"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.
fear the vulture and it will come. fear nothing and you are the vulture.
Massive wings spread slightly—unable to fully extend in the small clearing where he had found a good chunk of vines and bones. Many had amassed around the Rotunda’s ruined pillars, and the giant vulture had found himself more in the way of other’s cleaning, rather than actually being useful in the cleanly escapades. He had hoped that the elegant, shapely (but slender) woman from the gather would follow him…
But the heavy-boned pegasus had wandered off a ways from the ruins, sharp raptor gaze sweeping the thin layer of sticky, resilient snow that hid from the warming weather beneath the thick, gnarled branches that surrounded the Rotunda. Hot irises searched for all the things Kis had said to clean: vines, branches, bones.
There had been plenty of bones in the vulture’s life. It was the way of the harsh, plateau life—it was also the way of the man. Though there had (sadly) been a lack of boning since he had come across Helovia’s magical borders. Pale ears tilt back as a particularly strong sweep of his massive, feathered hoof splintered an old, faded skull he was corralling into a pile of other bones. It had been… frustrating for the gargantuan beast.
“Blerrie,” was his gruff grumble as a few sharp shards of the old skull managed to dart through the thick, knotted feathers of his legs and cut his pastern. A breath pushed out of his nostrils as he immediately picked up his now-injured leg; a few, small rivulets of blood bright red against the dark tips of his hoof.
And, being the great man that he was, he clenched his teeth and narrowed his eyes in pain at the small cut. A snort pushed out his nostrils, “Blasted bones.” Ears pinned against his wild mane. Alone, without the company of a woman, and injured. What a day this was becoming.
"HOPING ONE DAY YOU'LL MAKE A DREAM LAST
BUT DREAMS COME SLOW AND THEY GO SO FAST."
Najya wanted to throw herself into the task, she wanted to clean and to purge and to help heal this place. However her own reservations kept her from truly dedicating herself to the task. A’mal, who had not seen the Gods of the Rift descend and wreak havok upon these lands, had no issue with the task and was busy ferrying the bones that both she and her bond mate had gathered from their pile to a pile much nearer to where Kisamoa had beckoned them to come. As she made her trips back and forth, the dragon took stock of the progress of others - watching warily to make sure her pile grew just as steadily as those of the others.
Seeing this much death and decay made the russet mare uneasy, but not because she was squeamish. Instead, the scene inspired memories in the desert mare that she found impossible to suppress. Did bones of her loved ones now litter the sands of the desert she had fled? Is this what had become of her homeland - laid waste and left to decay out in the open, neglected and forgotten. The whole scene made her profoundly uncomfortable, and so she abandoned the pile of bones that she and A’mal had already gathered, small as it was, and she wandered.
Part of her felt guilty for forgoing this task with such little thought, but she knew that she needed a distraction if she was to be of any use to anyone. Plus, she knew that A’mal would not be shaken from her duty, and that gave her some comfort. She hadn’t thought of home and what’d she left in a long time, but certainly wasn’t fond of the feelings that doing so inspired. Bittersweet loneliness and longing. She let out a frustrated huff as she continued to wander, paying little attention to her surroundings and the death and decay all around.
It was a curse, or something like it, that drew her attention and caused her curled ears to swivel in the direction of the sound. It was not a language she recognized, but that did not stop her gaze from sweeping in the direction of the sound for something was vaguely familiar about the sound. Her footfalls came more quickly now as she wove her way through trees and vines and over fallen logs and splintered bones. Until she finally came across the source of the sound - the large pegasus who’d she’d met before. Only this time there was no candy to be found.
There was, however, blood. The little mare’s eyes narrowed as she fixated on the large stallion’s leg, concern quickly replacing good sense and decorum. “Let me see that,” She said, quietly, moving quickly to inspect the source of the blood. “You know,” she murmured, as she raised her head to meet his gaze, “You never did give me your name.” She hesitated a moment, though her eyes revealed a flicker of amusement. “Regardless, would you like me to take of that for you?” she asked with a glance to the leg and back again.
01-16-2017, 03:02 PM (This post was last modified: 01-21-2017, 07:50 PM by Graasvoel.)
fear the vulture and it will come. fear nothing and you are the vulture.
The night of the demon-esque ram and the candy that had littered his mane and tail (—it had taken nearly the entire remaining Orangemoon to rid himself of the stick candies, so tangled were they in his messy locks) floods his mind the moment the quiet, feminine voice filtered into the clearing, “Let me see that.” His starkly white face whipped towards the petite, slender, white-speckled woman, a roguish grin crossed over the pained grimace of his muzzle.
Hot eyes leave their generous admiration of the woman’s light, elegant to dart at the white dragon that accompanied her. His dark brows raise slightly, questioningly, at the winged reptile—as if to ask ’who is this?’— before his attention wholly returned to Nayja.
