warrior; and no matter how badly she wanted to avoid this initial meeting, it was her duty as Sultana to greet him, to welcome him home - her own feelings for him and for the situation be damned. So she went forward, a smile on her face and wariness hidden in her mind. Hector and Lace had preceded her, and she easily edged her way into the small group. "And so you've returned," she greeted him. "Welcome home."
The dun's ears flickered slightly at the comment. Not in tune with the depth of meaning the tribrid had in mind, Gaucho interpreted it as being a much simpler and more obvious statement. Nodding his newly branded horns he agreed. "Yes. Sun God is good." He wouldn't yet assume which side the tribrid's allegiances lay, but he did know that the orange giant revered the Sun just as much as He. In that, they would always be brothers, and carry out the will of the Sun.
As Lace approached and Hector's large frame moved to grant him access to their conversation, the dun quickly sized him up. He didn't appear to be much - smaller in stature, without clear defined muscle lines, and an equine. However the accompaniment of the dragon and the branding of the sun....well, that certainly was interesting. Did he have hidden powers, such that he might be a formidable opponent? In his antlers, Mara hissed gently, uneasily. The last dragon she had seen - Tinek - had tried to throw her off a cliff. Gaucho bobbed his glowing antlers to silence the creature, and nodded firmly to the grullo. What a pair Hector and Gaucho must have looked - two awkward giants, unable to offer a satisfactory greeting. But they were creatures of the battlefield, baptized in blood and death. The role of net-worker was surely one that was foreign to both.
As Sohalia appeared, the WildFire noticeably stiffened. Would she be cross with him? Their last meeting had ended rather abruptly, and, given that it had occured in his memory-devoid state, she was likely to have questions. However rather than taking the role of slighted lover, she appeared to easily move into lofty monarch. Given Hector and Lace's proximity perhaps it was all for show, but even if it was, Gaucho was glad of it. He hadn't necessarily wanted his return to the Throat to be heralded by a lovers spat. That wasn't the type of fighting he enjoyed.
"Sun God say you are Sultana now." He offered, stormy gray gaze regarded her gently, although his voice was level and respectful. The internal struggle one might have supposed he was waging - whether or not to acknowledge the title of one who he must clearly think so undeserving - was in fact not occurring. The Sun had placed her in the position she now held; that didn't mean the Sun wouldn't be alright if someone took it away....But for now, her title would be respected by the beast. Gaucho lowered his pierced muzzle to his shoulder respectfully. "Gaucho return, Sultana."
Her heart fluttered unsteadily in her chest as she noted the way he stiffened when she came into view. So he had his memories back, then. Did he remember her weakness? Had he truly come to dislike her so that he did not even enjoy her presence? She remembered the way he used to look at her - granted, it was pure lust, but at least it was an appreciative gaze rather than this new, wary look. It pained her, but she refused to give in to her emotions. Not now, when members of her herd (and, oddly, an outsider) looked on.
Did he expect her to be angry? Was that why he regarded her with such neutrality? He had left her for Ampere, that was true - but that had been so long ago, and she was a different mare now. She had grown, blossomed, bloomed into her new position to find that she, the wallflower from nowhere, liked to lead, liked the responsibility and the duties and the awareness that came with leadership. And she could not be angry with him, not anymore - not after giving up on him, only to have him find her once more, and love her, despite his lack of memory.
Besides, she had never been one to hold onto grudges.
"I am," she agreed, meeting his eyes squarely. Something about his deference made her feel stronger than before, and calmer. She would not back down, would not allow him to walk all over her, would not depend on him or any other stallion for praise and reassurance. Had she not proven herself better than that? Stronger? "Gaucho return, Sultana." She smiled again. "Good," she replied. "It's about time." There was a note of amusement in her vocals, and the gentility of her voice showed her pleasure.
"We could use more warriors. It is my pleasure to welcome you home - with one condition." She paused, keeping her tone light and conversational. "You must teach me how to fight."
"Talk talk talk."
[OOC | Skipping to move this along...]
@[Gaucho]
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