"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.
01-20-2015, 01:35 AM (This post was last modified: 01-20-2015, 01:36 AM by NPC.)
Here's the thing. Most of Helovia doesn't actually care about what's happening here. The squirrels and fish have shed 0 tears about any of the deaths that have occurred. While you stand sobbing and accusing, the world moves on.
Does that sound harsh? Cynical? Distant?
Let me ask you this. How many of the other bodies have you cried over? Just the ones that meant something to you? Well. News flash. You all mean nothing.
Except that isn't entirely true. Because the entire while someone has taken notice. You do mean something to someone.
Or at least one of you does.
She comes faster than any of you might have been able to process. Her body is a blur of various shades of black. Dark feathered appendages meld with the torso of some humanish creature. Black eyes peer from behind a wicked face, as huge eagle claws extend downwards and in one easy motion grasp the newborn child.
Good luck fighting THIS, Warlord, her laugh seems to suggest as her avian body soars upwards, clutching Macaria. The Harpy drops off of the side of the Island, not needing the assistance of the clouds that serve as magical elevators for those without the gift of flight.
She heads towards the Dragon's Throat, planning on drowning the child in the Oasis before eating her.
It happened so fast she hardly had time to react. In one instant she was there, standing beside the babe and her brother (?), his voice still rasping in her ears with permission and acceptance of her invitation and then - gone.
A rush of wind, a blur of colors and talons and just like that, the newborn babe was gone. Ampere was frozen on the spot, her mind still processing the event that unfolded in the blink of an eye. It was too real to what had happened to her not several days past (was it the same wretched beast?!). At the time she'd been too weak to resist, still in labor with her son while the other was carted off in his pearly casing. This time however.
This time she was ready.
Teeth grit together with a noise that squeaked while feathers flared, wings lifting and dropping in one pump, two pump, three. She bolted forward, shoving her way past the gathering, abandoning her child in the chaotic frenzy of pursue the injustice. Hot on the heels of the harpy (though by no means close, her hesitation did her in), Ampere followed suit and flung herself off the cliffside, wings opening up as she dove.
All around her brush and dust swirled into angry blue sparks, the Mother of Companions crafting a vicious dragon out of electricity. It shot past her, fueled by her anger and its pure energy, its speed undeniable as she and it raced after the thief. It was not so easy as beating it though - a fall from here could kill though child, though maybe she could still save it if she was close enough. She'd never tested her magic which could move that heavily though. A young small babe she was, but still a whole body, one that would be falling fast. No, better to drive the harpy down, down, down.
Meanwhile Zèklè was left in her wake, grounded, weak, alone. This is why she'd offered to feed the filly, not care for it, that's what the other mares were for.
A M P E R E
darya87.deviantart.com
Tag me only if starting a new thread.
Magic or force permitted any time, aside from death.
Stealing from this family was going to repaid only in death.
The flash of feathers brought Gwyneverre to life, rage spilling through every pore, a dark hiss-snarl ripping into the air from her parted jaws. There is no hesitation as the dragon jumps from Abraham's head, moving with quick ferocity towards the harpy. Rage splinters her very core, shaking her small, white body and filling it with hatred. Gwyn's nearly see-through wings beat hard against the wind, flapping desperately to catch up to the captured filly and her deceptive captor. Fiery eyes flick to the blue pegasus as she closes distance behind them. Gwyn growls and trills at her, trying to convey the message. Kill harpy. Don't drop filly. Rapid movement brings Gwyn close to the harpy, but in the distance the white dragon can see the growing red sands of the Dragon's Throat.
Gwyneverre follows the harpy, knowing that if this child was dropped from the bird-creature's clutches, it would end up as if Abraham had dropped her on the rocks as an egg. Splat. Roaring loudly, terribly, rattling her chest deeply, Gwyneverre strikes. She attempts to grasp onto the harpy's head, to dig her claws deep, deep, deep into flesh and cause agonizing pain. DO. NOT. MESS. WITH. US. She screamed inwardly, wings held out straight to gather as much air beneath them as possible, though were she successful in grasping and raking at the harpy's head, she kept her grip for dear life, clenching her feet and hands harder and harder, digging deeper and deeper towards brain matter.
Holy water cannot help you now
See I've come to burn your kingdom down
Holy water cannot help you now
Thousand armies couldn't keep me out
I don't want your money
I don't want your crown
See I've come to burn your kingdom down
I wish I remembered this too! Well, as more than the sensation it is, the dreams I often have of flying high amongst the clouds, weightless and free, a tropical bird of paradise gamboling about the heavens-- before those gorgeous dreams are smudged, ruined beyond all recognition by the residue of black and death, shadows and gloom, gloom, gloom.
