"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.
11-08-2016, 07:56 PM (This post was last modified: 11-15-2016, 11:22 PM by Blu.)
AITHNIEL
She watched and waited, knowing she would have to act soon. Every beat of her heart urged her to make this choice – to do something for once in her life. Aithniel felt the Sun God, whether or not he approved, and she had to make him proud. This strange water god showing up only hastened her emotions, urging her to make sure that the herd she called home was protected. Having children did that to a mind. Regardless of her nature for communal raising, she was responsible for them and their lives. Thus, she owed it to everyone to keep the herd safe.
Aithniel wasn’t Gaucho, and she knew she would never fill that place. But, at least she was a warrior. The Sun God ran in her veins, and she served long enough to know what is good and just in the world. She knew what it took for success, and frankly, this healer, wasn’t it. She had tried and failed – even gone so far to appoint an older mare as a spy who seemed only partially interested in the job. Aith knew of Ophelia, of her skill, but why were the ranks so empty? Where were the others? The healers?
They would need them soon – she felt it in her very bones. Nothing in Helovia stayed peaceful for long, and the patrols had all but stopped. She had no idea about the state of the keys- who had them or not. As far as she knew, Sikeax had never spoken to Ophelia about them, and far too many were getting in and out without access. Everything was messy, and if Gaucho’s leadership taught her one thing it was that chaos got you killed.
Even if she wasn’t the right person for the job, Aithniel would appoint someone who was. Sikeax seemed to have let leadership go to her head – perhaps blinded by power. The sun child would never let herself get so consumed, and if she did, she knew that Ampere, Tae and the others would hold her accountable just as she was doing now. This was her one shot, and she was taking it firmly and without hesitation. Everyone else would have to fall in line.
“Sikeax!” she bellowed, marching along the sands in the Dragon’s Throat. The cold air was chilling, but she had the fire in her soul to keep her warm. “I hereby condemn you by holy writ of the Sun God to step down. Should you fail to conform, I will take your crown by force.” There was no jest in her stony, silver eyes. No compassion. No mercy. Aithniel was the inquisitor. She was the be-all-end-all. Alpha and omega. Darkness and light.
"I'm sorry but I'd rather be getting high than watching my family die"
Had this been any other time, then possibly Aithniel might have been greeted with something entirely different. A sense of passion, a desire to thrust her into battle so gallantly without even a second thought at the drive to show that Sikeax intended to take up her title as militarist Sultana with great will, at least the lingering feeling of hatred that had inhabited the dark, closed-off rooms of her head due to the mare’s treatment of her first child that Hobgoblin could have taken like a drug to urge her into battle.
But she is broken like glass, shattering further with each step because the Dragon’s Throat that she is being forced to lead is nothing near the one that she had loved so dearly. Friendly faces know looked upon her as if their eyes could open canyons in her.
She’s not their queen, and it’s obvious more now than ever it was. Aithniel’s voice drives the nail into the wood, a hammer that claims justice be weighed down atop her shoulders.
And yet where is the trial? Where are her accusations? What has she done wrong other than mourn with the herd, a basic thing that she is now denied while everyone around her does so? “Stupid bird.”
Hobgoblin’s chiming does nothing to ease out the cold, stiff expression etched into the bones that sculpt her face. Glaciers fill up her eye sockets, tracing any motion that the winged mare makes as she wails useless words into the air that fall into the caves of her ears, empty. We are no longer part of the Dragon’s Throat.
Nothing rolls out of her brother. Silence replaces itself with dread as she holds her ground with locked knees, drowning in the unsteadiness of his loss of vibrancy. “I’ve failed.” Each syllable slips off of her tongue like she intends to feel some sort of sadness with it, but Sikeax has always been pure, been raw, been wild with her emotions, and there are no tears to accompany what she tries to perceive. “I’ve failed in succumbing to what you want because you give me no obvious reason to step down. But you?”
Anticipation bubbles in the upper reaches of her rib cage, like smoke rising from a volcano against her spine as Hobgoblin hunts for a place to thrive in her, not exactly desperate but needy. “You and this entire herd, you have failed Gaucho and the Sun God.”
