"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.
He is an unlit match in a smoldering pit of embers and kindling. His darkened body lingers in the shadows of the threshold, eyes shifting from stranger to stranger like a laser light. He analyzes with a purpose, to seek those who are as enticing as he believes himself to be—but what use is that. In the end, they will die, and he will be left to live with a broken piece. His masculinity will once again be vulnerable, his what others consider “strong” appearance might just shatter into a million pieces. So whom must he associate with, and for how long should he do so; long enough to earn their trust but risk minimal damage in the grenade?
He is dampened today, why exactly today of all days is the day he feels uneasy about himself we will never know. Watching Boltar is like watching TV with no sound, like reading a book but not understanding the language of which it is written in. His actions and motives are unseen to anyone but himself; a useful tool in the master of war but yet he will never choose to put it to use. Boltar is your car with no gas—no ambition—to drive.
Perhaps this is what he searches for; gas to fill his tank; what a feeling, humbling, to be needed as much as you thrive to be used. He longs for a purpose past his own imagination, though fears his committal issues might stand in his way of real success. He could very well be useful, but the drive to make him continue being of service is what could be detrimental to his determination. There is so much land to cover, so much more beyond a kingdom border that he not only fears never having a purpose, but also to never be able to fulfill this purpose.
He came here in the understanding that it was a land he could wander till death did he part. His mother had been recently deceased and his younger self had no idea what would come of him. This land had brought forth the feeling of everlasting room to roam in safety—or, at least more so than where he had come from. And so here he had stayed in sickness and in health; forgiving his past and letting his future take first step.
Unfortunately his first step had never taken him beyond the blackness.
So here he is, lingering with hesitation on the border of the Threshold, wondering what it might be like to find a real purpose; struggling to take the step into sight and expose his real self—his grown self. A man, tall and broad with a tainted face and rusty tone, you could not blame him for being hesitant. What will they want from me? Why will they need me?
“Mother, this is only for you,” he mutters underneath his breath, dreading not only the awkwardness of socializing but also the sun that will attack his darker tone. He will do this for mother, be adventurous on her behalf and live a life only she could be proud of—he would be of use, and he would serve a purpose, and by the end of his life, there would be a title beside his name; and with that thought—that forceful drive of motivation and hope—our soldier steps onto the well worn playing field of the Threshold.
Like two ships passing in the night, Ophelia had been through the Foothills moments before and moments after Boltar. Now, years had passed. The land had changed. The Foothills and crumbled into the Falls. Ophelia's alabaster form danced through the darkness of the forest, the star hanging from her brow illuminating her path. Somehow through the course of her life, stars and suns had blessed her with sparkling shards in her mane and tail and the little light around her horn. Though she preferred the cover of darkness, she was now a rather obvious pale spot in the shadowy landscape.
The Threshold welcomed many a weary traveler through the trees, and she was now in a position again to ferry them to their destination and impart knowledge about this troubled, divided land. Ophelia knew that her position now was one of power, one that needed to serve and protect those she held dear. In a way, she was also required to ensure that her home was a viable option for these strangers, a safe haven for the refugees the world sent their way.
Tinek bounded across the trees, his excited voice yelling in her head about a newcomer. Ophelia picked up a light jog, cloven hooves falling quietly on the soft forest floor. When she arrived before the stranger, her strange, dual colored gaze swept over his masculine form, appraising the silver sheen of his coat and the luminous blue of his depthy gaze. The pale princess bowed, a gesture she had learned from her father without knowing, and smiled warmly. "Welcome to Helovia," she said to the stranger, unaware of his history. "My name is Ohpelia, and I am the Lady of the Aurora Basin." She could not get a read on his sphyx-like expression. "Was your journey long?"
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.
Deception and perfection are wonderful traits One will breed love, the other hate
I have to admit that with each passing day he learnt quite fast, the wolf of mine, as troublesome as he was. Although some days were slower than others as the youth of his mind was easily distracted. There were glimpses, however, of the wolf he may become, even if I did have to use my magic to trap his dinner now and then. Even so, he followed me wherever I went and long ago had I given up on the thought that maybe he one day might leave me in peace. Reluctantly I had relented; my mind was no longer my own.
Again, my travels bring me not far from home to the forestland that harboured the weary and lost. Their travel stained faces a welcome sight for the native residents who lingered around them, like a lion to a zebra, in hopes of luring them away with talk of fodder and family. It was a strange dance of words, something my own tongue was not brilliantly deft in, but I had claimed a few souls to my name. Even if I do wonder how and why, Ink was the first to mind. Still, I suppose I must try. I may even find a gem in this woodland that would much benefit my land. So I continue to stalk along the darkest paths with a fluff ball in tow, enjoying the sweet moments being alone brought until finally my path crossed with two others, a dappled stranger and Ophelia.
