"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.
04-10-2017, 09:31 AM (This post was last modified: 04-10-2017, 09:33 AM by Rikyn.)
Яikyn
Returning to the tent late into the rise of the Moon, I slip into its silver edged folds, and find the darkness waiting. Closing my eyes as the flap flutters shut behind me, and dwelling in the cool dark for a moment, with only the glow of the mushrooms Duir and I have brought gleaming on my shoulder and upon his antlers (the tines make nice plant holders). Sighing when I open my gaze, and setting the light sources about the floor, and tucking them also between the support beams and fabric of the roof, the space within the enchanted tent is soon illuminated with a peaceful blue light.
Wait outside. Tell me if anyone but Toulouse and Imogen are coming, I tell him, brushing the glowing, residual pollen from the fungi from my muzzle against my knee, preferably well before they’re inside the doorway.
Though it’s late, there is the odd chance of a foal, or some other nosey fellow or another trying to poke their nose in. Deciding its better to be safe than sorry, and not wanting any sort of information becoming wide spread unless absolutely necessary, I’d rather keep it between us.
You could say please, snorts the lightning struck buck as he slips out the flaps and into the night, leaving me alone in the tent to wait for Toulouse and Imogen.
[ OOC: Continuation of Conceit of Deceit, which is a continuation of DON'T GIVE UP, for those interested in following this story arc! ]
Steadily, readily, and full of a strange sense of pleasure the the gelded man struck his way through the ice en rout to the secret tent. There was something immensely pleasing about betraying those who had betrayed him, at least, that was what he assumed Rikyn and Imogen had wished to speak with him about. The Edge, it's operations,
it's enemies, it's faults. He knew it all, and he would not delay in relaying this information to his family; a family that in the few days he had been a part of was already ten thousand times more of a home than the Edge had been. Past the city gates and the conniving, hissing handmaidens to the queen there was not much else in the World's Edge other than an underbelly of petty hierarchy built on whom one knew, not what one knew.
Pale hooves struck the ice with little precision, his eyes glazed and dull as he paced to the entrance of the tent. Tossing his nose first to the right, then to the left, The phantom gave a quick sweep for any pesky onlookers who might wish to learn any secrets divulged within. In truth, the palomino had no real clue what to expect beyond the tent flaps, he just hoped it was not any kind of mystifying initiation.
As his horns parted the silver curtains, his head wading through, The gelding was met with naught but the faint glow of mushrooms beaming from Rikyn's faithful cerndyr. An initiation was still on the table given the ominous lighting. "...good... evening?" The gilded gelding rumbled, tossing his gaze left and right once again and praying to all four of the gods that he would not be subject to any primal song and dance.
the motherland don't love you,
the fatherland dont love you.
so why love anything?
the faithless; they dont love you
the zealous hearts dont love you.
and that's not gonna change.
Waiting outside even after Toulouse enters, Duir spends the duration of our conversation sky-gazing, watching the colorful ribbons of light dance across the star strewn sky. Though he occasionally tilts an ear back towards the tent impotently, amused with how the voices within do not escape the tent, but can be heard if he joins his conscious stream of thoughts with my own.
I, on the other hand, eye the arriving thief as warily as he eyes me, perhaps a trait characteristic to our line of work. Regardless, it’s not long before he’s settled in, and, after waiting for what seems like a polite enough amount of time, I look over at the many-horned man with a most serious expression replacing my more commonly seen, impish smirks and glimmering stares.
"Thank you for coming, Toulouse," I tell him, because I guess he didn’t really have to, "I would like to hear that information you offered to Imogen and I at the meeting this afternoon, now, if you don’t mind. Also, at the very least, why it is you have turned against those you once served so easily."
Perhaps my tone and expression says enough, but I continue, just in case he is far less clever than his haughty demeanor lets on.
"I appreciate the offer, if it is to seal your loyalty," I smile, a dark, twisted thing, "but, if it is not, and this is all but a ruse to garner our trust, to manipulate it to your advantage, I will rule as those before me have, when it comes to betrayal: You will die. It’s simply a matter of time and how clever and swift a rabbit you are."
That smile is suddenly much more lighthearted, however, when I turn to less… threatening topics.
