"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.
She’s still so new that not even all of the green has disappeared in the southernish parts of Helovia. The land says, as she always tells if one will listen, that this season will be a brutal one indeed. Chern must soak up this northern time while she can because come mid-winter her visits will be fewer and farther between. She stands in the dwindly, weakly falling snow, small morning storm dusting the thin layer of snow already covering the ground. The trees have yet to be bent with their overwhelming pack of ice and snow, the pine branches are still waving weightlessly around in the twisting winds. The season is very young yet. More enduring trials will arrive soon enough. Her black eyes tilt curiously up to the restless gray and dark blue burbling above her head, spitting flecks of white all over her dense coal black coat.
Murdock crosses her mind as her gaze comes back down to the landscape of barren whiteness. A group of pines and furs to her back and that is all for a few miles. A brook is still somewhat unfrozen and running through somewhere to the west of her, only a few paces away from where she stands. There is tundra grass beneath her feet, cold and frozen beneath the fresh snow. While resources cross her mind Murdock is still in there somewhere, she almost wonders if she will stumble upon him tonight, or soon. It has been a while and it seems like it is just about time to see his gorgeous face again. Perhaps not though, perhaps later on; Birdsong, maybe. The last time they embraced the compelling attraction was nearly overwhelming – she hardly resisted simply through herself beneath him, but alas she did not and she has been pondering such a thing since they separated. Clearly it was time. She fidgets as the ponderings come rolling through her mind, she teases herself and tortures her subconscious for a moment before letting the subject fall away. To distract herself she grazes and listens, clearing the snow with her lip and spinning her ears about carefully.
I can't tell one from the other;
I find you, or you find me?
You’re riding the gusts of the coming storm and loving every second of it. Sometimes the turbulent air makes for tricky flying, but mostly it’s an adrenaline rush and a test of skill. You skim low today, your white and ash frame barely standing out between the clouds above and the flurries below, tail streaming out behind you like a raggedy banner.
The land is so empty and so white that it’s easy to spot the dark figure below…and upon closer inspection, the wicked blade that juts from its head. Lips curl upward in a malicious smile, and you remember: up north is getting close to unicorn territory. You’ve seen them here before, you remember, even sparred with one. And though you didn’t set out this morning looking for trouble, suddenly you find that you’re hungry for a good, old-fashioned fracas.
However, you’re not quite in the mood today to spend your energy on a full-on fight. You intend to return to warmer lands by nightfall, and you’d rather not waste your strength on this lonely figure below. Still though, you have an aerial advantage, and derailing the beast’s day before you head south won’t take long. You swoop lower, still far out of reach but close enough to give yourself a decent target, grinning in vindictive glee. Nostrils flare, and you inhale sharply, taking in the metallic scent of the snow and the pungent unicorn musk: it seems as if your mark is a female. Shaking your head, you cluck disapprovingly to yourself. How will she ever attract a he-beast and spawn more little murderers like that? Perhaps you’ll give her a bit of perfume to mask the scent. With a cackling caw, you glide low, tail raised, the contents of your bowels dropping like miniature missiles as you move by overhead. Bombs away, she-witch.
06-05-2015, 12:57 PM (This post was last modified: 06-07-2015, 07:17 PM by Chernobyl.)
Bad words below x.x
it's part of her personality to be so crass,
but if it offends i'll asterisk the crap out of it c;
also, this is the funniest thing that's ever happened to one of my characters hahhaa
--
CHERNOBYL
The whoosh of his great wings against the wind is the first sign of him she becomes alerted to. He is far off yet, she watches him while she chews the last bit of vegetation sloshing between her teeth. Her ears and eyes keep focus on him, his eyes eventually find hers – they’re awfully hawk like, she ponders, hungry for a bit of grazing rabbit it seems. She quirks her head to the side, curious at first and then a bit uncomfortable as he came closer and closer, his eyes boring holes into her skin (or so it feels like). She doesn’t flinch as he swoops by, dropping turds so very lovingly in his wake. A few bounce off of her hips and ping off of her shoulder before she steps away, watching him with a rather unimpressed look as he retreated victoriously.
“Dirty little cunt…” She grumbles to herself, looking at the feces scattered about the snowy ground. Clearly he is hydrated and grazing in warm places lately…thankfully. Had it been oozy diarrhea she might have been tempted to stalk him until he suspiciously dies. She doesn’t look to see if he has circled back, if dropping shit all over the place is really the worst he can do it doesn’t feel so threatening. She keeps an ear out for his return anyways, inspecting the rolls of poop with her eyes and nose. Information is there, waiting and ready in the steaming chunks and the mare intends to collect it. She doesn’t know of him or recognize his scent in any way. She gets all she needs, mulling it over while she raises her dark eyes to the clearing skies. The clouds are beginning to fade away now, the snow slowly ceasing, falling much more sparsely now. She cannot see whether or not the fool is circling back to do it again, this time she will dart away and let her long legs carry her off on a winding gallop. She watches to see if she has to dodge him or if he has the gall to land and confront his own ridiculousness. She’ll be waiting with a scrunched, growling stare, waiting for him to say something stupid.
