"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.
She shrieked her fury at the swarthy adversary. Her soft brown eyes blazed with an uncommon anger as the delicate creature stood upon her hind legs to viciously lash at the shadow with her front hooves. Alas, as her hooves sliced through it the beast remolded its wretched pieces together again. A string of laughter, sharp like the ragged edges of broken glass, resonated in her ears and chilled her to the bone. It was devoid of happiness, absent of contentment. This beast knew nothing of mercy, nothing of forgiveness, nothing of love. It loomed above her with a fiendish smile curling what she assumed was its’ mouth whilst a sickly tar-like tendril was raised above her horrified face. ”You have no place here anymore, little mare.” it warbled viciously… and then raked its’ appendage across the length of her face with a malice that could only have been forged from the very depths of Hell. Nieque, Imiq, nor Sepagus could save them now for they were doomed! The inhabitants of Anarore scurried for their very lives and the legacy she’d created was little more than ash now as the chaos burned it all away. Alas, she could no longer fight. Blood pooled in the gashes ripped open across her dainty visage and dripped to the ground – the ground that caught her as she fell devoured by blackness or shadow. She couldn’t decide…
She didn’t sleep much these days for every time Armada closed her eyes she was bombarded by memories so miserable they were akin to nightmares. Life, fantasy, nightmares, it all seemed to blur together now but she didn’t mind. Her lack of comprehension seemed to ease her pain. It was easier to feel nothing at all than suffer the past. She’d lost so much…
She was nothing now.
Amidst the pandemonium that fateful day the shadows had overrun her home she’d lost everyone. Julius, her sons Ink, Solomon, and Vermillion, her feline companion, and Kei even though he’d hated her more than loved her near the end of it all…
Gone.
The uncertainty of it had driven her mad half mad. Were they alive or dead? Had any of them made it through that catastrophe? Alone, forgotten, alone… alone, alone, alone! The grey mare shook her head roughly from side to side and expelled a calloused snort. Her almond eyes, embittered by her losses, focused on the rustic bark of a tree just ahead of her. It was cast with an eerie glow from the tree’s bulbous lantern – a peculiar sight to see indeed though she could rustle up no inkling of wonderment for it. A harsh winter wind nipped unforgivingly at her sensitive skin and caused a shudder to ripple down her spine. She’d always had a thin coat. Her poor health seemed to dictate her lack of winter fur and as a result Armada was accustomed to warmer climates.
Still, the sting of winter ensured her that she was alive. It was a welcomed feeling. One that didn’t dredge up the past and coerced her to be a woman of the present.
07-15-2013, 01:42 PM (This post was last modified: 07-15-2013, 01:43 PM by Seele.)
I had traveled down here too many times as of late. The cold weather was doing little to satiate my desires for movement. In fact, it pulled me to move even more in an attempt to pull my hide into a warmer state of being. Perhaps you should just freeze, Recke. Then I wouldn't have to climb around in your head all day! Unheil complained, as though he had somewhere better to be. Though, I could understand why one wouldn't want to be locked up in my cranium - it wasn't necessarily the nicest place in the world. But, that was me. And no one was about to go and change that.
Crystalline hooves floated above the snow covered ground as I ducked around trees. I was careful to move at a pace that was slow enough to gain the idea of my surroundings but fast enough to not easily be snuck up on from any angle. I stayed out of the lanterns that offered the ominous glow and path but stayed close enough to their trail to know I was still headed upon the correct path. My inkling coat could easily meld in with the shadows as I shuffled my feet along. But, my yellow eyes were forever locked with a taste for blood or uncertainty of the jumbled voices continually shuffling through my brain in such violent manners.
Someone is ahead, mein kleine, Innerste pushed, her sweet soprano chords muting the other two stags for a few moments to allow me to process her comment. Instantly, my flints dug into the ground and my orbs peered around before me. I could sense the presence of another but I couldn't place their position in relation to me. So, straining my eyes in the darkness I continued to ebb forward, careful not to make too many noises with my movements so as to keep my presence as little known as possible.
For, I was a creation of shadows and souls and, as such, I was not one to be noticed unless I wanted to. A few more steps forward and I had locked my eyes upon a frame that seemed to be withering away as I soaked her frame in. Scars illuminated from the eerie glow placated upon her face marking up to a past that had to have some terrible incident at the very least if not having been scattered with them. And the mare seemed cold, her frame shuddering - though I couldn't tell if it was from the eerie feeling of the world around us or the actual bitter cold that was snagging onto everyone with a lack of respect or personal space.
