"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.
11-27-2016, 11:47 AM (This post was last modified: 11-27-2016, 11:48 AM by Tembovu.)
They say an elephant’s eyes speak the greatest language
Frostfall came quickly, it’s blanket of cold and white leaving no question of the season change. There was no gradual shift to the freezing weather, no light dusting of snowflakes. No, it was immediate inundation of wintery weather. Icicles twinkled from the Rotunda’s ruined dome while a layer of ice coated the crumbling columns. Despite it’s cracked and broken-down state, the ancient building had a stately beauty in the frost.
The King’s ears swiveled all directions, navy eyes closely studying all of the long shadows cast by the sinking sun in the dead and dormant shrubbery. Only evergreens retained their needles—for which the Elephant was vaguely annoyed in the moment for it blocked his futile searching. The Rotunda’s charm was lost on his busy, purposeful gaze; large, ivory hooves leaving meandering tracks that marked his search for his son.
“Kianzo!” His deep call rumbled, shaking loose some precariously perched snow from a few tree boughs. Thick, black and ivory limbs lurched to a halt alongside the ice-shrouded columns and collapsing stairs. His black-rimed ears tilted backwards, the dark dot on them bright against the white skin. His coat had grown thick and shaggy this year, finally accustomed to creating a winter coat in the Edge’s cold, wet climate. His silvered buckskin had become dark and rich with the added length and thickness, adding warm golden hues to his hide.
But his own comfort in his newly thick coat only renewed and deepened the worry that creased his black-marked face. The skin around his eyes was drawn and lined, jaw set and lips tightly pursed. If it had taken the King years to adjust to the cold weather, a young foal certainly would not handle it well…
He shook his head slightly, unwilling to turn his thoughts in the direction of death. Rexanna seemed certain that Kianzo lived. And Kiada, despite her surly mood and pained loneliness, seemed more angry than concerned about her twin.
A deep sigh pushed out of his thick nostrils as he struck at the stairs with his hoof, sending rivulets of cracks throughout the ice.
What else could make you feel so much without a word?
She was searching too, and her heart began to thrum wildly within her broad chest as she looked so desperately for her little angel. Miykael had not been as helpful in finding their child, and even though deep down it enraged her to see him not trying, she supposed she couldn't blame him; he had been used to his children leaving him after all. But December could not fathom losing her little Merialeth, the bubble of joy who had somehow finally gotten away from her watchful eye and Carl's presence, leaving her frantic and desperate to find her. Her frazzled, motherly mind was in denial about the fact that the painted princess had been gone a lot longer than just a few days. Soon she was running, the panic beginning to bloom as her deepest fears and worries bubbled within her mind before she could stop them.
Her mind was frantic and Carl could do nothing to ease her calm, despite keeping pace with her massive bulk and attempting to grasp her attention. He could feel it between their bond that this was slowly killing her each day, losing the most precious thing she had in the world, and with the events of Isara, she didn't know what to expect of the sudden disappearance of her only baby. Without another thought she croaked a desperate cry, her tone exuding the anguish she felt of not having her Meria here,"MERIALETH!" What she hadn't expected was the sound of another name being called from a man's voice, causing her ears to prick and for her to search desperately for the source.
He had lost someone too, and it pulled at her heartstrings so deeply, to the point where her normal expressionless complexion was filled with hope and pain and the possibility that maybe their loved ones were lost together. Funny how such desperation could drive you to such delusions. Her ivory frame skidded to a halt as she approached the rotunda, looking at the bulky man before her, whose markings she hadn't seen before. She studied them quietly, curiously as she always did, before finally acknowledging the reason she had run to him, and approaching quicker than she normally would.
