"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.
will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful? will you still love me when all I have is my aching soul? I know you will, I know you will, I know you will. will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful? will you still love me when all I have is my aching soul? I know you will, I know you will, I know you will. will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful? will you still love me when all I have is my aching soul? I know you will, I know you will, I know you will. will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful? will you still love me when all I have is my aching soul? I know you will, I know you will, I know you will.
will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful? will you still love me when all I have is my aching soul? I know you will, I know you will, I know you will. will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful? will you still love me when all I have is my aching soul? I know you will, I know you will, I know you will.
will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful? will you still love me when all I have is my aching soul? I know you will, I know you will, I know you will. will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful? will you still love me when all I have is my aching soul? I know you will, I know you will, I know you will. will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful? will you still love me when all I have is my aching soul? I know you will, I know you will, I know you will.
yseulte & itzal
will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful? ♥
<table align="center" background="http://i42.tinypic.com/e88g1h.png" background-repeat:no-repeat; width:480px; height:480px;"><tbody><tr><td width="150%" valign="bottom" align="center"><div align="justify" style="padding-top: 60px; padding-left:60px; padding-right: 60px; padding-bottom: 60px;"><div style="width: 300px; height: 300px; background-color: #fafafa; padding: 20px; "><center><img src=http://i44.tinypic.com/2zemp9h.png>
<object type='application/x-shockwave-flash' data='http://flash-mp3-player.net/medias/player_mp3_mini.swf' width='100%' height='12'><param name='movie' value='http://flash-mp3-player.net/medias/player_mp3_mini.swf' /><param name='bgcolor' value='#ECD3B0' /><param name='FlashVars' value='mp3=http://www.tunnel.ru/userfiles/ck/files/10/19.The_london_Symphony_Orchestra___Braveheart___For_the_love_of_a_princess.mp3&bgcolor=ECD3B0&loadingcolor=ffffff&buttoncolor=000000&slidercolor=000000'/></object>
<div style="height: 10px"></div><div style="width: 295px; padding-right: 5px; height: 120px; overflow: auto; font-family: georgia; font-size: 9px; line-height: 100%; color: #222; text-align: justify" class="thread1">will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful? will you still love me when all I have is my aching soul? I know you will, I know you will, I know you will. will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful? will you still love me when all I have is my aching soul? I know you will, I know you will, I know you will. will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful? will you still love me when all I have is my aching soul? I know you will, I know you will, I know you will. will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful? will you still love me when all I have is my aching soul? I know you will, I know you will, I know you will.
will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful? will you still love me when all I have is my aching soul? I know you will, I know you will, I know you will. will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful? will you still love me when all I have is my aching soul? I know you will, I know you will, I know you will.
will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful? will you still love me when all I have is my aching soul? I know you will, I know you will, I know you will. will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful? will you still love me when all I have is my aching soul? I know you will, I know you will, I know you will. will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful? will you still love me when all I have is my aching soul? I know you will, I know you will, I know you will.</div><div style="height: 10px"></div><div style="width: 300px; height: 10px; background-color: #ECD3B0"></div>
<div style="width: 300px; font-family: 'dawning of a new day', cursive; font-size: 20px; text-align: center; text-transform: lowercase; letter-spacing: 1px; line-height: 100%; margin-top: -10px; color: #222; text-shadow: 1px 1px 0px #fff">yseulte & itzal</div>
<div style="width: 300px; font-family: calibri, serif; font-size: 7px; text-transform: uppercase; line-height: 100%; text-align: center; letter-spacing: 1px; color: #222">will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful? ♥</div>
</font></font></div></td></tr></tbody></table>
<center><table width=500><tr><td bgcolor=#CEC7DE><div align=center><table width=530><tr><td bgcolor=#CEC7DE><div align=justify> <font style="font-family:times;font-size:12px;color:#432C56;letter-spacing:0px"><center><font style="font-family:century gothic;font-size:11px;color:#876A32;letter-spacing:2px"></font></center><br />
<br />
Yseulte cannot get away from death.
