"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, 02:41 AM (This post was last modified: 11-27-2016, 02:55 AM by Laume.)
THE fae child was not feeling superb today. Her wings did not flutter with their usual joy. Her little body refused to hop from bush to bush. It was the morning after the search party, where no one had noticed her very much, yet again. Not that she could blame them, she was good at staying out of the way. She'd been very quiet since Mother left because they all always seemed so busy and worried about important things. She didn't want to cause them trouble with acting sad or asking for help. Who wants to seem like a crybaby anyways? But the game was getting old. The one where she followed around the adults and hid in the shadows.
Today, she had to admit that her scraped up little legs (From the adventure to her mom and back) were kindof annoying. Ok, they hurt worse than a mouse probably hurt getting picked up by an owl! She was trying to be strong because, though it had been dark last night, the adults had noticed her a little bit and no one had gotten upset. So like, if they hadn't made a fuss about it then she should just try to be strong and trust that everything was ok, right? The puffiness and weird yellow stuff would probably go away on its own. Plus, Mother had tried to help a little when she'd seen them. They were totally fine.
Her stomach rumbles in protest of her denial.
An inhale, a sigh, and a sudden ambush by a tickle on her nose! She wiggles it but it doesn't go away. Laume stares at her scabby legs, dejected, and knows she can't use those. "Oh well." The tickle stays but at least its a distraction from needing to find food. Mother had seemed pretty interested when Laume had headed back to the Edge...maybe she'd shown up in their thicket? Her feet tread to the spot, her voice comes, "M-Mom?". Nothing. There were no new smells of her, no signs that she'd been there to wait. All her effort, all the time she'd spent on her trip, it had gotten her nothing but scabs. She was never going to be good enough. She always did everything wrong. Her chin begins to wobble.
Mom hadn't come back.
She wasn't a horrible mare, Mother, she just was a little...distracted. She cared. But the thought pops into her head again, unbidden, that she'd had to be the one to find her mother and not the other way around. No matter the emotions the mare had shown or the well meaning words she'd still let Laume leave on her own. She'd not come back with her. "No, she doesn't care. Not really." Then, suddenly, she realizes that she's back to where she was when she'd left to find her mother, the one horse she thought she'd be able to turn to: scared.
Laume was scared and hurt and tired and alone and that chin wobble erupts into full on tears. What was she supposed to do? She'd no one to help her, no one that wasn't too busy or distracted or put-upon. Her dirty and too-thin body crawls under a young, low-lying pine tree for shelter. There the sobs quake her tiny body all the way through. Her head lowers under the weight of trying to survive when no one cared if you did or didn't. She curls in tighter on herself. Even the birds in the tree, startled by her distressed noises, leave her in annoyance. There was no lullaby anyone could cry for her. There were no words which could console her. No one could stop the decimation of her little soul now. Words were pillows made of air and the reality of abandonment was a cold, hard floor rising up to meet you.
OOC: Tilney first and then Ros can enter whenever after(Maybe after he heals/she responds once?
"words words"
11-28-2016, 05:29 AM (This post was last modified: 11-28-2016, 05:31 AM by Tilney.)
tilney
and oh, there is more to this life
It was a miserable day for more than just the Helovians trying to get work done it seemed. The sleet the pitter pattered down and hit Tilneys vertebrae were enough to cause his teeth to clench as he stomped towards his home, ears flat against his neck. Such awful weather must be earned Tilney could only hypothesise - there really was no other explanation for such horrid conditions.
Snatching his cloak and collar from inside the cave neath the tree, Tilney donned them before continuing his afternoon among the mist and sleet.
It was days like these that caused the flaxen man to keep any and all pity for himself, which was extremely rare. He didn't even think of those who existed eternally in ice and snow in the northernmost4 corner of their realm, a place he had once called home. For seasons he had frozen and shaken among the geysers and foothills of the steppe - it had been where his love for Arah had sprung. He did not pity the folk of the Aurora Basin though, no. It was he who was trudging through a sheet of snow and slipping on black ice wishing he could be frolicking in a sunlit meadow.
His wish though; the one of sunbeam kisses and golden light suddenly seemed to come true in a strange way. When the sun's final rays broke through the clouds it illuminated a familiar looking filly. It was the girl present when they had gone to search for Arah - one blessed with elegant wings similar to a butterfly's, and an incredible speckled and splashed.
The girl was curled beneath a lurching pine, perhaps seeking warmth. It was not hard to see her ribs, nor the weeping scabs that littered her legs and ashen bodice.
Where on earth was her mother? It was evident that this poor doe was the victim of serious neglect.
Stepping quickly towards the little one, Tilney tried to approach as friendly as possible - he did not want to scare the poor thing. "Little one, what has happened to you?" the flaxen father uttered, his mind crossing to his own daughter and how ashamed he would be if Maude ever ended up in this state.
The physician set himself down beside her, knees buckling as he folded himself down to lay next to the shivering mess. "here" the doctor uttered before taking the end of his cloak between his teeth and casting it over the little one to share its warmth. "Aiya" was, of course, his next whisper - He needed some more light to survey the wounds to her legs. As he inspected the scrapes and cuts which seemed desperate to heal, He also checked for parasites among other things. "You have no parents?" He asked her, then glancing around to look for some assistance. It seemed they would need a foster mare, and they would need one soon or he feared this one would not make it to the end of frostfall.
