"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.
BLESSED BY A BITCH FROM A BASTARD'S SEED
PLEASURE TO MEET YOU, PREPARE TO BLEED
He recognises the voice, and he recognises the anger in it.
The second he hears it, the beast's ears pin. What the hell has Nymeria done now? His colossal frame shifts into a heavy gallop, his thickly feathered limbs devouring the hard summer ground. He does not know what his twin has done to incite their aunt's ire, but whatever it is, it was probably done in a moment of madness. After all, like Volterra, Nymeria must be experiencing all the aches and pains of being an adult - hormones, impulsiveness, a desire to impress and dominate. Then again, his sibling is an intelligent creature, a viper to Volterra's roaring lion. He cannot see her doing something she didn't fully intend to do. He can't see her making a mistake. As much as the giant doesn't like to consider it, that means this was more than likely a calculated, planned attack, not one of passion and spur-of-the-moment desire.
Equally, though, Ophelia's actions surprise him. The behemoth always considered his aunt to be a refined, stoic creature, above such flashes of temper as this. He did not think her the sort to take out her anger on a mere girl, to swagger onto the battlefield dripping with arrogance and a desire to teach a lesson that isn't hers to teach. The stallion's scarred eyebrow lifts, somewhat displeased at this new side of his aunt - this childish side. She assumes she will crush Nymeria, which is a mistake. The children of the World Eater are strong, fearsomely so, and the giant thinks his sister has a chance. His dam earnt her title with her power and ability to strice menace into the hearts of any she met, so underestimating her or her offspring is a foolish idea.
That doesn't make what Nymeria's done right, though. Why attack a family member without provocation? Volterra can understand rage and a desire to own, but why aim it at such a needless source? Their aunt has never harmed them or displayed a desire to, so Nymeria's actions are ill-advised at best, damned idiotic at worst. She could create war for no other reason than...what, curiosity? "For fuck's sake, Nymeria," the titan growls under his breath, his tail swinging against his powerful hindquarters. What did his twin hope to accomplish by stealing their aunt? The titan draws to a halt near to the battlefield, a hulk of looming muscle and tight black flesh to observe the battle and pick up any pieces.
[ 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 ]
"And now I wish to God that The earth would turn cold And my heart would forget it's made of glass"
Like a lost star strayed from the heavens she limps up to the big stallion, eyes wide and lips parted in mingled fear and anticipation. There was no mistaking the anger in that voice, no doubting the determination behind the issued challenge - but though she didn't know the reasons for it, the pale dove cannot help but feel that this promise of violence is a mistake.
"What are they thinking... hasn't there been enough blood shed already?" she muttered, sparing a quick glance at the black brute. His attention was fixed on the challenger and he was muttering to himself. He looked angry and agitated, though Erthë doubted very much that it was for the same reasons as herself.
"Hey... Do you know what's going on?" she asked him, voice soft and quiet, careful - the last thing she needed was to get him angry at her. They had played once before, anger turning into friendly banter; they weren't close though, not what you'd call friends, and the filly was reluctant to get on his bad side. After all, she thought she might like him a little, despite the arrogance and snarky attitude.
Biting her lip the girl looked back at the pallid challenger, the Sun's Favored one, wondering whether this Nymeria person would show up. And even if they came, would they accept the challenge? Would they fight? What would she do if she they did though. Part of her quivered excitedly at the thought of getting involved, of throwing herself between the fighters and make them talk instead of spill blood.
But another, more sensible part kept her rooted to the spot. This was none of her business and she had no reason to step in. If these people chose to be foolish and get themselves hurt it was their choice. They were grown horses and would have to face whatever consequences, sooner or later.
Shifting the pale, blue-shaded wings she settled in to wait and watch, mouth a thin, grim line as eyes roved the landscape beneath the swiftly rising sun.
"And all the pretty tulips would disappear And never disturb me again"
Agnodice is pawing through the flora, sniffing around in the plants. There were useful herbs everywhere to be found here! In the water, on the trees, in the flowers. There were poisons, too. Dainty flowers and stalks of plants that, if eaten, would cause nausea, migraines, paralysis, some could kill within hours.
She was in herb paradise, lurking around the rotunda, making a mental catalogue of what lay here. She would've been happy to continue doing this for the rest of the day, but she heard an angered scream pierce the air. Agnodice flicked an ear in it's direction, brow furrowing at the words she was hearing.
