"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.
Another sunrise.
Another day.
Another start.
Another end.
Father Time is inaccurately named. For his role is more of the taunting elder brother. He is fast talking and is hasty to thrust forward ridiculous dares. Make yourself remembered Demothi. Or fade into oblivion. I can see him shrugging his shoulder nonchalantly. The rising and falling sun are his personal jabs from him to I. Passing night into day and day to night is his way of saying I am taking too long.
Bare treess creak and groan, crying out, at the weight of the unrelenting Frostfall. A piece of bark from one of the trees is absentmindedly tossed about in my mouth. I rake my eyes over the stunted trees of the Steppe. I won't ever allow myself to carry their weakened appearance.
Turning casually on my heel I amble towards the nearest water source. My curl ridden tail trails behind me. D*mn curls. If not for the flies I would rub it out like my mane.
Moments pass and I reach a frozen stream. Pawing at it I spit my bark to the ground and replace it with a mouthful of icy water. My eyes widen with the first gulp. It is an icy shot down my throat and washes to my stomach. After a few swallows I save a mouthful and breathe through my nose. It will be repayment for the bark I took from the tree.
Pawing away the snow near my tree I open my mouth to allow the water to fall to the ground. Standing with quiet satisfaction I watch the water disappear as the tree soaks it up.
"Now quit your fussing," my voice is smooth with a much softer tone. I almost sound fatherly, "Drink up. Spring will come once more." Time has a soft spot for trees. These scraggly saplings will see many more seasons. Trees are the sentinels for Father Time, keeping watch for centuries on end. Perhaps this one can put in a good word for me.
Hiccups bounce from my throat and skip through the quiet landscape.
08-11-2015, 01:53 PM (This post was last modified: 08-11-2015, 01:57 PM by Zandora.)
Zandora I already know I'm going to hell So at this very point... It's go big or go home
Zandora was happy. How strange it was, the feeling of joy. She had some awesome encounters recently, and her icy heart felt thawed. Although she still had that nagging feeling that something was wrong, and that she was still a mental wreck, Zandora would not let those thoughts ruin her moments of bliss, even if it was just that; a moment. She wouldn’t abuse her time, she would indulge of every second that allowed to her to be okay. That was how life was going to work now, somehow in the future she would overcome this bump in the road, but whilst she was still climbing to get over this mountain of mistakes, she would make every beat of her heart count.
The cold surrounded her, the icy wind biting at her coat like thousands of needles. She had found herself wondering around in the frigid temperatures for quite a while now, her skin slowly started to get used to such winds as frostfall continued to disperse it’s wrath upon Helovia. The sound of the wind howled in her ears as she searched for water, her head arching low to power through the gusty breath of frost. Trees begun to spot the frozen landscape, a small translucent stream rippling through the white dunes.
As she continued to fight the strong winds, her mind focusing on placing one dagger in the front of the other, she nearly ran into the man her eyes had been so trained on the ground. Zandora’s head shot up as she looked her -almost- roadkill over. His coat was of fine creams and browns, a dorsal like marking trailing his spine. His tassels fell in thick wavy curls, and his mane was bleached and cropped. His face was studded with two goat horns that curved away from his face, as well as ear piercings and nasal spurs. Quite a sight he was, all ivorys and rusts. Her voice of smokes and honeys, low and sharp sung out. [color= #000000]“Sorry about that, this damn weather throwing me off.”[/color] She muttered, eyes void of emotion looking in his pools.
Thin lines. Thin lines between love and hate. Thin lines between life and death. Thin lines between-- my thoughts are cut short
Does the ground offer such enthralling conversation? My neck arches along with my brow at such careless romping about. Her eyes stop me though.
Thin lines on her face. Soft. Faint as the shy spring breeze; but there all the same. They tell of the stress of life. Lines of worry. Lines of sorrow. Lines of anger. And even lines of happiness. A face carries them all. But the look in this mare's eye, so void, makes me question what nature her lines were born from.
"Nearly plowed me down." A sly smile begins to sprawl crookedly on my features, "Going to have to make it up to me." The soft snow protests the heavy weight of my hooves as I approach the mare. "Tell me," I lower my head to whisper into her dainty ear, "What took the light from your eyes?" My eyes watch as my breath brushes against the fine hairs lining her ear. Once I know my question has settled with her I pull a step away. The eerie quiet of the steppe settles around our bodies. "Surely it is not also the doings of this weather?" My voice rumbles in the empty space between us.
I survey the barren landscape in order to keep my eyes off of her. When was the last time that I had been so close to another? My eyes dull over with the lack of memories. My life is filled with holes never to be filled again.
"Demothi." I clear my throat. I am not used to speaking so many words, although even now, what I speak is little. "Is my name." At least that is something I have never lost. I had to be introduced to my family and friends but I had not lost myself. My name is still my own.
08-20-2015, 12:55 AM (This post was last modified: 08-20-2015, 09:13 AM by Zandora.)
Zandora I already know I'm going to hell So at this very point... It's go big or go home
Eyes of stark violet flashed her amusement, delicate ears tipping back as she relaxed into her skin, he had no intent of hurting her. She let her gaze fall upon the curve of his horns, she had always wanted a pair of her own and the cream male worked the set of horns very well. Zandora noticed the look on his face, one she knew to well, one that she herself had carried many times, one that now slipped onto her features as well. "That would've been a shame." The ebonite mare chuckled, life lighting behind orbs that have mastered the art of only showing select emotions.
Her brow arched at his next words, a sultry smile melting onto luring lips. "Oh really?" She paused, mirth lacing her looks. "What could someone such as me, do for a brute like you?" Zandora questioned, playing along with his little game.
The tickle of his breath chilled her spin and sent her skin crawling, his words sinking into the depths of her layered shell. Questioning dared to arise, to taunt, to further destroy, but Zandora stood strong and answered without cracking. "Desolation perhaps or maybe that fact that my father is a devil." She said, her muzzle lifting up to reach his own ear. Her voice still held their soft silky luxurious tones, but there was a seriousness about it that suggested that she was speaking the truth; which she was. She felt the familiar gnawing on her skin, but she continued to push it away and hide.
The cold enveloped her as he pulled away, she wanted the stranger's warmth back, to be close to
and warmed by his body heat, but instead she shivered, her breath a white cloud. "I actually enjoy this weather, recently it's just been too cold and it throws me off." Zandora said, lanterns peering into his own pools. "Do tragedies entertain you?" She asked, wondering why he was curious, not many around here dared to scratch the surface. No. Few could hold the burdens of others, not because of their selfishness, but rather because of their inability to carry the extra weight on shoulders that bared too much already. It was simply a predicament that she had become accustom to, that all had become accustom too.
"Zandora" Her voice echoed in the barrens of full frostfall, so beautiful yet so dangerous. "Lovely to meet you, Demonthi." She stated, tasting his name on her tongue. Something about the stag intrigued her, and although she didn't know what, she felt inclined to get to know the horned creature.
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