"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.
A M P E R E
"Any existence deprived of freedom is a kind of death" -- Michel Aoun
Ampere's wayward wandering brought her to a segment of the caves she hadn't yet explored. Water echoed from within and she wondered if there would be another fall. She paused just a moment, her wings hugging against her sides in a mixture of comfort and a reminder that she hadn't flown in weeks. Like most things since she first began hiding in these rocky hollows, Ampere's happiness extended only so far before it was crushed by an oppressive grief. They had all lost so much...
It doesn't matter if you win, as long as you stand up to fight.
Ampere pushed forward, unwilling to succumb to the woes that plagued this existence. She was determined to understand what was causing all of this, and why. The W.A.R. group was supposed to come up with answers, but she hadn't heard of or seen another meeting with them since that first day, so she was taking matters into her own hooves, even if it would only accomplish a relief of boredom. Busy hooves are happy hooves...
Her hooves clicked along the stone floor, though the sound was not so noticeable with the countless steps of others shuffling about and the trickle of the pool Ampere noticed. She wasn't interested in the fountain however and moved forward, attracted instead by the flickering, dancing lights of the runes etched into the walls. They gave off a faint glow, its colors reminiscent of the mushrooms that grew around here and those bizarre trees that arose during the endless night.
She reached out with her muzzle, attempting to trace the shape she saw. Its meaning was more or less lost to her, but she felt as if it carried a weight of importance. "Hmmm, what is this place?"
02-15-2014, 01:20 PM (This post was last modified: 02-15-2014, 01:20 PM by Quilyan.)
But when his heart was lifted up, and his mind hardened in pride...
Quilyan
...he was deposed from his kingly throne, and they took his glory from him.
In a way, the caves are a blessing for the painted steed. Aboveground, he had spent so much time worrying about Resplendence that he had never stretched his own wings, made his own acquaintances, led his own life. That is not to say that he resents her - quite the opposite, in fact - but he does realize now that her protection cannot be his undoing. She is a fae of many means, with many friends who would give their lives for her. The only thing he is doing by insisting on remaining by her side is hurt himself. What about his ambitions, his dreams and desires? What about his need to be needed, how he longs to be useful, as she is and as Kaj is and as Kahlua is? What about proving himself to the family that had taken he and his princess in? No, the time for worrying and hovering is past. He must move forward with Resplendence rather than plod along behind, watching from her shadows for a threat that never comes.
But in a way, the caves are also a curse. The deposed prince is a pegasus. He belongs in the sky, not trapped below the surface of the world, hidden away from the clouds. He longs for the wind in his mane, the warmth of the sun caressing his back, sliding over his wings. He dreams of diving through the sky, falling to earth like a broken angel, flaring his wings to save himself, out of breath and exhilarated from the rush of adrenaline. There is nothing like that down here, and he is beginning to loathe the dark, craggy caves of their sanctuary. There is nothing to save him from the tedious, humdrum, day-to-day activities of the hidden world, no escape from his wayward thoughts. The frustration is building within him, and so he takes to roaming the caves.
The Wall of History, as they have apparently come to call it, draws him in. Something about the etchings are familiar; they remind him of Th'orqui, and the ruins he left behind. Despite the pain that the memories bring, he finds that he returns again and again, sharpening the blade of anguish and driving it deeper into his heart. How many times must he reply his past before the stake hits home, twists his life free of his chest, leaves him broken and bleeding? But there is something there that he cannot avoid, something that draws him home. The drawings on the wall - they are rich with history, a story he cannot yet understand, and somehow he finds solace in deciphering the ancient words.
"They are beautiful, are they not?" he says to the blue-tipped fae as he approaches, watching her muzzle skim a rune. Perhaps he has found a kindred spirit. Perhaps the Wall interests her, too.
[W/C | ---]
Walk walk walk. Talk talk talk. Think think think.
A M P E R E
"Any existence deprived of freedom is a kind of death" -- Michel Aoun
An unexpected voice causes a ripple to roll through Ampere's body as she visibly jumps. A few quick steps let her shy to the side, her head jerking around to face the 'threat', while her feathers all ruffled to a larger size. She settles just as quick as she startles, an abrupt laugh loosing from between her lips to ease the tension from the humid air. "You'd think I have a guilty conscious reacting like that..."she mumbles, her humor subsiding back in her chest like a sleeping giant beneath a bridge. She shakes her neck, as though to rid herself from the remaining remnants of fear, her heart still wild in her chest, though when is it not?
