"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.
03-09-2015, 10:42 PM (This post was last modified: 03-09-2015, 10:43 PM by Zèklè.)
It was the furthest from home he had ever been all by himself in ever, and BOY was he tired.
He was pretty sure that this must be the end of the world. He'd gone through desert, and fields, and forests, and past a river and over some hills and under some more trees and finally he'd wound up here, right in front of a set of rocks so enormous he couldn't even imagine trying to climb them. After all, what was he, a goat? No! His hooves weren't meant for walking on stone, he had already learned that, and even though it looked like maybe there were pathways and maybe he could make it up a little bit further and maybe there was definitely something probably amazing up there-
But he was tired, and it was almost sunset, and after all, hadn't he already explored enough?
Can you ever explore enough, little lightning?
Well, no, but it's not like he could fly.
Even if you flew around the entire world, you would not be able to see it all.
That was his Ma's voice, of course, because even if she had never said those words exactly he still knew they would be her response. His single wing unfurled impatiently, stretching out to full length before flopping dramatically (almost to the ground, now!). But what if I'm tired? he silently whined, frowning, lower lip jutting out into the evening air. And hot? The mental argument was growing intense. Flies buzzed around Zèklè's legs, biting greedily at the succulent thighs, laughing because his stubby tail was still utterly useless against their onslaught.
In his mind, Ampere scowled. His Ma was unimpressed. If I let exhaustion and heat defeat me, there would be no Throat today!
Zèklè glared at the ground, obstinate, his sunbeam eyes unsure.
And you'll have a story to tell at the end,Ma adds. Damn, but she knows just how to get him!
He shuffled his feet excitedly, peering back up at the mountain paths with renewed determination, tail feathers wiggling with reinforced anticipation. The sun was hanging low in the sky by then- not low enough to be getting dark, but low enough that it was finally cool(-ish), and a stiff breeze had begun to ruffle his scruffy mane and feathers. He inhaled, slim lungs filling with stagnant air and vigorous purpose, entire body lighting up with a sudden burst of energy, enthusiasm. HELL YEAH, he could do this, and come home with an awesome story to tell Ma! They didn't call him Zèklè the Amazing for nuthin'!
(Truth be told, they didn't call him that at all, but he figured he'd better start working on his inevitable Legend Title. He'd get one sooner or later, with a Ma like his.)
OOC;; open! He's standing at the bottom of the path. TAG;; [Adelric]
03-11-2015, 07:38 PM (This post was last modified: 03-11-2015, 07:40 PM by Själ.)
Själ
The sun was high in the sky when the filly came upon the sea.
She had stormed away from the mare she was meant to call sister so fast that she had hardly given a thought to where she was going. By the time she had thought to check, she had traveled so far north that she thought she may as well just keep going, and so on the went. Finally, though, the land ran out and she stood looking out over the waves, which had somehow ended up somewhere far below her hooves, crashing against the rocks. She paused for a moment, gazing into the deep blue that suddenly mirrored the angry tears pooling in her eyes. It had been hours, and on she fumed, furious an humiliated at the way her entrance into her mother's empire had gone.
With a shaky breath, she shook her head, trying to clear her mind of the errant thoughts of varnished roans and icy eyes, and turned west. She was determined to press on, to see where her new journey would take her; and so she traipsed along the cliffs, wandering through the wilderness until she came upon and even higher plateau. She first noticed it by its shadow, which began to envelope her as the sun began to sink, and when she looked up, she was startled by its height somewhere among the clouds. The princess continued along its base, following the line of rocks to her right until she came upon a path - and in the way of the path, a young, winged colt.
She halted immediately, head tilted to one side in comic confusion, surveying him with a mixture of curiosity and disdain in her amber gaze. For one, she had never seen another creature her own age before; and for another, she had never seen anything her own size with wings. He didn't even have a horn. And his markings! How strange he looked, a little, winged, hornless colt, brown overlaid with a brilliant blue! She supposed, as far as colors went, his sapphire hues were quite lovely; but even so, he was, perhaps, the oddest creature she had ever seen.
