"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.
08-31-2013, 08:47 AM (This post was last modified: 09-01-2013, 07:47 AM by Midas.)
Worrying times. We won the battle, held off the unicorn spawn. Our brothers in the Edge also saw success, dragon warriors came home with tired, wounded smiles. There would be a moment of silence, a moment of healing on both sides. Still…I knew it couldn’t last for long. Dragon’s Throat was without Sultana’s, Kri and Sumati hadn’t made an appearance yet. Hector had vanished right before battle. All of my most trusted warriors and mentors, save for Guacho. Were gone. Onni returned from the Edge to fight for our home.
I found myself turning to her for guidance in absence of a second General. She knew war and healing, a boon to our family. Not to mention the steel nerve inherited from Kri. Through her words and various others I gathered that Kri had been kidnapped by Basin folk, all attempts to retrieve her had thus far failed. A troubled heart was further set to beat by the new notion that Foothills had been involved in the recent invasion on our allies.
It was tempting to storm into their winter home with a hoard of fighters, steal our leader away and destroy the Basin with one fell swoop. Wisdom gave youthful desire reason for pause; it was better to bind time. Wait and see, at least for a little. I stared into the darkness, Cera and the others were safe. Fina was safe. One would think that alone was a reason for celebration—but my heart didn’t feel gladness. Only dread, as if this was the quiet before a storm. In silence. I watched the moon. Alone and with my own countenance for as far as I knew.
It's not hard to live like a ghost.
I just haunt all that I wanted, and leave what I don't.</style>
Midas would have to wait, for Gaucho was not immediately available - although he was close.
Gaucho had waited, and waited. Impatiently he had stood on the borders, waiting and screaming for the yewwneekorns to come for him - to leave others like ommnnnmneee, and instead attack him. He would have taken the whole lot on, if it could have saved others the wounds they surely received.
But they had not come. No one had. Gaucho had been too late.
He had failed them. Each battered body full of battle wounds, was one more that he would have to atone for. A debt that he owed. Would they be able to forgive him? No - not forgive. Trust him? Had he not sworn a oath to the Throat to protect? Did he not spend his days monitoring their borders, and training in his spare time? And all for what? To show up late, and let his brothers and sisters fight in his place.
And so, Gaucho had departed. Immediately following the Invasion, Gaucho's mighty black wings had hurtled him away from the Throat, to give himself time to reflect (which is no short process, as I'm sure you know). It had done his soul little good however, and as the bay came sailing from the skies towards My-das, his features showed the despair that he felt in his heart.
Landing heavily, and with little grace, the warrior's hooves upturned much of the soft and newly sprouted grasses mercilessly. The dark circles around his eyes were made darker by the tears that had fallen, and his head hung low with the emotional weight of his thoughts. His stormy gaze would not raise to meet My-das' as he walked closer - his comparatively massive frame appearing as though a strong breeze would be enough to knock him over. In his antlers, Mara's dark eyes were round with worry and confusion, for the unease in her bonded's mind was something she had never sensed from him before. She hissed weakly to Fina and Midas, but remained curled about Gaucho's antlers.
Halting a few paces from the painted stallion, Gaucho heaved a great sigh, as if he had been holding his breath the entire time. Spit and tears mixed and dripped from his dark muzzle, as his head hung down by his knees. "Gaucho fail...Gaucho.....Gaucho..." He repeated his name, as if stuck on a loop - as if his mind couldn't process what was to come next. Finally, after a few shallow breaths, his shoulders drooped even lower. ...Gaucho fail." He admitted finally; softly.
Though I did not know it at the time, I, too, had arrived late to the battle, just as Gaucho had. The knowledge would come to me, in time, and it would be a surprise to me, for his nature does not permit such tardiness in the face of an impending threat. However I, unlike him, would not view it as a failure; he had duties other than patrolling our borders, duties that he had, in fact, shirked in the past in favor of more - ahem - pleasurable activities. So the fact that he just so happened to be elsewhere on the day of the invasion, doing his job (and not, hopefully, those other activities I mentioned), was of no countenance to me. More important to me, as I returned that day from searching for metals with Zenobia, was where her father was, and if he was alright.
