"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.
Tomorrow
All Will Be Known
And You're Not Alone
So Don't Be Afraid
Of The Dark And Cold
Ching...Tink...Cling. Every footstep is heralded by the ringing of bells and the soft crunch/squish of half-thawed snow and earth. Mud squished underhoof, cold and rather disgusting. But i paid it no heed, i've traveled through worse things than the slush that filled this forest. The cold gunk under my feet was a mere inconvenience that was hardly even noticed.
Gradually a tinkling filled the air. But this was not the chime of my bells, nay. T'was the sound of water gurgling nearby, merry as can be. But as i near, the sweet gurgle grew to more of a hissing rush, and i pause before what must have been a little creek at some point, but was now a full-fledged...stream. I approach the bank, dipping my feet in the rushing water to try and get some of the mud off of my hooves as i drop my head to drink. Water, cool and crisp and sweet soothes an ache in my throat i did not realize i had, quenching my thirst.
But it was cold, and i dared not drink my full fill, not when the nights were still so chilly. It had been morning when i left the...Threshold? I believe that is what Spice had called it. But now it was late evening, the sun hung low in the sky, skimming the horizon. I'd need to find a place to bed down soon enough, but there was still time a plenty to see what this meadow had to offer.
For i was indeed in a field, dried thistle plants and other such weeds filling the large space, choking the ground and preventing all but the hardiest of trees from growing. It was one such grouping of trees that i headed towards; they looked to provide cover, and with some touching up, would be a good place to rest. I near the trees and pause, frowning faintly. The ground is torn up near here, hoofprints scattered around the area. I was no tracker, thus could not begin to guess what had happened here, but i thought it best to move on lest whomever this was come back.
I sigh gently, the wind sending my bells into a flurry of sound that brought a smile to my face. Ah, the sound of home. I wonder at times if i'd have gone mad without my bells to remind me that i was a being of flesh and blood, not one of the heroes of my stories. I wait for the wind to finish her play, then turn and gaze around the meadow for another place to rest.
I found myself walking in the Thistle Meadow, ambling with no particular purpose except to clear my head and not think so much about.. life. I don't want to think about the drama of Africa's absence, I don't want to think about stealths and Hotaru's continual attempts to steal from the Throat, nor the change in leadership of the Throat and the new bridge that Gaucho has proposed. I do not want to think much about any of those things, especially Africa. Instead, I hope to escape thought entirely and lose myself in the simplicity of the world without population.
As soon as I think those thoughts, they are disturbed by some strange sort of jingling and clinking. I pin my ears and my red eyes flash in the direction of the noise. I see someone by the river which overflows with the recently melted snow of Frostfall. The shape - a dark unicorn at first glance - moves away toward a clump of trees, opposite of my direction. It moves on, somehow dissuaded by the area it had found, and continues pursuing perhaps a place to rest. I walk after the form, annoyed at the disruption and intending to pursue and resolve it as I see fit.
I near him - for it is a he - and I see that it is he that jingles. Bells decorate him and with little movement he makes sound. It might be beautiful if I hadn't been seeking quiet. His body is dark with highlights of blue in his darker mane and tail, and his horn is a unique shape of its own. I continue following him and snort my presence, wondering if he shall stop to address his .. stalker? "Why must you be so noisy this morning?" Why must I be so grouchy? Because of all the reasons I've been seeking quiet and solace in nature. That's why.
Tomorrow
All Will Be Known
And You're Not Alone
So Don't Be Afraid
Of The Dark And Cold
When i turn my head, i spy movement out of the corner of my eyes. It's a pegasus, ebony-coated with the wings of a bat. Unusual, but not a new sight. My lips part to offer the dark stallion a greeting, but he beats me to the punch. "Why must you be so noisy this morning?" I pause, surprised before frowning faintly. "I am 'noisy' every morn. I've long since grown used to it, friend. May i ask what put you in such a mood?" I turn to face the other, bells chiming.
I suppose, with some thought into it, i should have threaded the bells through my mane rather than my horn. They would chime less... but there was a reason they graced my horn. I had never given it a single thought...until now. Were my bells annoying to others? I suppose...it could be. "My pardons, i never thought about my bells being annoying to others." I duck my head, grimacing slightly at the loud pinging. "My name is Kvothe, and yours?"
