"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.
05-04-2017, 02:01 PM (This post was last modified: 05-04-2017, 03:25 PM by Stellaluna.)
Stellaluna...
Two hours pass like a blur. The little bat quickly grows tired, early in their journey, for she has played the whole night through and the distance travelled during those safe hours of dark, has already been great. So is she nocturnal too, and the growing day and ultraviolet light it brings, burns her soft blue eyes; lashes agitate jadedly, and she is reluctant to go on. The giantess though, is patient, considerate and they pause in a dank, dingy forest to rest; the pup nestles amid the boughs of yet another old oak as it bends and sways against the coursing wind, rocking and lulling her to sleep. She stirs again at evening, when the bleach white streamers trailing across blue, turn dim, dull and grey, as night's first kiss bruises the soft relic light of day; and before anything else, she is excited…
Curious blue eyes plunge between the leafy arms of her host and the ancient timber’s gnarled knuckles loosen their vigilant grip; presently, the bat swings lower, descending his body with the reckless skill of youth, trusting and heedless, even as clawless toes slide and slip along the way. He will catch her, she knows, but he needn’t. The nimble-footed climber with the twisted knees, arrives upon the lowest of his limbs and from there she can see the dark image of Lyanna the pegasus, locked lightly between worlds; though she slumbers, those feminine lines etched across her long, chiselled face flinch and flicker, the lids sit weakly pressed together and the child thinks that soon she’ll wake.
Soon…
The breath of mother-night draws close and the drum of an invigorated heart resonates in her ears; what wonders lie out there, she muses restively, eagerly, and between the silent thrust of wings she swoops away through the strangely flavoured air. Into the next tree she alights, smaller-sized wood she is unfamiliar with - though he welcomes her, tossing heartily the great mass of green at his head. The bat greets him warmly with a press of her nose, but her eyes survey the area beneath; the blackening brook who's pretty babble beckons her down. The child is not hasty, at all - not with the pack still stalking behind. Only when the dark has thickened enough to shroud her, does she drop down to drink.
"Turn on the dark,
I'm afraid of the light!"
Open to anyone @Lyanna | you are welcome to join, but its not necasary :) Stella won't go far enough to interrupt their journey to WE. I can take out my cheeky PP too if you prefer <3
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Permission for all except death
(no need to ask)
05-05-2017, 01:13 AM (This post was last modified: 05-05-2017, 01:14 AM by Pippigrin.)
home is behind the world ahead
there are many paths to tread
The child of stone had flown east, his journey aimed for the threshold, though a detour was made after his wings had started to tire under the weight of the creature that now accompanied him. The baby wolverine, seated in the soft, cushion-like saddle between the hobbit's wings had already grown greatly fond of flying since his hatching a number of days ago. Gifted with the trusty name of Brandybuck, the wolverine was quickly becoming attached to the hobbit - just as Pip was to him.
Finding a gap in the canopy had proved a hard task, but it was landing past the confines of the forest's ceiling all with a creature astride his back was something the half0sized pegasus was unaccustomed to. Touching down with both from feet, Pippin allowed himself down into the glade with a great huff of exhaustion, his wings buckling and steadying as he trotted around the circumference of the clearing, winding down from the speed of his descent.
Night was a time that the halfling would usually be sleeping, though not on a night such as this; beautiful and clear. Perhaps the last for a long time with the changing of seasons having just taken place.
Allowing Brandybuck to tread carefully down his wing, landing in the mossy cover of an oak, Pippin hardly noticed the other near-by. So it was as the hobbit himself made a turn for the glittering stream that he shed his leg guards, using his teeth to knaw open the clasps and buckles, leaving his slingshot, knife, and both leg guards in a neat pile by the stream before he went to enter for a which wash; certainly not noticing the smaller creature upstream from where he stood.
Dipping his wings in first, the hobbit soon progressed to washing each sand-stained feather, humming a tune so bright it lofted over every tree in the glen. Pippigrin turned, eyes gingerly fluttered closed as he gently rubbed his water lathered wing tips over his chest in an effort to scrub his skin, though, upon opening was met with the view of a stranger. "HAY!" The halfling chortled "Are you watching me in the bath!?" He accused, shielding his loins with his wings.
05-05-2017, 05:46 AM (This post was last modified: 05-05-2017, 02:43 PM by Stellaluna.)
Stellaluna...
The water is cold like a leaf long pillowed on stone, but it slides down the hot length of her throat easily; it is sweet, as though born from the belly of the very land she kneels upon, or maybe the soft-flowing stream carries down snow thaw from the mountains (they’d stood sharply in the backdrop of the threshold like a snarling dog’s jaw) - both are theories she entertains, there in the quiet of the moment.