It's as if she carries it within her wherever she goes, a deadly disease laying coiled and still in her veins until it strikes, swiftly and silent as the jaws of a green-throated viper. They always die, the ones she allows herself to love. Her mother was stolen from her first—the mother she never knew, the mother her father had loved more than anything in the world. She'd always wanted one, though, a nice mother to stroke her hair and spin sweet tales with happy endings of fair princes and princesses, and then sing her to sleep at night. Zjarri's never had happy endings, you see. When Yseulte grew older and fairer with every passing day, her father would often look at her strangely, as if seeing her properly for the first time. But when she looked into his eyes, expecting to find warmth and love, only contempt was to be found.
<i>He hated me</i>, she realized sadly, <i>almost as much as he loved me</i>.
Finn was taken from her next; the sweet boy with the laughing brown eyes the color of summer walnuts and hair always tousled with some bizarre accessory of nature: autumn leaves, melting snow, morning dew. Her only childhood friend. When Zjarri took her away from her family of wild warrior women and stole across the scorched sands of the desert to a place full of green and growth and life, in the hottest hour of the day, she and Finn would lie on the moist banks, watching the minnows dart and nibble at their dangling hooves. But death was never far behind; always lingering with pale skin and bright blue eyes and hair that curled with fire, and Finn's death opened her eyes to the world, to her father's cruelty.
Even now, after all these years, she could still feel her father's sweet breath flowering on her skin—so cold it burned. Her father took Finn from her, and so she took life from her father, so that he might know what it was like.
He was not always bad.
But the good did not outweigh the bad.
He hurt people. He hurt many people.
She could not forgive him for that, or herself, for the terrible thing she was about to do.
At the time, she did not know if a demigod could die. She did not know if he was, in fact, a demigod. The son of the Fire Lord and his Firebird, the whispers said. Once, she dared ask him. His terrible silence and clenched jaw was more terrifying than his usual outbursts of anger, and she never asked again. They say the children of the gods bleed golden blood. <i>Did you, Father? Did you bleed gold as you burned?</i> She didn't know a lot of things, back then, but those gods were dead and gone, in a world half the galaxy away where magic thrived in every living being (except yourself, you idiot girl), and whatever blood ran through her father's veins may as well have been gasoline, for all the good it did him.
<i>I loved him, and he burned.
He burned because I loved him.</i>
That is what she tells herself, even to this day. And now, Torasin, the one friend she allowed herself since the days of Finn, was gone. Murdered, ironically enough. How could she despise and curse and loath the murderer, when she was one herself? Perhaps she ought to find him, this mysterious murderer. Instead of murdering him for murdering Torasin, as her father had once murdered her friend, and as Yseulte in turn had murdered her own father, perhaps, just perhaps, she would spare him for murdering her friend. Would that break this terrible cycle she had brought upon herself? Perhaps they could even go murdering together, she and this mysterious friend-murderer. Or maybe they could even be friends, and they wouldn't have to murder anybody.
A strangled laugh escaped her, a pitiful, wounded sound that choked in her throat.
<i>I think I'm going crazy. If I know I'm crazy, does that make me sane? Oh, why did you have to leave so soon, my summer-eyed friend?</i>
She had slipped across the Edge borders early that morning, despite the recent orders from the DragonHeart herself that World Edge citizens were not allowed to leave the borders without an escort. So naturally, Yseulte had gone anyway, without an escort. Nasty murdering murderers on the loose, so Aaron and Lace and all of the other crafters were all being busy little bees, building a massive wall, to keep all of the murderers out. "<font color=#FFEAB8>But who will keep me out?</font>" she asked Itzal, sighing, swallowing her grief, and staring deep into the abyss atop the Heavenly Fields.
Itzal, wise little tiger that he was, was clearly avoiding her in this tragic, windswept state. He crouched in the snow sullenly, staring at her contemptuously with large, unblinking venomous eyes colored an electric shade of violet—the color of the violets her father once thawed with his breath for her in the dead of winter. If he were here, he could thaw all of these dead flowers. They lay scattered around her, frozen in gruesome, twisted forms.
