"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.
all of the jewels in the crown would never make you happy,
but damn,
they're worth trying
Fatigue settles in her bones as the shadows lengthen, drawing thick bodies into slender, long and narrow masses that catch and mingle within one another, fading with the hours of time. Snow has caught itself up in the tangled mess of golden strands, cradled in curls that barely hold themselves into place, hanging with their fingers lazily strung into the body of gold. They drape their wounded and broken bodies across her lovely back, wanting to so desperately kiss the skin buried beneath a winter coat that is quite possibly too thick for this winter.
Her travels were forced southbound, moving away from things, listening to the sounds of birds and other animals change as she fled a home that couldn’t possibly define itself as home anymore. Back there, she had been a thing of beauty, a symbol of whatever people could make those with blood made of hope that was forced into the veins, never by choice but need, never stopping to think that of what was the brain of such people.
She claimed herself better than them, better than all of their naive minds and worthless hopes, looking for something greater, and here it had gone ahead and blown up in her face. She walks alone, bringing shallow but quick breaths from her nostrils with name sake know living up to what it is meant to be, carrying the guilt of all the souls that she has ruined.
Winter birds mock her as she stops, dragging the remains of her beauty behind her, tail knotted and mane threatening her with dreadlocks. Her forelock doesn’t even move with the same grace that it had once done in the past as her crown moves, small, delicate ears twirling as if they dance when she tries to find the silence, wishing for once that there would more silence in the woods that are now bathing themselves in the dying orange hues of sunset, descending to the lightly blanketed ground as it gripped wispy fingers over dead, empty black branches that reach for the sky like desperate fingers.
A stamp hushes the birds only briefly, listening with ears held as far forward as they will allow themselves to go their laughter turns to cries of terror and fear, abandoning the dirty and worn mare until she is left to stand alone in her small opening in the trees, leaving her with her thoughts that tell her it’s time to keep moving and to not look back.
OOC: Asking to just keep it as her and @Colt for plot reasons.
Colt had left the children in the hands of the trees, entrusting the pines to their safety. She trusted their judgement, knowing that although young they were smart. They wouldn't do anything she didn't approve of, not when she had already beaten them (how many times again?) for wandering without her permission. So she left them, assuming they could handle themselves and if they couldn't— well wasn't that what this cursed uterus of hers was for? Just producing more children at the disposal of men (and herself).
She left them, and wandered east to the familiar territory of the Threshold. How unlucky she was here, only ever happening upon one lone equine who suited her standards. And she hadn't heard from him in months (the bastard), assuming he hadn't been able to hold his own against the antlered woman who'd stolen him. She dropped the possibility of his return when the marker passed two weeks, and lost any hope of seeing his ebony figure return to her sights. Instead she traversed the threshold in a desperate search to find an equine that wasn't kissing the hooves of scum and didn't look as frail as a hundred year old mare.
Today just happened to be her lucky day, for in her eyes— gold. Colt's ears immediately shoot forward, spotting potential in the orange bathed mistress before her. She struts her way towards the woman, steel sights set on her target. The condition of her ivory hair makes Colt internally cringe, but she's drawn to the sleek body and her eyes dare not leave it. She averts her eyes to the violets frames by gold and white, alight from the coming dusk.
She smiles, sweetly— falsely. "Sister—" She preaches, reaching out an unseen hand for the battered woman to take hold of. "You look tired from your travels." Colt's eyes follow the lines, the curvature, the muscle. Colt could admire the female body, particularly more so than the male counterpart. Even in Volterra's sister she saw promise of sin and hushed rooms, silenced by the awe of such a striking creature. Women held more beauty, more potential for admiration and appreciation. She could lust after a woman all her life, basking in their vibrance like each was her own goddess, powerful and graceful with daunting curvature and softened features. This mare in particular, she was carved from pure gold and even though her hair fell in dreaded tangles one could see the potential beauty in the creamy curls. She had frosted patches along her skin, speckled with spots and dappled along her shoulders.
Colt would have her.
"TALK TALK TALK"
-- an appropriate table with an appropriate quote c":
SETTING MY SIGHTS ON YOU
The Equine Empire wants YOU! Assuming you refers to an equine.
Join the movement.
Tag me only if starting a new thread.
