"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.
Like walking into a dream, so unlike what you've seen
It was still dark when he reached the horizon, soft waves of brisk mountain air playing at inky locks as the behemoth reached the peak. Small sparks of light danced on the horizon, toying with the idea of lighting the day and breaking into newness. Even in his bellicose nature, the man could take in the breathtaking wonder that was a sunrise. His golden eyes flecked with wonder, taking in the scene being painted before him as he ascended the mountainside. His stoic face was soft, neutral, though his eyes painted a picture of wonder and awe as he looked into the sky mixing with the horizon.
At his heels his cur moved slowly, matching his pace which was typical in their lifetime bond. She was not often on her own or away from her rock unless commanded—by him or by hunger. The pair moved carefully, with calculated steps in the darkness that plagued the foliage around their feet. There was no path the way they were traveling. Feet and paws alike pushed down tall plants and weeds, giving way to a new trail, one they demolished together. The companions were all-too familiar with this territory—with climbing mountains and paving way for adventure and structure—for it had been their life for so many years. The Windtossed Foothills had been the solace the Dauntless and his brother, the Able, had found after the shades of destruction ripped apart their home, piece by piece with no retribution or redemption to be sought. The red and white female had been born into this land, had hunted in its mighty forests and explored the twists and turns of the mountain paths. The undemonstrative man had protected the borders, fought unnerved among the soldiers, had led the other soldiers, and eventually led the entirety of the population.
However, those days were no more.
They stood now, at the peak of their newly created path, as strangers. The land no longer bent in the way that was familiar to them—their minds eye painting different pictures than the layout of landscape before them. This was new, and wrong. A scowl knit across glacial features, golden eyes narrowing some. The canine looked up to her bonded, ears lowering in turn with his scowl. This was not the place of her pup-hood, nor was this the place Archibald had worked hard to protect, laying blood and sinew in its depths; it brought the weight of the world down on Loretta’s shoulders. A small whine dropped from her lips and she closed the distance between her and Archibald, leaning her head against his thick, powerful knee. Leaning down, he touched the top of her reddened head, sending a comforting wave of support towards her heart.
[Archi is standing on a peak, looking down at the Hidden Falls.]
Age had perhaps not made her wise, but it made her nostalgic in the worst of ways. The fields had been the horizon on which plenty of her life had changed. Her past was etched into the soft earth, the bedrock, and remained far longer than the flowers and grasses that had existed when she'd first been changed on its soil. Once upon a time chimed in her head, and she snorted inelegantly, casting away the fantastical words that would never be applied to her life. Whispers caressed her ankles as she climbed, muscles warm with use and breaths fogging in the brisk dawn hours. Nostalgia had clung to her heart like a leech, sucking her dry of her presence of mind until the pull of memories had dragged her halfway across the peninsula. Once upon a time...oh, and how it hurt to use those words, but once upon a time she had been strong. Regal. And yet she had risen so high just to fall equally as far. A useless nurse in a herd she no longer seemed to desire, with a heart too conflicted to navigate. Lakota had never bothered to learn the ways of acknowledging her own emotions, so to be fair it was not something she likely could have done anyways.
It seemed her life revolved around the golden days of the Grey, of the group that had given her life when she was bitter and dead in the gateway of a new world. Memories of a mare too young for the protectiveness Lakota had felt for her, too young to be a queen in the making. Friendship, magic, triumph...she had run until her heart had pulsed, had fought until her blood had boiled with adrenaline, had burned and burned and burned for her patchwork family. Had burned to live again. She was like a phoenix, and the Grey had set match to her, allowing her to be reborn. Repurposed. The Lakota of the past would have sneered to see the mare that climbed the hill that evening, to see how far she'd fallen, how much she'd lost. Yet Lakota had also gained so much, even if it had cost her the position she'd loved, the usefulness she'd once had. Her family had leaned on her once. Now it was she who faded into the mists, who was lost in a shadow she'd once helped them cast.