Once I was certain that she seemed to be alone I allowed my frame to slide out of the shadows and into the amber light of the radiating lantern. "Ello there, Kalte," My voice floated out into the air, harsher consonants than usual were attached to the german words which flowed from my soprano chords. Yellow orbs locked upon her as the amber light pulled out my blood markings upon the points on my coat with an intensity that was lacking in the sunlight. "Are you seeking a place to call a home?" I inquired, prepared to offer my band of misfits to the mare before me.
561 words
The band Seele will explain is called the Asylum and is inside the parenthesis because the background is the same colour as the link.
(The Asylum)
@[Armada] - let me know if you don't want me tagging each post and I won't ;3
Translation-
Recke - warrior
mein kleine - my (poor) baby
kalte - cold/chill
07-15-2013, 03:18 PM (This post was last modified: 07-15-2013, 03:28 PM by Yseulte.)
She hated it. Hated it more than anything, this darkness. Yseulte was a desert flower that flourished beneath the intensity of the sun's scorching rays and blistering touch, and relished the feel of hot, dry wind running through her silver-gold hair like a man's loving caress. Where have you gone, my King of Thieves? She even missed the hiss of scorpions streaking through burning golden sand and the deep, thunderous thrum of a rattlesnake's buzzing tail rattling in the sparse shade of sagebrush and cacti. The sky was always a bright cornflower blue, and her tough skin was nearly scrubbed raw by sand, wind, and sun. She could go without water for days, survive suffocating sandstorms, and navigate by the stars, but what good were those skills when Helovia was clad in eternal winter and a plain cloak of immortal darkness that lacked the luster of decorative diamond stars?
Yseutle did not particularly care for trees, either, now that she considered it. She could not see the endless sky, could not feel the warmth of the sun on her back. Not that it mattered, anyhow, as everlasting darkness had settled across the sky, draping Helovia in a cloak fashioned from night, shadow, and cold. The sun never rose in the east, it did not set in the west. It never rose at all. The cool, twisting darkness and the labyrinth of trees was much more suited to Itzal's slinking, stalking ways. But struggling through the wild depths of the tangled woods where dark things slumbered was the only way to recruit future sisters, and so stumble blindly through the darkness after Itzal she did.
Her heart was glad when Itzal snarled to notify her of company ahead. The Threshold was usually alive with sweet meadow lark song and the murmur of wind through the ferns, but in this blackness, the somber forest was stiff, silent, and dead. Sighing, she limped after her restless tiger companion through the crusted snow as he relayed the two strangers' conversation to her mind. Her crippled hind leg ached more than usual in the cold ferocity of winter, and so she followed Itzal's nimble, bounding form slowly, wincing occasionally as the pain thrummed deep within the marrow of her bones. Minutes later, she halted by her companion's side as he crouched low to the snow, his violet eyes glittering like amethyst gems against the sparkle of the snow.
Unlike the glass-horned mare, Yseulte did not attempt to move silently through the shadows, because if it were her standing alone and bewildered in the middle of a pitch black forest surrounded by bizarrely glowing mushrooms and trees, she would certainly want prior notice before somebody came creeping up in the dark, else she'd probably gore the rotten sneaker right through the eye. And so Yseulte was sure to notify the two mares of her approach by greeting them warmly as she paced towards them slowly. "Hail, sisters." The luminescent glow washed over her face as she joined them, taking in both of their appearances in the eerily throbbing light source. She noticed the pale gray mare glancing curiously at the glowing sources. "Peculiar, aren't they?" Beautiful as well, certainly.
But in Yseulte's experience, beautiful things were often treacherous.
Compared to the two rather plain mares, Yseulte felt like a bizarrely colored circus creature, with her lavender skin, pale stripes, long silver-gold hair, and snide little tiger in tow. "My name is Yseulte," she offered at last, gazing at each woman in turn. "Welcome to Helovia. I'm from father south." The unicorn with the sparkling translucent hooves and horn possessed a pleasant face with curious markings the color of blood and she seemed familiar and confident in her surroundings, but the guttural, harsh tones of her voice suggested some foreign exoticness.
However, despite the exotic flavor of the bay unicorn, the thin gray equine's quiet simplicity intrigued Yseulte more. The equine seemed not to have faired the winter well, and Yseulte could certainly relate. Before Helovia, winter was foreign, alien concept to the desert flower. She then traced the deep gashes that crisscrossed the mare's wane face like an elaborate tapestry, not bothering to disguise the admiration apparent on her expression. What savage creature had ravaged and shredded the woman's face within an inch of her life? It was a wonder the mare wasn't blind. But those eyes were clear and hard, obviously experienced in the ways of the world and its cruelty. The stranger appeared so frail and delicate, incredibly so, but to survive such a violent attack? Clearly the equine was more than capable of fending for herself. Whatever concerns of weakness that had initially clouded Yseulte's mind vanished immediately.
