"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, struggling with the thought of affection and the mystery of her experience with Gaucho's mind, wandered through the fields of this damn island in the sky. Had all those she had attempted to manipulate succeeded? Had her subtle influx of suggestion woven their intended purpose? She had no way of knowing if she had succeeded at all. Torleik seemed changed, but Cirrus? Kahlua? The mysterious leader of the World's Edge seemed so unsure of herself, and the winged girl who had suffered such a loss had long since been gone.
The pale princess stood, hooves brushing the edges of a small stream as she looked up. Night graced the sky, and she saw naught but the moon, treacherous and beautiful at once. Much like Torleik, she mused. He had the capability to slay her with a single word, but his body and mind were handsome and his heart was pure. Ah, but she did not deserve such undamaged care and unadulterated compassion, for the hole in her soul and the broken cracks would consume it like food and give nothing back.
Now, the grasp she had on her sun, the guide of her life, was so tenuous and delicate. With any murmur of ill-spoken thoughts, she could relegate herself to untouchable again, unworthy of being spoken to and ignored. Ophelia desperately did not want that to happen, but she had to know if her efforts have been noticed- if she had succeeded at all. The pale princess knew not how to summon a god, but she hoped that when she thought loud enough, he listened.
"God of the Sun," she rumbled, looking to the east where the sun would rise. The shards of stone sparkled in her hair, giving the pale princess in silver armor an almost ethereal glow. "Please guide me," she asked. "Please tell me if my efforts were worthy. If... if I am worthy." The words held more meaning. Was she worthy of love? Was she worth the black stallion's attention?
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@[Random Event] @[God of the Sun]
@[Bellona] - can join if you want to!
Torleik | http://helovia.net/showthread.php?tid=16430 (Phi says that you can't be afraid of those you love)
Torleik in the same thread says to Irelyn he is going to work on not being afraid of her fire
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.
The glue that tentatively held the fissure that the pale mare had caused so many seasons ago was not so strong that their bond was impenetrable. Even now, even after he had forgiven Ophelia - a gesture that not many received from the God - he felt the cracks in his heart shift, grinding away into dust the binds of her exoneration. That in her thoughts he now found the presence of another, one who surely could never rival the God of the Sun, and yet when it came to airtime in Ophelia's mind, was pulling ahead. And quickly. It might be nothing but ... then again Ophelia had come here under the guise of moonlight. Perhaps it was to accentuate the way her coat - adorned with silver and the sheen of the stars glimmered in the pale light, or perhaps it was to emphasize that the God's light could triumph even the darkness. Perhaps she wanted to ensure the two were alone ... but perhaps she wanted to ensure they were not seen.
But the God would accuse Ophelia of nothing. Although the words would never be spoken, he too was fearful that Ophelia would somehow force him to relinquish his adoration for her. It would be her doing of course, for the blame could never fall with him. He was a God, and she was just ... just Ophelia. But she was his Ophelia.
A small spark flickered in mid air, casting light upon the ground and illuminating the vibrant grasses. It was quickly followed by another, and then another! as if some invisible firework was noiselessly exploding before her. These sparks did not fall to the ground however, but began to swell and brighten. Flames licked outwards from the light, gently wrapping themselves around the molten form of the God. His body burned perhaps more vibrantly in these midnight hours
"Ophelia." He greeted her warmly. The flowers she had brought for him so long ago still blossomed as if only placed in his mane yesterday; still fresh and vibrant. His muzzle extended outwards towards her shoulder without hesitation, to touch the softness of the flesh there. The God was surprised to find more muscle beneath her pristine coat than he had remembered. Was his memory faulty? Or had she grown stronger since last they had met?
"Whether or not your efforts are worthy and whether or not you are worthy are two different questions." He mused, perhaps trying to get a rise out of her mind - one that he knew intimately to be complex and wise. "Are your efforts worthy enough to grant the power you seek?" His burning gaze flashes with adoration and temptation as he nodded decisively. "Yes. But are you worthy? Worthy of what Ophelia? You who have bore the child of a God-" (his teeth visibly clicked as he said this. Clearly he underestimated the anger that would rise at the mention of what the God of Time had done to her. In that small regard, perhaps he and Torleik could find common ground) "- and have lead herds in the past and continue to lead one now. You are bonded to a royal soul and when you leave here you shall do so with more power than when you came." His voice had become much softer and warmer as he spoke, dispelling the irritation thoughts of Roskuld and her conception brought.
