"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.
He walked with head low, inhaling the heavy scents of earth and pine that mushroomed up in little clouds with each hoof fall. No sounds tipped the dark ears from their neutral perch; no thoughts lit the dark ovals of his eyes. He waited, unquestioning and undemanding of his superiors. After all, he had no right to question, and they no need to explain.
His was not the position of decision making or even of open interpretation. He was an emissary, a deputy, chosen and tasked to perform in representation of another. He received orders and carried them out.. but he had failed. When presented with two ideal victims, half broken already, he had failed. He had let weakness into his mind: surprise, confusion, uncertainty. He had doubted.
Retribution would come. Already a low buzzing had begun in the back of his mind, a swelling of sensation. He had no control of the heat building beneath his skin or the way it twitched and began to darken with sweat. The pale, hairless patch across his right shoulder seemed to constrict, reminding him of the mark there. He did not know if it was a scar earned in triumph or in failure. He could not remember, but he feared the possibilities.
As he walked the buzzing grew in intensity. It expanded from between his ears and crowded out all other sensation. After a few minutes he could not smell the pines or soil, could not feel the ground beneath his hooves, could not see the trunks as they crowded closer and closer together. There was only the constant, terrible buzzing.
He felt suddenly overcome with claustrophobia. It was as if his hide had shrunk around his very frame, or his bones grown larger, forced apart as the buzzing grew and grew from within. There was a faint scent of burning. Burning leaves, but that couldn’t be right. He remembered a pine forest. Maybe it was his skin charring, pulled tight and seared through by the heat of the ceaseless buzzing.
He had no sense of time or direction in the burning, buzzing heat. He was disjointed, lost, transported to a world of endless pain. Flashes of light burst too close to his eyes, inside his eyes, and still the buzzing grew, expanded. There was nothing else.
Finally, something seemed to burst. There was a slow, silent release of pressure and the stallion began to come back to himself. He felt off balance, heavy. It wasn’t until he struggled to turn his head that he realized his position: sprawled on the floor of the forest. Embarrassment speared into his chest, but relief quickly soothed it. He was alive. He was forgiven.
Carefully, he stretched out each leg, turned each ear, shook out his choppy mane. Everything seemed to be in working order. With a deep grunt the roan shoved himself upright. Lethargy beaded and ran off of him like droplets of water as he took in his surroundings.
The air felt cool against his damp skin and smelled of moisture and growth. He turned in place, unfamiliar with the shaded grove around him. His body felt parched, dried out from the inside, so he quickly sought the small pool of water nestled in the roots of one trunk more massive than the rest. His lips had nearly touched the surface of the water when hundreds of glowing, crimson jewels winked up at him from below, each one reflecting tiny slivers of light that reached through the canopy of needles overhead.
OOC: Open to anyone. He's new in town, just left the threshold.
01-23-2015, 01:04 PM (This post was last modified: 01-23-2015, 01:06 PM by Sialia.)
I Ain't Got Time To Bleed
A soft cooing echoes from my mouth as I move carefully through the forest. It's cold, but its getting warmer. Summer is just around the corner. The funny thing is that meant that I had been here a year. What had all happened in that year? Where did it go? Soon after arrival, I had met Torleik, who had brought me to the Basin, where I had joined and become a soldier in the ranks. Then I had met Voodoo and his inciting pet. In this very forest actually. Whilst I was covered in sticky gooey blood.
Then came the summer, and well, it was a little eventful, but honestly the only thing I can truly remember is... Mauja. That summer night had been wild, and honestly, he had kinda rocked my world. At least for that one night. I haven't seen him since, however, Glacia has. She met him on the steppe. I remember, because she had came home late, and I had demanded an explanation. It's a small world. Then the fall. Parties, and fun galore. Oh, and giving birth and suddenly becoming a mother. As well as a interesting turnout to the birth. Illynx, then... the bitch who tried to kill my baby girl.
Then winter hit, and the mysterious disappearance of Illynx, as well as the murders beginning. Thats when I teamed up with Midas and the flaky Desperado. In the end it was just Midas and I. Then I met Ophelia, and only weeks after arrival she became the queen. I will say it has been an eventful year. And now I was on my second helovian year, and I'm about to start it off with a bang seeing whom I am about to run into.
