"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.
With a fire in my bones and the sweet taste of kerosene
Her confidence to offer herself was boosted with the protective boy's admission. Not that the other mare was to be so easily discarded, but the grey monolith of a horse had it right, the Throat was the closest for her. It was not so simple though (was it ever?) least of all when a family as large and as sorrow struck as this waded into the pool. She couldn't blame them really; how many times had she been at the mercy of her emotions, rationality fogged with any number of feelings, none of which she could casually compare to the murderous death of a loved one like this.
She breathed, not aware she'd been holding it. She was an intruder here, she knew, but she could help. A mare slipped in beside the warrior father, the one I recognized from the caves. His filly was dwarfed beside him, but then again, so was Ampere. The dark Constrictor came in with the clear authority this situation needed, though Ampere wasn't so sure about a road trip all the way to the Edge, not so soon any way.
Yet, they agreed on one point. The filly could be fed now. Ampere made to move forward, to offer her white wine, but then another appeared, spotted in monochrome. Her familiar face swayed the father, understandably, but in his grieving moment he was blind to the truth. He pushed his daughter to nipples which were still dry, Alysanne's foal not yet needing them. Ampere shook her head slowly. "She swells, but she has not birthed, no milk comes from her yet. In the future though, she may be your best choice, but for now, let me help." She remembered the pitious cries of her own son's hunger, the wrenching loss of her other, silent forever. She was moved, finding herself surprisingly motherly as she stepped still closer to the filly, reaching out to help move it towards her flanks, if he'd let her.
"The first milk is the most important, blessed as it is... I'm afraid mine's already been drunk, but it will fill her still. Even so, she may be prone to health faults..." It was a truth she didn't want to share, but one they needed to know. "The Throat is closest, and I have magic which can help me lift her up and over the river crossing. The warmth will help keep her from sickness, and our healers can aid her until she is well enough to travel all the way to the Edge." Ampere's blue eyes burned bright as she stared at Archibald, the authority figure here. He wanted her close, home, with him, she understood that, but was that what was best? "You're all welcome to stay with her..." she murmured, still feeling for their loss. She couldn't help but feel partially responsible for it. She had pledged to hunt down the killer after all, and now...this.
I'LL BE YOUR NUMBER ONE WITH A BULLET a loaded god complex, cock it and pull it
Everything happened far too quickly for the boy to really comprehend.
First there was the walking. That was hard, but Zèklè did not complain: it was a beautiful day, and he was happy to show Ma how strong he had gotten, how fast he could run. Despite his youth and naivete, he wasn't blind to her disappointment, or oblivious to the way others looked at him because of his lacking wing. Sometimes he wondered why it was taking so long- none of the other foals had to wait like he did. He knew something must be there, because when he tried he could make the muscle in his left shoulder move, just like it did when he opened his wing.
Some nights when Ma wasn't looking he would bite at it, rub at it, plead for his wing to just show up. He would work it until it was raw, the metallic taste of blood rising beneath his teeth, and cry in great, gulping sobs for the gods to make him whole.
But mostly, he didn't let it bother him. It wasn't like any of the other foals could fly yet, anyway.
Then there was the flying. That was so cool, maybe the coolest thing he had ever experienced in his whole life ever. He'd grinned at Ma as he stood on the cloud, leaping and running along its length. "Yeah!" he'd cried, jumping excitedly, one wing extended and sunbeam eyes alight. "I can' wait 'til I c'n fly!"
How proud Ma would be of him then!
Things went downhill after flying, because then there was noise, and people, and most importantly,
d e a t h.
Zèklè followed his Ma through the assembled crowd, peering around her legs to find the source of the conflict. As the voices grew louder and the arguing fiercer the half-child disregarded it all, his rapt attention caught by his first brush with death. The mare was not familiar to him, not at all- why was she lying there, sleeping in all of their midst? Didn't she see that something was going on? The boy frowned, glancing back to his Ma, but she was arguing with a beast of a man, a mountain taller than Gaucho or Tavi or anyone else. The boy frowned, turning back to examine the mare. Maybe they were mad 'cus she wouldn't wake up. Ma got mad at him some mornings, when he was too sleepy to move.
Maybe he could wake the mare up, then everything would be okay.
That was his reasoning when he pushed his nose out toward her belly, hoping to prod the sleeping Grown Up into wakefulness so Ma wouldn't have to argue anymore. The smell of her was the first thing - well, second, after the not moving bit - that wasn't right. And then the lack of sound.
And then the way she felt so cold, and her body simply caved beneath his gentle nudge.
Zèklè jumped back, suddenly afraid, afraid of this mare and these people and this place. He scrambled behind Ampere's legs, whimpering softly. "Ma," he whispered in a trembling voice, "I wanna go home."
