"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.
Rumors did their job well, spreading like wildfire across Helovia; but it wasn't something lightly passed about like commentary on the weather, after all this was about a new king being crowned in one of the four main herds. As soon as she had heard about it, Imonada knew she absolutely must visit. Approaching him, for she heard it was a stallion, with what she had in mind seemed much easier now in his reign's infancy. Busy he may be ascending to his new role, it still felt by far the best time to introduce herself. She wanted contacts of all social status, from the outcast to the most exalted; this was no less ripe with opportunity and she was obliged to harvest. There was another reason, too, of course; she wasn't even remotely close to finishing her map. With that came the excitement of exploring a new area, as well as its inhabitants.
Heading west, the dark mare follows a worn path that snakes just below the small depreciated mountains that feed into the isthmus connecting the far north to the rest of Helovia. She knew who lived there and had not dared to go farther than the montane zone when she had met Kipling and Rikyn; to continue meant heading toward those stark, frigid peaks surrounding the Aurora Basin. It wasn't as if she didn't want to go there, for she did very much, the intrigue and dark allure of the forbidden and dangerous her bane. But she was no fool; it was one thing to meet an arrogant young stallion from there and quite another to go marching into their territory, where she was fairly positive she'd be plucked alive and left to bleed out.
The shadows shrivel as noon approaches. A drizzling morning has left remnants of itself as dew coating the grasses and leaves along the trail, making them shimmer like tiny diamonds in the day's golden light. Wind forces the trees to sway and whisper eldritch secrets, carried through undercurrents that promise coming autumn; belying the glory of green that still permeates. The earth is rich in scent here, damp and crude and deliciously fresh. In the sky three crows are chasing away a hawk, clattering and squalling. These are registered casually enough, but what really holds her attention is the massive but fractured dome that marks the World's Edge. When she reaches it, she finds that while there is a towering crack cleaved into the glass before her, there is no immediate entry. Considering both ways with a long look, she opts for the right and heads counterclockwise. Strolling along the perimeter, commanding her senses to high alert, she inspects the structure with a most thorough interest. Pressing her cheek against a smooth, unbroken portion of the wall she feels its faint magic; it thrums with slow, sleepy pulses, having been weakened by something. Well, the splintering was obvious enough, but here was the real problem. Enjoying the sensation of magic against her flesh, she is reluctant to pull away but does so to continue searching for an egress.
At long last she comes upon one. An archway has been shattered into the material; littering the ground are thousands of its pieces, glinting sharp and cold even in the Tallsun's warmth. But she merely peers through the passageway, not moving forward; instead she whinnies loudly, hoping to gain someone's attention. She was in no position to barge into another's territory uninvited, young and lame and small as she is; she relied on her tongue. Perhaps magic, too, one day.
A giant stood among the swirling mists that lingered in the trees, protected by the morning’s dampness and moon’s magic. The heat of noon did nothing to the thick soup that pervaded the numerous trunks, and the Elephant King silently watched the eddies and swells of the fog around him.
He had come to appreciate the unique beauty of the Edge’s mist— nearly enjoying even the cool wetness that accompanied it. The moist air decorated his pale buckskin coat with a film of dew that glittered in the afternoon’s sun, a glimmering statue surveying the boundaries of the Edge.
Ephemerally he drifted in and out of view with the ever-shifting mist. Azure gaze casts skyward once, watching crows squawk their irritation at an overzealous hawk. Thick, grey lips press in a small, amused smile. Raptors were forever trying to raid nests for meals, never checking if the parents are nearby. They rarely learn. Could equines?
His question was answered as his eyes tracked slowly back to earth, catching a black shadow molding itself along a chunk of glass (that he must have missed while cleaning as Glazier— it was a never-ending job). The equine form shifted into amorphous shapes as it moved along the broken glass, until finally appearing at an opening in the failed wall.