So with all the tact of a filly sheltered by a psychotic, lonely mother, she spoke.
"What are you?"
Talk.
@[Zèklè]
Pixel by Reli <3
Please tag Själ in all replies.
Use of force and/or magic (with the exception of death) is allowed at all times.
The half-child, feeling somewhat reminiscent, aims himself towards the Heavenly Fields as he walks Helovia. It is atop that mountain that he first met his best, and perhaps only, friend in the whole world- Erebos. There, where they met and frolicked and played a game, the half-child forged a relationship that has been driving him and his life ever since. Where would he be without Erebos there to guide him? He’s not sure… Perhaps still in the Hidden Falls with his mother, instead of in the Basin with his sister. He would surely know less, and be less brave, and have… well… no friends. He just hasn’t met anyone he has considered worthy, except for Tobias, but Tobias is so much more than a friend to him.
Smiling to the cervid, the other half of his soul, the half-child moves forward, enjoying the way his long legs cover more ground than they used to. He is growing bigger and stronger every day, closer to a stallion than a newborn, but he is not afraid of what new adventures will come. There can only be more knowledge in adulthood, and knowledge is all he has ever wanted, so he looks forward to that new chapter of his life. It cannot come soon enough.
Today, though, he aims to re-read his past by climbing to the plateau once again, except… When the surgeon arrives at the base of the path that will carry him skyward, he is unpleasantly disappointed to find his way blocked by two children. Frowning and sighing, he considered remaining hidden in the shadows until the two left, leaving the way free for him to go up on his own, except… The small child says something so ridiculous that he can’t help but scoff aloud. Sure that the noise had thus revealed his position, the half-child stepped forth from the shadows he had been hiding in.
“He’s a pegasus,” he says blandly, as though she ought to have known. Twisting his mouth to the side, the half-child considers that Zekle’s single wing might have confused the young unicorn, but comes to the conclusion that she should have known anyways. His thought process is interrupted, however, by a single word from Tobias. Metal. Furrowing his brow, the surgeon turns his attention to the titanium that is growing from the area where Zekle’s other wing should have been and he murmurs softly, involuntarily even, “Curious.” Stepping forward one more step, hopefully to get a better look, he tries to consider the implications of metal on one’s body. It is a strange, strange thing indeed. “Did the metal destroy your wing?” The first question on a long list that has already formed in his brain. Already, he is ignoring the young Sjal, for she holds no interest to him. Manners were hardly high on his list of things to remember.
To tell the truth, it was almost a relief when the unicorn girl showed up, because it meant he could put off climbing the mountain for at least a little bit longer.
They boy spun on an iron heel, vibrant eyes wide as he searched for the source of creaking branches and breaking twigs- a girl, a unicorn with two long white horns, no older than he though marginally taller. Her question was certainly a curious one, one he had not been asked before (who, not what, being general fare), but Zèklè met it head-on with a ferocious grin. What was he? A pegasus, sure, but that was boring. A boy, he guessed, but also a warrior, and an awesomely awesome person, and an adventurer, and, and, and...
"I'm a badass!" the boy declared, flaring his one wing and nearly leaping in his excitement, his pride. The word was something he'd heard Ma and the warriors use, but never to describe a kid- and he wore it like an ovesized tie, a child trying to appear an adult. "What're you?"
Alas, the entire effect of his enthusiastic response was partially buried beneath a far more boring answer. Zèklè turned to the face the other unicorn (another unicorn! At least nobody with two wings who'd rub it in he face, he guessed), eyes narrowing slightly and heart beating fast. So many new friends, new faces, though this one was older, with a companion, and clearly unimpressed by the children who frolicked, foolish, at the base of the hill.
Maybe, the boy thought hopefully, it would be like having a cool older brother.
He doubted it, somehow.
