"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.
"The word of the day is potential," murmured the horned beast to himself as his hooves pressed delicately against the dry earth. Opal eyes roved the vast forest, noting the overgrown greenery that covered the floor, the trees, the boulders, the everything. The sun was a few widths from having it's lowest rim graze the horizon, supposed the lithe stallion, and it had dipped the treetops in liquid gold. Skyfall's lips had parted in awe of the architectural feats so casually put on display by nature here in this vast oasis, his pupil-less eyes darting from one shadowed alcove to another without pause.
Despite his obvious admiration, the horned creature couldn't help but notice the few shortcomings of the endless forest. He huffed, awe and calculation fighting to win over his expression; where was the color? The wind chimes? The imagery, the feel, the luxury that so clearly belonged in this ancient and regal wood. The gardens just outside the realm of possibility were filled to bursting with lovely blossoms and beautiful hues, but alas, it was rare that Skyfall's reality could meld all that well with his fantasy. A half frown found a home upon the stallion's dark lips as he pranced closer to the heart of the forest, noting how there still seemed to be no hint of actual equine life about him.
With a vaguely annoyed grunt, the feminine gentleman slowed to a stop and stomped a single shining hoof.
"No respect, big tree friends! No respect for aesthetic."
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? :)
even if you're lost you can't lose the love because
it's in your heart
Magic & Force allowed, barring permanent changes or death.
Opal eyes aimed up, up, up, into the boughs and branches, the bloody bay stallion didn't notice the approach of the mare. No, his lips remained pursed and his mind remained stuck on the endless possibilities for design. So, as the lovely porcelain mare's voice pressed through the silence and wound about Skyfall's ear, the lithe rogue started in surprise. "Oh!" An exclamation slipped from between dark lips before his gaze settled upon the dame.
A beat of silence passed as he took the girl in, her darling horn, the cool gradient of cream and turquoise topped off with the softest lavender eyes he had ever seen. "Oh!" He exclaimed once more, a delighted smile overtaking his handsome features and causing pale eyes to twinkle merrily, "Hello there, you lovely lamb!" With one more glance up to the treetops, Skyfall gave the mare a wink and shrugged his shapely shoulders the best he could, "Not particularly, I just tend to talk out loud when I'm lonely. They could have a little bit more of a glamorous effect, but the subtle majesty fits them just fine. Now," His expression was warm and full of welcome as he took a few steps closer to the darling stranger, "My name is Skyfall, do you think you could tell me where on earth I am?"
Eyes politely appraised the horned lass, appreciation for her unique set of beautiful assets blossoming within his belly. He could see it now, in his mind's eye, the way he could design a wardrobe for her. Light colored gossamer wraps, the most delicate of silver chains trickling down her sides like water. Aquamarine and Opalite, Blue Lace Agate and turquoise gems sewn like teardrops into veils and gowns, soldered into horn and hoof casings. He sighed wistfully, the imagery - even if it was only in his head - was simply breathtaking.
He needed to find out where she was from and he needed to learn how to make his heart's desire happen.
The sheer height of the trees in the Threshold have held Duir mesmerized since we arrived; even now, he’s walking with his eyes cast upward, the intricate shapes of sunlight trickling across his face, the thin ribbons of gold and bronze within his growing antlers glinting. I find that I enjoy walking in silence with him more than I’ve enjoyed just about anything in my life, and though he does occasionally demand ridiculous games of me, we’re most often found just like this. I don’t even mind where we are, because he’s so intrigued. His light heartedness combats my ill mood at being so regrettably hot; the forest also, in part, has its own tricks to keep it less horrid than it is down south.
Even thinking of the Dragon’s Throat makes a smirk rise to my lips, silently mocking Gaucho for banning me from there in the first place. Who’d want to be there right now, anyway? Masochists, and big, surly, fire hurling titans, I guess.
A sudden voice very nearby makes both of us start, the still white dappled, earthen fawn startled into a vertical bound, while I halt, my entire body alerting to the sound. It’s male, I think, but a different sort of male than any I’ve heard. Drinking the air in as I walk towards the disturbance, curious as to what sort of individual shouts at trees, his scent confirms my suspicions. Another, gentler perfume lilts about the stranger’s, and as I come upon the two of them, I find two unicorns – just my sort of arrangement.
‘I’m Skyfall,’ he says and continues on, and I’m glad to have come into the conversation when I have. Couldn’t have missed much, if we’re still introducing ourselves, right? Striding into the group as if I’ve been invited, I stop at a cordial talking distance, glancing alongside me to find that Duir hadn’t ever left the seclusion of the forest.
