"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.
A rather large part of Sohalia the Transcended was numb. Ever since that day, she had forced herself to keep moving, to constantly find something new to focus her attention on. She had trotted morning patrols along the beach, picking a different stretch each day, pushing herself to gallop when she reached the deepest, softest sands. She would have flown, but that would have been too easy - she craved the physicality of running, the way her muscles burned and her lungs screamed, and sometimes she wondered what would happen if she tripped just so - but she would never leave her family, not like that, and so she always slowed back to a walk, breathing hard and sweating harder, retreating to the metal piles to move as much as she could before she collapsed into fitful sleep.
If her thoughts were dark, her dreams were darker. Each day she pushed herself harder, hoping that maybe she would avoid the terrors that plagued her nights. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw him. He was dead, his eyes open and staring, and yet she was still screaming at him, blaming him. And in his lifeless eyes, she could still see the hatred that had clouded their last meeting, the accusations that had flown between them, the defeat with which they had parted ways. And every time, she woke with a start, tears streaming down her ivory face. Every morning, she sunk into the waters of the oasis, dunking her entire body as though to bathe. In reality, she was washing away the tearstained guilt that marred her snowy hide.
Wanting to be strong for her children, the Transcended pasted a sad smile on her face and kept her tears a secret. It was bad enough that Vinati had seen her sobbing over Gaucho's body - she didn't need to prolong their pain even more by falling into the pit of depression that threatened to consume her. Vinati, oddly enough, was handling her father's death well. She claimed to have seen his spirit rise into the sky, as though to be with the Sun God. The Transcended had grasped the thought, obsessed over it, slipped into her magic time and again throughout the days following her ex-lover's death, but despite Sohalia's best efforts, her brief trips into the spirit world had yielded no results. It would seem that, even in the afterlife, her former mate wanted nothing to do with her.
If she stopped moving, if she stopped forcing herself to work, if she stopped running from the nightmares, she was forced to acknowledge the gaping hole that bled where her heart used to be.
She kept telling herself that it could be worse. He could have been killed, brutally murdered, torn apart by some great monster. But somehow, that might have been better. He would have died a warrior, a hero, a martyr. She would have been proud of his death, though it would still have hurt the same. But this... this mystery disease that had claimed the WildFire... it was silent, it was sudden, it was unexpected, and it left her grasping at straws, desperately hoping that one of them would help her to understand why.
Several days had passed when the mare realized through the numbness that with Gaucho gone, their only leader with Sikeax. While she respected the mare's healing abilities and had faith in her leadership, she knew from firsthand experience how daunting the title of Sultana could be. As the ivory dove set out on her morning run, she found herself thinking about the healer. Though she didn't know her personally, she certainly knew of her. Perhaps, she thought, it would be prudent to pay the new Sultana a visit. Perhaps she could be of service somehow.
Perhaps Sikeax could give her some task to fill the emptiness in her chest.
"talk talk talk"
@Sikeax - I figured this was a good stopping point? So you can decide where she is when Soh finds her and all that? IDK IT WAS JUST GETTING REALLY LONG.
Brighter than the northern lights
Want to live to feel the daylight
09-08-2016, 09:03 PM (This post was last modified: 09-08-2016, 09:04 PM by Sikeax.)
into the sea, you and me
all these years, and no one heard
i love you, let's go
For what could have been a thousand years, her body remained locked under the surface of the sea. They can’t see her here, can’t chase her down and know that she is weak and not meant to be their Sultana when she crawls into the cave made by the crumbling of their land bridge and short-lived wall, another reminder of Gaucho, the man whose shoes she can’t bring herself to fill nor ever will.
Hobgoblin takes to her new rank better than she does. The idea of leading fills him with a glory so strong that he is ravenous, burdening her with immense pride that he has no shame for. For him, they all belong to him by his sharing with Sikeax. His. His prey, his subjects, his to control in her weakness.
Rage drives into the beast at her lack of willingness to step up to the plate with his feelings. She is becoming his burden, and each time he has the chance to sink his teeth into something, to rip it from this world in violence, he thinks of it as her flesh.
It was with pity that she isn’t completely made for permanent sea life, that despite the amount of sea grasses that she can greedly manage into her mouth, her children are not made to live with her and she cannot quench her thirst with every drop of the water encasing her.
Bella is a haunting ghost in her head, reminding her that she is dependent on her. Maybe leadership is destroying her abilities as a parent. Come on.
The thought of her daughter is nerve wracking, and she cannot take the absence of her winged babe any longer.
The command is nothing but a suggestion that Hobgoblin makes an aggressive lunge at, heightening his hunter’s instinct when the wildlife is becoming accustomed to the new top predator(himself) in this place, and when all available prey flees in a flurry of panic and surprise, she is the next thing to come to mind.
At least she isn’t naive anymore. At least she’s learned to listen to his thoughts during times like these, when she is the most vulnerable and susceptible thing to his power. Changing from seabound to land bound is something usually leaves her reeling and coughing, a heaving mess as her lungs cough up the last of salt water, but today, she buries it in her sorrows as her legs scramble against the pain in her chest and wet sand holds her down.