Magic or force permitted any time, aside from death.
all of the jewels in the crown would never make you happy,
but damn,
they're worth trying
She shouldn’t wish for things. Just as the quiet begins to settle it’s scared and trembling fingers
into the palm of Night’s hand, preparing to take it for a dance, she finds herself the victim of her own fears, ripping it away and fleeing, bolting from a possible mistake. The Valkyrie’s skin leaps atop her bones and shakes below the mass of her winter coat. You are not alone is what the world is now whispering within her small ears, repeating itself time and time again. Branches snap in the shadows and forms, or a form moves about in the skeletons of dead trees.
Companionship is nice for a night, but she is not to trust so easily. It might be one of them, or an assassin, one that sees something held to her head that she does not. There’s eyes clung to her body and tension kissing every breath she takes before she breathes it in, rubbing cold and bony fingers against her rib cage so that when she drags it down to the depths of her lungs she’ll be forced to know that it’s so thickly there.
Eye contact is briefly made, and Walkure crown-like skull rises upwards and levels out, looking down upon a mare that makes the insides of her chest twist. Amatersu, is that you? Oh, how you’ve gotten smaller.
‘Sister….’
This strikes a cord. She is a general, a woman of power, a woman who could crush this puny being into the ground with her armies and then later forget because how many others have you done that to in the past?, and she remembers that this is a place that doesn’t whisper her name with either hatred or admiration. To this mare, she is nothing but a small statue of gold with snow and looking like no one wishes to care for her anymore.
Once a jewel, now nothing more than a stepping stone towards islands hidden in thick fog.
Ears draw back as she thinks, closing away violet eyes so that this mare can no longer have the grace of looking into them. “We are not sisters.” Harshness rules over her voice when it spoken in what is meant to come as a relaxed tone, instead slipping free with a soft care and bladed edges. “And we will never be, so do not call me so.” A snort flutters out with a chuckle from her, now slowly opening her eyes to watch the reaction of the mare. Naive. “What is it that you want from me?” Paranoia slams dirty, bloodied jaws against her lips and works it’s way into her mouth, reminding her that is acceptable to all sorts of punishments. That instead of being but another stranger, is she eternally subject to her actions, forced to suffer till the day she dies.
Oh, what a way to live.
She's noticed Colt, swept over by lavender eyes and inspected. Colt feels needles waltz up her spine in an unfamiliar dance, her own sights resting on the face of the mare as her smile falls after her first word. She lets her features fall flat, her ears at ease atop her head and her eyes becoming critical in the observation of movements. Every breath is counted by her, every twitch of the whiskers, every movement of a gnarled curl— she catches it all. Eventually Colt eases back into seriousness, looking at the mare and expecting a response from her. It wasn't instantaneous, nor was it polite. Colt shrugged it off, rather liking the idea of the beauty biting back. She listened to her sharp words with interest, not bothering to react to the way the mare had snapped so easy. Colt liked the temper.
She almost feels— sad when the mare closes her eyes. She wants her to open them again, to see what power lies before her, what offer stands at her feet. Colt wanted to be acknowledged and admired, wanted the woman to notice the strength rippling beneath her faded brass hide.
"I'm merely here to offer you a place to stay—" Colt lets her eyes wander, drinking up the luscious curves presented to her. She kept from her licking her lips, not wanting too seem predatory in the way she in turn admired this poisonous woman. "What shall I call you then? Hmm?" She lets her words roll from her tongue, smooth and without fault, without emotion. Perhaps if one listened hard enough they'd find undertones of unfamiliar playfulness, but no one ever bothers to listen so closely. "You may call me Colt." She offers a prideful smirk, perhaps a quick half lidded gaze drawn out in hopes the woman would catch her implications.
Colt never thought it odd her name was such, but maybe once upon a time she had. She'd long since forgotten the name originally given to her, sometimes even forgot her name has been anything but Colt. Her father imprinted it into her mind, made it clear that bearing this name meant bearing his disappointment and frustrations with her unintentional weakness. He beat it into her and out of her, she watched helplessly as he broke her down and built her up just the way he wanted— and it all revolved around her name and his dreams of having a son. It was like some crude joke, and she shouldered it pitifully for the rest of her life.
The shitty names ran in the family, she supposed (Just look at her son, Kid).
"TALK TALK TALK"
SETTING MY SIGHTS ON YOU
The Equine Empire wants YOU! Assuming you refers to an equine.
Join the movement.
Tag me only if starting a new thread.
Magic or force permitted any time, aside from death.
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![[Image: 5518a658038f0]](http://images.helovia.net/index.php/view/5518a658038f0)
