"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.
In the livid crimson of the early evening sunlight, a blade glimmers.
The pirate stumbled upon the deer-hilt knife in the dirt, and gleefully added it to his collection. Since losing his swords to the thieves - the thieves he still has not tracked down to reclaim his possessions - he has been sorely lacking in weaponry. His two daggers are not what he's used to, but they are better than nothing. The lack of his magic means he cannot wield them as he once did, whirling around him like a silver storm, but he can still brandish them in his mouth.
That is what he does with his newly-acquired weapon. The hilt, wound with rawhide for grip, is clutched firmly between his teeth, the deadly blade poking out in preparation. Bartholomeo wanders into the centre of the World's Edge, the early evening finally chasing away some of the searing Tallsun heat. The stallion's muscular body glows with a light sheen of sweat, the orange horizon creating an ethereal glow around him as he strides to a halt with a snort. It is high time for him to test himself against another Edge member, especially given his position as warrior, and now he has a new knife to use he feels more than ready to reassess his abilities.
He pauses, tossing his proud head with excitement, and unleashes a bellow for an opponent. He stands with legs braced and his truncated tail held high, powerful neck arched and antlers pointing forwards in preparation.
""
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For @Tilney ! Set in the World's Edge, early evening, still warm but not unbearable.
It was a call greatly familiar to the flaxen physician.
The battle cry and vibrant stomp of his eldest brother was a bellow he had heard many a time, especially as a colt. The tops of grassy dunes had been their battleground, imaginary ships and the ghosts of make-believe comrades littering the beach front. The noble Captain Greenthorne versus— oh, what had Bart called himself? These memories were made far too long ago.
How Tilney had loved his visits to his brother. As a colt, it had been the summer adventure by the seaside he had looked forward to all year, and not because of the brilliant sea wind, not even the cheek-grazing kind. Nor was it because of those wondrous summer nights, the ones spent under the light of nothing but campfire and starlight.
It was because of brother Bart.
The challenging cry echoed within his mind, and so did the memories. Rewinding and replaying, flashing and laughing, he tried to continue his day-to-day greenhouse duties.
With the string tied from Bartholomeo's mind to his, however, it was becoming impossible.
With a great snort and a stomp of his own, the ginger man chewed nervously on his lip. He had much to do... but he could not let this challenge go unanswered. Only noble Captain Greenthorne could fight Black Bartholomeo.
...Black Byron? Barty Black Bone?...
And so it was with an excited huff that the flaxen father burst from the greenhouse, his cloven hooves sending him through the conifers and darting over cinnamon fern until he met the devious pirate in the very center of their homeland.
Skin laden with a fresh sheet of shimmering perspiration, Tilney gave a powerful snort in his brother's direction; one to echo throughout the dust and summer breeze.
"We meet again" He growled, a smirk soon to follow.
For old time's sake; that was the doctor's excuse.
The glimmer of the blade hung from the branded man's chops gave Tilney the shivers, though it also greatly excited him. It had upped the stakes greatly from Captain Greenthorne and Bad Byron's last precarious encounter. "You seem to have gathered quite a collection of weapons there-ahh... Captain Bad Barty?"
In truth, Tilney had no arsenal of weapons; only his horns. The ginger one would not let this scratch over his confidence; he had a reasonable chance, as inexperienced as he was.
So it was with a grunt that Tilney expanded his lungs, stepping forth upon his left-front hoof and begun his approach.
The ginger gent kept his sharp crown low as he thrust his weight towards his center, bounding with great power towards his opponent in an attempt to ram the pirate in his right shoulder. It was his plan to pierce the painted one's skin with his tines and bruise him upon impact; perhaps even send him flying if he caught him too unnawares. His breathing steady and cautious, Tilney begun his calculated assault, attempting to crash his impressive set of antlers directly into Bartholomeos shoulder.
attack 1/3
words; 489
summary; Tilney attempts to ram barty with his antlers in the right shoulder by lowering his crown and approaching at a great speed.
Brother! The pirate's jaws split into a broad smile as he claps eyes upon his brother, and he tosses his head with a huff of greeting. "Tilney!" he booms happily, his earthy eyes twinkling. His grip on the knife lessens somewhat - surely gentle Tilney isn't going to take him up on his request to battle? - but the flaxen man's words would suggest otherwise. The use of a childhood nickname makes a great guffaw leave his chops, ebbing away like the pulsing of the tides into a gentle rumble of laughter. "That's Big Bad Barty, if you don't mind," he corrects with another chuckle and a wiggle of his scarred brows.
But then Tilney steels himself, prepares to attack. Bartholomeo is momentarily taken aback, because they haven't sparred since they were boys! Back when they were young colts tussling for dominance, their bodies flooded with fledgling testosterone and their antlers mere nubs atop their heads, they'd play-fight all the time. Those memories are fond ones for the stag, yet they are intrinsically mixed up with images of Jack at that age, the two tendrils of thought tangled together like ship's rope. His son hadn't had any brothers to spar with, but there had been a few colts in Bart's crew of a similar age, and Jack had acquitted himself admirably against boys that were usually larger and more rambunctious than he was. Whenever Jack returned home from these squabbles, his skin bloodied and bruised but his face alive with glee, Bart had never scolded him. He'd just smiled happily and dreamed of the day when he would be able to cross swords with his son, teach him the true art of battle, and watch him blossom like a flower into a man.
It never happened. His spars with Tilney, however, did, and he holds them fondly to his chest like he needs them to breathe. Maybe he does.
Forcing these melancholy musings aside, the bay focuses on his opponent. Their heights are identical, but Bartholomeo's pure Warlander blood shows in his thicker build and stockier limbs. Tilney's blood is diluted with whatever his mother was - that's what happens when Father slums it with the mongrels, Bart used to jest, his eyes always twinkling with mirth - and that will undoubtedly lend the palomino greater endurance. Bart, though, has the edge on strength, and he always has his surprising agility to fall back on.
It should be an evenly matched fight, though, just like it was when they were boys. With a determined narrowing of his eyes, the stag grips his knife tighter.
Tilney charges, and the Warlander is prepared for it. Bracing his limbs against the ground (hard enough to provide good footing, soft enough to cushion the thundering hooves - perfect), he throws his weight forwards, causing Tilney's antlers to whistle past his hind end without causing any damage. Slamming on the brakes to arrest his forward momentum, Bart throws his weight to his forelegs and kicks out his back hooves twice in an attempt to slam them into his brother's right shoulder or side, depending on how fast Tilney can apply his own brakes after his failed charge. The pirate puts enough force into his attacks to hopefully hurt the paler man, but not enough to permanently wound him should he hit - that wouldn't be very brotherly!
The stag's heart beats like a staccato in his chest, and there's the widest of smiles wrapped around the knife in his mouth. This is what he lives for - the sweat brewing across his flesh, the thrum of energy in his muscles. This is what he's missed. The fact he's doing this with his brother is just the icing on an already very tasty cake.
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For @Tilney ! Set in the World's Edge, early evening, still warm but not unbearable.