"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.
10-18-2015, 07:01 PM (This post was last modified: 10-18-2015, 07:01 PM by Ampere.)
Are you ready for
The perfect storm
Motion below drew Ampere's eye to a familiar frame lingering beneath her, cast like the little dark shadow he supposedly emulated. She did not see his darkness when she viewed him though, she only saw that guiding light that he ensconced, moon and star, silver and pure; cold, but comforting when there was nothing else. She smiled faintly, likely unnoticed with her border of foliage, but it was there all the same. Still, her heart weighed heavy, her forgiveness not yet given for the scars he had left on her. She didn't see the bird now, but she knew it was there, that it would always be there forever more. She sighed.
Her gaze had lifted back up to watch the Earth and the portal, and to keep herself from dwelling any more on what she missed about Mesec. A voice drew the blue of her stare back down however, and there she saw the familiarly marked ivy boy. "Ilios," she greeted casually, a faint smile mirroring his. "Any time, perhaps on our way back to the Throat?" She spoke less lightly then, because she recognized how easily she discussed this inevitable god slaying like it was just another errand to run for the realm. Would they both still be here to talk on the way back?
What did he want to talk about? Normally Maren the diviner was the best one to seek advice from, though she could certainly burn like the very sun she praised - but was Ampere any softer?
She would have mused on it longer if not for some shouting that stirred up. Anticipating the start of the fight Ampere's muscles tensed and her head whipped around, but what she saw was not a god, just a filly and a stallion barely grown. She recognized him faintly, he'd been in and out of the Throat caring for that filly. They were a quiet sort. The upset girl she didn't know, but that didn't matter because her reasoning was sound. He stole from her Ampere thought with a growing ire, the Whatch flaring up inside of her. She stayed where she was though, because already others stepped in, a bravery she didn't often get to witness. Curious, Ampere crept closer on her branches, their boughs swaying as she edged nearer. The pegasus mare seemed faintly familiar too, but Ampere had lost her name.
Before she could investigate further the God spoke, and Ampere turned to watch him. That he shared Isopia's name was not a known secret to Ampere - she had always known the girl as Raven by the nature of their relationship, however her true name would prove useful, so Ampere held onto it. Though, she was not the best with names, so might just as quickly lose it after today.
No Ampere was not nearly as interested in the demi-god's calling as she was her gift. Blue eyes widened, then hardened, as the gleaming egg slipped down. The continued chaos with the thieving stallion went unnoticed even as Archibald bellowed for it and a unicorn boy she didn't know spoke of murder.
Ampere's gaze was fixed on Raven, on Isopia, and the life that was so flippantly given away like it was little more than a toy he'd picked up on his travels. Rage sparked around Ampere with blue energy, and her teeth ground with an audible squeak that made her bones shudder.
Now she really wanted to kill the Earth.
A M P E R E HALO OF COLD HAIR &_LIGHTNING
schwartz.deviantart.com
AMPERE IS USING THIS MAGIC IN HER GENERAL VICINITY IF ANYONE SICK THINKS IT WOULD HELP:
:: [ Magic: EarthxSpark (U) | able to convert organic matter (non-animal) into electricity and shape it, usually into animals, for temporary animation and use ]
Mentions: Mesec, Ilios, Isopia, and the VitaniAbraham clash
Tag me only if starting a new thread.
Magic or force permitted any time, aside from death.
Abraham recognized the look in the eyes of the God as he glanced over him. It was some form of pride, something his father and mother had looked at him with. Bihued eyes moved now toward the Dauntless, the white dragon on his back trilling toward the form of the Czar's cur. Loretta had been the one Abraham watched hunt, so that he could in turn feed the white when she was but a babe--and then Brienne when she too was a hatchling. Shifting his weight, Abraham waited to see what the God would say today. Dark ears flicked upon his head, down into his dark mane when he watched Isopia's form stand near the god. He called her daughter. A sinister, sickening smile lit Abraham's sinister, yet handsome, features. He had defeated a demigod in battle. Arrogance swelled in his massive chest, his muscles tightening as he seemed to grow in size.
