"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'm not sure why I'm in such a hurry. It's not like I have anywhere to be.
But, you must understand, I do this sometimes. I work things up in my head to be bigger than they actually are, and I get really excited, and this is one of those things. Helovia is one of those things.
I crash through the forest toward it. Helovia. A name murmured among many of the vagabonds I'd had the displeasure of meeting during my time alone. It wasn't that these vagabonds were unkind or anything - they were actually pretty helpful - but they were impossibly boring. I'd rather stab myself with my own horn than talk to some of those folks again.
Here's the thing about vagabonds: they don't like talking. Not to you, not to themselves... It's really no wonder that they're out travelling alone, all homeless and shit. They can't hold a conversation to save their lives.
This is what I'm escaping from. A life of boredom and ending up like one of these weary vagabonds. And this is what I'm thinking about as I break through the dense foliage that bursts all around me. I make sure my footfalls are hard and heavy; this is me trying to draw attention to myself. I don't like being alone.
The first thing that I notice about any place is the smell. And this place? It smells like life. I'm running, hard, and I'm pumping my nostrils and just smelling the trees and the earth and the undergrowth. Each breath feels like a fresh start. The deeper I go the more I'm certain someone could get dizzy off the delicious scents - my head's already twirling with the sharp dandelion and honeysuckle. I keep going, and even though my hooves are kinda achy and the brush is scratching at my sides, I don't care. I'm here.
When I get to what I guess is the heart of the forest, I let myself collapse into the lush grass. My body meets the soft earth with a thud and I roll immediately over onto my side, kicking out my hooves and stretching my legs. It doesn't take me long to realize that laying here, in all this soft grass, is probably the closest I'll ever be to happiness. And I really don't mind that.
After I'm done stretching, I just kind of lie here. Thinking. The hum of distant cicadas fills my ears and I'm hit with images of home. There's Mom and Dad and Rhuka and I cringe a little bit. Sorry for being such a shithead, I send to them via my thoughts. I won't ever apologize for real, though. Mostly because there's nothing to apologize for.
She has certainly never been one for a life a boredom, but her travels were different than Rhodoc’s. She spent little time with boring, weary, worthless vagabonds (and for the records, she had been a vagabond for a year and she was awesome). Instead her time had been spent with herds and strangers and living a thousand different lives. In some places, she was treated like a queen. In others, she ran for her life. In one, they actually managed to kill her. In another, she was gifting the horns that sit atop her head like a tiara. A stranger gave her the chain and jewel that sits in her horns. A pretty thing, for a pretty thing, the stranger had said. For all Weaver knew the jewel as like Snow White’s apple, but she took it anyway. Perks of being really hard to kill.
But eventually, the need for a home called to her. What about Helovia made her stay? Promise. She’d heard rumors of the place, and for one, it seemed like as good a place as any to stay. But two, those that knew of it spoke of what you could become. The same had been true in her old home, but that place didn’t belong to her. It belonged to her mother and she was really, really tired of living under her mother’s shadow. Weaver lived under no one’s shadow.
And so, she left. Eventually, she came here. And now, she stays. In the end, the story is pretty simple.
She’s actually got some time to slip away to the Threshold today, to do one of her many jobs now that she bothers to live in a herd and actually have responsibilities. She’s wandering around feeling mildly discouraged at the silence that permeates this place when someone loud catches her attention. That seems to be a thing here. Loud. The children she’d stumbled on last time had been loud enough to wake the dead. This dude wasn’t far behind them.
She follows the source of the sound, catching sight of a stallion as he rolls around in the grass. Well, she assumes he’s the source of the sound, but that this point, he’s pretty quiet. Just laying there like he’s waiting to be stepped on. Not that Weaver stepping on him would do much damage, but there were others far larger than she. “Lovely day for a lie down,” she says, instead of what the hell are you doing? because she’s trying to be polite. Raven sits on her back, not really caring much for this whole recruiting process, though he seems pleased she doesn’t start out by being a complete ass.
It feels so good lying here that I almost fall asleep. Almost - because just as I'm slipping out of consciousness, a voice makes its way through the trees. The voice is unfamiliar and new, and all feathery-feminine. It catches my attention right away and I lift my head in time to see a woman stepping toward me. She's dressed in black and white and has a pair of wings balanced between her withers, and there's a bird perched on her back.
