"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.
Ophelia watched as the snake tried to communicate through gestures. Obviously the venomous little heathen agreed with her, and her features tightened as the only display if her continuing displeasure with the snake. The mare found it rather cute the way he said her name in a long, distinct sort of way, but she did not comment on his pronunciation or verbal skills. Obviously he either did not speak this language or did not care, and either way, it was none of her business. The people he returned to seemed very tribal, not too concerned with speaking.
When he agreed to follow her, she set a swift pace, cloven hooves carrying her easily over the grasses. She assumed that he would be irritated with having a grounded traveling partner, so she did her best to keep her gait quick. Night fell a few times on their journey, and she sparkled, as usual. Ophelia was ever surprised that the shards from the stone had not disappeared from her hair, but she liked that she shone. The mare was not vain, but she needed something about herself that she actually liked - even if it was only an adornment and not her bloody, frightening figure.
Days later, they reached the stone bridge that arched over the ocean far below. She did not hesitate as she crossed, jumping her way up to the shrines in a naturally agile way. The stones were broken, busted, still, but she knew which was which - she had been here enough times. Tinek was not happy at all with the journey, and he grumbled and growled from a distance, glaring all the while. Why Ophelia would trust this Gaucho was beyond him, and he let her know frequently that he thought this was a stupid idea.
Ophelia looked up at the sky, taking a deep breath. "God of Time," she said reverently, though inside, she still blamed him for taking advantage of her. "I bring Gaucho to you for guidance."
Undertow has come to take me. Guided by the blazing sun. Look at everything around us. Look at everything we've done.
Please. Anyone. I don't think I can save myself. I'm drowning.
I'M THE END OF A HITCHCOCK MOVIE A LITTLE DARK AND A LOT CONFUSING.
He hadn't minded the journey at all, actually. That Ophelia's physique forced him to remain on the ground, was good exercise. He knew many of his kin whose legs were lacking in muscle precisely because they chose to fly instead of walk. Gaucho, in his simplicity, was happy to have the opportunity to ensure that the entirety of his body was in appropriate shape. Although had he really thought about it, he might have been anxious to get where they were going. After all, if one of the God's would arrive, perhaps all would be made clear. Ophelia had revealed what was partially hidden away in his mind - obscured by whatever drug he had been given. In that, he had been correct. There had been a plot against his mind, just not one concocted by anyone in Helovia, as he had previously be inclined to believe. This sudden realization, angered Mara greatly. The serpent had been telling him from the beginning that he was wrong - that those who had met him the Threshold, the one who had followed him and fought him - were not the ones responsible. Apparently all that was needed was confirmation from a pretty face to sway Gaucho's mind. Did their bond mean so little? She was being unfair of course. Ophelia, regardless of whatever sort of trance she had over Gaucho, did have magic. Magic was something the large dun was very receptive to.
Their journey had been in easy silence. Gaucho's simplistic demeanor did not require him to force awkward conversation. He enjoyed Ophelia's brisk pace (and the wonderful view granted by following her..), even if Mara and Tinek failed to find the present company enjoyable.
As Ophelia danced nimbly across the stones, Gaucho finally took flight - needing to stretch his wings. He glided easily, for the distance wasn't very long, landing with a grace ill-befitting such a primitive looking beast. '
Although the land was foreign to Gaucho - at least in his current state - he still found himself positioned near the God of the Sun's shrine. There was something about it that seemed...centered somehow. As if everything else was in flux, save for this point. As Ophelia spoke, Gaucho absentmindedly kicked a few stones away from the God's shrine.
It was the beginning of autumn, and the leaves were beginning to change colors. Orangemoon was a particularly ironic season in some ways - the brilliant yellows and oranges were reminiscent of fire, reminding the mortals of the God of the Sun and his everlasting importance; but his season was over by the time the leaves started to change, his power and influence waning as the temperatures began to plummet and the days began to grow shorter. Still, despite the fact that his mood tended to reflect the darker days, every now and then he decided he would answer the calls sent to him by his subjects.
And so it was that he took it upon himself to appear in place of his sibling. The day was interrupted by a bright flash; when the light cleared, an orb of flame hung suspended in midair. It grew slowly, as though devouring the very air form which it appeared, and finally began to shape itself into the form of the god himself.
The mare was of no interest to him. Not anymore. The stallion, though... Gaucho had always shown the God of the Sun reverence, had borne the god's word into the Dragon's Throat, ensuring that the herd would regard him as highly as they should their patron god. The brute's magic stemmed from the Sun, his worship centered on the Sun, and therefore he, at least might prove amusing to entertain, if only for a short while. Besides, he did so enjoy irking the God of Time. "Gaucho," he rumbled in a voice tainted with arrogance. "You have returned."