The reason for the veil of night was innocent. She was drowning in darkness, embraced by the night of her own soul as the light revealed far too many flaws. Here, in the darkness, she needed the gentle hum of her nightlight, the single god in the whole of Helovia who had the power to expunge her sins and grant her absolution. Despite the pain he caused, her suffering in his absence, she still turned her head to the bright sky, trusting his judgment above all others. For in those deep, golden orbs, she saw a purity and understanding so absent in his siblings.
Flickers of light started to spark in the grass. Here. There. Like little fireflies or a silent, dying flame. A smile graced her lips, watching them surround her with brightness and bathe her in his grace. Together, these sparkles merged, forming the body of the God of the Sun, and she lowered her gaze, his godliness too great to behold in his transformation. Surely it would burn her eyes, blind her forever.
The warm greeting of his voice like honey lifted her eyes, and she smiled gently, still so unsure of their relationship, fearful of ruining the future again. His muzzle pressed against her shoulder, a close gesture offered to her only once before, and she felt her heart flutter, unsure if she dared to return it. To touch his body? To be that close to his golden hide? If only she were brave.
Instead, she closed her eyes, gently leaning into his touch and letting out her tension upon exhale. He had heard her words, and she was not surprised. In return, she was offered a riddle, one that brought gladness to her heart. He never told her what she must or mustn't do. The god guided with suggestions, interested in exploring her thoughts, and for this, she was grateful. He cared. Worthy actions deserved a separate praise from being inwardly worthy. What she displayed and who she was were often competing, and she could not reconcile the same treatment between the two.
She was glad though, that her efforts had worked, and she nodded slowly. Ophelia looked away in shame at the mention of her bearing Roskuld, just now, a year later, able to sort through her feelings on the matter. Perhaps then, without her memories, she had consented to a night with the Time God, but now, she felt raped. Looking at Roskuld issued a sickening array of emotions, loving her daughter deeply but reminded of the transgressions against her body with every similarity between her and her father.
"Ah," she murmured quietly. "You have stated actions, some of which I was not even... aware of... when I made them. Efforts, as you said. When efforts and my own worthiness are two separate questions and therefore have two different answers..." she trailed thoughtfully. Ophelia looked up into his burnished gaze, feeling her worries sweep away into the sea of his honesty. "What I have done and who I am seem so different," she replied. "I am broken, damaged, shattered. Doubts cloud every word I hear from others, and access to their minds are the only way in which I can trust. Even then, the thought of baring my soul to be broken again would leave me irreparable. I am barely breathing at the surface of my own sins, fears and doubts. How could I ever bring someone else into my misery?" she asked honestly, earnestly. "Wouldn't proving my love be saving them from myself? Would breaking their heart now, leave it whole for another, be kinder than any returned affections?" she asked, feeling emotion rise in her throat and taint her eyes with glassy clouds.
"What makes me worthy of another? How can I justify the possibility of pain with my own selfishness? Is it wrong to... to want love?" Do I even deserve it?
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.
She was a clever soul, and it was that vibrant force within her that both propelled his adoration of her through their shared darkness, but also caused the tension that she so obviously carried. Ignorance might be bliss, but Ophelia, who had been sheltered from herself seasons before had a very different take on whether or not that might be true. Yet Ophelia was still limited by her mortality, and the God could see this clearly. There was little he could do to open her eyes to the truth of her situation, the truth of her being, without breaking her mind entirely. He could see her for what and who she was, even when that identity was veiled to her.
Doubt and trust. Sighing, the God nodded as she spoke, her soliloquy of her own torment perhaps meant for her own ears rather than his. "To act requires knowledge. It would be foolish of you, for example, to lead a charge against an enemy if you did not know them to be deserving of your wrath. Or to lead your troops to an area in which you did not know them to be. If you did, you would be deserving of their criticism, citing your lack of knowledge as precisely the reason you are culpable. In that regard, your doubt serves to guide your words and actions. When you act in a way that is not sympathetic to doubts you harbor, you open yourself up to criticism and blame. You also potentially put others at risk. In this regard, your doubt is your greatest ally, for while all those around you might confidently espouse your plans and schemes, it is only the lingering voice in the back of your mind that dares to speak against you, when no one else will." He paused, sympathetic and golden gaze gently washing over her. "But trust ... Trust is ... enigmatic and paradoxical. It requires you to cast away the nagging need for justification and evidence. It is a leap of faith over a pit of vipers, with only the word or perhaps honest gaze of another as assurance that you will not perish."
