"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.
I was getting painfully excited, Mother! My hoof, my poor hoof that had been shattered so soon after my birth—well, it had started to grow! Not too fast, you see, nothing more than a sliver, with maybe some sort of film of healed skin that stretched over the more tender, sensitive parts—but I digress. What I mean to say, dear Mother, is that I was walking a little bit easier than before; that I was able to make my way with greater speed and confidence (although it was nothing more than a quaint little shuffle, really); that even Big Brother would allow me to be by myself sometimes, as long as he knew where I would be beforehand!
…Not that I utilized much of my freedom, though. Call me shy, but I wasn’t the kind of girl to gambol about with myself for hours at a time, dancing in the blistering heat of the Throat. Goodness, Mother, but it really does get quite hot here! Reginald says he loves it; even when the heat waves cause us both to sweat pools and we have to spend a great portion of the day underneath the shadows of the trees, he still claims that he loved the heat beating down on his back—that it gave him energy. I could see it in his eyes, too, his adoration of the blazing Throat sun. I always made me happy to see Brother so happy—but, oh Mother, I couldn’t really understand the happiness he felt for something that took your breath away and hurt your skin.
I saw him then, huddled underneath the deep shadow of a particularly large tree. I made my careful way to him, not in the least because both his presence and the shade would have provided some decent comfort; it wasn’t until I had gotten just a few lengths from him that I noticed his bowed head the intent way his eyes gazed at the something between his front legs.
“Brother…?” I called, curious at the sight—and it was at that moment that I heard it.
Peep, peep, peep…
“Oh,” I breathed to myself, for it sounded like a little chickling of a sort, the kind that I had seen in the treetops above, before the sun had become blazing. But Brother wasn’t looking in a tree; he was gazing down at what seemed to be a pile of dirt, so much so that he didn’t even turn at the sound of my voice; a rarity in itself.
“Brother!” I called again, the cool shadow of the tree washing over me as I came closer. He still didn’t move; not even his eyes made to flick beside me. I could see, however, that his muscles spazzed beneath a sweat-drenched grey hide; that he seemed painfully excited in a controlled, stoic manner. Peep, peep, peep… I tried to look around him, but the shadow was dark, and he was so bulky it took me some minutes to shuffle myself around.
“…Brother?” I tried again, quietly. This time he seemed to notice I was there, and his ear flicked in my direction.
“’Cari,” he breathed; and in that breath his voice trembled with something big, so much so that my eyes widened a little, “’Cari, come here…I’d like you to meet someone.”
Peep, peep, peep!
Carefully, I made my way around the point of his shoulder, and there, nestled between my Brother’s black feathers—was the pale remains of a porous egg, and something fuzzy and white that twitched and fidgeted in my Brother’s embrace. It nipped at the air with a great black beak that seemed heavy even as a babe; it snapped at me, at Brother, at the flies that buzzed around us. Peep, peep, PEEP!!
”Ka’Mate,” Brother whispered. I could hear his excitement clearly that time.
He bounded through the sand with no sense of decorum, because after all, this was his kingdom, his home and his hearth. Zèklè of the lightning back and missing wing and sunbeam eyes had not yet learned to that the world wasn't his, because really, wasn't it? His Ma was the best warrior in the Throat, and his Da was... well, he wasn't sure. One of the leaders, he figured, except not Tavi. One of the dude ones. He didn't really care, except that it meant that more than ever the Throat was absolutely his.
His, and maybe theirs, too, because after all they looked young and familiar and clearly had something major going on. Who could blame the colt for wanting to be involved?
He'd recognized them, sort of, from the herd meeting and also from before, from that hazy and hurried day on the island when so many things had happened he could hardly keep track. There were two, both slate, both horned, one a kid and one not- both just familiar enough to be fascinating, exciting, too tempting for the young colt to just pass by. Besides, it was hot and he was bored, and everyone had been so busy recently, and he just wanted something to do.
At the last minute he hesitated, a blackish blob on the top of a dune, torn between dashing forward and hanging back. The pair seemed so, so... absorbed in whatever was going on beneath that big tree, and what if they wanted to just be alone? Or what if it was something else, something bad? What if there was trouble and stuff and oh my Sun God, what if someone was hurt, he wondered, and they were waiting for a healer, and, and, and-
All the more reason to go down, he reasoned. Maybe they need my help!
