"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.
A story is a way of preserving the memories of those long forgotten to time.
Summer's grasp upon the world was weakening. Soon, the leaves of trees would turn to beautiful shades of brown, red and gold, and the air would chill and snow would fall. However there would be that lull between Summer and Winter, where the air would be pleasant and the world colored so beautifully it would be as if the world's best artists gathered to paint every leaf a different hue.
We trudge through the mountains, Elodin and I, in search of the place called the Aurora Basin. I didn't know precisely where it was, but it did not stop me from searching. It was, actually, sheer luck I stumbled across the entrance, and the sight that greeted me there took my breath away.
Giant statues of metal loomed, sentinels standing guard. T'was like something out of a myth, one of my stories, and it only made me itch to see what grand place was beyond the statues. However, despite my curiosity I do not pass, no. This was clearly the threshold, the border to their herd. I would not insult my potential hosts so, not when a good first impression was needed.
So I merely watched Elodin as he played around, exploring everything with the utter fearlessness of a child. As he ventured free, I kept a sharp gaze up at the sky, fearful for avian predators to take advantage of the small antelope. Once, I had seen a hawk dive for my bondmate, and it was by sheer luck he managed to get to cover and hide long enough for me to charge over and chase the raptor off. He had stuck to me like glue afterwards, although apparently that had worn off.
My mismatched gaze roamed towards the Basin, ears pricked, trying to pick up the sounds of approaching feet. Was this the Basin, or had I stumbled across something else?
OOC: Kvo is here to speak with the leads/rank of the basin about Troupe matters :3 AKA spending a season with the Basin to share stories, barter, perform for the Basin and offer aid in matters not relating to fighting
""Speech."
Diabolical insurrection reared its devouring discord in one more raptorial predilection, seething and searing, treacherous considerations winding towards the borders in another summons. A petulant portion of him, left over from childhood and renegade, imperious considerations, thought almost to ignore the beckoning entirely: too many times he’d been dragged across the grounds with no carnage, with no violence, with naught but harbored strife, newcomers, or wayfaring infidels yearning to search throughout their home. He was not the Basin’s welcome wagon, furnished and lacquered with sunny dispositions and hidden agendas; his reticent rapier was a howling bout of silent, unholy venues, bedlam destruction, impending, formidable menace, and the rancorous bits of his undulating prowess couldn’t conceal his distorted debauchery. It moved and maneuvered throughout his essence, a poet’s macabre glee, a bard’s taste of devastation and licentious creeds, savage temptation, heinous, ferocious danger - however, he still channeled motion, primordial, fiendish incantations blending into the light and hedonistic elation of an antagonistic prowess, breathing iron and intimidation through each masterful step, through each cunning declaration, the Lord, the King, the Reaper of winter and all of its recherché shades. His eyes wove a piercing desolation, scraping away at the scene laden before him: machines, sentinels, polished and gleaming in the sunlight, a rumbling threat, the first of many when one regarded the Basin. The stranger, at least furnished and garbed with a cutlass, stood along its outreach with some peculiar looking animal, basking in the hollowed sanction of their immoral reception. On molten chords, on vehement echoes, he regarded and slid in a blade’s gesture; a constant, reeling source of acrimony, hostility, and ruin, the foretold, the foreshadowed, scythe of abomination and havoc, narrowing his gaze, stepping into the boundaries, Hades’ settled near his chosen throne. Not a moment of recognition filtered through his core, no scents presented in an earnest fashion, no marks of devilry, no hints of whereabouts, meetings, or transgressions chiseled and sculpted along the scene – the creature was entirely unknown to him. Was he a threat? Was he a messenger? Was he eager to pull something untoward along the glacier walls, upon the rubble pathways, across the heathen summits (Deimos almost wished it too – because then he’d have an excuse to run his rapier through a lurking stranger, to taste the art, the heights, the ambrosia of violence again and again, drunk on its siren calls)? He spent a long, silent consideration beneath the wake of the sentinels, scrutinizing, analyzing, studying, and examining, an intimidating drum of quiet, an overwhelming, smoking contemplation, until he eventually parted his jaws in short, curt, blunt candor. “I am Deimos, Lord of the Basin.” The same speech, delivered again and again, informing the world of his mastery of the domain, of him, another weapon tucked into the Siberian reign. “Why are you here?”
[@[Kvothe] Do you want to be tagged each time? :D]
DEIMOS the REAPER I'm eating all your kings and queens