But then suddenly there were wings, and screaming and Ma was gone, just like that, and Zèklè the half-child looked around to find himself in a sea of strangers, entirely alone.
I can fake a smile, I can force a laugh. I can hold the weight of worlds.
The island had begun to teem with even more life. Although with life, death must surely follow. Everyone is brought into this world with an inhale, and thus must end with an exhale. With the recent rash of murders that were occurring, it would seem that maybe someone was out to make everyone void of oxygen.
It wasn't long before another body was found, if she assumed correctly. Large amounts of equines, pegasus', and unicorns alike were situated around something that looked oddly of a deceased horse. This was just fantastic, just when she began to think her kids were safe, here was another body dead as can be. Will there be no end to this madness? Surely it will, for if it doesn't Elsa may just have to take things into her own hands. She'd be the vigilante out for this killer.
Looking at the body, it was evident from a few feet back that there was a bite wound. It sunk into her neck, no doubt the killing blow to this unicorn. Children seemed to be running rampant, some looking newly birthed, another looking a little older. Why, why on any God forsaken earth, would a mother bring her child to this? Her teeth ground back, hoping neither Shida nor Auriel had the mind to pay any attention to her. The last thing Elsa wanted to do was to kill any last remnant of innocence that either one of them had. There was enough death in Helovia, and Elsa was sure it would rise again even after this case has come to pass.
Taking a few steps closer, she peered at the teeth marks. They were so firmly imprinted upon her neck. Yet... something else odd was there as well. Within the imprint it seemed that two prin-pick marks were situated inside the impression. A tiny amount of blood conglomerated on the openings, something she never would've seen from far away. Was this a vampire horse? In Helovia, she wouldn't have been surprised. Even something as far-fetched as that could quite possibly exist. A snake? Maybe. A.. what else had fangs? Her distressed mind could only think so far. Hopefully someone in the ground would provide a reasonable explanation for this.
"Talketh."
[For the Melting Pot!]
I can dance and play the part if that's what you ask.. give you all I am.
but i'm only human. and I bleed when I fall down.
With the latest collection of clues that had been retrieved by myself and my teammates, my mind was reeling with the possible suspects. Ever since I had battled the large hybrid stallion, I had been finding ways to connect several of the clues directly towards him. The air was heavy with tension, we were so close to solving the murder that I could actually taste it. Just one more clue, one more death to tie the loose ends and formulate all the connections that I was already suspicious of. It was the sole purpose of my returning to the Island, where I had battled that great hybrid not so long ago. Perhaps I could return to our own battle scene and find my own little hints?
However, I didn't get that far. A buildup of equines, pegasi and unicorns all converged around yet another fallen body. Quite a few of them hovered around something that actually was not the carcass, and as I tip-toed around the edge to get closer to the dead being, I was able to get a better look. A foal, a very young foal...Dark eyes left the crowd to settle on the body, auds flicking towards the body curiously as I lowered my muzzle to sniff. This murder was less...gory, than the others, and any signs of a clue were very difficult to find. When my eyes settled on a large bite, the bite of a horse, I nearly over-looked it. But a strange smell caught my attention, and I went back to the bite to inhale the scent deeply. Venom.
Immediately my crown snapped back, recognizing the smell from when I was bit on the neck by a certain someone's pet snake...Ignoring the crowd that was bickering over who would get to watch over the foal, I headed towards the edge of the Island to hop on a cloud. It was evident that I must find my team, I was positive that I knew who the killer was now.
The Devil's Harem
Panzram
Arvakl
Drom
Please tag Panzram in first posts only. Violence and magic can be used on him, just please do not kill or permanently injure/maim.
Ophelia had been doing her best to gather evidence as Gaucho had said. The pale princess knew that this was her only way, and the sweet, gentle words of the Sun God had given her confidence. She had remained on the sky island for the most part, knowing that her patron god could take from her mind, could trust her memories. He knew her every most intimate thought and was not scared, was not offended, nor hurt. With the god, she felt light, unburdened by the pains of her reality.
With Torleik, she felt alive, real. The gritty day-to-day was spiced up with the tempestuous stallion. He was reactive, powerful, and his love was a mystery. Everything about him was like a magnet she was bowed to, drawn to the strength of his power and energy that rolled from him in great tidal waves. In a way, she was lost in the ebb of his ocean, but she was content to float for now. To learn, really. She had never had to navigate such stormy seas of love before.
But the scene that unfolded before her told of the tragedies of love. Circe. Her friend. She still remembered walking to the World's Edge with the mare who had called her Foothills home, and she wondered how many more of her friends she would lose. Ophelia saw Archibald, surrounded by family and a babe, and she dared not venture too close. What could she say? The beauty and darkness of this moment was overwhelming, and she could see enough.
