"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 hooves rained down upon her chest and shoulder as she shied away from his panicked flailing, ducking away and skittering to the side so that she could turn to face him squarely. Everything on her hurt. The bite on her left side had all but dried, but her torn left ear still bled, its trail reaching all the way down her neck through her sweat. Both shoulders now were bruised, and the rest of her ached from various impacts. Even so, she would never have wished upon him what she saw when she faced him once more.
A gasp left her in a rush, and then she was charging toward him with a pained cry. “Oh, Cera!” Unless he moved to chase her away again (which, let’s be honest, was probably the likely scenario to follow her gouging out his eye), she would hover beside him, trying to peer into his face and make sure his eye was, in fact, still in its socket. The pale lady had never seen so much blood, and she was suddenly queasy with the knowledge that she had done this. The world started to spin – so much blood, it tasted wrong on her tongue, why was everything so red –
“Cera,” she whimpered again. “Oh, gods, I’m so sorry, I’ll get help, I’ll go, I –“ But there was no one to help them anymore, now that Sikeax had lost her healing power and there was no one below her to ascend into her rank. Gods ,why didn’t she know more about healing? If only there was an herb she could grab, a poultice she could make – but there was nothing. All she could do was stand and stare.
And, honestly, she’d probably only manage to get herself kicked in the face that way.
Oddly, Cera is reminded of the caverns in the Heart as the crystalline woman whirls to face him again, the world clouded by red and pain and confusion. Hiding in the dark, fearful of the world above, the creatures looming beyond their front door. How they had cowered, without sunlight, without borders. United as one in their fight for life, trying to keep faith that the Gods would not abandon them to their earthen grave. The world is askew with only one working eye, and his head sways unnaturally back and forth, confusion whimpering on his tongue as he tries to shake the ringing in his ears from the impact of her teeth on his face. He's coated in blood - face wounds bleed heavily, child, staunch them quickly - he can hear Midas crooning softly, but it does nothing to ease the pain. In fact it only makes his heart cry louder in supplication, begging for deliverance from the pain of losing everyone he'd ever loved.
Her cry of his name precedes her rush to him and he does not attack her, this blow the last he can weather as his rage shatters and dissipates into hurt and defensiveness. He cringes from her, just as unsure of her motives as she is of his. But as her words blubber forth, and she comes to the same realization as he, Cera can't help but start to laugh softly. It peters out and then begins to build upon itself once again, louder and louder, until it's hysterical. Until the laughter becomes tears, blood running against his face as it mixes with his tears. Salt in the wound. Hurting himself with his own emotions. How poetic, considering what had just transpired between the two of them.
"There's nothing," he murmured helplessly, still hiccuping laughter through his tears. "There's nobody, Sohalia. Nobody can fix this." His eye. His heart. His family. Nobody existed that could fix any of it, right now.
He turned his watery green eyes to her, simply tired now. Aching. Hurting. She was both the weights tied to his ankle and the life preserver, and he wasn't sure whether to let the water consume him and drag him down or try and reach out for her one more time. Simply stood staring trying to figure out where to go next, after this. After everyone and everything.
"You were the closest thing I ever had to a mother," he whispered dully, almost stoically if it weren't for the exhaustion exhaling on his breaths as he speaks. "You never even told me why you left. Never apologized. What was I supposed to do with that? What do you want from me anymore, Sohalia?" A hiccup of a sob tried to crawl from his throat and he crushed it hatefully in his windpipe. He was no boy anymore. It was time to stop acting like one.
