"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.
The journey from the Threshold had been a simple one, Draevo had followed the fiery pelted stallion to a clearing big enough to host his larger than life wing span. He had made the effort to indulge in any small talk the smaller stag may have thrown his way, but it had stopped when they had reached the suitable clearing. All it took was the unfurling of dual coloured wings, and with one powerful leap and beat of the enormous appendages he spun into the air without a second thought.
He had waited, hovering in the air light a mighty bird of prey, thick nostrils bellowed a snort, sending a signal for Rift to join him and lead the way and it was a simple job of keeping himself airborne after that. Which was nothing to the muscular stallion, he had almost questioned whether Rift could keep up, but elected to continue his stories of battle and bloodshed with the dainty stallion. Draevo didn't have the vocalization for a life as a noble story teller, his common tongue was far too broken and underused to be used so creatively, but for the sake of not letting the long flight be one marred with awkward silence, he gritted his teeth and got on with it.
Soon the lush fields and deep rooted tree's had become scattered as the grass turned to sand beneath them. 'Getting close' he thought with a shake of his jaw marked head, his marked rib cage heaving with a sigh. It didn't take even the brightest spark in the box to figure out that when the land turned to sea with only a large island in front of them, that that was the place they were headed. The primal stallion began his descent in one smooth motion, sailing to the ground with little effort and landing with a get thud onto the rolling sands. It scattered beneath his feet in a roll of heated red, more scattered to the winds created by his cream and smokey wings. They remained arched in the air, as if he expected to take to the air at any moments notice, and he waited for Rift to be at his side before he snorted out loud as a small way of greeting an opening to a conversation.
"This is Throat?" Deep voice rumbled deep from his chest, as bright blue eyes glanced around to see if he could spy any of this so called Warrior Herd's members. Feather and stud littered mane and tail swayed lightly in the breeze, each feather a trophy from the warriors of his homeland he had bested in battle, they danced their silent tales in the light orange moon wind — the studs were merely for decoration, and his tail may have also flicked in response Draevo's own impatience at the lack of herd members visible to him right now.
The beast would be disappointed, and slightly put off, if he did not at least get to meet one of them during his first moments touched down upon what was supposed to be his new home.
@Rift & other Dragon's Throat members, come say hi!
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
Night has fallen upon the island of the Dragon’s Throat but the golden bird-girl, as she so often does, has disdained sleep as a waste of time. Instead she is out playing by her lonesome on the expanses of rocky sand beyond the incomplete wall. It is maybe not the safest place to be in the height of the flood season but she has not been in this territory long enough to be conversant in peculiarities such as these. To her eyes the reduced beach-front could easily be normal. She splashes in the surf, she chases the waves in and out, she digs in the sand for especially shiny stones and interesting shells. A small pile of these trinkets has amassed at her feet when she loses interest and meaders back to the water’s edge with a long suffering sigh.
I have never understood how others can sleep half of their lives away. I know I need sleep, but I only give in to that need when I can no longer force my eyes open. Tonight is not a night when those traitorous eyes are demanding to be closed. It is horribly lonely in the night time though because everyone else that I have met to date is asleep. Yes, those in charge have set guards to watch the borders even in the darkness but they are no fun because they have an important job to do. I suppose that is part of the reason for my not having been assign any such duty, I would be too easily distracted.
So, here I am standing all on my lonesome with my hooves buried in the wet sand and the waves lapping against my fetlocks, drowning in mind-numbing boredom. Unable to come up with anything else to do just now I plunge my muzzle into the waters to catch a trailing piece of seaweed. My head rises again, a length of green dangling messily from either side of my mouth, and I stand here chewing thoughtfully on the salty snack. It is at this moment that I hear the subtle brush of feathers against the currents of the air and shadows pass through the moonlight.
Riel lifts her head looking up at the sky as three winged creatures drift over head, their shadows passing across the moon. Her head tilts, back and back until she almost tips herself on her rear and only then does she move to follow racing up the beach and spreading her wings to leap and soar over a low spot in the wall.
I see none of the men and women of the night guard on my patch of beach and so I decide that it is up to me to welcome this arriving flock. There are three, and their undersides are very male. They are led by a red chested stallion and one of the two wingmen is dark as the night while the other is pale gray that appears silver in the light of the moon. I am so pleased to see more feathered, flying equines that I do not consider for a moment that they might be a danger to me. Nothing appears to be stealthy or out of place in their arrival and so I assume they must be returning residents.
Clearing the wall her wings fold again and her strides lengthen as she dashes across the open desert keeping pace beneath the shapes in the sky.