"This is the Threshold to the kingdoms of Helovia," I say, the amusement at my companion’s awkwardness evident from the smile on my lips, taking care to make eye contact and nod hello to each of them politely, "I’m Rikyn."
[ OOC: YAAAAY people I haven't wrote with before hello <3 Duir is somewhere in the nearby vicinity watching. ]
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.
Unsure what to make of this unicorn, Zya's hooves seem to jitter and hesitate. The mouth of the other curves in the typical "oh" shape before the sound even escapes, filtered with glittering tones of a woman, but hard as rock underneath. Something about them sung of male and female, but the rough scent which clawed its way through the humid air finally sets the final decision: male. This swung her mind for a loop more than anything else, for if while women were thought to be flowers traditionally, this man boasted petals finer than any rose.
A smile matches hers, after the surprised voice turns to delight, and warms the pale girl's cheeks. The solid eyes find hers between the shadows of the forest, a vibrancy held within them unlike any she had ever seen. Something remarkable, much like the rest of things she experienced in Helovia.
Blankly, Zyanya blinks in response to the wink, an expression she is not familiar with. Coquettish girls existed back home, of course, but the pallid beauty had never been one for such overt and glamorous actions. She a practice in modesty, while this stallion's very presence boasted a flamboyant personality and uniqueness to match. An odd pair they make, standing in the forest at the edge of Helovia. "I see," she replies in turn with his explanation, eyes turned up to glance around the arrangement of branches, sunlight spilling over her face like glitter.
My name is Skyfall, do you think you could tell me where on earth I am?
Her eyes fall back to his face, Skyfall. An odd name, she thinks; one that conjures up images of clouds crashing down to the earth, or even of the Flats with their reflections on the thin, salt lake.
Her mouth opens again, but automatically clamps shut when the voice of another bursts through the trees. Eyes dart to the origin, finding a chocolate colored stallion decorated with gold markings striding forward. His movements mimic that of a prince or king, gait confident and assured, very fitting for one painted gold. Zyanya did not know why, but she wanted to bow before him, instead, her head dips politely to acknowledge his approach, quiet deference given during his introduction. Rikyn. It is not a name she is familiar with, but many in her home would surely know.
Sheepishly, her eyes flicker from the faces of the two stallions toward the ground. She looks at her small, curved hooves, trying to find some confidence to speak freely. Normally, her encounters thus far had been one-on-one type deals, but here, she felt overwhelmed. Both personalities of her companies screamed with strength, while hers was a timid and dull glow. "Zyanya," she practically whispers into the warm air, her heart fluttering against her ribcage and drumming in her ears. "My name is Zyanya."
Oh, he couldn't get enough of her, that little porcelain doll and her pretty, fragile heart. She was so delicate, so lovely, like a crystal made of glass. Her voice was a melodic sound, wind chimes and waterfalls cascading though the forest. The blood stained stallion felt the urge to nurture the girl, to press his velvet nose against her forehead and claim her as his charge, his friend, his dearest darling in all the land. To shower her in gifts of style and fashion was his new mission; outfitting her in endless streams of fabric and jewels was a dream he wouldn't mind living.
His waking visions, however, were cut short by the arrival of another. Gaze flicking toward the approaching stranger, Skyfall threw a polite smile and a nod in his direction, "Hello there," honeyed voice held polite interest as he assessed the newcomer. There was a confidence held within the onyx gent that served as a lovely accessory to his tasteful markings and stature. Though where his physicality failed to catch Skyfall's attention, the words that the newcomer - Rikyn, if he had heard right - spoke piqued the horned stag's interest enough.
Kingdoms of Helovia... Interesting tidbit, that.
The regal queen would have replied if not for the birdsong voice of his Doll, speaking to the ground beneath her hooves as if Skyfall wasn't about. He softened, more accurately, he melted as he watched the Doll and her show of shyness. With another step toward the delicate lass, Skyfall lowered his head to her level in an attempt at comfort, "Zyanya is a very pretty name for such a pretty lady. Thank you for honoring me with your presence, sweet miss."
That being said, the androgynous gent straightened with a smile, his jovial mood stretching over the gathered company like wings. "So! Rikyn and Zyanya, how do things work around here? Harsh military government? Distopian free-for-all? Where should I be?"