"To bear this weight forever? To watch everyone leave me over and over again without being hurt by it? Do you expect me to be godlike, to never snap? To never hate? WHY DOES EVERYONE EXPECT ME TO BE FORGIVING AFTER ALL THIS TIME?!" The words screamed out from his torn throat, and he turned and flung his head away from her, blood spraying all out across the sand, as if it needed to be tainted by any more blood now. "WHY DOES EVERYONE ELSE GET TO MAKE MISTAKES?! Why do you all need me to be the good one, the happy one? WHO MADE THAT MY JOB?!" And the bellowing of his anger and his hurt echoed across the sands louder than he'd ever managed before. Until even the echoes were silent and he was just left with the shattered picture frames his angry fists had torn apart, hating himself for touching the last remains of something good and pure he still had in his grasp.
And his shoulders shook, too much of a man now to let himself cry, but too childlike in his heart to bear the burden on his small shoulders any longer.
The words fell from her lips in a broken whisper, tears finally cresting her clenched lids to trickle down her cheeks. Despite the physical pain - and gods, it hurt - it was the pure emotion that @Cera exuded that finally broke the bewildered dove. His words rained down on her, ice shards stabbing into flesh that was far too tender to withstand the onslaught. When would it end? Had she not borne enough pain in this life already? To shoulder this, to add to her many sins the crime of betrayal, the transgression of abandonment - to know that her actions left such a deep scar even in this stallion, in sweet Cera, in the colt that she had cared so deeply for but never known he viewed her the same - this was too much to bear, and beneath the weight of this new yoke she found herself collapsing, buckling until suddenly she was lying in the dirt with no memory of how she managed to fall.
"You're right," she croaked again, her voice breaking and her her eyes overflowing. "You have every right to be angry. You have every right to hate me - you never deserved this pain, Cera. You didn't deserve any of this." And then she was sobbing, her shoulders shaking violently. The taste of his blood lingered still on her tongue, and as her head began to spin again and her stomach began to revolt, she staggered sideways, moving away from him - she didn't deserve to be here, didn't deserve his presence, not now (had she ever?) -
And somehow she stumbled, her knees thumping hard into the sand. She had the wild thought that at least it was soft, the golden grains beneath her, at least it wasn't hard rock; and the oddity of the thought, the strangeness of its timing, had her fighting the urge to giggle hysterically. She was on her knees before the stallion who should, by the look of his face, be cowering, searching wildly for a healer. She had fallen when it was she who might have won the battle. She was at his mercy, and she wasn't sure that he had any more mercy left to give.
11-11-2016, 08:25 PM (This post was last modified: 11-11-2016, 08:27 PM by Cera.)
Cera
the Golden Prince
There is no sympathy left in his deadened, hollow breast to care for the way she stumbles, the hurt and ache in her voice. Even as he hears her crumple to the sand, far too soft an impact for the despair and hatred still bubbling inside of his adrenaline-hot veins, he does not turn to her. She deserves this. To stare at his back, as he had always been staring at hers; a mentor far above him, a retreating mother in ghostly parallel to the one who had abandoned him on the sands, a disappearing figure bound to return after seasons of betrayal without a word of explanation or apology. She doesn't deserve to see anything less than his own retreating heels, to cry after him as he had cried after her.
Croaking vocals draw one ear back, frozen like a statue where he stands. Incapable of walking away, because a part of him cannot exact that same betrayal against her. Not when she is still part of the Throat. Still family, even if she'd never been family in the way he'd wanted. The way he would never, ever be with anyone but Bellanaris. Even to Midas he had not been the golden son the Gallant had always wanted, and Gaucho and Sohalia had never had room in their large family for an older, bloodless son like Cera. No matter how the Prince had tried, the only royalty he'd ever been awarded was a facsimile, a title he didn't understand the reasoning behind. He was no Prince. He may have been born and raised on the sands of the Throat but that had never mattered to anyone else before.
Sohalia's hiccuping sobs finally turned him violently on his heel, disregarding the blood and his muddled vision and his burned skin. Stared down upon her like a damning archangel, unforgiving of her sins.