Sunbeam eyes turned back to the filly, an uncertain smile still plastered on his face. They were comrades now, united against the threat of the older, boring boy; did she realize that as Zèklè did, or would he side with the spotted colt, treat Zèklè's infectious enthusiasm as ridiculously young? Caught between two unknowns the boy spun back to his left, peering unabashed at the other colt- until those strange, two-colored eyes lingered a little too long on the empty patch of his shoulder, and he suddenly felt ashamed.
Zèklè squirmed beneath the barbed wire boy's intent stare, shifting involuntarily to better hide his barren side. Usually he would respond to curiosity about his wing with laughter, even pride, because nobody else could say that their wing came in late- he was special, Ma had always said. But there was something about the boy's cold eyes, his bland voice, which made the child suddenly, painfully, vulnerably, insecure.
"No," he snapped, petulant anger creeping into his voice. "It's not d'stroyed, it's jus' late." Hind legs shifted, turning his body perpendicular to the pair, trying to hide the blemish of metal (metal! He didn't like to think about it; why did this stranger have to bring it up?) upon his side. Unbidden, tears sprung into his eyes- he wished he had never gone on this adventure. He wished Ma was there. He wished he was normal, and everyone wouldn't stare right when they saw him, and that he could fly and then show them all that he was just as good as any other pegasus, and maybe even better.
He sniffed, but his young face remained defiant, hard. Let 'em insult him! He was Zèklè the Brave, and one day his wing would grow, and he'd be better than all of them! He looked to the filly, to see if she would join in the mockery. He wished, again, that his Ma was there.
While it wasn't the answer she was looking for, it was an answer, and delivered in such a way that the girl couldn't help but smile, one brow arching with amusement. "I thought that was a title you had to earn?" she protested half-heartedly, almost teasingly. His grin was wide and unabashed, and his excitement was infectious. She took a moment to look him over more closely, her gaze skimming along the one flared wing, lingering on the metal that took the place of the other. She had never seen anyone with either wings or mineral deposits on their body, and she could not quite choose between the more intriguing question.
She decided to ignore it for now. Who cared what he was or what he was made of if he could give her the answers she desired? And so she answered his query: "I'm a princess." Her head raised, her dual horns pointing to the sky like a crown, her voice taking on a lofty air. She wasn't trying to be conceited or vain, but she was quite proud despite having no proof to back up her statement; her narcissism was offset by the small smile that had taken over her features, feeding off of his glee. Was that what it was to be happy? To have fun? Having spent her first months alone with her mother, she was unsure of any emotion that wasn't one that Psyche had taught her. And from the Empress, Själ had learned neither happiness or enjoyment.
Nor had she learned love.
But despite her lack of experience, she found herself wanting the interaction with the boy to continue (was that what it meant to like someone?). He looked as though he were truly pleased with the world and with himself - two concepts that the princess struggled deeply with, having never had any answers. She wondered vaguely where he came from, who his parents were - was his mother aloof and cryptic, shoving her own regal ideals into his young mind? Was his father absent, or was he an influence that the colt had to mimic? Was that where he got the fun that bubbled up from within?
Before she could question the one-winged boy further, however, a cold voice broke through the electricity surrounding the pair. In response, the filly's face immediately fell into the passive, chilly mask that she had learned at her mother's knee. If Psyche had taught her anything, it was that such a subtle boredom in a voice meant trouble.
"He's a pegasus," the older colt informed her, and she bristled at the implication that she should have known the answer. There had been no pegasi where she came from - no one except her and Mother. Either way, a proper name for the one-winged boy was not, at the moment, her priority. "Did the metal destoy your wing?" Oh. So he was supposed to have two? She supposed that made a great deal more sense. But the boy didn't take kindly to the query, and she saw the creeping anger, the growing shame, the shadow of defiance.
It was not fun to watch someone make her new friend feel the way Mother had made her feel.
"He's right," she added suddenly, stepping lightly to the side towards the boy, as though to offer her assistance and show who's side she was on. "It wasn't destroyed. You're just jealous because there's absolutely nothing interesting about you," she added with a sneer, looking him up and down with as much distaste as her youth would permit. She had, after all, learned from the best.
Talk.
