"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.
[ I am just posting this to get going on the wounded, in case the Aftermath thread gets stuck. Onni will be healing the most serious cases, so Torasin, Lace, and Tares are priority, for their broken bones, but if your character has a serious injury please post! Medics can join in as well. ]
onni. </style> Distance feels further when you love with fervor and no second thoughts. </style>
With Kri's assurance that she was well, Onni began to look around at the bloodied bodies. Much to her dismay, it seemed that nearly every body she fell upon had some sort of obvious injury, one that she would direct her immediate attention to on any other day. Yet, there were others who stood by with crooked limbs and bloody pools, which made her breath catch in her throat.
She had been trained to injure others in a similar manner, but Onni had not seen such chaos and dispair since the infection of the dead in Isilme. Here, there were no corpses attacking the the living, but the living attempting to slaughter the living. Standing amidst the wake of such violence and brutality was the healer, uncertain of just which was more horrifying. Were the angered dead really monsters in compared to the demons that surrounded her now? Even her mother, standing still and calm at her side, had put on an ugly face to earn a home for the Qian.
The mare shakes her head, trying to clear her negative thoughts. Sacrifice had to be taken for a home, and her mother had told her this since she was very little. Still, Onni had never been an aggressor, and feinted even farther from that title since assuming the position of Shaman. To provoke violence, to seek injury - she did not understand this.
Stepping away from her mother, Onni find a suitable area of the bloodspattered ground to stand, clear of others, where she might find room to practice her arts upon the wounded.
""
Yol, as with all other medics, had been called to the World's Edge to help with the bruised and broken. The yearling loved a chance to try out his new skills, and actually meet Onni the first time. His dark, warm eyes took her in eagerly- this was the Shaman. A beautiful bay-silver, with patches of cream and a mane and tail of silky white. Brilliant blue eyes adorned her beautiful, slender, white face.
"Onni. I'm Yol. I'm training under you, but we haven't actually met." Yol offered a shy smile, lowering his head respectfully. He was an honorable, respectful pegasus, who worked silently and politely. Never had he dreamed of of ignoring or disrespecting authority. It was not in his beaten-down, old-fashioned ways. He came to her side, wondering where they would begin on the battlefield. Mostly it was full of broken horses, blood-stained muzzles, defeated yet proud eyes. He doubted they would heal all- most were not so badly injured, luckily. It would only be the worst.
Time flowed around them all like invisible streams of misty nightfilled waters. As the night grew colder the mist froze, leaving crisp frost upon the strands of grass that had yet to be trampled into the ground. Steam rose from cooling bodies, from the heat of the blood that beaded from cuts and pooled onto the ground. He felt it stiffen against the skin of the broken leg. The long cut he had received on the right thigh had finally stopped bleeding, much thanks to the lack of movement. Unfortunately, the same stillness also made his muscles stiffen and ache - it was only thanks to the thick winter coat that he wasn't shivering.
Lace stood with closed eyes and listened to the movements around him. The grulla felt tired, bone weary from the strain of keeping himself motionless. He mustn't move. It was the only thing that remained in his mind. Gone was the fear of what would happen to him, the pride of victory or relief for friends found to be alive. None of that mattered anymore. Only pain remained, a dull throbbing sensation that would turn into a jolt of torment at the slightest of careless motions. Too deep a breath, a flick of the tail, anything might trigger it. The need to avoid pain had taken over and drowned out everything else.
Absently he registered that Fajira sent images through their bond. The image of a pegasus mare walking around the injured soldiers came to him, forced itself upon him. Sighing, he relented and studied the girl - because she was little more, a young woman only with coat unmarred and beautifully painted in warm browns and white. An angel she seemed to his hazy mind, and he wondered what she was doing there. Surely it would be more pleasant for her to rest the eyes on the endless sky, a meadow frosted by the touch of winter where late flower became crystallized and monochrome beneath the light of the full moon. That she instead would choose to walk across a battlefield drenched in blood, charred by fires, imprinted with a memory of anger, sadness and hate... He didn't understand it.
Do you wanna see how much I can take? Can't you just leave bad enough alone?
</style>
I am done with this wretched life of war and blood. As I drag myself to Onni's shadow and my side buries itself in the ground, as the blood pools and clots, I decide that I will never fight again. Breathing is too difficult and I cannot focus, not on anything but that fact that I will never fight again.
