"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.
04-13-2017, 01:25 PM (This post was last modified: 04-13-2017, 01:28 PM by Random Event.)
Random Event
The Isles are a strange place; excluded from the main land, thieved from a foreign land, the jungle riddled islands rise up over reefs, and are filled with secret trails, caverns, and undersea splendors. So numerous are its trails and nooks that, unless one paid careful attention to where they were going and how they placed their hooves, it was easy to become hurt, or lost.
Because of this, however, it was also a good place for things to be intentionally lost, also.
So it was for the Spirit Jar. Not necessarily a creation of Good, or of Wickedness, either, it simply was. What it was, though, was sentient, and powerful, no matter how much like a regular, porcelain vase it might seem, at first glance. Turned on its side, half embedded in the shore and occasionally swallowed up by the ebb and flow of the tide itself, the Spirit Jar was simply biding its time.
For what, though, you might ask; did it seek revenge, or victims? Was its purpose virtuous, or involve the offering of gifts? What would one find, if they were to remove the smooth, white top of the container, and to peer inside the walls of the painted Jar?
Tiamat is soon to find out.
With a clink, the long settled vessel opens – knocked astray by a hoof or a stone, or at long last tousled loose by the ripple of the waves over its face – and with a capricious, peculiar sigh, the high pitched Spirit Jar releases its voice, and a wispy, eager sound of hopeful relief.
"Hello!" it calls out, sounding as if a thousand people call out of its mouth all at once with sing-song voices, in one thousand tongues, but somehow, it is easy to decipher what the Spirit Jar says, "hello! Please, lift me from the sand. I have been here for ever so long."
[ This is a Random Event for Tiamat and those she invites only. ]
Tiamat does not know how much time has passed since she had last come to the Riptide Isles—surely not too long after the Earthen God had brought it into their world. Bypassing the natural bridge that connects the island to the mainland, the sea mare and her companion had opted to travel along the ocean’s floor, ambling slowly against the current, and marveling at the beauty of the reefs and wildlife. Now, having recently resurfaced upon the shoreline, she meanders along the coast.
She has a difficult time controlling her thoughts. This place, while undoubtedly beautiful, harbors dark memories—black memoirs of battle and bloodshed, and of a terrible monster who continues to haunt Helovia with his cruelty. Tiamat does not have it in her glass heart to fault the Helovian Gods, but she can’t help but wonder, if this all could have been avoided?
Slowly releasing her breath, the blue Lady hardly recognizes when her hoof knocks gently against a half-buried jar, or the subsequent, musical clink of its lid sliding open. She is lost in her thoughts, warring between worry and ease.
That is, until a very distinct ‘hello!’ sighs over the ocean waves, reaching for the mare’s attention and effectively grasping her focus. Tiamat lifts her head as her ears rise curiously, tilting and swiveling while her eyes follow, roaming over the pristine (and quite obviously, empty) beauty of the Isle’s shoreline. There is apparently no one else with the Lady and her whale, which causes her sapphire brow to pucker in confusion.
Casting a quizzical glance to her companion, the blue maiden shifts her weight, and calls out in the direction she thought the voice had come from. “Hello? Is someone there?” Her eyes wander over her shoulder, until she catches a glimpse of something shiny and solid embedded within the wet sands. Turning back from where they had come, Tiamat retraces her hoof prints, which inevitably lead her towards a stunning and strange jar. “It couldn’t have been…” the sea mare murmurs between herself and Nimue, almost breathless.
Lowering her head, Tiamat inspects the vase more closely, her warm breath tickling the glassy surface as she hesitates to touch it. “Was it—was it you who called out to me?” She questions the glossy object shyly, trying not to feel foolish.
notes; Aaaaahhh my goodness I'm so excited eee!!! :DD “Speech.”
04-20-2017, 08:14 AM (This post was last modified: 04-20-2017, 08:15 AM by Random Event.)
Random Event
The Spirit Jar was endlessly used to mortals assuming that it was taller, and also alive, and begins to chuckle at Tiamat the longer that she looks for it on the horizon. Perhaps that is why she finds it at last, and with a sigh of relief, the Jar awaits her aid.
It does not come.
Instead, her warm breath kisses its face, blurs out the myriad animal figures traipsing through the tangled jungle which becomes old growth wood, which becomes new forest and rolling meadows, branching out to hills, rivers, lakes, and the sea. The whole jar is painted with these splendorous scenes of the wilds, and the beasts and men within, nearly every sort of land one can imagine somehow forever painted onto its glossy porcelain sides with a loving hand.
