"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.
It had been quite a long time since the pair had walked this forest, but as their lungs filled with the familiar scent of dying foliage, they felt strangely at home. In their time away from Helovia, they spent time working a small harem for Argen’s grandfather. Now, however, Argen was back. This time he had two purposes: 1. Find the offspring of Tyradon and Confutatis and teach them all he had to offer; 2. Find information about his father’s life here in Helovia. The stallion heard whispers that his father was a disgrace here, but Argen was not convinced. While teaching the children was the purpose he had given his grandfather for leaving, it was not what held all of the weight in his mind.
For now, however, he and his companion were keen on re-introducing themselves to the land. Something was different. Solomon could feel it in his bones, and he sent waves of unease towards Argen’s fiery heart. Between them, the equine was definitely the more confident and brave one, living life with a bull’s head and a mountain’s heart. Solomon was more timid in comparison, though in the grand scheme of life was still quite fiery on his own accord. Now, however, there was a change in the air and it sent chills down the bronze’s spine. These changes were not normal changes caused by natural disasters, such as they had experienced before, but magical changes. There was something about it as a whole that made the dragon want to hiss with such bitter distaste that Argen could taste it on his tongue.
Lowering his head toward the reddened pool, Argen took his fill of the cool liquid. The height of Orangemoon was not upon them, yet, making the afternoon quite warm still. This was much more mild compared to the fall seasons Argen had experienced in the past, and he was glad for that. He would be travelling a great deal now, and he would rely on the calm weather to keep him going. Solomon lifted from his master's back to leap into the trees to hunt unsuspecting rodents.
I'LL BE YOUR DAYDREAM, I'LL WEAR YOUR FAVOURITE THINGS
Get drunk on the good life, I'll take you to paradise
Friend.
Lilómiel's thought did not sit right in Nym's mind. It was frivolous and out-of-place, a mention that perturbed her more than it piqued her curiosity. Her bonded might've meant something different, like 'stranger', but it was always difficult to tell with him. The definition of his words didn't necessarily line up with what he meant, and this doublethink had become a regular form of deception when he wished to keep his thoughts private. Nym understood this (and in fact participated in it herself)... but he wouldn't—shouldn't—be acting out in such an erratic manner. Lil didn't say friend; the two of them knew she did not have friends. Volterra was family, and she maintained a couple acquaintances verging on more-than-acquaintances—but she was solitary in nature, and solitary by will. Friends did not belong in the equation of Nymeria-and-Lilómiel.
The trees groaned, their leaves crackling and hissing in the Orangemoon wind. Nymeria flared her nostrils indecisively as her line of sight flickered between tree trunks and long shadows. Friend, Lil repeated insistently, wings rustling and snapping. With a soft thump, he took off into flight, flitting through the Deep.
Wait, Nymeria snapped mentally, but the black neither slowed nor looked back. She longed to sigh, to let heave a great and vast exhale of breath—instead she lengthened her step from walk to trot. The daughter of the World Eater was careful to keep an eye ahead of her; she didn't entirely trust Lilómiel's intentions. They had grown closer, yes, but with their maturation their twisted bond had convoluted and knotted ever further. He might be incapable of deceiving her, but she wouldn't put it past him to scheme and hope nonetheless. We are, she thought with a tinge of amusement, too alike for our own good.
And she kept an eye out for... the "friend", whatever that meant.
There was a snap of massive wings, a flash and glitter of bronze weaving between shafts of shadow. Lilómiel, ten or fifteen meters ahead, let out a cheerful trill of greeting. Nymeria's teeth locked together in corpselike fashion. No—and she snapped off Lil's song abruptly. The silence left in its wake was gaping and wide and impenetrable, filled only by the rustle of brittle leaves and the low groan of tree trunks. Her heart rate accelerated, her ears pivoted forwards, her eyes narrowed, and her movements liquified. When she walked now, she absorbed every vibration of the ground. While impeded by moving at snail's pace, as a result she was almost soundless (and hopefully undetectable.)
Go, she commanded.