Omniscience was a gift the God could not grant to Ophelia, although perhaps the new magic she held might aid her somewhat.
"The choice is yours. You might live with doubt resting always on your shoulders, where your decisions, because they are guided by the need to be sure, might always be free of criticism. Or ... you might let yourself fall. Open yourself to the accusations of others so that you might trust in them."
His body glowed gently in the twilight that fell upon them. His words were spoken in a tone reserved for only a few - possibly only his siblings and Ophelia. It was a tone that suggested he was not speaking down to her, or explaining something to someone below him. In intellect, he considered Ophelia an equal as far as any mortal could hold such a position, and so it was in this manner that he addressed her.
"Love does not ask for permission Ophelia." He continued. "Nor does it require perfection." It was impossible to tell if the God was reciting his own experiences (possibly with regards to her), or with her situation with Torleik. Perhaps it didn't matter.
But perhaps it did.
"One might justify pain in all sorts of ways. You might think that whatever pleasures love brings is worth the pain that might follow. Or you might think that love is itself an inherently valuable state to be in, such that whatever pain accompanies it is unimportant. Childbirth for example, is nearly always accompanied by both pain and love. Yet it would be strange to cite the causal necessity of pain as the reason to not have a child. The creation of life is in itself worthy of having, and so whatever pain might follow is merely an unhappy consequence, but should not serve as a reason to avoid it.
"No.." He murmured softly to her final question. It was not wrong to want love. His honey gaze searched her silently, as his own feelings fluttered uncertainly within himself. A certain paternal love was one that he could offer to the mortals, but the sort of love of which Ophelia spoke was not one that he could openly share. In this he felt conflicted. If selfishness was allowed to guide action he might have advised her to keep her icy walls high, to protect the sanctity of her soul and keep herself from others, but only so that she could remain as alone as He. And yet ... well. Love does make lovers do strange things...
"No it is not wrong. And it is worth the risk. It is not up to you to determine whether the pain you might cause to others is worth their sacrifices. That is for them to decide. And, should heartbreak be the outcome, it is upon their soul to bear the decisions they've have made, just as it is upon yours to bear yours."
Ophelia stood at his mercy, open to all of his words and awaiting his judgment. She listened without reservation, trusting when she already had so little to trust. He validated her sense of doubt, hesitancy born of failed attempts before, and she knew that her hunger for knowledge and patience had afforded her victories far before she was mature enough to understand the gravity of her actions. Age had barely carried her into adulthood when she waged her first war, successful in building a home for those who rested their faith on her shoulders. She and her sister had followed through. Doubts had been so important.
Yet so many demanded otherwise.
The thought of trust, of leaping over the pit of vipers, expecting solid ground to find her at the other side was hard. Too many times had she been let down and hurt others. Too many times had she made that leap and wound up injured and broken-hearted. Too many times had she jumped only to realize that the one she wanted on the other side was gone. Just gone. How could she jump again, trust again, when patterns told her that she was undeserving, never worthy of the heart of another? At what point was she a masochist for continuing to cause herself pain, knowing the outcome?
Ophelia averted her gaze, feeling failure creep on her despite actions not even having been taken yet. The darkened sky served as a perfect canvas for his glowing, godly coat. And she? A pale blight on the earth, strange, odd in appearance and so painstakingly plain. Bizarre, dual colored eyes took in his beauty and felt her heart break with every plane of his face. What she saw in the god was perfection, a light that hunted every flaw in her soul and yanked it into judgment day. And she had many.
But what he said next gave her hope. Love does not require perfection. She furrowed her brows, cautiously meeting his gaze again. Confusion swept over her features, and she waited patiently for his explanation.
He was right, though. Her fears were no excuse for action. The possibility of failure no reason for stillness. And she... she deserved love? Those words settled on her like an awkward embrace, and she stiffly accepted it, disbelieving. Honestly, she had expected him to tell her that no one deserves love, but they get it anyway. But to deserve it? Torleik had already decided. So... she should accept it. Saving him from herself was not her responsibility, not if they wanted her so badly. That sad oddly on her mind, not inline with her natural ability to self-sacrifice.