The woman seems entirely out of her element in this situation, which I’ve come to find unusual among pretty girls; most of them seem to be entirely too confident, though I prefer their brazen, queenly natures to this piteous coyness. Part of me starts to think that maybe she’s new here, too, because this Skyfall fellow is surely more at ease with being involved in a conversation than she is. I respond to her nod with a broad smile and cordial return bob of the muzzle that is sincere, the usual elation at being respected for no reason roiling through me, the sort to take for granted the fact that I’d been given confidence by those around me; the smile cloaks a wonder as to why any of our people would be ashamed of themselves.
Zyanya, she says, quietly, then again, as if she has to remind herself she’s who she is, or bolster herself to being okay with that. Unlike the feminine peculiarity called Skyfall, who sweeps to her like a doting mother, I simply look over at her with wonder, as I do any unicorn who lacks pride, or strength of spirit. Does she not know she is beautiful? That her blood is that of the Gods, each strand of her genome hand crafted by Divine Light, given to this earth as a gift for the stars to look down upon?
Skyfall does. His easy temperament even manages to draw me from the tumultuous cascade of thoughts that are brought to mind at the sight of Zyanya’s shyness. A smile and a stream of genuine laughter reward his peculiar choice of words, at first, because, well, it’s funny.
"Somewhere between," I answer truthfully, "there are four kingdoms in this land, ruled by the four Gods who made it. Each realm has its own merits, I’m sure, though I’ve only ever lived in one. The wilds also provide for those who would follow their own laws, as many of my friends and I have chosen." Smiling, more at the inside knowledge of “my friends” than anything else, I continue. "Perhaps the better question is what sort of place you would want to be."
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.
Zyanya felt as though gold eyes lingered upon her for a moment, but Rikyn makes no overt mention of her change in disposition, nor does he address her directly. She could not see them anyway, fixed eyes set on her blue stained hooves and the loam below.
Another hoof dips into her vision, followed by movement catching her attention. A face, one carved from beautifully polished stone, meets hers far below. Glimmering opal eyes gaze at her with a warm sense of comfort, and Zya turns her head back up in the conversation. Skyfall, apparently, is very kind. The words which ooze from his mouth are like honey, sweet and thick, but appreciated. A smile genuine and small forms on her lips, and her fragile voice lifts again. "Thank you," as if to tell him with lesser words that the honor is hers.
Bubbly, vibrant, and full of life, the stallion's words shift once more, asking how things worked. Zyanya might have gone pale in the face underneath her equally pale coat, for she had little knowledge of how things worked. An immigrant in an ocean of immigrants, with no real understanding of how Helovia functioned. She could tell him of the Aurora Basin - how Deimos the Reaper moved like a shadow and Hotaru a glimmering gem, or Milo the rusting Sentinel in the entrance of her home she often found shelter near. Thankfully, reminding her once more how inadequate she really was, Rikyn knows how best to answer his queries.
This is the first time she is hearing of Gods, and the soft lilac eyes round into a wide expression of wonder. Magic, living in every nook and cranny of this realm, must be the work of the Gods here. Thousands of questions about them rolled through her mind, but her lips remain shut, face a blank canvas for once. Instead, her energy attempts to reel her back into reality, with her hooves planted in the humid woods with two confident stallions at her side. Rikyn's onslaught of dialogue ends, and the Zyanya looks around rather shyly for a moment before choosing to speak up.
"I found Helovia recently, but I came to live in the Aurora Basin," the sound of her voice is a little clearer - finding confidence, not in herself but the land she called home. "The skies light up and dance in the night there. I have found many kind souls in the safety of the mountains." She thinks of Frost Fyre, Lena and Rexanna, smiling faces inviting her into the realm, her face growing distant for a moment. Their faces cause her own to glow, knowing that these wonderful mares existed in her home. "I cannot say for sure if you would like it, though. It is quite cold that far North."
As the horned stallion would tell you, laughter was verbal sunshine, burning away negativity and sparkling its way down Hunky-Dory Lane.
As the blackened rogue - Rikyn - let his hearty verbal sunshine fill the spaces between equines and tree trunks alike, Skyfall couldn't help but give a giggle in response; there was no such thing as laughter that wasn't contagious, all expressions of happiness and lightheartedness were contagious if you so chose. Of course, the bay would allow, of course it wasn't always easy to be happy. To be cheerful in the face of a blackening tide of depression or sorrow was, in fact, one of the worst tortures known to equine-kind, but to find the strength to summon up a smile in spite of that? Legendary and inspiring.
So as Rikyn's laughter faded into the arms of memory, the queenly stallion heaved a contented sigh before stepping toward his ebony counterpart, praises perched upon his lips. "Darling," he breathed, opalescent eyes glimmering in the oppressive humidity of the Threshold, "You bring light to those that surround you and I thank you on behalf of those you've blessed in such a way." With that being said, Skyfall made to brush his lips lightly against Rikyn's darkened cheek as he explained in general terms the state of Helovia's hierarchy.
