"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.
love me or hate me it's still an obsession
</style>
Things have been super cray cray. I love being on the move but not when there was a freaking tornado sucking me in. I needed a break. After being a vagabond for so long it felt weird to actually remain in the Dragon's Throat. With Ma missing, though, I had to step up my game and help my younger siblings through life. Her comforting presence was something I didn't want my siblings to be deprived of. While Pa is great (don't get me wrong) I don't completely believe he has a handle over all of his children. Mainly his daughters. Picturing him explaining the birds and the bees to them along with other female things -
Oh gods. I couldn't even imagine it. I shook my head as I cleared the image of the train wreck that would happen. Yeah, definitely need to swoop in and intercept some areas.
Wings beat slowly as hooves met tickling grass next to the wide river. The Thistle Meadow, so appropriately named, was a peaceful place. Standing there, the serene atmosphere gently embracing me, I was reminded of my mother. Sohalia the Transcended was an elegant, petite creature with natural grace. While I inherited her looks, her soft features, I was still the daughter of Gaucho the Wildfire. I am a warrior who is trying to replace someone who could not simply be replaced.
My eyes caught sight of me in the reflection of the river and I instantly wanted to disrupt it with a brutal swing of my wing. For some reason I hesitated though. Was this really me? Family meant a lot to me. It always has. Even when I was on the roam they were always in my mind, but taking on this much responsibility. Was I ready to become the mother figure of our torn family? Oh Ma.. How I wish you were here. I guess I deserve this after abandoning you all.
Cool relief flushed my parched throat as I touched my mouth to the water, greedily drinking the fresh liquid. Now I just needed to find a way to relax and calm down. Take a breather. Should I lay in the sun? Nah.. that didn't sound all that relaxing. Plus I got enough sun considering I lived in a desert. With electricity quite literally running through my veins I found it near impossible to remain completely still for more than a few seconds.
Ughh. I should have just asked around and seen if anyone wanted a friendly spar. That was always a great way to help clear my mind. Instead I went to a place that reminded me of my missing mother because that was a freaking great idea. Did I expect to find comfort from this? Expect for her to randomly show up? Honestly, I don't know what I was thinking anymore.
Puffing out my cheeks I whacked a rock with a wing, watching it skip across the water.
We're in love with defeat / And we march to the beat
But I know what I've seen's not out of reach / So give it to me, give it to me
There's a beast watching her with greedy eyes; a devil, just a few blessed metres away from her. She's a pretty little thing, young and nubile, curvy and sensuous and a god damned wet dream to a stallion like himself. Sweat beads the fierce arch of his thick neck as excitement bubbles upwards from his chest at the mere sight of her wanton beauty and easy, controlled power. He wants.
He will have.
The behemoth moves closer, skull-marked head bobbing purposefully at the end of his powerful neck. His massive strides contain the lazy arrogance of a man completely comfortable in his own flesh, an almost feline prowl of testosterone-fuelled masculinity. His gaze roams freely across her body as she drinks and then skims a stone across the water, moving ravenously across her wings and from her head to her tail. He likes what he sees. Admittedly, any woman with a pulse is the height of attractiveness to him in his oversexed current state, but this one is a particular fine specimen of her gender.
With an earth-shaking thud of his colossal hooves, the stallion draws to a halt a short distance from her. He cuts an imposing figure, all firm, hewn muscle and tight black flesh, finished off by the large red dragon that perches ominously on his withers. The crimson does not entirely approve of his bonded's lusts, which control him far more than he would like, but he accepts that Volterra is a man grown now and is a victim of the needs of his gender. Vérzés shares them, albeit his desires are more geared towards hunting, ripping, killing whereas Volterra's are all about breaking, dominating, fucking.
The black monolith's hot gaze lingers on the young mare, his tail swinging idly against his flanks. "You look lonely," comes the gruff, gravelly baritone of his voice. And she does - it isn't just his carnal lust that says that. She is alone, skimming stones across a pond; clearly something isn't quite right.
[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far ] [ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]
love me or hate me it's still an obsession
</style>
Someone sure as hell was not trying to be stealthy. The thunderous sound of hooves stomping the ground began to grow louder. Ears flicked back as I prayed that I would be approached. I didn't feel like dealing with anyone's shit right now. This was suppose to be me time. Prayers went unanswered as it was clear where the hooves were heading. Well, looks like I was stuck now. There was no time to fly away. Besides that would make me look like a startled coward.
A deep, husky voice came from behind, "You look lonely," Little did I know that I was drawing attention to my butt (which was probably fabulous for the hormone induced male) as my tail swished in irritation. At first I did not turn to face him as I skipped another rock across the river, watching as it skimmed across the water. "Hasn't anyone ever told you that looks can be deceiving?"
Finally, taking my sweet time, I turned to face him. My movements mimicked the grace and finesse of the diplomatic scholar whom had birthed me. Based on his voice I was expecting someone of a bigger and more masculine build but holy smokes I was not expecting this behemoth. He stood as tall as my father, his finely sculpted body radiating the powerful essence of youth.
Maaaaybeee I would be glad my prayers weren't answered. I mean like.. He's a mighty handsome specimen that isn't hard on the eyes. At all. Not to mention he had scars which, most likely, meant he was a warrior. Me likie the strong warrior types. Fighting was in my DNA. It was only natural that seeing a man whom had obviously (I think?) been in his fair share of battles was more attractive than some scrawny stallion that wouldn't be able to keep up with me.