Tilney unfastened the cloak from his chest and stood, then attempted to tuck every corner around the little one until she was bundled up beneath it "There, feel a bit toastier?" the man asked with a kind but sorry smile her way. Soon he would see about healing those legs, but for now he wanted to get her out of the cold. "What is your name little one"
SHE shivers against a sudden breeze and the sun it exposes. The fae child does not want sun to warm her hide, she doesn't want to care about the weather, and so she wills it to go away with the all the petulance allowed to her youth. Surprisingly, it does go away and just around her too. It was as if her very thoughts had been answered by the outline of whatever this was which had come to feign interest.
The outline speaks. "Little one, what has happened to you?" her head wobbles as it turns about, craning to glean a proper image of the voice's owner. "T-Tilney?" she snuffles out. Her sobs quiet as she pauses to consider her answer to his question. She could tell him about her long journey and how she'd fallen from the sky, exhausted, too many times to count. But that would take a long time and he was probably too busy to hear it all. He seemed sincere now so she might as well be nice and give him a short answer. Her eyes assess the stallion, warily, while he tosses his cape over her curled up form. His body heat hits her in a wave so strong it almost bowls her over. She tries not to with all her might, but she crawls a bit closer to the stallion and the warmth he offers. She mutters, finally, matter-of-factly "No one decided to want me." Her soul had no m
She wants to fight him and his sudden interest but its hard when he's being so calm and so kind. Was this what fathers were like? Not nearly as much emotion as mothers but still somehow getting their interest across? Her eyes stare at him, lost in thought, until he addresses her directly again. This time he wants to know about her parents. "I do. They're just like most grown-ups. They don't seem to notice or remember me. Not like they're bad. Well, at least M-Mom doesn't. I don't know about Father. I ha'ent seen him since I was born." She hiccups out the last bit.
The stud surprises her further as he drops the entire blanket, heated with his warmth, over her whole body. The fae child is tucked in, embraced, with such care she begins to wonder if its really happening. Her shock is either receding or setting in, she's not sure which, so she only nods quietly to his question and buries her nose under a corner of her hero's cape. Poor Tilney's smile earns him extra points he's about to spend on the ladder of trust he's climbing. For as soon as he questions her name tears threaten again, briefly, until she gets herself under control to force out the answer he seeks. "Laume"
OOC: Whoever wants to post next can go for it. =)
"words words"
Where there's no Law tying my heart from the start..
Chico was the one who went to investigate; I’d seen the dude (Tinky?) (Tilney) T.V. and he was looking at something, his head dipped down at a thing that had captured his interest, and I was content to leave him to his business and head on my merry way. But Chico wasn’t, that nosy bastard, so he fluttered above and went to see what Tizzy was doing from an aerial view.
When he did though, I felt a key-change in the tenor of his thoughts, and I watched as he dipped down from the air, zpsnk!ing into a black-and white ball of fluff. I cocked an eyebrow from my vantage point. What’s poppin’?
Come see, was Chico’s reply. Trundling on his stout little legs, Chico approached from between Tinky’s legs, liquid eyes glistening and nose twitching at the child that lay at the stud’s feet. I saw through his eyes at the shivering little body with the damaged legs, and I realized at once what had drawn Chico over there. He wasn’t interested in fucking around; he waddled up to the child, a girl with splattered markings and weird butterfly wings that seemed familiar somehow. He nosed at her, his snout wiggling at her, offering his fat, fuzzy body as an additional source of heat.
It wasn’t long before I burst on the scene behind him, having run all that way to the scene. Compared to the calm carefulness of Tesla’s administration to the child, I was a ball of snorting, heaving urgency as my eyes darted around, looking for anyone else who might be in the same situation as the filly. It was weird that she would be all alone here--that there wouldn’t be more people surrounding this kid, considering. “What happened? Who did this to you?” I asked, a little bit more frantically than I should’ve, maybe, I dunno. I just knew if there was a threat, then I had to be on my toes to get the job done.
The creatures whimpers managed to utter his name, whispering bleats demanding nothing but answers from the frostbitten sunshine around her. Everything must seem such a folly, a fable. Even the frost glinted and the sun shone while it snowed - to someone of her age, her stature, this was nonsensicle. The world around her was incomplete and blatantly lying on a little one's terms. Black and white. "Shhh" Tilney uttered to her, green eyes glancing around. He would give her the answers she sought in good time; he was older, wiser, but most of all he knew that subtle slices and cuts of grey existed abundantly between the onyx and ivory.
When the strange creature approached, Tilney eyed it carefully. It had the figure of what he had heard many calling a rougarou but he had never actually seen one. It seemed harmless enough, and as it slinked between the huddled pair Tilney should of known who might appear next behind such a creature.
The woman he'd met on the slopes approached, watching with her ever-fierce gaze. Immediately she demanded to know what happened, something Tilney was sure all parties involved wished to know but he could understand her urgency. Perhaps he had found Ros's soft spot? Did she even have one?
Stepping over the young one Tilney edged away, hopefully out of earshot of the painted bundle beneath his cloak. "Her parents are gone, she's as thin as a leaf" he murmured to Roskuld "She might not last to the end of Frostfall without a foster mare to nurse her" he could only speak the truth, his gaze finally crooning back to the little one. "What is your mothers name?"
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