"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.
10-27-2014, 04:30 PM (This post was last modified: 10-27-2014, 04:41 PM by Midas.)
Snow covered everything, I’d never so much of it before. In the desert it hardly snowed more than an inch or so – and even then it was usually a slushy mixture of sleet and rain. A frostfall sun would melt all signs of winter the next day if our atmosphere was fair and clear. Yar, in the desert it had been cold at night but mild during the day. In the mountains we were nestled by a valley, the chilling air is a constant reminder that our bodies are fragile. Sickness came and went. Perhaps it was a blessing that our clan was smallish, food had become hard to find. What did grow beneath the white blanket was brown, half rotten and tasteless.
I ate roots mostly and forged for winter moss near the entrance and beyond the cliffs as far south as my territory would allow. Trees leaned with layers and layers of snow and ice coating their branches. It was dead world we ruled over. A white world with nothing in it save for the occasional snow hare or desperate fox. At least frostfall brought a sense of peace. The other tribes had fallen silent, they also dealt with the fray of jack frosts cruel grasp.
Those signs of danger and ill fate we’d received during the early part of this season had stopped. No more living moss, no more frogs or flesh eating worms – for a short time we would be able to breathe a little. Or perhaps that was my naïve hope tricking this mind into believing that our family would be safe.
Fina soared overhead, eyes scanning the ground for signs of life. Her talons are empty and have been for days – she is hungry and urgently hunting. I watch from a thicket, pawing at frozen earth in an attempt to find bitter tuber roots to munch on. It took effort to maintain my current weight and health.
Near us both is a little egg that I’d been watching over. It sat pretty on a bed of moss and soft things that I’d gathered together – being born of winter the egg didn’t seem to mind its environment or the chilling waves of air that brushed across the breakable shell. There were little sounds coming from the egg, tiny sounds that my ears couldn’t register.
OOC: I wasn't sure if I should mark this random event or not ^^; But this is my hatching thread <333
I had come flailing-- a galloping mess of hooves and flesh. My gait was uneven, my eyes stung as the cold wind pelted against my moist corneas. My hair waved in a tangled not behind me, but I didn't care about that now. I had a mission. This mission was assigned from a god... Yes, that means it's a big one. I scan the area in front of me, and there he is. It's Midas. A high-pitched whinny that still sounded velvety and rich could only be mine. I slid to a halt near him, snow flying everywhere as I attempt a not-so-graceful halt. "Midas!" I exclaim with an urgency, failing to notice the egg due to my determination to not fail my mission.
"I have urgent news, brother!" I try to calm myself down, but I'm breathing hard from my rather fast-paced gallop. A thin layer of sweat ha already beaded itself onto my gold coat, making me look more sorrel flaxen than anything. I blink a few times, trying to relax my wide-eyed expression. The weather has worn on my condition, I am no longer in shape-- and that's a brutal thing to realize. I lack muscle, and there is a slight rib-cage outline and my hip bone is protruding more so than normal. I just have to remind myself... it's Frostfall.
"I just spoke with the Earth God. He has told me much about a recent loss the Throat has dealt with, Midas," I say slowly as I begin to regain composure. I am both happy I have a mission, confused as to why there has been a murder, and still unsure how I managed to find Midas so quickly.
“Midas.” That little voice is quiet in my mind, but I sense an edge of urgency in her tone. Honeyed pools shift up, questionably staring into the overcast sky; searching, scanning, before finally settling on a glowing frame gliding low below cloud cover. “Drom. She moves fast.” Being a predator bird, Fina was born with raptor eyes. A boon to us both. My crown angles toward the direction she gave through visual memory. It wasn’t moments later that Drom came charging through the trees, mane array and likely tangled with heavens knows what. I flinch as a wave of snow comes flying. Concern and the brief flicker of fear comes flying forefront. Ivory feathers flash from my sides out of instinct to protect the fragile shell which was mine to guard. They closed a mere second before a mess of caked sleet and mud comes toppling toward my egg. The sludge lands on pinions instead, coating them in a cold layer of slush.
Narrowed gaze rises to that blond frame, a warm mist is rising from her pelt. Sweat. She’d been running hard. The wide look in her soft eyes removes any right I might have for being cross at how she very nearly crushed a life. What in heaven’s name is going on now? I wondered grimly, withdrawing and shaking free the mud from my appendages as our Storyteller regains her breath. Her announcement catches my attention.
Brows narrow further, furrowing deeply as her news hits me like a rock across the skull. The throat had suffered a loss? Anxiety tightens my throat and draws my words out slowly, tightly, “What loss?” Was my family in danger? Cera. Ranjiri.
