"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.
The mother. Fucking. Beach. Great god damn success. You’ve been trying to get here for… Well, you know, basically since winter started. Life has been terrible without your beloved drugs, but it doesn’t have to be terrible any longer. It is your day. You’ve made it to the beach, dragging yourself through the excruciating agony that has all but doubled you over with inability to do anything, and now you are here. Nothing else matters. Even thoughts of Snowflake, Child #1 and Child #2 are far from your head. All you can think about are your plants, those beloved locoweed vines that snake across the sandy, murky junction between here and what used to be that stupid swamp. God you hated that swamp. Nothing good ever came of it… but that doesn’t even matter now. With one final step, your bones feeling like they are shattering beneath you, you fall into a patch of your vines and begin greedily downing them.
You don’t know for how long you lay there, ingesting sweet flower after sweet flower, letting green juices roll down your mouth and letting your stomach grow full with the tasty treats. You don’t know how long your head swims or for what length of time it takes for your muscles to grow weak. You can’t say if you got here at daybreak or noon or dusk, or what time it is now. All you can say is that you are happy, and pain free, and you don’t have to shoot yourself with your drug magic every 30 seconds to manage it. Even the merhorse on the rock in the distance looks happy as she tosses her head at you.
Up in the sky, a horse pulls a flaming wagon. You thought for sure that was where the sun went, but you’re not in any mood to question these things. Regardless, you kind of like wagon horse better. There’s something majestic about the idea of pulling the cart the illuminates the world that even you, cynic though you are, can appreciate. You’ll have to remember to bring Child #1 here someday. Except… maybe not. Because she might try to explode the chariot out of the sky and plunge the world into eternal darkness. As you heard it, that already happened once. You don’t really think it needs to happen again.
So it is that you lay on the ground, limbs splayed wildly, body strewn out like you’ve no cares in the world. And right now, you don’t. Forget that there are murders going on everywhere, forget that you’ve got a mate and children, forget that you’ve got warriors to manage. You are going to lay here and enjoy being high, and that is final!
01-11-2015, 01:42 AM (This post was last modified: 02-01-2015, 07:29 PM by Gaucho.)
GAUCHO
Shake your mind from slowly sinking under
But it wasn't a chariot of fire, as you might already have guessed. It was Gaucho.
Gaucho had been gliding the coastline, only a few hundred meters out. He had been observing the tides and currents. Once the Throat became an island, he was certain that the patterns of the ocean surrounding it would change. By how much however, he had no idea. In the lands of his people the Ocean was a far off mirage - it was not impossible to reach, but might as well have been. Since arriving in Helovia he had spent enough time that he was more than comfortable with the sea, even if he didn't understand its mysteries.
Far below, Mara spied his bestest friend, collapsed or possibly even dead upon the sands. Neither would have surprised him. When had he seen Oxy that didn't involve drugs, or the mammoth creature ending up on his back? If one or the other had ended up killing his pal, the dun wouldn't have batted an eye, though he would have been disappointed. He liked the big idiot, and together they shared something special. Something ... that he couldn't quite put his finger on.
Then again maybe it wasn't the type of thing you were supposed to touch. Gaucho didn't know. He didn't have very many friends.
Gliding down (from the sun, apparently) Gaucho flew towards Oxy. His flaming wings neatly buffeted against the slight breeze as he brought himself to land next to the presumed-dead giant.
"Are dead?" The Wildfire asked somewhat skeptically. He lowered a wing to prod the creature's bulky shoulder, though was careful not to dislodge his precious bag. Through Mara's onyx gaze he couldn't exactly tell if he was breathing or not. A snake's vision was drastically different from his own, and he still found it difficult to make out specific details.
Still, he had a feeling Oxy wasn't dead. This wasn't a hilarious enough death for the Addict. Of all the ways to die, Gaucho was sure it wouldn't be alone overdosed on a beach.
Icarus flew too close to the sun, it seems. You sort of remember the tail going that he got his wax wings melted, but it seems that this version of the fairytale goes a little different. Your Icarus comes towards you with wings alight, feathered and flapped open, flaming brilliantly but not causing the wielder any distress that you can tell. Icarus, Icarus, your mind drawls out, but you can’t decide if the words actually made it to your lips or not. You guess not, since your ears didn’t seem to pick up any sounds, but one noise does make its way out- a gargantuan groan that is accompanied by a dramatic heave of your chest as Icarus’ hooves assault the sand in their landing.
Are dead? Maybe. The sun was so far away a moment ago, but it seemed to be getting bigger… and hotter… and closer. Oh, wait, no. That’s just Gaucho’s wing, prodding at you. Or is it? Maybe your Icarus is no Icarus at all, but the devil himself raised up from the depths below, come to take you away from this hell that everyone tries to pass off as heaven. Does the devil wear a snake hat? And then, there’s that other problem. See, you don’t actually have that much of a problem if the devil takes you now and secures you away in his harem. You’ve lived a long life of reckless abandon that has left you with many scars.