I will devote myself to my family, to another path if one presents itself to me. I was not born to fight, not even to protect. I accept now that I was born to be the protected one. I long for Aure, her touch at my side, the vision of her beauty as she approaches me with confidence and concern; with love. I long for her now. My tail thrashes wildly with the pain and kicks up the dust of what has now become the Qian's home. I should feel triumphant- we won. I feel nothing but the pain, the hurt, the hurt, the hurt, and see nothing but the dizzy blur. I hear my breathing as it labors, sense my lungs pressing against rattled and torn ribs. My wings are nothing but ash. My eyes are filled with tears of pain, I feel helpless, and I do not care.
I do not care about anything but my family now. And Arbutus knows this- he lands upon my withers and weeps for me, does his best to aid me but can only abate some of the pain. The blood still burns red and hot form the wound; his fires cannot save this.
I see unfamiliar faces in the dim and want to speak but cannot. I understand faintly the idea that I could die here, that perhaps no one will see me and I will rest neglected, forgotten. I wonder if Arbutus will send for help, or if he does not yet understand the concept. I so easily forget that he is still a child.
I long to see my childs' eyes. I have spent too long away from them, not just for the duration of this battle. I do not spend time with them as a mother should- but do I not love them? Do I not yearn for their attention as they do mine, do I not regret every moment we are apart? Why is it then that I keep myself away- why can I not be the mother I should be?
It is too much thinking. The pain washes over again in an overwhelming wave, and I collapse even deeper as my muscles lose control over my body and I become a limp figure on the ground. I should speak- I am too tired to speak. This is all that I know.
He heard there was a battle, and he hardly knew what that was. He tried to fly but it was hopeless; he tried to run but he shook too much. He heard his mother was there and he began to cry.
Alisier felt lost, more lost than he ever had before. He had awoken to nothing beside him- Adoxa and Aure gone for one of the first times he had known, Tares gone as usual. He tried to know her, but she fled from him as if he was shameful. He could not understand a fear of love when he barely understood love to begin with. He tried to run but he shook too much. He thought of his mother there and continued to cry.
His wings spread out uselessly. They would be powerful one day- not today. His horn, growing longer each day, cut through the air audibly. He moved as fast as he could, stopped at the edge of the world and his own. He didn't know what blood was, but he knew the smell was wrong. He didn't know what pain was but he hard the cries and knew they should not have been present. He didn't know war but he knew this terror. He wanted to scream. He wanted to turn and run. He had to stay.
He tried to stop crying, he walked up to the figure of a paint mare that he knew as his own personal leader and tried to appear in control. But in the shadow of another lay the wounded, broken body of his mother, and he could not stop the tears. It was the first time he understood pain, the first time he grasped the idea that he wanted to fix it. He called his mother's name and she did not answer. He wondered if she heard him. He faintly wondered if she ever would again.
He turned to the paint mare, he tried to keep the hurt out of his expression. He swallowed a lump in his throat and he felt like he could not breathe. His voice came out a whisper, barely there. "Let me help," the child said, face contorted in a mixture of confusion and pain. He thought the words to himself, realized it was one of the first things he had ever said. He suddenly understood how little he spoke. He felt helpless, he felt strange. He felt like he didn't belong.
It had been painful and Kiba had protested each movement but Torasin now stood in the place he once lay. His injured leg held in the air, not wanting to put weight onto it for the pain. The battlefield was a mess of stricken souls and blood smears that almost brought tears into the eyes of the paint. He hadn't seen anything like this before. The unicorns had put up more of a fight than he thought they would and he was sure this was only the beginning. Fighters like those racists would be back for their revenge.
He winced in pain as it lanced up his leg once more, some waves stronger than the others. A few seconds later he realized Kiba had disappeared to the place of the painted healer the one with wings that he recognized as Onni. The brown stopped near the pegasus' hooves and trilled flicking his head over in the direction of his gilded bonded. His pushy youthful ways making sure the healer knew of his friend's predicament. Certain she knew, Kiba left but stopped along the way to greet Fajira with his sentiments and wished Lace to recover quickly. He was almost sure the white would pass it on.
Wings that had now grown powerful powered the little dragon back to Torasin, the pair were not that far away from the little area around Onni. However, they were far enough for it to be a painful journey for the paint.
