"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.
Bird Song may have arrived but the snows of the North remained, the odd patch of hardy grass proving the only decent meal for the little Ghost. A filly of stark contrast to the ice world around her with pelt as black as pitch, vacant pools and a razor horn that had grown like her body, slim and solid. It was her wings that broke the endless cycle of darkness, her feathers sporting white and red, a parting gift of her late father who she never knew. The little filly's mother had always said she looked like the image of her sire, with the only inheriting gift from the malicious dam was cold eyes and a sharp horn. Typical of her mother, who had now disappeared from the land of Helovia. She knew nought of other relations, even though she had many, none had ever spoken to her and so the Ghost never knew.
Thick snow lessened as she walked onto a spare patch of grass, leaning down to take a clump and chewing it with speed. Thick fur lined her growing body, she was used to this landscape now and it's echoing halls, not a soul came to find her. Not a soul would know who she was, expect maybe the ice King or the bay unicorn warrior of the Foothills. It was a sad life, to be born to such a vibrant busy land and know so few. It made her withdrawn, uncaring, her mother had raised her well in her own eyes. She could now spear things with her black sword and sharpen it on stunted trees, the wings were cumbersome however. Little Ghost didn't know how to fly, for who would teach an outcasted filly like her. No one cared about little Ghost who was shunned for her winged appendages and she watched, with emotionless pools, as a red feather fell to the white snowy floor.
12-20-2012, 09:29 PM (This post was last modified: 12-20-2012, 09:30 PM by Prometheus.)
Prometheus & Pyr
our own little corner of the world
Oh inverted life of ours! In the distance, through the cold, is a picture of lone, small dark filly, with wings of pitch white and red. Together we stand, lighter than the ice beneath us, I with dove wings smattered in red and lined in midnight. The wings of the fallen Irc, the foolish, beautiful beast that fell to his end and left himself behind for us to scavenge. Ourselves and the stranger, who stands a shadow amongst the steppe- complete opposites, yet still we encounter our tortured selves. What a chance meeting, what a curious happening, is taking place in the cold of the Steppe today.
But we are no scavengers now, no. You are the hunter's pride and joy, bold and wild, powerful and sturdy. I am in the form of a stallion majestic, with wide white wings that blend perfectly to the flesh of the prince. I walk with wings spread and feathers ruffling in the cold air of this place, this place which lives eternally in frostfall. My horn is long, precious; it cuts the ice upon which I walk, drags behind and leaves a line for you to follow. And follow you do; blindly, plagued with love and yet totally unattached by any former bond. What we have lost between us is made up for in other ways; in the sharing of blood as it smatters across our hides after the hunt, in the sound of tearing flesh and the faint whisper of death in the air.
The land here is curious and the air tastes of a foul future lying naked before us. I let my tongue trace the outline of my teeth- my fresh, living teeth. I feel powerful and handsome, wonder if my life might be more cavalier if I did not carry my mind within this sculpted skull. I consider myself a creature of the gods, worthy of their company yet never deigning to keep it. Yet still I consort with mortals, wretched and foul as they are. Still I keep your company and still I walk closer to the filly in the distance.
Walk closer until there is barely anything between us.
01-04-2013, 04:16 PM (This post was last modified: 01-04-2013, 04:19 PM by Ghost.)
Will your smile always be beautiful?
Even if you hide your true self.
She watched the strange child with a blankness and incomprehension. An urge to shudder came over her yet she knew not why, the cold steppe's dreary sigh of damp clung to her pitch mane. Bedraggled and sodden, she moved not an inch nor did she flinch as Prometheus walked straight up to her. Head managed a shift in his direction, lonely eyes met his for the first time and Ghost almost found an understanding there. This child was different too. Not accepted but yet, he seemed more content within himself. Another urge. This one to flee, for a tiger was in his presence. Yet Ghost resisted all emotion and remained still. She drew her head up fully now and regarded the colt, he seemed marvellous in his form. Strong and powerful. Impressive to a young femme. It made the little Ghost wonder, what brought him here? Had he too been outcast? Did he really care?
"Poor boy" was all she offered the varnished steed, her voice so quiet and like a whisper that echoed. Her breath clearly visible on the cold air. Ghost unruffled her wings and flicked the snow from them that had collected there during storms, it revealed a skinny bodice that made her seem like simply skin and bone. There were caves around she could shelter in, and forage that now grew around her. Yet, Ghost often lost herself in her own dream world that she forgot about where she was and the growls of her belly.
She examined the red haired boy once again. He had wings like her own, and white feathers that she too possessed. Her father, a foolish bird whose feathers she wore, was the reason she was no longer accepted. Pity was all she could feel for the stallion in front of her, who seemed to be of the same species as herself. If only there was a way to rid herself of her cumbersome appendages, then maybe she could return home.