"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.
She harbours a sword within her unquiet roaring heart,
Everything was falling apart. Her once bright world was darkening day by day with everyone she held dear being pulled from her side. The filly spent most of her time wandering aimlessly through the Basin’s lands. All the while impatiently waiting for them to rally the troops and go out to retrieve her mother from wherever she was taken to. Arya walked with her head drooping and her mind warding of thoughts of her near death. In her silence she saw the form of the hot springs appear. She remained still and contemplated whether it was a bath she wanted. I probably could use it, she thought to herself.
Slowly she trotted toward the spring. Much to her delight, no other lurked in the pool so she helped herself to the warm waters. Grime and filth rose from her pelt. She stared at it all with a hollow expression. The huntress would then lower the rest of her body, taking in one large gasp of air. She blew while she was briefly under. When she surfaced she gasped and gave a violent shake. Water droplets went flying off her body and the short strands stuck to her neck.
Ever since that stallion struck a blow across her neck, the huntress pondered her own mortality. Why hadn’t she fallen then and there? Even though she was young, Arya knew what meant life or death. Stories had made it clear enough that a slit throat was a death sentence. Yet she still stood and seemed to be the only one alarmed by the fact death hadn’t touched her. She walked to the edge of the pool and gave out a sigh as she rested her chin upon the edge of the pool.
[ @[Rhiannon] and open to anyone else I suppose.]
arya woman-king
• tag in opening posts only
• violence/magic is permitted. maiming/death is not without prior permission
She had been studying the new growlings of Birdsong all day and night and now it was a new morning. The early hours, the hours of pinks and oranges as the sun rises slowly, those hours were spent grazing before she set onto the path that will lead her north to the Steppe and then to her dear, loving hom, the Basin.
She is covered in dried mud and sticks are gnarled in her thin, silky silver hair. With her belly full she is happy to return to the thawing north, the journey is about ten miles. Her pace is the usual graceful jog, her split toes grabbing and releasing the softened earth beneath her as she flows over it. Phrixus soars above as he always does when they travel, he is set only three of four feet above her head and ten or so feet ahead. He swoops to avoid smacking any strangers travelling on the same path as them.
By the time she reaches the snowy archway and passes the giant bronze sentinel it is approaching mid-day and now sweat joins the caked mud in her silver and white fur. She picks up to a canter, the stiffness peeling away from her bones as she begins to gallop with the throttle open (kicking, bucking and twisting along the way). The electricity of returning home sparks through her bones, it always feels so good to be welcomed back by the lands pumping heart and lively veins. She makes her way toward the springs, the earth turning to rock and half-melted ice as she approaches. The pale bird dances and twirls above her before landing in a mangled tree looking over the springs. He is silent while peering down at the quiet mare in one of the pools. Her running has stopped and she walks slowly up the small incline leading to the hot springs, she is startled when she sees the stranger there but does not say anything. She is silent as she slips into a neighboring pool, giving the mare a quaint smile if she were to open her eyes. Tangere’s sore muscles soak the warmth into them, her thick, shedding coat breaks away in bits as she rubs against the rough stony edges. She preens like a bird, bending her agile neck around her shoulder to reach all kinds of spots that need cleaning. She keeps an ear on the mare, perhaps she isn’t in the mood to socialize, so Tangere leaves the air quiet. Eventually the stillness will overwhelm the silver unicorn and she will have to satisfy her curiosities about the mare’s identity.
tangere
AND THE DOVE OF HOPE
BEGINS ITS DOWNWARD SLOPE...
You may use violence and magic against her at will, but no death.
Her limp was getting no better, and with every agonizing step, Rhiannon felt her bitterness growing. Ever since meeting with Crowley at the Endless Blue, the Brindled Devil's mood had been sullen... Especially when that winged brute had arrived and taken Hotaru away. The helplesness she had felt, the anger, rage, unfairness, self-loathing had ruined her mood only further. Not only was she uncurably lame, cursed by her own, crazed father, but the love of her life, the light to her darkness, the Siren's song to soothe the demons in her head, had been stolen from beneath her very own hooves...
'Damn you, Rhiannon... You should've done something. You should've acted, you should've fought, you should've bled! But you didn't! You stood there like a fool while Hotaru surrendered, while she allowed herself to be taken away!
These thoughts and more like them had become a familiar cycle since that terrible day, and unfortunately, Rhiannon was crippled and weak and unable to go in search for her beautiful minstrel. It was a cruel twist... But Rhiannon was no fool. As much as her pride was damaged and aching, as much as her heart yearned for the familiar caress of her coral Spy, the Soldier knew that Hotaru was far more capable of handling herself in the Throat than anyone else. With poise and strength Hotaru handed over her freedom, and Rhiannon prayed for that very strength to handle being left behind.
"Oh, Ru..." Loneliness was not a familiar emotion, and when faced with new things, Rhiannon tended to react in the same way; with blood-boiling, black out inducing rage.
Through the Basin she had wandered, her pace slow and muscled form pathetic due to her lame front leg. If only there was a cure... But there wasn't. No amount of magic could heal this wound, for it was a curse of darkness itself that made her lame. Spotting the familiar steam rising in the distance, signaling the location of the Hot Springs, the Brindled Devil turned in her aimless wandering and headed towards the soothing waters, knowing that it would help alleviate the pain.
What she didn't expect, however, was for Hotaru's very own daughter to already be there. Of course. Of fucking course.
