"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.
His great wingspan pumped a few times; the cooler weather meant thick air (which was easier to fly in) but less thermals (which were harder for him to glide on). The vulture’s wings were meant for gliding, not flapping, and it showed as sweat darkened his tawny hide to a deep red. “Ek mis die Korofi winde,” his gruff voice called back to the colorful woman who flew back to the Edge with him. Indeed, the plateaus had been where he had grown up, where he had learned to fly. They were much more manageable for that reason, alone.
His gaze wandered (often) towards Saar, his eyes following the elegant curve of her neck to the the flashy pumps of her own, brightly colored wings. On the ground or in the skies, her lithe form was forever pleasant to the eyes.
He sighed, right wing flexing slightly to correct for crookedness his wandering eyes had caused in his flight. “There is the World’s Edge. Just at the ocean’s Edge are the sea cliffs, unlike anything in Dorobo,” his hooves skimmed the tops of the trees as he began to dip closer, looking for a place to land near the borders, “They are pragtige.” He glanced purposefully at the woman, as if implying that her beauty belonged with the cliffs, before returning his gaze to look for a place to land.
He found none at the borders, instead gliding further beyond the glass-littered edge and sinking out of the skies near the Edge’s heart. He looked at the lilac tent that stood as a meeting place. Glancing towards the lake, he looked back to see if the woman had followed him, “Do you need water, soet kleur?” he paused, grinning slightly, “Or are you thirsty for something else?”
Ek mis die Korofi winde = I miss the Korofi winds.
pragtige = beautiful
soet kleur = sweet color
Saartjie was happy to leave the Threshold and her jerk of a brother behind. He'd really hurt her with his hoer comment and she'd meant what she'd said when she told him that she hoped he had a heat stroke. She also hoped a scorpion stung him someplace extremely sensitive. Thankfully Gaal's voice drew her out of her loathing and she glanced over at him. "Ons kon teruggaan." She said. "En maak ons eie trop." But she could never leave Jata behind, no matter how angry he made her. "Just us." It wouldn't stop her from thinking about it, or talking about it from time to time, especially when she was mad at him.
It was hard for her not to notice that Gaal's gaze often drifted toward her as they flew. There was the blatant staring along with the way he had to correct himself because he would begin to fly crooked. As he looked to her another time she turned her head so she could catch his eye and she smiled. "One day you're going to fly into a tree." As she spoke her wings tilted so that she drifted closer to him, and when she flapped her wings the tips of her feathers brushed against his side. "I would hate to see you hurt, lekker."
The Edge was much different than anything that Saartjie had seen before and she decided quickly that Gaal hadn't been exaggerating when he'd said that the place was beautiful. Her hooves touched the ground and she folded her multi-colored wings against her sides as she looked around. She took note of certain things as they descended toward the ground -- the broken glass wall being one of them. She assumed that that marked the border, but it was of little importance to her right then. As Gaal walked farther into the Edge she followed behind him, but when the tent and lake came into view she paused.
Beautiful.
Gaal's voice when he asked if she needed water... or if she was thirsty for something else. "I think, right now, I would like some water." She answered, but she couldn't let the opportunity that she had to drive Gaal crazy slip away. "Vanaand kan jy my ander dors te les." She purred as she brushed past him.
"."
Translation:
ons kon teruggaan - we could go back
en maak ons eie trop - and make our own herd
lekker - yummy
Vanaand kan jy my ander dors te les - you can satisfy my other thirst tonight
Love left me hollow I'm with you in the end Cold, crippled and shallow Don't leave me here again
He felt the whisper of her wingtips resonate in his groin; and the warmth feeling did not leave, despite the cool air that rushed over him. He sighed and then growled softly; time had erased the feelings of frustration Saar had given him, instead leaving him only with the longing and the pleasing, sensual memories they had shared. But now, as they flew, her nearly intolerable and painful teasing began to return to him. How uncomfortably taunt his family jewels had been whenever they spent time together.
But, still, her murmured words gave promise, as she always did, of them. Of an ‘us.’ Which, to the vulture, translated to intimate times finally spent together. But, regardless, his gaze left her the moment she mentioned actually returning to Dorobo. And his ears tilted back, a combination of annoyance and disgrace, even as she playfully used her nickname for him.
