"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.
Icebound’s scream freezes the rage that pulsed in his veins. Her terror drew him towards her; long, exhausted, injured limbs limping slightly as he tried to close the distance their now-equally-defensive tactics had put between them. His gaze grew cold, no longer burning with the anger that the Thicket’s words and Elsa’s accusations had lighting in him.
Edgar’s screech called to the small, charging elephant matriarch, though it had as much effect on her as Tembovu’s mental commands for her to halt her charge. Though, luckily for all parties involved, Elsa’s backwards movements made Mbwene’s charge miss the Queen. And her angry trumpet and abrupt pivot were both cut short as she ran—SMACK!— into the ice wall Elsa had thrown up in front of her.
Tembovu, however, was not as lucky in avoiding Elsa’s companion’s attack. His attention had so wholly been focused on Elsa after her scream (he did not even blink away the blood that dribbled into his eye), that he did not see the zephyr’s silent descent. And it was too late that the hiss of ice as it suddenly streamed so close to his flank jerked his ears and attention to the flap of wings that was so close to his barrel.
The King snorted—though it quickly morphed to a shouted groan as Edgar’s magic brushed over the right side of his manhood, before freeze burning the inside of his right thigh. He instinctively lifted up in a rear, forelimbs striking out—though it was a blinded attack for the immediate agony stole his vision.
“Tembovu! Mbwene! Stop!”
An eerie silence fell between the two monarchs, even as the inferno roared beside them. His hide, darkened to a deep brown with seat, had begun to drip onto the drying earth around them. His face was a mess of dirt, ash, and blood; the sweat causing all three to meld together, while dark blue eyes started at Elsa’s blurred form through her defensive ice wall.
He addressed those that had remained ( “Take care of the fire. Warn others who were not here of the flames so that no more harm will come from these thorns.”), but his attention was focused on his Queen. Pain pulsed from his groin, every powerful pound of his heart bringing more blood to the inflamed, sensitive tissues. His breaths came out as soft groans, but he desperately tried to ignore it.
“Elsa, I—“ the words were a deep, low croak. He stopped, cleared his throat, and then continued, “I am sorry. Please, take down your wall.” His voice was so hoarse that he wasn’t sure if she could even hear him. His head hung level with his withers, exhaustion settling in as the pain joined it to steal his stoicism. His right leg cocked, toe hovering in the ashy, torn soil as his flank twitched with the pain of Edgar’s freeze burns.
Mbwene’s annoyed trumpet was strangled to silence by a single, overpowering, unquestionable demand from the King: ’Silence.’ The glare he receive was one that promised she would never forget this day.
10-14-2016, 09:38 AM (This post was last modified: 10-14-2016, 09:39 AM by Elsa.)
Oh the wall. It was undoubtedly the best move for her at the moment. Her wing ached as she shied away from the thump of Mbwene hitting the ice. Her eyes fell closed, and she relished the darkness that washed over her. An eerie silence followed, Edgar hopping on the ground toward his bonded after successfully freezing Tembovu’s manhood (which, betwixt all the emotions, was quite the high). His head rubbed longingly against her front hooves, trying desperately to calm to Icebound. Yet he had never seen her so shattered and broken.
The queen opened her eyes for a moment, only glancing towards the burning thicket, the impression of the deer like creature fresh in her mind. All she could see was burning, and instead of ash It was a pool of blood.
Tembovu’s voice eventually broke through her calm. No matter how quiet he chose to be, she was attuned to him enough to pick up the quietest of whispers. Her head never looked back to the wall as she let it go. Taking the blasting of the heat, it almost immediately crumbled into boulders of ice. Edgar was the only one to look back at the duo. His eyes first land of Mbwene, sad and upset that one of his friends would do such a thing. Elsa had no intention of hurting Tembovu, but it seems that the elephant king had been waiting for a moment to shatter the Icebound.
Elsa let even more silence fall as the elephantine companion trumpeted her annoyance. It hardly gave her any motivation to stick around. If she was so eager to go why didn’t they both pack up and leave? They obviously had no intention of mourning the souls consumed by the flames.
