"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.
I had thought that the Heart Caves would be a good location to spend the winter, and, to be fair, it had done an okay job. We were warm, after all, what with the giant cascading font of fire at the heart of the vast, central cavern, and though the mosses and mushrooms to be foraged were certainly less tasty than true grass or proper vegetate, it was better than nothing. Still, staring up at the snow-sealed exit from this underground hell, with the red light flickering against my back, I wish I could leave.
There are others down here, too, hiding from the blizzards that howl above, but I’ve spent most of my time with Mordecai, and have otherwise skirted about the strangers and stragglers. That is perhaps the worst end of this deal, being trapped down here with her. She’s argumentative and bossy, and though I’ve been trying to learn Dothraki from her, who knows what all I’ve been called or threatened with in the past few days alone (seriously, who knows? Any translators for hire out there?). Frowning bleakly at the snow-sealed threshold into the world above one last time, I tear my eyes away, and stalk back into the caverns.
I find her where I think I will, in our little corner in the shadow, with thick, peculiar blankets of moss coating the stone. It’s served as a good place to lie down and sleep when the urge strikes, and is often where we’ve stood while she taught me various statements and words in her native language. I had learned a good bit, but there was always more to learn, after all…
"Anha… gerikh, thikh. Ezzol anna alikh… lehk?" I ask, slowly, because I have to think about it a lot harder than she does. Pretty sure I’ve left out a vital word or two, I hope she forgives me, considering this is the first time I’ve managed to ask the question without her having to stare blankly at me, before slowly offering me the right word (like I was a fucking idiot, or something). Smiling smugly, my eyes glimmer in the low light. "Unless you have somethingn better to do."
[ OOC: Hope you don’t mind the minor PP! :P ]
Translation:
"Anha… gerikh, thikh. Ezzol anna alikh… lehk?": I... lack, task. Teach me more... language?
It's better to push something away that's slipping
Than to risk being dragged down
Life with Rikyn had been surprisingly comfortable for Mordecai. He was quiet for the most part, but he was also inquisitive and wanted to learn the language she was most comfortable with. No on else had shown much interest and it made her appreciate him just a little more, even if he wasn't good at it yet. Sometimes he tested her patience when he mispronounced words she considered easy, or just couldn't seem to grasp a certain concept. She would grumble insults at him under her breath and was sometimes surprised when he understood what had been said.
Their lesson the day before had ended in frustration and more insults and the promise that she would never teach him another word of Dothraki if he insisted on being stupid and stubborn. so when he showed up, asking her in her own language to teach him more she was surprised. Her head tilted and she looked at him incredulously. Really? Usually he waited a few days after an argument beforehe asked her to ccontinue with their lessons.
Even though his use of the language was rough she appreciated his attempt and it pacified any lingering annoyance and anger from the night before. "Fin tat zalat tat tiholat?" She asked after a moment. So far they had gone over basics -- the names of certain animals, items, colors, numbers, and a few insults. Part of her wanted to teach him how to flirt under the guise of insults just for shits and giggles. She could imagine him "insulting" another stallion, when in reality he was telling him that he had a nice ass. A smile ghosted across her face, but disappeared quickly. "Okay." She agreed.
"."
Translation:
Fin tat zalat tat tiholat - what do you want to know
MORDECAI
maybe life is nothing more than a curse inside the blessed
i'll fight this bloody war with every strangled breath
Part of me expects her to say no, because I think that she enjoys making me frustrated with her. I’m not sure what sort of pleasure can be derived from raising some one’s blood pressure, but I am definitely of the mind that, for some people, it’s as bad as a drug.
Today, however, she seems amiable enough, even wearing the ghost of a smile for a moment, before becoming her usual surly self. I look into the expression as much as I look into anything that doesn’t pertain to myself, and, currently, I’m preoccupied with trying to piece together her first sentence.
What do I want to know, I think, but I’m not sure. Something about knowing…
I hate feeling stupid, like I do now, but the only way to not feel stupid when she uses her language against me is to know it. I have to feel stupid to not feel stupid, and it’s fucking stupid.
So I glare at her when I answer, not because I’m actually all that angry with her, but because I have a hard time keeping my emotions off my face. An ear flicks back as I try my best to answer in Dothraki, finding that it’s easier to remember the more I use it, even if I do feel like a primitive, feather adorned bird while using it.