"I'm sorry, I suppose I was concentrating too hard...foolish" she murmured again, her eyes still coasting along the figures that danced with light. She was abashed she let herself grow so absorbed so quickly and even wondered if this place weren't magically hypnotic. Stuck underground with so many strangers and enemies alike she could not afford to be so complacent. It was a wonder no one had murdered each other yet - even the sane would go mad here and there were plenty who had already sunken into that see long ago roaming these halls. Am I one of them?
She blinked away her thoughts, attention shifting now towards the stallion who seemed delightfully sane. "They are," she responds at long last to his question, though one she knew that didn't demand an answer, it seemed a good way to start the conversation off on a good foot once more. "I've never seen anything like them before, even in my travels... but magic seems endless in its mysteries," her voice trailed off, realizing she was being naive. She liked to speak as if she had wandered the world, but with her age what did she really know? She hadn't even mastered the art of kicking Oxy's ass yet, how could she hope to know magic or the meaning of the dark apocalypse unfolding outside? She sighed heavily, sinking back into a feeling of defeat - the waves crashed heavily upon the shore of her resolve.
"Do you understand them?" she asked after a moment of silence, a bit of hope coloring her voice as her gaze roamed the spotted stag.
02-17-2014, 10:15 PM (This post was last modified: 02-17-2014, 10:16 PM by Quilyan.)
But when his heart was lifted up, and his mind hardened in pride...
Quilyan
...he was deposed from his kingly throne, and they took his glory from him.
Only years of training as a king-to-be stops the steed from laughing as he realizes that he has caught the mare unawares. She skitters sideways, prancing to face him as her feathers ruffle aggressively. He cocks his head at her, raising and eyebrow, taking a step back to assure her that he means no harm. A kind smile graces his features, but a wicked glint gleams in his eyes as he swallows his amusement. "Perhaps we are all guilty, at heart," he agrees with her, stepping closer again as she seems to calm. "I know I am." This last addition is accompanied by a conspiratorial wink before he turns his attention to the runes. He has spent a great deal of time studying them, as they remind him of home; he came from a more advanced land than this, and he thinks that he recognizes some symbols on this wall. Or, at least, he can deduce the meanings based on placement and images nearby.
She agrees with his original statement before seeming to trail off into her own thoughts once more. He could not say if she had traveled far and wide enough to have seen the likes of the pictographs; after all, he in his mere eight years had traversed more terrain than he had ever thought possible. But she seems hopeful as she asks him if he understands them, and he appraises their little section of the wall thoughtfully. "They aren't magical," he tells her as way of correction, though he manages to do so without sounding condescending. "Well, the glowing, that may be. But the markings themselves are simply a written form of language. Where I come from, we used markings similar to this to keep inventory of the kingdom's goods, or pass messages to one another..." He trails off, remembering. Those had been easier days; he had always known what was expected of him, what his life would hold. Helovia is more interesting in that regard - it keeps him guessing - but he feels that Th'orqui would have been the easier residence, had he a choice in the matter.
"From what I can tell, this is the history of Helovia," he tells her after a moment's silence. "I would guess at this particular section being a creation myth. The drawings, of course, are instrumental in deciphering the runes. Many times, pictographs are hierarchical - you see, the large drawings at the top are representative of the gods." Sure enough, there are etchings as large as his head depicting each of their four gods. He studies them for a moment, then glances down. Right below his eye level there are three images: an equine, a unicorn, and a pegasus. They are smaller than the gods. "While these smaller ones show the races born of them. One can assume that the markings by the gods are meant to represent their names; the same goes for the species below. The hard part is the actual myth. It's all written. Deciphering precisely what each one means... well, that would take more time, comparisons with more samples, things like that." He shakes his head, glances at the blue-tinged mare, wondering if she finds it as fascinating as he does.
[W/C | ---]
Walk walk walk. Talk talk talk. Think think think.
A M P E R E
"Any existence deprived of freedom is a kind of death" -- Michel Aoun
Is he flirting with me? Ampere wondered, the thought tangled among the other dozens of scattered ones drifting through her mind in this moment, in this place. His wink had caught her eye and it brought new meaning to his words that she'd been too originally flustered to take in fully. Guilty hm? she wondered with a slight smile playing at the corners of her lips.
