"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.
01-05-2015, 07:53 PM (This post was last modified: 01-05-2015, 07:58 PM by Bellona.)
Bellona weakness in the flesh, misery in the bones
The snow rises in silence, neither resisting nor contending with the wind that has brought it astir. The curtains of crystalline powder serve their turns as drab garnishes for the landscape before returning to the frozen land where they were lifted from. What little grass is present here shivers at the touch of the drifting snow, yet the brittle sound of dried stalks clacking together is not enough to disrupt the calm that embodies the steppe. Those who traverse these plains frequently may accept the silence as one who greets a friend, but to others it is chilling -- and perhaps more so than the weather itself. Despite its misgivings, though, the frost-bitten land truly is breathtaking; perhaps that is why the stranger has come.
"You come, Mictla. You come." The words are sombre and lack conviction, but even so the boy knows they are orders. Just as he knows that this is not like her.
"What do you mean 'not like me'? I am myself -- don't you dare say otherwise." Her tone is bitter now, and the boy has to rear up to avoid a lashing tail. Gently, his mind reaches out to hers, meaning only to probe it for the cause of this sudden anger rather than provoke her further. As the boy has come to expect, though, his actions have proven to do the latter.
"Get out of my head, itzcuintli. You do not belong in there." The exuberant warrior throws her head back as if to dispel his very presence, and the spotted cub looks on in silence. She knows just as well as he that nothing can be done to remove the bond. Sadness creeps up on the boy like a scuttling beetle, but he rejects the emotion as soon as he can detect it. He has tried to express his pain to the stubborn bird before, and no good ever came of that endeavour. Rather than try to make her realize the potential in him, or to speak up and confront her about his mistreatment, though, the hyena eases his rump into the snow to sit and wait it out. A yawn forces its way past his tiny teeth, and his blue gaze settles on one of the wisps that trail after the pacing peacock. After moons of having only an incredibly stubborn woman to keep you company, you learn to accept that her decisions are the best ones.
"talk talk talk"
{Wow this is terrible. I'm so rusty. Forgive me. DX
itzcuintli -- "dog"}
Thank you Vossity <3 Please tag me each post!
Permission granted for physical harassment!
You’ve lost her, that much you know for a fact. Brow furrows in worry, and blue eyes flit to the horizon once more, as if looking for the thousandth time will reveal a tiny pink figure in the distance. But there is nothing, no one. Muriel is nowhere to be found.
There had been an explosion; that you also know. The hows and whys remain unclear, but not a week ago, the island had blown apart, separating the two of you in the infancy of your…well...—and here a faint smile tugs at your lips—...you don’t know whether to call your time together a romance or a mere twist of fate, but the few days you spent with her are ones that you know you will never forget. The four-winged mare understood you in a way that no one else had before, and in the end, what you shared with Muriel was enough to keep you looking through the rubble for hours after the world had (quite literally) fallen apart.
When you didn't find her amongst the wreckage, there was no reason for you to continue searching. After all, it had been very possible that she was, in fact, dead. Yet you refuse to believe it—not out of naivety, for you have seen mortality slip from more souls than you care to remember—but out of some premonition, a gnawing feeling that she was out there somewhere. And so you took wing, flying north and searching for her all the way. How could you not try, when she herself had given you this new hope?
Tired gaze lowers once more, scanning the ground below. Nothing to the east, nothing to the wes—wait. A patch of color bleeds onto the icy plain, a defiant sign of life pulsing in reds and blues and greens…your breath catches in your throat, and your eyes strain to confirm the bizarre truth. It couldn’t be…but it is: Bellona moves ahead, picking her way across the tundra.
Muriel is temporarily forgotten in the shock of the moment, concern over her replaced by the strange mix of emotions that washes over you as you stare down at Bell, hardly daring to believe that this is not some illusion of an exhausted mind. First and foremost, you are curious—the bird has either been gone for several seasons or has hidden herself very well indeed, for you have not seen hide nor hair of her since before the snows came and went. And secondly…well, you choose to brush the other feelings aside because their very occurrences confuse you. Indignation and relief don’t mix well, especially when you have no particular reason to feel such things about Bell. You hardly know her, you remind yourself.