A snakebite? Why did Gaucho keep popping up? Ophelia felt her body tense, and she saw Ampere and the others speaking, the black and blue mare offering milk. Oh? Pregnant? Interesting. Were these Gaucho's children, she wondered? The pale princess felt out of place in this moment, but she stepped forward regardless, knowing that to be seen and say nothing would be rude, especially to those she considered close.
A heartfelt heartbreak showed on her open features as she regarded Archibald, voice catching in her throat. "I am sorry for your loss," she said apologetically, knowing that this was her loss too. Her friend. "I regret not visiting you and her sooner, but I am glad at least that you had each other for whatever time you had." Ophelia frowned, gazing longingly at the gathering group much different than the tense one she had been involved in not too much earlier.
"If you ever need me Archibald, you can find me in the Aurora Basin." That was sincere. A promise. "Take care, friend."
Undertow has come to take me. Guided by the blazing sun. Look at everything around us. Look at everything we've done.
Please. Anyone. I don't think I can save myself. I'm drowning.
01-23-2015, 02:10 PM (This post was last modified: 01-23-2015, 02:10 PM by Fig.)
Fig
Fig held her breath, and her stomach twisted into one hundred metaphorical knots.
Eyes drowsy with grief watched the ebb and flow of gathering horses. They were drawn to death like bees to a flower, she had seen the same too many times now, and it both disturbed the young tree-girl and filled her with terrible sadness.
What is this place? she prayed grimly, searching the blue heavens. A world like this, with pain and dishonesty, death, is no place for a Lignea... Every inch of her being wanted to turn, to slip from the boundary of the island and away through the Threshold forest – never to return. But Fig was yet to find her Soul Plant. She was becoming desperately concerned for both of their wellbeing, for if one were to endure the malice ripe through Helovia, the other would surely suffer and that was her greatest worry.
There was no sign from above, and as her soft green gaze settled back across the billowing crowd, she sighed deeply.
A sudden lull in activity drew her nearer. There was a child whose cheeks were stained with grief – her body had barely dried after birth – and Fig glanced between the adults that loomed around her. They were all wrought with pain, and the young Lingnea felt a tide of regret flood her core. Why am I here? she breathed heavily – what right had she to gawk?
Her dark shadow fell across the grass ahead of each tentative step, and the soft hue of a purple wildflower beckoned lips down through the air. With a touch so delicate despite her enormous size, the tree-girl plucked the bloom and continued forward towards the body and those gathered in mourning. In a show of respect, solemn and kind, she placed the flower a small way from limp legs.
Sorrowful gaze touched each of the fallen mare’s hurting loved ones before passing across her body – it was flawless! There were no lacerations, torn flesh to suggest a struggle. Blood pooled where the new child had first lain, and sweat caked across flank and shoulder. Confused, Fig’s eyes travelled along the wilted length of her neck and upon it she found a bite distorting skin. That was perhaps the only reason for her to believe it another in the long string of murders...
As she stared pensively at the lone wound, for a long time, and it was perhaps only because of her focus that she noticed the puny puncture wounds, nestled into the groove of the blunt teeth impression. She gasped lightly, almost fearfully and drew back. A snake? Never in Prim’sylva had a reptile turned so pitilessly upon the Lignea – it was unnatural, terrible. They fed upon rodents, birds or insects... Too rattled was Fig to spare a final glace to those lingering, and she slipped quickly away, wishing only for the comfort of her trusted homeland – World’s Edge.
I remembered that huge bastard, too. Mr. Archiballs. (OH MY GOD I ACTUALLY THOUGHT THAT WAS HIS NAME AT ONE POINT). He was always huge and he was still huge, this war-machine, this golem that I had always looked up to and wanted to emulate and had a secret crush on. And there was Miss CC, and I didn’t know they were an actual couple because kids don’t pay attention to that, but it didn’t matter because Miss CC was dead and Archiballsbald looked a whole lot more worse than I could ever, ever have imagined him being.
I got numb.
I swallowed bile.
He had sons there—a daughter, this little slime-covered doll of a thing—an entire family that formed since we all went our separate ways from the Foothills, a land that didn’t exist anymore, whose members were flirting and fighting and falling in love and dying, dying, dying.
“Ma…” I croaked, because she was there and I couldn’t just keep leaving her like I was, just because I had some mixed up feelings about some bullshit that I couldn’t change. There would be time to be mad/sad/confused later. Later.
Because right now, I could lose my Ma.
(If I haven’t already lost her--)
I crept up beside her. Not noisily or anything, not trying to catch all of her attention. The air was heavy with loss and despair and heartache and this was the kind I couldn’t just help ease by touching someone on their shoulder. This was a different pain, a different death, and I’m sorry but I don’t know how to turn back the clock on death.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered; and I didn’t know if I was talking to Archibald, to my Ma, to myself.
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