I enter the situation carefully, my eyes flicking from one to the other. The equine being the target and the unicorn being a ruler of a land I was uncertain of; I knew very little of Lady Ophelia though our brief meetings had always been cordial. I offer her a slight dip of the head as Fantôme peers around my front leg like a child where he shouldn’t be. "Hello Ophelia" I offer along with the nod, my simplistic greeting carried no great emotion and brought a sense of neutrality before I turn to the focus of attention.
"You’re a handsome one aren't you" I complimented the stallion with an appreciative smile. "I’m Ghost of the Hidden Falls".
He emerges like a baby chic—though less messy and thrilling—from the forest shade and instantly his skin burns in irritation from the sun. Being lonely wasn’t a good way to die, but then again neither is catching fire.
It is there he hears the whooshing sound of wings that causes him to pin his ears instantaneously. In an second movement comes from high above his reach, and below to his ground level. A mare (not too shabby on the physical representation but he doesn’t let it affect his judgment) arrives with elegance and formality. His blue eyes settle on her, watching her respectful bow of head; his ears shifting at the soft tone of her voice. He is skeptical of what she can provide him as traditional beliefs had forced him to believe he should be the provider.
Was his journey long?
His life journey or his minor adventure around the forest line of the Threshold? He would like to think his life journey had been long, horribly long, and that maybe the series of unfortunate events could just be held at a pause while he stayed within the border of Helovia. He is too young to feel so old—so worn—and to settle here would be nice; not that he had any high expectations of what Helovia could provide.
“Long enough,” is what he manages to say being the awkward anti-social stud he had turned to be. Part of him is learning the ropes once more, after all he is merely rusty. Adjusting his stance he attempts to make some sort of an effort, “I have lingered here for awhile.”
It turns out he has attracted quite the crowd—how lucky for Boltar—and a second mare arrives to his introduction. She is the opposite of Ophelia, her presence being overwhelming and eccentric. She has a sense of calmness though the energy about her flows with ambition and goals. His similarity to her own goal driven attitude instantly triggers a likeness in her appearance. Two fish from the same pond, so it would seem.
If only she hadn’t opened her mouth, and brought the company of a canine.
“I don’t do good with flattery” his response is dry, perhaps sarcastic but he doesn’t intend to be rude. He, a gentleman somewhere buried beneath his hard candy coated shell of bluntness and crotchety—attempts to focus himself on both women in general, "Boltar, of nothing if it wasn't obvious before."
Ophelia stood calmly, an unwavering storm of marble in the hot summer's air. The silver armor gracing her angular form shimmered in the moonlight, and the small orb dangling from her horn pulsed softly, comforted by the gentle introductions to this strange, dark stallion with his ethereal gaze. Another approached, one whom she recognized from the shadows, but instead of a frown, the princess smiled as if she was meeting a dear friend. If only that emotion reached the strange, dual colored tints of her luminous eyes. Ghost.
The Valkyrie watched her exchange, raising a thin, curious brow at Ghost's forward introduction but not taking any pleasure in the fact that Boltar did not seem interested at all. She was not about to make any assumptions regarding the clever stranger - not when she knew how easily minds could be swayed and altered. Instead, she used magic, reaching out to the mind of Ghost and speaking in her own head, lips completely still. "You are a talented recluse. You should come visit sometime..."
A hard smile crossed her lips, one rather admiring of this stranger, and she ignored the rest of the conversation, watching the silver scales of her dragon scurry overhead. Swinging by his tail, the playful creature swung upside like a bat, using one of his taloned paws to squeeze out a goofy greeting. Ophelia chuckled. "This is Tinek," she explained. "Everyone comes from nothing, and everyone goes back," she said simply, the words deep.
"If you want to be more, I can offer you a home and studies within the mountains of the Aurora Basin." Her invitation was prompt and clearly spoken, not taking any shortcuts of flattery or deceit. Though she was fully capable of the latter, the thief would not be any good at flattering or flirting. Ophelia was proud and strong, but her personal relationships were fraught with awkwardness and confusion.
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.
Deception and perfection are wonderful traits One will breed love, the other hate
It seems my simple compliment didn’t quite work the way I thought it would. It draws a frown upon my features as I contemplate him with annoyance. Perhaps I am wrong in my limited social experience and flattery doesn’t buy the easy conversation ticket. Still, he’d have been better keeping his mouth shut. Instead I snort and let him stew, I had no reply that wouldn’t be sweet sarcasm laced in vafrous venom. Ah, but that would not be the wisest choice of words given the situation, though one more rude remark and I will struggle to let it slide. Instead, I listened to what else he had to say about his journey… Of nothing. The last stallion I had recruited had also said “of nowhere”, was there some sort of magical abyss they all stepped out of? Confused and dazed as they finally begin to exist. My ever-inquisitive mind was never satisfied by this answer and I battled with my ruffled thoughts.