I look over this bat-winged pegasus, bi-color eyes examining him. His scent... it is hard-baked, of sun and sand and salt. Like Rei and Spice both. Curious now, i wait patiently for the grand grump to speak, my face polite... but i couldn't hide the twitch of my lips as i fought back a grin as i tilt my head, purposely jarring my bells to action. It was childish, but i couldn't be bothered. After all, this man had broken quite a few courtesies by being so...well rude.
12-21-2014, 11:01 PM (This post was last modified: 12-21-2014, 11:01 PM by Satanic Silk.)
At first, the ridiculous brute seems apologetic for pestering me with his noise, and I can see that the idea that his bells could be obnoxious had never occurred to him. Absolutely ridiculous. His words answer much the same. I chuckle, finding the idea amusing. What could possibly have put me in a grouchy mood? Should I answer or keep that to myself, I wonder. The other stag's rebuke and good manners has left me feeling that perhaps I am being rather rude, and that maybe I should make a little more effort to be cordial. I bow my head with a brief apology. "You're right, I apologize for my rudeness.. Kvothe." I am still grouchy at having been bothered, but the jingling that comes from his horns - which I notice he has started to do more and purposefully - is not as obnoxious as it could be. The bells aren't ginormous, but smaller and they tink more than they clang.
"My name is Satanic Silk. Silk for short." He has apologized for disturbing me.. I suppose I can grow up a little and at least explain my grouchiness. "I have been seeking quiet rest for awhile now, to get away from the drama that seems to follow me. The meadow was providing that." I put slight emphasis on the 'was', but not too much so as to not be too rough on the fellow. I watch the bluish grey fellow, wondering if he will accept my apology courteously. A moment passes, leaving room for his response, before I probe a little of my own. "What brings you here to the meadow?"
“I walk a Path few may follow. I walk the Path of the Observer, of the Writer, of the Teller.
I walk the path of the Bard.”
His apology makes me feel a tad bit of guilt, and i still myself, my bells only chiming now 'er the wind blows through them, stirring them to motion. Satanic Silk, he calls himself. A queer name, but i am not one to judge. When he laces his words with a point none could miss, i give a faint shrug. "I do not mean to disturb your rest, but i believe bird song is far louder than my own bells. If you come seeking peace and quiet, then there is no place on this earth where you shall be deprived of sound."
The topic flows, turned around to me and my doings here. "Wandering, friend. I go where the wind blows me to. But for now, i too am seeking a place of rest, only for me it is rest for the night." I look around the meadow, my tail curling around one of my hind legs. "For when the sun rises i shall move on." I look to him, mismatched eyes alight with curiousity now. "Tell me, are you a wanderer as well? Or do you belong to a herd?"
I felt like i knew the answer already; the dark stallion smelled of dried earth and sweat and salt. The same scent, albeit gentler, that Spice had carried, and she had claimed to hail from a Throat herd. My curiousity was piqued now, if this man was from the same herd as Spice, i would be amused. In my travels so far i'd only met two folk, and both from the same herd... were the rest elusive?
Kvothe does accept my apology, and without much fuss. He makes an interesting remark, as if politely reminding me of my foolishness to think that I could ever escape sound entirely. I don't suppose that had been my goal, but you know, the idea is charming... To be in a void where at least one sense seems to be entirely removed. I wonder. I ask my question of wondering why he has come to the meadow. Wandering? Well, many of us wander - this seems so vague and yet it remains a valid answer. He mentions finding a place of rest and I am filled with amusement as I picture the two of us curled up together under the soft moonlight, using each other as bedtime teddy bears. It's a ridiculous notion - surely both of us are above such childish behavior. And yet... my heart has been so weighed down by Africa that it's rather appealing. Not that I would engage in such behavior or admit the thoughts to anyone.. ever.
His return question draws me from the strange mental image that lurks in my mind. I am no wanderer. I think. I have been doing more wandering than usual lately, so I suppose it would not be untrue to say that I am. Except that the 'or' he provides is more correct. "I am of the Dragon's Throat. A sleuth." There is no pride or arrogance, just simple facts. "Though, I have also called the Hidden Falls home at one time." I pause and watch him for moment. "Do you wander for lack of finding a suitable home, or because the wind is your only true calling?" Too personal for a first date?
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