"<font color=#FFEAB8>Did you know</font>," she mused aloud to her small companion, her voice lazy and dark, "<font color=#FFEAB8>that I found you here, little tiger? I'm crippled, now. I thought you would be worth it, though, you'd be the answer to all of my problems—my loneliness, my anger, my guilt. I thought you were the cure, Itzal</font>." She turned back to the edge, watching the snow fall in violent flurries. "<font color=#FFEAB8>I was wrong</font>." Her hind leg ached just thinking of that cold wintry day nearly a year past, and she could still taste the foul stench of fear on her tongue and feel the teeth rendering the flesh from her leg.
"<font color=#FFEAB8>You'd like to push me off this cliff, wouldn't you? Yes, of course, you would like that</font>," she said softly, feeling his cold eyes still fixed on her back. <i>Almost as much as I'd like to boot you off it myself</i>. At once, she was ashamed. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. Itzal was supposed to <i>love</i> her, not despise her. But it didn't matter. She didn't need him. She didn't need Torasin, Lace, her King of Thieves, or World's Edge.
<i>I don't need anybody</i>.
At first, she couldn't discern the sound of feathers from the gentle hush of falling snow. It was Itzal's haughty snarl that caused her to automatically look to the sky. The sight made her breath catch in her throat like a sparrow with frozen wings. Surely it could not be? Why would a god visit her, of all of Helovia's citizens? She was a nobody. A destroyer playing at being a crafter, perhaps, an outcast pretending to share a home with family, a murderer masquerading as a damsel in distress, but aside from that? Her life was not particularly a picture of greatness. All she had for company was a silly little tiger and her useless beauty.
But Father Earth had been kind despite knowing the blackness of her heart and the dark deeds that tainted it such a color—he had listened patiently, and a small smile had bloomed on his lips like a rose. He even granted her selfish mortal desires. And for naught, it seemed. But she would thank him anyway for courtesy's sake, she decided absentmindedly as the powerful figure landed amid the skeletons of dead flowers, even though the God would surely know the bitterness in her heart.
But it wasn't the Earth Lord come to visit a mere murdering mortal and her pathetic kitten of a tiger.
It was a boy.
Half-way between boy and man, he possessed all the strength and power of someone much older than himself, and yet, something about the winged boy still lingered in the wild-eyed innocence of childhood. Vulnerability, she decided. She remembered those days quite vividly—torn between following your own heart and following the wishes of those you love best.
"<font color=#FFEAB8>I thought I knew you</font>," she said bluntly, unable to decide if she was relieved or disappointed. "<font color=#FFEAB8>I'm having a pity party, you see. Would a strapping young lad such as yourself care to humor a crazy old lady and her kitten?</font>" She smiled to herself as Itzal growled from beneath a ledge he sheltered under; his eyes two luminous bulbs of malevolent lavender. She then peered closely at the winged boy's expression, unable to discern the emotions lingering in the gentle hollows of his young face, but ultimately decided he must be having a tragic day as well. "<font color=#FFEAB8>Gods, you look like him</font>," she murmured, more to herself than to the boy. She'd heard tales of the gods laying with mortals—after all, it's a story she once believed about her own father. She laughed bitterly to herself.
Gods, demigods, and murderers.
A circle that never ended, it seemed.
</div></td></tr></table><font style="font-size:10px;font-family:times;color:B5B3A7<br />
;letter-spacing:3px"><i><font color=#FFEAB8>yseulte & itzal,</i></font><img src=http://i50.tinypic.com/24mer86.png></div></td></tr></table>
ALL THE WAYS I GOT TO KNOW
YOUR PRETTY FACE AND ELECTRIC SOUL.
.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
![[Image: ysueltetable.png]](http://img196.imageshack.us/img196/7876/ysueltetable.png)
![[Image: n6diqv.png]](http://i48.tinypic.com/n6diqv.png)