“Hello! Welcome home!”
Her voice is warm and excited as she calls up to them.
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)
@Rift @Kari
(since it looks like Rift was bringing Kari back to DT around the same time...??? ;; post moved, because this makes more sense - let me know if I need to change anything.)
Helovia Hard Mode (pixel by Chan | pixel base by BronzeHalo) Actions: No killing | Tagging: Yes Riel was designed, characterized and originally played by Chan
Asavvi picked her way over the red sand on her tiny set of cloven hooves with the calm and confidence of a child who felt she had nothing to fear. This was her land; the sand and sun had welcomed her into their embrace on the day of her birth in the harshness of Tallsun and even that had been as comforting to her as one of her mother’s hugs. From the central lake to the outer shores, the filly wandered where she would, content that home was perfectly safe. That safety was often ensured by a careful watch, for the girl rarely wandered alone. Now, though she seemed to be moving northwards quite unaccompanied, her mother followed, barely visible, as a speck in the sky.
Above, the Sultana and her faithful friend Gwaihir soared in tandem, using the height to make an easy sweep of the Dragon’s Throat before ending their duties for the day. Asavvi had taken a liking to tagging along when her mother was on official throat business, endlessly interested in meeting new people an watching the workings of social dynamics. The Sultana had set her on the familiar course northward while she scanned from the sky. When they reached the northern border the girl knew her mother would descend and they could walk back to the oasis together. Someday, Asavvi thought wistfully, she would be able to fly join her mother in the sky but so far her wings were not large enough to carry her.
It was the eagle that spied the unfamiliar figures first and he said as much to Meg through their bond. “Stay with her will you?” Meg whispered into his mind and nodded down at the form of her daughter below. “I will be down in a moment. ” Without a word, the bird let himself descend while Meg swept far overhead to be sure no worrisome activity could be seen across the northern beach. Gwaihir circled lower, sticking near the small girl as she made to approach the newcomers.
Asavvi, barely a season old, had a depthless curiosity; everything she saw demanded investigation, and more that that any person she came across had to be met, had to be known, and so it should be no surprise that she had made a bee line for the strangers as soon as they had come into her sights. Had she the boundless exuberance of her brother (or of many other foals for that matter) her curious nature and lack of appropriate fear of the unknown might have had her racing up to the strangers. As is was, the filly had a well of patience and an unnatural liking of formality that had her approaching in an calm and adorably imperious manner.
She stopped before the two stallions and the mare, never flinching from their size or strength and and gazed up at the gathering with a gentle smile on her star-flecked face. “M’athchomaroon.” She greeted, with a little bow of her head—forgetting as she often did, that there was little chance of them understanding the greeting. She had taken to her father’s language just as easily as her mothers and had a habit of weaving between the two when she spoke. “I am Asavvi, what may I call you?” She beamed up at the adults, and did not flinch when she felt the familiar weight of the golden eagle as he touched down gently on her back. He also swept his gaze among the strangers, but his golden eyes were sharp with hearty disapproval and a fierce warning that was in stark contrast from the gentle grey of Asavvi’s; a princess and her bodyguard.
"Megaera"
"Asavvi"
ooc: Meg'll drop in in a bit to get around to accepting people :)
Dothraki Translations:
- M’athchomaroon - with respect (a formal greeting)
The winged gold mare is the first to pull Draevo's attention, he examined her sets of wings with mild curiosity, his own finally folded and pressed themselves against his bone marked sides. He had spied her shape beneath them as he had made to land, but couldn't make out her exact physique from such an angle in the night. She was a vision, that his mind couldn't deny, as he continued to eye her. Delicate and petite in comparison to his own robust frame, he easily dwarfed her. She moved like liquid gold while he moved with warriors precision and might.
When she finally spoke, or rather her soft but excited words of greeting finally sunk through to his core, he returned them with a slight dip of his head.
"Well met." He offered, voice smooth despite the thick accent of lands far away, like stones that had rumbled down the mountainside to the river below. The next words from his mouth failed him as a small filly entered his sight, and spoke a language his recognized immediately.
His language.
The tongue he had been born to.
Pierced nostrils flared a little in the cooled night breeze and his smokey pelt shuddered over well defined muscles as he turned to give Asavvi his attention, his gaze only broken when the eagle touched upon her back. Clearly set on defending the youngling should he feel her safety was threatened and he let out a low breath. He had not come to get clawed in the face by a disapproving bird of prey, and there would be more valiant ways to add scars to his body in future.