He studied her, unmoving from his statuesque stance, perked cream ears twitching at her shrill whinny. A slight mare of normal build, her coat was a deep and light-eating ebony. She was a flighted equine, yet her left wing fell awkwardly from her shoulder. Thick nostrils flare— she did not smell of the Edge and he had not seen her here before. He had become comfortable in knowing all those who now lived in the Edge— his herd.
Gently shaking his head at such a thought (never would he imagined to have leadership over such a thing), a shiver runs through his thick hide to dislodge the majority dew droplets. A glistening spray surrounds his massive body for a moment before his long, rolling strides being to take his heavy form towards the inquiring mare.
Large hooves and long legs make short time of the distance, and he is quickly standing in front of the shadowed mare. “Who is it you are calling for, black-wings?” Low and rumbling, the slightest undertones of authority color the congenialness to his question as his blue eyes questioningly meet her dark ones.
11-30-2015, 02:24 PM (This post was last modified: 12-01-2015, 01:34 PM by Imonada.)
She had prepared for this little mission the best way she could for herself; a lash of Cobra's Tongue a few hours back was taken to stave off the inevitable and inexorable withdrawal, her albatross. She was careful to take it early enough before she would arrive at the glass dome, well past by then the crippling euphoria and the following manic silliness, left only with a gently flowing pleasantness like a spring in the desert. A good hearty breakfast of dogwood leaves had been followed, up until it was time to head out. Then there had even been extensive mulling over what she would do and say. Her plan was a bit sketchy, rough around the edges, but it would do. She could improvise. Maybe.
Through the mist, he appears like a mirage, summoned by her call. Immediately she is taken aback by his sheer size, dwarfing her. Her throat bobs slightly as she swallows, dryly, her vaguely tilted eyes regarding him as two deep pools of glittering ink. He is enormous, but that isn't his only interesting trait; a beautiful sable pattern decorates his hide while an impressive horn crowns him, spiraled, to match. His bearing, calm but confidant, and demanding respect. She admires it and appreciates the lack of hostility, and it allows her to continue. "Good mornin', sair," she chirps, picking up her mother accent, a light brogue. "I'm Imonada of Hidden Falls. I've come to pay my respects to the World's Edge's new master. And offer myself as a liaison between the two herds, for goodwill." She schools her countenance with iron bound determination; so she never actually mentioned this to Knox... or Archibald... or Kaj... Was she overstepping her authority? But even if she had ulterior motives, there was truth in what she said, insofar as what she wanted. She was not a violent sort, preferring diplomacy. What harm was there in offering a friendship with another herd? Allies were an invaluable treasure.
Her head dips as she tucks her chin for a slight bow, long wavy jet-black hair falling to curtain her equally dark features-- the strong and regal curve of a Paso Fino with the kind, naturally soft expression of her faint Arabesque Caspian. She holds it for a moment before panning her face back up toward his own colorful one in shades of fawns and deep chocolate browns. Finding herself a tad intimidated, she maintains her spot outside the boundary, poised at the entrance that he now guards like a monolith. Her wings stay flat against her lean sides, the tightly laid feathers taking on a subtle sheen of indigo in the metallic gold of the early daylight. Even with darker clouds of mist hanging in the distance, the sun manages to break through large gaps to flood the dome, turning it into a withering bubble of opalescent hues while lighting foliage all around aglow with molten fire. The mornings were cooling down, though, an Orangemoon herald. "Please, to whom do I address before me?"
His ears perked further forward as the interesting accent floated into their thick funnels. It wasn’t one he had heard before— and he quite liked the ebb and flow of syllables chirping from the ebony mare’s mouth. The barest of smiles tilted up the corners of his thick mouth and crinkled the edges of his deep eyes.