"Even now you still don't apologize. All of you, every one of you, you take my forgiveness and you spit on it. I will live and die as the Forger of this land, and nobody will ever question my existence. Nobody will ever ask if I wanted more than this, if I ever thought of leaving for all the thanks I've ever gotten. Because nobody cares about those who don't put up a fuss. Loyalty means nothing to those like you Sohalia. Those who leave without thinking or caring about the consequences. Loyalty means nothing to this herd." And his voice was so full of anger that he could feel his skin shaking with the desire to burst out of it. To be free from these emotions he had never wanted to feel. When had the world turned him so cold?
The scar on his chest ached, giving that quiet, stoic answer.
"Get up," he said quietly, voice like iron but far softer in tone. "If you want to fix this, Sohalia, get up. We can't just stand around and fight, or cry. That fixes nothing." The Prince strode toward her in all his bloodied, golden glory. Dropped his head to hers and offered himself, the strength of his neck and his body to lift her from the sands. The first step to forgiveness that she had never asked for, but that he was offering her nonetheless.
"I can't forgive you immediately. You'll have to earn that. But we'll start here. You and me. Help me fix this family." Single emerald stared down into her tearful blues, passing the torch of his fires to her wavering coals, asking her to build a stronger flame with the pair of them in unison. "If you want to stay, if you want to prove yourself to me...then help me now." And maybe she would earn his forgiveness a little more with each day she stayed. Each day she didn't turn and run, as she had so many times in the past. Maybe he could teach her about loyalty, for he had been born by the sand, and it had raised him fair and true. Perhaps his steadfastness would rub off on her, in that way.
That he honestly believes that nobody cares is astounding to the mare. Perhaps she was not present, perhaps she had not told him, but surely he knew how important he was to their family? Surely he knew how important he was to her? If she had not treated him as she would have her own children, it had been only because she'd never seen the weakness that he expressed now, never realized how very alone he had felt all these years. How was she supposed to offer him support if he never gave any indication of needing it?
Her sobs were subsiding as he spoke, his rage contained and his voice coming out almost flat. He was still angry, she knew that - nothing that she could say could change that. Her apologies during their fight - "I'm sorry, @Cera !" her voice rang through her head - had fallen on deaf ears. His dismissal of her attempted offerings wounded her, and she found herself sniffling rather than truly sobbing. When the stallion bid her to get her, the mare considered ignoring his offered neck, contemplated turning her head away in a petty show of independence; but wouldn't that only reinforce the solitude that the Golden Prince clung to so viciously?
And so she bit her tongue, trying to still her roiling stomach as she tossed her head carefully over his neck and allowed him to help her up. Once she was steady on her feet, she hobbled back a few steps. Truthfully, she could hardly stand to look at him right now (her own guilt was still too great), much less touch him. She didn't deserve it, and the petty part of her that she often managed to ignore thought that maybe he didn't, either.
"I will help you, Cera. Until my last breath." Even if the promise was brushed aside like her apologies, it was heartfelt. She looked at him earnestly as she spoke, her ears leaning tentatively forward. "And... Cera, I never left on purpose, okay? And maybe I didn't talk about it because I was... I am ashamed." She looked away. "The first time, I was kidnapped by some bounty hunters from my homeland. They thought that if they could bring me back and force me to be the ruler's mate, it would somehow unify the land and halt some rebellions that had been cropping up." Her voice was distant, pained with the memory. "And I only got caught because I was stupid enough to venture outside the Throat's borders without knowing how to defend myself.
"The second time... I don't really know what happened. When I heard about the Rifts, I thought maybe I fell through one or something, but... I was flying a patrol on the edge of the Throat nearest the Riptide Isles, and it seemed like the next minute I was touching down in the Isles. I didn't think any time had passed until Ivezho found me and told me how long I'd been gone." She sighed, shaking her head to clear the memories and wincing as she jostled her torn ear. "I am sorry. I can't ever make up for the time we've lost, but I hope you will allow me to be a part of your future. I don't expect an answer today... just know that I'm not leaving again. And I will prove it to you, if you'll give me the chance."