When the unicorn inquired about the mare seeking a home, Yseulte leaped at the opportunity. She was a woman of action, and not one to beat around the bush. "You would be most welcome among the Valkyries. We are an independent sisterhood, free of men and the rule of kingdoms," she said simply. In the game of recruitment, you had to move quickly, else you'd be left in the dust. That had been the unicorn's first mistake: hesitating. Yseulte was all too familiar with the bitter taste of failure on her tongue as she was forced to watch the pale lord of the north whisk her recruit away into the gathering gloom. "I do not extend this invitation lightly, but I believe there is more to you than meets the eye."
yseulte & itzal,
ALL THE WAYS I GOT TO KNOW
YOUR PRETTY FACE AND ELECTRIC SOUL.
She simply didn't know; know what to do, nor where to go. Her heart was leaden with the painful memories coaxed forth by her constant company with Yseulte. Of course the Vasílissa of the Valkyries did not intentionally wrest forth the burning images that Hespera had tried so very hard to bury. But it was impossible to not look at her and not see Berian, the little bay mare, and then their wonderful and terrifying adventures. Even her clean, burnished-beaked companion, miffed at the tiger cub who rudely pushed him aside, agreed with her that they must stay with the lavender maiden, even if what she conjured forth was not the pleasant memories a pretty flowergirl would have.
So she became a silent ghost, half-guard and half-friend, who followed Yseulte even when her legs trembled and her breath heaved from the long hours of walking and tripping and stumbling through the dark like a blinded fool, cuts opening up on her legs as branches snared her, trying to keep her in their thorny clutches. Her oath she took seriously, etching it deeply into her spirit and heart, repeating it over and over, letting it become a simple mantra for who she was. In this world, she was worth nothing. Like all the others, she would be forgotten except by the closest of family; for people say that people will remember, they try and say that you are worth something to the history of mankind, but you are nothing. Nothing worth remembering- you will be forgotten quicker than the lost man's footprints in the desert, or a unicorn's light steps in a snowstorm. One is simply a grain of sand on the seashore; even the curious child will not pick up every grain and admire it.
The cold wore on her more than anything, the constant nibble of it on her ears and muzzle. Hespera did not know if winters were always this cold- neither did Otienu, for he was still a hatchling, just as new to the world of sensations as she was. She wished it was gone- it hurt her lungs as she inhaled, even as her nostrils warmed the air. Darkness was tiring as well- her eyes had stopped aching, stopped trying to adjust, but even the faintest gleam of light scalded them as if someone had put fire up to her eyeballs. Needless to say, it was an unpleasant sensation. Sometimes she wondered when the lights turned on- if they ever turned on- if her windows to the world of images would even work.
Otienu flared his wings, furling them to his sides as he landed heavily on his paws-slash-talons. He was always a little difficult to describe, with his mismash of body parts. Of course, the little griffon wasn't as bothered as Hespera was by the darkness. Perhaps it came from him knowing not much else- but he didn't mind it at all now, nor did he fear it. On the other hand, his companion being in the dark- mostly alone apart from a measly annoying tiger cub and haughty annoying mare did spark up a bit of fear in him- as one may observe, the griffon didn't think the highest of the pair. So the little boy tried to be a man, and was always watching for trouble.
The softest of exhales tumbled from her dark lips, the stormchild moving quicker to approach Yseulte's flank. Most of the blood had dried on her flanks, some of it worn away. A glimpse of scarlet here, a touch of dark brown there.
But it was nothing compared to the scars decorating the thin gray equine's face.
She had seen this type of thing before- in Paen, painted blue and white and red, wielding the white reaper Weneoa, the paint never hiding the hideous gray scars that clung to him like ticks to a dog; the hardness in his eyes as he reared, dust billowing beneath his ebony hooves, issuing a battle cry that would haunt for the rest of her life. The mare did not look like the chief, yet nevertheless the look in her eyes was the very same, and it sent chills crawling through Hespera. It took an effort to conceal how frayed her nerves were- yet she hid it well, and no trace of emotion disrupted her serene, but watchful, features.
Otienu uttered a peculiar half-meow, half-screech, with a bit of rumble in the back of his throat, rubbing his body up against the stormchild's legs. The warmth of his hide was a soothing cup of tea on a winter's day, and the tension eased from her muscles.
There were many words lying on the tip of her tongue, ready to be spoken with eloquence and the careful craftsmanship of a master, but she refrained.
Remember, here she was nothing but a body guarding another body.
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