"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.
Gone! So the stars fled from the arching halls of the midnight sky, dissipated in obsidian smoke, and how he longed to run with them, vanish from Helovia- Helovia, the cursed place! Yet they did not have the courtesy to speak their tearful farewells, no, they eloped off the moon and did not look back to the elvish boy scrupulously charting their movements. Damn them! Damn them all, traitors and cowards and chortling fiends! They had not warned him of this, this, this resident and preposterous evil that swarmed up and ate- devoured- the earth!
Carnesîr the elvish boy, the craven child, had squealed with fright and shrieked as the darkness chewed on the soft red of his tender, foolish heart.
Faica umbar, his family would say to him; but he was convinced that somehow this was his fault. Oh! Eternal darkness to shroud the earth, surely not! But it was. It was he who left Shadow when she birthed in blood and pain, scared of his own yonya, convinced the colt of his own seed would reject him. He was but a child, straight-legged and slender-boned, wide-eyed and disbelieving of earth's magic; how could he be expected to raise a boy? Of one thing he was certain: he could only mess up, again and again and again, as he had done for the entirety of his miserable short life. It writhed in him, paranoia and terror, a niggling and astute belief of his inability to be a proper parent; and he had doomed the entirety of Helovia because of it! Shadows black crawled and seethed across the surface of the earth- shadows black as his melda heri Shadow. It must be connected to the devastating truth that he knew and knows and had known: he was a coward, a craven king crowned only with his own atrocious acts of treachery, wallowing in his self-pity, suffocating in the knowledge he deserved death for deserting a child and his bleeding mother.
He comforted himself with heart-wrenching guilt-ridden lies! Tenna enta lúmë, Carnesîr had told himself. And yet- and yet!- that time had come and gone when he lurked around hoping Shadow would be okay, instead of making her okay!
Oh, he sobbed; he sobbed himself a river not once, but twice, and his tears had run dry, the elvish prince a child, at a loss in this desolate world. Always did he look, but never did he find, and he went to increasingly desperate measures. Indeed, the star-loving sun lord had ventured into the unimaginable horrors of the dark reigning above outside; flinching at every rustle, leaping at every sound, and then he slunk back to the caves with his skull down and his cleft hooves dragging. It was but another of his futile attempts. What if they had been eaten? Or worse, turned into one of the undead lurking?
In silent vigil he stood sentry at the fountain, surrounding by the history he had loved, the history he had no desire to decipher-
For he had failed his family for the thousandth time.
base table code by tamme
art by aeolle hover for translations
There was a lightness and cheerful ring to th clip clop of tiny hooves that approached the cavern hall. One might not pay much heed to it at first. After all, the air within the underground sanctuary was humming with sound; hooves against rock, rushing water, the murmur of voices and the occasional loud shriek as a babe raised its voice in violent objection... and below all that, so deep a rumble and so quiet compared to all the racket was the sound of magma that emanated from the first chamber. It was a constant churning and whispering as rock bubbled and boiled, solidified only to melt once again and splatter against the transparent quartz with a teasing hiss - as though it was trying to get out of its chamber and mingle with the frail mortals that had invaded its quarters.
Yet, despite the constant torrent of sound there was something decidedly different about these steps. Lighter than most, brighter than many; it was the kind of steps made by someone who didn't worry, who wasn't weighed down by sorrows or troubles or the crushing weight of bedrock above their heads. Oh, how rare such a person was in these dark days!
Perhaps it didn't come as a surprise to find that the cheerful ring originated in the excited prances of a foal. Even children had worries these days, but Kari felt that his had just begun to solve themselves, one string at a time unfolding from the great tangle of worry and trouble and despair that knotted around his heart. Through the generosity of a kind lady his belly was full and thirst slaked, he had a caring auntie who had promised to help him and, as if the very gods themselves had opened a sleepy eye to smile on him and bless him with good luck, he had been able to find the largest group of brave people he could ever hope to come across. Surely someone of all those adults would have time and skill enough to save him. Surely, between Mauja and the lighting lady and Africa and all the others, someone would want to save his mother.