My little Grandcolt. Africa? A dozen individuals flash through my mind. I feel helpless again. Just as I’d been helpless to stop that bloody stallion from sinking his horn in Cera’s chest.
10-30-2014, 09:28 PM (This post was last modified: 10-31-2014, 06:29 AM by Dröm.)
Midas, as I approach, shields something from flurries I have just sent out. What does he shield so carefully? Did I miss something? I will have to find out later, for now important business is occurring. The Czar is silent, but I continue to speak as I attempt to calm down. With furrowed brows, the painted stallion listens. I assume he is eager and worried to hear what I am too say, and who I am to announce deceased. I remember meeting the one-winged mare from the Throat, and also Rei. Where they hurt? The gray mate was not one I had grown close to, but the Appaloosa Pegasus was a dear friend of mine and I know wonder who has died.
"Father said that a young mare of the Dragin's Throat was killed in some supernatural way and that her body rests on the Caela Insula, where it seems she was plucked from the sky. He made no predictions as to what will happen, for he does not know how much nor how strong this darkness is. He suggested we take a few herd members that are eager to help and investigate." I paused for a moment, glad I've told Midas now. I have something else to focus on now... Who is dead, and who has murdered her?
I am fearful of the darkness. Will it come and devour us? Will we be turned into mortifying zombies? I am only mortal, I crash and fall down. Darkness will just be a knife to the lung. We will die easily if the gods themselves don't even know how deep the darkness is. none of us pose a real threat to darkness. We fall ill easily, die easily, and hardly survive. "I know I should be strong, but I'm scared." I confessed quietly as my gaze shifted to the side slightly. The white powder was not as interesting as another horses face, but I don't find it easy to open up about my fears. I quickly begin speaking up, as if I had never said anything. "Shall we investigate?" I inquired curiously, my gaze timidly finding his. "I feel as though we shouldn't wait. When should we go?"
11-02-2014, 03:50 PM (This post was last modified: 11-02-2014, 03:59 PM by Muriel.)
It isn't the most respectable way she could have stumbled upon their little meeting, but Muriel had been joyously floating through the snow, flicking it up with her dual wings to shower in cold flurries upon her back. There is no fear of the darkness, for she is unaware it exists at all. Instead, she attempts to cure her loneliness through the thick drifts of snow, shaking and flicking her hooves, rolling and crash-landing playfully until the chill erases the lonesomeness. Compared to the mentality of others, her joy was benthic, too deep to comprehend. Every day was a gift because she was alive to greet it, so why should she despair?
The snow had inveigled her to play, to emerge from her solitary existence and at least attempt to mingle. Nobody really knew her, the only one who could likely recall her name was her Czar. Long ago she had been a sociable creature, living and breathing the companionship of everyone around her. Often, whether they liked her or not. But since departing from Janat, since she'd sworn herself to Leliel's side...she had lost all of that. Friendless, herdless, and loveless...had it been the right choice to make? Without Leliel there to remind her why she loved him, if she had a reason at all beyond girlish infatuation, she had begun doubting herself more and more.
Her luck coming upon the only herd member she knew was ridiculous, truly. But her excited floundering suddenly had purpose, and she practically danced on elegant rose limbs towards her Czar and another nameless mare, as faceless and foreign to her as the kin she tried so hard to get to know. She approaches behind the mare that rushes past her, garnering Muriel's attention in the first place. Midas snapping his wing forth creases her brow in worry, recognizing the action. Her mother had done it when pushy stallions and colts had pressured her as a filly, shielding her away with a fierceness only a mother could summon.
"Midas?" she spoke softly, seeking his eyes, his guidance and friendship. Is everything okay? What's going on? Simultaneously hoping she was not intruding, though her ears could not help but catch the information flying like sprayed sand from the other maiden's lips. Her heart did a dive into the hollows of her breast, sorrow flickering over her slim, pretty features. Helplessly she edges towards Midas, wishing she'd had more time to train, she'd hardly lifted a single hoof in sparring as she'd promised to attempt. The damsel's confession is probably too personal for someone like Muriel to hear, but she does not feel the guilt as easily as others. Frankness was one of her strongest qualities, after all.
Extending her topmost right wing, Muriel hoped to gently brush the mare's flank in a gesture of comfort and reassurance. Warmth and support glittered in her lavender eyes, pinned entirely on this complete stranger, seeking to give her strength. "There can be no courage without fear," Muriel stated, her voice soft and sure with a small but sincere smile pulling her pale pink lips. She turned her bare crown between the two, feeling like an intruder despite being a technical citizen of the Falls. "I will go, Midas. I know I'm new...but I want to help." The surety was nearly staggering, coming from a whimsical, capricious girl such as she. But there were a lot of qualities that people didn't care to discover about Muriel, and family was one of them.