Though, once over the initial, pleasant surprise of her accent, the substance of her words permeated his mind. The cogs of an old, rusty machine that is the diplomatic decision-maker in his brain began to turn. The leads of the Falls sent a liaison to meet the new Edge’s King? And to offer an alliance? Surely that is something that must be discussed between leads directly, not via messengers. Though, is that what was truly being offered, here? And, who was he to judge when he had done naught to visit the other leads in their lands.
Thoughts swirl through his mind as he watches the slight bow of the jet-black, regally built pegasus. A slight dip of his muzzle was given in recognition of her respect, as he studied her a few moments longer, cobalt eyes unusually impassive in his calm, black-marked face. Vaguely his mind appreciated the flare of golden light on her lustrous coat, and the blue-black sheen on her impressive feathers. The Falls had sent a lovely messenger, regardless if it was to slight the Edge or form an alliance.
Finally his low voice rumbled once again as he took a step back from the border, large body inviting the mare to cross into his herdlands, “Well met, Imonada. I am Tembovu, the Edge’s new King,” a grin crosses his face, “So it seems you've found who you seek.” He paused, feeling the urge to physically move as his thoughts mulled in his head. “Walk with me,” though said as an offer, there was little option to refuse as his long strides started to carry his heavy body along the border that Imonada had traced while on the other side of the broken glass.
He walked only a short distance, before slowing, “I welcome goodwill with the Hidden Falls, though I should like to personally meet the leads. And I value a trustworthy liaison between the two herds,” he paused, studying the smaller, black mare once again, “Tell me, is there anything Archibald or Kaj wish to relay to the Edge?” He halted, still along the Edge’s border, waiting for his answer.
12-04-2015, 08:28 PM (This post was last modified: 12-06-2015, 12:03 PM by Imonada.)
His mouth creasing back into a smile that sparkles in his pale, piercing blue eyes --she thinks of the silver minnows that glitter along the edges of the Hidden Falls' many crystal pools-- has her fighting to tame her own grin in involuntary response; the battle ends tied and her expression settles on something akin to shy, subdued delight. She openly studies his face as he considers her words, noting his broad cheeks, strong jaw, and the striking shades painted across the regal slant of his superior bone structure; sable-black bands across silvery fawn, their pairing most divine. The morbid side of her steals a moment to wonder at his horn, too; he could skewer someone with that thing. One well placed jab and it would be game over, especially backed by the force he undoubtedly possessed.
Naturally, she picks up on his lingering regard of her; not so much different than any other memorizing her features upon introduction, but the budding attraction she feels toward him turns her into an exposed nerve under his gaze. The smooth rumble in his deep voice makes her pulse quicken, but the next words settle very greatly upon her, sinking in heavy. She stills. Of all the damned things, she didn't expect him to actually be the first to greet her, but once the shock fades away she is overjoyed; a surge only minimally tainted by a slight intimidated. "I am honored to meet you, Your Majesty." Her head nods low again, innately graceful.
She quietly concedes to his request, forcing a small trot to her own steps to reach him; when she does, she keeps toward his flank. She catches his scent finally, finding it warm and pacifying, spiced and heady. Hanging back, with little instinct in her to lead, she watches his movements and body language with a raven's naked curiosity. She knew better than to bring herself to even keel with him, unless he invited it. Some rulers were congenial with others, treating them equally. Still, just as many demanded the utmost respect to station. Given his particular title, she prefers to stay cautious and attentive. And deferent enough to pay him his dues while clearly keeping her own herd, and her submission to it, her cor aut mors.
Of course she considers lying, exploring those consequences in her head and weighing their worth after he questions her. But, manipulating events for one's ideal version of the world need not always be filled with lies; not only was her moral compass still relatively intact, a poorly laid web of deceit could ensnare her far more easily than any of her enemies. "They didn't send me," she says bluntly, choosing not to treat it as a potential regret. "I took my own initiative. I don't have the authority to offer an alliance, sair, but tis no reason not to begin friendly talks. As intelligence, not only is it my job to find these opportunities, but I must create them, as well. What good am I if my wings are clipped, so to speak?" A smirk, self-depreciating in its humor, curls her lips for a moment. "I am confident, however, that they would be very pleased to hear of your desire to meet them. I can relay this, of course, Your Highness."
