"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.
Clipped wings, I was a broken thing || Had a voice, had a voice but I could not sing
Rasta wasn’t quite certain how well this situation would go. After all, she was about a season late on her promise to Cera. Give her till the middle of Orangemoon. Yes. That was when she had said. Now, though, it was almost the middle of Frostfall, and she was only just beginning to come up to the border which Gaucho had told her he had blown up so many seasons back. At the time, she had thought him to be kidding, but he had said he would do it for the protection of the herd. And, well, to be honest, not allowing those without wings in (without, what she assumed had to be some secret passageway somewhere) would be one of the best ways to do it.
Ettore flashed an image of the now-isolated-Throat to Rasta as she pulled up to the water’s edge. Her hooves rested against the chilly waters, but she didn’t dare to step into them. Not only did she not know just how cold it could get, but the deepness was most certainly in question. So, she allowed herself to wait there in the midday sun as Ettore flew across the border to try and see if he could spot Cera nearby. He dare not fly too far within the herd lands, but on the off chance that he could find the painted stag just within he knew that his presence would be the most reassuring for Rasta. Of course, she didn’t know how well Gaucho would take to welcoming her back. She had spoken out against him in the past, but now… now she just wanted a home. This… this herd land, it was the closest place that she could think of finding one anymore.
She's going to switch herds, if she is allowed to join ^^ - @Cera
Gwaihir spotted the hawk with sharp golden eyes and made a bee line for the intruder. Coming from above he dived towards the smaller bird with and angry screech in a purely territorial display. Though he did not extend his talons to try and snatch the hawk out of the air he let them flash in clear warning. Grumpy and intolerant at the best of times, the eagle was ready to take advantage to press his dominance and push out interlopers. The resident zephyrs of the Dragon’s Throat received some measure of deference but only grudgingly and he did not afford any license into his airspace to thus unknown flyer.
As he made to loop around the bird and drive him from the island’s airspace, he alerted his Meg to another unrecognized figure on the horizon. If her companion wanted to throw his weight around that was one thing but that news demanded her attention. With a huff, she bid goodbye to her daughter Asavvi and took off, following the eagle across the stretch of water.
He might not have recognised the mare that waited of the shore, but she certainly did and not with any particularly fond memories. The bay landed on the wash of sand while wondering on earth this visitor was doing here. In their extraordinarily brief meeting Meg had thought Rasta infuriating, but on a new examination of the day she could admit [grudgingly] that she her had been a bit abrasive and rude herself.
The Sultana came to a halt in front of the mare, folding her wings somewhat stiffly. She tried to remind herself that she wasn’t a soldier anymore, and had to comport herself accordingly and so, gracias as Meg could be, she eyed the mare questioningly. “Rasta, isn’t it? Is there some sort of trouble in the Hidden Falls?”
02-21-2016, 11:58 PM (This post was last modified: 02-22-2016, 01:26 AM by Cera.)
Cera Whatever you put me through, I'll come out alive
Cera had spotted Megaera and Asavvi not far from the borders he had been patrolling and had hurried to accompany her, excitement blooming like a desert flower in his heart. He had much to tell her - about the phoenix, and his own recent growth, and Rasta. She was one of his dearest friends, and while it was clear that she missed Hector as much as he did, sometimes he consoled himself with the fact that she remained. Steadfast, loving. He would die for her, he knew with certainty. Whether she was aware of that devotion did not matter, he would never burden her with that confession. But he would give every ounce of blood in his body to spare her having to lose a drop, for she was precious to him. Cera's strength and fortitude were born of love, and were sustained as well by it.
What he had not expected was the clash of two of those loves.
Ilaria is sitting backwards on his hindquarters, and it is she who sees the errant bird in the sky and finally recognizes it just as another violently joins it. RASTA! Ilaria screeches in Cera's head, and the boy about-faces so quickly the panda is nearly dislodged from her precarious position. Gwaihir's attack is a distant flash against his eyes, and Cera is bellowing wordlessly in abject disapproval, wings snapping loudly in the air as he twists and cajoles the winds beneath his banners to sweep him into the skies. He lets the wind carry him, light and expedient upon their zephyrs as his heart races. If anything happened to Ettore...on the opposite side of the ocean outside of the herdlands, he recognizes a pale golden form. Megaera arrives before him, but Cera's heart is racing in anger. He is her friend, and while he loves her, he will not excuse her violence.