Of course the God of Time did not show up. And of course the God of the Sun did show up. Ophelia watched as a bright light blinded her, and he descended in a fiery orb, and she felt her heart plummet to her hooves. Quickly, the assembled her emotional armor, eyes going from soft to icy in seconds. He did not even give her a sideways glance before regarding Gaucho. Being in his presence was too difficult, not now, knowing that he could destroy her in fire if he so wanted.
The pale princess touched Gaucho on the shoulder with her soft, gray muzzle. "I'll be across the bridge," she muttered, turning to dance her way down the stones, careful to avoid the churning, blue lava. Ophelia cast a backward glance at the stallion, wondering what the God of the Sun had to do with him? Still, that was none of her business, not anymore.
Ophelia waited on the other side of the fiery, blue island, hooves on the edge of the cliffs, looking at the ocean crashing below. Absently, she kicked a few rocks, counting the seconds they took before hitting the frothy surface. Quite a few seconds. There, she would wait until they had finished their conversation.
[[PERSONAL NOTE: this happens BEFORE the quest drop.
Also, Phi will post when Sun God and Gaucho are done :) I don't want to hold anyone up]]
Undertow has come to take me. Guided by the blazing sun. Look at everything around us. Look at everything we've done.
Please. Anyone. I don't think I can save myself. I'm drowning.
I'M THE END OF A HITCHCOCK MOVIE A LITTLE DARK AND A LOT CONFUSING.
So in awe by the firey arrival of the God was Gaucho, that he failed to notice any of the signs of unease or coldness that so obviously were displayed on Ophelia's beautiful features. If he had, he might have wondered why she brought him here in the first place. Was this all part of the trap as well? Those who lied failed to capture him, but the suggestion of a pretty mare had. He had followed her here willingly, and now, as she left him before this fiery deity, one smarter than Gaucho might wonder if she had been in on it the whole time.
But Gaucho did not wonder, for reverence and awe promptly took hold of all of his mental faculties.
The dun nodded distractedly at Ophelia's words, his blue-gray gaze holding fixedly upon the God of the Sun. The flames that gently lingered upon his wings and hooves - a gift from the God before him - paled in comparison to the liquid fire that lined the body of the golden stag. Even without his memory, something bent the brindled knee's of the WildFire, lowering his massive frame into a bow. The bone piercing Gaucho's dark nose brushed the rock and rubble that covered the Veins, as tangles of think black mane fell before his closed eyes. Rising, Gaucho regarded the God for a moment, before crinkling his nose in confusion.
"Gaucho not remember leaving...Gaucho not remember..." Fumbling for the words, his gaze roamed upwards to where Mara slunk in his antlers. Conferring briefly with the snake, his gaze returned to the God. "...anything."
The WildFire stood passively, awaiting the judgement of the God. If it was true what Mara and the others had said, that he had been the leader of the Dragon's Throat (which Mara now reluctantly told him was the herd of this particular God), then perhaps wrath and punishment awaited him. If he had been a worthy leader, would the God show him mercy? Would he reinstall him as lead once again, or had others taken up his place? If they had...were they deserving? Was the God more pleased with them, than with him? Questions floated through his primitive mind, but his gaze remained passive and blank. Gaucho was a creature of honor and ritual. If he were to be condemned for whatever memories he had lost, then so be it. He would accept his penance willingly and without argument. He would accept whatever course the God had in store for him.
TAG: Ophelia & God of the Sun| # WC | Notes if needed.
The mare's reaction to his appearance was not lost on the flaming god, though he much preferred Gaucho's reverence to Ophelia's icy discomfort. He watched her with an expression of mixed indifference and distaste as she began to take her leave of his presence. Even now, even after having scorned his gifts and his favor, she would choose to alienate herself from him. He couldn't quite fathom it, but somehow, she always managed to leave him rather peeved. "It was quite nice of Ophelia to bring you here," he told Gaucho, his eyes still on his former devotee. "She likes to dabble in memories, did you know? Invading memories is her specialty. I'm surprised that she even thought to ask the gods for guidance." His voice had a cutting, mocking edge, a sort of flimsy shield against her longtime avoidance of him.
Of course, he had sent her away.