There was no expectation for what she had found. Whatever had led her to the peak had not merely pulled at her alone. Lakota had anticipated a lonely night on the peak with only her prince at her side, mourning the loss of the land that had once been hers. The only place she'd ever really called home, even after the seasons she'd spent in the World's Edge. The hulking form that met her tired violet gaze was not what she'd expected. A name choked in her throat, but the silence was too tender, too raw. The emotion that permeated the area was like smog, and she aided it with her own despair, her own loss and nostalgia.
Instead, she quietly made her way to the figure on the crest, Aodaun quiet and complacent at her side. He knew there was nothing he could possibly do to comfort her, not when her failures were lain quite plainly at her feet. His heat washes over her as she moves to stand at his side, dwarfed in comparison, but both with mountains upon their shoulders. Similar in nature. She stands beside him in silence for a long time, merely gazing down at the unfamiliar land at their hooves. For a moment, tongue prepared to speak, she doesn't know what to say. It comes quietly, like the morning does at their backs.
"I miss it." Simple. Yet her voice is weary, ancient. Almost hurting. She wants to lean against him, let him hold her up, hold her together. It wasn't fair of her to, however, and so she remained complacently where she was. "I miss the Grey. I miss Circe. I miss...I miss being useful, Archibald," she whispered, as if throughout the time it had taken her to speak the words she had been forced smaller and smaller. It was the only way she could speak and not break apart, a thousand pieces scattered on a foreign wind. Turning, she let her violet eyes fall to his frame, to his rugged features and somber eyes. "Was it worth it?" And his answer held her world, her peace. One word could make or break the illusion she'd created for herself. Lakota trusted him to show her the truth, to tell her that maybe they couldn't have changed anything. Maybe they were destined to fail, all those years ago.
Please only tag starting posts, spars, and threads collecting dust! Plot with me here!
Like walking into a dream, so unlike what you've seen
Loretta sense them first, and sends Archibald and image of the pair. He turned his golden eyes to them as they approach. His friends, Lakota and Aodaun. The Dauntless simply dipped his head in greeting to them, eyes turning back to look down at where the Foothills once stood, the dawn breaking behind him. He was content with Lakota at his side, her presence always welcomed. Her warmth touched his side and Archibald naturally moved towards it. He gently pressed his massive shoulder into her, seeming to cover her like a sanctuary. She was his sister, bonded to him by strife and history, unable to be removed from his heart. Loretta turned to move over by Aodaun, tail wagging some, before she moved her muzzle out to groom and lick the polar bear's fur. It was a gentle show of affection, something Loretta did with her sisters and Eytan as well.
Silence passed over them, a veil of their emotions. The healer broke the silence first, seeking answers from the warlord. The stallion's blazed face hardened as he thought, mulling her question over in his mind. Archibald took a deep breath, the memories of his past filling his mind. Wars raged on, patrols ran through, challenges burned, and bone and sinew were sewn back together in his mind's eye, and all of it happened with Lakota at his side...and Ktulu...and Apollo...and Ophelia...and Circe. His heart throbbed with the memories, panging for his brethren to be at his side once more. The Grey no longer existed, but the bonds and loved formed between the handful of horses that were willing to sacrifice everything for each other remained. Sighing, Archibald nodded, his golden eyes still looking out across the Hidden Falls. "Without our past, we would be nothing. The pain we caused, the pain we felt--all of it--it matters. Strife and war and gain brought us together, but love kept us together. Without the sins of our past, whether they hold weight or not, we are better for it. How useless our lives would be had we done nothing, had we stayed in the Deep Forest like stags and does, hidden in the darkness." His voice was hard, stoic, but was heavy. Lakota was no stranger to this tone, he knew.
It is my hope that Circe will join us, soon. We have conceived another child." A smile breaks Archibald's pale pink lips suddenly, turning his head to look at Lakota with hope glistening in his molten gold eyes.
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