A gust of wind carried his smell (or should I say stench?) toward me and instantly my nose crinkled. Dear gods did he wreak of hormones. Like holy fudge the air was so clogged with them now that my head was becoming dizzy. My hardened gaze searched for his own. If he thought he was going to just prance in here and steal my V-card with his manly musk he was dead wrong.
Although part of me did want to be covered in that heavy, masculine smell. Wait what? No. Scratch that out, scratch out out. Okay. Good. "What of you? Here to try to woo females and draw them in with your musk?" Thank the Sun I was able to keep my voice steady. "If so I suggest you carry on and search somewhere else."
10-24-2015, 11:57 AM (This post was last modified: 10-24-2015, 11:58 AM by Volterra.)
Volterra & Vérzés
We're in love with defeat / And we march to the beat
But I know what I've seen's not out of reach / So give it to me, give it to me
She speaks without turning, and the stallion feels his flesh bristle with excitment as his ravenous gaze lingers on her mighty fine backside. She is an exquisite creature, and heat flows through his loins - shit, he hopes he grows out of this utter obsession with women. He cannot spend the rest of his life going weak at the knees every time he sees an eligible bacherloress. When he has his own herd and harem, he will at least have plenty of access to mares, which hopefully means his rampant lusts will be able to be satisfied on a regular basis. Until then, he is doomed to wander in search of release.
She turns, and he feels her eyes on him. He arches his neck to display every hard muscle and swells up to demonstrate every inch of toned sinew, blasting a torrent of chilly air out of his flared nostrils. She meets his blazing gaze and he feels it darken, holding her eyes for a precious moment before he continues his ravishing visual assessment of her body. The mare speaks again, and the beast's ears swivel forwards to drink in her dulcet tones. At her question, he huffs his amusement, and a wicked, rogue's smile twists up one corner of his mouth. "Yes," he grunts, simple, blunt. Why lie? It's not like he hunts out mares for polite political discussion.
She recommends he search elsewhere, and with one flick of an ear the stallion takes a powerful step forwards. The ground almost quakes beneath his weight and sheer presence, and his feral gaze never leaves her. "Oh, really? You would rather remain alone, playing with stones, than humour me?" He tilts his massive head, expression suddenly innocent. Despite his earlier thoughts, he is not adverse to making conversation, exchanging small talk, building up a rapport and then swooping like an avenging angel.
[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far ] [ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]
love me or hate me it's still an obsession
</style>
Eyes rolled in exasperation as a snort left my snout. Well, he certainly was an honest one. People always say, "honesty is the best policy". I'd have to agree. Really, most men tried to hide their obvious hormones. Like seriously I can smell you from miles and you're trying to convince me you're not staring at my butt? So, in that sense, it was a nice change of pace. A conversation before people got down to let's fuck would be lovely, though.
"I'd much rather keep my dignity intact than sleep around with any stallion who gives me an, 'I wanna jump your bones' look." I'm a strong independent woman who has standards, for gods' sakes! Ma raised me better than that. She taught me how wonderful it was to have an actual family instead of "friends with benefits" (aka fuck buddies). "Besides, for all I know, these stones are most more interesting than yours." There was no hiding the playful hints to my tone. Hey, just because I said I wasn't a slut didn't mean I could flirt.
My tail flicked back and forth as I regarded his scarred body once more. I really wanted to see if he actually got those from battling or if he'd gotten his ass kicked by mares chasing him off. I smirked to myself at the thought. The idea of getting physical was, in a way, enticing (and no not the sexy time kind of way).
"Anyway," I dared to provoke, "How do I know if you can keep up with me?" My gaze narrowed as I very obviously studied him over once again (cause hot damn). "While I admit the scars are attracting, how am I to know if you've actually earned them the warrior's way?" I didn't want no pansy trying to bed me.
We're in love with defeat / And we march to the beat
But I know what I've seen's not out of reach / So give it to me, give it to me
He elevates an eyebrow, a wicked gleam in his eye, at her reference to stones. "So you've been looking at my balls, hmm? I'm charmed." His lazy drawl of a voice is still filled with wanton lust and nefarious desire, each gravelly word oozing testosterone and virility.
Her eyes flick over him, and he bulks his colossal muscles to display them to her gaze. Look at what you could have. Ironically, the scars she's looking at have come from battles with Gods rather than with other mere mortals. In a way, though, that's even more impressive. He has helped slay four Gods, had a massive part in the downfall of each, and he wears the war-trophies from those encounters with pride. Anyone can fight another horse; only the select few can slay a God. The majority of his other scars are from his dragon's claws, and the tight black flesh of his back is so maimed by Vérzés' talons that it is almost oblivious to further assault.
How am I to know you've earned them the warrior's way? Another deep, dark smile bursts into life across the stallion's harsh features. "Think whatever you want, dear. You are more than welcome to put my abilities to the test, however." Even as the words leave his lips, he knows it isn't a good idea. So far, he has only fought men. Tangling with a woman in his hormonal state is a recipe for disaster. He might struggle to concentrate on the battle itself, might be caught up with the smell and taste and feel of his bruised flesh slapping against that of a female nemesis....but he doesn't care. If she wants to test him, then let her.
But should he win, he will expect a prize of her in return.
[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far ] [ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]
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