Tumbling, stumbling, the little colt raced toward the pair, pulling up short a few lengths away but still striding forward, a grin on his face. "Y'guys ok?" Zèklè inquired, but now that he was there they certainly looked okay. He stepped into the shade of the tree, still trying to figure out what was going on. There was something the other boy had which had caught their attention, and the half-child peered around the girl, desperate to see it but not quite bold enough to really push, somehow more comfortable standing beside the pretty filly than the massive colt. So the boy asked her, "Watcha got?" flashing what he hoped was a charming smile and succeeding in a goofy, boyish grin.
If others had arrived, Gaucho might have kept flying. As it was, the commotion caused by the two children was enough to bring him down from the skies. Especially given that their only supervisor was the outcasted older brother of the dark babe. He and Reginald had not had the chance to finish their conversation during the herd meeting. The timing was not necessarily right for the conversation that needed to take place - not with so many new announcements and the presence of the Sun God. But Gaucho supposed it was time. The son of Archibald had requested to stay in the Throat not merely as a visitor, but as a member. It intrigued and confused the dun. Archibald had openly declared Gaucho his enemy by demanding his head. The dun had simply assumed that his sons would take up the stance held by his father. Loyalty was something he would have expected out of Archibald's progeny.
Descending in a flurry of blackened feathers and flame, the Wildfire landed with seemingly mismatched grace and poise upon the bloody sands. In truth he didn't mind halting his patrol of the Throat. The Tallsun heat was relentless in the Throat, especially since the Moon Goddess had been banished. Mara surveyed the trio from Gaucho's antlers, her beady eyes falling fixedly on Zero. Ampere had not so subtly implied that the boy was Gaucho's, and the snake believed her. Unfettered by questions of paternity, Vorsa flew to where the hatchling was, squawking a hello. Her brilliantly orangey-red body burst into flames quickly with her excitement, before dwindling back down. She hadn't learned to control her ability yet, but at least she wasn't as much of a fire hazard as she used to be.
Gaucho's darkened gaze fell warmly upon Zero. The last time he had seen the boy he was nursing greedily at Ampere's side, mostly ignoring the dun. Had Ampere said anymore more to him about his paternity? Had she allowed her displaced feelings for Gaucho bleed into the mind of their son? These questions lingered on his lips though remained unsaid. He nodded his antlered crown to the one-winged child, before setting his sights upon the children of Archibald.
"Yes - watcha got?" Gaucho asked, repeating the words of (his son) Zero.
There is a spell that has been cast so quickly—and so quickly, it is torn asunder by innocence.
It comes bounding on the energies of youth, lopsided in both bearing and grin—a weaker scent of lesser male, the barest sprick of a child, a boy bounding upon the magic that had encased him and his sister. His head turns slowly, eye of grey framed in dark locks, as he tears his eyes away from h i s K a ‘ M a t e and onto the youth who stands much too near his baby sister. He takes in the youth’s scent, saturated as it is in the heat of sand and a baking sun; his eyes linger on the bare chest, even when the opposite side adorns the shoulder and feathers of a wing that may be powerful one day.
It is a child he gazes at—a male child, something useless and scrawny now, yet holds the untold potential of a man and his musk. He blinks, once; his eyes remain cool, even as something warm rages within, something that has sparked the fire within him twofold. It is a voraciousness apart from him, something hungry and wild, something unhinged in a way that is not of him, but that he recognizes all the same. Slowly, his eyes drop back down upon the quivering chicklet that continues to wriggle free of the mess of eggshells, a piercing keen escaping a beak that is heavier than one would imagine on such a young creature.
The voraciousness comes from this thing.
His thing.
His Ka’Mate.
*"Yes - watcha got?"*
Grey eyes snap away from the chick, who nearly overwhelms the dark beast with images and desires for meat and sustenance, its tiny mind irrational and new, powerful in its insanity. He stifles it—for he knows the voice that speaks to him, a voice of guttural fire and primitive power, a voice he knows well. He raises his head to gaze upon the Wildfire fully, his eyes sweeping briefly upon a shy, curious smile that pulls the corners of his sister’s mouth as her eye falls upon the wingless youth.