[short post is short. :|]
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onni. </style> Distance feels further when you love with fervor and no second thoughts. </style>
"Thank you for your aid," Onni says with a bright smile, a gracious look on her face at the young medic. It was quite inspiring, to see one so young take up the art of healing. The mare had taken to the art of injury before healing, herself, though you would never know with the honey sweet smile she proffered the colt. Pale blue eyes stretch forward, like a sweet summer sky, until they fall onto the bloody battle worn bodies that shamble forward. They take to mournful skies then, like blue tears that hold still in her irises. Such expressions that were noticeable, though likely overlooked in the dank battlefield of the Edge.
Turn her face back to the young colt, she directs her attention to him. "Yol, I am going to need you to find peppermint. It is small, green and smells like winter in your nostrils." She offers a warm smile that has a sense of urgency before stepping up to the first patient, her physician eyes turning down toward the leg on Lace, which he held precariously. Soft expressions and an encouraging smile greet the grullo as she makes her way forward, hooves dancing lightly on the slippery terrain painted red and black. Such pain and callous hate, to what did it amount?
The cannon was crooked, Onni noted with some panic as she stepped closer to the soldier. Pleading with gentle eyes for the stallion not to move she comes yet closer, head dropping to view the strange bending of the bones. It is then that Alisier comes to her side, and Onni shakes her head to clear her thoughts before turning to the grief stricken face of the boy. "Alisier," she says thankfully, looking at his wavering expression. "See to the bleeding. Take the moss and use it as makeshift bandages. Be carefully not to press to tightly for those with broken bones." She pauses, looking inquisitively around for a large gray figure of the other colt. "There is a pegasus colt named Yol who will have peppermint. The herb eases pain when crushed. See to the other warriors until I can see them." Another encouraging smile to the brave healer graces her features, sorrow apparent in both of their faces. War, it was hard on us all.
Turning her attention back toward, lace, the mare steps forward to stand side by side for a moment. "I will try to heal your leg to the best of my ability, sir. Please do your best to hold still." With a graceful pivot and a few steps to the side, Onni positions herself to face the injured leg in question, pale eyelids falling over her eyes of blue as she calls upward toward the sun for light and fire.
A glowing began to envelope the healer, the light radiating from her figure in the dank area of the battle field, until a string of golden flames eek out, making their way through the air to wrap around Lace's injured leg, a bandage of sunlight, tightening with a warm glow that would creep into his blood and warm the stallion. The bones began to shift under the magic of the Shaman, her face contorted into concentration, breath steady, until the pieces of white washed bone fit together like a puzzle, a smile taking her face again in triumph, the sunlight stitching the now straight tissue together, until the sunlight makes its way back toward the healer and dissipates, leaving the leg feeling sore, but solid.
It was then that Onni turned her head to see the ambling form of Torasin, who she quickly turns toward to lean against for support. "You should not walk!" She says with sudden authority, making the other healer stay put for a moment with a brush of her shoulder for him to lean against.
""
The little, well, big, colt listened to Onni's instruction with an intense look on his face. Peppermint. Right. With a bob of his head, Yol turned on his great gray hooves and trotted off towards the forest, searching for the peppermint. Green. Well, at least the winter snow was white. He nosed around the bushes, under the shelter of trees, and even checked a pile of mysterious twigs. Nothing. With a flash of disappointment, Yol began to make his way back. It wasn't until he had nearly crushed the peppermint patch under one hoof did he realize it existed after all. Surprise! Nostrils flared to sniff. Indeed, it did smell like winter, ice and fresh snow. Minty fresh. With careful bites, Yol detached the leaves and most of the stalks from their roots, and held the delicate plants in his mouth as he cantered back towards the group, avoiding the injured horses and looking for Onni. There! By a grullo stallion. A bright smile on his face, he slowed to a walk, and stopped by her side. Just in time to watch, in awe, as Onni carefully reconstructed the broken bones. Oh gosh- was that really what he was training to become? The painted lady was indeed a strong mare.
Yol dipped his head, releasing the mouth-watering peppermint. It landed with a flourish on the crisp white snow. "There you go," Yol smiled, proud of himself. It was nice having someone who actually liked him choosing medicine over war, unlike his family.
Bleary eyes laced with agony watched as the dual colored angel walked towards him, dealing orders to younger healers as she went. Dull amber eyes met with a gaze as clear as a winter sky; was she sad for his sake or because of him? Suddenly the blood and dust on his skin felt uncomfortable, like he somehow had shamed himself by participating in the violence. He wanted to look away, hide the face and sink through the earth beneath her saddened eyes, but pain wouldn't allow him. Don't move? He couldn't move, not even to save his life.