He purposefully lands in the shallows, the cold shocking up his legs to try and steady the fury of his heart. Striding up onto the beach he snaps his wings and levels a nasty, disapproving face at Megaera. "Is that how we welcome peaceful visitors, Megaera? By having our companions violently approach them when they are barely in the herdlands? How many times are flighted companions used to signal a flightless newcomer on the shores?" It is snapped abrasively, uncommon for the soft-spoken and kindly Prince, and even Ilaria is leveling a disgusted look towards Gwaihir for the moment. But his hackles are raised and he is deeply disappointed in the mare beside him, though his love for her will never weaken. "If she was an ambassador, she could easily take offense. Companions are precious," Cera practically growled, for he was one of the few to mildly agree with Ampere and her crusade. They were individuals, beloved. And Gwaihir had threatened one of them in an unnecessary display of brutality that Cera did not want the Throat to stand for.
Green eyes shuttered and he took a deep breath, turning to Rasta once his heartbeat was level. He puffed out to signal is approach before reaching to tap briefly against her muzzle - brief, for he suspected he knew why she was here, and his heart was soaring. "I extended an invitation to her, so that she may leave the Falls and return to the Throat to be judged to possibly rejoin. I believe by your presence, you are here with the desire to become family once more?" Cera couldn't help the hopeful tilt of his voice, though the very beginning of his words made it subtly clear to Megaera that he was the one to have orchestrated this in a way. He would not apologize for his views on Megaera's actions, but the wing closest to the Sultana shuffled to a more open pose in a natural body language that spoke of comfort and ease. His eyes flitted to her, a little shy. He hoped she would not be too cross with him - the fact that it was Rasta did not matter to Cera, he wouldn't ever want a companion to feel frightened or attacked at their borders if they were coming peacefully.
He did not want to choose between them, and he hoped they would not make him.
- - -
Angry!Cera lasts about two seconds but IT'S SO RARE LET ME APPRECIATE IT OKAY ;A;
Clipped wings, I was a broken thing || Had a voice, had a voice but I could not sing
Okay, so maybe sending Ettore in wasn’t the best of ideas. Still, he hadn’t ventured very far into the borders either – not wanting to press into the herd lands and make Rasta appear to be a violent threat. No, he had only wanted to grab Cera’s attention (as had Rasta). So, when the hawk was met with a sharp dive and a loud screech he tried to bank away – only to see the flashing of talons. ”HE JUST TRIED TO SLICE ME AND EAT ME!” Ettore huffed through the bond, eyes narrowing uncertainly at the eagle before instantly moving back toward Rasta and giving up on his plan of searching out Cera. Though, it seemed that simply by getting (almost) into a cat fight with another bird that he had done just that.
Megaera appeared before Rasta, thought it had taken the blind mare a moment to understand that it was in fact the warrior of the Throat who landed before her. Staggering backward and flicking her tail, she finally built up the image of the winged mare, who had her wings folded in a more tense manner (at least Rasta assumed it was). The mare recalled her name and Rasta managed a, ”Yes, Rasta is correct. I- well. No. I don’t believe the Falls are… uh, not in the last few weeks it took me to get here at least…” Aye, she had taken her time. She hadn’t wanted to get lost… and she hadn’t wanted to get kidnapped again as she had before.
The name which had evaded her from her moment of shock was filled in quickly when Cera arrived not moments later. The sound of hooves in water alerted her to his landing as Ettore instantly shot to the stag’s side. Apparently he was safer than his own bonded was in this pairing of equine creatures. Cera seemed to chastise the mare, and Rasta could only assume that Megaera might even be a lower rank than her crafter friend.
Rasta heard a deep breath, and then a puff before his muzzle briefly pressed against her own. A gentle smile curved the edge of her maw (faint unless one knew her). Cera explained her purpose for her and she nodded her head in agreement. ”I am, if you all will have me…” she said, ears falling a bit lopsided as she looked back toward Megaera. Yeah, more people that she was certain to have pissed off at some point. Hah. Who would want her to join when all she has done is anger those of this family on accident.
If they didn’t want to have her… well she supposed she’d just crawl back to the Falls… do her best to try and help as she could. Do her best to try and find that family.
02-22-2016, 11:24 AM (This post was last modified: 02-22-2016, 12:12 PM by Odd.)
It was Vorsa, scouting ahead as she was want to do these days, who heard the disgruntled screeches of the birds. Immediately - as both Gwahir and Etoire did - Vorsa sent the information spiralling back to Gaucho who, like Meg, immediately descended from his lofty patrol.
As soon as his steely gaze fell upon the trio below, he frowned. Why Rasta here? He rumbled silently to himself, banking and allowing himself to swiftly sink lower towards the bloody sands and the assembled group.
