"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.
I slog silent miles through that barren landscape, floating beneath the shrouded sun much like the ghostly tendrils that skim my neck. I’d convinced myself many miles and hours back that these frozen mounds are somehow familiar; but the secret truth was, there is no way I could have known. Not when almost two years of violent weather had altered their shape and texture. Two years. A callous smile creases the corner of my face as if the admission is humorous; two years. Two lonely, fruitless little years. Thankfully there was nobody around to enjoy my senseless, soundless giggling. This mind scatters like the snow on breast of these foothills. I feel aloof and disjointed. Perhaps it was a result of being travel weary to the point of incoherent; or perhaps I’m too dead on the inside to care. I no longer feel the near constant wind that snaps my body like a lash, or the dusting of white powder that clings to every exposed hair. The over-bright terrain of endless white gives nothing to break the dull strain which tugs me beneath the foamy ocean of depression.
My mind wanders aimlessly, spacing out enough to forget to avoid the topics that give me pain. For years I’ve searched for a ghost whose trail had run cold early on – at any point I could have turned around and come back. But I hadn’t. Call it bull headed, stubborn…stupid…I’d flat out refused to give up. For what? Sore feet and a trodden mind? Sure there had been points of ecstasy…a high…I’d seen distant lands that once stirred me with glee. An adolescent on the cusp of womanhood had left Helovia –returning as a sour adult seems a fitting punishment. Corroded memories slide over me; dim faces bring no warmth considering I’d never spent time getting to know them. When at last I’d walked north as far as the chilling ocean would allow, my steps turn west…and by then the sun has begun to sink.
Kitty doesn't wait long. He's going to keep moving, because a stallion as important as he does not stand idle for the masses. He takes delicate steps forward and his legs--long and graceful--cut through the warmth until the sky goes black and the air stings cold. Everything is unfamiliar to you but he moves through this new world as if it is his by some divine right, or at least as if he's seen it before in some dream. You long to sink your fingers into that realm of his innermost knowing, to see the things he sees when the night comes, but you simply aren't made of the right stuff. Compared to Kitty, no one is.
If he weren't so damnably charming, so devastatingly perfect, you might suspect he wandered the wrong way. Here in the North Birdsong's beauty fades into bitterness and the cold is as uninviting as Kitty's red stare in the face of complication. But he doesn't have that look now, doesn't seem perturbed in the slightest. No, Kitty seems confident to the point where it's contagious, and you find yourself nodding your head slowly as you watch him press hooves into ice. He's moving through that pale and unloving wind at a pace first slow and then consciously quickened. He sees something you don't see. Isn't that always the way?
But after a moment or two you catch sight of what he already knew: a mare, deep purple and trailed by the blue offspring of fire. Does he know her name already? Has he met her before, in some past life, and failed to mention her to you? He picks up speed again until he's cantering, his silken mane flying behind him as he arcs against the wind. From far away, you watch his dorsal stripe and the line of hoofprints that he etches in the snow and note the half-moon shape of his approach. From farther you hear his voice, loud despite the distance: "Good evening, night stranger."
Same. Also, good to see you around again. :) Would you prefer to be tagged @Sielu?
(Don't tag me, just poke me on skype.)
A golden horizon fades into a pale shade of coal as another icy blast of wind races across the countryside and stirs a great calamity into motion. Like a frosty sea, foaming at the mouth. That blank canvas of endless nothingness had long since become an eyesore to me. An emptiness that seems fitting for my delirious mood -- yet it also makes me quake with solid vulnerability. I can't help but cower in the face of isolation. What a cruel world, with cruel people. Here on these battered mounds there is no shelter I can find comfort within, or warm delights for my cold belly. This was a hard, empty place; full of lost dreams. Intelligent souls would argue that foreigners of reasonable sanity shouldn't have a reason to venture into this unforgiving land.
Sanity is obviously lost to me.
I mindlessly swallow a soundless groan and suck another lungful of that thin air; all the while stubbornly following a footpath of my own demise. These cool heels rise and fall...rise and fall... their endless, melancholy rhythm is nothing but flawless. As if there was some real purpose to my wandering. Behind me, the undertow of ash is whisked by a near constant current -- the biting breeze erases any mark of my presence upon the ground. I'm like a true ghost. Only made flesh by a body that moans it's resentment. Even with hard muscles that have grown accustomed to travel...the core is sick of only existing.
Walking.
I'm lonely.
But not alone...
A life of forced silence has made me an excellent listener. So even when I'm distracted by a vortex of scattered muse -- as the stranger draws near...I hear...no...sense the weight of his girth disrupting that faded row. His heavy body; larger than mine even in it's prime. The threads along my thighs stiffen uncertainty, and both ears slice back warily against the roof of my head. They hear his drum quicken, it thunders into the earth as if a foe had come racing from behind. I twist right to look back, quivering with anticipation of his approach or the threat that may follow. As he comes into view, boldly stamping his mark into the earth - I freeze in place, though the taunting smoke around my neck and rump still dances and twirls at random.
...just a man...
My physical self turns into him, even while I’m combating the sudden urge to jerk away. He wouldn't offer me a quick escape…instead the male spoke. To me. When was the last time I sampled a warm word? My jaw loosens as if to form a reply, but of course nothing can come forth except the smog within me. Eyelids slide shut, they flutter open a heartbeat later with glinting resolve. Beneath hooded eyes I wittingly attempt to reach for his mind, fusing my conscious ideals and words with him. Dual gems flicker across his brow, sinking to the darkened pools below – this man is the polar opposite of me. He radiates health and confidence; whereas mine is lean and poorly maintained on both fronts.
"Same to you," an attempt at warmth, but my tone simply lacks any real attachment or vibrancy. The raw stew of negativity and pain seeps over the brim, possibly dunking him in all its glorious disjointedness. The corners of my temple pinches together as I struggle to control myself. It has been so long since I'd spoke. "In a hurry to somewhere important?" The question is soft and nonthreatening, melting like the snow on our bodies. I pull away, saving my energy for reattachment rather than struggle to maintain the connection.
OCC: So sorry I've been gone for so long T-T! I'm back now! AND yes...if your interested please tag me.