"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.
02-04-2016, 12:16 AM (This post was last modified: 02-04-2016, 09:41 PM by Zandora.)
Zandora I already know I'm going to hell so at this points it's go big or go home
It was time. She had put off this day for too long, holding in the child with all of her will, all of her wishes that this was just a dream and that she would just fucking wake up. There wasn't going to be any of that, no night in shining armor would kiss her from the treacheries of her mind, of herself. She was all alone in this, and as pain pinched her eyes closed and rumbled through her small, skinned frame, she fell to the ground, a heap of shadow and violet, of misery and mistakes. The cold was little to her burning skin, to the sweat that collected underneath her amethyst cloak and on top of her silken onyx coat. Fog seeped and crawled on the ground, covering her legs in a mask of clouded porcelain. The mountains behind her were the only protection she was offered(she did not dare think of what existed within their rocks and pines), for the expanse in front her was a deadly concoction of whistling winds, shifting fog, and space, oh so much space.
The cares of where she was slipped away as the severity that twisted and tossed within her grew, the tortures and agony of the night only beginning as her price was cripplingly paid. Her body begins to take over as the first time mother lays victim to it's contraptions and searing torments. Somewhere in the back of her mind she wanted him here, but knew that Panzram was no man that would be what she wanted, the vixen didn't look for the men she needed, but rather those that were what she didn't. He too was forgotten as her pain branded the air, her vocals distressed and loud. Despite her attempts to be invisible, Zandora is vividly placed within the eye of the world. She is a shadow amongst a white truth.
She does not move, does not breath although her thirsty lungs starve for oxygen, does not do anything but blankly stare, emotionless. She is no mother overwhelmed with the gift she had brought to the world, that cannot wait to lay eyes on what she had so beautifully carried around for so long. No, she does not want to look, does not want to see what burden, what beauty she delivered to this cursed world. For Zandora is no mother, no lover, and this child would grow up into a world with innocent eyes, and realize all too quickly that she was unwanted. The only choice she had, the only justice Zandora could offer the creature was death.
The arabian stands, her body feeling hollowed, not by the voidness of the creatures weight, but by the emptiness of herself, of her heart. She has yet to look into it's eyes, does not want to look into it's eyes, for the less she saw the less she would remember, would regret. Her head bends, amythest horn lowering to the tender, wet flesh, horn hovering milimeters away from everything that she could've grown to want, could've learned to love. Her eyes move then, and they look with her own, the child's orbs reflecting her, expect a pupil lain innocently placed within young eyes. Zandora crashes then, melting at the everything that she would grow to want, would learn to love. Hastily she lets her brain take over as her tongue cleans the child's coat. Her daughter's coat. Hers.
Something reflects in Zandora's eyes, and although she does not know what love really is, this, this was love.
OCC: @Panzram I am going to post Cor, anyone now welcome!
I do not understand the feeling that encompasses me, envelopes me, it is not pleasant, that I am sure of. It is opposite of the warmth I have felt in the crimson walls that I floated within. It is void, barren, cold. My skin is covered with slime, and the air around me does my body no justice as I shake, shake, shake. I merely stare, eyes wide and starving to see and experience this world that I have been brought into. Though I hunger for exploration I only desire to stay in my crumbled ball of just me, feeling no urge to move, content with lying here for forever.
It is then that I see her, but it is not welcoming, loving. No. The grace that I imagined she would hold was replaced with a darkness, some glint of weariness echoing in those vibrant colored sockets. I do not know what this horse, my mother? Had wrong with her, but I did not feel lured to her, had little interest in anything she had to offer me. The spiraled thing atop her head points to me, my skin recoiling at the pressure and sharpness that indents my young skin in a small crater. I try to find my vocals, squirming away from her touch, a whimper releasing from newborn chords. I could only stare once again, seeking out her eyes, wanting to see them again, even if they did not fill with a feeling that I knew I wanted to experience. The sharp pain stops then, momma's eyes filling with warmth, and I am allowed to hope that momma loves me. I did not know what she was doing, did not register that it was meant for death, for my naive mind could not understand such depths and lengths of momma's thoughts. It was all okay though, as her tongue slid across my coat I begin to phantom a love for her, and although I didn't know this now, eventually I would understand momma's intentions and I would understand.
chat chat
OCC: my first attempt at first person and playing a foal, I am awful at it so bare with me, now anyone can reply!