It was then that something strange happened. Ophelia spoke and yet she didn’t, the words clear in my head but there was no movement from her lips. Telepathy? My body had grown tense at the intrusion. Could she see my thoughts too? My memories? I grew very still, concentrating on the ground with my eyes lost elsewhere as I honed in the words she had spoke instead. Talented… Recluse? I wasn’t sure whether she was complimenting me or not. And what would you want with a recluse like me? It felt odd answering in my head and even more odd that there was a possibility she could hear it.
The conversation rolled on out loud this time and my well-disciplined mind kept the lid on my current shock. I look to the silver dragon, Tinek, I’d seen him before though I couldn’t help but think of that bronze who had burnt my back. I didn’t like or dislike the creatures, they were well capable of harm and yet I can see my advantages to them. Handy flying reptiles they were when one wasn’t facing them in battle. Alas I am bird and horn; there is not blood in my body that allows me to bond to such creatures. I glance downwards with a forlorn look to the pup that rolls around at my side and wonder when the day will come when he looks more like a beast than a cute puppy.
Ophelia seemed more in tune to this nothing that everyone came from, perhaps I was missing the deeper meaning of her words, but I wonder what her mother would think of such words. "How depressing" I commented briefly, not really knowing what else to say.
The invites began and I looked at the Lady of the Basin curiously. I had always been under the impression only the horned went north, however, that knowledge was born of an era when I was only small and I had been outcast from the Frostheart’s herd. Perhaps they had changed, it had been nearly three years since mother had told me such things and time changed all things in the end. I found myself wanting to take that telepathic offer to visit even more if just to see what the remnants of that old herd looked like now, anew and hidden in the mountain. "Like wise, my land is not far from here, known for its greenery and waterfalls, as well as our talented family that watch over it. We have many roles you may chose to take" I offer as well, keeping my tones neutral and informative. Not really knowing which side of this stallion I was on, good or bad.
They were each different in obvious ways. Ophelia, rather skilled in the art of recruiting and having mastered warmth and formality to a T was clearly a shoe in for finding kingdom members. Ghost, though upfront and blunt had her own unique ability to spark interest in strangers and appear both friendly and inviting. She was a bright pop of orange in a faint shade of pink and grey; Ophelia being the warm baby pink tone that provided security and comfort while he, Boltar, a cold shade of winter. His own unique ability to appear distant and short was both blessing and a curse; he had the ability to shun out worthless conversations but struggled to let the real socializing start. He was an awkward baby deer hardly able to find a voice, let alone an outgoing persona. His practice of solitude and his experience being the lone wolf had in some ways made him stronger, but in situations like this tampered his ability to ever find long lasting relationships. Ophelia must have many wise friends, Ghost a line up of adequate males and aspiring females, and Boltar—a lone soldier with a very difficult decision to make.
A branch rustled and Boltar raised his blue eyes up expecting to see a noisy bird or territorial squirrel. On the branch swung a silver scaled reptile with the most oddest expression on his face; Boltar had yet to learn what goofiness and charm was. He cocked his head inquisitively, though not appearing thrilled at all by the sudden show. It has a name, but Boltar doesn’t have the courage (or interest) to respond; he instead nods—such an odd place to think lizards as companions—let alone carnivorous dogs.
Had our anti-social brute known he had offended the charcoal goddess he would have fumbled in embarrassment and apologies. He had lots to learn about the mind of a female, his mother had been the simple homely type and would hardly have considered Boltar’s reaction to light flirting offensive. To a man blind by inexperience, Ghost had appeared intimidating. To a man who might be more capable in the event of flirting, Ghost would have been the ideal candidate. If she had wandered across anyone less socially-inept—friendly—maybe she would have gotten a different reaction. And to think Boltar had triggered such an emotion, well let’s be thankful he isn’t aware.
Sometimes inexperience is a good thing.
Though something does tug at the spiraling mind of our wolf. Why would they pick him of all horses adequate in the threshold? What makes him so special; his vibrant neon blue eyes, his darkened image, or his stronger appearance? Is there something he has yet to learn about himself that they see potential of, or was he just an easy lure into their castes. He flicks his tail at the thought of being just an easy catch, a naïve fish on the hook—he could leave, he wasn’t tied to loyalty by invisible chains quite yet. He doesn’t, though, he still ponders the possibilities. What if being the easy catch was good?
