"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.
06-13-2016, 07:17 PM (This post was last modified: 06-20-2016, 10:18 PM by Tai.)
TO LET MY HEART BE MOVED, TO LAUGH FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART, TO FIND MEANING IN EVERYDAY LIFE...
A captivated audience watches her, the pale girl in the middle of a sunrise, as she lays her past out before them. Skeletons worn on the outer edge of her skin instead of buried deep inside, Zyanya never held a secret. Honest to a fault, sincere without regard for her own preservation, a trusting girl in a world full of liars and cheats. Even when the girl had been nothing but a wallflower among the noble, many had lied to her and used her easy going sensibilities to climb closer to the chief of their realm.
Luck began to shine upon the lonesome girl in the forest, having met two amiable strangers with which to shoulder her burdens. The dangers of the world did not linger in the heart of her new company, as far as could be gathered. Instead, the pair remained silent and calm throughout the strangely innocent actions of the little lamb.
After the parade of her former horrors, the chocolate mare offers condolences in a soft voice. Zyanya smiles pleasantly to try to rid the feelings of sorrow from the hearts of this stranger, for that had not been the intention of telling her story. She had simply been answering a question. "Thank you," a warm appreciation of the kindness of a stranger in the forest.
Eyes begin to drift around her now, wondering if it would be possible to find her way to the North Haven by herself. Even from home, Zyanya never knew the route to the safe meadows of the north. Having spent very little time outside of the noblelands, the girl could not even find North if she had to. Hope of seeing her lost family dwindled, somewhere in her heart a sinking feeling welled, dark oceans filling the spaces left from the severing of their company. Home, where was that?
Ears tilt toward the pair once more as the maiden begins speaking, thoughts swerving from the wreckage of her former world back to reality. No sense in mourning more before this gentle mare, Zyanya had already exhausted the kindness of a stranger... or so she thought. Frost Fyre - a strange name befitting a strange world. The pastel hued girl listens, enthralled by the description of the Aurora Basin and the briefest mention of magic. In her home, tales of the ancestors spoke of unicorns holding mystical powers granted by the elements. Shrouded in mystery and guarded by the scholars of her land, the knowledge of magic became a legend told to children. An archaic time filled with glorious heroes and beautiful damsels, the fore fathers of a now mundane nation trapped in civil turmoil.
Come with me to the Basin, if you'd like. An invitation so unexpected, Zyanya could have been blown over by a slight breeze. Instead, a smile graces the gentle face of the pale maiden, her heart easy to read in her lilac eyes as excitement and wonder erases the former troubles from her mind. "Really? That would be wonderful!" Somewhere safe... the Aurora Basin. Maybe she was dreaming, for last night certainly felt like a nightmare.
"Oh..." the girl's training catches up with her. Standing tall for her small stature, the maiden tilts her head respectfully toward the ground. "How rude of me, I nearly forgot. I am Zya, short for Zyanya."
"I would be delighted to come to the... Aurora Basin."
...I wanted to be given permission.
Zyanya
Code:
<div style="width: 550px; height: 720px; background-color: #2B3439; margin: 0 auto;"><link href='https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Mrs+Saint+Delafield' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'>
<div style="width: 450px; height: 250px; margin-left: 50px;"><img src='http://images.helovia.net/index.php/view/5758a1a5024fa'></div>
<div style="width: 550px; height: 20px; background-color: #0C1011; margin: 0 auto;"><div style="width: 500px; height: 20px; font: normal 10px Garamond, serif; color:#C0CBCF; text-align: center; line-height:10px; margin-left:25px;">TO LET MY HEART BE MOVED, TO LAUGH FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART,<br> TO FIND MEANING IN EVERYDAY LIFE...</div>
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<div style="width: 500px; height: 400px; background-color: #fff; margin: 0 auto;"><div style="width: 480px; height: 375px; font: normal 12px calibri, sans-serif; color: #040507; text-align: justify; padding: 10px 10px 10px 10px; overflow-y: auto; margin: 0 auto;">Typing here
"<font color=#5F6879>Speaking</font>"
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<div style="width: 500px; height: 20px; font: normal 12px Garamond, serif; color: #C0CBCF; text-align: right; line-height:15px; letter-spacing: 2px; margin-right:25px;"><i>...I wanted to be given permission.</i></div>
<div style="width: 500px; height: 40px; font-family: 'Mrs Saint Delafield', cursive; font-size: 70px; color: #0C1011; text-align: left; line-height:20px; letter-spacing: 2px; margin-left:45px;">Zyanya</div>
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"<font color=#56E0BA>Speaking</font>"
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<div style="width: 502px; height: 20px; background-color:rgba(0,0,0,.9); margin: 0 auto;"><div style="width: 500px; height: 20px; font: normal 10px Times, serif; color:#17B6A1; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: center; line-height:10px; margin-left:25px;">We've made a fool out of love, when all we want is to be enough<br>when all we want is to feel enough</div>
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<div style="width: 500px; height: 40px; font-family: 'Allura', cursive; font-size: 70px; color: #56E0BA; text-align: left; line-height:20px; margin-left:35px;">Zyanya</div>
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<center><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/tittentem/">Image credit to Tor Even Mathisen at flickr.com</a></center>
07-12-2016, 12:43 PM (This post was last modified: 07-30-2016, 08:31 PM by Zyanya.)