Rasta had never been overly pleasant to Gaucho. At nearly every herd meeting she voiced her dissidence and disdain seemingly without a filter. She had openly rebuked Midas’ decision to name him lead all those long seasons ago, and her doubtfulness of Gaucho’s leadership had only grown. He hadn’t been surprised when she had abandoned her throat-family to go to the Falls, but he had been disappointed. The blind mare had never been one of his favourites, but he had sworn an oath to the Throat, and the loss of her presence within their ranks had been felt by the dun. Even so, he didn’t take abandonment lightly.
But that had just been her interactions with him. Not to mention her rudeness when Meg had visited the Falls looking for news of Sohalia, and her conflicts with other members of the herd.
So Gaucho was fully taken aback when he heard that the mare wanted to join them. Even more so to learn that Cera had played some part in it.
Keeping his thoughts veiled behind his stoic albeit exaggeratedly primitive features, Gaucho landed. He nodded his antlered skull decisively to Meg first, and then to Cera. His flaming wings tucked themselves neatly against his flanks, allowing Versa to land upon one of them, her burning orangey-red body adding to the flames which constantly burned there.
“Rasta.” His voice was polite, but distant. He hadn’t forgotten the one pleasant conversation they had had - all those long seasons ago about Sohalia - but even when Rasta was trying to appear helpful, she was still quite curt. And even so, one conversation without incident did not erase from his mind all of the other ones which had ended with trouble.
“You member of Throat once. You condemn Gaucho’s leadership then. Argue at every herd meeting, then abandon Throat. You show disrespect to Throat’s leaders - to Gaucho -“ He paused and nosed towards Meg, “to Megaera.” His voice was not necessarily judgemental or angry; he stated the facts as clearly as he saw them. Not that he thought Rasta particularly owed any of them an apology - if her station in life was to be a mocking, unhelpful voice at all times, then so be it. Gaucho didn’t care. But nor was he required to welcome her back into their family.
If the blind mare staggered back from her approach, Meg took little pity on her. It was certainly not usual for the Sunspear to be so callous to anyone, let alone one so obviously unmatched with her physically, but the spitfire sultana was not one to forgive a slight either. Her eyes narrowed, cutting daggers the blind mare wouldn’t see as Rasta all but stammered out a response. Her words didn’t make sense and the bay gave an angry snort of frustration. Why had she come if the leaders of the Falls had not sent her with news? Not that they should have sent her but perhaps some tragedy had befallen the eastern herd an the blind one was the only one to be sparred.
Before Megaera could begin an agitated interrogation a splash from behind pulled her head around to see Cera landing. She might have smiled and the arrival of her friend, she certainly started to, but Cera’s anger wiped the grin off her face in an instant. He chastises her, scolds her her and the shock of it leaves her momentarily wide eyed and speechless.
On one hand it’s Cera, her dear friend, whom she had never before herd him raise his voice in anger. The look he casts her is baffling, that nasty disapproval for something she would not have considered wrong, and the fact that it comes from him makes her stomach turn. It seems tantamount to a betrayal, that he would pick this bitch-faced stranger over her, that he would accuse her of being unjust where she would have thought herself justified. Just his look is enough to harden little pit of shame in her stomach. On the other hand, it’s her Crafter, lecturing the Sultana like a newborn child in front of an outsider; dissection in the ranks for all of Helovia to see. How was she supposed to rule if her name could not command a level of respect at home and abroad. His attitude, his presumption is enough to rake deep, angry furrows in her pride.
The dichotomy of bad feelings triggered by one she loved so well painted a severe look of incredulity on her face, wide eyed and ears tilting backward towards he neck. “Gwaihir is not my puppet to command. He will do as he sees fit. As for visitors I would think it was for the Sultana to decide how they should be greeted, and I would show them every courtesy that they gave me.” The harsh snap in Meg’s voice was something she fervently wished never to unleash at Cera again; to pull rank like that even to nurse a bruised ego left a foul taste in her mouth. She bit her tongue before she could throw anything else out in haste.
She took a deep breath, trying to calm her rattled nerves but before she could truly succeed, Cera was reaching for Rasta. Black eyes narrowed, focusing on the small touch with a flare of jealousy that she knew was quite unbecoming for a grown woman and so she shut her eyes to it, however briefly. You’re supposed to be my friend! Mine, not hers! It was childish, but it still echoed in her mind as she tried to at least act with the decorum her rank required. She was the Sultana, god damn it!