I had kept a close tab on my little Shadow, the vixen that defied me in so many similar ways to the phantom that I had been addicted to countless moons ago. Whether she knew it or not, I lingered nearby on occasion, waiting for this very day to come. While I did not go into the Aurora Basin, my distaste for the land still prevalent on my tongue, I did often keep my life as a rogue to the north. I kept alert to any sounds of mares in foal, tracking her familiar scent to stay alert as to when she was around. It was how I followed her today, the trail of perfume she left behind as she went into labor.
I had arrived just in time to watch my child arrive in this cruel world, though I kept a large distance. I made no attempt to announce my presence was made as my chocolate gaze hammered down on them, auds pricking forward with curiosity as I watched Zandora rise to her feet with her horn pointed straight at the child's neck. My lips curled back into a silent snarl at the sight, stepping forward to prepare myself to intervene. Such action turned out to not be needed, as the mare's body language softened and she began to groom our child. Allowing the pair enough time to bond, knowing that it was necessary for my child to have an increased chance of survival, I studied the filly from a distance. There was no doubt that she was mine, there was not a soul in Helovia that could deny her heritage by any means. This thought pulled a smile at my lips, my crown raising with pride as I finally decided it was time to close in the distance between us.
"Very nice, my Shadow...To think, I thought I would have had to step in a few moments ago." The compliment was followed by a dark tone, sharp eyes narrowing at the vixen I had claimed as my personal pet when I indicated that I had seen her threaten the life of the filly. With a snort to dismiss the subject, I dropped my gaze down to the appaloosa filly to get a better look at her. She certainly would grow up to be a pretty little thing, a daughter that I would have to protect from any creature that had a mind as devilish as my own. My nose lowered to the girl, memorizing her scent as my voice rumbled towards my little Shadow. "What have you decided to name her?" My crown lifted as I stepped back, waiting for my daughter to rise to her feet.
Please tag Panzram in first posts only. Violence and magic can be used on him, just please do not kill or permanently injure/maim.
Zandora I already know I'm going to hell so at this points it's go big or go home
Zandora had been lost in the moment of bringing something into this world, something of her own, that she had not noticed the presence of another. It was only when the growing black leopard's low growl released from her throat did Zandora's body coil in defense as she stepped over her filly, guarding her with everything she had, everything she was, could ever be. It felt so strange to be of such importance to this being, this being that's existence relied on her. This being that is yours Zandora.
Her orbs sought for the body of which Evara alerted her of, eyes settling on Panzram in all of his flatteringly dark, delicious, glory. Her mind wards the snarling jade eyed leopard away, but her body does not yet relax. She knew herself quite well, and if she couldn't trust herself, then by hell she would not trust him. His words let her guard down slightly though as she steps aside to let the beast view the beauty of their creation. She does not wish to speak on her latter actions, for it was all impulse and zero thought. Lie to yourself, if you think it will solve your problems. She knows all to well the voice that had created itself in her mind was right, but she refuses to except it, and does not let her thoughts trip over it another second.
His action brings her lost thoughts back to the earth, her defenses rising as he neared the girl. Zandora does not express her slight fear, for this was surely just how all mothers felt? This was not her own problem, right? She seemed to ask herself, searching for answers that would not come, looking for comfort that would not come. Panzram seems to be of no bad intent, and when he asks of her name, she glances back down to her ball of innocence, deciding on a name that just seemed right. "I have decided to name her Cortana." She mutters, looking at him then, "How'd you find me? I did not think you would come." She askes, avoiding the words that wanted to come out that almost did, the words that showed weakness and would surely be unaccepted in those eyes of his. I missed you.