Maybe she’ll get lucky and the dimwit has moved along.
I can't tell one from the other;
I find you, or you find me?
Looking over your shoulder, you let out a raucous whinny of triumph as you watch the steaming dung find its mark. Unfortunately, none of it gets her in the face, but you’re tickled enough to have hit her. Your laugh rings out over the frozen tundra before a sudden gust of wind whips it away, jerking your attention back to the flying situation at hand. Though you falter slightly, you quickly right yourself, flapping higher and swinging back to glide in a wide, lazy circle over your victim.
To your disappointment, however, she hardly seems upset. Nostrils twitch in disgust as you watch her examine the poop (who does that??), and then she simply stands there, stupid and boring. Well that’s hardly satisfying at all! It’s not enough for you to have poked the bear; you won’t be happy until she comes roaring out of her cave.
You want to scream something down at her, but then realize that you don’t have a ready insult. Whatever, you’ll think of one. In the meantime, you have no problem thinking up other ways to make yourself a nuisance. With a steely grin, you suddenly change course and head away from the mare, flapping towards the grove of pines. You touch down for only as long as it takes you to wrestle off the largest branch you can manage, and then you are skyward bound once more, flying a little more clumsily with the bough gripped firmly between your teeth. As you draw closer to the dark form, your eyes narrow in concentration, then you shake the branch as violently as you can, hoping to rain down its load of pinecones and dead needles upon her head. Because y’know, if at first you don’t succeed…you’re more than happy to try, try again.
When he squealed she could not help but look up to see him bicycling through the kay on broad, hungry wings. She laughed out loud at him, not really knowing why but just letting it go anyways. She was about to move on, thinking he was far enough away to consider him gone – oh no no, she isn’t that lucky. He turns back to gleefully finish what he started. Apparently it isn’t enough to shit on someone, something sparkling and entertaining must happen as well. She rolls her big black eyes and moves toward the woodline, beyond it there is thick brush she can hide in. This game has not been amusing since its start. She doesn’t bother to look at him; if and when she comes upon him again she will surely recognize him. She’s tired of this. Annoyed of him, done with him. Just as she starts to move into the line of trees he dumps pine cones and bits of dead needles that go bouncing off her head and back. She bucks and kicks wildly in the only protest she can possibly manage besides to just keep moving. Her blood feels thick and hot, even in the cold weather a sweat starts to build under her thick winter coat.
She slips easily into the shadows and their oily goodness accept her so eagerly. It’s almost as if they’ve been waiting for something to drive her into their inky fingers. She moves deeper yet, a trotting pace until it becomes to thick to do so. Vines have taken hold of the tree tops here, strangling out the light yet not killing their branchy friends. It is a delightful place to hide from Dive Bomb Bob back there. She snakes in, brambles grabbing and tugging at her fur and long hair, her spiked horn driving through it with ease. She cracks and crashes through until she finds herself deep enough to be hidden from him completely. She can see through small peak holes just ahead of her in case he is to land and come looking for her on foot. Oh and a ground battle seems just the tasty thing for the day. Her skin prickles at the idea, her feet fidgeting. Suddenly she finds herself hoping he comes hunting for his prey so that she may hunt hers.
I can't tell one from the other;
I find you, or you find me?
Swift as a shadow, the dark mare moves below, making for the treeline. For a moment, you worry that you won’t beat her to her cover. However, your haphazard aim is true, and the shower of detritus rains down over her head and back. She kicks, she bucks, she flees…triumphant, you drop the branch, laughing obnoxiously at her antics from above. “That’s right!” you scream down at her. “Run home! TREMBLE BEFORE GULL!” Your name is a screech, sharp and short, thrown down at her like a dagger. Perhaps it is stupid fun, but it feels good nonetheless to exert your dominance over her, to remind yourself that even monsters scurried for cover under the right circumstances.
As she crashes into the trees, you soar overhead, mostly bent on harassing her with your looming shadow. However, the brush soon becomes too thick for you to see. You swoop lower, and you can hear noise up ahead (presumably hers as she runs in terror), but you have lost the chase. You trail the sound a little while longer, but when it becomes plain that the woods will not thin ahead, large wings angle, sweeping the air under you and pointing your body south. You have no way of pursuing her now, and you have not the patience to track her for days on end. She goes where you cannot follow.
With a final self-satisfied smile, you complete your turn. Wings flap wildly for altitude once, twice…and then you are gliding away, borne by your outstretched appendages and a warmer current of air. Perhaps in the grand scheme of things, you are only just getting started, but for now…your work here is done.
OOC: He’s out! If you’d ever like to spar though, he’ll be around ;)
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