But, in any case, that was then and this was now, and he apparently had more pressing matters to deal with. "I suppose you'd like your memories back?" he asked. Without waiting for a proper response, he sent a touch of his magic into the recesses of the stallion's mind, poking and prodding and prying at the memories hidden in darkness. "You've proven yourself a fierce warrior, and a devout follower of the Sun. Restoring your memories is a gift of recognition. You have been a true ambassador of my light, carrying my torch both within the herd of the Dragon's Throat and without; you have been a strong and valiant leader -" (the likes of which were currently lacking - oh, he liked the two Sultanas well enough, but they weren't particularly prepared for any sort of major battle) "- and although your flames surely prove where your allegiance lies, it is my wish that, memories or no, there will never be any question of who you serve.
"You shall carry my mark so that all may know, even if you may forget." Flames flowed gently from the god then, radiating a gentle, soothing heat. They reached for Gaucho, tracing gently along the curves of his wings, along his neck, settling on his antlers. They glowed more brightly, blinding any who chose to look at them for too long, and then, suddenly, they were gone. In place of the flames were new, glowing markings, symbols that were clearly representative of the sun and the god's power.
08-21-2014, 02:06 PM (This post was last modified: 08-21-2014, 02:07 PM by Gaucho.)
.....
GAUCHO
I'M THE END OF A HITCHCOCK MOVIE A LITTLE DARK AND A LOT CONFUSING.
Given Gaucho's forgotten memories of the deity, for a moment he wondered if he too wasn't about to be chastised. Black ears flickered slightly as the God described Ophelia. She had invaded his mind, but if she hadn't, surely he would still be mentally lost, wandering about seeking to end the life of anyone who even appeared suspicious.
Before he had a chance to respond, the God was again speaking, and whatever mentally energy was being utilized to consider the God's previous statements, suddenly focused upon what he was saying now. I suppose you'd like your memories back? How ironic. Likely only Ophelia would appreciate this cruel irony - she had asked the Sun God to return her memories, only to be banished from his light. Gaucho, unwittingly was asking for the same, only to be received with praise and compliance.
The WildFire felt the God's magic working within his mind, felt a sort of opening and shuffling, as memories bobbed to the surface and aligned themselves. The cold reality of what had happened flooded back, and for a moment Gaucho merely stood frozen in place. The words of the God were not comforting, but instead felt like knives piercing very core. The darkness - W.A.R - they were fighting, they had won. And then he had left. What must the God think of him, for leaving without so much as a word? Mara hissed gently, consoling the warped thoughts shifting through her bonded's mind. He ssssssseesssss your memoriesssssss. He knowssss what happppppened. She offered, patting the side of his neck with her tail. If he wassssss mad, he would not give you thissssss giffffft - she projected the image of the markings that glowed in odd shapes on his antlers, as he could not see them.
Without saying a word, the dun dropped to his knees, nose brushing the stone. Flame-tipped wings extended outwards from his shoulders, also laying down upon the ground; a pose of complete submission. "Gaucho never leave again." He promised, with an odd warmth and sincerity.
"What Gaucho do now?" He inquired, brindled knees straightening as he rose to a standing position once again. His stormy gaze settled upon the God with an unwavering conviction in his word. For better or worse, he was an ambassador of the Sun know, and he would follow his instructions to the letter. "Return to Throat?"
The Throat... Who led them? Who had taken over his place? Midas? Or even worse...someone not worthy ?
TAG: Ophelia & God of the Sun| # WC | Notes if needed.
For such a powerful mortal, Gaucho managed to grovel at the god's hooves extraordinarily well. With a feeling of deep satisfaction, the God of the Sun watched as the stallion dropped to his knees, proclaiming his complete devotion to the Sun and his herd. Though his words were simple, they rang true, and the god was pleased. He saw the stallion's memories, and could not hold them against him, instead opting to welcome his former Sultan back with open wings. Of course, it was a reception very unlike Ophelia's from so long ago - but he had almost forgotten about her in the midst of Gaucho's worship.
As for what the dun should do now... well, that was the question, wasn't it? "The Dragon's Throat is led by Africa the Starry-Eyed and Sohalia - I believe you've made her acquaintance," he added with the slightest of smirks. He was a god, after all, so he knew of the pair's, shall we say, exploits - and now Gaucho would remember, as well. "They are doing well enough, but they are lacking in military sense. I believe they are planning to hold a tournament soon to decide who their general will be."
He considered the steed with a cool gaze. It probably wasn't his business to direct the stallion to return to the Dragon's Throat, but then he had always been quite good at sticking his nose where it didn't belong. He was sure that Gaucho would comply, especially after seeing the fervent nature of his thanks. "The Dragon's Throat was your home before, WildFire. Were I you, I would return and fortify it."
I'M THE END OF A HITCHCOCK MOVIE A LITTLE DARK AND A LOT CONFUSING.