“Why are you here.” Her voice was rough and ragged, fighting against the choking of the smoke. “You did it. You killed them. I hope you’re proud of your decision.” Elsa was defeated and broken, her words reflecting as much. “You win Tembovu. I give up. Whatever I do is never good enough for you.” Her lower lips quivered as she bit back tears. Tears were weak, and she refused to feed into his sick masochism anymore. “Do not think this is just about the… thing from before. This is hardly just about that. To you’ve I’ve been nothing but secondary and not good enough. You can’t even trust me and the other warriors to protect our land that you’ve just murdered a family. You don’t even care.” As much as her words were accusatory, it was dead and more statement like. Nothing could change her mind about him- at least for now. Edgar peeped quietly, trying to reign in his bonded’s wild thoughts. Digging into the deepest recesses of her mind, he was trying to pull her out of the dark rut she had just climbed out of.
Dirty, broken and beaten, she finally got the guts to look to the man who destroyed the last living parts of her soul.
10-23-2016, 01:21 AM (This post was last modified: 10-23-2016, 01:22 AM by Tembovu.)
Silence stretched. Long and heavy. And anything but silent.
For all the lack of words, a multitude of emotions roiled in the King. Regret was loudest, making itself known as angry roars of lions in his skull. Guilt was second, writhing like venomous vipers beneath the regret’s din. And lastly there was sorrow, which whispered as a soft and consistent breeze around the snakes and lions.
And these silent sounds were punctuated by the cracking, splitting, and falling of Elsa’s ice wall. And then more deafening silence. The King, despite the agony his manhood pulsed through his veins, tried to limp towards her—to physically close the silence that she let stretch. Such an effective and painful rebuke for what he had done here. His awkward steps stopped only when his hooves hit the remnants of her melting ice wall, unable to jump over it to reach her. Instead, his great skull and neck reached out to her, navy stare wide and pained.
When she finally spoke, his perked ears heard her easily over the roar of the thicket’s flames. The black rimmed pinnae twitched with each of her rough, ragged syllables. Thick lips pressed together, lines creasing his anguished face as her own lips quivered amid her broken words.
Never—never—had the Elephant King thought he was capable of this.
He had destroyed the Pillar, demolished the council’s tyranny and lies. (And thus, he should have inferred that, with all of those lies, he was capable of dastardly things. But he had never thought he could so thoroughly destroy a woman he cared so deeply for).
“Elsa—“ He began, but then broke off. His deep voice was rough partially from smoke, but mostly from emotion. What was there to say? He had already apologized. He had left her alone; avoided her; taken care to not impose his presence on her until duty dictated he protect his herd from this Thicket-Monster.
“No, you are not ‘good enough’; you are too good. You are honest and open with me, where I kept things from you. I hope—“ his voice faltered once again, navy eyes probing her bright blue depths, “—I hope that you will find happiness with one who deserves you. And though I have apologized, I cannot ask for your forgiveness, for I do not deserve it.”
A long and low breath pushed out of his nostrils as he looked at her. Her wing drooped, broken or sprained from his own trunk. And, though he wanted nothing more than to hobble towards her and hold her, he refrained because he knew that not only was he unwelcome, but also that it would not be comforting to the Icebound.
So, instead, with ears tilted back, he watched her with anguished, worried eyes.
The name, God hearing her name was like a knife. Elsa cringed inwardly, almost wishing he wouldn’t acknowledge her presence. It was embarrassing to say the least. Edgar angrily called out to Tembovu, trying to get him to stop, only to time it exactly when he began to speak again.
This time, a new emotion broiled within Elsa. It was akin to anger, but ran much deeper. It felt as if a knife was cutting straight through her, and the unshed tears finally made their appearance as she tried to hold back the sobs. However, that was to no avail as she began gasping for air. Her tears were not those of sadness, but of anger, and regret. The only thing good that had come from this whole situation was Hawezi, yet, even he disappeared like the rest of them.
The Elephants excuse was so shallow- so fake and rehearsed that she began to wonder how many others had heard those exact words. Maybe if she had still been naive, she would’ve fallen for it, but he had messed with a heart that had already been broken one too many times. She knew these tricks- these lies and excuses. She ground her teeth together, forcing her constant gasping and heaving to calm, but tears fell steadily still from the angry eyes of ice. “You- Don’t even.” Her voice was more of a growl as her ears fell harshly against her head. “That is a bullshit excuse, even for you.” Her jaw was set tightly, almost snapping with each syllable she spoke. “You can’t even act like you’re the victim of my anger. You brought this upon yourself, and you know what, you’re right, you don’t deserve my forgiveness. I’ve given it out too many times to waste it again.” The way he spoke was so condescending that Elsa felt like she was being addressed as a child. His words spoke so many insinuated things- but all she heard from them was the big glowing word he was trying to make her feel. Guilt. There was not a shred within her that could care about him anymore. One thing after another her just refused to listen, and for him to sit here and show remorse for something he had no intention of not doing in the first place was a disgraceful act.