The problem is, if you let the devil take you now, you’re pretty sure Snowflake will come find you. Fire be damned, her frozen body will surely brave the heat and come drag you back out. There are twins to raise, after all- do you think she’s going to let you get off that easy? “Look devil man,” you slur, your tongue flopping heavily out of the right side of your mouth onto the ground as you lay there. Mmm… dirt. Delicious.
“I’ve done bad things. But you can’t take me now.” Bargaining with the devil? Can he even understand what you’re saying? “Snowflake will kill you. And maybe me.” You laugh at the very idea, again, imagining the Icarus devil’s death by the hooves of your creamy woman. Unimpressed by your bargaining skills, your disoriented companion still seems to know that this is Gaucho and not some fallen angel. In an effort to make you realize your mistake, she morphs into a butterfly and begins flitting around Mara, hoping to stay out of striking distance while still drawing your eyes there- making you remember. Gaucho… snake… Icarus… devil. They all seem to be one.
Not dead. Gaucho wasn't surprised. For some reason he always thought he and Oxy might die together on some battlefield somewhere. It was idealistic and unrealistic, although it just ... felt right. His friend was crazed out of his mind in this odd-day dream, but nevertheless, it made sense to Gaucho that he couldn't die here.
Snowflake...
Did Oxy have a pet name for Elsa? Images of Sohalia with Ampere transposed over her flashed before his eyes. He hadn't referred to them as anything other than their names ... and even then, he usually just grunted in their direction. Was he meant to do more? Obligated to? Expected to? His black ears flattened against his skull at the thought. There was so much that was expected of him, was it too much to ask that someone just let him know what it was every now and then? Maybe once Oxy wasn't so delirious Gaucho would ask him.
... What a strange thought. To think that Oxy knew more about women than he did. But then again ... why not?
Mara's beady black eyes narrowed at the butterfly as it flitted before the duo. Although butterflies were harmless, seeing one this close to the water - flitting across the sand - didn't make any sense to her reptilian brain. Did the Addict have a butterfly as a companion? Mara didn't know what to make of Oxy but ... but somehow that didn't entirely make sense.
Snorting, Gaucho raised a hoof and kicked sand towards Oxy's shoulder. Lovingly of course, but kicked it none the less.
"Up." Gaucho demanded, mostly amused.
But... what was ...
Behind where Oxy's robust ass was rolling in the sand, a flash of white caught Gaucho's eye. It was one of the few things he could see, and likely if he had been able to see Oyx his bulk would have blocked the egg from sight. As it was, the curse of the Sun God's quest was the only thing that allowed him to see the shimmer of white.
Rather gracefully Gaucho skittered around Oxy, forcing one of his legs behind Oyx's thigh to bar him from rolling onto the egg. Grunting with the effort, he lowered the opposite wing to try and roll the egg away from his gargantuan friend before he squashed it.
Her efforts are valiant, but only minorly effective- there are moments, seconds perhaps, where you think you might know him as your best friend. At other times, he is still your hallucinated devil. Eventually, your boggart gives up entirely, morphing back to her naturally invisible form. Had she eyes, she would surely be rolling them at you right now.
As for you, sand flies toward your shoulder accompanied by the rough grunt of the Icarus devil, who is perhaps your friend. Up? You groan again, heavily. Still, he has a point. Your side is starting to hurt, and you’re probably crushing a good section of your beloved plants that just roused themselves back to life after winter. Unfortunately, before you can even get your brain half-way to firing the required neurons, Icarus is on the move again. As his leg buts up against yours, your instinct is to kick. Your muscles tighten, though sluggishly, but in your intoxicated state you are no match for the gargantuan beast anyways.
So, instead, you use his leg as leverage, pushing against him as your body begins to roll and twist. Your legs flail, but at least not in the direction of the egg you’re not yet aware of. Slowly, with much effort, you get your body into a sternal position. A few moments later, your front and rear rise up, likely crashing into Icarus on the way up, but he’s strong. And something in the back of your head tells you those flames aren’t dangerous. It’s like you ran into them once.
“What did you find?” you sort of grumble, admittedly curious what made him step over you in the first place. When you finally turn around, you almost panic to see him scooting a huge polar bear across the sand. Dancing a few steps back, tossing your head around, you alarm snort and nearly fall back onto your ass as you struggle to find some footing. “It’s going to bite you,” you slur to him, brow furrowed as you try to decide why Icarus is trying to coddle the thing. There’s already a snake in his antlers. Isn’t it enough?