However, Abraham was pulled from his glory when several voices snapped at him. The first was Mordecai and her words followed a bite to his shoulder. Gwyneverre hissed from her perch upon the leviathan's withers, and the dragon warned the smaller woman with a small, searing flame dancing off of a forked tongue. Rows of razor-sharp teeth glistened in the daylight. Brienne could not be bothered by the equipeg's bite. She always liked the brindled girl, and she snickered over the bond at her reaction to Abraham's absence. Little girl like you. She jested, tapping her taloned fingers against Abraham's broad back. He silenced her with a dismissive, emotional shove. The second voice, however, was the voice of a child. Abraham lifted a brow, his memory hardly giving notice to who this filly was. Until, at least, she went on about her feather. The darkling stallion snorted, looking down at the girl with a bored stare. "You don't deserve it. It's beauty is too great for someone so ugly." Abraham stated, voice void of any drip of emotion. Another winged girl came to the filly's rescue, and the stallion could have rolled his eyes at her stupidity.
"Mind your own damn business, bitch. This is a dog eat dog world, and I take what I want from anyone I want. There is no discrimination in my actions." He snorted again, moving forward. The stallion shoved his shoulder out, aiming to slam hard into the body of the smaller pegasus. He had no time for these qualms. What was done was done, and it didn't even matter--the feather was not here. Abraham had stashed it away alongside the charm he had acquired. They were in a safe spot, hiding until he could give them to his sister--the only one who deserved their beauty. A third yeller came toward Abraham, and both dragons parted their jaws to release the threat of their respectful elements. "Make no mistake, Ol' Blue, that filly in the frozen mountains was older than I was when she met her end." Again, the stallion moved to shove past Erebos.
A dark ear flickered when the leviathan heard the command of his father's voice--but it was not meant for him. Scowling, Abraham turned his head to look at the mud-colored child again. A snort finally dismissed the trio from him, and Abraham moved into the depths of the forest--waiting like a coiled snake for the battle his father had spoken about.
Holy water cannot help you now
Thousand armies couldn't keep me out
I don't want your money
I don't want your crown
See I've come to burn your kingdom down
I'LL BE YOUR NUMBER ONE WITH A BULLET a loaded god complex, cock it and pull it
Zero followed behind the troupe from the Throat, taking care to keep a safe distance and not be spotted. So what if he was just a kid? He was one-and-a-half-(almost)! That's practically two! Practically a grown up, and it was about time he started pulling his weight, right? Even Ma couldn't argue with that. This time he wasn't just gonna stay home and wait it out. This time he'd come along, too, and probably deliver the blow that'd kill the monster and save Helovia single-hoovedly and prove to everyone that having only one wing didn't make him any less awesome! Images of battle danced through his head, glorious projections of triumph and blood, and he got so caught up in his dreams that he lost track of Ma way up in the sky, and got lost.
By the time the boy scrambled onto the island, there were a lot of people already there. Sunbeam eyes scanned frantically for the errant mother, but the boy couldn't pick Ampere out of the crowd. "Ma?" he called, to no avail- the rumbling of bodies easily drowned out eve his excited voice. Not one to be easily dissuaded, Zero hopped from foot to foot, skirting around the edge of the gathering with Squishy rolling dutifully behind, looking for a familiar form, a flash of lightning or a spot of blue or a shiny dagger or-
"Iso! I found you!"
He burst into Iso's isolation like a ray of light, grinning his happiness and relief at finding a friendly face. She was so big, it was easy to spot her, even though Zero still found it somewhat upsetting, how fast his friend seemed to grow. Because they were friends, right? Even though Iso'd been mad at him for some reason? Uncertainty clouded his youthful face. Was she still mad? Were they no longer friends? Well! It didn't matter. They'd fight side-by-side now, and he'd probably save her from almost dying, and then they'd be best friends again. At his hooves Squishy made a noise that was almost a groan, which Zero pointedly ignored.
Shortly after arriving in World's Edge with Ophelia and after he had rested sufficiently, Morenth was off exploring the vast lands that Helovia offered him. In the first few days of arriving in the Threshold, he had become aware that there was so much he did not know nor understand about the world he lived in. It was like the blinkers had fallen off and for the first time he was able to see fully what life had to offer him and unable to help himself, he immersed himself in it all. It was this that lead him to where he was now, following a small group of horses (if he could call them all horses, some were those strange half-birds and others were like Brisa, no horns) into a land unknown. As if there was some giant magnetic pull he was unaware of, horses from all around seemed to be heading in the same direction, and without knowing any better, Morenth followed them. He was curious as to what this meant, and he had an inkling it might be good.