Small ears waver alternately, absorbing the dim chorus of this new night-world. Mr Cricket’s lonely chirp strikes out into the darkness, but no answer follows, for the air grows cooler by the hour and his kin already sleep below ground (it is warmer there); a skitter of tiny paws in the leaf litter behind her, betray the plight of Mrs Mouse who returns to her nest with tightly packed cheeks - the bat turns curiously to see her upon crooked elbows, and they lock eyes for only a split-second before she melts away, back into the thicket.
Inhaling deeply, she samples the musty, moist flavour of the forest. The damp surface of the rocks which border this stream, she notes (because she can see, with gaping, night-conscious eyes), is covered in moss and it is soft when her velvet nose dips to touch. The lichen she knows, is rough and without any strong scent, but the tang is like no other - presently, the pup’s lips peel backwards so that blunt white teeth might chip a morsel free.
As she does, there is a sound across stream that couldn't possibly be the tiny toes of a mouse; a wing kisses the air and the sound is familiar, then hooves touch down and she knows that they come. One glance searches the shadows to her rear, but she presumes the giantess is still resting soundly. She crouches low upon knee and hock beside the gurgle of water, and wraps herself in jet-black membrane so that she might become more invisible. There is movement beyond, another strides down through a glade and her curious mind is enthralled to learn that he is small in stature - with wings.
The nuts that had gathered about her to bath and splash, disperse suddenly, shyly, though their marsupial counterparts linger bravely in place (should there arise reason to flee, they will do so swiftly). The Platypus Twins rest their queer bills above water, beady black eyes watching, waiting, and when the stranger moves to bathe, they plop beneath to paddle closer. The bat sits motionlessly, with baited breath.
He undresses, a spectacle in itself that he should be clad in anything besides hair, and the pretty melody which rings through the dingy silence only serves to feed her interest - only has she ever listened to Ma’s soothing lullaby. So engrossed does she become in his manner and the bath he begins, that she forgets to hold snugly her wings about her, and they loosen soon after to rest upon the bank.
“HAY!”
The bat took flight instantly - hooked thumbs seizing hold of the prickly, flimsy limb of an unsuspecting spruce nearby; the tree’s spindly top bent low beneath her weight as she climbed awkwardly aboard, it had not the strength of the old oaks previously. Glowing eyes return to the small male who stood now strangely, caught between fear and intrigue, and there, balanced as daintily as a crow on a dandelion, she anticipates his next move.
"Turn on the dark,
I'm afraid of the light!"
:) Just so you know, the aussie natives and gumnut babies she sees are imaginary!
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I like to be tagged :)
Permission for all except death
(no need to ask)
home is behind the world ahead
there are many paths to tread
The feathers only drew closer over his legs, shielding each gap and the sacred flesh behind while the Hobbit within gazed wide eyed and dumbstruck as the creature made of fuzz, skin and claw reached her way to an overhanging branch. The tiny wolverine cub toddled out from the underbrush to prod the shield of feathers his friend had created, wishing to clamber back into the warmth his down feather nest had to offer, but now was certainly not the time. Not while the halfling was caught int his ghastly state of undress with what appeared to be a lady watching.
Bewildered for more reasons than one, the halfling stayed frozen a little while longer in the creek bed, the stifle-height water occasionally pricking his stomach as he heaved his breaths in and out. What on earth was that thing who glinted and gleamed back? It's eyes were beautiful, it's shape like most under-underhill hobbits, but wings like that of a bat. How extraordinary. "Hallo" the warrior soon mumbled, tracing forwards across the large creek stones. "I'm Pippigrin" he spoke next, wondering if she was of his kind of another hobbity breed.
"Are you watching me in the noodie?" He would press again, turning his nose on an angle yet still watching her with narrowed eyes. Surely there were better stallions to watch in the bath, Volterra for one would be a most spectacular display of hair flicking and wave crashing, rippling muscles and bending over. He found himself tracing his gaze once again over her wings and their finger-like form, soon finding their way to her bright and starry eyes. He wished to compliment them, the words on the tip of his tongue, though no matter how many times he rehearsed it in his head he couldn't help but feel it was a bit too... creepy? Instead, he settled for something much less romantic, but a compliment none the less. "I like your wings" He whispered, reaching up with the tip of his own feathered pennon in an attempt to touch it, forgetting completely about the shield of privacy he had built with that one fuzzy wing.