Kari was overjoyed. It felt like something big and black and sticky had let go of his chest, allowing him to breathe easy for the first time since he was separated from the shadowmare. Dizzy with elvation he bounded down the narrow corridors, ducking in and out of crowds and slipping between tall legs on his way to the painted room. Maybe he would find auntie Africa there, but even if he didn't he would do like she had done before the first time he met her. He would close his eyes, turn to the colorful depictions that sprawled across the wall and pray to the gods she had spoken of. Surely, if they weren't the source of this madness and disease, they would do whatever they could to help him reach his goals. At least it felt like it was worth a shot.
It was with a smile so wide that it all but split his face in two that the young colt slipped around a corner and rushed into the room, his oversized wings half open and tail set high to aid him in keeping balance. A glittering set of blue eyes swept quickly over the room to see who all was there already, used by now to never being alone anywhere (there were far too many horses crammed into these few caves for that, even if they indeed were big rooms). As his gaze fell upon a gray shape at the center of the room, hovering around the clucking fountain like a ghost of misery, the hybrid boy skidded into an abrupt halt. Just as suddenly as he had appeared, as quickly did the smile on his face vanish, replaced by a face so blank that it could as well have been a slate wall.
He remained quiet, frozen in place as he stared at the stallion he had only seen once before in his life yet knew just as well as his mother had.
There was a gentle clattering of nimble hooves on stone, but they were not his; his gaze was miserably fixed upon the ground, shoulders hunched, the soft corners of his mouth curved firmly down. Carnesîr is a selfish boy, for all his best intentions- it is easy for him to wallow in the depths of pity, to bemoan his horrid fate and awful luck, so that the world would fade into a dark background. He would not think that if he were to look up, he might see a face he had burned with longing for, did not think to extricate himself the tangled, writhing knots of emotion in his breast. Rather, he is enraptured in the art of nostrils flaring in peculiarly whimpering exhales, the twitching of his tail-tip, the curl of his lowered neck.
He awaits a barbed comment, a voice of honeyed concern to reach out at him, and his mind fumbles for something to respond to.
There is nothing.
Fear begins to choke at his throat (what if it was something else? Something not so benign as just hooves on the ground?) What if a wraith had gotten in? No, no it couldn't be; and the craven child is petrified, terrified to move his gaze up, full of indecision and soul-tearing confusion, the slowly shredding fabrics of emotion and logic. He crumbles; he wilts; shrinking to a forlorn ghost of a stallion (if he could even be called that, when he lacks the swarthy muscle of a true war-horse!) The gentle curve of his ribcage constricts as he inhales sharply, holding his breath, waiting for the unknown watcher to desert and abandon him, but no such thing happens. And slowly, dreading what he might see, the line of his vision crawls upwards from rock to ebony hoof to barred legs and slate silver- and he recognizes the shape of those slender legs!
Through the cavern his cry rings, a rippling song of joy, unmistakable in it's elation and astonishment, a lilting shout of elvish. "Yonya! Kari!" Forwards he bolts, clumsy in his joy, leaping and scrambling downwards with nimble-footed and contradictory grace, boyish grin curling his lips.
"Ui! It cannot be you, my son, yonya- I have looked so long for you! I swear, I am sorry, ai, I never meant to leave you! I was afraid, I am a coward, forgive me, ánin apsenë!" And he flows to smooth halt, liquid muscle, eyes urgent with his desperation, curling his head in hopes to reach out and brush his muzzle over his dear son's forehead. "My thoughts have always been with you- always, yonya- whatever may have happened between your mother and I... I love you, you are my family, I shall not let you down again."
And his tirade comes to sudden end, and his eyes flick upwards anxiously; "but where is your mother, yonya? Where is Shadow?"