"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 just like the weather. Can't hold her together.
Who is she? She knows what she is not, but not what she is. She is not the resplendent queen like her mother, a being rippling in femininity and grace. She is not the bloodlusting warrior like her father, a being draped in blood and rage. She tries to slip into the skin of huntress, the pet name her mother gave her so many seasons ago. That title only causes her to wonder.. What is her prey? Who is she hunting? How can she be a huntress if there is no hunt to enact upon? Arya knows she is barely more than a maiden, and she just stands questioning the very purpose of her existence. All her life she knew what she had wanted to be. She wanted to be a hero, a glimmering pillar of strength and power. What is a hero even? Everything had been so black and white in her youth. The world is nothing but grey to her now. It frustrates her. This strange crisis she has entered in transition from filly to mare rattles her to the core. Despite the fear the burns beneath her surface, she remains calm and cool upon the surface. The heat of the huntress has slowly turned cold. She contains her fury, trapping it somewhere deep inside of her.
This crisis of sorts drives her away from the icy grips of the Basin. With the passing seasons it has grown to feel less and less like home.. It is her parents home and whether it is her home is to be seen. So she just trots onward, the place around her foreign and new. The huntress takes in the details of the strange place, the darkness around her causing one ear to swivel back against her skull. She comes to a stop and scents. “What the hell is this place?” She mutters.
She had felt happiness, she had felt pride; those moments of glory after they had defeated the False Gods. She had felt her worth surging, for she had protected them and them. And all of them; they had fought so vigorously together, in so much unison and now everyone was moving on, once again. Letting the lines of their short-lived alliances fade. As much as she had trusted on their protection then, as of now it would be just an empty promise.
And perhaps it was because of that that she felt a strange sense of... apathy. After the Labyrinth and the Bloodfalls had been conserved, what Maren was left with was just the burned, quivering skin, the bitter bubbling boils that kept erupting like tasteless vulcanos and a half-filled vial of Good blood because she drank the other half in an attempt filled with desperation to get rid of her pain... — she could not help it that now there was an ache that did not originated from the scorched hurt, but from somewhere inside her; a very silent, almost unnoticeable frustration.
Possibly it was the frustration with herself for having expectations; A victory dance, or whatever would have at least made her feel like they had actually won.
Maybe it just wasn’t over yet.
Nevertheless, she was here. Finding her way through the flaming forest once again. This time it was silent, for this time there was no False Bear God shadowing the red shimmering water with its darkness, fueled by an ill mind — And there were no Rifters, no shattered souls (ill, foul, filthy creatures) here that stained the air with their sick breaths.
There was, however, one young mare present. They had so far shared their fiery canopy in silence. She looked a bit lifeless for some reason, but she was muttering to herself something she could not decipher. Then she realized she had seen the girl with the two glass-horns before. With faint interest, Maren walked up to her, interested in what the girl could possibly be brooding about in this literally god-forsaken place. “Goodday,” she welcomed herself in her outlandish tunes. Maren couldn’t help but be slightly amused by this sight. The corners of her lips quivered up-wards, not hiding it. Her gold eyes, however, stayed silent as they always were. “You look like you are thinking too much about something.” But despite putting it as a negative, she sounded rather happy about it.
09-22-2015, 12:04 AM (This post was last modified: 09-22-2015, 12:05 AM by Arya.)
She's just like the weather. Can't hold her together.
Someone interrupts her frustrated brooding. The words that break through the air do little to ease her hidden irritations and thoughts. Arya turns her cool blue gaze upon the other mare, her eyes studying her curiously. The huntress notes the peculiar wings that grow from the back of the mare’s head. She cannot fathom the purpose of such appendages. Is the mare some kind of bizarre hybrid? Or maybe a pegasus who simply is robbed of the gift of flight? Her father’s ideals slip into her mind, his subtle attempts at turning her against the winged and the hornless. Arya cannot help but feel a sense of pity for the other mare, for in her mind she is robbed of the greatest benefit of her species. A pegasus who cannot fly is like a unicorn without a horn. Maybe this lady is content in her place, or maybe all the pegasi from her place of origin are like her.
After her extended silence Arya finally speaks. “Goodday,” she says dipping her head ever so slightly in greeting. “I would say I am not thinking enough on this particular matter.” Her head turns back to the sight before her and she looks about. That natural curiosity in her sparks at the sight of this new place. The darkness leaves her confused and she furrows her brows ever so slightly. The huntress bears no knowledge of the battles fought or the gods fallen here. All she knows is she treads somewhere foreign, her eyes turning back to the mare.
“What is this place?” Arya asks, looking at her expectantly for an answer. Intensity slips into her blue eyes and she stares at the strange pegasus, her gaze unwavering. “I’m born of Helovia and yet I’ve never laid eyes on this place before.” It cannot be said the huntress has scoured every corner of Helovia for the herdlands still remain unexplored. Perhaps even the unclaimed lands remain untouched by her gaze, but this place.. It simply seems… Foreign. "talk"
She didn’t immediately reply, lay down a silent interval in which Maren put one of her back hooves on rest and let the slight forestry-breeze fall against her cheeks. The leaves that burned fiery red above their heads shuffled quietly in a rhythmic song as the hazy sun far above them adorned them with a golden outline as they stood in their darkening shadows.
The mare (where had she spotted the unicorn before?) turned her cool blue gaze towards her, showing Maren where the contrast lie between warm and cold in this frame: One filled with singing branches and bitter stares. Her blue glare seemed to be travelling over her own tiger striped frame and the diviner let herself be... well, admired for a moment by the trails that left sparkly itching remnants behind as it went. But perhaps that electric air was simply what remained from the clash between Gods that had finalized here —to continue somewhere else.
But then the stranger-mare greeted her, as well, and Maren’s lips pulled up a bit. I appear to have been... accepted. However, next thing the girl admitted to the contrary of what the diviner’s amusement had caused and she turned her gaze towards the red falls in disappointment. Dear Lord, why do I still try to have expectations these days? For they seemed to be easier left home and alone, for why —Why would she even bother carry that heavy basket along with her if no one ever would attempt to enlighten it. But when she looked back at the girl her brow was furrowed into a thoughtful frown, and she wondered why the girl would lied to her about not thinking before.
What is this place?
“See, you are thinking,” she hummed amused, more meant for her own verdict. Smiling, maren’s gold eyes travelled over the topic of their turned conversation: Looked admiringly at the reflections of flaming leaves in the only slightly disrupted water that also bore a remarkable red color.
I’m not sure if you would believe me, even if I told.
She sighed as she tried to relax her stiff and aching shoulders. “This land isn’t a native Helovian land, which might explain your confusion,” she told. “It was part of another land that exists somewhere else called the Rift. The God of the Spark brought it here through time in order to expand Helovia, from what I’ve heard. “—Myself and my brethren are cleansing your lands and liberating you from gods”, was what He told us and those who had come through the time-shred, along with this new land." Her mind grew dark as she reminded herself of those foul creatures; still lurking, still free.
—Accepted, too.
"In order to do that He and those currently present had to kill the false God that was still roaming here in his bear-like form.” She sighed at the memory; one that still rebelled against the logic in her brain. “Amongst them I, too.” But —as her coat shimmered in the slime of the aftertaste filled with battle wounds, burns and sickness— was she proud?
"If I am correct they call this place the Blood Falls now."
.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