As I push through the tree's and brush I come upon a stallion. We are of the same height, and he is slightly stockier than I. He seems to be staring off into a pool, and I wonder what the hell is so fascinating about what ever is in the water. "Find something interesting, handsome?" I ask, my voice relaying interest in the stallion, but my face holding none of the husky emotion that laced my voice. It had gone cold, stony, my body mimicking it, tense and ready to flee should it be necessary.
"Speech" Tag;; @[Reynier] Words;; 390 Notes;; <3
Credits: Whit's tables were an inspiration | Coding by Schwartze | Image
The roan pursed his lips, still an inch away from the water of the pool. His ears folded and lay flat, anticipating another monotonous litany of greetings and titles. One eye rolled toward the stranger, disdain openly shading the dark oval of his pupil, but what he saw belied the innocence of her words.
The mare was standoffish, closed in her expression where her words had been open and inviting. Her tenseness was visible, muscles held rigid as if waiting for the cue to propel her to safety. Intrigue teased the stallions ears away from their usual home against his poll. He turned to look at her fully.
The two were of an even height, but outward similarities ended there. She was lighter of build and long in the leg, while he stood in comparatively broad, square conformation. His eyes traced the ribbons of color that spiraled up her legs from hoof to knee, noting how the blue mirrored her eyes and horn, more vibrant than any cloudless sky. He’d only seen that type of brightness on the backs of flying insects, usually the biting kind.
Nature often warned the world about its dangers with bright colors and flashy decorations. The roan was an exception to this rule, but he lived close enough to his primitive instincts to remember. He wondered what powers the decorated inhabitants of this land might have if the plain looking ones could move trees and command shadow-birds.
“Why does the bottom of the pool reflect red?”
He spoke slowly, almost sing-songing the words in a novel attempt at sounding cordial. Politeness was an unaccustomed gesture and it showed in the obvious effort of pronouncing the question without a threat lying heavy over the syllables.
His dark pupil rolls back to me, and lazily an ear flicks forward. There is disdain shadowing his eyes as he observes me. Slowly his backward flicked ears swivel forward as he turns to observe me closer. My blue eyes trail over the stallion as he turns to face me, grazing over his roaning form. He is most certainly stockier than I, and looks like he has a nasty bite. My shoulder twitches ever so slightly as I absent mindedly thought of the good bite wound on my shoulder that the phantom Roland gave me in our recent spar.
“Why does the bottom of the pool reflect red?”
He asks and my other ear tips forward at him. Giving a soft snort I move forward and begin a circle around him towards the pond, looking at the red bottom. After I move further away I come to a halt, and gaze inside for a few moments. The red was captivating, and beautiful, in some sad gruesome way. I turn myself back to the roan and I slowly make my way back to him. My dark navy blue eyes lift from the ruby red bottom and lock onto his dark ones. "Legend has it that the bottom of this pond is red from the blood of those who died in this forest." I smirk slightly, looking back down at the water. "I think they are jewels, but in this land, who can really say." Slowly my eyes run back over him before locking on him again. "I'm Sialia, and who might you be handsome?" I am straight forward in my question, holding his eye contact, almost daring him, but at the same time not. I am not in the mood to fight, nor is my body in shape to. But who knows, maybe he was a rabid dog waiting for the challenge to attack. Maybe I was taking a risk. I seemed to be taking a lot of those lately.
"Speech" Tag;; @[Reynier] Words;; 343 Notes;;No problemo! Mine is fairly short as well. <3
Credits: Whit's tables were an inspiration | Coding by Schwartze | Image
The roan stood as if anchored, only his eyes and ears following the mare along her circumference of the pool. He watched her amble past, heard the affable tone of her voice, but these conscious tricks did nothing to hide the conflict in her body. She smirked and flashed those deep blue eyes as if to challenge, but only from the safety of the waters opposite edge. A tiny flame of excitement sparked alight in the stallion’s chest. It licked at the chambers of his heart and set them to a quicker rhythm. He had seen the twitch of distress cross the mares dark features, had watched her cover the sting of it with movement, almost.
Saliva pooled in the corners of the stallion’s mouth and he was forced to swallow before it visibly wet his lips. His instincts only saw the vulnerability in front of him, but his mind began to question. Was the mare genuinely fearful of his presence or just feigning so to lure him? She kept sizing him up, evaluating this quarter or that even as she began to close the distance between them. The roan watched her approach and wondered what powers a unicorn might have in a land where the blind could command whole forests to move in their defense.
"Reynier.”