At her murmur, his gaze left the soft, svelte curve of her white-specked neck to meet the warm hazel of her glance. “My lovely Lady Najya, do forgive me. Your beauty stole my manners,” he grinned and winked in playful flirtation, “I am Graasvoel, but all call me Gaal.” “Would you like me to take care of that for you?” Her offer caught him off guard for a moment, heat pooling beneath his barrel—but then his bright, sharp red-and-yellow gaze followed hers to the dribbling blood (whose sting was truthfully more annoyance than pain; but Gaal was never one to pass up an opportunity).
A wicked response of what he’d like the deep russet, velvet-coated woman to take care nearly left his lips—but instead, he simply nodded his heavy, bearded head, “I’d like that quite a bit,” was his deep, rough, warm reply. Though the clearing was small—especially given his bulk— the vulture didn’t quite shift to it’s outer limit; instead keeping both he and the hot-blooded beauty in close quarters. Off-handedly, a hind hoof kicked a stick towards his (slowly growing) pile.
01-16-2017, 07:34 PM (This post was last modified: 01-16-2017, 07:34 PM by Najya.)
"HOPING ONE DAY YOU'LL MAKE A DREAM LAST
BUT DREAMS COME SLOW AND THEY GO SO FAST."
The little mare felt emboldened around this not so unfamiliar stranger. Najya had never been shy, per se, perhaps always toeing the line between introvert and extrovert. Her thirst for stories always drove her into the lives of others, but all too often she found herself lost in such stories as a child. It was a challenge for her here in Helovia - finding balance - but she found that things were getting easier in time.
A’mal, making a return trip from where she was shuttling bones from one side of the Rotunda to where Kis had addressed them had followed and spiraled down into the meadow, recognizing the candy-man from before. Sniffing around for the delicious treats, the dragon was disappointed to find that this stallion had nothing delicious to offer today, though she was tempted to double check if there were any still tangled in his mane. A’mal, Najya warned through their bond, and instead the little dragon stole a few bones from Gaal’s growing pile and took off back towards her stash across the Rotunda - leaving the equines to their business.
It was then that the large stallion finally provided an introduction, and a complement to boot. Heat flooded to her face, something that she was relatively unfamiliar with, and she ducked her head for a brief moment at the sensation. It took her a few heartbeats to compose herself, and inwardly she couldn’t help but chastise herself for being caught off guard so easily. “Gaal,” she repeated, testing his name on her own tongue. She took a breath before continuing, “I consider myself many things, Gaal, but not a thief,” she added, with a wink of her own finally catching her stride and feeling able to stand toe to toe with the handsome pegasus.
Her hazel eyes then flickered back to his injury as she took a step closer. ”Well then,” she said, smoothly, as she ducked her head to examine the troublesome pastern. Using her magic, she blew the white flames of the Throat’s magic on his ankle, mending the wound and eliminating any chance that the decay clinging to the bones could cause any sort of infection. She didn’t want to think about the possibility of what lingered in the marrow of these bones. Najya found she was quite pleased with her work, and lifted her head again to gauge the large stallion’s reaction. Only she hadn’t realized just how close her work had brought her to the stallion’s side - to his large wings she so admired and his frame that towered over hers.
“Uhm,” she murmured, uncertainly, awkwardly, before continuing, “Anything else?” Her voice was quiet, hesitant even. However she did not move away...
01-22-2017, 09:13 PM (This post was last modified: 01-22-2017, 09:13 PM by Graasvoel.)
fear the vulture and it will come. fear nothing and you are the vulture.
The vulture’s hot gaze did not miss the flush that crept into the delicate, thin skin of the Physician’s cheeks at his compliment. His roguish grin grew at the sight—though his raptor gaze switched from her cheeks to her lips as she tested his name on them. He nodded slightly, approving of her pronunciation of his foreign nickname (or, perhaps more aptly, approving the sound of his name on her tongue).
And, at her next words and wink (the stallion counted his blessings, he liked witty, bold women), a rough chuckle escaped his thick throat, “You’re right, lovely Najya. You are no thief. A thief steals things not willingly given. You need but flutter those beautiful eyes and I am sure any man would give you whatever you desire,” and any other banter he may be followed was quickly cut off by her sudden approach.
His thick skull tilted slightly, caught slightly off-guard at no longer being the instigator. His grin became nonplussed, his eyes questioning as they swept over the soft curves of her body—her actions spoke of a brazen women. But her face—his sharp but confused gaze flicked back to the sculpted, russet expression. Those lovely hazel eyes were neither lusty nor bold. They were quiet, hesitant; only confident as she made quick work of the scrapes at his fetlock.
“I am in your debt,” was his gruff response; and though he placed his thickly feathered hoof on the ground to test her healing, his gaze did not leave hers. “Good as new,” was his approval of his no-longer-injured leg. Gently, his hot muzzle reached to softly press against her withers, a tactile show of gratitude, should she allow it.