I returned Zenobia to the heart of the Throat, and then turned to leap into the air. She would be safe enough there, where they whispered of victory in hushed, hopeful voices, but I wanted - no, needed to be of use. And so I flew, hovering over the sands that ran red with blood - ours or our enemies? - and searched for anyone to whom I could be of service. There were very few, it seemed, that needed any assistance at all, and so I left them, wheeling in the sky and scanning the area for the dark form of my mate. I snorted to myself then, for thinking of him as such, when he clearly had no emotional ties to me beyond as property... but as I knew that going in, it was difficult to hold it against him. Perhaps a small part of me wished for more, but I had given up on my naive, youthful ideas of love, settling instead for protection and lust. Oh, how far I have fallen. I saw him, finally, or the distant shape that I thought was him, as he leaped into the sky, his movements jerky and hastened. I followed him, hoping to check to be sure he was alright.
So, here I am, following the father of my child, who is decidedly not my mate (at least, not in my rather romanticized view of the word) from a distance as he streaks away from the battleground that is our home with a quickness. Is this intelligent? Perhaps not. Perhaps he wants to be alone, perhaps he has found an escaping invader, perhaps this, perhaps that... and still I follow, my wings beating a steady rhythm through the dark skies. I surely stand out against the blackness of the clouds, but he blends in, and I find it difficult to keep up. Still, I think I see him streak to the ground, and so I follow, twisting my body into a sharp, banking dive, flaring my wings at just the right moment so that I set daintily down on the ground, a far cry from Gaucho's rather clumsy landing.
I am not quick enough to hear his admission of failure; if I had heard, I would have been the first to correct him, as well as I could. What I do know is that there are lines of a substance that looks suspiciously like tears running down his face as he stands, looking ashamed, before Midas. Immediately, I feel as though I am interrupting, but there is no going back now, for I have already landed. My auds flicker back and forth, marking my unease, but I take a few steps forward nonetheless, reaching out my muzzle to brush along Gaucho's flank as I come to stand beside him, peering intently at his face.
"Hello," I say softly, and my orbs dart to Midas to include him in the greeting. "I don't mean to intrude, I only... I wanted to be sure you were alright..." Will he understand? Midas will - but Gaucho is the one whose affections I seek despite the knowledge that I will never receive them.
"Talk talk talk."
@[name]
Sohalia Don't wanna leave this life knowing I barely tried...
Please tag Sohalia in all replies.
Use of force and/or magic (with the exception of death) is allowed at all times.
Want to place an order? Visit Crystalline Creations here!
Want to plot with Sohalia? Visit her plot page here!
The flutter of wings and a rush of air. A Pegasus would know their own pattern traced in heaven from the moment primary feathers sprouted; but I had flown with this mighty steed enough to know who flew toward me. I knew the symphony of each heavy thump like my own heartbeat. Guacho. A favored desert son—and one of the few warriors that had remained loyal during all this shit. By moonlight I watched him land in an unusually rough manner, my smile of welcome fell short into the realm of caution as he huddled forward. Limbs lumbered weakly and with little direction. I closed the distance between us, my own hooves striking earth briskly in stark contrast to his large shuffles. Extending neck and thus muzzle I moved to scent him, searching in the dim illume for wounds that explain his…worrisome stature.
His companion watches me with those reptilian eyes, I spared a questioning glance in her direction when my nose turns up empty easy success. Fina moves along my spine into wakefulness, that orange neck slithers up and beak widens into a yawn. “Gaucho,” my friend said repeatedly, “Fail.” I met those proud eyes with a surprised stare, mouth opens and a single word is all that is allowed to come forth, “Nay,” I began, but the sentence is cut short. Behind Guacho someone had taken notice of our presence, a small alabaster female. Memory recognized her from gatherings, said inquire slides in for a more graceful landing than the taller warrior had managed.
I glance around his dun colored bulk and meet the woman with a small smile. Though she holds my gaze for a moment, I can feel that her attention itching to be placed upon our heartsick friend. “Good eve Sister,” I voiced, a simple response to a soft greeting. As far as intruding, or being alright? It wasn’t my place to answer either. I’m not really the one she was asking for pardons. Muzzle shifts back to his downcast state, “Why do you say fail?” I inquire gently.
It's not hard to live like a ghost.
I just haunt all that I wanted, and leave what I don't.</style>
Had Mara not the keen sense of awareness of her surroundings that she did, and the willingness to aid Gaucho, the brute likely wouldn't have been aware of Sohalia's landing. With his head lowered to his knees, and snot running from his nose, he was paying attention to little else, other than the thick and ugly way the word fail felt, falling from his lips. With a light hiss, Mara wriggled in his antlers, as if trying to pull his large blocky head up. As this proved futile, she simply sent him images of the winged mare as she landed behind him, which was sufficient in getting his attention.
