"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.
In my scarecrow dreams, (When they smash my heart into smithereens)
Be a bright red rose come bursting the concrete.
A fond smile spread onto the lips of Sacre, who stared across the water that split the Dragons Throat from the rest of Helovia, a metal key between his teeth as a gentle breeze whipped up from the ocean, tugging at his wavy forelock that tangled around his bright red horn. With him, as ever, were two foxes who played amongst themselves, rolling across the dusty ground with tails flying in all directions. It left the red marked boy to his own thoughts as he flicked through memories of living in the Throat, from being guided across the water by Maren to crafting the very keys that activated the bridge so he and his once herd mates may come and go. If he wanted, he could activate it now and float across, but even if Sacre still had the key he couldn't do that anymore—he'd be trespassing. Honestly, the fox boy should've come much sooner to return his pass to the fiery land, but he hadn't and faltered in his responsibility during the stress of his first few days back in Helovia, yet still he had come back to do his final duty to his old home—give the house key back.
Gently, he placed it on the sandy beach a little ways away from the shoreline, what would he say if he accidentally lost it in the ocean? He'd probably cry as it sank into the unreachable depths of the deep blue sea, begging the Sun God not to smite him and curse his own luck, because it was something that would probably happen to Sacre. He could survive being captured, the wraiths, the rift battles... but something stupid would be his undoing; died falling off a cliff after tripping over his own feet... or something like that.
The fox boy lifted his head and cast his gaze back across the ocean, waiting for somebody to notice him so he might complete his task of returning the key. There was always usually somebody hanging around or patrolling, the Throat borders were rarely left unwatched to Sacre's knowledge... well, most herd borders were rarely left unwatched. Resting a back foot, he wondered idly who would find him first whilst the late evening sun began to dip further down, relieving Sacre of its deadly heat that had had him clinging to the shade of trees the further south he got.
Sacre is waiting on the heart caves side of the sea, giving his key back :3
Together, they have become like ghosts, tied to one another and rarely seen apart, and if seen distanced, they are never truly that far. They frequent various places, tucked into the caverned belly of the cave system just north of the Throat, wandering the vastness of the Steppe while Sikeax thinks nonstop about nighttime, just wanting to see lights that Hobgoblin has no interests in, but only withstands because if he is to put up with her heavy emotions anymore than he has to, it’ll be the death of him.
Yet whatever they have done in the time between their leaving and now return to the Dragon’s Throat is a mystery. Sleep bathes both of their bones. Her mind cannot leave the idea of clutching to her son or slipping beneath the surface of the lake to escape into her dreams even for a bit. Weight sinks his eyelids over yellow eyes. Hooves drag through the sand and dune grass, leaving small trails in their wake. Temptation encourages him to leap upon her back and abandon her with short notice, but this time, he knows better. Home is a growing outline on the horizon, a shortening stroll over fire and sand, and her wounds, courtesy of the Sun, are not welcoming to his touch.
Sea salt overtakes her nostrils in one deep, drawn out breath, finishing itself with a sigh. Fluttering lashes over blue skies pull her back to life, a soft encouragement to keep going because they’re almost there, almost to home and Tyrath and comfort and to rest, her chance at forgetting that things are still very much crashing down in there despite what she lets herself believe.
Hobgoblin, on the other hand, is more willing to let any activities occurring around him bring her back to complete functioning. Chittering like war drums are catching in his large ears, drawing his body taut as he stops, Sikeax carrying on because in her head she’s already gone and her body is a moving vessel carried onwards by sea and desert winds. The black snake of his tail swings with increasing pace as he listens in on them, whatever they are, giving in at last to curiosity and collecting his gait to reach them.
Once more, Sikeax is somewhere else, sinking crowned skull to grab at the stale grasses because lately she’s been more needy for food than usual, chewing with distaste at the roughness and unpleasantness of her meal. She could do better easily, but there is a strong requirement of effort at that. Swallowing feels a lot harder too.
Sleep fades from her as the beach becomes less compact and more free-formed with each step, sliding and sinking as she stumbles on occasion. Squinting and scrunching her eyes can only go so far, painting a growing, dark body against the landscape ahead of her in a feeble attempt to have her collect herself more.
It barely works as Hobgoblin finds what has ailed him, tilting his head as the beasts indeed remind him of his current form, but aren’t quite it exactly.
“Do you need across?” The words nearly grumble out of her throat, obviously symptoms of her wear from traveling. Sacre hasn’t fully set himself in her head just yet, nothing else than a slowly detailing black figure with a horn due to half-closed eyes and lazy ears.
OOC: I'm digging my grave a lot deeper but i cannot resist a thread between these two.
Sikeax is tired af and sorta starting to show her pregnancy if Sacre wants to notice it or something.
Hobgoblin is in his Serval form.
talk talk talk
S I K E A X
you've got a million and one stars to dream upon