Megaera managed to build up a mask of not-so-mild, proud-as-fuck, resting bitchface, and at least she stopped herself from spewing a temper-induced stream of curses at Cera that knew definitely would have regretted later. She listened as the Golden Prince accounted for the mare’s presence at their doorstep and her brown furrowed with obvious skepticism when the mare (so strangely more timid that Meg remembered her) added her two cents.
Gaucho arrived before she could reply and Megaera returned his dignified nod. It seemed he had a knack for showing up just in time, to pull her back from the brink of temper, to remind her to be better; his fire always there to temper her fury. She watched him for a moment a moment, letting his stoic presence calm her, taking several deep breaths before turning back towards Rasta and Cera.
She had not remembered Rasta from the time before the Wraiths plagued Helovia, having only been a member of the herd a short time before the land was plunged into upheaval. The fact that the mare had opposed Gaucho’s leadership was a new nugget of knowledge and, as far as the aggressively loyal Meg was concerned, a blazing black mark on her record. The Sultana did not speak. She was calmer now, ready to accept that Cera might have a history that she could not infringe upon but wholly unconvinced that she should take the outsider into her good graces.
"." ooc:: -cries and pushes Meg and Cera together- “Now hug it out! You love eachother"
Cera Whatever you put me through, I'll come out alive
Megaera's anger does not sway him, and the Prince stands firm, his expression of disappointment firm upon his face. He loves her, and he is comfortable and confident in that love. Sometimes you hurt and berate those you love, and Cera has felt the sting of passionate, faithful love so many times in his young life. So he does not back down, not when he knows she is wrong. "Of course he's not your puppet," and the horror and disgust creeps into his voice at the mere notion, and a little hurt that Megaera thought he would ever insinuate she was Gwaihir's controller. "But you are his sister, or mother, or however your bond orchestrates itself. So teach him that it's wrong. What if it had been a lead's companion? If he had done that to Fina while Midas lived and led the Falls?" His voice has softened a little after his first surge of righteous anger. It's not that it's Rasta. Can't you see? That she pulls the rank card on him makes him flinch a little, but it doens't matter. It doesn't. I've lived on these sands my whole life, Megaera. I have more right here than you do, in some ways. But it is a vile thought, and he will not speak it.
"You are more than within your rights, but you didn't even see her before the incident," Cera noted, pointing out the flaw in her argument. At least Rasta was a distraction, her muzzle soft against him in contrast to Ettore's sharp claws on his withers that he welcomed easily. But he removed himself from her touch rather quickly in comparison to their normal interactions. This was not his battle to be waged, nor his decision to be made. Cera had given her an invitation, but that was all he had in his power to give. Rasta had to fight this battle herself, and Cera would not contest the answer handed down by his leaders, even if it would break his heart to not have her return home. He stepped back and away from the blind mare as she spoke, eyeing Megaera quietly from the side of his eye. He wanted to speak with her, felt regret for doing so in front of company and undermining her authority, but he would not stand for such violent actions against a companion. They were precious, and he was more disappointed in Gwaihir than anything. I just want you safe, Megaera. Why don't you see that? If it had been a lead you would hate yourself forever for giving the Throat a bad name. I know you would. But he did not try to correct or dissuade her anger against him.
They would overcome it. Cera knew they were strong enough for that.
Gaucho comes on a blaze of fire, and Cera can only glance at him for but a moment before a swell of conflicting emotion tries to choke him. He returned the nod gratefully, a small smile playing on his lips at seeing his Sultan after so long. He didn't abandon you, Ilaria said softly, aware of where his heart was leading him. Cera sighed softly as he settled back, hocks cooling in the water. You don't have to leave to abandon someone. Ilaria just sighed.
For once mildly grateful for Rasta's blindness, Cera turned sad doe eyes towards Megaera for a moment, wing extending hesitantly, asking for forgiveness silently. Or at least a reprieve, something to tell him that she in any way understood where he was coming from. That this wasn't an attack against her, but a defense. To keep her safe from a potentially fatal mistake in the threads of diplomacy. I love you, and because I love you, sometimes I have to do what's best for you. Shame and humiliation before others...it is a good motivator.
Cera turned his head to tune back into Gaucho, whether Megaera reached out to touch him back or not. He didn't contest a single word, in fact standing rather awkwardly cushioned between the two he loved so dearly. If Gaucho turned Rasta away, well...it was not Cera's decision from here, and he didn't mind that so much. He trusted Gaucho and Megaera with his life and the lives of the Throat denizens.
He'd done the best he could on Rasta's behalf. The rest was her fight.
- - -
-also shoves Meg and Cera together crying-
posting this now because I know I'm going to forget this thread really easily otherwise
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