Cortana stirs underneath the gazes of the black and paint, Zandora's nose lowered as she nudged the wobbly filly to her feet, being sure to help her when she had finally risen. It had taken Cortana quite a few times, and it took a lot of encouragement, for she seemed to be disinterested in standing, in moving at all. There was concern that rested in Zandora's eyes, for this seemed abnormal to the first-time mother, surely this child of hers had not already felt her mother's burdens, and had lost interest in such a world, of such pain? Once again, Zandora is reminded, she is not ready.
Trying to prove to herself that this wasn't true, that she could be the mother that others had been, Zandora spoke softly to the clumsy filly, beckoning her to her side, perhaps a drink would help bring the color to those mirrors of eyes. After minutes of trying, with no response, Zandora looks hopelessly at Panzram as Cortana curled up in a ball beside Evara, more importantly, not beside her. The filly looked so dull so frail, "I-I don't understand what's wrong?" She mumbles, looking to him for something, for anything.You have failed Zandora, yet again.
OCC: @Panzram I'm not posting Cor again so you can go/anyone else
My Shadow had named the child, Cortana...A lovely little name for our daughter, beautiful and alluring just as she would grow to be. Dark eyes glanced upwards towards my pet, one ear flicking back as she asked of how I had found her. My nares flared while an insulted snort escaped, crown pulling back just slightly when she spoke of how she thought I would not come. "Of course I would come... I am present for the birth of all my children, unless I am unable to do so otherwise. I've been keeping close to the north during the last bit of your pregnancy, I knew you would be due soon. You may be my Shadow, but I will be the one to follow you when needed."
As my ebony and violet pet began to try and coax our daughter to rise, my eyes narrowed just slightly. It seemed that she was trying for quite a long while, and Cortana was having none of it. Was the child simply stubborn? What kind of newborn doesn't want to drink? Eyes still narrowed, one brow raised as the filly snuggled beside the stupid cat rather than feed. Was she confused? Did she think the damned leopard was her mother? Did she already feel threated by Zandora, since it was her very mother who had pressed the tip of her dagger to the child's throat? Ever so vaguely, I caught my pet's question. For once, I had no answers. There would be no comfort from me, no reassurance that this was normal and she would decide to get up when she wants to. For this was certainly not normal, in any sense. Perhaps some...motivation, would do her some good?
I stepped closer to the filly, ignoring the cat and lowering my crown to the filly's rump. A gentle little shove with my nose ought to do it, right? I waited a few seconds to see if my daughter would move, my heart beginning to race erratically as I tried to figure out what was wrong with her. The filly's coat was not as lustrious as it should be, her fragile body growing weaker with each minute passing by that she refused to drink. Maybe there was an instinctual reason that Zandora had nearly taken her life. Perhaps this child was not meant to live past today...
At this thought, my ears pinned back as I glowered at the dirt. How could this have happened? I had never had such problems with my children before. If it wasn't my genes then...
Burning eyes shot back up to the mare, ears still pinned against my mane as I raised my crown, the blood-stained daggers on my crown shining dangerously in her direction. Deep within the pit of my stomach, the anger and resentment grew. A fiery pit that made my blood boil with a misplaced rage that I surely thought was all because of her. Carefully I stepped around my child, making sure that I would not harm her. After all, nothing harms a daughter of mine when I'm around. Not even by my own actions. "You..." The words hissed out of my lips like venom. I couldn't even fathom an insult, my mind solely focused on finding some sort of revenge for my child, for the damage caused from sharing her bloodlines. My tense muscles shook just before I sprang towards the vixen, horns aiming to slice upwards at her shoulder. She would fix this. Zandora had to fix this. I would force her.
Zandora I already know I'm going to hell so at this points it's go big or go home
Panzram continues to surprise her, his words held a certain lacing to them, and Zandora clutched onto that, not wanting to forget them. She didn't know Panzram, not really, the only thing she did know was that she missed what he offered her, and if he said he'd be her shadow just as she has been his, well the motherly hormones in her did not want those words to be so lightly taken. She knew this, this craving, well it wasn't love she wanted, nor really approval, Zandora wanted loyalty and care, that's it. Perhaps the stallion didn't mean for her to read so much into his words, but as she always did, she exploited them and analyzed until some higher understanding was created.