Skull marked head lowered to further examine the small child that had commanded his attention, the gears in his mind working over the questions that had began to form. "M'athchomaroon, Asavvi." The words flowed naturally from the primal stallion, they suited his voice much more clearly than the common tongue did. "Yer ha Draevo's Rhaesh?" The filly changed back to common as soon as she had uttered his mother tongue and his mind stalled to switch back also, ears pressed forward to understand what she was asking more clearly. "I Draevo." He announced proudly, to both Asavvi and the golden hued mare. "Draevo warrior in his Rhaesh. Want to be warrior here."
Laedere had decided that she would try and explore the borders a bit more today. Her limbs were stretched out a little, taking up ground and covering it with ease. It didn't bother her too much that she couldn't fly across these lands, for at least she knew that she could fly across the border - feel the wind against her face and pooling under her wings as the fire encased them to assist in keeping her old gift.
Sweet eyes flickered to forms in the distance. Were those other members? Members she had yet to meet? She was uncertain if she truly wanted to go meet them, but knowing that if they were a threat one must alert the herd, she began to venture toward them. Three forms were present that she did not recognize - one a child, two older pegasi. All of which had perfect wings. Aye, the golden one was about her height while the dark one towered over all of them - much as Einarr had. And, as she comes in closer, she can hear the broken speech that she had associated with that stag who she saw as a brother and a protector.
"Salutations…" she began, only to trail off, shake her head, and begin again. "Mineself intends… means, should mineself rather say, greetings." It is awkward, and the voice that spout out such Shakespearean language in graceful rhythms was slow and almost… forced. Strange, it was uncertain, for her mind struggled to find more common terms for the eloquent tongue of their olden language. "Mineself tis be Laedere," she said, trying to introduce herself before Ardere began her usual round of greetings (floating past all of them and bumping against them with delighted clicks). "That tis be Ardere. Tis mine… companion, mineself believes ye call them such…"
Oh, she hated trying to dumb it down. Perhaps one day it would flow as delicately and musically as her olden tongue, but for now… well it was the best that she could do.
"Laedere speaking." | Thoughts/others speaking. So... I'm sorry I'm so slow XD But she's here now! :D @Draevo
As was usual, the young(and woefully inexperienced) filly was predisposed to be pleased with everything and everyone she came into contact with. Though the stallion that spoke to her was a veritable war-beast, she smiled up at him, listening attentively to his question. She shook her head mildly at his inquiry and responded in the young that seemed more natural on his voice. “Vo. Vosma ave anni dothrakhqoyi. Me ezzolar lekh dothrak.”
Asavvi turned here kind grey eyes—as Gwaihir turned his wary gold ones—toward the form of the green-patterned mare and her companion as they appeared and they widened, bright with delight at the new discovery of the floating water-being. Quickly, though, she remembered her manners and stopped goggling to give the two a polite little bow. “Good evening!” The mare spoke in her own strange manner, and the little filly became even more enthralled. Her head fell slightly to onside and she soaked in the new patterns and phrasings that Leader used to introduce herself and her companion. “Mineself tis pleased to meet..ye, Miss Laedere.” she said, trying to imitate the style and grinning up at the mare. “My father speaks well of you—” she broke off in a peal of delighted laughter as the dolphin reached her.
“Asavvi.” The call came through the cool night air as the Sultana approached the gathering from the north. Megaera’s voice was perhaps a bit sharp, but not unfriendly, and the girls head snapped around toward her mother in an instant. Done with her nightly patrol, Meg sized up the cluster of bodies that surrounded her little girl-too many she did not know. Since the eagle had raised no alarm she remained relaxed, but was still determined to investigate strangers in her home. The very way she carried herself spoke volumes, ‘you’re welcome here’ said the pleasant expression on her face; ‘I’m fucking in charge’ said her warrior’s step and proudly arched neck. Stopping, she sent a quick nod at Gwaihir, who returned it before spreading his wings and disappeared into the night to hunt. Asavvi scurried and tucked herself under Meg’s wing, murmuring a contented “Mai.” and settling herself to watch the proceedings.
The sultana had a nod of hello for her herd mates before focusing her attention on the decorated stallion. She had caught the tail end of the conversation, enough at least to recognize the speech of her mate’s people and his wish to join their ranks. “M’ath. My name is Megaera, I am Khaleesi here, as you would say, though it is ‘Sultana’ by local reckoning. What brings you to our home?” Meg waited for the dismissal of her gender, waited to crush it. She was quite familiar with the stallion’s culture, for both Gaucho and Einarr had come from the same blood, and besides her children the two stallions were first in her heart; one her foundation the other her fire. Her affection for them, however did not change the fact that both her brutal, hard-headed idiots from a male-dominated tribe….She’d see how this one measured up to them.