“Well it seems as though my choice, either or, offers the same sort of pleasure; a purpose. And while the Aurora Basin should be my choice, I have always loved the company of a waterfall,” it is like a click of confidence, a masculine smooth tone eases out of his mouth like butter off of a knife. What he says seems so unlikely pleasant he himself can hardly believe he spoke it; but it felt right to say it. To finally declare something he could to choose; it was enlightening. And though he struggled to glance either mare in the eye, feeling slightly guilty that he couldn't have picked both (the softy of our boy truly shining at this time), he embraces this new emotion of doing something for himself. Today, life hadn't picked what would happen, he got to pick. "I will follow you," he mutters with a heavy rasp of rustiness through his tone and watches for Ghost to lead the way.
If Ophelia were looking at his thoughts, she would have struggled to contain an outward laugh. She was many things, but rarely had she ever been referred to as soft, warm and in the company of wise friends. Her mind flitted to general who consumed her thoughts as of late and his brooding, violent nature. Then, there was his relative – a wild, dirty beast of cunning intellect and fearsome size. Deimos, her equal, was known as “the Reaper” for a reason, and though he was wise, she would hardly venture so far as to call him a friend. She also kept the company of gods who more than once waged violence on the mortals, and one of whom cast her away for years. In fact, what he saw a was a well-constructed mask, a façade to hide the solitary, violence and unconfident woman inside, but she would have been flattered to know that her persona’s walls were so very well constructed.
Though not actively peering into Ghost’s memories, she was able to hear a single, spoke thought seconds after those words were already etched into her mind. The pale princess’ eyes never once wavered from their male guest, though her keen, mental faculties muttered in her mind once more. “To chat,” was her simple, unspoken reply. “Perhaps about why you and your kin so heavily sought ours not too long ago – making plans? Regardless, I am curious as to what Midas told you regarding our herds’ relations. I will pay you a visit soon.” The accusation lingered politely at the end of her question, but she moved on from there, fully removing herself from Ghost’s mind and allowing her to privacy of her out thoughts.
Not the least bit offended by Ghost’s personal comment, Ophelia smiled, shaking her head. “On the contrary, the ability to rise from nothing – to make yourself known when your existence was previously unmarked – is rather beautiful. I see it as a blooming flower. The plant was always there, but when Birdsong arrives and the bloom is ready, it becomes something more.” The pale princess shrugged awkwardly with a subtle roll of her shoulders beneath glistening, silver armor and avoided eye contact – only one of the mortal habits she could not fully cover with this friendly game. Tinek was glanced at and summarily ignored which offended the scaled beast, and he huffed, white frost puffing from his lips as he pulled himself up onto the branch, grumbling. Ophelia shook her head in amusement.
Oh the amusement continued! Would Ghost be as tickled as she was? The Aurora Basin was absolutely not the ‘correct’ choice given its inhabitants rumored hatred for the species lacking horns. Her eyes sparkled with delight, and she smiled anyway, the stallion’s choice not shaking her calm. “A pleasure to meet you, Boltar,” she said quietly. “Should you want to talk or wander, look north to mountains.” Ophelia took a last look at Ghost, nodding in respect. They would speak later, of course - there was no need now.
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.
Deception and perfection are wonderful traits One will breed love, the other hate
She was an intriguing mare this Forsaken hybrid. I wonder briefly what had happened in her life that she had been rewarded with such a title. Maybe she just had a run of bad luck and the name stuck. Who knew, I am more interested in the mental reply she gives me and an amused smile weaves onto my lips. Ah that little spying spree, the one that hadn’t entirely worked, I was surprised to hear her mention it. Given it was the cold north who started it. Did she expect us to do nothing whilst they ran rampant unchallenged? How arrogant. In the end, Midas has told me nothing of the relations between Falls and Basin, I only know what the latter shows me and that is underhanded foul play. Shouldn’t the monarchs come see the newly appointed Czarina instead of taking from her lands, or is it my duty to present myself before them. Seems all rather backwards. Perhaps I am being punished for the previous rulers inadequacy, still, I find the Lady’s accusation unfounded but curious.
She even describes the notion of nothing and compares it to a blooming flower. I think of my own life and wonder where my beautiful moment went. "Spoken like a veteran, my Lady" I lavished her in compliment, not having quite the same flowery tongue to produce such an articulate response in return. I wonder where they learn to speak such things.
I turn to level my gaze on the stallion who seemed to be contemplating his options and I began to wonder what was going through his mind. Ah, if only I could steal magic from others, that telepathic ability would be quite handy right now. In the end his direction swings towards me and I feel a moment of surprise run through my body. It seems the idea of a waterfall was quite an appealing one and fast becoming the one factor that mattered when I entered the threshold these days. Amazing what falling water could do for you. I dip my head in agreement and watch as Ophelia gives me a last look. I wonder what words she will bring when she comes to visit and what doors will open before me because of it.
I shuffle my wings and motion to the dappled male to follow "come then, Boltar. I will show you the waterfalls."
(@[Boltar] you can request a rank change to HF ^^ Please pick a tier IV role from this list here when you do :D)
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