Oh but he was both beautiful and handsome, observant and sharp insofar as she could ascertain of him yet, his species to hers just exotic enough to tempt, older, obviously strong and wonderfully built, and --knowing no shame-- a king! Once, many nights ago, in the spring, when she had fallen ill with the Green Labyrinth Lung, she had met another stallion whose presence affected her so. Thoughts of him were not so perfectly recalled as normal, with the memory made under the fog of plague. And yet a feeling remembered flashes through her, vague, but compelling enough to give her pause.
elizabeth: you're not telling us everything.
red: let me put your mind at ease; i'm never telling you everything.
--blacklist
force allowed
plotting prior to death/maiming please
A cream ear tilted sideways in unease as she addressed him with ‘Your Majesty.’ The stuffiness and the formality of her regal neck bowing so deeply did not sit well with him. Though he brushed it aside during their short walk devoted to his mulling thoughts. His thick hide vaguely felt the brushes of her intent gaze while his blue eyes just barely noticed that she walked at his flank instead beside him. Though after he stopped, after she spoke of taking her own initiative, and after she addressed him with ‘Your Highness,’ the subtle deferences to his rank leapt to his attention, as did her bluntly honest words.
He studied her closely, then, this slender black mare of magnificent wings and melodious accent. His own mouth smiled sightly as he watched her slender black lips smirk with self-deprecating humor. Dark blue eyes left her mouth, searching for her dark and deferent gaze, “You may call me Tembovu. ” The low rumble faded in the small distance between the Elephant and the raven, as his study of the woman continued and his great head tilted ever so slightly. “Your honesty is refreshing, Imonada. I appreciate it,” his bass sounded her name carefully, “And it would be a shame to see those elegant wings clipped," eyes flickered to the raven wings in question, "So, please, do relay my wish of good will to your rulers at the Falls.” He fell quiet for a moment, an ear swiveled to catch the futile cries of the aforementioned, thwarted hawk. There was little else to say, and yet…
“Intelligence?” his low voice questioned. He wanted to ask more— to know more of what made the mare beneath those feminine, yet strong onyx features. “Is there a reason you chose such a path, Imonada?” again, his low rumble meticulously sounded her name, for he quite like the feel of it on his tongue. The King knew their business had ended. The spy had her information, the new King had given his message. But, still, he asked.
12-26-2015, 03:36 PM (This post was last modified: 12-26-2015, 03:50 PM by Imonada.)
Her sensitive nature binds her, allowing her to notice the lop of his ear after she had addressed him royally. Damn. Even though she chastises herself internally, she is able to gauge that his response was only minor; his sliver of pique did not require any sort of rectification on her part. It was far better to just move on and adjust. "Mar is miann leat, Tembovu," she acquiesces in a gentle way, meeting his masculine thunder with the song of soft rain. Her accent elongates the 'o' in his name, but otherwise she is keen to mimic it correctly.
The tempered cadence of her speech belies a giddy flutter racing through her insides, however; caught by his bright, penetrating gaze, she feels pinned in place until he considers the rest of her. The urge to preen is mercilessly squashed before it grows beyond inkling, and she is finally able to look away with a measure of shyness. There was much value in the ability to be an actress as a spy, but she was still a little thing of dreams and wants and pains; she was far too visceral, a miracle of chemistry given soul, and she succumbed to herself much as anyone would themselves at times.