I try my best at a polite smile, but I'm really just hiding the fact that I'm checking her out. She's pretty, I'll allow her that, but she shouldn't feel too special. I check out everybody.
After I get an adequate look, I raise my plum-colored eyes to hers and let a smile spread across my lips. "You know what? You're so right. It is a lovely day for a lie down," I answer back with more verve than necessary, flipping my leonine tail with each syllable. "Why don't you come and join me?"
After of all, there's plenty of space. I watch the winged mare easily, certain that she's not going to turn me down, but then I frown. Where are my manners? This is what I get for hanging around with a bunch of vagabond lowlifes: I forget how to do things properly. "Damn. I'm so impolite," I huff, shaking my head at myself. "A gentleman always goes to the lady, not the other way around. You'll have to excuse me, I'm all mixed up today."
I roll over once more before getting back to my hooves, and immediately I miss the plush embrace of the forest carpeting. Once I'm standing, I take a few assured steps towards the stranger. I hope she doesn't mind that I'm looking a bit disheveled, but in my defense, it's been a rough few weeks. Shaking some of my mane out, I pause before her and give a little dip of my head. "I'm Rhodoc. And to whom do I owe this delicious pleasure?"
03-26-2017, 03:09 PM (This post was last modified: 03-26-2017, 03:10 PM by Weaver.)
She checks out everyone too. Everyone should, really. The world is a big place, with plenty of boys to go around. She’s never quite understood picking one and sticking to them forever. There are too many different kinds for that, though Weaver definitely has a type. Rhodoc definitely appears to be her type. Flirtatious, unabashed, handsome. He is black, purple and blue, not unlike her. Though she has white instead of purple, but there’s the blue rune on her chest and the blue veins that run through her horns and the blue sheen to her wings.
He smiles, and then speaks, and his words bring that playful, Cheshire grin to her face. Her amber eyes sparkle with delight and mischief, pretty sure she’s found a good one sprawled out on the grass in the Threshold. Of course she wasn’t going to turn him down, but before she has a chance to sprawl on the grass beside him, he’s shaking his head and calling himself impolite. The gentleman always comes to the lady, he says, getting to his feet instead.
It’s probably better, but she definitely wouldn’t have minded a lie down herself. But she smiles, adding, “How very chivalrous of you,” sounding sincere with just a hint of amusement behind those words. If he looks dishelved, Weaver doesn’t notice. It’s a look she goes for on purpose, a sort of wild beauty, the kind that doesn’t look like it’s trying at all. But of course, she’s aware of it, aiming for that wild look, and so she is trying. But no one else needs to know that.
“Delicious, hm?” she says with a bit of a purr, enjoying the attention as she always does. “Weaver. It’s a pleasure to meet you Rhodoc.” This she actually means, because she always like playthings. Especially playthings that like playthings in return. “And how did I get so lucky as to stumble upon someone as delicious as you in the Threshold? Looking for a home?” She puts an emphasis on the word delicious, enjoying throwing it back to him. It has a nice ring to it.
03-26-2017, 04:24 PM (This post was last modified: 03-26-2017, 04:26 PM by Rhodoc.)
Rhodoc
Already she's a thousand times more interesting than any loner I've tried chit-chatting with. I'm immediately relieved she's not one of those uppity mares that gets offended when I so much as smile in their direction. Rather than spitting at me (which has happened, believe it or not), she takes my sugared words and flings them back at me with equal force, or with even more so.
I'm certain I'll be able to get away with a lot with this one.
I do a lot of smiling and eyelash batting, and the woman's grin does not go unnoticed. Here's something about me: I'm good at making people smile. It's one of my more redeeming qualities.
"Delicious, hm?" She says, and I give a big nod. "That's right. D-e-l-i-c-i-o-u-s." My tail tosses a few times behind me and I let my gaze wander again over my new friend. I notice the glint of blue on her feathered wings, as well as a strange marking on her chest of the same color. At some point, I think I make eye contact with the bird that sits on her and there's a short hey that leaves me.