Their topic had diverged back towards the runes however, which Ampere was equally as curious about. He certainly seemed knowledgeable on them, correcting her original thoughts almost immediately. Her gaze flicked from the wall back towards him, studying his face - so serious as he read - and his honesty. Having just met him Ampere was shy to trust his words, particularly because she felt that the runes were magical; maybe she just wanted them to be. Magic was a nice catch all for explaining things, but even such a force had laws to govern it, as all forces did, she just didn't understand what all of them were.
She hoped that meant the wraiths had rules to govern them too.
Quilyan continues speaking, a crumb of his history revealed - just a taste. Ampere wants to ask more of his travels, wondering if they'd been to similar places, but she has the mind to stay quiet as he continues, looking harder at a particular section of the wall where they stand. It still captivates her the most, her eyes inevitably drawn back to it by the pulse-like glow of the writing, the driving need to understand if it plays any importance in getting her out of these caves and setting the top world straight again.
The stallion beside her gestures towards a certain story, or so it would seem. As he speaks she begins to see the meaning in the lines, a picture starting to form as he suggests the purpose of the strokes, their orientation and size. Ampere nods, a thoughtful tune humming from her throat as she studies alongside him. Quilyan starts to trail off however, his head shaking, the shadows the motion casts drawing her attention towards him. Reluctantly Ampere's gaze shifts from the wall back towards him, their gaze snagging on each other in the same moment. He has a quiet type of intensity to him that reminds her of Mesec.
Ampere's muzzle extends, aiming to lightly brush Quilyan on the neck or shoulder. "We've got time," she says softly, encouraging him. She wants to know, but she cannot do it alone. Ampere moves past him, her tail flicking, perhaps brushing across his legs, though her attention is back on the wall, her gaze probing for something similar - the gods images perhaps. As she moves she mumbles, mostly to herself, though it is audible. "More time than we may want with the way the world is turning," her tone has risen, the heat of her hatred of these caves blossoming on her tongue. She pauses them, quiet for a moment as her eyes search. "If this is the history, as you say..." she continues, blue eyes skipping back towards him. "Then perhaps there will be something about what's happening now? Maybe it's happened before, or maybe there's a warning!" Her excitement and hope bubble up once more, a smile drifting onto her features as she watches him, expectant.
But when his heart was lifted up, and his mind hardened in pride...
Quilyan
...he was deposed from his kingly throne, and they took his glory from him.
The blue is easier to flirt with than the lovely, tattooed mare Cealestis that he met not so long ago; she had played his game, but only just, and he had given up on wooing her in part due to his companion's indignant objections, and in part due to his interest in the writings they had discovered together. It would seem that he has a talent for finding the pretty faes interested in the hieroglyphs; it is a pity, in a way, that his heart belongs to another. The key gleams gold against his chest, a reminder of the mate that wanders the caverns elsewhere. It is cold, and it brings him relief even as it tickles the tender skin there, for he knows that as long as it chills him, she comes to no harm.
She hums, and it is a calming, quiet sound that seems to fit in their surroundings; their eyes lock, and he has to still his wandering mind before his thoughts travel too far down that path. He clears his throat and smiles, comfortable with her closeness, even as she reaches to brush his shoulder in what he is sure is meant to be a reassuring manner. She moves forward, and her tail brushes against his legs. She is alluring, in her own way, and he cannot help but admire the curves that she unknowingly shows off as she steps ahead of him. Again, he forces the thought aside, moving up to stay with her - and then there is excitement in the air as she turns startling, blue eyes on him. He considers her words, his gaze skimming across the murals, his misplaced lust forgotten for the time being.
"Perhaps..." he muses aloud, thoughtful. He paces down the line of the wall, each step with a pause between as he searches the images and runes etched there. There are more runes than images, or so it would seem, and he is left with a frown on his maw. Finally, a longer pause ensues, in which he traces the lines of a particularly complex set of runes. "Perhaps-" he repeats, but this time there is something else in his tone; he turns and walks to the fountain in the center of the room, the edges of which are engraved with the same runes as that section of wall. "The God of the Earth appeared in this room and told those present of a cure for the wraiths," he says, speaking quickly, assuming she would have heard the gossip. "The wall there," he continues, gesturing to the panel in question, "matches the ruins here," with another bob of the head toward the fountain, "which leads me to believe that these runes are directions regarding the fountain's powers, in turn leading me to believe that the section of wall with these markings may have something to do with the epidemic." He looks to her, finally, a question in his eyes, as though waiting for an affirmation of the theory. If correct, it is a huge breakthrough in understanding the runes. If not, he will simply look the fool.