Only when they were landed did he speak again, “I cannot go back, Saartje,” his gruff voice was serious, as was his use of her full name, “You know this.” He shook his bearded head slightly, to rid himself of the unpleasant sensations thoughts of returning to the plateaus gave him. (To face his maimed stepmother; to see the unmarked earth where true mother laid; to look into his father’s infuriated eyes…)
His ears perked forward as she answered his question, his own feathered hooves following her as she approached the water’s edge. “I’d be happy to show you the Edge’s finest hospitality, this evening,” his rough voice was back to playful as he answered her teasing words in kind, muzzle reaching out to gently brush the tufts of his beard along her haunches and dock.
Dark, cobalt gaze drawn upwards, peering between the misted branches as not one but two shadows passed over him. One was large—disquietingly so—and the other was nimbly darting close to the other one in the moments the King caught them through the trees. The fog blurred their forms, but the tawny colors of one must be Graasvoel, the Korofi that hovered at the edges of the herd, never quite committing to being fully apart of the Edge.
The other shadow he did not know. It was bright, gleaming with color. Perhaps a new member? His chest lightened at the though, wondering if the giant pegasus man was, in fact, recruiting for the Edge. Maybe the Elephant was not giving the man enough credit. Maybe he was apart of the Edge, just in ways different than other members showed.
Regardless of these uplifting thoughts, his thick lips pursed in a slight frown as Graasvoel and his consort flew past the Edge’s borders. New members were welcomed at the broken glass, not deep within the herdland’s heart. He snorted loudly, picking up a brisk and earth-shaking trot to follow the pair from the ground. He relied on Mbwene’s eyes to guide him on the ground as his navy eyes craned upwards, peering through the branches to catch sight of the wayward winged ones.
Broaching the clearing, it was apparent that the two had rested there for a few moments before his arrival. The sweat was already drying in a few salt streaked patches on the hairy behemoth’s tawny hide. “Graasvoel, we greet newcomers at the Edge’s borders,” his low rumble called in gentle rebuke across the expanse of drying grass.
His hooves slowed to walk as he approached, heavily horned head dipping in greeting to the brightly colored woman whose markings and build plainly marked her as Korofi. “Welcome to the Edge. I am Tembovu, King here,” his rumbled again, a lopsided grin hitching his muzzle, “Your colorful and lovely, markings tell me you are of the Korofi?” His massive head cocked slightly as he awaited an answer of the vibrant woman. Mbwene slowly approached her, trunk outstretched and asking if she could touch her colorful skin. She had learned from the glass-woman to not run up and poke strangers to the Edge.
The use of her full name and not just Saar or soet kleur spoke volumes of just how serious Gaal was about not returning to Dorobo. Of course she knew that he couldn't go back, she had been the one to urge him to leave Dorobo after the altercation with his false mother. If anyone in the House of Laws knew that she'd done so they'd have her head but ... some laws were meant to be broken and the bitch had it coming. "I know." She finally spoke. "I told you to leave, remember? Besides, you couldn't possibly think that I was serious about going back?"
The mood lightened considerably as they walked toward the lake, and the feel of his beard brushing against her elicited a soft giggle from the dainty mare. "Is that a promise, lekker?" She purred as she looked back over her shoulder at the man. She flicked her tail at him, but a second voice, one that scolded Gaal for bringing her so far into the Edge had the mare turning and her features became rigid almost instantly. It was no secret that she was not fond of unicorns, in fact she found most of them to be loathesome creatures. But this one. This one screamed of Dorobo.
Tembovu.
It was a name that a great deal of the Korofi knew from hearsay and rumors. Even if she hadn't known his name, the fact that he knew of Dorobo and the Korofi alone was enough to agitate her. She turned her gaze back on Gaal, her eyes cutting and accusatory. "Graasovel. Jy woon hier saam met die Banderi?" She demanded. "Aan jou nie dink wat hulle gedoen het om ons te?" But then she remembered that he had left before the worst of the fighting had found the Korofi and left their warriors bloodied messes at best and corpses rotting in the desert sun at the worst.
"I know who you are." She said to the king and as she turned her head to look at him she saw the little elephant approaching her with its trunk outstretched. Her ears fell back and she snorted a warning that the tiny beast not to touch her. "Elephant General."
"."