"Egg." Gaucho grunted. His stormy gaze narrowed as he tried to peer inside of the shell with the use of his flames. He could see that there was something in the egg, but it was so balled up as to make its species impossible to determine. Mara had come from an egg like this, although he had found her in the sands of the Throat. Would another snake hatch ? Would it bond to him? Silently Gaucho admitted that he would like to have another companion, a pair of snakes in his antlers to strike at any and all who came close to him during battle. Mara hissed with an unimpressed flash of emotions, as if she was somehow being replaced. Shhhhh. He consoled rather unhelpfully. Her place with him was secure, she could see inside of his mind, knew that he had no intentions of replacing her, nor any want to do so. Gaucho was a warrior, increasing his personal arsenal was always something he would gravitate towards.
"Gaucho going to bite you." He replied with a sarcastic chomp of his teeth. Lowering both wings now, he scooped the small egg up, holding it gently between his feathers. If he could see Oxy's companion, he might have asked if it had come from an egg. But the appearance of the butterfly hadn't been enough to clue him into the fact that his BFF also had a special little friend. Snorting, Gaucho tucked the egg gently under his wing before regarding his drug addled friend.
"Why you here? Murderer running around. Easy to get murdered passed out on beach."
Although Gaucho really didn't think whoever was on this killing spree would be particularly bothered with Oxy. He was far too big and on too many drugs to bother with at any given time. Killing him would probably be more effort than it was worse, and something told Gaucho that if the Addict was ever slain, the gases that his body released would probably be nearly as toxic as the weeds he fed into his system.
Egg your ass. That thing is a mother. Fucking. Polar Bear. And screw anybody who’s trying to tell you otherwise- Icarus included. But then, who are you to argue with a man that just fell down from the sun. Things are getting awful complicated around here. Blinking your eyes a few times, you try to make the polar bear turn into an egg, just in case Icarus is telling the truth, but no matter how many times you blink and squint, it doesn’t turn into anything else. Just a Polar Bear. Maybe Icarus- wait, Gaucho?
You look to him as he introduces himself, well… kind of introduces himself, and for a moment you’re not really sure what to do other than chomp at the air back. You guess, maybe, the longer you look at Icarus, the more you can see the resemblance to Gaucho. Or… or… just work with the idea for second here, okay? Maybe… maybe Icarus and Gaucho are one in the same, like maybe Gaucho got turned into… what? A lesser god? Yeah… that sounds about right. Well hot damn. He’s going to be a way better god than any of the other ones. And it never hurts to have a friend in the heavens, right?
But wait- weren’t you just calling him the devil? Things are super weird here. You’re going to have to think about it.
“Locoweed is here,” you respond, tossing your head towards the smashed grove of locoweed vines that are stretching their eager arms across the sands. Maybe you shouldn’t have tossed your head though, everything gets really dizzy for a second. As for the murderer… your very full bag suddenly becomes empty again as you start tossing vines out to dig through it, as though searching for something. A moment later, you pull out a piece of metal and grab it in your mouth, the sparkling ends glinting in the sunlight. Swinging it around a time or two, you make a show of putting locoweed and spear back in the bag as you explain, “I’m scarier than any murderer anyways.” Maybe not this high, though.
“You should be safe,” you add helpfully, “Now that you’ve got a polar bear and a snake.”
The beach? Really? That's where he refilled his stash? Weird. Gaucho had always ... well, sort of pictured somewhere high up in the mountains. You know, surrounded by shroud and mist and legend, where you had to walk by a bunch of traps and things that tried to kill you, before arriving at some majestic spring. Or, in the case, patch of locoweed. But the beach ? Huh. The Throat had a beach. Did such vines grow there? He looked to where Oxy had indicated, but it appeared his friend had picked the sands clean. Oxy hadn't ever been to the Throat, had he? If not, it stood to reason that it was possible that in fact there drugs growing in his home.
One day he'd have to invite Oxy over for a sleep-over and find out.
As Oxy flailed around on the sands, moving likely much slower and more sloppily than he intended to demonstrate his expert skills with his spear, Gaucho just laughed. Fire bled from his antlers, swooping and forming into two large polar bear shapes. Although they weren't white, if the Addict could mistake a round egg for a polar bear, why not something that was the wrong colour but the right shape? The Bears descended, their paws pounding the sand as they stood burning on either side of Oxy. Mouths composed of fire opened and shut, almost teasingly, at his side. Oxy's spear struck through one of them but nothing happened. With another laugh Gaucho flicked his tail causing the creatures to dissipate and disappear.
"What if murderer have magic like that? Spear do no good. And you probably burn all drugs too."
The words ominously slipped from his lips; neither the pair had any idea how true they were. But, that was for another time.
"Gaucho not get murdered because Gaucho not sleeping on a beach. Not because of polar bears." He corrected, leaning lazily backwards staring down at his gargantuan friend. Was he just planning on napping here all day? Were things really that kosher in the Falls that he wasn't needed? Funny. Gaucho didn't know what that felt like. Rightly or wrongly, he assumed the Throat would fall apart without him, that it would be invaded or merely go soft.
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