@[Zèklè]
Pixel by Reli <3
Please tag Själ in all replies.
Use of force and/or magic (with the exception of death) is allowed at all times.
04-21-2015, 10:02 PM (This post was last modified: 04-21-2015, 10:02 PM by Adelric.)
Vaguely, the surgeon hears Sjal call herself a princess and categorizes it away in his list of facts. It is not interesting to him, but it might be useful at some point. At the very least, Erebos might like to know that there are others walking around calling themselves princes and princesses. In the surgeon’s mind, of course, Erebos is the one true prince. Unfortunately, his true prince is not here now and he has to sort through the social awkwardness that he has created for himself.
No, the other boy snaps at him, and the half-child lays his ears back for a moment, confusion clouding his normally passive face. The emotion fades in a moment, all features returned to their rightful place, only to be replaced again a second later when the boy claims his wing is late. Adelric has studied life. There is no… late. Well, not exactly… Turning to Tobias, the surgeon’s eyes fall to the cervid’s antlers. Much like his horn, they had been small when the cerndyr was born, but they are large now. But wings… He turns back to the bay boy… wings are not like antlers. They are not firm and rigid like sticks or bones. They are made of flesh and blood, sinew and life, and things that the half-child has not known to come late. Is the boy a statistical anomaly?
The scientist’s musings are interrupted by the voice of the girl. Frowning his displeasure (ever glad that Ophelia taught him he does not have make everyone like him), the half-child turns to face her for a moment, considering her words. He should be upset by her statement, feelings hurt, heart pounding, eyes watering, or having some other emotional response to her insult. Strangely, he feels nothing. The statement is true. Who is he, mere mortal that he is, to feel bad about knowing the truth? Indeed, he surely feels worse about the intimidating sneer that she wears for him.
Casting his eyes downward, away from the small girl with a gaze larger than his own, he bobs his head slowly in agreement. “I am uninteresting,” he agrees. A moment later, his eyes begin to wander upward again. “You, however…” he murmurs to the boy, taking another step towards the missing wing that the colt has tried to hide. “Can I touch it?” he asks boldly, science motivating his actions more than intelligence. This was not the time or place for such a query, but then… was there ever a bad time for science?
For a minute he was afraid that the girl wouldn't play along, and her dismissal of his self-appointed title would have stung were it not for the smile, the teasing tone which accompanied the words. Self-satisfied the boy merely shrugged, rolling his shoulders and grinning at her, and his grin only widened as his new friend declared herself a princess. "Cool!" he replied, approval making his voice bright. To be sure, he wasn't sure what a princess was supposed to do, or what it meant for the girl- but he, in a way, was a prince, so she couldn't be too different from him. What was she a princess of? Where? He found himself imagining a kingdom of night stars and spires of stone, purple flowers and flowing streams- her, in short, were she a land. Somewhere warm and open. Maybe by the ocean. Maybe there were whales!
But where the Princess was starlight to him now, the colt was mud, a murky mire at the bottom of a pond which threatened to swallow his favorite toy. Zèklè watched through hostile eyes as the appaloosa's face contorted into a frown, mildly, horribly satisfied - he deserves it! - by the older child's clear confusion. (Let him be confused, let him know how wrong he is!) Zèklè blinked, letting defiance take the place of tears within his eyes, inky lips curling back into the shadow of a smile.
And for a minute he nearly grinned again, nearly let himself explode with the warm and fuzzy and grateful and only slightly afraid (he made a mental note not to anger the princess, and that maybe her kingdom was a little cold) feelings that filled his chest when his princess spoke up, her voice a sudden declaration of camaraderie, her body a soldier, her words a shield... and for a minute he felt as though he might burst and laugh, and he loved the girl and hated the boy, and everything was so simple, because he - they - had won.
But the other colt looked so sad.
He moved, relaxing slightly but not very much, letting himself shift slightly closer to his new friend, while still keeping his winged side toward the stranger, the foe. Slowly his ears left the safety of his neck, rising to reach the other's words. The filly had been mean, almost, something Zèklè could never remember being, or even being around, in the past. It had given him a feeling of strength, made his blood burn with righteous fury. Yeah! The other kid was butt- what did he even know? Nothing, obviously! He'd nodded with the girl's words, short mane bouncing with the vigor of his agreement.