[W/C | ---]
Walk walk walk. Talk talk talk. Think think think.
A M P E R E
"Any existence deprived of freedom is a kind of death" -- Michel Aoun
He is kind with her hope, gently placing it upon his shoulders as they wander along the pathways of this ancient place, each enjoying the company of the other even if their reasons vary. It is a nicety not often afforded in life, particularly with the distance in their ages. Rather than lord his wisdom over Ampere he chooses to treat her as an equal, sharing her wonder, her curiosity, her confusion in this underground world. She may not fully realize it yet, but she owes him her gratitude if only for his gentle handling.
Quilyan begins to descend into the runes, leaving Ampere to watch in a sort of awe as he works, his thoughts tumbling freely off his tongue, the tone so low Ampere hastens after him to listen and learn. She nearly bumps into him at one point, their skin so close she can feel the electricity humming between them. He speaks of a god descending, an event she hadn't heard of and at once her ears perk. Her lips purse with another question, but she slaps them shut as he continues to talk, his speed increasing as he seems to be on to something. Their hooves click and clack over the stone, their manes whispering in the dark. Its an intimate ordeal.
Ampere stands near him, trying to follow his gaze as he turns it from fountain to wall and back again. She steps to the side, into him, his hide warm in comparison to the cool atmosphere of the caves. She notices, but it is lost to her as she stares into the runes, gaze squinting as though it might help her make sense of them. The figures and lines danced in her mind, their patterns confusing, but there were patterns, as pointed out by Quilyan. "Yes," she agrees after a moment, stepping towards the fountain, the absence of his touch a sudden ache of cold. "Yes I see what you mean!" she exclaims, a thrill running through her and leaving her breathless. She gasps, her wings extending in joy before sliding sloppily back against her sides.
Her head turned over her shoulders, a grin beaming out at Quilyan. "You're so smart, I would never have made that connection" She mused for a moment then, humming as she looked at the runes and the fountain. "What did the Earth God say about this fountain? It cures the wraiths?"
04-04-2014, 01:13 AM (This post was last modified: 04-04-2014, 01:13 AM by Quilyan.)
But when his heart was lifted up, and his mind hardened in pride...
Quilyan
...he was deposed from his kingly throne, and they took his glory from him.
Her warmth is a surprise after the cold, damp air of the caverns. He has grown used to the darkness, become insensitive to the lacking heat; but upon feeling her hide on his he is immediately reminded of the sun and the skies. He glances at her, but she is entranced, and perhaps that is for the best, for every man must fall to his desires when given the chance, and he would prefer other chances with another fae for that. She steps away, quickly, and the moment passes, his lust forgotten in the rush of her excitement. She seems young in that moment, and carefree, swept up in the adrenaline of their discovery. He grins, his banner falling in carefree locks across his face and down his nape, the picture of the mischievous prince he had been before the Anarchists.
He shakes his head at her praise, though it warms him despite the absence of the touch that had thrilled him so only moments before. "No, m'lady - I am no smarter than you. It takes the right questions to bring about the right answers. We just happen to make quite the pair." He pauses, his gaze roving the room again, settling on the fountain. "Where I come from, we have - had -" a slight frown appears, but is smoothed away impatiently, "more advanced communication methods. These are rudimentary, but I have studied their like in Th'orquian histories." He has forgotten the mention of the fountain's purpose, but brings his attention back to it promptly. He does not know her, or of her, and so he does not know how keen her interest in such a cure would be, but he is happy to pass on what knowledge he does know. He hopes that they can eradicate the cursed from the lands and emerge once more into daylight.
"It is but a rumor I heard in passing, but it seems supported by the runes. It was said that the God of the Earth appeared here and indicated the water of this fountain as a cure for the illnesses above ground. I have not seen proof of this myself, regrettably, nor was I here for his appearance."
[W/C | ---]
Walk walk walk. Talk talk talk. Think think think.
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