"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.
"How long do you think it’s been there for?” she asked of no one in particular.
Ghost was standing and looking at the blood tree near the oasis with a speculative gaze. It was the tallest thing around and drew the eyes with its magnificent pose as it stretched towards the sun. Much like the trees in the Deep Forest the sprite suspected it had probably seen much in its lifetime, but still it grew and stood timelessly. The sprite wished she could tap into its memories, to see what it had seen and experience what Helovia was like a long, long time ago. Was the desert always like this? Who had led in ancient times? What were the horses like? A sigh passed through her lips and she moved to stand under it as rain began to fall. In the change of seasons Orangemoon had brought an alarming amount of rainfall and the water did not soak into the dry land and, instead, loitered around forming large puddles and causing floods. The extra moisture was a nice relief from the heat, but it got a little too extra at times. She wondered if this was normal, did the Throat normally flood in Orangemoon, she had not experienced autumn here and this was her first. She hadn’t seen anyone running around in an alarming fashion so, for now, the banshee took it as normal.
The gentle pitter, patter on the trees lulled Ghost into a doze as the rain brought nice smells with it. There was something almost addicting to the smell of the wet earth, although now and then she would get a whiff of Fantôme and her nose would wrinkle at the sudden intrusion on her senses. Wet dog wasn’t a nice smell on any day. He would often wander under the tree and then back out again, the wolf loved the rain and he sat just a few paces from the tree, letting the downfall soak him wet.
For a long time Ghost gazed at him and thought it almost poetic as the rain fell and the wolf watched.
12-18-2015, 06:50 PM (This post was last modified: 12-18-2015, 06:54 PM by Riel.
Edit Reason: formatting; I seem to have endless trouble with that
)
in the golden lightning of the sunken sun o'er which clouds are bright'ning thou dost float and run like an unbodied joy whose race is just begun
It is early morning in the Throat on another day of a very wet Orangemoon. A gilded pegasus is enjoying her leisure by the watering hole, double wings spread out to take full advantage of the rain shower. She drinks her fill then tucks her head back to lip at her damp feathers, separating them carefully to aid in their cleaning. Her nostrils flare wide and flutter questioningly, as if they have caught a strange scent. However, it does not seem to concern her over much for she simply continues her grooming routine. After a while her head snaps up and her bright eyes squint into the growing mists.
That gaze is trained back over her shoulder and at length it fixes on the giant tree that she has paid no attention to before now. It is a massive tree and with it’s red sheen it blends well against the desert background. This monstrosity towers over all below it, branches spreading to create a large circular patch of relatively dry ground beneath them. The trunk is great in width and scarred here and there by ancient fires long past. Riel can not see that it bleeds red blood for it is not currently wounded, but that would likely not come as a surprise. Seemingly awed she turns, wings still extended, and creeps forward towards it.
I could have sworn I felt eyes watching me as I preened but there is no one about, not on the land or in the sky… at least not that I can see. There is a tree though, a great, old tree. Perhaps it is the silent, unmoving regard of this aged thing that I felt though it does not posses eyes. I wonder, as many before me surely have, what it has stood witness to in it’s lifetime. The rain is no bother to me, but all the same I move forward and slink beneath the branches of the beast. My wings remain extended, I must not forget to let them dry fully before I attempt to fly again, and the trunk of the tree is so vast that I imagine only the very tips of my feathers peek out around it.
Riel comes beneath the branches oblivious to the shadow mare and her yellow-eyed companion lurking on the other side. She presses her forehead against the trunk and whispers in a soft, melodious voice as if the tree might understand and answer.
“Who are you? What have you seen?”
the pale purple even melts around thy flight like a star of Heaven in the broad daylight thou art unseen, but yet I hear thy shrill delight
(Image Credits | table by Chan | quote from "to a skylark" by Percy Bysshe Shelley)
@Ghost @Misael
Helovia Hard Mode (pixel by Chan | pixel base by BronzeHalo) Actions: No killing | Tagging: Yes Riel was designed, characterized and originally played by Chan
12-23-2015, 03:18 PM (This post was last modified: 12-23-2015, 03:19 PM by Misael.)
The beast had found himself staying inside the borders of the throat recently, his ventures on pause. He had met many faces in his time here and he was proud that he had ventured out in acquaintances rather then across the lands. Soon though, he would return to the masses of Helovia to patrol as well as gather intel that his job so called for. Perhaps he too would suture the broken relationships of so many.