Translation:
Jy woon hier saam die banderi - you live here with the banderi
Aan jou nie dink wat hulle gedoen het om ons te - do you not remember what they did to us
Love left me hollow I'm with you in the end Cold, crippled and shallow Don't leave me here again
10-07-2016, 05:45 PM (This post was last modified: 10-07-2016, 05:47 PM by Graasvoel.)
Her soft giggle and her purred ”Is that a promise, lekker?” did little to ease the uncomfortable sensation radiating from his groin. It was too hot and tight to handle such suggestions from the House of Law’s colorful jewel. He snorted against her teasing tail flick, his own jaws parting to nip her haunches as he began to pursue her into the water. The liquid was much cooler with the turn of the season, and felt good against his dried-sweat hide; the feathers of his feet floated, weightless, in the clear water. “Dit is nie ek wat moet belowe,” he muttered slightly under his breath as he pursued her, remembering full well that it was always she that ended their romantic endeavors before he was ever fully satisfied.
But before their playful flirtations could grow any less playful, a deep voice rumbled from behind them. It was a signature voice, easily recognized and rarely missed whenever spoken. A sigh gusted out of his dark muzzle—foiled again. Though the vulture had the wherewithal to look contrite (if still mildly irritated) by his King’s rebuke. “Apologies, my King,” he offhandedly muttered— though it was covered by Saar’s glare and accusatory words.
The vulture shifted uneasily once, raptor stare darting from Elephant to Korofi woman, “Hy is nie Banderi, hy is Koning,” his words were slightly pleading, until they grew bitter as he spoke his next, “En hy het niks gedoen om my.” His implication was clear: the vulture was no longer of his Korofi family. He had renounced his family and no longer lumped himself with the Kahare House.
And at her next words to the Elephant King, a slight and uncharactirsic tension began to gather around his black-marked eyes. “Asseblief, soet kleur,” his murmur was quiet, pleading, as his muzzle reached out to gently nuzzle and lip her mane and shoulder, “Jy tot dusver het gereis, gee hom 'n kans.”
Then, turning his attention to his king, he spoke in the common tongue, “This is Saartjie, of the Senzaok House. I know her from Korofi.” He thought to add that she wished to find a home in the Edge—but he knew better than to speak on behalf of fierce Korofi women.
Dit is nie ek wat moet below = It is not I who must promise.
Hy is nie Banderi, hy is Koning = He is not Banderi, he is King
En hy het niks gedoen om my = And he has done nothing to me.
Asseblief, soet kleur, gee hom 'n kans= Please, sweet color.
Jy tot dusver het gereis, gee hom 'n rans = You've traveled so far, give him a chance
10-10-2016, 05:49 PM (This post was last modified: 10-10-2016, 05:49 PM by Tembovu.)
the elephant king
The King would have to be both blind and deaf to miss the jewel-colored Korofi’s accusatory glare at the hulking man beside her or the dare in her voice as she spoke unceremoniously to himself. His black brows raised slightly—it had been so long since he had been in the fiery presence of the fierce Korofi (Graasvoel as an exception to the rule; he was not like most from the plateaus). His ears sweep forward, dark navy gaze sweeping between the two brightly colored winged ones as the vulture apologized and then spoke in their native Korofi tongue to the woman.
Though the plains-borne stallion was not fluent in the plateau’s strange tongue, he knew enough to catch bits and pieces of his conversation with the fiercely proud woman. Mbwene, properly warned away by the bright woman’s pinned ears, trumpeted loudly and indignantly at her before turning on heel and marching back to Tembovu’s side, tasseled tail pertly twitching. She go. He mental command resounded with irritation between their bond.
He glanced down at his companion, head shaking slightly in denial of her demand. And, with a glower, the small matriarch stomped her rounded feet towards a patch of still green shrubs and began forcefully shoving them into her mouth.
Returning his attention to Graasvoel as the tawny colored man introduced the woman, he dipped his horn fractionally in recognition of the familial name. “Though I am sure the pleasure is mine alone, Saartjie, I still welcome you to make the Edge your home,” his voice vibrated with amusement, for it was apparent that the Korofi woman would find no pleasure in making the King’s acquaintance—and he would rather invite amusement than argument over this face. “I do not know all of the Korofi houses, but I did speak with Kunja of the Mopeli house, on occasion. And—“ he broke off, eyes crinkling in recollection, “I believe I spoke with a Sahib, who was of the Senzaok house?” He ended on a question, looking at Saartjie for either affirmation or negation of his memory.
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