Moving so that he stood once more beside his Doll, the crowned gent absently pressed his nose to the base of the girl's horn, already in the habit of unconsciously providing reassurance. "Interesting," He murmured, pulling his velvet nose from Zyanya's warmth and contemplating the consequences of such a society; it surely sounded safer and more livable than the previous terras in which he had resided. In all honesty, the spindly stallion could have stood there all day in the pressing heat of the forest, contemplating the virtues and cons of Helovia's current structure, but the wind chime voice of Zyanya reeled him away from his thoughts.
Doting grin curling its way along his lips, Skyfall listened intently to the airy song that served as the maiden's words. As she finished her monologue, the queen half wished that he had wings to flare and beat together in some semblance of applause. Truthfully, Skyfall's bias toward the delicate mare caused him to believe that nearly each action that Zyanya took should be rewarded with a fanfare and a showering of gifts; but he doubted the stingy universe would agree.
He raised his head for a moment, giving the sky - and therefore the universe - the stankiest stank eye that he could muster. Boo, universe. Boo on you, ya jerk.
Returning to the meeting before him, Skyfall tilted his head in a way that was reminiscent of a pose before gracing the short silence with his voice, "Well, my dears, Gods, realms and dancing skies, you've got me hooked! Now, as far as where I'll hang my hide, this Aurora Basin sounds absolutely splendid. Do you think you could get me an invite?" While his demeanor remained playful and his voice laced with the usual jovial tone, Skyfall was truly and wholly intrigued.
"Rikyn, honey, you'll have to pay me a visit some time," He flashed a wink to the handsome brute, "If your friends are half as handsome as you, I'm sure I'll have a dandy time." With that said, Skyfall pivoted toward the direction in which Zyanya had come, a silent request to lead on, lovely! handing in the air between them.
07-21-2016, 11:40 AM (This post was last modified: 07-21-2016, 11:42 AM by Rikyn.)
Not the five feet of water to your chin
It’s not the most fair of set ups in the wood of greetings; we’re obviously both more interested in girl than each other, and it doesn’t help that I’m not entirely good at this whole… socialization thing. Don’t get me wrong, I have all the tools, and even a proper length of training in the art of wielding one’s tongue. I’d been taught these things by my mother, by Deimos (who's greatest skill was intimidation, the lack of talking), and Vaelenne. I had watched manipulations of a kind Queen by a wicked woman, and seen the strength of man dominate the fickle fluttering of a women’s tempestuous heart; I had seen the conversations between Lord and God, God and people, God to God.
I suppose the difference between the other linguists and I is this: I don’t like the art. Like a dancer bent to the task by a desirous mother, I lack the heart to go out of my way to make others feel welcome, wanted, conversed with. They should do that for me, the lost Prince, the broken hearted one.
So when Skyfall falls into his becoming-commonplace playful repertoire with the shy damsel from the North, I let them. I quietly think back over what she’s said as he twitters off like a flock of sparrows again; the homesick welling that comes to heart makes his reply almost expected. Of course he wants to go to the Aurora Basin. It’s where we belong, but I won’t go back.
Not until I’m strong enough to enforce dominion over the snakes that coil about my heart when I think of the winged ones casting their high shadows on the white, pure snow. Blessedly, as I stare blankly in silence, Skyfall remembers I’m here. What he says smashes the dark, hateful feelings in my chest like a lot of glass. My eyebrows dodge upwards, a puzzled, offended, and amused emotional cast striking my face. Was he hitting on me? Duir’s mental laughter, silent to all but me, chimes through my head.
"Thank you?" is a question that meets the air before I can manage to even get my head to stop spinning all the way, evidenced by what comes out next, "they’re mostly girls though, now that I think about it...."
Now you’re rambling, idiot. Frowning, I clear my throat. That will help, said no one ever. An awkward, escapist’s glance is cast at the wood behind me, my brain already seeking a route out.
"Don’t let dad’s machines get you," I decide, casting a wink in their direction, tossing out hints to my prosperous lineage at them both because I can; because its what I do, and it makes me feel better about me. Especially when I’m embarrassed, and caught off guard; I don’t like not being in power, especially when the person who has stolen it is a slender, feminine creature like Skyfall.
On that captivating note, I pivot about, lion’s tail arcing in the motion, trailing to a whip-like extension as I trot off into the woods, my golden embellished fawn taking up after me from his nearby hiding place.
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