And as if the hunter has entirely forgotten the hunt, his pursuit is a lazy exchange of bodies, coming out on four legs and a deep heave of his chest as the rate of oxygen exchange lessens, gasping for air in silence. He even looks upon her as if her fears and suspicions aren’t needed, like she’s crazy to believe that he was even just momentarily thinking about ripping her entire hind leg off for sport.
Deep down, he’s smiling to himself, thoroughly pleased.
The desert comes to feel less unforgiving, like Gaucho has taken all of its might with his death, that it has finally come to respect her effort and time poured into it and the people residing within. Or it could just be that she is still soaked to the bone, waterlogged by hours spent underwater without even the thought of returning to the surface.
Whatever it happens to be, the breeze feels colder, harsher, runs deep. She’d do anything for the harshness of the sun that has brought her to this mess.
A ghost comes looking for them in the belly of the beast, or maybe they’re looking for it. Either way, the small, white and winged body is alive in the end, a breathing testament to the plague in the Dragon’s Throat.
For Sikeax, her face is yet another reminder that she failed, a person who has been touched by her inability to keep a dying man from where he would eventually end up regardless of her efforts. For Hobgoblin, she is a ghost of the desert, one he mimics with a smile they can’t see.
She barely even notices the change in his body when the same old sensation runs across her and dives into the moisture in her bones.
Blue eyes meet bi-tones with their oceans filled up with sadness, begging forgiveness. I’m sorry I failed. I’m sorry I’m making you go through what you’re going through.
No matter how hard she tries, she can’t get a single word out. Only drooping ears and an expression that writes novels from her sorrow.
“Sohalia.” I didn’t mean for him to die. Please, it wasn’t my fault. Please forgive me for something I cannot control.
Had it been any other time, she would have praised herself for remembering the mare’s name. It had been nearly common knowledge for a long time that Sohalia was Gaucho’s mate, and despite her previous ranks as Forger and Sultana, both during the time that Sikeax was a part of the Dragon’s Throat, Sohalia’s name is but a fleeing word attached to a body that makes her think of the dead and of the dead man that she couldn’t save that the ghostly woman had probably loved so strongly at some time(and probably still did).
“How are you?” Pleasantries barely seem to fit the situation given the past circumstances, but she cannot bring herself to come across his death, of what she had done or any of the things that had occurred in the past few weeks. Small talk will have to do, at least for now.
OOC: takes forever to reply because work sucks oops c':
goblin actually goes thro all of his forms in this post! so in order, they are leopard seal, serval and then wendigo at all of the times that his changing is mentioned.
09-14-2016, 10:11 AM (This post was last modified: 10-19-2016, 09:04 PM by Sohalia.)
SOHALIA
Almost as though thoughts of her had summoned her, Sikeax appeared. She was damp and mussed, her eyes betraying the depth of a sadness that rivaled Sohalia's. The Transcended knew that their new Sultana had taken Gaucho's death particularly badly, for not only had she the guilt of failing to save him, but she also had the suspicion of the rest of the herd to deal with. Whispers plagued them, whispers that would no doubt be voiced whenever the herd met as one again, whispers that suggested that Sikeax had purposely killed Gaucho. Sohalia didn't believe a word of it. She could see in the former healer's eyes how haunted she was by the whole ordeal.
She wondered how long Sikeax had known that Gaucho was dying.
She wondered if she should have known.
A part of her ached to be angry, like many of the others in their herd. She longed for the ease of placing blame upon someone else, for a simple scapegoat to bear her sorrow and pain. It was easier than facing her own demons, but at what cost? She would not destroy someone else simply to replace the aching hole in her chest with a momentary vengeance. Especially when it was not deserved. Especially when her anger was directed only at herself.
She had failed him, much more so than Sikeax ever had.
The dove stretched her neck in silence, offering her muzzle in consolation. Her bi-colored eyes brimmed with unshed tears, but there was no blame there, no hatred. Still, despite her best efforts, the Sultana's question brought a sigh to her lips. "I am..." But what was she? Physically, nothing ailed her. She was as strong as ever, particularly after having been working with metal as Cera's teacher-turned-apprentice. Mentally, though, she was shattered. But if she said that, it would only make Sikeax feel worse. "... as well as can be expected."
She paused, her gaze far away as memories assaulted her. Her parents had died when she was young, and now she couldn't remember their faces. But she remembered everything about Gaucho. She remembered the way he watched over the herd, the way he played with their children, the way he touched her just so - she remembered it all, and she could not stop it from replaying over and over in her mind. But with the images and emotions that combined to torment and soothe her in equal measure came hollowness. He was gone, and her memories were all she had left.
What if she forgot him, too?
"I need a job, Sikeax. I need to keep busy." If I don't, I'll break.
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[P] I thought you said forever [Sikeax]