"Ato esina," I hope to be correct, my lackluster accent derived as much from my annoyance with my own incompetence as it is annoyance with this language for existing at all, "yer okkat."
Translations:
Ato esina: something different
yer okkat: you to choose (he’s using the improper verb form here, cause dumb)
It's better to push something away that's slipping
Than to risk being dragged down
One ear tilted forward at his request to learn something different. She had taught him the basics and he seemed to have a good enough grasp on those to piece together sentences that she could understand even if words were used in the wrong tense. She'd also taken the time to teach him insults and slurs for those occasions when they were together and ran into someone particularly stupid. There was still a lot left for her to teach and for him to learn, but after the lesson the day before perhaps something different was a good idea.
WIth her decision made she stepped closer to Rikyn and began her lesson. "Chare." She said and she reached up to brush her muzzle against his ear. "Riv." She bumped her muzzle against his nose. ">Lenta. Odaya" Her muzzle traveled down to his neck then his chest, her touch lingering a tad longer than it probably should have. Mordecai continued on, then, her muzzle trailing along Rikyn's side as she continued to name body parts. "Torga." She said as she reached his stomach. Her head lifted and she rested her chin on his back. "Irge." The dark mare continued on, pausing as she circled behind her student. "Choyo." She said, punctuating the word with a sharp nip to Rikyn's haunches.
Mordecai laughed as she quickly skirted around Rikyn because she expected him to kick out at her in retaliation for the bite. She had grown bored of teaching Rikyn body parts already and was ready to move on to something that would be a bit more amusing. "Anha hakelat anna khirrof jin tawak haji vikeesi laz't fichat me." She said. Somehow she managed to keep a straight face, but she doubted that she would be able to once Rikyn repeated her.
"."
MORDECAI
maybe life is nothing more than a curse inside the blessed
i'll fight this bloody war with every strangled breath
Glad she doesn’t have any insults this time, I settle in the lesson in the usual way: staring at her mouth. It might seem weird, but some of the sounds involved in this horrible bird language are rare from the normal noises one makes using common, and I’ve found that its far easier to repeat what she says if I avoid the common courtesy of eye-contact, in favor of lip reading. So, when her first word arrives directly in front of my face, a bit of worry steps in that the lack of insults won’t last long - though the worry doesn’t last long, either.
"Chare," I repeat, her warm breath inspiring various tingles, which only seem to grow worse, the more she prods. Though "Riv," nose, isn’t that bad, her serious eyes looming before mine quite suddenly, "Lenta…" and "…Odaya…" make me have to stare at the ceiling, and think about wolves, war, pain, anything other than the feelings that they inspire in my carnal flesh, and the guilt which rises next.
"Torga-ah!" I remark with a chuckle, my eyes suddenly torn from the ceiling to mirthfully appeal to her to not do that again, her lips having touched on a place I’d hoped only my mother and Aithniel would ever know the weakness of. Clearing my throat in a masculine way, and continuing on with the lesson, the touch of her muzzle against my back again draws the warmth to looming, my own nose moving to touch her spine, too, behind her wings, where the feathers won’t touch me, unsure why it is I’ve done so. "…Irge."
Surprisingly, her teeth nip into my haunches, next, and a single hoof does instinctually dart out for her, my mind still that of a warrior, despite being asked to take on the tasks of a scholar, presently. Her laughter sings out behind me, and my ears fall back to catch the sound, and feign anger. I’m currently to distracted with liking her a bit too much to care that she’s just assaulted me, like I might had she not just been touching all over me.
"Hey!" I say, a mock glower rising to my face, as I turn about to face her, that glower fluttering over the smirk looming just beneath, "watch who’s choyo you go biting around here. I might not miss you next time."
The next part of the lesson is not body parts; I eye her quizzically as the sentence is procured, my mind studiously working over each word, while I occasionally mutter an audible attempt aloud, until I’m sure I can repeat it, at least well enough to be understood. That she seems to think the sentence is amusing doesn’t breach my desire to learn, and I miss the flicker of laughter that threatens to overwhelm her while I practice whatever it is in my head. Though I wouldn’t be surprised if it was something condescending towards myself, as a few of the things she’s had me say are, I certainly don’t expect it; she has, after all, mostly taught me useful things.