"Are you looking for someone too? Perhaps we can search together. It covers more ground that way," she wasn't thinking about manners at this point, wasn't registering that maybe he was doing this on his own for a reason, but she still held on to that desperate plea that maybe it was all a game, and her daughter would pop out from behind the bushes with a cheerful 'Boo!' before giggling and telling her Mama that she had been waiting for her to find her this entire time. Because the dark corners of her mind were taunting her, telling her to stop with her foolish fantasies and face the fact that Meria was gone for good, and it was all because of her. Because the one thing she loved more than anything else didn't actually love her at all.
Howl found himself drawn to the beautiful Rotunda once again, however this time he was accompanied by a little cloud of leaf-winged butterflies. They fluttered delicately around him as he made his way through the snow. It had taken him weeks of concentration to develop his creations, painstakingly exercising the new muscle in his brain which ruled his magic. The last time he had come to the rotunda, the grey had been only able to craft one feeble creature which fluttered tremulously on flimsy wings. Now, they twirled and dipped and danced all around him, catching the dusk sunlight with leafs of varying shades of brown and rust. Now that snow obscured everything in sight, it was quite difficult to acquire leaves of sufficient quality to supplement his magic. The ones he did find were tucked carefully into his mane, only to be used when the extant creatures inevitably fell apart.
As he had been distracted by the gold-marked stallion on his previous visit, Howl had not been able to investigate the interior of the regal structure. With a sense of conviction only the chronically curious are able to feel, the stag approached the building, nose thrust confidently ahead of him. One dark hoof was placed hesitantly on a cracked step—after a moment of complete and utter silence, another followed, and then another, until his entire form was perched over the steps, swaying with an air of uncertainty. Would some strange god come down to smite him if he entered the shrine? The grey watched the wavering fabric intently, sometimes catching glimpses of the jewel-bright colors dancing on the Rotunda's floor between the gaps in the drapes. Both forelegs placed securely on the top step, he pitched his weight forwards, pushing his face between the pale curtains before him. When he ascertained that there were no idols or any other religious symbols housed within the structure, the rest of his body followed. Almost surreptitiously, as if intruding in some sacred space, Howl and his fluttering retinue moved through the Rotunda. A million shards of colors played on his otherwise drab coat, shifting with every minute movement he made.
The rustle of hooves through fresh snow somewhere outside interrupted the grey's musings. He almost let them pass without a reaction on his part, but a call followed the hooves, a deep roar which echoed against the granite and stone of the shrine. Kianzo. Howl's ears tilted backwards, casting an expression of uncertainty on his slender face. What was that? Although he had learned a great deal of the Common Tongue since he was a child—to the point where he bore no perceivable accent—there were many words he was not familiar with. Was Kianzo a name? Or perhaps a greeting of sorts? As far as he knew, the deep-voiced stranger was not aware of his presence, so he made the decision to peek through the drapes in order to determine his next course of action. Due to his lengthy horn, it was quite difficult to remain incognito, so he shoved his face through the curtains without any pretense of stealth.
Before the Rotunda was a creature of considerable mass and strange coloring; a stallion that recalled a more primal nature—he was closer to the wild than any other horse Howl had ever seen. The stranger seemed quite agitated, a distraught expression playing on the long lines of his face. He lingered by the stairs, a massive hoof colliding with the structure with a force that seemed to Howl to almost make the entire building tremble. Although he had the good fortune to not have encountered any ill-willed souls during his time in Helovia, he always thought it prudent to be cautious around strangers, especially ones that could easily crush him beneath a single hoof. However, before he could attempt any sort of greeting, another voice rang through the dusky winter glade, this time more feminine in tone. Moments later, a pale mare came into view, not as tall as the stallion, but perhaps just as substantially built. She spoke of searching for someone, which elucidated the entire situation for Howl—Kianzo and Merialeth, and that explained why both of them seemed so fraught. His head still thrust between the two drapes, Howl cleared his throat politely, as to not startle the two. "Excuse me," he began, watching both giants with both curiosity and concern. "Can I be of any help?"