But, a familiar face is a familiar face, and for this reason you allow yourself to sweep downward and greet her. Your long shadow is your only herald as you glide irritatingly close overhead, and then you drop to the earth before her with practiced ease and your signature self-satisfied smile. And then you turn to face her, twinkling eyes meeting a pair of sharp yellow ones for the first time in months. “Well, well, well,” you drawl lazily, massive wings stretching and resettling neatly on your charcoal back. “What have we here?”
Bellona weakness in the flesh, misery in the bones
His bonded's haughty striding concerns the spotted boy, but his gaze remains fixed on the fiery wisps surrounding her. He is doing his best to suppress his concern for the seething Chieftess, but his attempts at concealing his emotions are proving futile. He cannot stand to bear witness to her wrath -- not when there is nothing to be done about it at least. Gradually the shapeshifter's emotions flit from feigned ignorance to muted sympathy, but the shift is not committed stealthily enough to be completely hidden from the vixen.
Flaming and enigmatic eyes bear down on the pup and he instantly starts to quake under the weight of it; were it possible for such a fiery stare to give off heat, the blanket of snow draped across the Steppe would be reduced to a giant puddle. An involuntarily cry slips through the youth's jaws as he sprints to avoid the bird's explosive approach. Striped pillars bear down on the crisp earth behind him with enough force to make him flinch. His only pause in his flight is to spare a glance behind him.
"Motlatlaloa, cohuatontli! Motlatlaloa!" His mistress' harsh laughter continues the chase even though her dancing body does not. Satisfied with the distance set between them, the boy slides to a stop to allow his galloping heart to settle. The throbbing organ still yearns for the vicious woman's love despite her latest attack, but this time he does not prevent his hurt feelings from reaching her. Love hurts, Mictla. I told you to stay out of my hea- Her venomous words are interrupted by a streak of shock piercing her mind, but the fact that she even acknowledged their bond as anything other than a nuisance is remarkable. Satisfied with his psychological breakthrough for the day, Mictla succumbs to the pull of gravity on his shaking limbs and collapses in the snow. Hardly a hair on his spotted self twitches in response to the snow flung up by Gull's arrival. Best to leave the big ones to their talking.
The bird is shocked into silence by his very presence. The aggression that possessed her only moments before is almost completely forgotten, the throb in her legs the only remnants of the act. The vixen is suddenly ashamed of her fitful display. Did you bear witness to all of that? Blue ears seek shelter in the tangle of her mane as they rush backwards. Should I care that you saw any of that? A cobalt brow furrows. Why can't she just settle on being surprised or angry and be done with it?
As if any more complications are necessary given the situation, one word squeezes past the blockade barring her mouth. "Gull?"
In an alternate universe, the word is hushed; spoken by an angel, and possessing enough sustenance in it to revive a fallen lover graced with a similar name. The dame's tone trembles slightly, as if she is uncertain of whether she has the right to utter his name. There is an undertone of defiance in her chords, too, for a woman such as the one in this universe is as courageous as she is demure, and she'll be damned if she doesn't make her passion for the silver stag known right this instant.
But this isn't that kind of universe. Bellona isn't that kind of mare. She is a force to be reckoned with with her temper about her, but now that she is unhinged by his closeness as he drops from the sky, the dominant, defiant, definite Chieftess feels as if she is worth nothing at all.
"Gull?" The true interpretation of the word is found through out her tone. The bird is no angel, no damsel (to his distress), at all. She is merely Bellona, and merely Bellona is confused. "What are you doing here?"
The bird's bright flames, though not as brilliant as they had been in her rage, drag across his ivory hide as if to map every slope and plain of it. It is not a romantic gesture -- not from her, at least -- and the act is meant only to scrutinize him for marks, scars, anything at all. Why she does this isn't entirely clear to her, but she commits to the act regardless. When at last she is satisfied with her findings -- he is quite the healthy specimen in her eyes -- the vixen returns her stare to the tumultuous seas in his own. "You've worked on your landing, I see." Her tone is neutral, its usual sarcasm marred by the shock that his arrival has bestowed her with.
How did you find me?
"talk talk talk"
{motlatlaloa -- it flees/it runs
cohuatontli -- little snake/little serpent
@[Gull] SO EXCITED!! EMOTIONS ARE EVERYWHERE BUT WOOHOO!!!}
Thank you Vossity <3 Please tag me each post!
Permission granted for physical harassment!
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