Lilómiel began to sing again, detouring away from Nymeria to act as a lure. Now, Nymeria's stealth was not a matter of fear so much as curiosity and arrogance; the black would not greet a true stranger without her explicit permission. There was someone she knew—and knew well—hidden in the trees. It would've been easy to peer through Lil's mind and find out who he had greeted in such a way, but she would rather have a bit of a surprise.
(In all honesty, she expected it to be Volterra anyways.)
Nymeria, little more than a flash of movement here and there, peered out from between the thick press of trees. There was stallion-smell, the buoyant reek of sweat and fleshy heat—she caught sight of a rump, but it sparked no imminent memories. Forward she crept...
She saw.
"Argen!" The grullo cried, bursting from her cover towards the familiar face. "Oh, Argen! Where have you been?!"
Eventide is softly casting o'er the earth a magic spell,
And a love-song, everlasting, on the night wind seems to swell.
Nostalgia was not a feeling she was particularly fond of. It had a way of leaving you misty eyed and sighing, of blinding you to the wonders of the present and damper the spirit of any conversation. Yet it crept up on her like the shadows of dust, swept her in its murky embrace and brought her mind to things she'd rather not think about. Dead mothers, for instance, or times passed, places half forgotten and happier days.
Learning how to use her wings had opened new horizons to the opalescent cygnet. Her journeys across Helovia no longer spanned over weeks but had been shortened to days at a time. In return, those days could see her in all corners of the land, from the Blood Falls in the north to the Throat in the south, and more often than not she circled over the vast expanse of forest where she had spent large parts of her childhood. Erthë rarely felt any need to actually descend through the dense canopy. The memory of the shadows beneath, of mossy trees and gnarled branches was etched into her very essence, capable of bringing as much sorrow and longing as familiarity and comfort. But nostalgia had a way of pushing her to relive everything that hurt her, killing her smile like bittersweet poison.
Dual colored eyes were glazed and distant, distracted by the ghost of a mare long since gone as she walked along the familiar path through the trees. Even without looking she knew the way, knew it like she knew the curve of her own youthful hip and limping stride. Any moment now the red pool would appear, with the gnarled black tree dipping its roots into the clear water. Once, in a happier time, she had played there with a young stallion, their voices reverberating between rough trunks as fireflies danced in the shade. If she listened closely, Erthë was sure she could hear it still; the ring of voices, a startled cry and splashing water...
"Argen! Oh, Argen! Where have you been?!"
Startled, the lithe little fawn blinked and shook her head, taken aback when she realized that there really was someone there. Torn between curiosity and a feeling of intruding upon something private, she picked her way through the bushes and emerged on the outskirts of the clearing. White locks cascaded down the slender neck in a casual mess - recklessly charming or merely unkempt, depending on ones taste - as she raised her head and peered across the open space, pale near colorless eyes darting around until they landed upon the horses. One was a stranger; stallion and mature looking, handsome in a roguish kind of way despite being neither crowned or feather-cloaked. A dragon flapped in the air above him, its metallic scales shining like the glowing acorn she wore in her tail; Erthë breathed in softly in awe at the sight of it, and only reluctantly looked away from its splendor to notice the other presence.
This, however, was not a stranger. Not in the true name of the word at least. Nymeria was the sister of the stallion she had acquainted on this very spot earlier in the summer, a young mare who had managed to get on the wrong side of lady Ophelia and caused a scene by wriggling her way out of a challenge. Something in Erthë's stomach churned at the sight of the dark-steel girl, a mixture of nervousness and admiration and scandalized curiosity as to what she had sought from the blood-stained lady that started the whole mess. To study beneath her... Hm. Erthë wasn't entirely convinced.
"Pardon my intrusion. Never mind me, I'll just... be over here" she mumbled softly, daring another few steps into the clearing, knowing she probably ought to turn around and leave these two alone (did they know each other? Maybe they were busy doing grown up things! Somehow the thought made her uncomfortable) but too curious - read nosy - to even consider it. Better they call her out on being a busybody than be left out on anything!
Giving the two a wide berth she picked her way over to the pond and lowered her porcelain crowned head to drink, eyes mostly hidden behind frosted lashes but secretly studying both horses for reactions, expressions, anything at all that might interest her.
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