"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.
If Archibald counted the times he had visited this desert, it would be less than a human could count on one hand. When he first entered the threshold of this land, this Helovia, a lion-maned King named Ra had given him and his brother the opportunity to seek shelter here. There were many ways in which Archibald was thankful he had not chosen Ra's offer, and one of them was that soon after, the spirited Kri had taken this land as her own through war. The war of the Tuuli was the only war of Helovia--since his time here--that Archibald had not participated. There was power in that, somehow, and to this day Archibald knew that was never his war. Had he participated in the bloodshed on these desert sands, the impact of it would weigh on his mind like his participation in the Aurora Basin's invasion of the World's Edge and this very land. The Dauntless lost one of his own in that battle, and in some way he suspected that Ktulu and Ophelia never forgave him for sending their uncle to his death. While the twins may never admit it, or if it was even real, Archibald felt it.
These desert sands played a larger role in Archibald's metanarrative than he could understand. Beyond that, however, these sands had given Archibald some form of comfort the last few seasons. His children had taken refuge here after their mother's death. His beautiful Macaria had been injured too much to attempt to take her to the Falls. Instead, she stayed here, under her mammoth guardians watchful eyes. As bastardous as he knew his sons to be, Archibald knew just as well that beneath their protection no harm would fall to Macaria--his sons, his muscle and sinew and seed, would die to save their sister that was the perfect mixture of the Dauntless and the shadowmere. Now, it was time to bring her home.
It was also time to speak with the winged leadership of this place. Megaera, the sultana, had visited his borders, but there had been no true diplomacy discussed in their meeting. Archibald's mind shifted to Gaucho, and where a boiling anger would have once rose in his breast at the thought of the Wildfire, instead there only throbbed a dull ache. It was not untrue that Gaucho had caused his family immense suffering--but his part in it was not the ring leader. The primitive dun was but a pawn, a piece on the chess board. No one in Helovia was anything different than that. "Leaders of the desert, I call to you." Archibald bellowed, weight shifting to stand firm beneath the boiling sun. Loretta stood at his side, tail curled over her back.
Archibald the Dauntless
You can only get so far
With no one by your side
A dark storm lies ahead
So many callers at the door, and Megaera had a different answer for each of them it seemed. As her pregnancy progressed she had been experiencing new highs and lows in her moods and there for her tolerance of others. Her normal sociable self (at lease when it came to Dragon’s Throat) could float along in giddy bliss, excited for the child growing inside her and supremely happy with all she met, however she’d had a few days where she was liable to snap at anyone she came across for even daring to breath her air when she felt so tired and ungainly. It was perhaps fortunate for the notion of a peaceful Helovia that the Czar of the Hidden Falls came to visit on a good day.
Megaera heard the unmistakeable bellow from across the wide waters and, after aimed her path for the base of the magical bridge that would carry her to the Heart side of the salty strait. She wasn’t the size of a mountain yet, but the swell of her sides made it evident to anyone what sh’d been up to recently. On the ground, she could still get around with most of her usual grace but was starting to feel slightly unsteady in the air and so opted for the Sun’s bridge for the sake of convenience.
Wings of fire sprouted from her shoulders, unlocked by the little key she kept tucked into her feathers at the left wing joint, and lifted her across the expanse. As she glided, she stretched out her own dark wings to enjoys the lazy drifting feeling. Gwaihir soared in his usual place by her side, sticking even closer in the last few days than he usually did. Immediately upon touching down again she turned and approached the waiting stallion with a good-natured expression. “Dauntless, well met” She greeted with a welcoming nod.
Her swaying walk halted and she took stock of the stallion while the eagle settled himself on a high rock to her left. Even in in her easy mood, she knew well enough not to be too complacent around this beast. A warrior of considerable prowess and just plenty of looming menace thanks to his size; she’d been of the receiving end of a few of his blows and that had given her a good measure of respect for the stallion. Better to keep this one on the same side of battle lines if you could. “What brings you to our shores?”
There was only one reason that Archibald would be coming to his shores. Well, perhaps two, but one was decidedly more likely than the others. He comessssss for hisss children? Mara whispered into his mind, slithering over his broad forehead as the Wildfire sailed across the gulf. Gaucho only grunted in response - the serpent could see into his mind, and knew that was his conclusion as well. For her part, Vorsa glided silently next to the pair. She had never understood the hostility between her bonded and the big dark one, but today she kept her thoughts silently and sullenly to herself.