Someone's upset.
Agnodice rose from the flora, turquoise gaze finding a gargantuan black stallion and ethereal, dainty filly. She approached the pair quietly, stopping quite a distance from them. Her gaze followed theirs to see a mare dipped in red, rage radiating off her in waves. Agnodice's curvaceous ears flicked forward, straining against their hold on her head.
Words tumbled from the tiny, pale filly, asking a question that Agnodice wanted an answer to. With this in mind, She came closer to the pair, finding that the filly was adorned with both wings and horns. Agnodice had noticed that these were common traits here. She had no crown, no feathers. She was almost disheartened by her austere appearance. The stallion made her feel slightly better about this, for he was in the same boat as she. He lacked horns, wings, though he had the health that the filly seemed to lack, despite being a bit scarred.
11-06-2015, 03:58 PM (This post was last modified: 11-06-2015, 04:12 PM by Gaucho.)
The children who have gathered might be confused or disillusioned by Ophelia's actions, but the Wildfire was not.
Gaucho was drawn down from the skies by the mere twinkle of Ophelia's ever glistening mane and tail. However it hardly took a few shiny invisible stones to draw his attention to the former Lady - hers was almost always an interesting situation to be in the presence of. And if not, she was hardly a sore sight to behold.
On blackened and fiery wings, Gaucho landed. He had distanced himself from the group, allowing his steely gaze to appraise them each, before shifting back. Volterra and Nymeria were both known to him - from when he had captured their mother. Erthe, he had seen at the various fights. The other mare too perhaps - but Gaucho's interest was not with the spectators. It was with the spectacle. He heard Nymeria say that whatever had happened was merely to get Ophelia's attention, which caused the Wildfire to grunt and mentally roll his eyes. In his antlers, Mara hissed and Vorsa shrugged uninterested.
Failure might get Ophelia's attention - but not in the way the white-faced child would want. Besides, had these children not seen how violently Ophelia reacted when their mother had tried these tactics? What made Confutatis 2.0 think that it would work out any better for her?
Folding his fiery appendages against his muscular flanks, Gaucho watched with interest. The only time he had seen Ophelia fight, it had been against him. The other times that they shared the battle field, there had been too much blood or bodies between them. But now, stoic and unabashed by responsibility, the Wildfire stood and looked on. Adrenaline filled his veins as he teased himself with the idea of pulling his eyes away from Ophelia. A self-discipline that he saw no reason to try and enforce.
11-07-2015, 06:24 PM (This post was last modified: 11-07-2015, 06:26 PM by Volterra.)
BLESSED BY A BITCH FROM A BASTARD'S SEED
PLEASURE TO MEET YOU, PREPARE TO BLEED
The filly who approaches is familiar; the porcelain girl he'd 'rescued' from drowning. He knows she was badly injured during the God fights, and almost feels morally obliged to ask about her wellbeing. Almost. They are not friends, but nor are they enemies. She is just a girl, and yet Volterra cannot summon the words to his lips, not when his sister's plight is so much closer to his blackened heart.
Her words are the peaceful, naiive musings of youth, and the stallion snorts. There is never enough bloodshed. There will always be fighting, from the mightiest war to the tiniest misunderstanding. What this particular situation is remains to be seen. Do you know what's going on? There's no anger in the stallion when he answers her question - nor does he look at her. His eyes remain riveted on the battle, if indeed there is to be a battle. "The young mare is my sister. The pale one is our aunt. Let's just say it's a little bit of a clusterfuck - and you can ask your mother what that means." There's no venom in his voice, and he doesn't realise he may hit a nerve with mention of her mother. He means no harm to her - he just doesn't have it in him, not when his heart is being wrenched in two by his sister's own damn stupidity.
His massive head lifts slightly as another approaches, this one unfamiliar. It is a mare, a beautiful buckskin creation that, under normal circumstances, would set the black behemoth's heart to racing and balls to pulsing. And, indeed, he has enough left to cast a greedy glance across her, drinking in every delicious curve, but there's no real energy behind his perfunctory observation of her body. This is what his twin does to him; removes all but the most basic of emotions, renders him broken whilst in her thrall. He only has eyes for her, for what is going to happen next. And, when Nymeria speaks, Volterra damn near chokes on his own tongue. She wants Ophelia's attention?
What the hell is she up to? There's far easier ways to get somebody's attention.