I was not a bird of paradise, however. I was still a filly, tiny and bony, helpless and small; it was only that I was borne in the air suddenly, soaring against all wingless odds. My Brothers told me it had been a harpy, a gruesome creature of big, big wings and serrated claws that gripped me tight around my middle. I remember that pain, too, but it mingles with other things, and I cannot for the life of me remember a harpy’s face.
Oh, Father. Oh Abraham; Reginald! How afraid they must’ve been for me—how full of terror they would have been in that moment of heartache, having just lost…my mother…and about to lose me as well! I shrieked—oh well, I think I did. I suppose I should have shrieked then, confused and still so hungry and now in pain, oblivious to the sky just as I was oblivious to the land.
All this fear and hunger and feathers—all of it would only end up becoming a dream one day, and a tall-tale that my brothers would tell me to help me sleep better at night.
[This will be the only time I post Macaria to this thread!]
The roar that finally leaves him is prodigious indeed; it had been smoldering within his stomach, gestating within the pits of seething magma that began to slowly churn about inside him once again, after the initial shock of his mother’s death receded from his bones. It had bubbled and boiled, becoming smoke as it reached the antechamber of his chest; it solidified into something whole, tangible, a force that gathered momentum as it raced upwards out of his throat. It is a fuse of some kind, long-lost fuel of a different sort—it touches the air as he opens his lips, and is as though the battalions of hell itself are unleashed through his maw. It is a wild beast, this roar, his fury incarnate, a breathing, raging beast that would spread its wings of blazing coal and race through the air, slicing the wind upon thermals of hellfire, a gargantuan beast of a dragon that races toward the salvation of his sister, his sister.
But then, it is only a roar.
He does not have a dragon.
Come on!! he would have shouted to his womb-mate, the other half of his flesh, his younger, greater brother Abraham. It does not leave his mouth, ruined as it is with the unadulterated fury that has just passed through it; it is communicated through the lines of his body, hot and seething, the blur of his dark-feathered hooves that have already sprang into action on the heels of his fury. He watches as that mare--that mare that he knows somehow—leaps from the clouds, spreading her wings and diving, diving, diving for the wretched demon that has decided to steal his sister.
He would have jumped, if it would have brought a means.
But no. It is a cloud that he must trust himself to.
A cloud.
Eyes pulse, red. Head rumbles, splitting in a headache. He is becoming undone, torn asunder, eternally cursed, it seems, by an island of divine paradise.
You can't escape the wrath of my heart
Beating to your funeral song
All faith is lost for hell regained
by: Kristi Herbert at flickr
--Please tag REGINALD in every reply!
--All force is allowed to be used against this character!
Instantaneous rage ripped across the entirety of the Dauntless, a fire ignited deep within his gut and exploding into the world around him. He screams, white-feathered hooves flailing into action. He is mindless in his charge, unaware of anything or anyone he might trample on his way towards her. "MACARIA!" His call of her name was filled with rage and sorrow, mixing into dangerous toxicity.
Too soon the Dauntless reaches the edge of the Island, ready to leap to be his daughter's savior, but instead he is passed by a dragon and Ampere. Another roaring scream leaves his throat, causing it to become raw. His screams echoed down into the clouds. "DAMNIT." Rage begins to make his body shake once more. CLOUDS. FUCKING. FORM. Loretta screamed mentally, skidding to a halt at Archibald's side. The clouds, once so mesmerizing and beautiful, formed around hoof and paw and lifted them. Today their beauty was lost, everything that they were, they were not enough. For the first and last time in his entire life, Archibald curses himself for not having wings.
NO, STAY WITH CIRCE! Archibald suddenly commands, shooting his head down to forcefully knock Loretta away from the cloud. I will return for her. There is a plea in his eyes, and as much as the bitch wants to save the child, she understands. Turning on her heels, Loretta raced back to the body, rapidly losing temperature. Be safe, my Dauntless. She leaves with him, blocking their mental imagery. The black and white behemoth did not need to see the bodies that would come to investigate his wife.
Anticipation, fury, worry, sorrow.
The emotions struggle for dominance in his banging heart, slapping against his chest like Mjolnir. As Archibald was lifted from the island he looked back towards his sons, watching their expressions. He is moved too quickly, however, descending towards the solidity of the terra, the Dauntless, in his fervor and desperation, gallops towards the Dragon's Throat, no intent to stop in his gold eyes.
ARCHIBALD the DAUNTLESS The world is a scary place
Now that you've woken up the demon in me
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