And then, as they both lingered in the clearing, he spoke again, “Tell me, Najya, what talents do you have, besides healing?” The question hung in the small clearing’s air on his husky voice.
"HOPING ONE DAY YOU'LL MAKE A DREAM LAST
BUT DREAMS COME SLOW AND THEY GO SO FAST."
Najya once considered herself to be a good reader of people and their intentions. Now, in this moment, she felt she was struggling to keep her head above water. Why did she find him so difficult to read. She could feel his gaze on her and it took her a few moments before she again lifted her eyes to meet his his. Questions blossomed in her mind, but did not find their way to her lips. However his questions of her rang loudly in her curled ears.
Her tongue seemed to turn to ash in her mouth because all of a sudden her other talents seemed utterly irrelevant. She was a healer. She was a lover of stories and enjoyed repeating them. She’d discovered magic here in Helovia she’d since learned to master. She could fight, though she prefered not to. But she somehow got the idea that that was not the sort of answer that fit this particular situation. So again, she found herself evading his questions.
Perhaps it was because the heat from his touch lingered on her withers and spread across her back. It trickled up her neck and she fought to suppress a shiver. It had been a long time since she’d felt the touch of another, and it certainly gave her pause. Memories bubbled up from beneath the surface and she made a concerted effort to fight them back.
”Now Gaal, you can’t expect me to spill all my secrets all at once. Where’s the mystery in that?” Had she been human, she would have raised a brow. He’d have to do with the mischievous glint in her eye. She felt foolish, but it also felt good to let her inhibitions melt away - even if just for a little while.
“Plus. You’ve established that I am, in fact, a healer. But what about you? What about your talents…?” she asked. She felt so exposed in his gaze, yet she knew nothing of him. His talents. His intentions. Or his desires.
02-04-2017, 07:50 PM (This post was last modified: 02-04-2017, 07:52 PM by Graasvoel.)
fear the vulture and it will come. fear nothing and you are the vulture.
The Vulture didn’t—couldn’t—miss the sudden stillness in Najya’s hot skin beneath his muzzle; nor could he miss the soft silkiness of her coat against his lips as they brushed at her withers. Heated, red-yellow eyes glance in the direction of her delicately curved ears and sculpted throat, questioning and curious. She allowed this touch, would she allow… others?
So his muzzle lingered, a rouge grin curving up his dark lips as she answered his question with a mischievous, coy one of her own. “A woman of mystery, eh?” His mildly plateau-accented voice question, purposefully allowing his lips to brush against her russet skin—should she allow him to remain close to her.“I’ve always enjoyed a little intrigue,” his rough voice carefully stressed the words, ladening them with meaning beyond their syllables.
And then his grin grew, massive body beginning to shift as she asked after his talents. Subtly, slowly, his muzzle began to move from its place at her withers to travel gently along her spine. Every so often, his hot gaze would leave their appreciation for the soft curves of her russet skin to glance towards her face, both ensuring that his motions were accepted and checking to see if they were appreciated.
“I could tell you,” was his quiet, murmured reply,“But I’m better with actions than with words,” and his muzzle finally reached the destination of her haunches—where he placed a gentle, teasing nip.
"HOPING ONE DAY YOU'LL MAKE A DREAM LAST
BUT DREAMS COME SLOW AND THEY GO SO FAST."
She was playing with fire and she knew it. But for some reason, she couldn’t bring herself to back away from the flames. The cautious woman, afraid of being burned for so long, was drawn to the warmth.
Yet at the same time, she wasn’t sure who was winning the battle in her mind - her own wants or the memories who refused to fade into the past. The little mare knew that the large pegasus could see the battle, the hesitation, the stillness. But the only real hesitation that kept her frozen were the ghosts that danced behind her eyes. Was it possible to be unfaithful to a ghost? In the back of her mind, memories of a dead mate burned hot in her consciousness. Shahan had been tall and lean and light - the very opposite of Gaal. She knew it was wrong to compare the stallions, and even worse to compare the situations.
Seduction was not something she was at all accustomed to. She’d been sheltered from it her entire life, and then it’d blossomed naturally over time. This was unexpected and unfamiliar to her, but the feeling of being wanted, well that was something she felt she could get used to. Yes, she was awkward. Unsure. Hesitant. But at the same time she liked the way that her skin felt like it was on fire and the way that her heart raced in her chest.
What surprised her most of all was that she wanted. So she did not stop him as his hungry touch roamed her back. She did not pull away and her muscles did not flinch with the unexpected contact. Instead she turned to meet his gaze, and he was sure in that moment he could read the emotions in her eyes better than she knew them herself.
“Okay.” She breathed, as the last of the hesitation died in her voice, ”Then show me.”
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