He frowns, creasing his sharp features into harsh lines. "Get her attention? Is a simple 'hello' too much damn effort?" His words are a harsh mutter, audible to only those in his immediate vicinity. At that moment, another stallion arrives; he's large, powerfully-built, winged and antlered. Volterra recognises him from past battles, and - shit - as the man who took their mother. His ears flatten momentarily, but then he remembers his dam telling her how she cunningly escaped his wrath, and his features quickly straighten back out. Mother won. Or so the giant thinks. He can't know that his dam, silver-tongued snake, fooled her son with her tales of derring-do. That the harsh reality was that she was released out of either mercy or boredom - that she did not outwit him, simply bided her time until her capture no longer served a purpose.
No, the beast knows none of this. And there is little time to dwell, as his attention continues to linger on the family feud between Nymeria and Ophelia. How will his aunt react?
[ 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 ]
"And now I wish to God that The earth would turn cold And my heart would forget it's made of glass"
Others joined them on the sidelines, no doubt drawn in by the commotion. Erthë eyed them curiously, taking in their appearances and demeanor without saying anything. The pale mare was unfamiliar to her, equine and plain but rather nice looking; the fire-wreathed stallion was almost too familiar, a face she had seen on nearly every battlefield during the long divine conflict. Erthë inclined her head to each in turn and murmured a quiet greeting, but kept the better part of her attention on the two challengers and on the dark colt by her side.
His reply surprised her. It probably shouldn't have, because looking between him and the young filly, there were so many similarities between them that she felt foolish for not seeing it before. Equally dark and masked, with eerie red eyes and an air of confidence about them that contrasted greatly with their years. For them to be related to the pale, blood-stained Amaranth however... she couldn't really see it. Their build was so different, and weren't family supposed to be close and get along?
Before she could ask him further about it however, the stallion uttered words that cut her deeper than she would have thought possible. Not intentionally, no she didn't think so, she didn't even think he knew, but even so...To have the mention of her mother sprung upon her like that was something she wasn't prepared for. Erthë flinched visibly and sidestepped, away from the swarthy stud with her pale, softly hued face screwed up in pain.
"I can't" she said, voice breaking even though she tried so hard to keep it steady. "Rather, she couldn't answer if she wanted to..."
She'd thought the pain had faded, that she had learned to live with her loss. But with a single, stray comment he proved her horribly wrong. Erthë hadn't gotten over the loss of her mother - she had barely even begun to grieve at all.
Swallowing thickly she turned away, eyes retreating back to the mares that were the center of this whole spectacle. She tried to focus on what they were saying, what was going on, but even as she stared at their monochrome figures her thoughts strayed, eyes blurring with unwanted tears as memories of a quiet, black mare flooded into her mind.
"And all the pretty tulips would disappear And never disturb me again"
There was something strange going on here, something deeper than just trying to steal her for attention. From the look on Volterra's face, she assumed he thought the same - though she didn't know for sure. Ophelia removed herself from her position in front of Nymeria, thinking the girl's apology was just enough to get her out of trouble this time. But, she knew, it wouldn't work this way in the future. One of these days, she would get herself into trouble she couldn't get out of with this attitude - just like her mother.
Was history destined to repeat itself?
Shaking her head and exhaling, the tension of her body melted into weariness, and she stared at the little skull-faced girl. "If your apology is honest and you understand that actions have consequences, I will train you," she offered honestly, no lie anywhere on her alabaster features. Ophelia meant every word. Though she didn't trust the girl and had no reason to, she knew that extending this offer was the right thing to do.
Her coat was all but faded white now, and she loathed to think what Gaucho thought of her now. Surely he was upset that she didn't finish the battle she had started. Phi glanced in his directly, glad at least that he knew to be weary of Nymeria now.
Ophelia turned to her brother then, smiling weakly. "I hope that this does not affect what we have, Volterra," she said quietly. "You are strong and honest, and I would be proud to have you in the ranks of the World's Edge. There is much I can teach you and your sister if you only ask. Roskuld, my only daughter, has made her own way in this world, and I do not have any other children. I do not claim to know everything, and I am not perfect..." she trailed off, remembering her faults and crimes of war and deceit.
"Regardless, you know where to find me if you need anything."
Undertow has come to take me. Guided by the blazing sun. Look at everything around us. Look at everything we've done.
Please. Anyone. I don't think I can save myself. I'm drowning.