"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.
"Here it is, Sol." Argen said, stopping short of the border. Snow littered the ground in a way that covered any trace of glass shards from the ground, but Argen remembered how the felt on his frog when he accidently stepped on one, and chose to stay put where he was. It had been quite a while since Argen had been back here in the World's Edge, the herd he had finally chosen in Helovia. The fiery stallion had been called back to aid his grandfather in war, and he obediently followed. "Do you think they'll welcome us back?" Argen asked his dragon. From his perch on dun-marked withers, Solomon clicked his tongue. Maybe not you, but definitely me. He joked.
Argen shot him a mental glare and Solomon lifted his chin, a large, toothy draconian smile etching over his bronze features. The dragon lowered his body and wrapped his arms around Argen. I didn't mean it. They kind of liked you too....sort of.
"They probably didn't even notice I was gone. I didn't do a very good job at being a sleuth or whatever I was." Argen grumbled, ears lowering against his neck. "Ah well, fuck it." He snorted after staring at the ground for several minutes. Lifting his chin into the wintry air, the roaned wanderer let his brassy trumpet fill the air, calling out to the leaders of this place he called "home" for a short time.
[I know I can't set this to private, but I'd love it if it were only higher ranked or leaders (someone who can accept argen back) to keep the pace of this thread quick!]
but somewhere here in between the city walls of dyin' dreams
Bitterness tasted like dust in your mouth, a thin film coating your tongue, sand and gravel between your teeth and gums. And it didn't matter how much he drank, or how much he chewed on it—it didn't go away. It stayed there, stuck, a reminder of everything he hated about this world.
It was quite a lot, to be fair, and most of all he hated himself, and his heart.
He hated the muddied labyrinth of his own rage; missed the clean, sterile lines, the icy, logical perfection guiding his every action. The arrogance which gave him a cause, and enabled him to act. Without his racial bias, he was nothing, a sworn guardian who could not strike another because he had no right and words could settle everything but damned hearts turned to darkness—
And pride. Pride was poison, but Mauja was cut from his angry, frustrated musings by a call ringing out. It was a summons, for the leaders of this place, and Mauja's ears fell flat against his neck. He wasn't sure what he was; above the masses, but below his King and Queen? A pawn, nothing much but a shield, a bulwark, an arrow to shoot into the darkness... He let out a shaky breath, shook his head, tamed his demons. The diamond snowflakes in his mane clicked against one another, and he set out for the call.
It wasn't somebody he remembered—after seven years in a land where everyone came and went, he needed more than the mere notion of having been herd mates to tie them to his memory. He needed snatches of conversation, maybe names, something solid and not just a dun roan with white spots and a bronze dragon on his back. Mauja tilted his head to the side. Beneath the skin, the black currents ran dark and wild, but still he breathed calm and grace, patient as the world itself. A rugged winter coat hid the sharpest angles of his body, but a keen eye would notice the hollows in his flanks and hips, and just how hard he looked with all the bones so close to the surface.
"Hello," he said pleasantly, watching the stranger. "I am Mauja. What can I do for you?"
12-29-2016, 08:05 PM (This post was last modified: 12-29-2016, 08:05 PM by Argen.)
Argen & Solomon the darkest burning star
Solomon was keen on the stallion before he showed himself to the pair. Lightning yellow eyes hardened and narrowed in on the approaching, white figure. Between the snow and the mist, he was nearly invisible. It was the blue of his horn and the small black spots that littered his body that made it possible for the bronze to place him against the white forest. The dun's ears twisted forward toward the attention of his companion, but his hooves took a hesitant step sideways. It seemed quite strange that he would react in such a way after having called out into the forest for the attention of a herd member, but after just leaving a warzone it made sense. The muscles along the stallion's sides tightened and Solomon lowered his head, tail twitching against Argen's back.
The stranger seemed pleasant enough as he stepped from the mist, and Argen turned to face him. Solomon shifted, trying not to pierce his bondmate's skin with his razor-like digits. "Hello," The stallion replied, almost too quickly. "I am Argen, and this is Solomon." He gestured to the creature that sat firmly on his back, though that was probably not necessary. Your spots are opposite. Solomon pointed out mentally, smiling inwardly. The dragon was quite proud of himself for noticing. Yeah. They are. Let's hope his attitude is better than mine, usually. Otherwise we might not be able to come back. Solomon shifted again. I'll just burn him.
Argen snorted inwardly at his companion, and silenced their communication. He needed to focus on the larger, stronger stallion before him. They pair needed a herd to survive--he learned that while he was with his grandfather. "I used to live here once...not for very long...but I've returned, and I'm looking to call this place, uh, "home" once more." Argen did not really know what words to use, and his sentence showed the struggle within him quite plainly.
He wasn't the best at hiding his emotions. Maybe that's why he was a bad sleuth.
We are the long forgotten sons
And daughters that don't belong to anyone
We are alone under this sun
We work to fix the work that you've undone
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but somewhere here in between the city walls of dyin' dreams
There were things there, little lines of fire and tension, things he saw but did not mirror back in his eyes—knowledge he did not reveal. There was a story in the little sidestep, in the rush of his word, a parry of sorts.
It was either ill intent, or some kind of fear, stress, anxiety. Mauja made to blink, but closed his eyes instead.
He didn't know what to do about anything anymore. Alysanne was a fractured, cracked being at heart. Myrrine had attempted suicide, spurred on by Tilney. Toulouse had attempted to push Raeden off of a cliff, for no reason at all. Oizys was still a little bitch deserving nothing but to be annihilated. Not even the joy of the Giving Tree had fixed anything. He didn't know his herd anymore. He didn't know the land. He was trapped in a current taking him somewhere he did not want to go, head barely above the surface, breathing seawater spittle and foam.
And now he found himself with someone either here to destroy them, or simply seeking shelter, purpose, and Mauja had no idea what to do about it. Was it a risk he could take? Or did it not matter at all, because they housed a nest of vipers anyway?
"I see," he said after a moment, simply to pass the time. So he had lived here before, this Argen, but he was still unfamiliar. Under whose reign had it been? His own? Shame on him if that was the case. Sighing softly, Mauja opened his eyes. "Welcome home again, Argen. Is there any particular path you wish to pursue..?"
Argen was quite capable in battle, but there was something about the aged stallion before him that made the dun believe he could be annihilated beneath those frosty, feathered hooves. He had seen enough wartorn, old stallions to know who to step toward and who to step back from. The amber-eyed stallion decided that the friesian before him would be one he would step back from. Solomon sent a questioning spark toward his bondmate, but the brute ignored the dragon. The bronze sighed and lowered himself to nestle on Argen's back, lightning eyes watching the frost beast before them.
Argen's face lightened some with Mauja's response, and he lifted his head. A small smirk flitted at the sides of his lips, and he tilted his head in a relaxed way. His body seemed to relax as well, the muscles loosening at his sides. "I was a sleuth. I could take on a warrior's role, but I've just fought in a war outside Helovia and would not be opposed to staying off the field for a bit." He tried to make his voice as light as possible, though what he had admitted without hesitation was that he had just helped in a war.
The boy had never been the best at hiding things. It was even more apparent now as he stood within Helovia's borders than it had been the first time he walked through the Threshold.
We are the long forgotten sons
And daughters that don't belong to anyone
We are alone under this sun
We work to fix the work that you've undone
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