"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.
Being from the Dragon's Throat, one would think that Mordecai would adore the heat. That Tallsun would be her favorite season, heralded by the God of the Sun, that she would have spent Birdsong thinking about how much closer Tallsun was with each pasing day. That wasn't the case. Mordecai hated Tallsun. She hated the heat and she hated the way the sun bleached her black coat and turned her mane orange at the tips. She couldn't wait for Orangemoon.
It had been several weeks since Mordecai had even been to the Dragon's Throat. Maybe it was more than a season, she couldn't remember. Eventually, she supposed, she would go back but it definitely wouldn't be anytime soon. The Throat was guarantgeed to be a furnace while in the grips of the summer heat and she didn't want to have to deal with it. So she'd made her temporary home in the meadow where she'd brought Nizho for his first outing. There was plenty of grass, plenty of shade, and plenty of water. It was perfect.
She had spent the hottest part of the afternoon snoozing under the shade of one of the oak trees. It offered a little reprieve from the heat, but it was still hot and she was still moody because of it. As the sun began to sink toward the horizon and a breeze began to kick up she left her shady spot and ventured toward the stream that cut through the meadow. Even with the sun setting and a breeze she still began to sweat. It lathered at her elbows and along her chest, only serving to further her annoyance.
Tallsun sucked
Mordecai was definitely not a mare that was very concerned with her physical appearance. She was often covered with dirt and dust and mud and hardly ever bothered herself with washing it off, but she hated being covered with sweat. When it dried it got sticky and then it got crusty and crunchy and ugh. When she reached the stream she wasted little time in lowering herself into the water and rolling so she could wash the sweat off.
It was too damn hot.
"."
Translation:
MORDECAI
maybe life is nothing more than a curse inside the blessed
i'll fight this bloody war with every strangled breath
Mordecai, daughter of Einarr, was not the only one to suffer beneath the oppressive heel of heat. Ashamin the Clovenheart had been raised in a cold more biting than that of the Basin, and as a result had no love for Tallsun’s fiery insistence. He too dripped with sweat, and walked sluggishly through the Thistle Meadow in search of relief. Though Lochan and Rakt were better at adapting to the season, they too moved slower than usual. It wasn’t the heat that bothered them but rather the bright intrusion of day on their nocturnal schedules.
Stop, Lochan moaned across the bond, a command which Rakt obeyed and Ashamin stubbornly ignored.
"We’ll rest soon," was all Ashamin said in reply, continuing to walk and forcing Rakt to do the same, lest he be left behind. The Clovenheart was not exactly in the mood to pause and argue with the blood colored cerndyr, who had been overt in his desire to turn back and find shelter in the shade of trees for the entire duration of their walk. Lochan was reluctant but did as told, pausing only to tug a mouthful of grass from the meadow’s covering.
When the stream appeared before them, Ashamin only cast the two cerndyr that followed him a self-satisfied look before throwing himself into it. There wasn’t time to gloat, he needed to cool off and he assumed his companions wanted the same. So when Lochan didn’t follow Ashamin into the water, and when Rakt moved slower than usual, Ashamin was quick to suspect he had moved too quickly.
He lifted his head from the water, letting the marks of the stream sluice across his features and fill the creases of his bear as he turned to (unfortunately) stare at the mare he’d unknowingly barged in on. Ashamin adopted a rather comical guilty smile, made further laughable by the flopping of his large ears, before calling out to her from upstream.
"I promise, stranger, if I hadn’t been too distracted by the heat I would have asked if you minded me joining you."
And with a whip of his long tail and the look of a fool, Ashamin was back to himself again.
See Ashamin's profile for more information about Lochan, Rakt, and his various items.
All magic and force allowed, barring death and permanent injury.
Do not tag me, please message on skype instead
The filly had never known a world that wasn’t baking. It was comforting to know that even when she travelled north, the heat stayed with her - the heat was a safety blanket in a world that was strange and only getting stranger with each step north. She had been further north than this, when she had met the troll boy who was made of stone, but on that trip she had not been alone. Castor had been with her, however briefly, and now she was looking for him.
He had to be around here somewhere.
Thinking pragmatically, Vastra decided she’d go to the edges of this meadow before looping back down towards the Throat. She should stay around the herd land anyway. Or, really, she should never have left it in the first place. When her family came back, surely that would be the first place they would look and she should be there waiting for them.
Soon, soon she would stay there and be good but for now she felt too restless.
Her gait was slow and careful, each new thing that alerted one of her senses required close inspection. She quickly learned by trial and error that many of the plants here in this meadow were prickly. They reminded her of how she had gotten the urchin spines stuck in her muzzle while playing with the other foals and she quickly searched for some water to dunk the raw, pricked skin in to soothe it.