"Anha hakelat… anna khirrof… jin tawak haji. Uhmmmm, er…" shit, you started before you were ready again… "vikeesa? Vikeesi? Vikeesi! Vikeesi, laz’t fichat me."
Smugly smiling and puffing my chest, I immediately realize that I haven’t a clue what I just told her. It’s about me, of course, anha and anna being words that meant I and mine, and I am of the thought that it’s about a woman. Otherwise, I’m unsure, and the likelihood that I just called myself a pretty, pretty princess strikes me like a ton of bricks.
"What did I just say?" I ask her, suspiciously.
It's better to push something away that's slipping
Than to risk being dragged down
Mordecai was too engrossed in her lesson to notice the effect that she was having on Rikyn, which was probably a good thing for him. Had she known she would have taken her time -- her touches lasting longer and the words drawn out and more gutteral than they already were. When she reached his stomach and he reacted by laughing she smirked, locking away the little tidbit of information that he was ticklish in her mind. She could use it against him later if she needed to.
The kick had been something that Mordecai expected when she'd nipped Rikyn on the butt, and so she danced easily out of the way of it. "Ale vroz." she hummed as she circled around to stand before her student once more. The next sentence she rumbled in the language that Rikyn was trying so hard to learn was one that she had to suppress herself from laughing at. She suspected that if had picked up enough of the Dothraki language that he would know that he was talking about himself. If he was a superior student and picked up more than she suspected he would realize what he was saying and either refuse to say it or laugh at it.
"Anha hakelat..."
Her ears tilted forward as she listened.
"anna khirrof..."
Her grin grew a little wider and she stifled a giggle.
"Jin tawak haji."
He began to fumble a bit with the words and Mordecai almost repeated the word he needed, but before she could he remembered and finished the setence smugly. The look on his face and the way he puffed his chest out finally made the dark mare burst into a fit of laughter, unable to suppress it any longer. When he visibly deflated it only made Mordecai laugh harder.
"What did I just say?"
"I named..." She began, only to stop as another wave of laughter rolled over her. "I named..." She snorted and shook her head as she regained control over her laugher. "I named my dick the truth because bitches can't handle it." She managed before dissolving into a fit of laughter once more.
"."
Translation:
Ale vroz - too slow
MORDECAI
maybe life is nothing more than a curse inside the blessed
i'll fight this bloody war with every strangled breath
Too slow, she mocks me, my ears flicking back into their seemingly standard position when Mordecai is around. My tail flicks out towards her, the hind leg she’d just nipped the buttocks of tilting up onto a cloven, gold toe. Leisure, in the face of her threats, because, despite her ability to flush acid through my veins, I’m also entirely confident in my ability to completely demolish her, if I so chose. That arrogance is probably all over my face, the tilted smirk lingering on my cocoa lips angled towards her with a gaze that mocks her back.
"And you’re a wee, fuzzy kitten," I snort, rolling my eyes as we settle into the second half of the lesson, still a bit distracted with various… tensions.
Still not entirely sure I’ve not just insulted myself beyond measure, I become entirely sure as the magpie begins to literally shake with laughter. At first, I glare at her, even after some common words manage to ease their way through her giggles and guffaws; the glare slackens into an open mouthed gawp, however, when my brain manages to register exactly what she’s just told me to say.
"And what do you know about my… my khirrof?" I muster, unable to use my native term for one’s member in the presence of a girl, even if she was as unladylike as Mordecai. I don’t register that she’s complemented me until a bit too late, either, distracted by the sheer shock value of what’s just fallen out of the girl’s mouth, and add, belatedly: "But… hoeri yer. I guess?"
Translation: But...hoeri yer?: But...thank you?
It's better to push something away that's slipping
Than to risk being dragged down
The fact that he called her a wee fuzzy kitten when she was more of a lioness made Mordecai laugh even more. She believed that he honestly had no idea what he was getting in to when he invited her to stay in the caves with him during the winter. Mordecai sidled up closer to Rikyn, her wing brushing lightly against his side as she spoke. "Stroke me the right way and I purr like a kitten, too." She only lingered at Rikyn's side a moment before she danced away, sure that that along with the revelation of what she'd just had him say would leave him totally baffled.
