"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 water is so blue, even in the middle of the night.
It is some time after midnight, and the painted stallion is staring at the waves as they crash against the shoreline. Somehow that is calming, more than anything else he has seen - the wave the whitecaps ebb and flow, ceaselessly bombarding the sands. And yet, despite their best efforts, the seas cannot destroy the land, not all at once. No, water works slowly, pulling away grain by grain, tirelessly working until there is nothing left. He wonders if one day all of Helovia will be pulled under.
-You're being morbid,- Zarina tells him, chittering uneasily upon his withers.
It is dark. There is no moon tonight to light the way. Stars dot the skies, but they do little to illuminate the world below. Zarina doesn't like when her bonded thinks these things. She is still so full of life, so full of hope - he, on the other hand, is desolate, uncaring. She feels it as harshly as if it was her who was depressed, and it scares her. He has always cared about something, and yet now... now there is nothing that keeps him grounded. Not even her. In truth, they have been divided since they awoke in the Halcyon Flats. He could not remember, and she could only do so much to help him. He couldn't even remember her, and they shared a soul.
-What is to become of us now?- she wonders, more to herself than to him.
It had been weeks since the twin dragon companions had feasted in the proper way. They had been surviving on small game; mice and squirrels filled their bellies when it was necessary. Abraham kept them hungry, kept them at his side. The trio had been stalking the pegasus for quite some time now, and Abraham had decided it was finally time to move in on the opportunity. His dragons were hungry, and they did not like to be kept waiting any longer than necessary.
The behemoth slithered silently in the darkness, the sand muffling his massive hooves from making noise. This beach is where he gained Gwyneverre all those years ago, and it was this beach on which he would shed blood to feed her properly, as well as her sister. Dangerously, the stallion lowered his massive head and pointed his dual, twisting horns for the pegasus. He seemed mesmerized by the churning, wine-dark waters before him. The leviathan knew this was the perfect timing. Stepping forward just a few more steps, the finally struck.
Haunches tucked and tightened, tree-like legs propelling him forward with an impressive amount of strength and agility. He came like a shadow and sought to devour the pegasus as the night does to the day. Feathered hooves struck out toward the stallion's hind legs, an attempt to render him immobile and helpless. Twin horns sought to puncture through the muscle protecting his right femur.
In the sky, the warrioresses moved quickly. Gold and white glinted in the moonlight silently, their assault quick and powerful. The gold aimed to swoop down and grab the companion from the pegasus' back. The white opened her jaws and blasted her white hellfire toward his face, well enough away from Abraham to save him from burns.
Holy water cannot help you now
Thousand armies couldn't keep me out
I don't want your money
I don't want your crown
See I've come to burn your kingdom down
The night was dark, the only light that illuminated the beach was the light of the stars and they were nearly useless. The ceaseless crashing of the waves against the shore had lulled Mordecai into a sense of calm and she had begun to fall asleep. Sounds, however faint it was above the crashing waves, roused her back to a state of total consciousness. Her head turned, eyes adjusting to the darkness as she looked down the beach. It the blackneess of the night she saw the dragon fire, saw the way it very faintly outlined the features of another horse.
Her body turned, ears tilting forward, and eyes straining against the darkness. Something in her pulled her forward, whether it was curiosity or the thrum of her blood that called for the thrill of battle like a wild animal she was unsure, but she could not stand rooted in place. Like a panther she slinked through the darkness, her heart racing beating faster and faster with each step she took. As she moved her mind replayed her own fight against her mother, one that introduced the thrill of battle to her. In the darkness of the night, with a fight waging not far away, she found herself craving that same thrill.
The fight was well underway by the time that she arrived and she was aware of only two things -- Abraham was fighting and it was his dragon's fire that had pulled her in. She hesitated, watching the way Abraham's muscles rippled under his dark coat as he attacked the pegasus. There was no wondering why the pegasus was being attacked, no wondering who he was, where he was from ... the only thing that Mordecai could focus on was the way her blood screamed for battle.
Not a word was spoken by Mordecai as she threw herself into the fight, her magic already seeking out the blood that pulsed in Quilyan's veins. She hoped that the pain of his blood turning to acid would be enough to render him immobile -- easy pickings for Abraham and his dragons. As her magic went to work she circled, putting herself on the opposite side of Quilyan from Abraham and it was at this point that she charged, her aim to use brute force to shove Quilyan toward Abraham, and hopefully into the lethal point of his horn.
"."
ooc://
she uses her magic on quil then tries to shove him toward abraham
MORDECAI
when the last light warms the rocks and the rattlesnakes unfold
mountain cats will come along to drag away your bones
The attack comes out of nowhere. One moment, the prince is staring dejectedly at the choppy waters of the sea; the next, his ear is swiveling to catch the slightest shift of sand from behind him.
A great many things happen then in quick succession.
A burst of pain explodes in the prince's right hind leg. His wings fly open suddenly in reaction, an angry, frightened scream bursting from his lips. A shadow blurs beside him, its horns drilling into feathers instead of femur. If the prince is lucky, his involuntary movement will have buffeted his attacker in the face. From above, a gold flash plucks a screeching Zarina from the stallion's back; a white flare precedes a sudden rush of flame. The prince shies away, to his left, trying to escape both the unicorn attacker and its dragon. He is too slow, and fire blisters the right side of his face from poll to nose.
Zarina! he shouts inside his mind (or did he yell it out loud?), desperation turning to panic as he catches a glimpse of her clutched within the dragon's talons with his left eye. His right has been rendered useless by the dragon's flame. His thoughts are muddled, confused - who is it that attacks, and why? What has he done to elicit such a reaction from someone? His right hind hovers uselessly above the sand, unable to bear his weight; his right wing is bleeding heavily, a horn torn into the flesh. Feathers fall, floating and spiraling gently downward to land hopelessly upon the sand. He will not escape to the skies. A part of him realizes already that he will not escape, but self-preservation refuses to allow him to give in so easily. His face is on fire - if not literally, then figuratively, for already the second-degree burns have exposed the muscles of his cranium and destroyed his eye.
All of this - the initial attack, his reaction, his comprehension of his injuries - takes mere seconds. Excruciating pain is all that he knows, but somehow he tries to turn away, as though maybe he can limp away to safety. There is no thought, no coherent plan - there is nothing but pain. Zarina is screaming in his mind, but he can't make out the words, can't quite understand her meaning. Everything they have been through, everything they have weathered, it has all been for nothing -
His blood boils in his veins, and a tortured shriek climbs into the dark sky above. He barely feels the shove from his left. Suddenly he collapses, writhing in the sand, his entire body burning from the inside out, as though acid had taken over his circulatory system and become intent on eating away at him until there is nothing left. The torment seems to go on for hours, days, weeks, until he can no longer tell where he is. Perhaps he is back in Th'orqui, perhaps this is the end that the Anarchists had envisioned for him all those years ago. Perhaps Helovia had been a dream, a manifestation of his will to survive. Perhaps none of it had ever been real.
He doesn't care anymore.
His voice has long since gone silent, his throat hoarse from his screams of pain. Everything hurts, and even Zarina has gone silent. If she is dead - if her half of his soul has been ripped away - that pain has been overshadowed by his own. He can't find her. He can't find anything.
"End it," he rasps, his voice betraying the cancer of depression that has swallowed him. "Please," he begs.