Although she is attuned to him quite heavily, she remains alert to the background. The chagrined hawk drifts out of view, while its pursuers swerve back whence they came, their nest safe for now. His voice, dark music to her ears, pulls her back to him just as the birds land. Her large slanted eyes peer up at him in an obsidian shine, thoughtful. Massive Panzram, the other one who had made her float and had handled her as easily as a doll, was no where near this stallion's stature. Maybe she had a thing for the size difference? Could they do it? How would that work out? Oh my gods. She nearly rolls her eyes at herself, but catches it in time to make nary a facial twitch. She was turning into a fool right before him but, thankfully, he was none the wiser to it. Yet. It was difficult for her, though. He was a delightful, intoxicating mix of immense power and threat, contrasted against a calm and authoritative deposition. Time would be the revelation of all truths, but for now he appeared capable. It was a drug. "Rest assured, Tembovu, I will personally deliver the message." ...And it was a pleasure to meet you, I bid ye farewell, peace out, later dude...
But none of those words come out of her mouth; she was aware of not over-staying her welcome, but he hadn't exactly dismissed her. In fact, he was asking her something personal. She is momentarily stunned into silence; here she was, gathering information... and while she knew that often necessitated a bit of give-and-take, she wasn't prepared for something that asked her to perform internal reflection. "Ah. Well, I've not much bloodlust. I'll battle as much as I need to, to protect my herd, but this wing..." She shakes her head in surrender. "No magic. I have a bit of herb knowledge, but my strength is in listening. I remember things. I could never meet you again in my life time, but now that I have seen your face, I will always remember it exactly as I see it now until the day I die. What better job for me then?" She ventures closer to him now, angling herself in a more appropriate position to his for a friendlier conversation. "If you don't mind telling me, why are you king now?"
"Talk."
elizabeth: you're not telling us everything.
red: let me put your mind at ease; i'm never telling you everything.
--blacklist
force allowed
plotting prior to death/maiming please
Ears twitched in response to her foreign words and gentle sounding of his name— mirror the twitching of his generous manhood. Subtly, he shifted, willing and commanding his urges to heel (or at least attempting to). He lost her dark and lovely eyes as they look away— in shyness? A coy act? He was unsure. But he gladly regained the dark gaze and her enchanting accent as she responds to his question— though the brief silence is not missed by the King. Perhaps he had overplayed his hand, perhaps it wasn’t ‘Kingly’ to personally inquire after a spy… He shrugged inwardly, for he had wanted to know more of this captivating creature.
At the mention of her wing, his eyes turn to the listing left appendage. His muzzle quivers once, wishing to feel the old injury, stroke the silken black feathers, perhaps even knead away any spasms surrounding the offset bones— he blinked rapidly once, twice, thrice. That’s enough of those thoughts, Elephant.
She continued to speak, his mind grappled and fumbled to hear and register her words. But suddenly she is angling towards him, closer than before. He just barely caught himself, stopping his thick columns of legs from moving backwards and away from this small, yet powerfully bewitching, winged mare. He had started in control of this conversation— what had happened? That’s what he got for asking further questions of the raven.
“I could never meet you again in my lifetime, but now that I have seen your face, I will always remember it exactly as I see it.” His preoccupied mind had caught this phrase. “Remember things exactly? A useful skill, though I hope we do meet again,” thick lips are moving before consulting with his distracted brain. And his mind is shouting at him— she had asked a question! He needed to reply, what had it been…?
Ah, why was he king? Features, which he wasn’t certain how expressive or impassive they had remained in his moments of internal struggle, wipe entirely clear. He supposed tit-for-tat was fair, but this was a question weighted with the blood of a child. Quickly and easily, it weighed and focused his head, lips pressing together slightly as he considered his answer. Much of it was his spotted friend’s personal woes to tell, not his place. “I have never aspired to power or monarchy,” he quietly compromises to give a but of personal information, “but when Mauja stepped down as King, I was there to be appointed.”
Silence fell after his somber words, their breaths creating quiet eddies in the mist. His gaze, now on her face, glances to the a break in the shattered wall behind her, “The pleasure was mine, Imonada. Safe travels back to the Falls.” And with that, the King quietly dismisses the raven.
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