He breathes through the sudden fire that leaps into his breast.
“This…is Ka’Mate,” he says evenly, his tone controlled and tight with the bubbling bubbling bubbling that spills behind his words, poured from the spirit of the chick. He glances down upon the crying babe; a dark muzzle lowers down to dark beak, which snaps at the tender flesh of Reginald’s face, forcing a smile to pull about his mouth. “He is hungry,” he says, and the elation is poorly hidden in the hiss of his tongue, “I must feed him…”
But even as he speaks, something scurries from the base of the tree, freed from the shadow of a rock that had rested amongst the roots. Reginald’s brow rises at the slender brown spec; he reaches forward with a broad hoof, the edges of which are too wide for the sand lizard to flee from in time. It is crushed in a matter of seconds—and it takes even less time for Ka’Mate to figure out its taste for flesh, even if the solid dark beak words with the chewy muscle for some time before he swallows it down.
“I…did not wish to be rude,” Reginald says carefully, breaking apart somewhat from the sensations that ebb from the tiny, fascinating babe that crawls about his feet with awkward, gangling limbs and a rage that is almost on par with his own, “I do not mean to ignore you, child...Sultan.” He looks up, his eye resting upon the fiery stud. Vaguely his mind wanders, wondering if the silly boy child that his sister smiles at is somehow related to this powerful stud by blood and sperm, or other means. It is a thought that is easily cast away.
“…I do believe there were still things for us to discuss?” The tone is smooth; forward. The rage of Ka’Mate does not touch his tongue, and he is proud.
@[Gaucho]
@[Zèklè]
"talk talk talk"
R E G I N A L D
Walk the razor's edge
Cut into the madness
Question all you trust
He was pretty sure the other colt didn't like him, though he didn't know why. Something about the way the grey-eyed boy glared, sized him up like Zèklè might size up a patch of clover with mold on it- the way the unicorn seemed to wonder if he should eat the lightning boy, or if Zèklè wasn't even worth it. Spindly legs shifted, uncomfortable, but the stubborn boy refused to leave.
Besides, that was when Gaucho appeared, so now he had backup.
He looked at the stallion, and saw that he was being watched, and looked away, face burning- with what? He remembered fuzzy bits of his birth, being angry with the stallion (with good reason 'cus Ma was yelling and he was hungry and 'sides it's not like Gaucho did anything to be very nice), and then impressed at the meeting, and now he didn't know what to feel. This might be his Da, after all, this or the dancing prancing Bucephawhatever. Sunbeam eyes stole another glance at the massive stallion.
Gaucho'd be much more impressive to have as a Da, 'cept he didn't love Gaucho, not like he loved Ma.
"Ack!" A cry ripped itself from his lips, sudden and shrill and full of surprise, as a bird flung itself at him, and burst into flames, and then was okay. Wide eyes shifted between Gaucho and the others, the dark duo of siblings, and when he saw that the creepy boy was talking to the Sultan he settled, not unhappily, upon the filly by his side. "That was cool!" (at this point, the majority of his vocabulary consisted of this sentence. He'd become very good at nuanced inflection of the three words. Sometimes he'd shake it up- 'That's so cool!', or 'That was awesome!' But I digress.)
A crack distracted him, made him turn back to the taller boy, and then a smear of red caught his eye and then the greedy consumption of bones and flesh and then he felt a little bit nauseous, watching the incredibly ugly ball of fluff which he realized now must be an animal wolf down the creepy boy's kill. "Eww." Admiration met revulsion in the pit of his belly: he was impressed by the other's ability to slaughter, but also repulsed by it, unnerved, and hadn't Ma said companions were bad anyway? But then Gaucho had companions, and Ma had (maybe) had a baby with him, so was Gaucho bad and then did he have a bad Da and....
He shook his head and peered back to the giant, his maybe-father, things entirely too complicated for him now. Zèklè wished he could really meet Gaucho, instead of just see him at a distance, like this, through the lens of others. He also wished the girl would invite him to go off and play, because all the tension was starting to make him fidget, his wing flexing anxiously, his barren shoulder wriggling, his feet longing to move and his brain unwilling to leave, because wouldn't that be giving up, and wasn't he better than that? Besides, he did want to make a friend, as unlikely as that seemed right now.
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