"Megaera"
"Asavvi"
ooc: Meg'll drop in in a bit to get around to accepting people :)
Dothraki Translations:
- Vo. Vosma ave anni dothrakhqoyi. Me ezzolar lekh dothrak. - No, but my father is a bloodrider, he taught me [the language].
- mai - mother
- m’ath - hello
Soon another mare joined the meeting, interrupting the response he had ready to give to the small filly in front of him. Different in her markings than any of the others present with a floating sea creature as her company. Draevo can't help but wonder if the entire throat is dominated by mares and less so by the throat, a Khalasar of mares, his mind churns out and he snorts to relieve the thought. Laedere speaks strangely and he finds himself having to concentrate to try and fathom what she's saying. He made out her name was Laedere but his mind simplified the spell to Lay-dere, inner voice punctuating each simple syllable. The sea creature shares a similar name, but he doesn't stop to articulate that particular one.
Either way, he isn't opposed to more female company and he nods his large head in greeting to her, neck arched and wings half-extended from his body.
The ground swells again, like the sides of a pregnant mare to produce another mare from the night skies. The bay is slightly taller than the cream and green. Neither is he fooled by the relaxed look on her face and immediately his wings bristled as his shoulders squared to meet her warriors step, neck crested and bulging the thick muscles that called it their home. This one different. Asaavi makes it apparent that this one is her mother and while the foal had been nothing but pleasant to the brute, he feels no need to relax his aggressive, warrior stance for her sake. This is a silent battle of prowess, between warriors, Khaleesi against a wanting Bloodrider. He watched to see if she cracked, if she is mated to one of his land, than she would know that the first sign of weakness is the first and last mistake she would make.
If she did not yield to the beast in front of her, crumble beneath his iron gaze and aggressive stance then she would be in good footing. At least for now, it would begin the most basic building blocks for the would-be Dragon's Throat Warrior to serve under her authority.
"Khaleesi." His gravel rough voice repeated, testing it on his tongue as his lightning washed orbs studied her closely, he disregarded her common title in favor for the one he understood. Mares had to work hard in their land, that was true, his own dam had fought against the odds to become a feared force of nature, that even now in her age, could not afford to look weak for a second for the knowledge of ruin awaited her. "Want to be warrior of Throat. Was dothrakhqoyi to Khal in Rhaesh. Rift say you are strong." Deep baritone stressed the word strong for the Khaleesi, as a wing tip was thrust in Rift's direction. "Are you strong?" His desire to be apart of a strong herd fizzled like electricity beneath his words, but age old customs and blood made him anything but humble and pleading for a space in the Throat.
The Sunspear stood in the hard, critical gaze of the blue-marked Bloodrider and did not back down. Aggressive, he stood with an arrogance that she knew well and she had no doubt he could support that silent claim with a impressive skill in battle. If he had been born and bred in the same culture as Einarr and Gaucho, he would be well trained with that inmate savagery that that far-distant country seemed to boast. Yes, he seemed a fearsome thing but the bay woman met his challenge with and unbroken stare; black eyes burning. How many times had she had to do this? How many times would she have to again? The land crawled with warrior stallions that towered over her—they always had to be so damn tall—but she’d won her position, and their respect, and damn it, she’d defend it. If he chose to make this a physical altercation, then she’d be happy to meet him.
"We are the Sun’s chosen, blessed with his light and his fire. Aye, the Throat is strong.” Megaera’s hard, blazing stare broke into a cocky grin and she spread her wings wide, a proud gesture over the land she loved, and pulled at the magic her god had given her. Asavvi, recognizing the gesture and knowing what came next, quickly tucked her head into her mother’s with eyes shut tight. Light exploded from the mare, turning the night to day for several long seconds before withdrawing back into it’s place in her heart. ”And so am I.” The words were deep and resonant, as clear an answer to his postured challenge as she could make.
With the light abated, the filly pulled her head up again and inched forward, peering interestedly at the stallion’s many markings. Meg spared her an indulgent glance before refocusing on Draevo. “You would be welcome in our ranks, as I know the skill of those in your country. Gaucho, who is Khal here, is Dothraki as is my husband.” Yes, he would be welcome enough, as long as he accepted her authority. She might have held on to the grin, but her posture did not flinch in all the time she spoke. Straight, proud, and just as tall as she was capable of being, Megaera waited for him to relent in this battle of wills.
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