"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.
For the better part of the morning, it's breathtakingly humid and sunny. The only clouds to be seen are far from here; draped over the horizon.
As was the way of this natural world, a pretty face isn't meant to last -- this beautiful weather took a turn for the worse before the afternoon could hit a comfortable high. A seemingly fair holiday on the beach is ruined by a drum and the echoing chorus of drizzle falling from the charcoal sky. Those fluffy wools in west became ominous sheep. Their depthless shadows casting a wide mist over distant waves. An occasional flash of light, so brief it would've been missed by those who blinked.
Thunder sets a grim mood for the cinnamon colored figure who is smartly huddled in a shallow cliff cave. The ocean roars its fury no more than thirty feet away; stretching foamy hands to claim him -- clawing at the sand with clasping nails that rake as they are pulled back. Recoiling as a snake would, striking as far as the laws of this world would allow. But the young one hides, avoiding the wrath of nature -- as all things would when able. The stones above, quake -- trembling in their socks, yet holding firm.
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Those crusty, two toned walls aren't exactly yummy to stare at, but they ARE bone dry and warmer than the frigid wind. Surprisingly dry actually...It was as if the tide once could reach each crevice in this cavern, and now it no longer did. Or rather, no longer could. There's no point mulling over it... I'm not one to think deep into things; there are larger concerns at hand. Such as my tornado and...well...I'm sure there IS something more to be concerned about. It'll come to me.
30 minutes later...
Uck. I'm bored.
Gems scan the cold shoreline, lazy, already tired of waiting for this storm to eventually blow itself out. My idle thoughts drift to a rarely accessed memory. Eyes flash across this membrane, a mirror of my own. Her pale, supple curves are plump, yet shapely enough to be considered beautiful to most men. A warm wing slides lovingly across my spine; an old shadow I'd hide in during wet weather like this...
Cloven hooves pressed into the damp earth, tiny particles of sand sticking to her form as she moved. The coastline was not a favored place for Niska. She hated the course feel of the grit on her pelt. Hated the sharp, salty, stink in the air. Hated the brittle cold that always seemed to blow in off the waves and nip at her form. Hatred seemed to fill her up, consuming her. She didn't know why it filled her so. Perhaps she was just having one of those days, after all she was of the female kind. It probably did have a part to play in her mood, but really she was disgruntled that some sly fox had managed to steal from her. Steal her precious jewelry from her duel horns. An angry snort blew from her maw.
Despite feeling this way, the young fem felt an air of importance and power as her lithe peds pulled her along the terrain. Even now as she trotted along, the already darkening day seemed to cloud further, the brewing storm worsening behind her. It was almost as if her mood was forming the black clouds. The thunder acting as her angry roar, chasing the carefree soft wisps of cloud from the sky and eating up the sun. Of course she didn't have this power, and nobody she knew did. Niska was not stupid though, she would need to find shelter soon, her pelt was already with slick with rain. Luckily a cave, albeit a shallow cave, was formed into the cliff surface not far from the shoreline where she idled. Though even now she could see a pale form peaking from the shadows.
As she drew near, her eyes darted over his form, their pale purple hue taking in all that he was. He was of course a brute, he was of similar size and build to herself. He adorned horns and wings. A hybrid. The word, although not spoken, left a sour taste in her mouth. She disliked all the other species, they were all beneath her and impure. Equines were dull and boring. She felt slightly sorry for them, as they were not, in her opinion, gifted in anyway. Those with wings she couldn't fathom, they were unhorned and thus not gifted, but they possessed the means of flight. It ticked her off that such a beast could fly, yet she was unable. Jealousy was a tough pill to swallow.
The hatred she had been feeling, boiled and bubbled within her veins. She didn't know this stag, nor have any reason to attack him, but she did so anyway. Without warning she let her casual gait turn into a leaping sprint. Once close enough, she reared up. Aiming to bash her forelimbs into his right shoulder, or possibly his wing. Her nape still managed to arch delicately, forcing her duel horns to point towards his form.
My mind sips from the brackish pool of memory. Out of boredom I'd subconsciously chosen my dearly departed mother as a source for fixation. Which, it was quite untrue to think of her as, 'dearly departed.' No, that vixen wasn't dead. In all likelihood, my momma was out in the world maneuvering someone; feeding like a leech off their insecurities. Still, it's natural for me to think of her in such a distant, unobtainable way. Probably because I wouldn't ever lay eyes on her again; or be aware of the problematic brothers and sisters her unchecked sport would spawn. No. It was just me, myself, and I.
Still...this youthful heart did stupidly long for the company of her presence -- however brief.
Lost in the blissful realm of 'me;' I didn't notice the alarming rate at which another individual approached. Her footsteps, though bold and unmasked -- are conveniently muffled by the tropical thunder. When I did notice; it was from the corner of one eye as she was barreling for my little cavern. This adolescent stare flicks to the sleek, rain soaked ripple of her shoulders and breast. I waste precious moments tracing droplets of rain gliding down the mature, feminine shape of her developing muscles. Hot dang, was my first impression. Gems shoot their confusion to that ivory mask with increasing alarm when the girl DIDN'T slow -- my late second view was, 'your getting c-.'
When her powerful frame rears, successfully blocking the light I automatically cringe back into the cave. A sharp pain deflects my rump from retreat; somewhere in the dark a jagged piece of old coral on the far wall tries to stab into the fleshy meat of my left buttock. "WHAT TH-" The curse dies on my tongue as her rearing toes break through that narrow opening. My crown slides left, instinctively defending itself from the coming blow. Sadly, this inexperienced right shoulder is bare; anticipation only brightens my fear. The creamy wing tightens just as a her crazed forehoof digs down into the soft skin. (Though the blow didn't break my fleshcoat, in fact, it would only leave a bruise.) The sudden onset of pain sends a startled cry from my throat, magnified because of fucking box we're in! Both ears slice back against my skull, searing fury for this injustice, replaces anxiety and fear -- it rises like a hot wave to meet her insanity.
The wind circling this body is unknowingly (to me) providing a cushion, armored protection to soften the dull scrape of that first attack. Those eyeball poking weapons spiraling from her forehead are aimed to preform experimental surgery. I meet her scalpel head on, or rather,horn on. My antlered crown tips down, aiming all jeweled prongs in the direction of those pale swords. DEFLECT. Her size is overwhelming when blocking a tiny entrance. I need to get out from under these cliffs. "Bitc-," my tongue slips out from under a raspy breath; hardly loud enough to be noticed above the waves and rain.
These lips unclamp, but my teeth are still clinched hatefully together as this cranium sinks below my breast with my antlers still pointing at an angle. I thrust forward, pushing hard off my hindquarters and attempting to collide with her chest; hopefully to drive this witch from my den -- so I can also emerge and kick the ever-living shit out of her.