He answered simply, more to fulfill his side of the exchange and gain future response than for any intrinsic pride in the label. It was the only name he knew, one of the only things he could truly remember. Not a christening from mother or father, he couldn’t remember any if he’d ever had them; it was the name the warm weight of approval against his thoughts had always used for him. The name his shadow occasionally taunted from its indistinguishable place among the darkness of the forest floor.
”Do all the horses here have powers? Magic?”
This was a question he actually wanted answered, the one he'd paid for with compliance of conversational structure. He had a sense that Helovia was not the first land he'd been sent to on mission, though he couldn't remember others, but something felt wrong here. The roan was displaced somehow. He could not understand why the gods would grant their own powers, even in tiny, diluted doses, to the common creatures of the world. Hadn’t they been taken advantage of for less?
He peered down through the water of the pool, at its crimson blood-jeweled floor. A great weight seemed to settle across his back even before the mare replied. He didn't need her answer. Reynier had only one purpose, and if this place had been some sanctuary of chosen so loved by the gods that they’d granted the inhabitants not just life and gifts of every kind and color, but also a part of their own powers, then this judgment was more tragic than any other.
Tags: @[Sialia]
OOC: I won’t tell you how long I worked on this, because then you’ll want to know why it’s not longer.. and better.. but I’m glad I finally got a reply out for you. I'm sorry about the wait.
I tried to sell my soul last night, it's funny he wouldn't even take a bite.
Danger, Danger, Danger. Oh stop, my middle name is danger, and I am surrounded by it on a daily basis. Hell, I even tried to hunt it down. I am sure I could take on this roaned brute, but the daughter waiting at home held me back. Despite the desire to challenge him, to resist the urge to rip into him.
"Reyneir"
Harks catch the name, and the dual toned face cocks, running his name through my mind, before storing it at the back of my mind. "Well met, Reyneir." I say, before coming to a halt before him. A inky black tail swishes at the ivory ankles, as I listen to the next words to from from his crude maw.
”Do all the horses here have powers? Magic?”
A snort escapes my nostrils, as I shake my head. No, not all. I had yet to gain the ability to gain the magic I desired. Then again, I had not yet tried for it. I would soon though. My dark blues roll back in my head before focusing back on the roan. "No. Not all of us. I, as an example do not have magic. There are many though. Some have magic that they can use in battle, some just as a decoration. Some are born with it, and others have earned it through quests from the gods..." A small smile dances on my lips, and I watch the roan. "Any other questions?" I can answer some, but not all. Then again I am not to keen on spending my whole day answering questions for the stocky stud. I have places to be, people to see. Well. Not many people.
"Speech here." Tag;; @[Reyneir] Words;; 286 words Notes;; Sorry this took so long to get to you! <3
The mare’s incessant movement began to wear on the roan. He watched in waning interest as she swung from one emotion to the next in quick bursts, apparently unable to settle on any one expression. Her mental disquiet projected for all to see as her candy striped legs danced a rhythm of unease that quickly spread to her wringing tail and rolling eyes, all of which she directed at the stallion as if this unstable temperament was some imposition of his and not a fault of her own.
“No.. that’s all.”
He turned away and lowered his head to the surface of the pool, wholly unconcerned with whether the mare quieted and came to a decision or not. He drank deep of the cold, clean water and let his eyes sag closed in thought, though one ear stayed firmly tilted back.
To earn the praise of the gods through service was his own purpose in life, so being granted some special gift of appearance or power through that avenue the stallion could easily understand, but being born with such a gift he could not fathom. Why would the gods grant such tokens to an untested soul? Dark brows pinched together as the roan struggled to rationalize this new idea, but his features began to smooth again as a new chain of thought slowly linked together.
The gods were well known for recycling and repurposing. Perhaps the newborns given special gifts were not newborns at all, but souls taken and placed again for a specific purpose. That reasoning made sense to Reynier. The old religion was severely weakened in this land of do-gooders and touchy-feely pacifists. Without devoted servants to offer sacrifice the gods would slowly die, taking all of Helovia with them, but by indoctrinating the youngest generation they could ensure decades of continued worship. It was a beautifully laid plan and the roan heaved a sigh of relief in knowing that the gods had their future securely in hand.
Mood thoroughly lifted, he raised his head to glance behind.
Tags: @[Sialia]
OOC: I don't have any excuse for this being so late. I'm really sorry. You're welcome to leave it here if you don't want to continue anymore. Or to continue. Or to attack him while his back is turned for being a jerk. Spars are fun! :P
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