So with the curiosity of a cat, he followed. Blue eyes lifted as the winged horses took flight, and he noticed the land flowing down into a multitude of hillocks before ending in a sandy beach where, dotted in the ocean was many small isles. Following those who could not take to the sky, Morenth was soon crossing the water to the isle where everyone gathered. The water felt cool and welcoming in contrast to the heat of the day, and Morenth rather enjoyed the swim. Listening to the chatter that carried itself off the isle ahead of him. He could not hear clear words until he touched the sand at the bottom of the water. And when he could hear them he knew he'd found something worth the traveling. Ophelia had explained to him the Gods and Goddesses who roamed the lands, but he never did expect to see or meet one in person. So it came as a shock when he laid eyes on the figure who could not be described as anything other than a God. God of the Earth, to be exact. He skirted around the gathering horses, ears pricked, listening to the words exchanged with interest. All were new faces to him, so he did not realize until he overheard a couple talking about the Rift that there were horses from other realms here as well. It was just as she had said, Morenth realized. He was just in time to see the God of the Earth raise a small egg, gifted to a raven who then turned into a horse (only confirming his theory that these winged horses were in fact birds...or half birds). A small gasp escaped his lips, but he stood on the outskirts quietly observing the gathering.
notes: just here to observe the show and learn what he can of the Gods ouo
10-19-2015, 10:52 AM (This post was last modified: 10-19-2015, 10:53 AM by Isopia.)
The girl's body wanted to jump at the sound of Volterra's voice, but Iso bayed it to remain still. Even so, a cold and fearful chill coursed through her system, causing her guts to twist and her heart to hammer unsteadily.
He knows.
If she were going to tell her name to anyone, it would have been him. But he never asked, and she never told - and that unspoken grace that he offered her was one of the things that so drew her to him, and kept her coming around when he was near. But now? Now he knew her secret. He held her most prized possession in his mind where it could never be lost. She felt naked, revealed somehow. Even as her stoic expression turned towards the mammoth colt, inside she was imagining ways of striking her Father down and tearing his tongue from his lips. She had no other secrets of this magnitude that he could ruin, and yet in this one instance, revenge felt like it could be sweet.
Kis hollo
And then her rage melted away. Something in Isopia's golden gaze softened for just a moment; a twinkling of gratitude in the depths of her golden eyes. In that moment, she couldn't have loved him more - if indeed it was love that she felt for him and not some sickness of the mind and body. There were no words that her mind could conjure to express what it was she felt, and the girl had to fight to keep her knees from buckling, and from allowing herself to sink into the muscular mass of his onyx shoulder. If anything proved the strength of mortals, Isopia was sure it was this. Her Father, a pillar of all that was strong and infallible had proven himself to be nothing more than an absent and absented-minded presence in her life. And yet Volterra, born from the loins of those who imparted no real scars upon history, has usurped him. That thought appealed to her on so many levels.
"Maybe Verzes can assist with that." She whispers in agreement, her mind as well fleeing to their first meeting, when Volterra was the one with the egg. The symmetry - and his presence - made her smile, and she might have said more if not for--
Iso! I found you!
That voice ... the girl hadn't heard it for what seemed like years, and although her body has continued growing as if it had been years, she knew it had not. The golden-eyed girl's heart winced with pain as she looked left, already knowing what bright and youthful face she would see. Zero her heart whispered, half expected to see Zahra and her ragtag group of companions alongside him. Have you made her more gifts she thought bitterly, but quickly the smile she forced became genuine. Zero had been the first to understand and accept her - the first to question the world with her. Together they had played as she had never played with anyone. They had adventured, wondered together, and discovered whales as well as her name. The heart she had when she was younger of mind and much younger of body, would always belong to him, no matter how it pained her now to admit it. He held a place in her life that she was sure she did not hold in his.
But such was life.
"Maybe I found you." She teased with a whisper and a half-smile. "I think there will be a battle. The last three openings have always been followed by an altercation. Although my Father believes that he has brokered a deal, I am not so confident. Why should diplomacy matter now that this is the fourth attempt?" She shook her head, turning her death-marked skull towards where her Father stood.