African and Sohalia? But... it didn't make any sense! Africa was the oracle, could with words but... well, fairly useless when it came to defense. With only one wing, what possible ways did she have of defending the herd? And Sohalia? As much as the WildFire's' heart and loins yearned for the white dove, she was no better suited than Africa. Her body was delicate and fragile - in the back of his mind, he could hear her shrieks in the caves, wondering where their daughter had disappeared to. She had...another child too. Where had that one gone? If she couldn't even look after her own children, how was she to run a herd? Lacking in military sense, the God had said. Snorting, Gaucho nodded. He assumed that they had brokered peace with the other herds - selling the might of the Throat for the promise of safety. The idea made him furious. If only Kri could see just how far what she had built, had fallen.
"Gaucho do what Sun say. Gaucho make Throat worthy of Sun." The WildFire's nose curled inwards, touching his shoulder in a gesture of respect. While others might have stayed, delayed and spoken with the God further, Gaucho turned to depart. He had been given orders, and they would be carried out swiftly and efficiently.
He would return to the Throat, but first, one thread had to be wrapped up.
Turning from the God, Gaucho took to the air, gliding neatly towards Ophelia. With his memory returned, suddenly the details of their initial meeting flooded his mind, and although Gaucho was not normally the piecer-together of puzzles, this was one mystery he had the tools to solve.
"When Gaucho find you in Fields... Invasion just happen. Throat attacked by yewwneekorns, but before, My-das and Gaucho attacked by Maww-ja. He lead My-das and Gaucho away, while yewwneekorns attack Throat." His stormy gaze was sincere, but did not appear apologetic. He looked to her horn, and shrugged simply, as if to say, You were a unicorn on the day my home was attacked. I attacked first and asked questions later. I am not sorry. "You were strong then, and strong now. You find broken part of Gaucho, and bring me to Sun. I-" Pausing, he looked at her with a curious intrigue for a moment, before letting his handsome features once again become hard. "-not know why. If you need anything, find Gaucho."
The dun did not take debts lightly. He would aid Ophelia in the future should she ever call upon him, for better or worse. She had done him a great service, and for that, he was grateful. "Gaucho was leader of Dragon's Throat. I go there now. You need Gaucho, I will be there."
He regarded Ophelia for a moment, briefly entranced by her beauty, strength, and knowledge. Confused perhaps by her willingness to help him, given their brief encounter in the past, but enticed all the same. However as his gaze fell upon her two-toned gaze, the thought of another invaded his mind: Sohalia, who also possessed such a gaze. He needed to return to the Throat.
Again, the WildFire curled his neck inwards bowing to the mare who had helped him without reason. Likely their paths would again cross, but for now, the will of the God needed to be carried out.
TAG: Ophelia & God of the Sun| # WC | Notes if needed.
Ophelia could not bear to look upon the sun and feel his judgment light to rot inside her soul. She looked down at her hooves which stood upon the edge of the precipice, and she shoved rocks down into the ocean below. Not once did she cast a sideways glance out of temptation, for she knew all she would see was pain. With a heavy sigh, she turned, facing the vast expanse of Helovia. The mountains she loved and to which she escaped were so far away now, barely white caps in the distance, and she longed to be closer.
The flutter of wind through wings caught her attention, and she looked up and over to see that Gaucho had landed nearby. Neither eyes nor heart betrayed any emotion. From the length of the conversation, she assumed that he had gotten what he needed, that the God of the Sun had been merciful. The thought of his mercy was enough to break her to her knees, but she let little show through her strange, dual colored eyes and her carefully schooled façade.
He spoke and she listened. She had learned as much that Mauja had attacked Guacho and Midas, but why, she did not know. She supposed that she could reach into his mind and find out for herself, but that seemed rather cruel now. Ophelia did not expect to see apology in his eyes, as much as she would have appreciated more than just a simple explanation. Did he truly think all unicorns were the same, that his unbridled and undiscriminating rage was justified just because his home was attacked? He was wrong, but she accepted it nonetheless.
Why did she help him? Simple. Because she had a desperate and pathetic need to love and be loved and yet a crippling inability to commit or open to anyone. She was her own worst enemy. In response to his words, she simply shrugged, copying his gesture and smiling wryly. What was she supposed to say? That she wanted nothing more than the approval of those around her? That she was weak and he was wrong? If she needed anything, she would call on him, and she nodded once. “Thank you.”
Ophelia stared back at him, her eyes unyielding and walled. She bowed her head back and then started the journey north once more.
Undertow has come to take me. Guided by the blazing sun. Look at everything around us. Look at everything we've done.
Please. Anyone. I don't think I can save myself. I'm drowning.
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