"If that isn’t the case, however, and you truly wish to be a part of this herd, you have nothing to worry about," I finish, "I don’t think anyone here particularly likes killing people."
It did not take long at all for the thief to speak his intentions for drawing him to the secret tent, it's proofed walls providing shelter enough from any ears who might wish to pry.
The threat of death was one the palomino did not fear, especially when he knew in his heart that his intentions were crystal clear. The parseltongue was ready to serve the continent; just not from the mud pit in the west. Still, it was more than wise to not trust him. "If I wished to feign your trust, Rikyn, I would already be successful" The gelding smirked confidently "But no, you are most wise to be wary. I will assure you though that there are no plots or dramatic schemes behind my intentions; I wish only to serve and to continue my work in the north" What he spoke was quiet vague,
his eyes fluttering on the word 'work'. Could he call it that?
Of course he had been anticipating the tedious questioning about his departure from the Edge,
though it was an answer he would give freely by now. "It is not I who betrayed them" He would first clarify "I worked tirelessly for those people; returned a lost herd member, contributed to their economy with treasures. Anything I did that looked even remotely suspicious was misconstrued and I was labelled... well, various unwanted titles. My sole crime was infiltrating the Dragon's Throat, something they dubbed an invasion on my part. I would remind you that these were supposedly my herd, my family, and without knowing my intentions decided to throw up my noose!" "I was looking for one they call Mihtal, a dear friend from before my time in this land..." The thief paused, tracing his eyes over the ground and away from the other male. Perhaps he was fearful of displaying weakness before another man, especially one such as Rikyn. "-and my daughter, Halalì. I came to Helovia in search of her. Tell me, Rikyn, would seas or mere etiquette keep you from your loved ones?"
the motherland don't love you,
the fatherland dont love you.
so why love anything?
the faithless; they dont love you
the zealous hearts dont love you.
and that's not gonna change.
If he thinks he would already have won my trust, he’s wrong. I don’t trust anyone, anymore, not even my own mother; not unless they’ve given me a hundred reasons to, or have always been there for me. Toulouse has neither of these qualities, but he can think what he wants to about me; being young doesn’t mean I haven’t been taught how brittle each relationship we forge is, with one in a hundred being lasting, or meaningful to both parties. I simply smile, an irksome thing, that reads “I know something you don’t know,” but is otherwise as handsome as any other of my expressions (this is me we’re talking about, after all).
What sort of work? I want to ask, as he continues with more than assumptions, but hold my tongue, instead, and let my eyes rove across his face, catching the change of expression, but naïve to its meaning as anything more than that, surely there was more to this work that just doing what he was told. With a narrowing gaze of my own, I let him continue, telling more of what his intensions are, and of what had transpired in the misty woodland.
He explains that he had done for them as he had done here; brought home armor, and weaponry, and exchanged his blood and services for the success of his people. What he explains of his treatment is not all that different from the false kindness of the Dragonheart, who had stolen children from their mother’s flanks under the guise of peace.
So, they are the same as they have always been, I think, the same two-faced people my mother hated, and whom my father had claimed to change, when he went to live with then King Torleik. I close my eyes, and wonder if they had ever changed at all, or if the first time my father’s unerring logic would be felled, would come after he had been, himself.
I open my eyes as he speaks of Mihtal, a name I try to remember for the sake of listening, of watching; I try to remember, also, Halali.
Everyone in this world seems to have lost so much. Was that the cost, for the gift of waking Gods, of magical power and elemental weaving?
"Hm, sounds like the same old Qian tactic to me; smile upfront, and throw daggers from behind. Regardless, etiquette alone doesn’t keep me from other’s borders, personally," I say with a grin, "I’ll do what I want, even if I’m looking for nothing but trouble. Besides…"
I say, sighing, wondering if I should try this open-ness situation Duir keeps suggesting to me, and which Tiamat had too.
"I left everything, to go after someone I loved, once, too," I admit to him, cutting it short, there, because I don’t love her anymore, not after what she did; I hope yours wind up being worth it, "loneliness drives us to do pretty reckless things, I guess. The uh... the Throat isn't gonna come for your head on a stick, are they?"
I ask, with a sidelong smirk.
"You'll need to bring home a lot more stuff to make up for that shit show, if I gotta save your ass from rampaging bird-people," I laugh.