Gaucho's hardened gaze fell upon Einarr as his distant-cousin landed near him. " Aqqisat vitihira. Shokat alikh vorsa" We should be watchful. There will be more fire to jump through. Regardless of what the Earth God said, Gaucho was skeptical. If his own God was betrayed, he held no confidence that this one wouldn't be either. His gaze displaces from one of his most trusted warriors, as Zeno wanders away from him. The dun's steely eyes narrow as she confronts one of Archibald's sons, Abraham. He cannot hear what she is saying, but her body positioning and posture betrays her intentions. Gaucho is of course not averse to his daughter picking fights or standing up for those who need it - but whether or not she can handle herself is purely her responsibility. And from seeing Abraham for over a season now upon his sands, he knew the no-longer colt was no push over.
Ahh, but her battles were her own.
With a grunt, the Wildfire looked back to the Earth God. He noted that Einarr was alone - and likely that was due to his overly-pregnant mate. Areee matesssss? Mara whispered into his thoughts, to which Gaucho merely shrugged in reply. He didn't know, or care. Such was their life.
Vorsa trilled happily, and glided near Einarr's back, admiring the armor that Ophelia had gifted to him. Having grown up in Gaucho's antlers, seeing something that looked like the same type of material was comforting and impressive. She longed to land on his back, but knew her fiery body would cause him pain, and so sullenly refrained.
The ocean mare continues to follow her feet—her initial journey home swayed and bent into something else, an adventure of Helovia as she carries herself farther south. Her longing and heart’s cry for the cool, frosty mountains, for home, still linger at the back of her mind, but having caught the distant, lulling call of her father’s shore, her heart is being pulled closer to his beckoning, and she follows excitedly.
Dark cloven hooves splay slightly beneath her weight, sinking into the fine grains of sand, warm now as Tallsun’s bright light falls upon them liberally from above. The water-like markings that are streaked across her body glisten beneath the brightness, rippling and playing across her skin as though she is a drop of the ocean itself, moving across the pearly beach to return to her father’s vast embrace. The shells in her mane and tail chime gently as they clink against one another, echoing the sound of sea birds and the rushing of the waves, her very heart seeming to beat in time with their pulsing rhythm.
Her slender chest expands as she inhales the salty air, allowing it to run through every fiber of her body. “Papa!” She exclaims in breathless excitement, tossing her head in joyous rapture as she bounds forward and into his frothy embrace. So enchanted is she, that the ocean mare hardly notices the choppy winds and strong, unrelenting current of her father’s watery pull. He helps her, guides her as she swims, encouraging her to the cluster of islands on the horizon.
Her breathes are labored when her hooves finally find purchase, but her momentary exhaustion does little to dampen her smile as she pulls herself onto the jungle shore. Not having explored the entirety of Helovia thus far, it is only when Tiamat notices the large gathering of equines that recognizes that this is another new realm—one that a deity has brought them. “Oh…” she murmurs, her breath shadowed by an unwelcome sense of doom.
How much pain and hate must they endure for these Gods and their gifts, despite their generosity?
Rohan
Rohan remembers the burning and oozing of the boils that he had contracted from the Blood Falls, how painful the little pustules had been, how the tender skin had cracked, bled, and seared with every twitch of his skin. He had been utterly miserable then, and surely no less easy on the eye. Even considering all of this, he tells himself that he would take all of that back if only to rid himself of this damn headache (perhaps the decision might not be so easy if his wish were to actually be granted, but it is what he curses now).
Flicking the length of his tail irritably against his flanks—which have now healed to a hard, thick scab since being burned by the crocodile’s blood, the flesh no longer as easily prone to cracking and bleeding—the Warlander lingers at the Helovian side of the flowery bridge. He stands alone among the sands, head lowered beneath the dastardly weight of his antlers, and eyes narrowed against the blasted brightness of the sun.
He just knows that the islands in the distance is another new land brought to them. The bridge is far too decorated, far too new to mean anything else. He sighs heavily, wondering just how hard it would be to concentrate on battle with the pounding in his ears, the sensitivity of his eyes, and just the overall miserableness of his body. Would a more seasoned warrior allow it to deter him? Or would he take the wiser route, and steer clear of the war that surely awaits them? Rohan’s jaw flexes as he clenches his teeth, huffing before walking forward over the bridge.
He will not be controlled by this parasite.
Still, he finds himself relaxing once he reaches the island’s jungle, the bough’s thick shade giving him some relief from Tallsun’s wretched brightness. Brown nostrils curling, the Warlander follows the myriad of scents to the gathering, pale hooves picking their way through the moist underbrush before he stumbles upon them. It is the first time that he has arrived before the battle, and it is strangely eerie to see all of the people here—so quiet, so passive, so restless. Waiting.
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