"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.
As he grew, so did the rate which he left the Throat. His banners raised their feathery reach toward the heavens and the dragon colt flew in the next breath, gone for hours or days. He returned when his appetite was sated, or whenever his wings refused to carry him further — when his hide of scales or fur demanded a bed of sand, the sun as it's blanket, and soft voice of his mother as his lullaby. Most of all, he came home to let his mother know that he was okay, that he was ranging safely from their domain and would always return to her when he could. She was right that he would not be a colt for much longer, but never would she doubt how devoted and beloved she was to her son, that he would always make sure.
Apart from Sikeax, Goblin and Valdis, the Throat held no interest for the skull faced colt. Zhu had disappeared, and so had Kid, and Astarot. There is an uncomfortable twist in his stomach as his scaled wings carry him higher over the meadow, jagged teeth bared with an exhaled snort. He wanted them all back, selfishly, possessively wanting to have them all back so that their family would be complete again. They are all he has, when he's older and he has his piles of gold, his battle scars and his rights — it will be them which he shares it with, them he will turn to with a belly full of fire and pride in his eyes. Without them, conquest is a hollow prospect, being a Prince or a King is a hollow achievement if he cannot show them and share the victory.
They are strong separated, but together they are formidable, a beast with many heads able to devour and protect one another from those that would do them harm or keep them from what they desired most. His heart is a fragile beast, temperamental as a volcano and as bottomless as the ocean, it is an unending pool of molten magma which rages at the slightest loss, the slightest insult, the slightest sting of feeling left out or being absent. The plumes of fire which roared from his spine and nostrils give a punctuated flare with his emotions. He hated it, but he knew someday it would be a volcano for very different reasons, not the scars left by a careless mother in his first precious few weeks of life, he will ride out this tempest until he is a pillar, a behemoth, a leviathan and he will command it instead.
Unsurpised, he finds himself in a dance which took him through the verdant sprawl of the Labyrinth, he had been here once before, when he was a much younger colt. Astarot had been with me, he thought with a bitter note, and where is he now? Undeterred by the sudden memory, his scaled body continued it's flight, he had taken to this form more and more. Less out of practice and more out of need to feel magnificent and powerful, he is much larger when he wears a hide of beaten gold scales, and a crown of numerous horns on his head. He can squash that which torments him, and he can occupy his mind with other things when he is like this.
His expectations had been low as he explored, so imagine his surprise when he see's a familiar body whirl into focus as he burst through the bamboo into a verdant field of greenery. Zhu, only this Zhu was bigger, bigger and older. When did he get so big? Where had he gone? Why did he go in the first place? His thoughts snowballed until they all but left him for a wave of happiness to override the erratic questions which threaten to drown him. A bellow ripped from his jagged maw in greeting as hit the ground with an audible thud, burnished talons dug deep as he approached his older brother at what could be considered a canter, for a Dragonling. Claws became cloven hooves with a crack and audible snap of draconian features becoming equine again, the internal fire which raged inside him igniting once more as the magic washed off of him in a blaze of scales and embers.
"Where the hell have you been?" I've missed you, you great big oaf. "And when did you get so big?" Crimson pools squinted at the larger of the two as his long tail came to poke at a muscled shoulder, and suddenly he felt like he should of stayed a dragon, he really didn't like being small anymore — though to most colts and fillies, he would dwarf them if he stood beside them now. The sly smile on his fanged maw hopefully let Zhu know that he wasn't all that annoyed with his departure, he was just incredibly pleased to have his big brother back.
"talk talk talk"
from the ashes of the sun I arise
a herald of ruin and damnation
Tallsun is his demise. The night that has sculpted his magnificent mass of war is easily crumbled by humid heat, feeling as if he is gasping for air as he breathes and desperately looking for shade and water when it comes. He hates it like he hates a large amount of things: with unbridled ferocity.