Gaucho was pleased to see Meg had already greeted Archibald. She had proven her worth time and time again as a Sultana - and Gaucho suspected that the rest of the herd was starting to see that as well.
Landing gracefully upon the auburn sands, Gaucho folded his fiery wings against his darkened flanks and moved towards the pair. His eyes first went to Meg - and her growing flanks - as he exhaled with a nod.
"Meg." He offered, before allowing his steely gaze to rest upon Archibald. Vorsa landed in Gaucho's antlers, adding to the already abundant fire that constantly burned around the dun. "Archibald." He said simply, without ire or judgement in his voice.
What brings you to our shores?
Gaucho's dark ears flickered as his Sultana voiced the question that was on his mind as well. Mara slithered forward, basking in the heat thrown off by the energetic phoenix, but also to watch the events as they were about to unfold. She felt the irritation that pulsed in Gaucho's mind at nearly every meeting with Archibald since the Moon Goddesses attacks. Her ebon gaze roamed to Archibald's companion, and silently she contemplated where the best place to strike the dog would be, should an altercation ever arise. Gaucho however, was much more passive than his companion. He had already laid his irritation out to dry with Archibald for his lack of insight. The dun didn't hold grudges.
The scent of salt and water filled his nostrils as he stood waiting, tail flciking away impestuous flies that nagged at his obsidian skin. The Dauntless was quite unused to this sort of heat--the dry, arid air that pulled breath from his lung so easily and so harshly. His Falls were much more humid, covered carefully in a cloud of moist, soft air. The taste of the air was bitter on Archiba;d's tongue, and the gladness he felt about not joining Ra all those seasons ago was a relief of his broad shoulders. The desert was miserable. Faintly he wondered how his children faired in the climate. Hopefully Macaria would enjoy the moisture of the Falls. He only wanted the filly to be safe and happy, and now that seasons had passed and her hoof was healed, he knew she was ready to come home. He was ready for her to come home. The distance between them was like a vice on Archibald's heart, and he felt it tug ever so slightly at the briefest mention of her name. As he waited for the leaders of this forsaken (to him) desert, he could only think of the beautiful, grey face of his living daughter. Sighing into the warm air, Loretta brielfy rested her head on her bonded's massive knee.
Shadows flickering across the ground brought Archibald's eye to the skies and to the sea before him. Megaera, aided by wings of fire, gracefully entered his presence. While he offered no smile or warm gesture, Archibald still lowered his head slightly in a bow of respect. While he had held little regard for her upon their first meeting, after their scuffle in the Deep Forest Archibald had grown to understand this woman held value. Golden eyes met her strange black before turning to acknowledge the Wildfire as he also entered on flaming wings--though his were his own, and no jest of the Sun God. The Dauntless Czar also offered the Sultan a respectful nod. The ache in Archibald's heart at the memory of his beloved mate, Circe, was present. But Archibald could not hold it against the stag forever--for he knew what it was like to be controlled, to be manipulated, to be ordered to commit murder. Archibald's own mother had been the black widow, spinning her web, not unlike the Moon Goddess. Shifting his weight, Archibald cleared his throat before speaking.
"I come to rekindle political ties. The Dragon's Throat helped us win our battle to gain a home in the Hidden Falls season ago. We will forever be thankful for that." As he spoke, Archibald's mane was tugged by the gentle, warm wind and the grey feather above his withers bumped against his scarred neck. It belonged to a member of the Throat, but Archibald did not know precisely whom. He had it tied in his mane to show their alliance was strong. He wanted, for the sake of both herds, for that to hold still. "Kaj and I would like to continue theis alliance. We believe both our herds would benefit from the peace, the open trade, and the training we could offer each other in battle and in healing--even, in philosophy or religion." Archibald paused, letting the offer sink in to their minds. "The Hidden Falls can offer crafting of stone, and our warriors are strong of heart and body. Should the Throat need our fortifaction in battle, we will be at your side. We ask that you offer the same for us, should the need arise. Currently, however, the only battle we need to fight together are against the corrupt gods of the lands."
After his words of political alliance, Archibald remembered the flickering image of the tigress mare in his mind. "Also--your Diviner, Maren, found her way into the Hidden Falls some weeks ago. It was after the battle of the Moon Goddess, and she intruded onto the territory and into the birth scene of a colt. I stopped her, and our healer Mikyael healed her of the foreign ailment that had plagued a great many of us. Afterwards, I escorted her from our borders. I hope no grudge is held from this, for I was only acting for the safety of my herd." He nodded his head again, confident in his statements.