"Of course it was me!" proclaims the many-thousand voices of the Jar, some condemning for her balking disbelief, while others are warm, or accepting, many even gracious for her company, and potential help; all together, however, its not so threatening, this too big for one Jar sonorous speech, even if it is quite weird, "have you seen anyone else buried in the sand about here?"
To be fair, neither could the Jar. It had no eyes. It wasn’t even technically a “someone,” at least not in so far as a talking vase could be, that being why the Spirit Jar was so forced to wait for someone else to come along and help it do more than wait.
"You’d be lucky to find anyone but me," it continues, "I have been here for so very, very long, and no one has ever passed me by… except you."
[ Please tag the Mythical Request account instead of the Random Event! ]
The mare’s white eyes watch the half-buried jar with growing wonder, tracing the innumerable patterns that dance across its smooth surface, colorful and bright, ebbing and flowing—and so obviously full of life. She has never seen anything like this before! Nimue shares her astonishment, as the little whale lowers her nose to inspect the peculiar vase; the curiosity that courses through their bond helps override any of the hesitation that the Leviathan might have, and together they bask in this wonderful object.
“Of course it was me!”
The myriad of voices speak again, somehow booming and grand without being intimidating. Even so, the ocean pair finds themselves startled, and both of them jump backwards at the jar’s sudden exclamation. Nimue retreats to settle in the comfort beneath her bondmate’s stomach, peering at the object from between Tiamat’s front legs. More inquisitive than anything, the blue mare tilts her head, doe-eyes wide and her lips parting in a silent ‘o’ of amazement.
The colorful, incredible jar continues to speak, its tone seemingly far too large and splendid to fit inside the little glass container. “No—no I haven’t, fortunately,” the ocean Lady manages to respond to its question, her sapphire lips quirking into a crooked smile while awkward laughter laces her words. Stepping forward, she lowers her head again, her dainty ears slanting intently forward when the voice(s) continues, explaining its desolate plight. “That sounds terribly lonely,” Tiamat croons softly, hardly able to fathom what life would be like to be trapped and isolated for so long—how terrible it would be!
“I’d be happy to help you—here, let me see if I can get you loose,” pressing her velvet muzzle against the smooth glass, she begins to—as gently as she can, for fear of cracking the jar—push against it, trying to break up the packed sand that surrounds it. Once the ground is loose enough, Tiamat uses the very tip of a cloven hoof to get as far under the vase as she can, and then works it upward. Before long, she is able to reach down and place her teeth gently around the jar’s lid, lift it, and set it down right-side-up on the beach.
Wanting to help somehow, Nimue softly brushes off the sand from where it had been buried. “There you go!” Tiamat smiles, pleased with their work, and hopes that the jar approves as well. “If you don’t mind me asking,” she lowers her head to its level, peering curiously at its vibrant, shifting surface, “What are you? Other than a jar, I mean. Were you here when these islands were in the Rift?” Her ears splay to the side, a little embarrassed and afraid of offending the jar for asking.
The jar was glad that the one who had found it was so good natured; she listened to it with both ears lifted (though the vase could not truly see, as things with eyes did, it still knew she was focused upon it), and even empathized with its predicament. This was something that had never once happened to the Spirit Jar in all its countless years of existence. Those who fetched it from wherever the water, wind, or various beings which carried it last had laid it to rest were most often too preoccupied with what they could get from such an obviously magical thing. They never bothered to consider what such an existence must be like at all.
"It truly is," solemnly says the many voiced thing, in response, as Tiamat begins to do as it has asked.
Retrieving it from the sand most gently, and brushing away the granules of sand which covered its painted surface, the blue mare and her whale are regarded most warmly by the entity which she frees. With a musical clink it formulates an answer to her question; one which the jar has been asked too many times to remember precisely how many that was.
"I am the Spirit Jar, a holder of souls and magical energies…but I do not know where I am from," it answers, some wariness to be heard among the many voices lilting through the salty air. So many had fled after hearing of its true nature, to leave it alone, at the whim of the earth again, before ever being told the rest of its true purpose. "do not worry, though. They all want to be with me, and it was their choice. Don’t they seem happy to you?"
As it asks, the figures painted along its sides begin to move in place, as if running, turning their heads to watch the birds flap their wings overhead, or glancing over their shoulders at the rustle of other things in the gently swaying forest behind them. They all seem at peace, as the vase promises, but it certainly does not answer why they are there.