The chromed released a large sigh as the warm rain fell down his coat, his tassels soaked and heavy on his crest. He had gotten caught in the unexpected change of weather and sought shelter, hoping that he could at least dry. Miseal caught sight of the tree that he heard much of, golden orbs squinting through the buckets of rain and dark skies to find it's trunk. There, he arrived in a dripping, cold, mess to say the least. The words of another seeped through the wet shield of his ears, his body shaking as he tossed the water off him. Miseal searched for the source of the question, her black coat nearly blending in with the shadows of the sky and tree. Walking closer to her, he joined her as she looked upon the wolf in the rain. "I would think surely it's been here far longer then us." He whispered, turning away from the rain to peer at Ghost. He of course knew her, but she more then likely did not know him. "I am Miseal by the way."He said, words ever deep and low.
Ears flipped back as the scent of another spoke into his nostrils. Turning golden orbs, he found another leaning against the bark of the great tree that they all took shelter in. Brow arching, he spoke to Riel, the mare he had met earlier while helping Maren in building the church "Are you alright?" Miseal asked, concerned if his fellow herd mate was okay.
OCC: I totally forgot about this thread! So a quick gross post up!
01-11-2016, 10:04 AM (This post was last modified: 01-11-2016, 10:04 AM by Ghost.)
maybe I'm a ghost
just a whisper in a puff of smoke
Ghost was aware of the gilded mare that had also come to linger under the tree, but the girl had said nothing and, thus, Ghost also said nothing. She imagined the great tree would draw the attention of any who happened to come near it and she enjoyed the shelter it provided, whilst side eying the strange mare who had come to join her. What took Ghost’s attention the most was the fact she had four wings and not the usual two, she was golden from head to toe and even her hair seemed precious as it fell in creamy folds. She was certainly beautiful Ghost gave her that. Yet, how did she fly with four wings? How did the movement work? The banshee even shifted her own feathered appendages to try and imagine how she would work four wings. Perhaps it gave her more power? Could she fly faster than most? Then she imagined how long it took to clean each wing and the sprite visibly grimaced. Through the calming pitter-patter of the rain she heard the mare whisper something, to the tree perhaps, who are you? What have you seen? The same questions Ghost herself had been wondering earlier. So she wasn’t the only one who sought the knowledge the tree held, if only there was a way to find out and to see through into its old memory.
However, before Ghost could offer some sort of reply to the gilded mare, there was yet another voice that broke into the peace they had. It was a stallion this time, this one lacked any wing at all and was, all in all, rather colourful to look at. His great horns that curved back from his head drew the sprite’s gaze as she wondered if they were perhaps a little heavy to carry. He was, however, very tall and made Ghost feel like a pony standing next to his stocky body, though she did spare a moment to admire the muscle that rippled throughout. She wouldn’t miss him in a crowded place that much was for certain. He introduced himself as Misael and Ghost found she didn’t recognise the name.
“Is it a habit of yours to point out the obvious?” she replied with a playful glint in her gaze and proffered a small nod, “Ghost” the banshee introduced. His voice was deep and the sprite thought it matched his overall muscular appearance. There was something about him that reminded her of Abaddon, apart from Abaddon wasn’t as… Colourful. The male’s gaze had turned to the golden mare, however, and Ghost watched him, as he seemed to be concerned over the mare. So these two knew each other, or so the sprite guessed from the fact the he only introduced himself to Ghost and not to the golden girl who looked like she was trying to make a connection with the great tree. Of course, she could also be wrong.
For a moment, Ghost thought about making some clever comment, but she held her tongue and waited for the quad winged mare to confirm she was, indeed, okay.
[ooc: Sorry for the wait guys!! <3 Have my 200th post :D]
01-28-2016, 09:44 PM (This post was last modified: 01-28-2016, 09:46 PM by Misael.)
The onyx winged mare replied smartly, and the beast chuckled, finding humor in that fact that Miseal would have said something exactly like that. He responds, trying again to explain the thoughts that swirled within him. "No, I mean like longer then civilization. Perhaps it is intertwined with godly wars? I do wish I knew the history of some of these scars." He speaks, eyes looking up and down the ruined bark. If only scars could speak, the world would be a place of much more knowledge. He looks upon the tree with respect, turning to the mare, letting his golds fall upon the eyes of a Ghost. "It has quite the strength, admirable even. I wonder what lies behind each scar." He adds, cursing his inner geek. Though the question remained true, what was the truth beyond the tree that help more mystery then it did bloodied sap.
There is a pause whilst they waited for the winged mare's reply, and as they wait he turns back to the so called Ghost. "Why Ghost?"' He ponders, damn he was just completely full of questions and wonderings and ultimate geekiness. Perhaps that these thoughts were good for him, anything but glooming, grey words was gladly accepted. He searches her face, the informant looking for cracks, for switches, anything that would allow him in, to allow him to press and poke. Even with fellows, Miseal still likes to truly know them, understand who they are, and why they are who they are. As much as the colored wanted to hide it, he was completely, annoyingly, a geek. Informant was just a cover.
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