"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.
Cleft hooves tread deftly on moss and stone, careful to avoid the little glowing flowers and delicate white-cap mushrooms which littered the soft dark carpet. She knows this place well; years ago when the night had vanquished day, and all of Helovia was ruled by starlight, Lothíriel had spent countless hours in this very place, counting the glowing flora like the stars she missed. She isn't entirely sure of why she had come here, this strange place, but she resolves to stay—at least for a while, for the distant sound of falling water brings her peace, and the grass is soft and lush. Thingol weaves through the vines slung from the stone ceiling above, his feathers silent as they pass through the cool subterranean air. He remembers this place too, although he was merely a chick then, and the little luminescent pin-pricks seem more a dream than memory.
As she leans down to lip absently at the tender grass, it strikes her how quickly time passes; this world is a fickle place, as apt to proffer the greatest of riches as it is to purloin them back. Faces come and go, names flicker in and out of consciousness, and what is one left with? Even the great kings of the past will be forgotten by mere mortals, their names eroded from the annals of time. She thinks of the few she truly cares for—stoic Father, thoughtful Mother, effervescent Erebos, and she wonders how long it will take until they too are forgotten.
The white raven offers the brooding girl a conciliatory croak from somewhere in the distance. Unease creases her crowned forehead. "How long will it be until they forget us, Greycloak?" Lothíriel wonders aloud, startled by the echo her soft words elicit. How long.. how long.. how long.. the cavern mocks, leaving a thick silence once it quiets. The roan girl shudders—what must she do to be remembered?
& when she walks, her footsteps sing a reckless serenade.
12-07-2015, 09:18 PM (This post was last modified: 12-07-2015, 10:05 PM by Tilney.)
The last time Tilney had wondered this far south was when he met for the first time with the Sun God. It was this of the four deities he felt the closest to; a lord of light and healing. Would he find him here again? Descending into the caves, Tilney felt his courageous heart sting slightly with fear. It was a little dark in here but there was enough light to see through his nightblind irises. "woah" he whispered, his gaze collecting the extraordinary sight of dark stalagmites and stalactites.
Treading delicately over the quartz and mineral, he breathed a shaky breath. What sort of creatures would call this place home? He could imagine the sorts of dark beings that roamed such cold, damp, dark places.
Each room had a different character. Stepping through a wide room filled with drawings , he gazed at each scribe. Deciphering what they meant was a challenge, but he could only assume these illustrations were of the gods. Tilney weaved back through the sanctuary and around to a loud, thunderous room filled with spilling water. Watching closely at its source at the height of the room he wondered where the water was actually coming from. It was then that a soft echo hit his audits; a female voice was threading over each stalagmite and wall until it reached his gold ears. how long... was all he really managed to hear.
He could trust that this voice was not the call of a monstrous creature, it had to be a fellow helovian. Treading between rooms, he soon found himself surrounded by moss, glowing death caps and vines. he had to watch his crown as he stepped, though clumsily he ambled right into a low hanging vine. Turning and twisting to shake it form his antlers, it soon became a tangled mess on his head. It was then that he noticed the source of the melodic echoes. It was a stout fae, violet and roaned. He was slightly embarrassed to present himself to her like this; a tangled mess, but no matter he thought. "Greetings, ma'am" he uttered, proceeding to try to knock the vines from his crown.
Moss has a queer way of pacifying the clatter of hooves, causing the svelte maiden to remain oblivious to the foreign presence. Lothíriel starts a little when he utters obligatory niceties; she meets his emerald eyes with a narrowed lilac gaze, the faces of her dark ears turned back in a show of mild annoyance. Strands of moss and grass fall from the corners of her velvet lips, scattering over the luminescent flowers below. From beneath thick white eyelashes she scrutinizes him, a little indignant that he deigned to interrupt the quietude of her thoughts. The stranger is well-built, standing the same height as herself, but appearing larger because of his masculine bulk; he is endowed with a handsome rack, a strange lantern resting among a nest of vines on the tines of his antlers. It illuminates the facets of his face, as well as lending light to the already radiant garden of flowers and nightcaps beneath their hooves. He does not seem to harbor malicious intent, nor does he seem to be a particularly interesting sort, apart from the beacon on his horns. The queen of flowers hopes he will do something to refute this impression.
"Not many choose to wander in these parts," the slender girl mentions, dismissing polite introductions with a flick of her leonine tail. She remains unsmiling, but the dim glitter of her eyes imparts a certain playfulness to her countenance. "I wonder what brings you here," she says casually—perhaps almost dismissively—finally choosing to look at something other than the comely intruder. Thingol the pale raven lands on the flower maiden's withers, offering the chestnut a throaty croak.
& when she walks, her footsteps sing a reckless serenade.
01-04-2016, 01:22 AM (This post was last modified: 01-04-2016, 01:25 AM by Tilney.)
Vines still a mess in his crown the bronze beast began a second attempt to shake the web of fauna from his barky pair of antlers. By now the roaned fae had spoken, and Tilney was slightly embarrassed. Instead of answering his greeting she almost dismissed him. "Not many choose to wander in these parts" "Why not?" Was Tilneys colourful answer, tracing a little closer to the doe. Dipping his russet cranium the buck gently began to pry at the vines against a rock, pulling softly until areas of the mess became free. "I see nothing particularly life threatening down here. It's quite beautiful... don't you think?" the man responded, finally straightening up and looking closely to the speckled and splashed femme. "I wonder what brings you here" A smirk easily escaped Tilneys ashen nares. "I wanted to see what was down here, so Adventure is that brought me here."
"What about you? You don't look like the travelling kind. What is your quarry?" This time he took a closer look at the stranger. She was quite an incredible unicorn, a spiralling porcelain horn marking the centre of her countenance, tassles of white leaving her neck and a leonine tail. It was her eyes you, those vibrant blue eyes that stood out the most. They were so blue.
Wingbeats clouded his hearing, his nose turning to find the source of the swoop, only catching sight of the white feathered animal once it had perched on the magnificent faes shoulders. The crow cackled, and Tilney wondered just how safe this pair was; perhaps her vague warnings has been about herself.
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