"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.
“And if another of his kind comes knocking on your door, will you open it?"
I feel my spirits are quite high today. I have Calder in two with me, heading back home to Aurora Basin. I have liked the stallion's company so far. He is not too bad to be around with, though I cannot really tell what his persona is like. I got a glint of it at the Threshold, our conversation has not been plentiful. I enjoy the silence when I am wandering around, nature offers such beauty that should not be spoiled with words.
I glance towards Calder and offer him a smile. “It shouldn't be far, their faint scent has begun to touch my nostrils,” I chuckled at my poor attempt at poetic way of speaking. My words flow out of my mouth smoothly. Like honey almost. I remember my voice once I spoke up after months of silence. Now that was a sound I would not want to hear again. I could almost taste the rust on my tongue. “We should be greeted by nobles, so put up a pretty face and practice your compliments,” I whispered with a light spirited tone coated around my words. To emphasize I pushed forward a smile.
After a few more minutes I see the entrance to Aurora Basin. I keep my head held high as my legs carry me into my home. Hello folks! I have brought a prize! I caught it all by myself!. I smile internally as my thoughts flow freely. It would be stupid not to be pleased with your first recruit. I have been in this herd for a while now and thought I would never voice my thoughts out loud I wouldn't hate to become a larger part of the herd.
A snort sounds from my nostrils as I come to a halt and glance around. “Welcome to Aurora Basin, Calder.”
TAG: @[Calder] speech
word count: 304
:: welcoming thread for Calder
It was not a long journey – not in comparison to the journey that bought him to this place. However, the circumstances this time around made for a much more pleasant adventure. His vivid blue eyes wander over the landscape – committing the landscape and the paths that seem well traveled to memory. The company helped too. Calder much preferred the companionship of his own kind to the pair otters he had begun his journey with. He returns Waprevah’s smile and offers a little dip of his head as well. “I admit that’s good to hear. I feel like I’ve been wandering for the better part of a year now.” It wasn’t too far off in terms of an estimate, really. Things had started to turn for the worst in Frostfall the year prior when the snow began to fall and just didn’t stop. It was all downhill from there, really.
As the air grew colder and the altitude climbed higher, Calder felt more and more comfortable with his surroundings. The dappled stallion had been out of his element for far too long. Even here in this strange place, so far from everything he has ever known, there was some sense of familiarity in the cold and in the snowcapped peaks. The idea of having a life somewhere away from his herd, his family. But in his eyes, going back was not an option. Forward. Always forward. He would find his place here. With every step he grew more confident that his place was here, and not on the sides of a ruined mountain. He was first to leave the mountain in his herd’s history. Even those banished never went further than the foothills. He assumed they just presumed him dead in the mudslide.
Perhaps it was best that way. Everyone had the closure they were looking for, and Calder had the opportunity that he had always craved but had never known he wanted.
His gaze lingered on the mare who confidently picked her way across the landscape. She seemed nice enough, not that Calder could attest to being a superior judge of character by any means. It had never been a gift of his - he had always been one to linger on the outskirts before... “Compliments, eh?” he mused, playfully, “I’m sure I can come up with something creative,” he says with a grumbling laugh. “You think my face will do if I put on my verra best smile?” He asks, presenting her with said exaggerated smile.
He shakes it off and finds himself more at ease as the smell of other equines again becomes evident in the cool air. They must be close then, they think. Unconsciously, he glances to Waprevah, gaging her reaction to their surroundings.
“I can see why you’re fond of it here. It’s quite something.” His eyes flicker across the landscape – committing landmarks to memory – before settling back to Waprevah and offering her another small, slightly sloping smile.
An ethereal, enigmatic relic poised and mused beneath the summits, peaks, turrets, and barricades, restless, immoral, irrepressible, maneuvering past dying, withering highlights of the forlorn edges and the crisp, autumn doldrums, motioning, unwinding, the heedless persecution of another primordial peril. Since the days of war had passed, he’d been left to indifference and nonchalance all over again, with no enemies to butcher, with no cold-blooded cadence to compose, with no chiseled, promised forbidding, he was alone to bear the vivid violence, the minatory, sinister terror behind his eyes, through his limbs. A tireless heathen, he stoked the fires of hell and wandered into their vibrant, venomous clarity, living stone and hushed marble, a constant slinking, crooning, brewing of immorality and licentiousness, crossing over the wires of mayhem, administering and maneuvering the pawns of his predilections: ensuring the confines of his brilliant, wintry towers remained just the same: lush, supreme, and dominating. As if eternally granted the craving, molten sedition of strangers lurking in the midst, as if newcomers were always eager to be seen in his scrutinizing, cold, remorseless ether, the monster became fully aware of unfamiliarity crinkling across his borders. Was it another brooding menace chiseling their way through the boughs of demise? Was it one more foolish being intending to stick their head where they didn’t belong? Was it a trace of curiosity, building, brewing, and brimming until they couldn’t see anything but mountains, strength, and determination? With his own leashed, tethered tenacity, a boiling crescendo of malevolent, menacing convictions, he slithered amidst the Basin, the Aurora King without a scepter, only a gleaming scythe, only a rapturous title. The Reaper, eyes narrowed, insouciant, seditious mind combing and carving its wake, sketched himself forward in the midst of a skulled femme (not Confutatis; he would have hissed and drawn his blade, ran it straight into her heart – this one had been at meetings, had wandered within the icy outcrops; he just had no name to her features), and a gray stallion, tall and smiling. Deimos offered neither grin nor leisurely tones, presuming there was purpose to these endeavors, to these pursuits, to these strolls beneath sentinels and hallowed horizon beyond simpers and snickers. The beast lowered his head briefly to both, then tilted his skull a mere, minute fraction, ensuring inquiry where the rest of his features had settled into perfected detachment. The chilling rasp of his blunt, rapier tones arched ferocity in their nefarious influence, in their sculpted ramparts, gaze kindling a diabolical stare; a heartless behemoth administering argent domination. “Deimos, Lord of the Basin.” He strangled the cold, unrelenting air with his own bestial, barbaric influence, traced his stare to the silvern stranger, and ushered the weight of the visitor’s ambitions, of his titles, of his wealth. “Who are you?”