Still, she smiled, the expression bright and awed, dual colored gaze twinkling. "You give good advice," she complimented. "I am honored to have received your wisdom.""I... I cannot make other's decisions for them, and as foolish as they might be, they will end up being their mistakes. Yet to know all of this does not make acting any less frightening," she chuckled nervously. "I feel like a coward, hiding in the mountains, but remembering makes forgiving so hard."
And yet, as she looked into those ancient, wise eyes, she felt as if all her problems paled in comparison to a lifetime of being alone. She wished she could ease his suffering, but her mortal life would rise and fall like the sun, fading into a night from which she would never return. Whatever promises she would make now would linger like a wound in the afterlife, and she would become one of many generations to come. One of many seeking wisdom. One of many to make her mark so that it could fade. She was comfortable with the inevitability of her own denouement. The idea of dying did not scare her in the slightest; it was simply the way of things.
To never die would be so much worse. It was a lonely existence, to live forever. Everything and everyone you loved would fade, and you would live on, like torture.
"You offer so much of yourself to us," she murmured softly. "For as long as I am able, I will do my best to return the favor. I will serve you until my last breath." Ophelia made her vow, the words not uttered lightly. For regardless of her faults, she was loyal until the end. The pale princess bowed her head deeply, tip of her crown touching the ground before her hooves as she bent her knee.
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.
Unlike his brother, foreknowledge of what was to come was not a power especially present to his mind. And so, where the Spark might have been able to see generations of small Ophelia's coming to him, each with a shimmer that was a pale mirroring of her own clear gaze, the Sun could not. Although he knew it. He knew in his bones the Foresaken would one day succumb to death, although he silently prayed that she would not. Immortality was a gift they bestowed very rarely onto the mortals and yet ... would she not earn the gift for herself? Surely her deeds, and not his words, would convince his kin she was deserving of their blessings? And even if they didn't what of it? Could he not have her, cloaked in a shawl of immortality, for ever?
The God sighed, unable to articulate these thoughts, and knowing that even if he could, that he would not. Ophelia's life was hers to live, and she deserved whatever love and happiness this Torleik who constantly invaded her thoughts could bring. It was a lonely existence being a God, but even more lonely was the place of lover to one who could never be faithful, never be present, but who was always eternal.
"You are no coward Ophelia, even if your wisdom makes you feel as such." He chuckled.
Fire dripped from his molten wings as he bridged the gap between the two. He could transfer magic to her without the need for physical contact and yet ... yet it didn't seem fitting. Extending a wing, lines of fire dripped from his feathers to fall upon the pristine glow of her coat. There was no sensation of burning of course, only a warm and almost loving heat that seemed to meld into her very core. For a moment Ophelia glowed as the Sun God did, her body lit from within with the magic of his soul. The magic she had quested for flooded her veins and mind, instilling in her the power to speak into the minds of others.
"There's also this ... " He mused, his voice sounding far away as if lost in a distant memory. With his wing still hovering over her wither, a point of pure light seemed to descend from his golden feathers. There was a small - although unbreakable - silver chain that fastened itself to the light, and yet because of the brilliance it was almost imperceptible. It was the essence of pure sunlight, but only a single drop. Anything more would have the ability to permanently blind, but this small amount would still prove impossible to look at for anything more than a second or two. And even then, it would be all too easy to lose oneself to the blindingly-white center, pulsing with an enigmatic glow of golden warmth.
"As a reminder." Carefully, he moved his wing so that he could slip the slender chain around her horn. The light pulsed, and then ebbed away slightly. "You shall never be without my light again." The words he had been unable to speak before, when he had given her this quest, finally said aloud.
She was forgiven, not foresaken. He would not abandon her again.
Congratulations! Ophelia has received
:: [Magic: Light | able to speak into the minds of others and communicate telepathically]
:: [Restrictions | Must be within 10m of intended target. ]
Ophelia has also received a custom item!
:: [ Item: Sunlight Essence | an orb of sunlight tied around her horn that can emit blinding light when needed ]
:: [Restrictions | can be used to temporarily blind opponents - effects lasting 10 seconds]
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