The boiling within Elsa had reached an all-time high, and Edgar had an imminent feeling of dread. If Elsa’s emotions were this strong, he wasn’t sure how well Mwbene was handling her bondeds. Edgar was used to these emotional swings, but he wasn’t so sure about the matriarch across from him. His eyes pleaded for her to remain quiet, and not get involved. The last thing he wanted to do was bring more pain into this.
But Elsa was far from finished. Her angry, frustrated expression seemed permanently imprinted on her face as she addressed her counterpart. Yet, was it even fair to call him that? He was the king after all, and he had proven he was much higher and more worthy than she ever was. “Do not pretend here Tembovu, you have no regret or remorse for what you have done. Nor do you wish me well. If you had, you wouldn’t have just killed an innocent family for no reason. Stop deluding yourself into thinking you ever cared about me. It’s pathetic. I’ve accepted it, and so should you.” Her voice was hissing, venom laced with each syllable as she aimed to make her point known. “I pity the one you have chosen. At least with her don’t wear the mask of justice around like you’re the hero. Don’t delude her into seeing what was never there.” Don’t make her believe you care, don’t fake her into thinking that you love her. ’Don’t treat her like you treated me.’ She thought sourly. “Just stop acting like the hero when you’re no better than the villain.” Her eyes bore into him, almost wishing she could make him crack and fall into a pile of ash on the ground before her. The tears had etched dark lines along her face, still gently bubbling from her eyes as she willed away any other sign of distress.
"I may be worthless Tembovu, but at least I care." Her breathing was ragged, as if she had just run a marathon. Yet, the Icebound had only just begun.
11-27-2016, 11:36 PM (This post was last modified: 11-27-2016, 11:36 PM by Tembovu.)
Black-rimmed ears twitched at Edgar’s angry calls—though he continued to watch the fallen Queen for long moments, awaiting her response. And he was answered with tears, causing shame to silence the regret and any other emotion that roiled in the Elephant King. A pained, short breath pushed out of his nostrils as his navy eyes traced each tear’s bath down her snowy face. Teeth gritted and lips pursed; ears tilted back and quivered—he did not like to see women cry. And he most assuredly did not like to be the cause of those tears.
He flinched mildly beneath her angry, snapping fury. She denied him an acceptance to his apology—rightfully so, in his mind; though the Elephant King was sincere in his remorse. His pursed lips remained so as he stood beneath the onslaught of Elsa’s rage; waiting silently for her to continue through her brief pause. Her words seemed too hot, too fuming, to be complete with her first tirade.
And he was right, for her frustrated expression yielded to hisses: “Do not pretend, here…” But these words, her next words, kindled some kind of responding anger him, despite her tears. They were hurtful and hateful; untrue for the sake of injuring the King. “You have no regret or remorse for what you have done.” At those words, something snapped in his navy eyes, painful creases in his dark skin subtly shifting to regal impatience.
His ears snapped forward, his body rose to its full height—that Elsa would so easily accuse him of such things, after knowing him… The Icebound sank considerably in his esteem. He had made allowances for her anger, her hurt, at his own hand. But this… these were absolute falsehoods spilling venomously of her cold lips.
So his face became a kingly, irritated mask as he spoke his next words, “Regardless of whatever has happened between us, Icebound, I am King and will protect this herd as I see fit. And, in the future, I will expect the same respect allowed any monarch from you,” his deep voice paused as he looked at her closely, “I will give you the same.”
And, with that, the King began to turn and walk towards the raging inferno to make sure it would not spread throughout the herdlands. He chose not to address her individual accusations, allowing her the understanding of a pained heart and hurt soul. Though, once turned away, his features broke into a sad shadow of his kingly demeanor, the flame’s tongues reflected in his dark eyes.