Bamboo, much to his disgust, offers him no relief. He is better off in the sun as he crosses the opening he finds himself in, mumbling out curses and swears in hungarian as he goes.
After his meeting with his father, he is now set on getting to the Throat, but in his time of wandering, having lost all sense of direction from his aimlessness when freely roaming and conquering, had brought himself to this. Hunger ebbs at him. He obliges, reaching down with teeth that aren’t made for the grass that fills up his belly, chewing idly with teeth that luckily fit his diet. Only his front teeth have been altered by unseen forces and possibly genetics, and for that he is thankful. The idea of having to stuff meat down his throat like he has seen Hobgoblin do so many times doesn’t come off as pleasing. If anything, it comes off as disgusting.
Even the thought rolls his stomach over.
His allotted time to feast is short, for his family cannot keep away from him. Luck pities him in the end course of things, but not in the way that the shadow man expects. It doesn’t just bring him his little brother, it brings him a dragon.
The sight of it doesn’t instantly strike him as Tyrath. Instead, Zhu is pulling himself high, moving his long, thick tail upwards from its limp, ground-lying position into a stance that brings the end of it coiled around, level to the base where it attached to his body. The slouch inhabiting his shoulders and spine is abandoned. He promptly rises like a mountain, like the winged and horned mare that his mother and him had encountered long ago had once done to show him just how tall she was.
It had taken his breath away and made him feel small. Now, he tries to mimic her for that same effect.
It all goes to waste quickly, eyes lighting up as the body changes as if it is Hobgoblin coming to find him, and on the other side, there he is, grown but still the same boy he had loved so dearly, spent hours playing with, swimming in the oasis and making trips to the beach with their mother’s companion to frolic about the waves and harass sting rays and what else they could discover. It lights a smile upon his face like a beacon in the dark, ears thrown to the sky as he tries to keep his joints locked into place.
He fails, letting out a joyous whinny he hopes no one else is around to capture, sprinting to his baby brother with happiness and love blooming. Oh, how happy he is to see that Tyrath is okay.
Tyrath spews forth the Helovian language like everyone else does here, reminding him of just how long he has been away from this place. It should return easily, but he is not ready to embarrass himself before his family when they can all easily speak and understand what he knows best. His brother’s words are the same ones he’s already gotten from Kid and Volterra, asking where he has gone, why he is so big, mentioning his growth and acceleration into manhood.
He cannot answer both of those questions correctly. Time has driven him to what he is now, reaching out with his mouth open slightly to gum at an ear atop the silver dragon’s head, taking great importance in assuring that the use of his teeth is withheld. The muscles in his face ache at the harshness of his smile, something that they’re not used to. “Idő.” is what is mumbled forth at the question; there is nothing that he can give for the first one because the man doesn’t exactly know where he has been exactly. Just places without names.
He wouldn’t care about them anyway. “Hogy vagy? Hogyan anya csinál?” Possibly it is rude to ask of her at this time, but he cannot keep himself from it. They make up the two souls that he cares for, the family that mattered must. He worries for them at every turn. “Aggódtam miattad.”
The softness of his voice dies swiftly. It doesn’t fit into the rhythm of his song well. A more playful search for skin is given as he reaches to nip a part of his brother, only intending to let his teeth graze. Anyone else, then maybe he would have let them dig. “De én büszke vagyok rád.” It’s true. He can’t dare to bring himself to forge a lie to his little brother, yet alone forge one for any reason. Honesty is something that he stands by as manipulation and deceit is not a path designed for warriors like himself. It will do him no good. “Mondd el, amit nem fogadott.” Eagerness collects in him with obvious display. He has missed so much with the time away from Tyrath that it almost gives him guilt. The boy is dear to him, and as his older brother, he is entitled to know everything that he can.
Idő: time. Hogy vagy? Hogyan anya csinál?: how are you? how is mom? Aggódtam miattad: I worried about you De én büszke vagyok rád.: I am proud of you Mondd el, amit nem fogadott: Tell me what I missed
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