For a long moment Rhiannon stood stock-still, lame leg lifted in pain, icy-silver and molten-gold oculars locked on the pale form of her love's daughter. Arya. That was her name. Rhiannon remembered the bitter jealousy she had felt upon seeing Hotaru and Arya dancing during the Basin party upon the Insula, but now... Such emotions felt so petty.
She was so very tired.
Heaving a deep, long breath, Rhiannon limped into the waves, far enough away from Arya and the grey mare's bodies to not be intruding, and a low hiss escaped her lips as the warm waters enveloped her bum leg. For a long while the ebony, brindled creature remained quiet and stationary, standing in the hot waters and allowing the liquid to take away her pain, her self-loathing, to clean the dirty and grime from her body and rid her of the terrible things that seemed to have all happened at once...
"Arya," the sound of her own voice surprised her, for Rhiannon truly didn't intend to speak, "... Are you well, child?" Slowly, dual-toned eyes glanced to the grey mare, the stranger, the one who was of the Basin but she didn't know, before looking back to the youth.
She and Arya had never really spoken to one another, but they surely shared a common pain. Certainly they were both aching due to Hotaru's capture... And certainly they could form some kind of bond, built upon familiar ground? Of course, maybe not. Maybe Arya, so headstrong and beautiful like her mother, would shun Rhiannon's advances of socializing, of bonding, and deal with this all on her own... Either could happen, and Rhiannon braced herself for either small talk, or bitter scorn.
She harbours a sword within her unquiet roaring heart,
Another came and for a long moment Arya paid them little mind. Silently she hoped that the gray mare would move along her way, but instead she crawled into the pool next to her. The huntress looked over at her with a hollow expression. “Hi…” She said finally, moreso out of politeness than a desire to have conversation. “Who’re you?” Maybe it was rude to go demanding information out of others when she didn’t make any efforts at warmth or kindness. She was swiftly finding information needed to be carefully kept close. Mare or not the gray one was a stranger and she very well could have daggers hidden under her elegant frame. Her eyes would be drawn to another figure walking toward her. It was the mare that had been eyeing her mother back at the festival.
Upon their first meeting there was no denying the jealousy she had felt. There was no point in such feelings at this point. Arya assumed this mare was her mother’s lover and her mother’s happiness surpassed any past envy. Surely one day her mother would have to watch as she chased after some fair maiden or strapping lad. Part of her was tempted to move closer toward the mare she settled into the pool, but her affections for her mother didn’t necessarily reflect upon her. Arya snapped her head at the sound of her name, both ears perked forward. At the brindled mare’s question her eyes fell back down to the pool. Everything around her was crashing down. Every bit of normality was gone. Despite her pain she wouldn’t let herself cry. She would show this mare that she was strong. Arya had heard stories of valkyries, amazons and woman kings who stood in the face of their pain and conquered it. It was time for her to grasp to their ideals and play the part.
“I’ve been better,” She said. “I’ve been worse to I guess.” Memories of her blood spilt upon the snow barraged her mind and she tried to focus upon the mares before her. “All I want is to find that man and drive a stake through his heart.” Hatred bubbled up inside and she cast her eyes away from the brindled mare. “Stallions shatter everything they touch. Every wrong that has happened to me as happened at the hooves of a male.” She sighed and shook her head slightly. Out of the blue she realized that she might not even know the mare’s name for sure. Rhiannon right?”
@[Rhiannon] @[Tangere]
arya woman-kingfont color=#eebabb>arya woman-king
• tag in opening posts only
• violence/magic is permitted. maiming/death is not without prior permission
01-10-2015, 12:46 PM (This post was last modified: 01-10-2015, 12:48 PM by Tangere.)
@[Rhiannon], @[Arya]
Sorry for the wait! If it happens again you don't have to wai for me, you can powerplay Tang a little, she won't mind xD I have limited access to a keyboard as of late so again, sorry for the wait! <3
A short, stumpy ‘hi’ and a demand – the queue was so sudden that Tangere almost thought it was not for her, but for another she couldn’t see. “Oh,” She stopped chewing at her shedding fur and set her honey-brown eyes onto the woman in the pool next to her. “I’m Tangere.” She smiles as she is supposed to, it isn’t the least bit feigned but it isn’t familiar either. It is politeness, Tangere always has that handy in her arsenal when meeting strangers – it’s right next to her bitch stick, which doesn’t come out to play often enough, really. “I’m one of the healers, under Lena and D’Artagnan.” She added the last name for customs sake, he really hasn’t taught her a thing…she doesn’t really know him very well, in truth, he’s merely a handsome face she’s spoken to before. The former name, however, her dear friend and teacher Lena taught her most of the valuable things she knows about plants. She gave her the basic knowledge to go forth and feed her knowledge on more studies. Her thoughts snap from that back to the mare. She doesn’t ask for a name in return, but goes back to grooming herself once the fog and the silence settle between them again.
Another comes; she’s familiar with the demanding, pretty girl bathing in the next pool. This one limbs along, Tangere can hear it in her steps before she even reaches her sight. They each seemed a small bit younger than herself, but it is evident they’ve seen something beyond their years. The silver unicorn lets them speak on as if she isn’t present until finally she draws herself out of the warm waters, stepping to the side to shake off whatever excess she could and approaching the lame girl. She leans her head down to look at the injury, flicking her ears and letting her nostrils flare and suck in smells. “I can heal that, if you’d like. The Basin lets me do that here, to her beloved citizens.” She pulls her head back into place to meet eyes with the girl, blinking her soft doe-eyes slowly as she looks on. They’re names are noted, she gathered them from their previous conversation, but she says nothing more.
You may use violence and magic against her at will, but no death.
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