Spying a stream nearby, the red filly hurried toward it to do just that. There were adults nearby, and she eyed them warily as she proceeded to lower her head into the water and move it around to try to wash some of the thistles out. She needed to be more careful about where she put her nose in the future.
Water splashed and flew as Mordecai rolled in the water, washing away layers of sweat and dirt. She was so wrapped up in what she was doing that she didn't notice the stallion that ran to the stream to drink until he called out to her. She was quick to her feet and stood glaring at him as the water dripped down her now clean hide. Her ears were back and her eyes accusing-- how dare you sneak up on me!.
"Fin hash yer?" The mare demanded automatically, before realizing that the stallion probably wouldn't know what she was asking. "Who are you?" She rephrased, her voice every bit as rough in the common tongue as it was in Dothraki. "And them." She nodded her dark head to the deer that had hung back from the stream. "Who are they?"
Now that Mordecai was more alert and not so preoccupied with washing she was aware of the filly that rushed to the water. Her dark eyes left Ashamin and she looked at the winged girl, her nostrils quivering as she breathed in their scents. The filly's scent was distinct, compared to Ashamin's. While he smelled like a mixtued of different lands the filly held the telltale salty scent that belonged to the Dragon's Throat.
"Hash yer arrekoon jin Dragon's Throat?" She asked the girl, though she knew it was quite possible that she wouldn't understand what was asked and that she could have just been passing through the Throat on her way somewhere else. She looked back toward Ashamin. "I am Mordecai."
"I am Mordecai."
Translation:
hash yer arrekoon jin - are you from the
MORDECAI
maybe life is nothing more than a curse inside the blessed
i'll fight this bloody war with every strangled breath
08-29-2016, 07:24 AM (This post was last modified: 08-29-2016, 07:24 AM by Ashamin.)
Her voice was warlike, but it did not come from any war that Ashamin would have fought before. Even this far from the Dragon Throat he could smell the territory on her, or at least the difference. Ashamin had never been beyond that distant shore, what rested on that Island was only something he could dream of. But this mare, with her harsh tones and her accusatory questions, well... she reminded him of someone dear.
Ashamin couldn't remember, not really, whether Einarr had ever spoken his native language before. Not in that moment anyway. But maybe all Ashamin needed to hear was that speech pattern to have the black pegasus brought to mind. Of course without a clear connection he dismissed the memory, but he couldn't shake it off entirely.
"I am Ashamin, the Clovenheart," he said to the mare, head tall and figure more composed than it had been seconds earlier. The water seemed to run off of him as if it knew it no longer belonged to him, not in this state. "These are my companions, Lochan and Rakt." They looked up at the mentions of their names, but Rakt looked away quickly with a snort. The red cerndyr need not concern himself with this.
The little filly that arrived was unexpected, and the sudden sight of a child made Ashamin think of his own. All three had been operating on different channels, it seemed, and the Clovenheart saw them rarely. He opened his mouth to speak but the mare beat him to it, barking out in her native tongue and covering up the fact that, when it came down to it, Ashamin hadn't anything to say in the first place. For a second, he was thankful. A second later, curious.
Dragon's Throat. Mordecai. Ashamin's large ears turned forward, and his dark eyes grew bright. "Mordecai, a pleasure," he said, his voice quick. It was, sure, but he would admit to being keenly interested in the Dragon's Throat aspect of the conversation. "Are you from the Dragon's Throat?" he asked them both, unaware of how redundant he was being.
See Ashamin's profile for more information about Lochan, Rakt, and his various items.
All magic and force allowed, barring death and permanent injury.
Do not tag me, please message on skype instead
Her nose mostly free of thistles after washing it in the stream, Vastra had planned on observing the older horses for a moment before moving off. She wasn’t really all that interested in talking to them, just watching them, and with her mind already made up on that plan it surprised her when the winged mare spoke to her.
And not just spoke, but spoke a very familiar language.
Raising her head out of the water completely, Vastra stared with wide eyes - amazed at finding someone else that spoke it, especially outside of their home! “Sek.” She breathed out the affirmation quietly, as though afraid she had misheard. But no, it was their language. Perhaps it was wider in use than she realized - perhaps it belonged to the entirety of the Throat. “Vastra.” She offered her name, dark gaze flickering to the white and black stallion (how odd he looked with no wings) and tilted her head in confusion when he asked the exact same question that Mordecai just did but in the common tongue.
He was clearly not from the Throat.
“Yes.” She replied to him, clarifying what she and Mordecai already knew - immediately accepting an association with the older female and considering her an ally in this conversation, despite how much of a stranger she really was. “Where are you from?” Her curiosity was at war with her wariness about him, about all strangers, but as it usually did, curiosity won out.
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