I paced the places and the hallways where we'd meet
hoping one day you'd come my way and sweep me off my feet.
Summer came with a violent streak of heat, robbing the air of the refreshing touch of spring. Instead, the humidity clung to every branch, every leaf, every hair, every inch of skin. Under the branches of the trees, the sunlight which filters through sticks and grows, forcing a stuffy feeling within the green glow. However, Zyanya seems rather unaffected today, for her mind is elsewhere. While small hooves touch lightly upon the loam, head is floating easily in the clouds beyond the outstretched arms of the forest.
Summer back home had been the best season. The green which rushed in during spring grew more vibrant, the skies stretching above grew into a deeper blue, and the cool waters of the mountains were more refreshing. The young foals would frolic about in the warm air, laughter cascading from every inch of the valley. This year, summer feels out of place.
There is no familiar ringing of cherubic bells, no twinkling sound of the river, and, more than anything, no smiling faces of family. A distance grows within the soft heart of the girl, and she finds herself unwittingly seeking some familiarity.
It is for this reason, the heat of the sun dappling her skin is not felt. The sweat building along the graceful line of her body goes unnoticed, and the heavy damp air remains light. The serenity of the forest breaks suddenly, when the high pitched voice of what she thinks is a stallion echoes off the trunks of the trees. The words, frankly, make no sense to Zya, who cannot really grasp the concept of trees holding an aesthetic quality. If she could, even then, trees never decided where to grow or how - they simply did.
Her lavender eyes search between the trees to see the slender figure with massive horns sweeping back over a delicate frame. Approaching quietly, the girl seeks signs to clarify gender, seeing as the voice was of little help. Turns out, the figure before her is just as ambiguous. A beautiful picture the unicorn made, one of femininity, tall proportions, and immaculate shape. The tiny pale figure of Zyanya shrinks in comparison, a porcelain doll. "Hello," her voice rings out timidly, her small face upturned toward the stranger with a smile. "Have the trees offended you somehow?"
""
ooc -- do you want to be tagged? :)
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<div style="width: 780px; height: 800; background-image: url('https://s20.postimg.org/xqy1kon59/zyana.png'); background-repeat: no-repeat; background-position: right top; padding-top: 230px; margin: 0 auto;">
<div style="width: 402px; height: 17px; background: #5CA5A4; color: #000; font: normal 10px times, serif; line-height: 9px; align: left; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase;">I paced the places and the hallways where we'd meet
hoping one day you'd come my way and sweep me off my feet.</div>
<div style="width: 400px; height: 530px; background: rgba(177, 214, 214, .8); border: 1px solid #5CA5A4; overflow-y: auto; margin: 0px 200px 50px 50px;"><div style="color: #000; font: normal 13px calibri, sans serif; line-height: 14px; text-align: justify; padding: 5px; margin 0 auto;">Words
Receive the erased memories
And broken heart on the palm of my hand.
I am used to the heat.
Therefore, the oppressive sun of the summer does not much affect me. Sweat clings to my build, along with dirt and grime from my travels. The bandage carefully applied by the rather pointed stallion named Seanan remains upon my shoulder, as if applied by magic instead of some homemade poultice remedy. The large leaves cover the gash which plagues my side, and his washing of my wound left little remanants of dried blood on my white leg.
With the infection in my body steadily receding, my fevers have disappeared, and with them, she has left me once more. While my conscious brain is very relieved I am no longer seeing ghosts, something in my heart lurches in her absence, like an old reflex that refuses to die. I am better off forgetting her. Leaving her silent in her grave in my memory.
She would be better off without ever having met me.
You can still tell, if you look close enough, that I had basically bathed myself in my own lifeblood. It's not as apparent, and the stench of rot no longer radiates from my body like a corpse. Instead, I simply look like a dirty miscreant.
Which, I suppose, is an accurate enough description of me.
After I left the side of Seanan and Ashamin, I traveled south for a while, following the water of the strange crimson river, finding myself in a strange forest plagued by a maze of pathways that make little sense. I assume during a more moist season, the greenery here would be quiet impressive and enough to block visions through the strange compartmentalized areas of the swampy land. Instead, I can see through the stalk-like trees, see the dried grasses amid the waters.
A great boon, I think, that the raging fires of the sun have robbed this land of such potential to be a nuisance.
A smirk draws a thin line on my face as I think this, but my luck almost always runs thin all too quickly. I am sure, as soon as I begin to feel quite pleased with myself, life would come out of the woods and bite me in the ass... and I do not mean that figuratively. I do expect something to literally bite me in the ass.
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