Wildfire ignites. Searing hot passion courses in her veins like lava as a voice burns through her. “DESTROY.”
Has she not always been the one to take orders, so who is she to deny a simple request?
OOC: hardcore rushed oops.
Sikeax accepts the challenge and allows Aithniel to have the first attack. She's standing no more than 40ft from Aith and watching at the moment.
Attack: 0/4
Hobgoblin Form: Serval, standing off to the side.
Word Count: 451
also if you have any trouble reading this table or anything let me know so I can switch over to something else!
Perhaps if more than one face looked upon their failed queen with contempt, she should look upon this challenge as a statistical inevitability. With so many unhappy subjects, it was only a matter of time before someone rose up to take back the once-great mantle of Sultana. In the face of this hatred, wouldn’t she actually consider that she was the problem? That her failures were her ultimate undoing? Aithniel was simply the hand of the weary and angry, acting as a vessel to fulfill their desires, and she was honored to be the one to act.
Zerachiel stood firm by her side, the gold and white griffin nearly full grown and capable of wielding firepower which rivaled her own magic. His golden, hawk’s eyes and tufted ears were focused on their enemy, and with true purity, his righteous anger knew no personal slights. He was a tool and a weapon and bonded by soul and energy to his Aithniel - his dark light. She felt empowered by this bond to her bloody angel, glad to have him by her side.
Aithniel stood firm upon the sands of her father’s land, her toes churning in the earth where she was hatched. The sunlight beat down upon her pale back, giving her life and strength to do what she must despite the consequences of her actions. But, she was the judge, jury and executioner. Her counsel had already met, and she had passed judgment without an interview because some actions spoke much louder than flimsy, pathetic words. What good were the enemy’s pleas when her heart was deaf to their purpose?
But speak she did, and Aithniel raised a brow in amusement when she admitted to failure and then pulled a childish “failed to do what you want” as if a drum riff should follow her pointed statement. The sun child chuckled to herself, a brutal grin curving her dark lips as the girl continued to tell her that she was the one who failed Gaucho and the Sun God. She tossed her head back in mirth, black and gold mane billowing behind her neck.
“Funny, I just spoke with my father, the God of the Sun, and he said no such thing. In fact, he mentioned that he was proud of me. As for Gaucho…” she trailed, taking a lethal step forward with a grin more feral than excited. “He fucked twins into my womb which I birthed to carry on his name. I will avenge his legacy as the Sultan and promote his legacy through my very body.” Her lion tail whipped behind her hips, the long tassels shaking in the light breeze. Every nerve was alight with anticipation, singing that this was her destiny.
“So you see,” she trailed, her voice almost bored now as her expression returned to stone. “If there is a failure among the two of is, ‘tis not I. I was not the one who allowed another to steal from our noble herd by not promoting anyone to the ranks or organizing. While I have been watching the state of Helovia and the presence of a new god, where have you been? We have no healers. Ophelia had to fill in to protect us, and our warriors are thin and lazy. You are unfit to lead by virtue of your own failures.”
The demi-god’s ears flattened against her skull, ivory teeth bared. “I take this as your failure to conform, Sikeax, and I am pleased. Gaucho deserved for his vengeance to end in blood.”
Aithniel took another step forward and Zerachiel took flight, circling with talons extended and flames tickling the sharp tips. Aith expanded her gold banded wings and thrust her own body in the air, causing sand and dust to spiral in the vortex of the thrust. Once lifted by the wind, she summoned her magic and called forth the flames of her father, and with a thought, she sent a rail of flame toward where Sikeax stood.
Her soul was hungry for Sikeax’s pain, and she watched with narrowed, silver eyes to see if her attack would land. Failure was not an option. She would fight until her last breath, and she had never felt this drive before. This was pure passion fueled by righteousness. Aithniel was a holy warrior, and by her sword, she would bring justice. Zera joined in this song of fire, aiming his fury at the cat nearby with talons open wide. He swept down, attempting to grab the cat and burn its flesh with his magic.
Was this what the Sun God felt like? How did he resist setting the world on fire?