My sandpaper sigh engraves a line into the rust of your tongue
omg sorry for the completely unnecessary length. ;__; the last two paragraphs are all you have to read.
12-04-2016, 03:06 PM (This post was last modified: 12-04-2016, 03:07 PM by Tembovu.)
They say an elephant’s eyes speak the greatest language
His ears swung forward, catching another’s call. Though the snow dampened the call so that he could not quite make out the words, the King could make out the desperate tone with which it was shouted. His head rose from his disappointed, worried level at his withers, navy eyes probing the barren mostly trunks around him—there.
From the trees appeared a grey mare, tall and solidly built with dark and thick limbs— but it was nor her frame that attracted his eyes. No. It was the hopeful pain that twisted her face and lined her dark eyes. A soft breath pushed out of his thick nostrils, clinging as a cloud around his pale muzzle as his cupped ears caught her words—an offer of help paired with a hopeful favor, a combination that only one who has lost something dear can fully understand.
But, before he could respond another spoke—and the King realized his great bellows had likely drawn more attentions than the one he had been seeking. Though, a father searching for a son has (understandable) tunnel vision. His navy eyes left the painful hope of the mare’s face, finding a grey man standing in the Rotunda, wreathed in cloud-like moths and multicolored light. The Elephant’s tunnel vision from earlier must have prevented him from seeing the stallion—indeed the grey coat could be made to blend into the ice-coated ruins if one looked at it just right.
Navy eyes glance between each antler and the horn sprouting from between his eyes. Three horns? Nothing of the sort had existed in Dorobo—though certainly it would have been praised as a godly fortune in his homeland. But the Elephant does not spend much time on thoughts of his distant home (though Helovia was more his home, now), instead focusing on the two horses around him.
“I am searching for Kianzo, my son. He is marked similar to me, but gold, and not more than three seasons old. Have you seen him?” his deep voice rumbled, painted with worried concern, before he turned to the mare, “I would be happy to help each other search. Who is it you seek?” His head tilted, and though his eyes remained trained on those he spoke to, his ears were forever swiveling—listening for sounds in the forest around them.
Then, as an afterthought, he added, “I am Tembovu, King of the Edge.” He hadn’t entirely meant to tack on his title at the end, it more slipped out as a matter of habit.
What else could make you feel so much without a word?
Before the giant can reply to her plea another has spoken, looking to them both with gentle eyes and a kind question. He wanted to help too. Her eyes filled with hope and gratitude, her emotional barrier down for only this time, because her desperation to find her child would forever overlap trying to keep the walls up. She missed her so much it hurt, it shook her to the core to think that something could be terribly wrong with her baby. With steel eyes glimmering with unshed tears, she listened to the creamy monster, watching him silently as he was looking for his son, his own baby. They had more of a relation than she had thought previously. As soon as he had finished his question she was speaking, trying to keep her tone even, but the panic was laced within every syllable,"My daughter, Merialeth. She's a brown and white filly with gold stripes on her legs and around her eyes."
"I am December," she breathed briefly, before she was suddenly moving away from the two with a spark of determination in her eye. She didn't just have one child to save now, but two, and the mare would stop at nothing to try and find them. Her steps were loud as she broke through the foliage, hoping that perhaps the noise would let them know that someone was coming to help them, to save them from the cold and take them home. Her ears were constantly swiveling to catch any sound out of the ordinary, and she was adamant on looking over every leaf, studying each rock in hopes for any clue. She understood what it was like to lose your child, to not know as each day passed by if your baby was dead or alive. She had begun to feel less and less alive as time continued without the sight of her little girls eyes looking up into hers happily. She couldn't lose hope, couldn't give up when there was always one slim chance that she could see Meria again.
@Howl@Tembovu - sorry it's short, but I wanted to know if we'd actually be finding Kianzo or if we come up empty handed. I know December kinda just bolted to randomly look, but if Temb wants to give out suggestions or orders that's fine too. Waiting for orders whenever you're ready!