As the conversation died she began hopefully searching the skies, feeling a little awkward stumbling into such an important conversation, clearly one not meant for her own ears. "Is Fina around?" she asked eagerly, ears pricking and hooves shuffling excitedly in place, awaiting the beautiful bird she'd fallen in love with. Completely enamored and intrigued by the magical companion.
A familiar and delightful rose looped through the trees; her body splendid and moist from snow. She is an unnatural contrast against this pale world. That unique woman looked more suitable for the glow of Birdsong instead of this dead season we called, Frostfall. Golden gaze turned to her, aged by trouble and lacking the same youthful warmth she so easily relinquished. I greet those gentle eyes with a nod of acknowledgement, friendly but formal. Sadly I couldn’t be forced in this moment to change features from their worried disposition as our storyteller continued and the pit in my belly grew to a gaping void.
Drom rehashed her visitation with Earth and explained that it was a mare from Dragon’s Throat that had died in some unnatural way. Plucked from heaven? A young girl? She gave no physical description and though there are many women living in the desert, like all fathers I thought the worst and instantly began to fear that my little Ranjiri had somehow become involved. Frown dipped deeper but I voiced nothing of this concern.
Our storyteller is distraught and fearful, Muriel offers comfort through words and a gentle touch. I watch this exchange quietly; absently tightening ivory and gold appendages against my fleshy barrel, “Ye has done well,” my tone is soft and rewarding, but I didn’t and wouldn’t comfort or chaste her admission of fear,“Muriel speaks truth. Take a moment and find thee resolve.” Hearing such dreaded news was likely that thing that shook her courage. Drom wasn’t some weak thing, neither was the mare which stood close by.
“Aye,” I replied to both girls, “I will muster a clutch of soldiers,” gaze shifted to Muriel, one brow raised as I considered her offer. If my answer was no then the woman would likely travel ahead anyways. At least within my company and that of warriors, she’d stand a greater chance at arriving and returning safely. “Aye,”I said after a pause, “Ye may travel with us.” Attention returned to Drom, “Same to ye.”
In reply to another question Fina came soaring down from the trees. Having listened in through our link and decided to abandon sleep for the sake of another adventure. Her flaming wings warmed the air, creating ripples. Talons collided against my patchwork pelt, sinking gently into flesh.
______________________________________________________________________________
Nature would continue to play a part in this fateful day. The egg. Which had been waiting so patiently to reveal the little gift inside was ready to hatch. It gently swayed against the moss and snow, flitting back and forth. Tiny sounds became more urgent with each passing moment. A small hammering sound could be heard from within the shell, as if something was knocking.
I finally caught wind of the noise and glanced down to see the first piece fall away, a small chip that revealed an inner miracle that was fixing to take place. For a second everything was silent, the egg stopped moving and all was quiet. Was it resting? A moment passed and the quiet was vanquished with more knocking and rocking.
Fina touched my mind nervously.
The company of the pink mare is appreciated. Though hesitant at first, the comfort of her feathered appendages is reassuring. I can do this. I have to do this. No courage with out fear? Her words are wise, yet I, the five year old storyteller, comprehends them. Midas' words are soon thrust into the air, but there is no true comfort in them. He is a quiet stallion, I figure. To me, he is law. He is not tyrannical-- not warm and fuzzy. He is the very image of a leader. Had I made him out to be something he isn't? I thought he was an open book, waiting for his pages to be read. I wanted so badly to flip the page-- his page. To read the words that are most likely written in a faraway language. But he is no open book-- he is a diary. A lock rests on this diary, allowing no one to read. Is that what the Earth God had meant when speaking to him and I? The cold stone lock needs removal. This is what I have understood, at least.
"Should we warn the herd and gather a few others willing to help?" I inquired softly, still pondering the whole book-Midas metaphor. The pink lady asks for Fina, and Fina comes. She is a galore of reds and oranges dancing through the cold air. She is grace and beauty, her movements beautiful and infallible. She is a Phoenix, a thing to be feared and adored. She lands on her bonded's back. Her talons hold onto flesh, sinking each dagger softly into supple skin. She is delicate, for there is no blood. She has probably landed on him millions of times. I would be rather nervous having a companion of such caliber on my back. If she sneezes, will fire spew from her beak and nostrils, burning the very fur off of Midas' back?
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