Now was not the time to deal with these revelations and feelings that encompassed her, she had a child, her child, their child, and Cortana had to be her focus. Evara looked alert and guarding, treating the child as her treasure and the animal looked ready to do anything for it. As much as she loved(is she even capable?) Evara, the cat was still young and Zandora was Cortana's mother, not Evara, Cortana was Zandora's responsibility.
Zandora watched, her heart torn and shattered, as Panzram tried to encourage Cortana to her feet, the filly turned to look at him, but her eyes were all glossed over, her fluffy purple and white hair dulling as the seconds passed. Zandora's heart clenched at the sight of her dying child, would her first creation get stolen from her before she had the chance to learn how to mother her, love her? Zandora wanted to remain strong, wanted to refuse the idea of death of such innocence, of such a pure child! But Zandora had a heart, and just like all those that contained one, it was vulnerable to cuts and scars. Hers was sliced straight through the middle, and her willpower was bleeding away with the black liquid that poured from her icy complex.
Who knew it was possible, the vixen finally breaking? Pathetic!
Her head sagged, knees shaking as she tried to reach her child. She just wanted to hold Cortana, her tiny, frail body, steaming in the cold winds, cover her with the purple cloak that lay in the ground, let her pass in peace before the reaper came to steal her child away from Zandora. How could the world be so cruel? She tried to tell herself this wasn't her fault, but as soon as she begun to near her child, wanting only to love Cortana, she faced Panzram. There was something tugging in her mind, warning her, but Zandora was too far gone, drowning in the black puddle that seeped into every crevice of her lungs, of her mind, of her heart. All she heard was the faintness of acid dripping off his words, his hate reaching her too late, before she could defend herself from his attack. Where she bled black inside, now she bled red, blood pouring from a newly created gash on her shoulder.
An anger like no other released from her, her purple eyes became dangerously wicked, all the depression, the saddness, the pain forming and twisting into a rage. She forgot about Cortana, forgot about the death that would soon be collected from the child. Evara sprung from her place near the newborn to her bonded's side, and released a defensive growl into the frigid wind. Her claws had unsheathed, and she stood between them, trying to protect Zandora from this man that only seconds ago had been friend, now foe. Unfortunately, the cat's size was still too small to do anything, and Zandora forced the leopard behind her. "Me?" She hissed, all this anger that spun and intoxicated her, well she didn't know what to do with it. She couldn't possibly attack him, and there wasn't enough words in this world to make him hurt. "Leave me be, leave us. You are no good here." She spoke. There wasn't enough power behind her words, her anger diminishing too quickly to be fierce enough to scare away the beast. She hated to know that Panzram had seen her this way, seen her so weak. No one has seen her weak, except a very small amount, and she hated that.
Pushing past him, her energy drained, shoulder stinging and bleeding, she collapsed by Cortana. Evara had followed her, jade eyes glaring and watching Panzram while Zandora turned her attention to her child. The vixen nuzzled the dull filly, Cortana's eyes filled with distantness, the color visibly paling before Zandora's own purples. Zandora wrapped her body around Cortana, shielding her from the winter, from the Panzram, from the pain that all this world would only offer her. Maybe it was best for her to leave now, before she had to grow up, before she learned to love, and the tolls of such knowledge. The little filly moved beside Zandora, the woman's thoughts to far away to realize her blood was being licked up by the child.
A monster was born.
When Zandora finally realized what was happening, it was too bizarre for her to possibly understand. She noticed something though, the child began to sprout color, her eyes starting to glow a beautiful purple. She didn't understand why, it couldn't be having to do with the blood. Zandora just figured it was just some instinctive trait, but the more and more she drank, the brighter and brighter the filly came. Zandora didn't dare turn her head to him, if he was still there, she didn't care either way, all that mattered to her now was that her child had escaped the clutches of death, and now she had been brought to mingle amongst the living. Zandora wasn't ready to be a mother, that she knew, but now, there was a certain light that bursted through all of her darkness. She was a mother.
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