When Mordecai did turn to look at Rikyn, the way he gaped at her made another fit of laughter spill out of her. She hadn't anticipated that he would be so shocked, but it was utterly delightful. She relished the minutes that it took for him to compose himself, and when he finally asked "And what do you know about my... my khirrof?" She laughed. He was practically virginal with how shocked he was and how he was unable to use the common word for his khirrof. It was kind of cute, kind of endearing, and yet it made the dark mare want to totally corrupt that little bit of innocence in him that was left.
"Hmm, I don't know." Mordecai answered once her laughter had subsided. She took a step forward, her expression thoughtful. She took another step and her muzzle reached out to brush against Rikyn's. "Kifindirgi avvos yer ezzolat anna." She didn't wait for Rikyn to translate the words, because it often took him too much time and, well, Mordecai wasn't exactly the patient sort. "Teach me."
"."
Translation:
kifindirgi avvos yer ezzolat anna - why don't you teach me
MORDECAI
maybe life is nothing more than a curse inside the blessed
i'll fight this bloody war with every strangled breath
So, for all the time I’d spent with her, you’d think I’d have gotten used to the lewd commentary; regrettably, I hadn’t. Though I thought I’d managed to make a good dig at her with my kitten remark, and am suitably smug, her remark still strikes that smile off my face, leaving me staring at her, my jaw working, as if it might speak, an irrepressible shudder moving through me at the touch of her wings (and I can’t tell if its due to disgust or desire anymore). I can’t find the words, though, having never met a girl like her, or, hell, a boy like her. Furen and Erebos are polite, with thoughtful words, and the girls I have kept close company with were ladies, all about their etiquette, even the murderous ones.
Mordecai, however, lived life as if her tongue was a mace, and everything else was glass.
Gathering up my shattered composure, not really meaning it, or the implications, I almost shoot her the thoughtless remark of “don’t tempt me,” but find myself caught up in the lesson at hoof. It isn’t long, however, before my thoughts are again scattered by the intensely sexual nature of today’s lesson, and this time, I have a much more difficult time getting myself together.
The implications of what is said next draws the strongest yearning from within me that has ever struck any chord upon my soul. Already wound up enough, I am immediately struck with the idiot thought of, “why’s it take so many words to say two?” before the levity of it all hits me with the force of, I don’t know, Gaucho. A foolish flush rises to my skin, but her previous retort has helped to steel my resolve for the pure strike of this one.
My ears twitch back, though my mouth doesn’t gawp, eyes narrowing, thoughtfully searching her face for a distinction between jest and request. Having never met a girl like her in all my life, I admit I have a really hard time discerning such, and the promising glow spilling from the frame of the doorway she has parted is beguiling.
It’s easy to forget she has wings, when she looks at me like that, her dark mouth pressed against my coffee coat, the shadow of the cavern eclipsing most of us in darkness, in which we fit, like two faintly shining ghosts, I glimmering with gold, and she glowing with the radiant paleness of the moon. Though I think of the First Gods, of the promise that I will be cast into nothingness if I dare…
Her hair smells good when I bury my muzzle into the dark tangles of her locks, like the shadowy place we’ve been living in, and the rich oil of her skin. It’s a weird sort of good, that makes me want to keep breathing, and breathing, until, maybe, I’ll fall into place with whatever tiny pieces make up what she is, and I won’t have to be me anymore, for at least a little while.
So I bite at her instead, roughly and without much aim, because fuck those pussy feelings, and the confusing, warm riot rushing though each and every one of my cells. Regardless, however, of the ivory clamor of my teeth, and the space between us, the need to touch her remains, and I snort, irritably taking a slow, backward step away, before why the fuck am I leaving? flashes through my head like a giant, radiant comet, and crashes into every sensible idea I’ve ever had. It ignites them into embers, which bloom swiftly into flames, that roar in my ears, and accelerate my blood.
Turning back around, my steps are steady, laden with resolve, the impish glimmer in my gaze lost for something else entirely.
"You’d like that, wouldn’t you?" is rumbled, my figure moving alongside hers, edging close, near enough to feel the warmth of her curves kiss and ripple against my own, with the absence of true touch. Some unknown, inner wisdom leads my lips to toying along the curve of her haunches, the depth of each breath drawing her perfume further into myself, until her imperfections blur away, and a foolish, brash decision begins to look more like an opportunity. Like a drug, each metaphorical hit draws me to the next, until I don’t think I could stop touching her, even if I could think about more than this peculiar, delightful high. Things like consequences, eternity, values…
It's better to push something away that's slipping
Than to risk being dragged down
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