But he also felt a little bit bad.
And then he felt alarm, because nobody, nobody, had ever asked to touch his metal side. He wanted to continue hiding behind the icy princess, but what kind of badass would he be then? Zèklè thought about how to response, his young mind weighing options quickly and carelessly. On the one hand he could agree with the boy (Yeah you are), but somewhere in the back of his mind was Ampere's face, frowning disapproval of that course. Treat others how you want to be treated... be brave, even in the face of fear. What was the brave choice, the one that scared him most?
Being mean felt easy.
The lightning boy inhaled, casting a careful smile toward the girl before stepping bravely forward, his head high as he could get it. With much more bravado than he actually felt, Zèklè turned slightly, offering his barren side to the inquisitive colt. "I guess I'll letcha," he declared through the lump in his throat- this was an honor, a gift he was giving his tentative foe. The barbed-wire colt would be able to see, now, that not only was Zèklè awesome, but there was very clearly muscle beneath his metal, something which someday would fulfill a promise of something more. "But be careful." Careful of what? Mostly wounding Zèklè's pride.
OOC;; sorry it took so long and sucks so much ;____; TAG;; @[Själ]
06-09-2015, 07:27 PM (This post was last modified: 06-27-2015, 04:36 PM by Själ.)
Själ
Protection - it was a concept that her mother had learned far too late for it to be any good, but to the princess it came willingly, a deep instinct that presented itself when a threat was perceived. Her mother had been pompous, arrogant, self-assured: in other words, the DarkEmpress had been emboldened by her own perceived strength. Never had the Queen imagined that she could fall, and the surprise made her demise all the harder. The Princess, however, had been cradled in a bed of suspicion, swathed in a blanket of misgiving, had faced the harsh reality of her mother's failures (though she never really knew how the dark mare had failed, only that she had lost much as a result). If Mother could be hurt, so could she - and so, too, could any friends she made along the way.
The lightning boy - the self-proclaimed badass - was easy to like with his upbeat demeanor and outgoing ways. Never had she seen a soul that so easily accepted, without question, a new thing, be it a person or a place or an idea. It was easy, too, for her to return the favor, and she wondered again if this was what friendship felt like. Either way, the older colt had made an unwelcome, tactless advance on her friend, and though the girl knew little of diplomacy and less of kindness, she responded the only way she knew.
If it was mean, what she said, she was unaware of it, blinded by her desire to offer some strength, some consolation, some defense for her friend. Her youth and naivete did not offer a vision of a future in which she would not offer aid to the lightning boy, did not warn her that not all friendships lasted, and she clung only to the knowledge that he was the first and only being to ever offer her unconditional kindness. A lump rose in her throat at the realization that even a stranger was kinder than her own family had ever offered to be. For the first time, she wondered if following in her mother's footsteps would be a bad idea.
For the first time, she wondered who she was, not who she had been raised to be.
But the older boy was nonplussed, and the girl began to fume. Her ears flattened against her skull and she glanced to Zèklè. She did not like the older child, but she would not attack without reason - another trait that set her apart from her icy mother. She lowered her gaze, seething, momentarily defeated as her friend stepped forward (betraying, in a way, their easy alliance). But she liked him, and she liked the feeling of camaraderie they had shared, if but for a moment, so she raised her eyes again and watched suspiciously as he offered the metal to the inquisitive boy. You don't have to, she wanted to say. He can't make you. But she held her tongue. Instead, she pressed her nose gently to the lightning child's flank, offering silent support.
Talk.
@[Zèklè], @Adelric - I'm so sorry for the wait. Life ate me and I've had a really hard time getting things in order and actually having time or energy to sit down and focus!
Pixel by Reli <3
Please tag Själ in all replies.
Use of force and/or magic (with the exception of death) is allowed at all times.
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