From the corner of his eye he watched as she positioned herself by the broken leg. He slowly drew for breath as she closed her eyes and began to glow, a soft, gentle light enveloping her young features before it reached out and wrapped around the leg. Lace stopped breathing then, vision becoming dual as agony shot through the bone. He could feel the pipes shifting and locking into place, followed by a horrible itching sensation as the process of healing was sped up. What would have taken months upon months of slow and agonizing recuperation with a great risk of complications became shortened into a matter of minutes. As the light faded he drew a shaky breath and shifted the weight carefully, ever so slowly placing weight down upon the leg once more.
It supported him. It was whole again! a faint grimace crossed the masked face as a dull throbbing began to set in, a reminder that he was far from hundred percent healed - but it was better than anything he could have expected.
Breathing out into a heavy sigh he smiled, turning the attention back to the little mare who probably had saved his life.
"Thank you. What's your name?" She must be busy with so many wounded, already turning away to reprimand someone who apparently was up and running even though they shouldn't. Golden-cloud and Brown Fajira told him, apparently not missing much.
Even so, he wasn't about to let her disappear without giving him her name; how else would he know who to include in his prayers? He definitely needed to make up for his lack of faith after this, for surely he must have been protected by something to have come through the flames as uninjured as he still was.
10-15-2012, 09:20 PM (This post was last modified: 10-15-2012, 09:21 PM by Kiara.)
The trip to and from Dragon's Throat had taken alot out of the young red roan fem. Blood was now dried along her rump, but every now and then as she moved the deep cuts reopened and bled again. She tried to hide the fact that now the excitement and adrenaline had worn off that they actually hurt. After all, there were others who were much worse off than she. Every now and then as she had Breeze walked, she allowed her gaze to shift to him. It had been nice, to feel his wing around her... A feeling she still did not understand made her heart feel like it was racing... She needed to speak to Mirage as soon as she could. Surely the ebon mare would know and understand the emotions the roan did not.
At last they arrived. Green eyes looked over the battlefield she had left so quickly before. She looked to Breeze and spoke softly "Guess you better go help her... The others need healing worse than me." She tried to hide the pain she was in, and the fact she did not want him to leave. Quickly she looked away, to the skies again. It seemed to be she found herself doing that alot lately. So many emotions she did not understand.
"Speak speak"
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The Heart is Wiser than the Mind
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Please Tag Kiara in All Posts
Permission granted to use magic or physical force with Kiara at any time for any reason to any degree, with the exception of killing her.
They had traveled far in a short amount of time with only a short rest by a glittering lake. The last leg of their journey had been a quiet one but Breeze still wore a smile as he was thinking of Kiara’s modest answer to him telling her she was brave. He didn’t want to argue with her about it for the moment, but he took note that he should one day tell her what his mother had told him about bravery. But that would have to wait for another time.
*****
As they arrived the smell of blood overwhelmed Breeze. His legs locked and he came to an ungraceful stop. A hard lump stuck in his throat and he felt a bit queasy, his head even spun a little. It was just a horrifying sight to behold the bloody battlefield. He could smell burnt flesh and open wounds, he could even smell death. He heard blood pumping in his ears and he didn’t quite catch what the roan girl said beside him.
"Kiara… I don’t feel so good." the young stallion said in a small voice. Then suddenly his hind legs gave way under him and he sort of sat down on the ground. He couldn’t smell anything else than the burnt flesh and death, he heard only the rush of his own blood and the world before him was in a blur.
Guilt washed over the creamy little steed. Here he was, meaning to help Kiara and the other soldiers and instead of making himself useful he was about to faint! This was just too embarrassing to be true!
Breeze forced his eyes to concentrate on Onni where she stood by a grulla stallion. Slowly the world stopped spinning and he was finally able to swallow the lump in his throat. Quickly he got his butt of the ground and gave Kiara a sideways glance while he shook his body to get rid of the last pressure. Then he walked towards Onni, whom he’d never formally met.
"Lady Onni. I am Breeze. I came here with Kiara," he motioned towards the roan mare. "I would like to help both you and Kiara by treating her wounds if you would be so kind and instruct me on how to do it." he smiled a halfhearted smile, still feeling a bit shaky after his near faint.
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The Medic's Tent [Injured Qian/Allies]