"Finally, I have come for my daughter. My sons are grown, and can make the decision of staying within the desert or not on their own. Macaria is young, and I appreciate everything you have done for her in this time of despair for us. Now, however, it is time for her to be home."
Archibald the Dauntless
You can only get so far
With no one by your side
A dark storm lies ahead
He scents the brute upon the dry winds of a desert, and he knows precisely why the monster has come to call.
Ka’Ora has learned--is learning, so well, so quick, so very unlike her older, harsher brother. She detects the scent from the mind of her bonded; she stores it in her memory, etches it in the stone of her mind, ever faithful, ever studious. Sire? she offers, soaring above, her wings beating upon sunrays. Yes, her master concedes. It is Father who approaches, the bearer of the seed that sparked such grey-eyed brilliance.
His stomach twists in a way he cannot abide by—for it is a twisting he cannot control, subdue, escape. He knows why his Father comes within these halls of sand and heat; he knows what his Father searches for, the ultimate subject of his conquest. It is wrapped in the starlit form of a filly the Dauntless himself helped to create; he has come to fulfill a promise the Gey-Eye’d hated making. It is time for Macaria to go home.
He must lose his baby sister.
Ka’Ora shifts in the gentle breeze. ’Cari, she says, her primitive, hesitant speech glowing at the bastardized version of his sister’s name. She loves Macaria. It is one of the rare loves Ka’Ora possesses that Reginald abides by.
Reginald gives a soft snort as he watches his Father meet with the potentates of the harsh desert wind. She will be leaving us, he tells his bonded, Macaria shall go now to the hills and valleys of the north.
Leaving? the harpy repeats, an anguish coming about her thoughts. Leaving, leaving, leaving. It is a keen from her, an outpouring of emotion that causes the Prince’s ears to pin against his rock-hard neck. It is a dire cost of her intelligence—for Ka’Ora learns as her brother does not, and she feels as her brother does not as well. Ka’Mate listens to these things, even as Ka’Ora does. He does not care for them, does not understand the meaning of the word “leaving”. He hunts, rabid and stupid and giddy in the blood of vermin cobras between his talons. He is careless. Mindless. Reginald prefers this dim-witted, obedient bloodlust to Ka’Ora’s constant feeling, feeling, feeling.
She is an echo he cannot escape. And that is what he hates.
His eyes focus instead upon the approach of Megaera and the Wildfire, watching as they meet his Father at the border. This scene interests him in many ways; it always bemuses him that such a little spick of a mare could think herself so grand as to ever dare look in the eyes of such great, hulking creatures. Her audacity astounds him almost to laughing tears; she is barely large enough to fuck (although it seems someone managed the endeavor nonetheless), much less lead armies of men! And yet here she is, clear in her power beside the Wildfire, important and confident, as though it were her place.
Eyes of grey shift the other Sultan, the one who at least appears to deserve the rank—and here the interest kindles even hotter in the breast of the Basilisk, for he remembers the tension between Gaucho and himself when he first proffered himself as a warrior for these lands.
“Why you stay, away from family and with an enemy of your Father?"
Why indeed?
Reginald chews those words, just as he had chewed them before. He swallows the spatting response, for he keeps his fangs clean and in control within the boundaries of a herdland. I am my own man, and I have my own enemies. I have lived apart from my Father since I was a young boy. My life is free for me to choose, and I have chosen the desert sands to reside in. There are many things he could say, many things he should’ve said, many things that no longer matter, for the speck of a harlot allowed him entry regardless of his…loyalties.
…but none of these musings matter. He knows why he allows them to stay his hoof, to keep him rooted. He sighs; Ka’Ora continues to keen overhead. He does not need to greet his Father. The Dauntless did not come for his son.
Leaving, leaving, leaving!
He turns; there is someone he must fetch, and he knows where she loves to play.
."talk talk talk"
R E G I N A L D
Walk the razor's edge
Cut into the madness
Question all you trust
11-10-2015, 09:58 PM (This post was last modified: 11-10-2015, 09:59 PM by Megaera.
Edit Reason: taaaaggggs
)
Megaera’s heart beat a little slower once Gaucho touched down to join them. It was not as if the Dauntless seemed of a mind to make trouble, but no matter the situation the presence of her mentor always made her feel better. It was, all at once a calming and and energizing thing, like with him near nothing so very bad could happen. Confidence, in herself, in her position of authority, all of it had originated with the Wildfire and surged because he was there to back her up. The Sunspear’s let one hip fall into a more relaxed stance as she turned her head to greet him. Meg caught the glance at her sides but couldn’t quite decipher the dun stallion’s opinion on her new state of being. Well, it hadn’t been intentional but for the moment she was rather pleased with the prospect of carrying Einarr’s child—though that outlook might well shift to panicky and distressed when her mood fell again.