Okay, my conclusion? She's bangin'.
She gives me her name now, and I take it with a hunger, folding it up inside my brain so I can save it for later. Once it's safe there, I test it out, seeing how it feels in my mouth. "Weeeaver," I repeat, drawing it out for good measure. Weaver. As in dreamweaver. What a coincidence.
Now it's her turn to call me delicious, and I revel in the compliment. Another thing about me: I like getting compliments. They make me all warm and fuzzy on the inside, and Weaver's is no exception. Her questions are big, bold ones - which I don't mind at all - and I straighten up a little and roll my head back, pretending to think real hard about my answer. "Well, sweetheart, it just so happens that I'm running from my past," I chime, the words rolling from my tongue with confidence. This much is true, and I don't mind telling her the truth. "And as far as homes go, does it happen to be with you? "
Although, nothing against the lady of course, I'd be happy to live anywhere if it meant I was free from the hell lonerism is. Weaver's just a special bonus.
She relieved he’s not some honorable bugger like her General who takes offense at the very first quip. She likes Erebos, actually, but she finds she’s been busy watching her tongue lately. Around him, and just about everyone else. Except maybe Beloved, who just cackles strangely and doesn’t seem too likely to judge Weaver. But this stallion is fun, even if he’s taking a whole lot of credit for her smiles and her playful demeanor. Let him take credit, as long as she gets to have a little fun. Because behaving all the time sort of sucks.
It’s probably why she likes to fight. It’s like a free license to do the things you are otherwise not supposed to do. An excuse to beat things up and break normal decorum that actually rewarded. She’s even got some magic now to help her fight, which she needs, because she’s small and rather weak, all things considered. The only thing that makes her a decent fighter is the fact she can’t die, and she’ll throw herself into any situation without pause.
This is not a fight, and it’s not necessarily frowned upon either, but it’s equally as fun.
Raven is entirely un-amused by whatever is happening between Weaver and this new stallion, though he radiates pleasure when Rhodoc catches is eye and offers a hello. He caws slightly, and then returns to being completely un-amused by the entire thing. Then his name rolls out of her mouth, long and low, like he’s tasting the sound of it. She lets him carry on until they get to the meat of the conversation.
“Aren’t we all?” she says, stepping closing, closing the distance between them slightly until she’s beginning to encroach on what would be considered personal space. Her words are smoky, drawn out just a bit to let them linger longer. “Of course it’s with me. I’m not selfless enough to let a catch like you go so easily. I live in the mountains to the north, in a place called the Aurora Basin. They have an affinity toward unicorns there, so you’ll fit right in.” He’ll fit in anyway, with the odd collection of priceless works of art they’ve got up there. Yea, that sounds about right. There’s not really a better way to describe the Basin.
"Aren't we all?" This makes me chuckle, but that doesn't make it any less true. For a moment, I watch her with a decidedly curious expression, wondering just what kind of past she's running from. Maybe I'll ask her about it sometime, or maybe it'll come up on its own. Past lives have a way of doing that, you know. But anyway, she doesn't expand on it and I don't ask her to, because she's already on to more exciting topics.
I'm delighted to learn that said home belongs to Weaver as well. I'm also equally delighted to be called a catch, and I grin. I am a catch, aren't I? But that's beside the point, because now I'm thinking that I'm about to be shagging up with this girl in this place called the Aurora Basin. I don't know, I've never heard of the place, but it sounds good enough for me. In the north, mountains... Sure. Love it.
If it's anything like this place - the Threshold, she called it - then I'll be set. "And I'm not dumb enough to turn down such a generous offer," I coo back, wiggling my brows. Although truly, I'm fucking relieved. No more wandering aimlessly, no more worthless vagabonds, no more boring.
At least I hope not. Weaver, this place better not suck.
But really, I have no reservations. Aurora Basin, home sweet home. "But tell me a thing, sugar," I prompt easily, for the first time noticing her closeness. I'll take credit for that, too, by the way. I'm magnetic."Must be a pretty large crowd if you're so willing to take in dirty strangers, hm? Or am I just lucky to have caught you on a good day?" Not that it matters. The more the merrier, really.
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