With a grunt, his head shot into the air, his uncharacteristically long forelock firming falling between his eyes. Turning towards the sound of her voice, snot and tears mixing in an ugly concoction coating the bone through his nose, Gaucho's flanks heaved a sigh, as a blank stare overcame his features. It was almost as if his mind couldn't decide if it should feel embarrassed for having Sohalia see him so, or defensive. Instead, he simply remained vacant - being sad was for too large of an emotion for the beast, to let others crowd it.
"All...wrong" Gaucho replied to Soh's inquiry, his head sinking once again as his shoulders slumped. "Gaucho fail b'cause...b'cause..." His brows knit together as he ventured a hesitant glance towards Soh and Midas, unable to articulate his thoughts. "Onni fight...Levi fight..And-row-mee-dah fight. Gaucho only wait. No yewneekorns. Others got hurt. Not Gaucho." They all fought. They were injured. Frowning, his lip began to tremble as if more tears were about to flow. A racking breath shuddered through his body as he fought to withhold this foreign emotion, of failure. "Gaucho should be hurt." - this last statement was not clarified as to whether the poor creature meant that he should have been hurt in their place, or if he thought he deserved punishment.
In his lowered antlers, Mara wavered somewhat, before lowering herself into the grasses and moving towards Sohalia. She couldn't sense the emotions of the white one, as she could the big one, but she could see the concern lining her petite features. She hissed slowly and sadly, looking back at Gaucho, who seemed to be waiting for either confirmation of his failure, or punishment from Midas.
As soon as I land, I immediately feel as though I have interrupted, but now it would be rude to leave. Midas’ greeting is met with a nod of the head (later, I will feel bad for paying him so little attention – as our General, he is rather entitled to more respect). Gaucho is so very distraught, and it scares me, for I have never seen him seem so lost. He is always strong, and able, and ready to go. He does not cry, he does not fail, he does not waver. I am bemused.
He launches into a rather lengthy (for him) explanation of his condition, and I want so badly to console him, both because I care for him and because at this moment, he is almost like a very large, very upset child. I want to make him happier, not because he is the father of my daughter, but because that is what one should do in these circumstances. I want to make him smile because that is what I would do for anyone. In this way, I find myself even more confused, for I find that I have conflicting emotions about this steed regardless of the role he has played in my life.
I remain silent, for I do not know how to properly answer him, and I sense that it is Midas’ attention that he seeks rather than mine. His declaration that he should be hurt makes my auds flicker backwards in distaste, for I would not wish harm upon anyone, particularly not myself, so I don’t understand his distress. Perhaps it is just one of those primal urges that he has – perhaps he feels that if others are hurt, he must be as well. Conformity and all that? I don’t know.
The snake disentangles herself from the stallion’s antlers and winds her way along the ground toward me. She scared me, once, but I have come to be quite fond of her. I wonder why both of my mates thus far in life have had companions, and yet I remain forever alone, but it is an errant thought that is quickly put back into place. She hisses, and I lower my head to greet her. I still don’t know her name, so I just blow softly in her general direction, a friend’s greeting. I wait for Midas to make the stag feel better, for I surely don’t know how.
"Talk talk talk."
@[name]
Sohalia Don't wanna leave this life knowing I barely tried...
Please tag Sohalia in all replies.
Use of force and/or magic (with the exception of death) is allowed at all times.
Want to place an order? Visit Crystalline Creations here!
Want to plot with Sohalia? Visit her plot page here!
I had never seen Guacho this crestfallen, so on the verge of hopelessness. Astounded, but trying to remain leveled enough for conversation sake I listened as he mumbled, “All….wrong” to the now quiet mistress. Then the warrior slowly rose those broken eyes to mine and said, “Guacho fail b’cause… b’cause….” Fina pressed forward along my spine, curiously anticipated; her feathers brushed my nap as she stared at the beast that so rarely uttered anything of aside from “Nay or Yar.” Subconsciously I braced for him to say something earth shattering, a thousand and one questions raced through my mind in a single instant. Was Kri dead? Did Majua return and settle his score? “Onni fight….Levi fight….” It should be mentioned that by now understanding his broken language came easy—“Others go hurt. Not Guacho.”
He was…guilty for not finding an opponent? My frown deepened from inner consideration, a true battle heart this one was. Like my father. “Gaucho should be hurt.” His serpent left the safety of antlers, drawing Fina’s attention by the movement. Her eyes lingered for a moment on something that might be considered dinner had it not bonded to a soul of large proportion. “Ah brother… the unicorns came like a babe without permission to leave its mothers tit.” There had been so few oppressors, or sheer numbers overwhelmed their attacks. “Your steady courage fires our brothers to strong purpose. You will get another chance at Unicorn blood.” Retaliation would come, it was only a matter of when.
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