Megaera listened attentively while the equine spoke, face falling into a more solemn cast for dealing with the business of Archibald’s visit.. The offer of an alliance was not unwelcome to her, with the actions of the gods causing havoc on the eastern boarders of Helovia, it would be good to know the eastern herd would be a ready ally. The only dealing she’d had with the Falls had been fairly unpleasant, but leadership had changed since then... So many things had changed since then. Four gods and four battles, Meg hoped that that would be the end of it, but at her count they’d only faced three so far. Neither of the other matters raised any alarm with her so she let him speak until he was finished.
She could see no obstacles, but still, she glanced at Gaucho. He had never been one for many words—though what he did speak always carried more weight for it— so it seemed rather natural that she would be the one to answer at least the less pressing items on the Dauntless's agenda. “As far as trade and training go, I would be cautious while these sicknesses persist. Maren should not have been so far into your territory in that state but I appreciate your healer’s attention. In fact the Throat owes you for more than just Maren’s health, Mikyael came across Ranjiri and myself in the Meadow not long past and healed us with no regard to who we were or the energy it would cost him. A generous soul, he is, and does the Falls great credit.” She gave a small nod to convey her respect for the healer.
His daughter… she had seen the girl but could not recall her name, and there was another brother too, besides the one she had spoken with; the faces all flashed before her before she spoke again. “I am glad that we could offer your daughter shelter when it was needed and you are welcome to come and fetch her, Gaucho or I can escort you both across the bridge when we've concluded our business here.”
Meg paused, searching to catch the dun's eye before turning her gaze back to the other behemoth; if Gaucho disagreed outright he would stop her, she was sure. Still, she wouldn't give a firm answer before he did. He knew more of the leaders of the Falls than she did and though their titles might set them on an even footing, it would never feel right to try and supercede her commander. “I agree it would serve of both well to keep the bond between our lands strong, especially in the face of these unexplored lands to the east and the wild beasts they have brought with them.” She noticed he did not necessarily exclude the gods of Helovia from that branding of corruption and worded her response accordingly. She had seen at least part of his attack on the Goddess but knew not his reasons. If he felt the same about the Sun God and acted against her patron, that was where the alliance would end. “Gaucho?” She turned her eyes to the Wildfire and waited for him to give the yes or the no.
Gaucho was not entirely surprised to hear that Maren had wandered into the Falls. Though that Archibald would bring it up in a way that suggested she was trespassing. Especially given that he was here to seemingly rekindle political ties. What was going on the Falls, such that an unobtrusive force such as Maren, would need to be escorted out by their leader? Gaucho snorted, but said nothing as Archibald spoke. He was not about to offer the Dauntless advice about how to lead his herd - though the Wildfire did find it slightly odd.
Gaucho's muscular neck flexed as Meg recounted how Mikyael had offered aid. For that he was well and truly thankful. The only means by which Gaucho was able to relieve his herd of the black sickness that descended upon them, was through bitter and painful burning. That Mikyael could achieve the same task much more passively was indeed a blessing.
"She has healed and grown well here." Gaucho said finally as Archibald mentioned his daughter. The girl had been here for seasons longer than Gaucho had expected - and he wondered silently to himself if that wasn't just so that others would raise her, given that Archibald's mate was no longer around to do so. Though, to voice those thoughts would certainly be to open a can of worms that the two titans had seemingly and finally closed.
Sombrely, Gaucho exhaled. He met Meg's gaze, and the depths of his steely eyes voiced the concern he felt over offering a blanket alliance. "Crafters, Healers, and Warriors have much to learn from Falls, and Falls from Throat. Throat offers same alliance that Gaucho had with Midas - be on friendly terms, but warriors of Throat not just come if Falls call. We not here to fight wars not our own. We come if fight is just." His antlered crown rose, to regard Archibald calmly. He was unsure as to whether Archibald would see the logic of his tactic, or if he had indeed come here for a blanket alliance with the Throat. Gaucho hoped that it would be the latter, so that the two could finally come away from one conversation without nearly resorting to violence. But Gaucho was not about to put the Throat at the mercy of any leader not within their sands. They would move on his - and Meg's - commands alone. And the Throat would not be held by the tether of obligation.
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